#race either i can count on my hand how many actually black characters there are in them dating sim type games

[ackee]

the most popular indie games really be like "were not like those japanese video games we have DIVERSITY" then the diversity is all skinny 20 somethings with one whos ambiguously brown and maybe someone else whos nonbinary

[gaysimpsstuff]

Accidental Turn-Ons; Hawks x Dom! Reader

Genre: angst to fluff to smut

Type: Oneshot

Summary: Hawks returns home from a mission, clearly exhausted, and you take the time to give him a little massage! However, it doesn’t quite have the effects you expected.

Word Count: 3.5K

Warnings: minor dub-con (Y/n doesn't know that what they're doing is sexual for Hawks), stress, minor injuries, Keigo's adorable bird tendencies, sexual innuendo, dom y/n, wing play, feather play, nicknames, edging, dacryphilia, handjobs, aftercare

Other: Yo this might actually be my best smut yet

Inspiration: This was actually inspired by my own piece of work, MHA Characters + Their Biggest Kinks where I spoke about Hawks’ wing and back kink and how it relates to his avian traits.

Taglist: @smolchildfangirl @mandalorian-baby-bird @waffleareniceandfluffy @catcherisvibin @thesubtlewhore @popcatx0

You paced the living room, glancing between the TV and the door. The news station had cut away from the fight five minutes ago, which meant your boyfriend was either in the hospital getting treated for any injuries he might have sustained, dealing with fans, dealing with paperwork, or on his way home.

Your phone buzzed and you raced to grab it off the couch, fearing an incoming call from the hospital, or a news alert about the well-being of the man you loved.

You bit the inside of your cheek as you realized it was just an email from work, not even marked important. You tossed your phone back onto the couch with a groan.

Wasted build-up. Your mind grumbled

Your eyes flicked back to the TV, watching as the reporter rambled on about yet another stupid thing America had going on as you waited for something, anything to happen. Right when you were getting ready to pick your phone back up from the couch cushions when you heard a light tap tap tappity tap against the thick glass of the sliding glass door that led to your balcony.

You dashed across the living room, accidentally knocking a chair over as you raced to reach the sliding glass door that led to the balcony. You'd recognize his special knock any day, even if he changed it all the time whenever he forgot it. You always had patience with him, you knew he had too many things on his mind with Hero Work to always remember a random knock.

You grabbed the handle, yanking the door open with a wide grin, finally laying eyes on your bird boy. He had a hand stuffed in his pocket, the other rubbing at the back of his neck.

"Hey, Y/n. So sorry I'm late, been flying all day so naturally I'm a little sore. No excuse for missing movie night but-"

"I'm just so glad you're here!" You exclaimed, taking his cheeks in your hands and rubbing at his cheekbones. "I'm so sorry you're hurting, come inside I'll get a heating pack, or a cooling pack, maybe some lotion and I could give you a massage." You babbled, tugging him inside.

"A massage and some cuddles sound great," he sighed, eyes tired. You never liked the fact that Keigo was a hero. He worked too hard, too much, and for so long. He was still young, he should be appreciating life and spending time on himself and with his lover and not with the commission. "Oh I uh, I found this for you."

He took one of your hands off his face, taking his other hand out of his pocket and pressing something cold and smooth into your palm. You opened your fingers, a soft smile growing on your face at the sight of a smooth pretty white rock with grey and black speckles.

"Oh, Kei, this is beautiful. I love it~" you pressed a kiss to Keigo's cheek, loving the way he trilled. He was always so excited to pick up random items he found pretty or interesting, and he'd always give them right to you. It was truly adorable, you loved his gifts. His wings fluttered in happiness for a moment before he winced slightly in pain, happiness vanished in a reminder of his stress from the day.

"Ouch, okay, sitting down time," he muttered, stumbling past you to flop down on the couch. You grabbed the lotion from the kitchen counter (you kept it there for whenever he came home with sore muscles). You set the stone down on the coffee table, tapping it twice in a small show of affection before sitting next to Keigo.

"Shirt off Birdie," you said, squirting some lotion into your palm before rubbing them together.

"Hey, at least buy me a drink first," he chuckled, tugging his jacket off and peeling off his tight hero shirt. You sighed, deciding not to comment on his tacky flirting, knowing you'd been dating for almost a year now.

He turned his back to you, crossing his legs. He folded his wings, lowering them to give you access to his shoulders and shoulder blades. You pressed your fingers against one of his shoulders, finding a large knot almost immediately. You heard him hiss, and your frown increased.

"I know it hurts but it will hurt a lot less when I'm finished," you told him, pressing a gentle kiss to the nape of his neck. The hair there rose against your skin, a shiver shooting down his spine. You blinked, confused at his reaction. Maybe it was uncomfortable for him. You resolved not to kiss there again.

You continued to rub against his tightened muscles, listening to his soft hisses and groans. You pulled away after about six minutes, picking up the lotion bottle and squirted some more into your palms.

"Hey, when you finish with mm~ when you finish with that shoulder could you do around my wing joints? Down my spine, y'know?"

"Are there muscles there?" you asked, most people didn't have muscles down their spines, usually it was just the ridges of said bones.

"Yeah, I do," he explained quickly. You nodded pressing into his knot, slowly working down when it eased up. You moved your fingers downwards, feeling his shoulder blades and spine before reaching his wings joints. He shuddered, similar to when you kissed his neck, but a little larger. You hummed, pressing your fingers down and finding another knot, right where his skin turned to bright red feathers.

"Oh, yeah, yeah right there that's perfect." You glanced back up at him, confused, he didn't usually speak when you massaged him, he'd also never asked for a massage so close to his wings, he was usually very cautious about having his wings touched. Maybe he'd just gotten tired of dealing with wing pains by himself, it was probably a lot different from other knots.

"I'm so sorry you have to deal with this," you cooed. "You really deserve a break, it's not healthy to work this hard all the time."

"I know, Little Feather, but it's nng- n-not my fault. The citizens need me." he panted. You sighed, moving your other hand to work out both wings' knots at the same time.

Keigo's head flopped forward, and his hand flew up to slap over his mouth, holding back a soft whine. You lifted an eyebrow in suspicion, there were only a few times when you heard him make noises like that.

Slowly, you pressed your fingers down closer to the underside, right over a few of his downy feathers.

"Oh fuck~" he hissed.

"Okay, that's it." you lifted your hands away from them, holding them in the air. "What the hell's going on with you?" His head whipped around so fast you were surprised it was still attached to his neck. His golden eyes widened, pupils blowing out, nearly completely covering the honey iris.

"W-what?" he exclaimed, feathers puffing up.

"I'm sorry if I seem mad, I'm not, I'm just- very confused. You're literally moaning. I am giving you a massage and you're moaning. Explain."

His cheeks dusted over in pink, and his eyes fell down to his lap.

"Okay uh- fuck I- this was not how I planned on telling you, erm- I promise I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable-"

"Keigo, it's alright, I'm not uncomfortable, just confused. Take a breath darling,"

"Okay, okay, okay." he took a deep breath. "My wings and back are... sensitive, like- in a sexual way. It's why I never let you touch them, I didn't want you to get uncomfortable with that."

"Oh Keigo, you should have just told me, it's perfectly alright, you know I love you, and I love your bird traits. I'm not uncomfortable with this." you smiled sweetly, pressing a hand to his cheek.

"You're- you're not?" he glanced back up at you, golden eyes filled with hope.

"Not in the slightest. To be honest, I don't see why anyone would be uncomfortable with it. It's just another erogenous zone, like someone's neck, ears, or nipples would be. And lots of people keep those bits on display."

"Thanks," he murmured, rubbing his nose against yours. "That does make me feel better, but uh- there's something else.." he trailed off, nervous.

"Your obvious boner? I was gonna leave you to take care of that yourself, but I'll gladly do it for you if you'd like."

"Oh uh-" his cheeks brightened as if attempting to match the tone of his wings. "I would very much like that," he admitted, offering you a slightly nervous smile.

"Anytime, Birdie~" you stood up, hands landing on either side of his waist as you pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. "But I would very much like to experiment with those wings of yours, see what we can do with them. Just how far can we go?" You smirked at him, tongue darting out to moisturize your lips. Keigo let out a soft breath, shifting against the couch to make room for the tent in his pants.

"I- I have thought about using them before- my feathers can move fast, so they can act as a vibrator if I focus, but I could never use it on myself. I know I'd get distracted, then the feather would stop moving, then I'd have to start all over again. I'd basically just be edging myself all night. I know I'd just give up and jerk off."

"I can work with that~" you pressed your lips against his, surprising him. He whined into the kiss, hands flying up to fist your shirt.

Unfair. He thought, he already had his shirt off, and he knew he'd be naked in just a few minutes, but you hadn't taken anything off yet. Knowing you, you would stay clothed just to tease him. The most you would do was lift your shirt a little to show him your stomach before quickly covering it again. That was what you usually did when you dommed. At least for the foreplay.

You pressed the tip of your tongue against his lips, pushing past his defensive barrier of shiny white teeth, perfect for the press, and you licked along the top of his mouth. His whole body shuddered against yours, his hips jerking upwards.

You grabbed his thigh with one hand, squeezing. A warning, he knew, against bucking up again, against disobeying. He tasted your saliva, feeling it pool onto his tongue. His eyes finally drooped closed, enjoying the taste of leftover's from last night's dinner on your tongue.

He whined against the back of your mouth, feeling you move your other hand up towards his back. He already knew what you were going to do. Without pulling away from the kiss, you plucked a feather about the size of his hand from his wings, running a finger down the stem, brushing it against the little red bristles. Soft against your finger, yet forcing Keigo's restrained cock to grow even harder than he ever thought possible.

You slowly pulled back from the kiss, taking his lower lip hostage between your teeth, tugging it as far as it could go before finally releasing it. You felt Keigo's hot breaths fanning out across your face, and your grin only grew. You loved breaking him apart, the strong, well-put-together Hawks was an act only for the cameras, only you could ever know the real him, the horny, whiny, needy baby he truly was.

"Look at you, falling apart already? I've barely done shit to you."

"Fuck- that's just 'cause it's you~" he purred

"Flattery won't get you anywhere, doll." Your shit-eating smirk only grew, and Keigo could feel himself melting into the couch cushions. "C'mon, take 'em off, you're a big boy, I'm sure you can do it yourself."

He nodded, hands flying away from your shirt and grappling with his belt buckle faster than you could say 'Hawks.' He tossed his belt behind the couch, not caring if it hit anything, and quickly shimmied out of his pants and underwear, letting them pool around his ankles. His cock slapped against his stomach, six inches and throbbing.

Looks like his prediction was correct. He was naked. You were not. You didn't look like you were planning on undressing anytime soon, which left Keigo feeling slightly disappointed. However, any negative emotions vanished the second you ran his bright red feather down his nose, over his lips, then under his chin. He knew immediately you were trying to lift his face with the feather, despite the single feather not being strong enough by itself, not unless it was under his control. But he was not in control, you were, and fuck it if that wasn't the best part.

"Good boy~" you praised him, sliding a hand up his bare thigh, brushing it carelessly close to his dick. He bit his lip, eyes flicking between your hand and your eyes.

"Please, please touch me," he whispered, slightly embarrassed by the situation. It had been a long while since you'd last had sex, and an even longer while since you had been the dom. He'd all but forgotten how to properly beg. You could tell.

"Come on, doll, I know you can ask me nicely, or at least better than that." He groaned, hands gripping your hips and attempting to tug you into his lap, a plan formulating in his head that ended in an amazing thighjob. But his plans never worked, not at least with you involved. No, you were too stubborn, one of the many things he loved about you. But not really in this precise situation.

"Nah ah ah~ hands off the merchandise." Your hand squeezed his thigh again, twice this time. That was all he needed to let go. He found purchase in a nearby pillow, moving it behind him and tugging on the little dangly bits on the corners. He forgot what they were called but he was ninety-five percent sure it started with a 'D' or something.

"Fuck, please, I need it, you know I need it, I-I've been nothing but good all day, please touch me, please~" He whined, eyebrows furrowing. That plus his reddened cheeks made just the cutest face. You couldn't wait to make his eyes go crooked and for him to drool.

"That's it, good boy~" You ran the tip of the feather up his cock, circling the tip. He shivered in response, biting back a loud moan. "Come on, don't make me mad, vibrate yourself with your feather~" you cooed, teasing tone making his stomach churn in the best way possible.

He bit his lip, looking down at the feather slowly circling the tip of his dick. It had already nudged his foreskin downwards, leaving the red skin fully exposed. He took a deep breath, trying to block out your presence, and how hard he was, just focusing on the single red feather, twirling around in loops.

He felt it twitch against his skin, before finally starting to shake, then at last it was vibrating. He twitched it away from his dick, slightly nervous about how it might feel. You sighed, pressing it directly onto the little hole at the tip.

"Ghhh- oh fuckkkkk~" he moaned, pressing his head against the couch cushions. It felt better than he ever possibly could have imagined. Feeling the feather on his dick, his dick against his feather, it was double the pleasure. He whined loudly when the vibrations suddenly stopped. "Nooooo I want it, bring it back, please," he begged, looking up at you with wide eyes.

"Doll I didn't even do anything. You lost focus. You gotta try a little harder." you said, tapping the feather against him again. Pre-cum stuck to it, making red glisten with a little bit of white. He cursed at the sight (and feeling) of his own pre on his feather.

Soon enough, it started to buzz again. And you put it back on him. This time, you traced it up and down his base, running it over the tip again. One of his hands flew up to his mouth, knuckles pressing against his lips. His hips bucked up against the vibrating feather.

"Ooooohhhhhh fuckfuckfuckfuck so goooood~" he moaned loudly. Again, the buzzing stopped without warning. "Nooo fuck no! I need it please fuck!" He looked like he was on the verge of tears- no way it was really that good. You'd have to ask him to use his feathers on you sometime.

"I know baby, I know," you ran your fingers through his hair, tugging lightly. His breath hitched, golden eyes filling with tears of pleasure. "But you gotta focus to get it done, okay?" he nodded, wiping his tears, but he only managed to spread the warm, salty liquid over his face, making him appear even more debauched.

How cute

You wrapped your hand around his dick when it started to vibrate again, the feather curled up between your palm and his dick. Slowly, you began to jerk him off, feeling the feather vibrate faster than you'd felt any toy vibrate, and his dick throbbing and pulsing against you left you feeling like you just might cum in your pants.

"FUCK!" he shouted, back arching off the couch. One of his legs flew upwards, toes curling around the air. He was shaking at this point, looking like he was just on the verge of cumming. "Oh, Godddd fuckkkmeeeee~" he wailed, tears overflowing and falling down his flushed cheeks.

"No god's gonna fuck you, darling, only I will because you belong to me. Isn't that right?" You pulled on his hair and his moans grew louder, the vibrations intensifying, which you thought was impossible at the rate it had been buzzing against your skin and his.

"Youuuuu fuck- I- I belong to youuuu~" he moaned, hiccuping a little.

"Fuck, you're so fucking cute like this, so adorable when you fall apart beneath me, gonna break soon?" He sniffed loudly, nodding. His moan broke out into a disappointed wail when the vibrations stopped again. He tried to get it to move but it just wasn't going to. You opened your palm, revealing the feather, the stem bent awkwardly. Hawks sighed, sadness filling his eyes.

"I was just 'bout to cum too..." he whimpered.

"Oh, you'll still cum. We don't need anything else between us anymore~" you tossed the feather aside before spitting into your palm, beginning to jerk him off again. It certainly didn't feel nearly as good as it did with the feather, but at this point, he was so close he just couldn't give two fucks about how good it felt, just that it would get him where he needs.

"Oh yes yes yes fuck yes more more- gonna cum gonna cum ooooh fuck baby you're gonna make me cum!" He cried out, bucking up into your hand, sobbing as pre ran down the sides of his dick and onto your fingers.

You pulled him to you by his hair, loving the loud moan he let out from the pain. You pressed your lips right up against his ear.

"Then fucking cum, my baby boy~" you purred seductively. Moments later, his whole body spasmed, legs shaking violently and wings flaring outwards. He wailed, screaming as he finally came into your hand, white ribbons landing on his legs, stomach, and even a little on the couch. Subconsciously, he knew he'd have to clean that up later, but he was not about to worry about that right now.

"Godamn! If that wasn't the hottest thing I've ever seen!" you exclaimed, truly in awe at just how good his orgasm looked. He had gone limp, flopped back against the couch, and panting. You pulled your hand away from his dick, licking away the bits of cum from your skin before sitting down next to him, tugging his body closer to you.

"Unf, that was the best damn orgasm of my life," he murmured, voice a little hoarse.

"Looked like it, you alright darling? Can I get you anything? Water, blankets, bath?" You worried a little, hoping you didn't completely brain-fuck him.

"Jus' some cuddles." his head flopped down on your shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as he yawned.

"Hey birdie, don't fall asleep on me," you chuckled. "We still gotta get you all cleaned up and put in bed."

"Not... a problem..." he whispered, breath tickling your skin as he nodded off.

"Heh, that's a problem," you smiled affectionately. He deserved his rest. You resolved to stay still for a little while, then clean him up as gently as you could before carrying him to bed. He wasn't that heavy, after all. "I love you, my darling Keigo~" you whispered, resting your head on top of his and closing your eyes.

Maybe the mess could be cleaned tomorrow, you were also very tired.

[writingwithcolor]

(1800s Western) non-racist White characters interacting with Black and Native people

Anonymous asked: 

My story has two white main characters who live on the western frontier in the late 1800s (specifically 1877) and will of course have to interact with both natives and Black people at some point. When they do interact with them, I don’t want these characters to seem like they’re all knowing on the interworkings of racism and how it affects people, but I don’t want them to seem racist either. How could I show that they’re ignorant on some stuff without having them be straight up racist?

Writing a fluffier piece 

Lesya will come from a more historically accurate and detailed perspective. I will answer this as if your piece learns more towards escapism, in which you aren’t trying to perfectly replicate true race relations, but more of a “softened” version of history while not explicitly erasing the history.

The white characters don’t need (and should not) be seen or portrayed as heroes or saviors and not “bumbling idiots” either. They can walk somewhere in the middle. They can treat BIPOC with respect and like humans, so normally, as they would their fellow white characters.

Get the racism out of the way (off screen)

Do not make the people they meet in the story the first Black or Native people they’ve ever met. If they truly were more ignorant in the past, which I would assume they were, let’s just assume they got most of that ignorance out of their system off screen some time ago; previous bias shattered and corrected for the most part by actually meeting BIPOC. I would highly doubt they’re perfect and unbiased completely, but just better than before and not actively looking to harm People of Color in the story.

Micro aggressions or larger scale incidents

Including small incidents of racism or prejudice (micro aggressions) would be realistic. After it occurs, it should be corrected or acknowledged in some way, you as the author noting somehow that the racism is wrong (For example, you might show others’ reactions, the character being confronted, acknowledging and feeling shame from their words or actions, etc)

You could also include singular larger incidents of racism or racially charged-events or tragedies in the storyline, for realism, and have the characters affected or comment on the incident(s).

Now, to Lesya for a deeper historical analysis, with a focus on Native American interactions.

~Mod Colette

Writing a more historically accurate piece

As I outlined in White and Jewish Men, Native American Interaction in 1880s, stories set in this time period are on the cutting edge of genocide. One particularly salient source is going to be List of Indian Massacres in North America, which will be able to give you some idea of some levels of non-war deaths by state per year. You can also check out stuff like Magical Person in History, Not Intervening on Human Rights Issues that gives more genocides of that time period, which are often not outlined in sources like lists of massacres, because wars are counted separately.

What this means is: the level of racism from your average white person at the time is going to be way, way higher than your modern white person, and making them “just ignorant” by our standards is going to make them radically progressive for the standards of the time.

This is the era of the Inconvenient Native, where Native people were “in the way” of American manifest destiny. Pick a newly-founded state and you have found a war with the Native population happening. Residential schools are starting to kick up. Reserves/Reservations are starting to force settlement.

Just seeing Native people as deserving to live on the land beside white people would’ve been a pretty radical opinion at the time. Like… really, really radical opinion. You can spot a handful of isolated incidents where like… one town in an area never broke a treaty, but there are maybe a dozen of those across America? It’s really not many, at all.

For context, one of the most progressive American anthropologists around this time period was Franz Boas; he actually founded the American school of anthropology based around his methods of writing down every detail of culture he could find about these Indigenous groups. He was writing it all down because he was under the impression that assimilation would be inevitable and soon all of these cultures would disappear under the heel of colonialism, so best to preserve the old ways before they vanished forever.

And this guy was a dedicated anti-racist who actually saw value in Indigenous communities. He did things like tried to debunk skull shape equating to intelligence in order to get Eastern European immigrants treated better and Black people treated better. 

Like. That’s progressive. Finding the cultures worth recording. Finding reservations worth allocating. And under that progressive thought pattern was still the belief that cultural death and removal of all Indigenous peoples was inevitable. 

I’ve seen an analysis of Huckleberry Finn that says its racism and its denouncing of racism with all of the slurs involved is actually a really progressive take for the time, especially considering it was written within a generation of emancipation happening.

You’re… going to be dealing with characters who are a lot more racist than we are in the modern day. That’s just kind of the bottom line.

Now this isn’t to say that you can or should toss in a bunch of slurs to show that things were different back then. This will, after all, still be read in the modern world, where those slurs are much trickier to handle. 

But you’re going to need to decide a couple of things:

1- where, exactly, it is

I know “the western front” is a catchall and has a collection of tropes akin to Fantasy World 29, but if you want to have some grounding in history, pick a state whose history you feel you can work with and do research roughly in that geographic area. 

This will determine stuff like:

What tribe you’re discussing

What the state policies of genocide at the time were (they will exist, it’s just how severe)

If there are any areas where Indigenous/white relations are good/okay (this will be a needle in a haystack but good luck!)

What are the competing resources (cows vs bison, water-hogging crops in a desert, etc)

Determine what wars were happening which will influence the anti-Native attitudes of the time 

This’ll also help you determine how many cowboys are Black or Mexican (considering Mexico would have owned quite a lot of the West Coast and southern plains all of 20 years prior), which will help you flesh out the demographics of this “Western” area.

2- What your own comfort levels are

Look. Even anti-racist people of the time would be considered racist by today’s standards. See: Huckleberry Finn and Franz Boas above. Huck Finn was really shockingly progressive for having a white character renounce his faith and his family to say slavery is bad and Black people are equal. It uses slurs left and right because that was the language of the time. 

White people then were working with a much different toolkit than what we have now. They were in the middle of debating whether or not Native and Black people were fully human. There were laws in place that said only the first Christians to inhabit the land were the ones who owned it, and no “heathens” could lay claim to it (the Marshall Trilogy of cases, which, btw, are still in effect today). 

If you’re looking for any sort of grounding in historical reality, you’re dealing with that climate. There is absolutely, positively, no way around it. There is no way to make modern anti-racism and modern levels of ignorance fit in anything grounded historically.

And the thing is, the people who would go to settle the West would have been pro Marshall Trilogy. They would have agreed that the first Christians to walk the land were claiming it; why else would they bother moving? A lot of Western expansion in North America was based off attitudes that lead to the Marshall Trilogy going the way it did. 

Are you comfortable with that? Are you comfortable with a white character’s level of ignorance being, at best, “oh you’re not quite human, you should be happy we’ve given you any land at all because we’re such good people to save a slice of our land for you, but I’ll invite you over for a classic American dinner and give you good American clothes”? 

It’s okay if you’re not. But if you aren’t, then you’re going to need to start looking at essentially creating a historical AU where the racism at the time was a lot less, which means colonialism at the time would be a lot less, which means “The Western Front” is going to look a lot different. I cover colonialism in the western genre heavily in the cowboy tag.

But for reference, you can still have people move around if the Marshall trilogy went differently, and people were just exploring for exploration’s sake. It’s perfectly valid to have them explore just for exploration’s sake, but I’d be cautious to paint them as brave explorers just wandering for the sake of wandering in a historically grounded work. That’s veering into historical revisionism, and ignores manifest destiny attitudes. 

But historically, these missions towards the wild west were federal government sponsored specifically to get more land for white America. You start looking at the early settlers and they would have been doing it specifically to gain access to the West Coast because of a belief that they deserved it. Or you have religious extremists or white supremacists founding their own states to write their own history, like those who settled in Oregon and the Mormons in Utah.

It honestly wouldn’t even take much work to establish a different history, since a lot of the laws that made things so toxic were so new at the time. Something as simple as thanking the Natives whose land they’re using, learning how to grow food from the Natives of the region (even a simple line like “the newer settlers hadn’t quite gotten a handle on [insert Indigenous practice here], but the landowners said if they don’t, we’ll struggle to get food in a few years”), and mixing Western structures with traditional structures of the area is plenty to show that Natives (including Black Natives) are equal. 

Other ways to show equality are:

Having the white people be nomadic or semi-nomadic alongside a tribe, should you pick an area where that’s necessary

Western lines for clothing, Indigenous materials; Indigenous materials, Western lines

Food being a hybrid of what actually works well in the region from other regions and stuff local to the region

The bad guys trying to oust Indigenous people from their lands and the white people fighting back along with the Natives

Mixed relationships on equal footing (Black/Native, Black/white, Native/white)

Political marriages between groups

If you’d rather just write fluffy escapism…

Colette’s tips are great! Make Black and Native people equal for literally no reason other than you want the story to be safe for those groups to read. Pick a rough geographic area just to give your Indigenous peoples around this Western Front town a culture (or three, because the Western front is full of nomadic groups), and you’ll be fine.

But it will be historical fantasy, and should really be treated as such. There’s just way too much racism that happened, casually, in the 1800s for anyone to just so happen to be “an average racist person” by modern standards.

If you want to do something historically based…

Then you’re gonna need to resubmit with our Motivations PSA in mind and say what you’re trying to accomplish with this story; the advice will change based off if you’re trying to show history as it was, critique a certain aspect of the genre, or shedding light on where so much racism comes from in modern day.

Cause “not racist” and “the 1800s” don’t compute, sorry. As we have outlined over and over again, the 1800s is a period of pure unadulterated racism with hundreds of colonial teeth and thousands of mass graves.

Trying to shoehorn modern race politics in that period without consciously modifying history and making it obvious you’re modifying history is, in the end, just historical revisionism so white people can feel better about where their wealth and land comes from.

~Mod Lesya

Published Oct 2021

[eunivrse]

ASMR (I) pathetic

# multi. aot characters / reader

─ you’d think crossing paths with the person who owns the voice you fuck yourself to almost every night would nearly be impossible, but then again, life is full of surprises.

content warning: heavy nsfw content, inspired by those moaning audios u see on twt/youtube, masturbation

word count: 2.9k

series m.list | next chapter

“Fuck baby, how I wish this was your pussy instead of my hand.” The voice was whiny, yet so attractive in a way that it isn’t annoying.

Your phone was right next to your blanket covered body, earbuds tucked into your ear, hands slipped inside your underwear, two of your fingers splitting your pussy open, then entering a finger in.

“Hah-“ You let out a small gasp.

Pathetic.

It’s the only word fitting for the obscene act you’re committing. You’re literally finger fucking yourself to a black screen.

No one knows anything about this person besides the fact that he goes by he/him pronouns and he’s in the age of 19, according to his bio. Hell, no one even knows his ethnicity, race, or if he’s actually even jerking off in his videos. But for someone as mysterious as this guy, he’s one of the fastest growing channels on YouTube as of right now.

It’s funny if you think about it. All he does is record his moans, say a few nasty words here and there, and boom. A million views.

The only disadvantage is that YouTube isn’t pleased with the fact that his channel is basically ear porn, but they never managed to take down his videos, only going as far as demonetizing his channel — meaning that he can’t make money off his videos despite the millions of views. Not like that matters anyways.

He’s probably filthy rich either way. His patreon is just as popular as his youtube, he’s getting paid 2 dollars a month by at least 10 thousand people.

You know this person has the brains too. He would sometimes upload an audio of the build up of his orgasm, then would cut it off right before he cums, so he could lure people into paying for his monthly subscription.

Only 2 dollars a month, and you’d get a full length audio from him everyday, he says.

You were naive enough to give in, but 2 dollars a month isn’t so bad if you get to hear his heavenly moans everyday.

Customs, from getting him to say your name to requesting if he could overstimulate himself, he does it all. Just venmo him another 10 dollars and he’d give you the highest quality, back arching, whimper audio of himself.

If he does actually jerks off in his audios, you applaud him for having that insane amount of sexual drive that gets him to do all those requests and nearly daily uploads of him pumping his cock.

You don’t know him, and he doesn’t know you, but the way his voice cracks sometimes when he begs for the listener to let him cum, or his voice deep and husky when describing how much he wants to bend you over a desk and fuck you dumb — he can make you feel like you’re only his and he’s only yours.

He’s very generous to his followers too, even if you don’t subscribe to his patreon. He still releases audios in his YouTube channel, just not as much in quantity because of the guidelines.

He caters to everyone, which is what drew so many people in besides the perfect quality his voice has. And though it’s not often, he does voice audios for male-bodied, but his target audience are female-bodied listeners.

You’re in love with a man whose face or name you don’t even know, only going by his channel name Euphoria.

Fitting, as he quite literally does make you feel euphoric with just his voice.

You weren’t even the worst sheep in his huge flock of followers as some of his comments really have no filter.

’more daddy please?’

’who else is listening to this without earphones on?’

’just squirted to this, keep up the good content.’

Disgusting, have they no shame? Some of the comments are bordering disrespectful too, but you’re guessing that’s just part of what he does.

The person behind that microphone must have the biggest ego, there’s no way they don’t. Not after all the comments of people saying they’ve jerked off to his voice, all the patreon subscribers, and the people on social media constantly talking about his audios and how hot his voice is.

There’s even some people trying to copy his content, but their channel either get taken down or it just doesn’t do as well as this guy’s.

Oh how you wish you could be his sometimes. It’s impossible, there’s millions of 19 year olds in this world, much like yourself. You don’t even really know if he’s actually 19, though at least he sounds around that age range.

You’re willing to take a bet his face is just as sexy as his voice, but some of the comments saying that he refuses to show his face because he’s actually ugly is making you doubt yourself a little.

You’ve also convinced yourself that he probably has the prettiest cock, pretty pink and moderate length. He’s always describing how hard he is for the listener, and the sound of his hand stroking his dick makes you wonder how good it must be to have his cock balls deep inside you.

Even if he’s not all that in terms of looks, whoever ends up with him can hear him — make him moan in within the grasp of their fingertips.

“God. You’re so fuckin hot, fuck, fuck.” You could hear the slick of his cock squelch as he released, a high pitched yelp escaping his lips, then hearing his hand slow down.

“Fuck yeah.” He pants. You could still hear his hand move, the audio ending a few seconds later.

You came along with him, your fingers now soaked with your arousal and the wave of guilt crashing over you.

It always happens. You always suddenly feel so guilty after getting off to the stranger’s voice.

Chest heaving and breathing regulating, you stared at the ceiling, hoping to shake off the icky feeling you’re experiencing right now.

---

“Reiner! I’m not-“

“You’re going. End of discussion.” He crosses his arms and leans back on his chair.

“I do not wanna hang out with Jaeger and his group. Why do I have to go?!” You slam your glass mug on the wooden table, too frustrated to care that some of your drink splashed out of the mug.

“Are you six years old? Why not?” He raises an eyebrow.

Reiner, Bertholdt, Pieck and Porco decided to pop in by surprise in your shared apartment with Annie. The reason they barged in with no shame is because Eren Jaeger invited all of you to his house party later tonight.

“I have my reasons.” You spit, slapping the table with your palm and getting everyone else’s attention.

“Is it because Connie is gonna be there?” Annie asks bluntly.

“I- I’m— I don’t-“

“I- I- shut up. Just say yes, so Reiner can shut the fuck up already.” Porco mocks, propping his legs up the table until Annie smacks it and he plants it back on the ground.

“Okay, so it is about Connie.” Pieck piped in, her mouth full of food.

You scoff, “hm, fine. I’ll go. Only so I could prove that it isn’t about him.”

Connie is a nice guy, sometimes a little too nice and you feel like you don’t deserve it. You didn’t think much of your hookups with him, but he thought otherwise. He wanted to take it seriously with you, and you didn’t.

You felt shitty, you had no idea he kept calling you over to get your back blown out because he actually had feelings for you. He’s attractive, funny, and the sex was more than good. It’s nothing he did, you just don’t want to commit to a long term relationship.

It’s been a month and neither of you have interacted since you basically rejected him. This also means it’s been a month since you completely drowned yourself in the community of ASMR moaning audios. You kinda have him to thank for that too.

“Fair.” Bertholdt smiles and nods. Face always lit with a grin and never having anything foul to say.

“What about you Annie? It seems unlikely that you aren’t protesting.” You change the subject in hopes that the topic of Connie wouldn't be brought up again.

“Why’d you even ask? It’s obvious it’s ‘cus Armin would be-“

“Hey. Shut the hell up.” She interrupts Porco, her stare fierce. When she’s defensive like this, it means it’s true.

“Armin? The one that you called pretentious?” You ask, a little surprised by her sudden interest in him.

“Ugh. He’s not pretentious, okay? Things have changed, and so what? What if I do like him? What’s that have to do with you?” You can see her cheeks turn pink, her words stumbling and fingers fiddly.

You don’t know Armin— well, you don’t really know anyone from his group of friends besides Connie and Jean.

Annie has mentioned how much she hated his ‘innocent facade’, whatever that means. Considering the fact that she’s taking a liking to him, maybe insults are her way of being affectionate.

You’ve known Annie long enough to realize that she doesn’t have much experience in terms of dating even though it’s a waste of her good looks.

“No one’s judging you, don’t worry about it. I think Armin’s a cute boy.” Pieck grins and pats Annie’s back to calm her down.

“I guess it makes sense since you’ve been hanging out with him more often than with us.” Bertholdt rolls his eyes and Annie puts on a shy smile. Rare, but if that’s what makes her happy, then no one will get in her way.

“Hm, so all of us are going? No objections?” Reiner sways his finger from side to side to see if anyone will protest.

Silence.

“Alrighty. We’re leaving at 7pm, sharp.”

---

You’re only on your way to Eren’s house and you’re already dreading it. And to make matters worse, you had to drive Pieck and Annie after losing a game of rock, paper, scissors with them.

Eren has some type of wealth as his brother and father are successful business owners, so his house party isn't really his per se.

He doesn’t even live there anymore since he resides in a dorm, but apparently his parents are gonna be away for the weekend, so what better time to ransack the place and fill it with college students.

When you got there, there were already some cars parked up in front of the fairly huge house, not big enough to be a mansion, but still grande.

Pieck was snoring lightly, Annie tapping her shoulder gently to wake her up. You already see Reiner and the rest step out of the car, so you three did the same and met up with them, so you could all enter the house together.

When Eren himself welcomed you in, you were surprised that there weren’t as many people as you expected. There’s still a lot of people of course, but not nearly the normal size of a typical Jaeger-held party.

Reiner and Bertholdt immediately went to the kitchen to get something to eat, Pieck and Porco greeting some of the people they know and Annie walking away from beside you, most likely to look for Armin.

After Reiner dragged you here, you still ended up being alone in the end. And what’s the best way to wash all your sorrows away in this situation? Drinking.

---

You just wanted to go home, figuring Pieck and Annie can just ride with Reiner if they really have to stay.

You were kept company by Eren the whole time in the kitchen bar stool area. He was touchy with you, but you didn’t mind. Arm around your shoulder and lips way too close to your neck, but both of you consumed way too much alcohol to care about boundaries.

You aren’t sure as to why he’s even talking to you— he’s the life of the party, he could be talking to anyone else, but you somehow even shared a warm kiss on the lips, slowly turning into a makeout session.

You two barely know each other and you were at least sober enough to realize that hooking up with one of Connie’s friends probably won’t be the best decision, so you politely stopped him after he tried taking you to his bedroom. He respected that, letting you go with his number in your contacts.

Connie hasn’t approached you the whole time, nor do you know if he’s even in the house, so you didn’t bother caring at that point.

Being in the open while making out with the party host is gutsy of you, but either way, you rushed to your car because you were just notified about Euphoria’s new audio released exclusively on patreon.

If you think about it, your priorities are kinda off. You picked having your own fingers up your pussy while listening to a stranger’s voice instead of one of the most handsome guys on campus doing it for you.

You weren’t attracted to Eren though, you knew at least that despite just having your tongue down his throat just minutes ago. He has way too much self confidence and you prefer someone a little bit more humble.

When you got into your apartment, you kicked off your shoes and ran straight for your room. You hopped on the bed and pulled up your phone, earbuds already in your ears.

But before you could even open the patreon app, you could hear something on the other side of the wall.

A moan, specifically a woman’s moan.

Is Annie home?

You swear you didn’t see her leave the house earlier, much less with anyone else, but then again, you were being distracted by Eren. You also don’t hear anyone else’s voice, so maybe she’s getting herself off, but in the 6 months you’ve lived with her, she’s never been that loud.

Regardless, you don’t care as long as you can listen to your trusty audio without further distraction, so you opened up the audio and placed your phone face down on your pillow.

The thing about Euphoria’s videos is that he doesn’t beat around the bush. He knows what the listener is there for, so that’s what he’ll dish out.

“Hah, baby do you know how hard it is for me that I can’t see you?” Were his first words. His microphone sounded crisp and clear, he really does make highest quality audios.

He definitely wasn’t the first one that started making porn for the ears. It’s been a thing ever since the ASMR community got some attention on the internet, but what’s different about Euphoria is that it isn’t just a horny teenager milking himself dry. He makes you feel included, he makes you feel like he actually wants you despite knowing that he just wants your money.

The way he speaks to the listener is as if he’s known you for years.

Charismatic is the perfect word to describe him.

You could hear his hand squeeze around his cock, his lips releasing huffs of breath as he struggles to speak a full sentence.

The audio is 5 minutes long, shorter than usual, but from just the first words, you’re already satisfied.

“‘Miss your pussy. ‘Wish you could come over and have you ride me, you’d like that won’t you, love?” He groans, voice is so intoxicating, you’d think the alcohol was enough to make you drunk.

“Yes.” You answer, pants and underwear already thrown on the ground, your finger rubbing your clit.

Shameful. If your friends ever find out what you do alone and what you masturbate to, you will never hear the end of it.

“Ah, god.” You gasp, one of your fingers slowly pushing inside you. Usually, fingering yourself isn’t pleasurable for you. You’d have to use a toy for you to have a proper orgasm, but ever since you started listening to him, just with a little bit of clit stimulation and a finger inside you, it could get you cumming hard.

His voice is just that good.

“Fuck, baby, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He lets out a cute little laugh followed by a moan, and you can hear the wet sounds from the lube on his cock caught by the microphone. You were close yourself, one hand over your mouth and fingers pumping in you faster.

“Fuck..!” He yelps, but the voice echoed and it threw you off, stopping your fingers from moving.

You paused the recording just as you heard the cum spurt on his microphone and you listened intently if the echo was a glitch, or it came from somewhere else.

Slightly angry that you just edged yourself, you came to the conclusion that the noise definitely came from Annie’s side of the wall.

She might also be listening to Euphoria, but Annie? Out of all people?

And more so, without earbuds on?

You stood up, legs numb from having just had them spread apart and you put your ear on the wall to see if you could hear anything.

Faint slapping of the skin and heavy breathing.

“Armin, please.” A low, deep moan falters from Annie’s mouth. Her moans were sexier than you could ever imagine, but you felt weird listening to them.

Annie doesn’t even say her please when she asks you to get her pads from the convenience store, but she’s saying please for some man?

“What? What do you want, baby?”

That voice.

Oh my god.

Is that Euphoria?

© EUNIVRSE 2022

[bees--in-my--bones]

Sunset

Character: Natasha x gn!Reader (please note I did write this with a female reader in mind, so I'm sorry if there are unintentional biases but there were no pronouns or indications of gender at all)

Note: soulmate AU where you can only see color when you look at your soulmate for the first time. i hate to admit it, but i did get this idea from tiktok.

Warnings: canon typical violence, angst, major character death, no happy ending

Word Count: 1,859

A/N: This is my first fic ever! I'm actually really proud of how it turned out and I hope you like it and stick around for more! :)

You had never seen your partner.

It was just protocol. The nature of the missions you two worked, it was safer if you couldn't identify each other.

You had been near her, of course, and heard her voice whispering to you in the train station or over the phone. But you had never once laid eyes on her.

You were an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D, and one of Natasha Romanoff's most important and most trusted contacts.

Over the years of working together, you two had become the closest of friends. Fury had no idea that you two were that close, but what Fury didn't know couldn’t hurt him. If it was any pair of spies operating at your level, a close personal relationship would be a problem, but you two were the best in your field, and more than capable of handling it.

It had taken a while for the two of you to talk, really talk, the extent of your interactions being whispered conversations back to back on a set of park benches, or a flash drive set subtly on a table next to an untouched coffee, but one day, probably the best day of your life, you had asked the question and she had answered.

Every phone call with her, you would ask the same question before hanging up.

"How are you doing, Nat?"

And every time, without fail, you would receive the same, gruff, "Fine."

She clearly wasn't one to talk about the touchy-feely stuff. Which was fine by you, you didn't open up often either, most spies you met didn't, but you still gave her that chance, every time.

Until one day, much to your surprise, she responded, "Not great."

It wasn't much, but it was something different. It was an invitation to keep talking. Containing your excitement at the change in conversation, you kept your voice steady. "What's the matter?"

She sighed, the sound crackling faintly over her phone's mic. "I'm back in a place I haven't been in for a long time."

You had no way of knowing exactly where she was- S.H.I.E.L.D took plenty of precautions to be sure of that- but you could make an educated guess. The information you had passed along to her a few days ago had been about a weapons smuggler currently in Russia.

"You know what?" she said, "I don't really want to talk about it. I'll check in with you when the mission's over."

"Natasha, wait!"

Silence from the other line, but she was still on the call.

"Let's just talk. About something else. I think we could both use some casual conversation."

She let out a small chuckle. "Sure, why not? This is a burner phone and I've got time to kill."

It was a bit awkward at first, but you soon fell into a natural conversation. That night you talked about many things. Small things, like favorite foods, and big things, like plans for the future if you ever left S.H.I.E.L.D.

That's when you learned that she couldn't see color.

You weren’t surprised. You couldn’t see color either. It wasn't uncommon for S.H.I.E.L.D to hire people who hadn't met their soulmate. It was a lonely job, and soulmates were a liability.

It was a small moment in your conversation and you continued talking about all sorts of other things late into the night.

Unfortunately, though, all good things must come to an end.

"I'll have to talk to you later, Nat. I've got a big job tomorrow I need to get ready for."

"Goodnight Y/N, and thank you."

"Let's make a habit out of this, okay?"

"Gotcha, Agent."

You smiled and hung up the phone.

From then on, you always lingered on calls. Never quite as long as that first call, but the two of you were quickly becoming each other's closest confidantes.

Soon you began talking in real life, too. You never turned to face each other, never broke that boundary, but you relished the feeling of her shoulder brushing yours as you watched the pigeons in a park.

You called each other before and after every job to check in on each other. You had drop spots outside of Fury's radar where you left each other small gifts. Your life was lonely and cold, but she gave your days warmth and light.

-----

Around a year and a half after your initial conversation, you met in a smokey French cafe, sitting in nearby booths.

“Nat.”

“Agent.”

“Whaddya got for me?”

“No intel on the current mission, but I’ve got news from HQ. Fury’s pulling us from the field.”

You felt your blood run cold. Spywork was dangerous, but it was what you knew. You were good at it. If you were fired, you would be thrown into suburbia with a fake name and fake past- maybe even fake memories, if Fury deemed you untrustworthy- and you would live the rest of your days out in the rat race.

And worst of all, you would live out the rest of your days without Natasha.

“What did we do?” you asked her, putting a massive amount of concentration into keeping your voice from betraying your panic.

“We did good,” she said, a smile in her voice. “We’ve been selected for an elite team to protect the entire world. You and I, Barton, and if we can convince them, Tony Stark, Steve Rodgers, and Bruce Banner.”

“That gamma radiation guy? Do we even know where he disappeared to?”

“We never lost tabs on him.”

You let out a sigh of relief. “You scared me, Nat. I thought Fury had benched us.”

She laughed. “No, we’re still in the game for now. And when Fury gives the word, we’ll head back to New York and hang out like normal people for a change.”

“That would be nice,” you said, your voice quiet.

You heard her move around a bit, then swear. “I have to run," she said. "If I don’t make this drop Fury'll kill me.”

“I’ll talk to you later Nat,” you said. “Hopefully face to face.”

You waited for a response, but heard only silence. You turned and her booth was empty, like she had never been there.

------

"Hey there, Agent," came her warm voice over the receiver. You couldn't help but smile, remembering how cold her voice had been when you had first been partnered together.

"Hey there, Black Widow," you said, using the alias that some younger agents had been whispering behind her back.

“Very funny,” she laughed, “but I’m no Tony Stark. I don’t need a fancy code name.”

“You never know,” you said, your voice still light and teasing. “We should probably both come up with some cool code names for that team Fury was talking about. I think Black Widow suits you.”

“Is that supposed to be an insult?”

“No, it means you’re badass. How did your drop go?”

“Good,” she said. “Pretty standard, didn’t run into any problems. How are things on your end?”

“Not bad. I’ve got one thing to finish up this evening, and then I should be good to go. I’ll meet you at the airport at around 5:45 tonight?”

“I’ll be waiting for you, Agent.”

“I’ll be there, Black Widow.”

-----

You snuck around the corner of the warehouse. It was supposed to be one guy. Take him out, take down the whole operation, but apparently, the whole operation was being run out of here. You glanced at your watch. 5:42. Shit. You were gonna miss your flight. A guard passed by, and you froze in place.

You thought he hadn't seen you, but suddenly the sound of his footsteps stopped, then became louder as he ran back towards you, brandishing a weapon. Ducking under him, you grabbed the gun and twisted it away from you, and knocked him over the head with your own pistol.

Suddenly, a loud sound blared over the intercom. Shit. He had sounded the alarm.

You grabbed his gun and made a break for it.

-----

Natasha glanced anxiously at her watch. 5:50.

She glanced around nervously. You hadn’t answered a single one of her calls. She picked up her phone and dialed Nick Fury’s number.

“Fury? Yeah, I know I’m supposed to be getting on a plane, but Y/N isn’t here. Yes, I tried calling. No, Y/N told me 5:45. A good agent is not late, and Y/N is the best agent I know. Where was the mission at? I’m going in. Fury! Tell me now or so help me God... Thank you, that wasn’t too hard, was it?”

She snapped her phone shut. You weren’t too far from where she was.

------

Natasha pulled up to a worn down warehouse with boarded on one side with a forest. Truck after truck pulled away from the building, and she grimaced as she realized what had happened. This was not a simple job like you had thought. Whatever operation you had infiltrated was now fleeing after being busted, and they were likely on shoot to kill orders.

Suddenly she saw you figure limping towards the woods, and before she even knew she had moved, she was racing towards you.

-----

Pain tore through you.

Your abdomen was on fire. You had been shot before, but this hurt. You struggled to get to the cover of the woods. Suddenly a firm hand was on you back, arms were cradling you, and lowering you down to the ground.

“Shh, don’t move,” came Natasha’s voice. “They aren’t worried about finding us, they’re too busy running.”

You looked into her face, making eye contact with your long-time partner for the first time ever, and the world exploded in color.

The grass and trees became vibrant with life, and you turned to look at the new world around you. When you turned back to look at Natasha, her eyes were filled with wonder.

“You hair…” you said weakly, your voice trailing off.

“They tell me it’s red,” she said, her voice wavering.

“Red,” you said, relishing the word on your lips, the feeling of knowing what it meant. “Red is my favorite.”

She smiled, but tears trailed down her face. “Shh, don’t talk. Save your energy, we’ll get you somewhere where they can fix you.”

Ignoring her, you shook your head. "I'm not gonna make it."

You reached up your hand to touch her face. She grabbed your hand and pressed it against her cheek. “I’m glad it was you Nat. I love you.”

“I love you too, Y/N”

She pressed a gentle kiss against your lips and cradled you against her chest.

“Look at the sky, Nat,” you said. “It’s beautiful.”

The sun was setting, and the myriad of brilliant colors spread over the horizon.

"As far as ways to go out," you said, "it could have been worse."

Nat said nothing, only held you tighter

The two of you sat like that until Natasha saw the sunset fade to black and white and the tears blurred her vision.

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

Thank you so much for reading! I really hope you liked it! @love8loki here's one of the reader death stories I was talking about. thanks for your advice lol

[andreafmn]

I’m Not Afraid - Chapter 2

Word Count: 4,585

Characters: Female Reader Argent Character, Original Male Argent Character, Derek Hale, Allison Argent, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, Chris Argent, Jackson Whittemore

Story Description: (Y/N) Argent arrived at Beacon Hills to put to rest her father’s sister, Kate Argent. For the first time, her family has decided to settle down and sustain a life in this interesting small town. After 17 years, (Y/N) has the opportunity to establish interpersonal relationships but will she be ready to face the complications that come with relating to her cousin’s, Allison, friends; especially, the infamous Derek Hale. She will face the adventure of being associated with the Derek and McCall pack as well as being faced with the discovery of certain aspects of her life she never imagined.

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Teen Wolf, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Jeff Davis and MTV Network. The only thing I own is Argent Reader insert, her immediate family, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others’ storyline.

Chapter: 2/?

A/N:  SOFT DEREK, SOFT DEREK!!!!! If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

<- Previous | Next ->

Chapter 2

5:00 am my phone read. 

It was usual for my brain to be awake at this hour. Since before I can remember it was part of the schedule I followed, everywhere I went. It was a small thing, but the sense of normalcy was a comforting friend. It made sense to follow a routine I could have anywhere. I was out of bed and into workout clothes, ready for a quick jog around the woods. 

I started off with a slow and comfortable trot before speeding up once I reached the tree-filled terrain. The smell of wet soil, the sound of birds chirping and leaves rustling, the crunching of leaves under my feet was oddly comforting. There was a strange pull that came from the heart of Beacon Hills. I had lived in many places in my short lifetime but this place was different, the atmosphere was different, the people were different. One of those people was Derek Hale, the mysterious, broody, sarcastic man that had bumped his way in. 

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

"Why are you stopping?" He asked, a small chuckle escaping his mouth. 

"How did you get here? Where the hell did you come from?"

"You're not the only person who jogs in this town and this happens to be the trail I take. You know, you should work out on a trail that is closer to your house. Makes it easier to actually go back."

I looked around. Once again, I had trailed off and didn't know where I was. "Lucky for you, I have a great memory. We can finish off running and I'll instruct you back to your house."

"You know you sound like a stalker." We started to jog once again.

"How so?" 

"Well, you've only been there like two or three times and you already know the way back. Creepy!"

"Oh, come on, it means that I have a very sharp memory. Unlike you who can't seem to remember what house you live in."

"Touché."

The con and occasionally laughing at something. It felt good talking to him, almost natural. There was a supernatural attraction that I felt when I was near him, an unusual need for his closeness. Our relationship came easy, as the cliché would have it, it felt like I had known him all my life. 

We ran for about an hour and a half before we turned back. "I think it's time we went back. You have school in an hour."

"Whoa, take the stalking down a notch."

"Oh, come on, I went to that school before you, I think I know the schedule."

"Alright, grandpa. Let's head back. It's time for your breakfast smoothie and then some bingo."

"Very funny." He ruffled my hair whilst fake laughing.

"I try." We ran and ran until I came into view of the curb that led to the house. "Well, this is my exit. Would it be too much to ask for you to take me to school?"

"Not a problem. Meet you back here at 7:45?"

"That would be perfect." He kissed my cheek and left to run to where I believe was his house. My face turned red, and I ducked inside.

"Mom? Dad?" I entered the kitchen and noticed a note over a covered plate. "Left for work early. Eat your food and go to school." I read out loud.

I took my time getting ready for school. My bag was already packed, as was my lunch. A long shower and a slow breakfast were in store as I awaited Derek's black Camaro to roll into my driveway. 

"Thanks so much for the lift. I packed you some breakfast." 

"No problem and thank you." He smiled. "You know, maybe after school, I can finally give you a tour around town. So you can familiarize yourself."

"That would be wonderful." I checked my schedule. "Actually, you can pick me up an hour before school ends. I have study hall at that hour, and no one would care if I left."

"I think I can make that arrangement." He looked at me showing a perfect set of white teeth and a smile that would make anyone melt. "But wouldn't your parents know that you left school? I mean, you won't be there when they go pick you up."

"I'll just tell them Allison gave me a ride or walked home," I said thinking of more excuses I could tell my parents. Distracted by my thoughts, my hand started reaching out to the powered-off radio and I didn't notice that so did Derek's. A sharp current went up my arm as our hands make contact. We both quickly pulled away and I could feel the blood rushing to my face turning it a deep shade of red.

"Sorry, I shouldn't impose. It's your car." I spoke up, quick to start picking at the skin around my fingernails to busy my hands. Derek perceived the nervous nature of my actions and stopped my fussing by putting one of his hands over mine. 

"Don't worry it's fine. Just put the radio on whatever station you like." He smiled reassuringly and I reached to the radio and just turned it on, leaving it in the last station it had been on.

"Ugh, I absolutely dread going to school. Most of it I'm gonna forget either way."

"I'd tell you to ditch but that would be shame on me, so I won't. But think about it, this day you'll only get 7 hours of school and then you can hang out with me. Best present ever."

"Yeah, don't think so highly of yourself. Maybe I'll just wander around town until I find my way home."

"Very funny." He stopped at the drop-off zone. "This is your stop."

"Thanks again for the ride, awfully kind actions from such a sour wolf" I laughed at his scowl. "I'll see you in the afternoon."

"Looking forward to it." I exited the car and he waited till I was on the sidewalk to speed off.

"Was that Derek Hale that just dropped you off?" I turned around and was met face-to-face with Scott.

"Yeah. What's the problem?" Not that it will matter.

"You shouldn't trust him, he's bad news."

"Honestly, Scott, I understand your good intentions, but I'll sort out the wrong kind on my own terms." He looked taken aback at my response, probably thinking I would not talk back.

"I'm sorry if I offended you, but he is not a person that anyone should be with." With that, he left with worry evident on his face.

I understood that he was looking out for my "well-being”, but he didn't know me and I'm pretty sure he didn't know Derek either. Maybe that's what Derek meant when I met him. Everyone thinks he is a bad person, but he hasn't done anything wrong in my eyes.

I walked over to my locker and started exchanging my books. Closely next to me I could hear Scott talking to Allison about me and Derek, and my name should be out of his mouth. Once I finished with my locker, I slammed the door and they both stopped talking, noting my close presence. I walked past them feeling their worried stares burning my back. This was going to be a hell of a year. The only thing that could get me through it was the acquaintance relationship I have with Isaac. I did text him a bit last night but mostly helping him with homework. Lord knows he needs all the help he can get.  

We all stood around in gym class as Stiles and Erica climbed the rock wall. Everyone else had gone including Scott who mastered a great fall. Stiles appeared to have fun, but Erica would let out sounds of discomfort and shortness of breath as she climbed. At a point, she stopped. 

"Erica, are you dizzy?" Coach said. "Is it vertigo?" 

"Vertigo is the dysfunction of the vesicular system of the inner ear" Lydia stated in a mocking tone. "She's just freaking out." 

"Erica!" Coach screamed.

"coach, maybe it’s not safe. you know she's epileptic." Allison stated. How does no one care? 

"Wh-why does no one tell me this?!" Coach Finstock questioned annoyed. "Erica, just fall back, there's a mat that will catch you." 

She slowly let go of the wall and made her descent. No one seemed to care that the poor girl was shaken to the core; they all laughed.

When class was over everyone headed to their respective locker rooms to change. Something inside me kept pulling me back to the gym, so I walked back as I put on my shirt. As I opened the doors, I saw Erica fall from the wall and luckily into Scott's arms. He slowly put her on the floor as the class ran in behind us. 

"Put her on her side," I stated. 

"How did you know?" Allison whispered to Scott.

"I just felt it." He whispered back. 

After Erica had calmed, the coach called an ambulance to take her to be checked at the hospital and the day went by normally. I was currently in my "last" period. Tapping my nails in a rhythmic pattern waiting for the stupid bell to ring. Only 5 more minutes and I would be out of here. This was the first time I had done something like this. I always stick by the rules and make sure to follow all of them. My heart was racing, and my palms were sweating. In 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. Cue the bell. I grabbed all my things and stuffed them in my bag. I used to my advantage the fact that everyone was piled in the hallway and headed outside. Waiting for me was Derek in his black Camaro. Suddenly my heart steadied its pace and I felt relaxed.

"Hey there, rebel." He smirked at me as I entered the car and buckled my seatbelt.

"Don't make small talk. Just go." I said whilst trying to hide by burrowing in the seat. If I could I would have jumped into the trunk to avoid any hidden stares from authority figures.

"Don't tell me you've never done this before." I shook my head no and felt my face growing warmer by the second. "Aw, you're so innocent. For a big mouth that is." I slapped his arm as hard as I could.

"Don't be rude." I crossed my arms, slouched down, and pouted. He looked over at me and laughed. That made me slouch farther down.

"Oh, come on. Don't get mad." He ruffled my hair and laughed once again when I swatted his hand away. "Yeesh, feisty."

"So, where's our first pit stop?" I asked whilst looking out the window not wanting to look at his face.

"A small diner I know. Wouldn't want you to starve." He smirked. "Might make you angrier."

"I am not angry, just annoyed."

"Got some feelings hurt?" He said laughing.

"Derek, don't be rude. You will regret it."

"Oh, what could you do?"

"Is that a challenge?" He didn't answer, just laughed. I rolled down the window and stuck my head out. "HELP!! This man is kidnapping me!! HELP!! Bloody he...!" 

My sentence was cut short by Derek's hand pulling me down by my jacket and onto the seat again.

"Why did you do that?" I asked innocently. I had caused the faces of a few people on the street to look at the car in horror.

"You know why! That was totally uncalled for."

"I told you that being rude was something you would regret. I'm not one to say this a lot but, I told you so." 

He tried his best to keep a tight scowl on his face but in a matter of seconds, we were laughing at my past actions.

"Whatever, we're here." He turned off the car and went to the passenger side to open the door for me. 

"Why thank you," I said and took his extended hand to pull my weight up. 

"No problem." I smiled at his goofy courtesy but as we walked inside the establishment I could feel my heart beating faster by the second. "Table for two." Derek pointed at a booth made for two people exactly. Once we had sat down a lady maybe in her late thirties approached us to take our order.

"What do you want to order today, darlings?" She gave us a warm smile as she waited for our response.

"I'll have the bacon cheeseburger with some onion rings, a stack of pancakes, and some chicken fillets, a Diet Coke, and afterward some pie, please."

"Would you like the kitchen sink with that?" I said in shock. "I think I'll just get the, ummmm, bacon cheeseburger also with some onion rings and an iced tea. Maybe add some pie afterward too."

The lady laughed a bit, nodded, and smiled at us as she turned to the kitchen to put out our order. 

"So, someone's a bit hungry. Huh, sour wolf?" I chuckled.

"Why do you call me that?" He said somewhat annoyed.

"I don't know. It just fits you."

"How?"

"Cause you're very sour and you kind of look like a wolf. Hairy face and crazy hair. I don't know how to explain it. It's just a nickname, though. If it makes you mad I can just call you something else."

"I'm not mad. Just wondering." He slouched on the seat looking less tense. "How is it that I'm usually so bad with meeting people yet with you, I just clicked?"

"I don't know. I'm just special that way."

"Very funny."

"I know! I could take up a career in comedy." He chuckled as he threw a sugar packet at me. "So, since we are getting to know each other we should know basic things about one another. Let me start. What's your favorite color?"

"Maybe black or blue. What about you?"

"Totally red and black." The waitress came with our drinks. I took a sip of my iced tea and continued with the questions. "Favorite place to be?"

"That house in the woods where we met." I gave him a weird look.

"Why there? It barely stands with a foundation. What could possibly be there?"

"It's the house I used to live in before it burnt down. My family was in there." I choked on my drink when he said this.

"Oh my gosh, Derek. I'm so sorry I brought it up. We can drop the topic."

"Don't worry about it. It happened such a long time ago it's sometimes relieving talking about it." After there was an awkward silence, so Derek cleared his throat and asked a question. "Um, and what's your favorite place to be?"

"I'm not sure. Usually, I like places more because of the people I'm with. But if I had to choose probably the woods, it's the calmest place I know. The only place where you can actually be free."

"Wow, Ms. Argent. So poetic. It touched me." He pointed at his heart. "Right here."

"Very funny, now, favorite sport?" And the game went on even when our food served. Whilst eating we kept asking each other questions and getting to know each other profoundly. This has been the first time I had ever opened up to someone. It felt strange. Letting someone know small details about yourself. Making yourself vulnerable to them. Showing them how they could break you. But this was different. I felt like I was just becoming closer to him.

"We should do that someday. I mean the thought of just leaving for a whole day, not knowing where you are going, just finding an adventure."

"Definitely. You decide when the first time." I smiled at him.

"That's a deal." He looked down at his watch. "I think it's time I take you home. Don't want your parents to worry."

"Alright. Let's go." I grabbed my bag and was about to pay my part of the check, but he wouldn't let me. He grabbed the money I left and paid completely. "I don't understand the need of being such a gentleman if this wasn't a date. Just two people hanging out."

"So, this wasn't a date?"

"You thought it was?" I thought about it. "What do you classify a date per se?"

"An outing in which two people go out and get to know each other a little bit more." What he said made sense. It had never dawned on me that this could have been anything other than just a casual outing, but not being too well versed in normal social encounters, let alone dating encounters. 

"Alright, you win. I have officially gone on my first date."

"No way. This could not have been your first date." When he saw the serious look on my face, he stopped chuckling. "I'm so sorry you had to have given you such a crappy first date. I promise I'll make up for it one day."

"Deal." We even shook on it. "Now let's get going before my parents know I'm late."

During the drive back, he pointed out different key places I should know when going around Beacon Hills as well as easier routes to these places. Although I was heavily grateful for all the useful tips, my brain could hardly remember the first route he showed me. 

When we got to my house, I noticed that my father's car was not in there. I guess they haven't arrived yet. I said goodbye to Derek and entered the house, thanking him for a lovely afternoon. I changed into workout attire and, deciding to stay home, went to the basement and started working out. After half an hour of running and half an hour of physical training, I decided it was enough and went to take a shower. I noticed that my parents weren't home yet.

"I wonder what's holding them back?" After my shower, I continued my current read of Pride and Prejudice. But something was bothering me, a thought that wouldn't leave my head.

I'm leaving once the year is over. Getting close to Derek will fuck me up once I leave. I've never had to say goodbye to anyone. I can't start now. I'll need to start avoiding him. Don't know how, but I must try.

I went downstairs to get a glass of water when I heard a knock on the door. It was Uncle Chris.

"Hey, Uncle Chris. What are you doing here?"

"I'm looking for your father. Is he here?"

"No, I haven't seen him. I got here and neither mom nor dad was here. Is something wrong?"

"No. Just couldn't reach his cell. I'm sure he's fine. Have a good night, sweetheart." He kissed my forehead and left. I started to worry. What if something had happened?

So, I decided to call him. Fortunately, he picked up.

"Dad, where are you?"

"Oh, honey, I forgot to tell you. Your mom and I will be out for the rest of the week. We left some money on the first drawer of the right side of the kitchen island and if you want you can stay with your uncle."

"But Uncle Chris came by and he didn't know where you were. Does he know you left?"

"Oh, I forgot to call him. I'll do that right now. Goodnight, munchkin, go to sleep."

"Goodnight, dad. Love you."

"Love you too." I hung up the phone and went upstairs completely forgetting about the glass of water I went to drink.

My phone buzzed and I looked at the caller ID signaling that Isaac was calling.

"Hey, Isaac."

"Hey, (Y/N). Um, do you think you can pick me up?" Isaac said in between short pants.

"Sure, where are you?" I asked. He told me where he was, and I took the keys to my mother's car to look for Isaac. He looked scared and frantic when I neared the spot, he told me about. His physique also looked different. Usually, he would walk cowering but now he stood tall and seemed a bit more buff. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just, um, do you think I could stay with you tonight?"

"I guess." I started driving to my house. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, totally. Just tired." I took the hint. He didn't want to talk, and I wasn't going to press on.

At my house, I arranged the guest room and got him spare clothes to change into. He thanked me and left for the bathroom. Something was wrong. But what?

***

Three days had passed.

Three days that I had stayed in my house for my daily workout.

Three days that my phone had been buzzing with messages from Derek asking where I was.

Because three nights before I had decided to avoid Derek at all costs.

The only way to leave it all behind is if you don't associate yourself with anyone. That way you won't feel any remorse or pain once you disappear. One time when I left was when I was approximately six or seven years old, and I had to say goodbye to Allison since we were sharing a room at that time. The second time was when I had to leave Josie. After that, I started familiarizing myself with the feeling of loneliness.  It wasn't that bad once you remembered the fact that you would always see your parents when you got home, and everything would be better. Although, these days I had housed Isaac in my house, rare was the occasion that we interacted other than doing homework. Isaac would come home late in the night and quickly went to sleep. But, he stayed in my spare room for two nights and told me he had found a place to stay. He left thanking me for my hospitality.

When I finished my workout, I ran upstairs and took a shower. I changed from my stinky workout clothes to a plain white shirt and black jeans, obviously paired with my leather jacket. Once dressed I went downstairs and grabbed some cash to buy myself a muffin and a big coffee. Finally, I found the keys to my beautiful matte black Harley Fat Bob. My father had gotten me this motorcycle about two years back when he noticed I just kept crashing cars. The only thing I never crashed was his motorcycle and because he was worried I would, he bought me my own. I tend to wreck a lot of stuff. It's not intentional, I'm just clumsy at times.

I opened the door to the garage and noticed it sitting in a corner covered by a blanket. Once I took it off, I smiled. I passed my hand over the beautiful color, the smooth surface, the cold metal. It all felt familiar. A part of me. I grabbed my helmet and got on it. Once I sat my body felt relaxed, at ease. A spark of adrenaline was shot through my body when the engine came to life.

I backed up from the garage and went to the local café store. While waiting to pick up my order I noticed Derek walking in with his jogging clothes on. He still hasn't noticed me, too busy looking at the menu. When my name was called, he looked at me and called my name, but I ran out of the café with my order ignoring him.

When I got to the school everyone was staring at me. The new chick was now badass. I walked in with my backpack slung over my shoulder easing towards my locker.

"Hey there, gorgeous." I closed the locker door to see Jackson standing next to me. I rolled my eyes.

"Hi, Jackson. What do you want?"

"I was just wondering when you were free."

"Oh, well from tomorrow to never gonna happen. Get down from the cloud, buddy."

"Oh, come on, we both know you want some of this." He motioned over his body.

"Get over yourself." I scoffed.

"Babe, it doesn't hurt to try."

"I believe she's not interested, Jackson." A strawberry blonde girl appeared. Her confidence struck me like lightning, a very apparent aura of dominance radiating from within her.

"Why don't you mind your own business, Lydia. I'm talking to her, not you. You've already ruined everything else."

"Well, I think she has no business with you so why don't you scram?" With a huff and a puff, Jackson finally gave in and I turned to greet my hero, who was surprisingly accompanied by Allison.

"Thank you, so much. He wouldn't take no for an answer."

"No problem. I'm Lydia, but you knew that."

"(Y/N). Argent." She motioned between Allison and me. "Cousins."

"Pleasure." Then the bell rang. "Guess I have a new best friend, (Y/N)." You guessed wrong.

I entered Mr. Harris' classroom and sat down next to Isaac and as usual Mr. Chatty Pants tried to hold a conversation from the table behind us. Seriously, how much can someone talk? I took out my notebook and started writing down everything the teacher was saying is the homework on the board. Stiles had finally gotten the hint and didn't talk to me the whole class. That was a relief. Maybe it was due to the fact he was too focused on the strawberry blonde who had saved my ass from Jackson.

The day went on quite smoothly except at lunch. It wasn't the same Erica that had fallen from the rock-climbing wall. She completely changed; a more confident walk, she was wearing makeup and tight-fitted clothing, and her hair was perfectly styled. She left the lunchroom after taking a bite off an apple seductively and Scott and Stiles followed, as did I. Curiosity had taken the best of me as to this overnight transformation.

She opened the front doors to the school and there he was. Derek Hale in his black Camaro with the biggest smirk on his face staring at Scott. When he directed his sight to me his smirk kind of fell but was brought up quickly. During that Erica had gotten inside the car and they left, together. I don't know why I was jealous because he meant nothing to me, but it broke my heart. I got nervous. I think Scott noticed because he looked at me worried.

"Are you okay, (Y/N)?" I nodded rapidly and out of breath. I had no idea what was happening.

"I think you're having a panic attack." Stiles pointed out handing me an inhaler.

"I used to have panic attacks, too." I inhaled a pump and my breathing seemed to normalize. "You okay now?"

"Yeah. Thanks." I handed him the inhaler.

"No, keep it. I don't need it anymore." I said a low thanks and walked back to school to head to my next class.

I felt extremely weird the rest of the day. Why did I feel that way when I saw Erica and Derek together? It wasn't like anything was going on between us. Also, he's far too old for me. Or maybe I'm too young. I don't know. But I couldn't shake off that sour taste of jealousy that the image of them left.

I knew I wanted to stay as far away as I could from hin but at this moment there was nothing more that I wanted than to be close to him.

Tag: @lokisgoddesofpower

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A/N: Please check out my last post about the fandoms I’ll be writing for. 

[xreaderbooks]

Hidden (2)

Pair: Draco Malfoy x reader, Sibling! Harry Potter x reader

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: Language, (unedited asf)

Summary: Draco has to prove his love for her, while Y/N deals with the effects of the breakup. 

A/N: I am so sorry this took so long, y’all have been waiting a while for this one. Anyway kinda rushed to finish. Send me any requests for Draco or any of the character you see on my master list, I hope you enjoy :)

Masterlist - Part 1

"Prove it." Those words you spoke ran through Dracos head every time he saw you in the hall laughing with your friends, every time he had a class with you, every time he passed by the room of requirements. He lied awake on his bed each night missing your touch. Normally that would be the case considering the secrecy of your relationship but at least before he had memories of whatever lingered from the hours prior to when he was alone. He at least had that to hold on to. Now, thanks to what he admits are his cowardice-- he has nothing. He's alone without the one thing, the one person that made his miserable life mean something; you.

You weren't getting along any better. You tried to put up a front, knowing that you'd concern your friends and your brother. They obviously didn't know what was going on and they would be confused why your mood suddenly changed from blissfully happy to down and depressed. So you go on with your life as it would have been before your breakup with Draco or even before you had even gotten together with him in the first place. Cedric has been a big help in keeping your mind off of the platinum blond-haired boy, a good buddy is what you liked to call him when Harry asks what goes on between you and Cedric. At times you wish you would've liked Cedric as he liked you. Unfortunately, dark, brooding, and emotionally unavailable is your type.

A hand on your shoulder brought you back into reality, you forgot you were with Cedric sitting by the black lake. "Thinking about him again?" He asked.

"No." You lied, even though you knew that he knew you by now and that you most likely were thinking about Draco. He doesn't know that guy you were thinking about was Draco, he never pried. It's not like you're like this all the time either but the rare times you were, you would zone out, replaying certain memories when they came up with what you would be doing at the time.

"It's okay if you were."

"I wasn't."

"Alright, Alright, Whatever you say." He puts his hands up in surrender. You playfully shoved him.

"We should go back anyway, I have potions in 30 and it's a long walk." You motioned your hand so that he would follow you.

"Have you ever thought that maybe if you put a little pep in your step, you'd get to class faster?"

You shot him a glare. "First of all it's freezing, Snape is lucky I'm even showing up to his class at all instead of cuddled up in my bed with my warm blankets. Second of all if I put a 'pep in my step' I'll be out of breath." He chuckled.

"A bit of exercise could help with shortness of breath when walking y'know."

"How dare you suggest such an activity around me!" You stopped in your tracks putting a hand to your chest. "The word exercise personally offends me, sir."

Cedric stutters out an apology while laughing. "I-I am sorry Y/N, I promise not to mention your lack of physical fitness."

"That would be greatly appreciated." You let out a 'hmph' sound as you turned your back on him, continuing your trek to class.

~~~

A full day of classes had you exhausted and prepared to drop on your bed. You fought your eyes from closing as you walked back to your dorm. You hadn't even noticed you were bumped into someone while walking until you heard them shout, "Watch where your-" He paused noticing it was you.

'Fuck' you groaned internally. In your tired state, you forgot to go the other, longer way back to your dorm. It was a new system you set for yourself, instead of going the way you and Draco would usually walk through to get a glimpse of each other throughout the days you were together, you now walked the halls you knew he never liked to go through because of how it would be packed by students rushing to get to class.

You rolled your eyes at his attitude, you knew it wasn't meant for you. He gave you a once-over. You stuttered a quick apology moving away from him. He grabbed your wrist, you glanced at where he held his grip and to his eyes.

"Sorry." He muttered. "Can we talk?"

As much as you wanted to talk to him, you weren't mentally or emotionally prepared for this conversation. Your mind was racing with the different things he would say. Did he find someone else? Does he want to get back together and actually try? Or revert back to your old ways of sneaking around?

"I-"

"It doesn't have to be right at this moment." He leaned in to whisper in your ear. "How 'bout our usual time and place?"

"Fine." You yanked your wrist back from his grip and walked away from him.

~~~

Several hours later, you found yourself in front of the room of requirements, shaking your head you stepped inside.

"Alright, I'm here now what do you want?"

"You."

"You know I'm not yours anymore."

"Y/N you were always mine, let's stop this ridiculousness and go back to how we were before." He took a step towards you, you stepped back. You wanted to keep your distance, you didn't know how much restraint you had to keep yourself away from him. You knew being too close would lead you into his trap. He'd kiss you and tell you sweet nothings and you would believe them.

"I don't want to go back to the ways it was before!" You yelled, there were tears burning in your eyes. "You know what I want and if you can't give me that then we can't be together!"

"Y/N I can't do this without you-"

"Do what, Draco?" You wiped the stray tears that fell out.

"Live, I don't know how to live without you. Eating is a chore, sleeping knowing you're not in my arms is unbearable, in fact, I haven't slept since we broke up." You could see his eyes line with water. You willed yourself to not give in. You deserved a person who isn't afraid to love you in the open.

"I haven't either..." You allowed yourself to admit to him, then straightened yourself, your moment of weakness gone. "But it doesn't matter we can get past this and learn to live without each other."

"I can't, I won't."

"Then you know what you need to do," With that, you left.

~~~

The next day he approached your brother during lunch and asked to speak with him. You were nervous, this wasn't exactly how you thought the big reveal was going to go. But when Harry came back he didn't look angry but confused and suspicious.

"What was that about?" Hermione asked. You glanced back and forth between Draco over at the Slytherin table and Harry who was now, sitting back in his seat in front of you.

"He apologized for everything." Harry's brows furrowed.

"Shouldn't that be a good thing?" You questioned. Hermione shook her head 'no'

"He always has some other agenda." She wasn't entirely wrong. Maybe this was his way of trying, but he's mistaken if he thinks that just apologizing to Harry will have you running back. He would have to try harder, you would help him out a little bit by gaining Harry and the rest of the group's favor, as much as you could.

"Maybe he's trying to change."

Harry's eyebrows furrowed, "That's what he said, he told me that he wanted to change and do better and apologized for everything he's done since our first year. Malfoy even gave me the answers to the History of Magic exam next class."

"Where'd he get those?" Ron asked with a mouthful of food. Hermione rolled her eyes, "It doesn't matter cause he's not going to use them. Right, Harry?" He shrugged.

"I might, I'm not exactly passing that class 'mione." She gave him a disapproving look and snatched the piece of parchment from his hand. "I could've helped you study, besides how do you know this isn't some sort of joke?"

"Does it matter? Pass it over, I need to get an outstanding before McGonagall writes a letter to Mum about my notes. I am not doing well this year." Ron answered.

"How about this, you use the answers that he gave you and if you pass then he really is trying to get better and if you fail he's just being a prick, yeah?" You suggested, you were sure that this was his attempt (one of many, you hoped) to get you back with him. If it was, then he was playing smart. Getting on your brother's good side first was a good idea.

In the days that passed, You, Harry, and the others were waiting for the results Malfoy continued to do good deeds for your group which made everyone suspicious. Even sending you flowers during days where when the mail came in with love notes. It was nice but those were secret, just for you and him although everyone knew you were being courted nobody knew by who. And when Harry and Ron had gotten their results back from Professor Binns, they passed. Hermione wasn't too thrilled about being wrong, Ron wanted to celebrate at the next Hogsmeade trip which was tomorrow. You all decided that you'd get butterbeer at the three broomsticks and would talk over what to do with Malfoy now that he's no longer bullying them.

When everyone went to bed, you found yourself using your dad's invisibility cloak to sneak off to the room of requirements. You were surprised to find Draco laying on the couch that always appeared, with his eyes closed. He looked peaceful and beautiful, his platinum blond hair standing out in the darkness of the room. His perfectly sculpted face, and oh how you missed kissing him on his soft lips.

"Starings at a person while they're sleeping is a bit odd, don't you think?" He sat up, you were startled by his voice and jumped.

"You're not sleeping anymore." You sat on the empty spot next to him. "Thanks for the answers, by the way, they were thrilled."

"Stole them from a Ravenclaw, they didn't seem to have use for them." You snorted at his reply of course he would. "What'd you think about the flowers?"

"My room now looks like a florist's shop by they were beautiful, thank you."

"I have to start somewhere." He shrugged. You had a small smile on your face, these were the things that you missed, what you loved about him and yes it was the bare minimum of effort but it used to be a lot more when you were together. People don't see this side of him, how he could be improper and make jokes that aren't all snide remarks at people. He's kind and sweet and considerate of the people he cares about. Your smile turned into a frown when you remembered why you broke up in the first place. He was considerate and cared about you but not enough to be with you in public and not care about what others say.

"I fucked it up but I'm going to try Y/N, It'll be a new start for us, I promise." He slowly eased his hand into your own, as if questioning if it was alright. And for the moment, it was.

You didn't notice that you had fallen asleep on the couch with Draco when you woke up. His arm underneath supporting your head, one of your arms were tucked into you while the other was wrapped around his waist. You took note of the position you were in and scolded yourself mentally. This was definitely not keeping your distance. Gladly this was the only thing that happened last night. You sneakily removed yourself from to so you wouldn't wake him up, picking up the invisibility cloak that laid on the ground and ran back to the common room, praying absence wasn't noticed. It was about 10 o'clock in the morning, you could tell by the sun shining and the number of students who were buzzing about the halls.

Harry, Hermione, and Ron weren't in the common room when you entered through the portrait hole after a fellow Gryffindor.  You let out a sigh of relief when you made it to your dorm, uncovering yourself from the cloak. You quickly got dressed in normal clothes for the day. By the time you went down, the others were sitting around chatting.

"Finally!" Ron exclaimed, "Now can we go?"

"Yes, Ronald." Hermione dragged Ron away. "So dramatic, we were only out here for 10 minutes."

Your trek to the small town of Hogsmeade was uneventful. You went to a couple of stores before finally sitting down at a table by the stairs at the three broomsticks. Ron and Harry went to go get drinks leaving you and Hermione at the table alone.

"Where were you last night?" She blurted out. You choked on your spit, you didn't expect that.

"What do you mean?" You asked after your coughing fit. She gave you a look that said 'seriously.

"I woke up in the middle of the night you were gone, when I woke up to wake the boys you still weren't there, and then all of a sudden you come down from girl's dorm as if you were there the entire time." She folded her arms across her chest, one eyebrow arched in the way she always did when she made a point. "I guess the question isn't where you were but who were you with?"

You knew your shock was giving you away and you tried to compose yourself, luckily the boys returned with the drinks. You took one out of Ron's hand and took a sip.

"That was mine but whatever I guess." He sat down next to Hermione. "Alright so when are we gonna talk about the new Malfoy?"

"We were having a good day without having to bring him up, Ron." Harry groaned.

"Well, your days gonna get a whole lot worse because he just walked in." Ron nodded his head toward the entrance. You sunk into your seat putting a hand over your face in hopes that he wouldn't see you.

Just as fate would have it he saw your brother and friends and came over to your table. "Good afternoon Weasley, Granger, Potters."

You all replied with awkward greetings, they were all obviously confused as to why he would come up to you guys and not immediately throw insults.

"I was wondering if I could have a word with Y/N?" He asked politely. Your eyes narrowed 'Oh fuck no'. You felt all their eyes shift to you, Hermiones especially a glint in her eye telling you that she knew the answer to her own question.

Just as you were about to answer, Harry interjected with a no, "Whatever you need to talk to her about you could say it in front of us. Your eyes widened, 'Merlin this day truly couldn't get worse'.

"Very well then, Potter would you allow me to take your sister out on a date?" You almost spit out your drink and slightly coughed when you swallowed. You looked between Harry's angry face and Dracos amused one. You assumed Harry was too shocked to respond, your nerves were all over the place waiting for him to say something.

"No." He said simply. Draco clenched his jaw while yours dropped at your brother's bluntness, Ron looked shocked and burst out laughing and Hermione was just sitting there watching this scene unfold. No seemed to be the answer of the day.

You shook your head. "So what I don't get a say?"

"I mean-" Draco attempted to respond but Harry cut him off.

"That's why you've been so nice recently, this was all some sort of plot to get to my sister, use her to get to me?" Harry stood up so he was face to face with Draco. "Listen here Malfoy, you can mess with me, try to humiliate me, get me into all sorts of trouble but the minute you bring my sister into this-"

"Harry calm down." You saw his wand peeking out through the sleeve of his hoodie.

"I can assure you this isn't some plot to get to you, I've fancied your sister for quite some time now." His eyes flickered between you and your brother. "I decided it was time I acted on it."

"Is he the guy that's been sending you flowers?" You pursed your lips debating on whether to answer or not, it seems like Draco was feeling bold today so he confessed that he was.

"I thought you were dating Cedric?" Ron interrupted, Draco rolled his eyes and Hermione smacked him over the head. "Of course not idiot!"

You chuckled, "No he's just a good friend."

"The timing just doesn't make sense." Harry tried to reason, "Malfoys never showed interest before and he's an arsehole." He spoke as if he wasn't standing right in front of him.

"He's a lot sweeter than you think!" you defended him.

"How would you know?"

"Because we were dating before!" Draco lost his patience. He was going to ask you out in front of Harry in hopes he'd say yes and ease him into the idea of being in a relationship with him. But at this point, with what happened last night he couldn't restrain himself from you anymore.

Hermione gasped. It appeared the whole Three broomsticks was quiet at the outburst. "I'm tired of hiding it. And I lost her because. I wanted to keep our relationship hidden so I've been trying to win back her affections. I can't deal with this anymore, Y/N you know this, You know how much I love you and you're right. Our love can't be hidden, not one like ours, so pure and powerful. It was wrong of me to hold us back because I was scared. I'm not anymore, clearly, please," He knelt down on one knee, something you never ever thought he would do in front of all these people. The most vulnerable part of him coming out. "tell me you still love me and you will take me back."

"Of course, I will." You brought him back up, grabbing his face and kissing him. Cheers were heard all around you. This was all you wanted.

Tags: @thescarletknight2014​ - @with-my-soul-and-heart​ - @idkatee​

[girlmeetsliv3]

Prince of Nothing IV

~ Part Four of Five ~

Release Date: December 19,2020 @ 12 p.m. (GMT-4)

Word Count: 18K

Jeon Jungkook was the prince of everything except for you…

Jeon Jungkook was the prince of everything: heaven, hell, and everything in between. His family was an enigma who came to power under mysterious circumstances and had managed to retain hold over the kingdom for centuries - even if no one knew how. There was one thing that Jungkook wanted though, something that could never be his: you. A nobody. A girl with no title. No land. Just money and a pure soul to your name. Jeon Jungkook would’ve never spared a look your way, had that incident not occurred. Now you find yourself the target of his affection and the most hated woman in all the land. Which will kill you first?

Trigger Warning: The following story contains mentions of manipulation, abuse, and vivid, as well as implied, descriptions of abusive acts. The behavior and mindset of the characters in this will be incredibly yandere and toxic. This is a work of fiction and doesn’t represent the character of bangtan sonyeondan. Enjoy ~~~

“No.”

           YN’s eyes widen in shock before she tries to cover it up. “No?” What do you mean no? YN was so certain that Jungkook wouldn’t hesitate to jump at the chance - proving her point.

           Jungkook’s hands trailed up the side of her body, fingers gently dancing across her torso until they reached her neck where they settled on either side of her neck. The tense skin was massaged with such efficacy that YN couldn’t help the way her eyes rolled back. He observed this reaction with a smile on his face, then tentatively his lips brushed hers. From where his hands were placed, he could feel the racing of her heart. He could feel how the blood rushed through the veins - his blood, what little of it she had swallowed making its way home. Their kiss, if it could count as that, lasted only a few moments. Yet it was enough for Jungkook.

           “No, I won’t sleep with you.”

           In a second all hope leaves YN, if she couldn’t distract Jungkook with sex if it wasn’t truly all he wanted then what? Seeing her downtrodden expression Jungkook chuckled then he pulled YN in closer, hands sliding down towards the back of her dress. “I won’t sleep with you darling, but I will make love to you and fuck you if that’s what you want.” Before his words could even sink in, Jungkook used his strength to rip her dress open. Exposing all but her chest which lay pressed against the prince’s.

           “Your wager?” YN asked again, unwilling to let him have the upper hand. Not when so much was on the line.

           Jungkook chuckled, “Oh darling, how you never fail to amaze me.” Seeing her stone cold expression he acquiesced. “If I win you’ll be the mother of my child.” Aware of what would follow, Jungkook crashed his lips onto YN’s soft plump ones, not giving her a chance to change her opinion. What followed suit would cement their unspoken future and cause great suffering to many.

           “The prince?” Soojin’s lips were puckered, chin wrinkling in the way a child’s might when tasting something sour. The maids around her stood perfectly still barely breathing, they were too familiar with the expression on the princess’ face. Having been by her side for longer than she could remember they could recognize the pouty lips, furrowed brows, hooded eyes, and the pulsing vein in her temple. It signified a tantrum was incoming - surely to be the worst they had suffered as of yet. “Well?!” Soojin’s voice raised almost into a shrill. The typically refined Soojin had lost all of her demeanor in the past couple of days. Though the bruising around her neck had faded, the one around her heart had not and the ugly scarring it would leave was sure to affect not only her but everyone around her.

           Finally one of the maids stepped forward, bowing deeply demonstrating her submissiveness to the lioness in front of her. As if that ever spared prey from being eaten. “My apologies, my lady. The prince is still not out.”

           The scream that tore out of Soojin was guttural in nature, More like a growl than anything else. Though the tantrum lasted quite a while very few of the staff were harmed, and at that very minimally, the same could not be said for the princess’ chambers which were left in such shambles the entirety of the furniture had to be discarded. Yet it was not the thousands of dollars lost, nor the raging Seo striding down the hall that was to be a concern but rather her destination: the prince’s chambers - YN YLN inside them.

           Nothing spreads quicker than gossip in the palace and no one moves faster than the help, so Soojin wasn’t surprised to arrive at Jungkook’s door and see the usually present guards absent. They too would’ve been informed she was heading there and likely wanted to avoid facing the lionesses wrath. The heavy african blackwood doors had the Jeon sigils engrained in it - making it obvious who resided inside. Normally it would’ve taken a lot of effort to even open the door, it took two extremely muscular men to open it. Though in her rage, it only took a slight push from Soojin for them to slam open.

           Soojin expected a lot upon entering: to find her lover and his mistress entangled in the sheets putting on a show for anyone. Clothes scattered all around, champagne bottles, and wicked smiles placed on both their faces to taunt her. Instead the room was pristinely clean, bed made, and Jungkook was buttoning his shirt. “Can I help you with anything?” He asked, voice with a hint of roughness to it. They way it typically did after he had sex. The only thing that gave away his infidelity was the unkemptness of his hair and the slightest hint of a bruise around his neck. Soojin scoffs, incredulously that he would do this to her after everything - after all his promises.

           “Four days...I haven’t seen you in four fucking days!” Soojin no longer cared for maintaining appearances in front of Jungkook. Clearly he held no care for them.

           Jungkook sighed, leaning on the bed to put on his boots and tie them. “Frankly I don’t see what you’re so upset about. What I do with my lover has nothing to do with you.”

           “Your lover,” Soojin couldn’t help the sardonic smile that broke out on her face. “Have you no shame?! Parading your whore around in front of everyone while I look like a fool.”

           “You looking like a fool has nothing to do with me.” He chuckled, the vase Soojin threw his way was easily caught by Jungkook. The prince gently placed it beside him on the soft bed.

           Soojin’s chest began to rise and fall rapidly, she could feel the rage growing inside her. If Jungkook was ice then she was fire. It was just like when she was younger - the fire would grow and spread consuming everything that stood in its path. In this instance, an insolent little girl who sought herself better than a princess queen. “I won’t be held responsible for the consequences that befall YN due to your reckless actions.” At that the prince stilled, the air in the room suddenly becoming frigid as goosebumps rose on Soojin’s skin.

           “And I won’t be held responsible for the consequences that befall you if anything were to happen to YN.”

             “So you see your majesty, it would be reckless to allow this liaison to continue. Though I understand the prince has needs and would never dare interfere in his private affairs, this isn’t just about him. It’s about the needs of the crown.” Soojin despised king Jeon the II, she found the old man unnerving. Everytime his coal black eyes met hers, she felt the king saw through every facade and deep inside her soul. She assumed that is what had allowed him to maintain power even when his commanders, alliances, and sanity slipped his hands. Jeon exuded power, but his was strong and sturdy like a stone. His son’s power though was like water: constant, changing, tranquil, and tempestuous. Even hard stone was no match for the power of the sea. Everyone was aware of it, even the king in his fleeting reason, knew the time for a shift was rapidly approaching. Soojin couldn’t wait to get rid of the old haggard. To get rid of his lingering glances. Still she knew when to play her cards right, the only person to force Jungkook to submit would be his dear old dad.

           “You are right my child. Jungkook is far too reckless to take a Kim for a whore. It's enough that I allow one Kim to remain in my court - but two and the people may believe I am beginning to slip.” His voice was harsh, the laugh sounding more like a croak. The kind an old toad might make.

Soojin had to resist the urge to grimace, “Nonsense your majesty. No one would ever believe that. Everyone is aware that your reign is far from its end.” Which is exactly why once YN was out of her way, Soojin would make sure to get rid of him. She could hardly be queen if her husband wasn’t on the throne. The king may be the head, but everyone knows the queen is the neck.

           “Oh my darling, I am well aware that you have always been on the side of the crown unlike many others that would use it for their own interests. Not to worry, I will make my son see reason. If he doesn’t well -”

           “I am sure he will sire. Jungkook cares for you very much and he would never disobey his father.” Soojin wondered how much venom she could spill into the world before she eventually poisoned herself. She consoled herself by remembering that she was surrounded by vipers ready to strike. No mamba can compare to the jaw of a lion. Unbeknownst to Seo Soojin, the Jeon’s were no ordinary snakes and unlike lions who massacred their preys before eating them snakes consumed their prey alive.

           “Very well.” King Jeon turned around waving over a guard, “Call my son, it is time we have a talk.” Before turning back to Soojin before him, “You are excused my child, take care of yourself.”

           “Of course your majesty, take care of yourself.”

           “Have you heard?”

           “It is the talk of the whole castle.”

           “Well do you think he’ll actually do it?”

           “He would be a fool not to, plus it isn’t like he has a choice.”

           “He’s the prince of the nation. Of course he has a choice.”

           “Not against the king he doesn’t.”

           Sana turned around, wet rag in her hand as she whipped it towards the two gossiping maids who screeched at the possibility of their garments being ruined by the dirty water. “What are the two of you yapping about?!” Sana had simply been trying to salvage what was left of YN’s garments that had been ripped to shreds by the prince. Not that it mattered, Jungkook would probably buy her even nicer dresses and it wasn’t like YN had asked her to. She had seemed so disgusted when she walked back into her rooms. Heading straight for the shower and barely even sparing Sana a glance. Not that she cared, the less she had to interact with the mistress, the better in Sana’s head. Still, appearances must be kept up for the sake of the prince. So she gritted her teeth and cheerfully declared that she would wash her clothes.

           “Wouldn’t you like to know Sana? Probably run back to your lady and tell her everything.” Irene sneered, smoothing down the front of her dress and fixing her strawberry blonde hair.

           “Please what good would that do me?” The bitch deserves everything that’s coming to her. YN had explained her side of the story to Sana long ago, but she saw through the innocent facade she played. Why would the prince ever be interested in a stupid commoner like her when he had every woman at his fingertips? No. She had seduced him, even if YN may never admit it. Sana knew she was a wolf in sheep's clothing - just like her.

           “Because without someone to report on, you’ll lose the prince’s favoritism. Or do you actually believe he cares for you?!” Irene laughed and the other maids around her began to laugh too. Sana rolled her eyes, returning to the soapy water in front of her.

           “I’m no fool. I use him just as he uses me.” But her tone wavered towards the end, which only caused others to chuckle beside her. It wasn’t until one of the girls beside her took pity and told her what was happening.

           “The prince and princess Soojin are to be wed in seven days' time.”

           YN had been pretty much left to her own devices after spending several days and nights locked up in Jungkook’s bedroom. YN wished she could say the whole experience had been unpleasant, but the disgust she felt was more towards herself than the prince. She had enjoyed it deeply - every single part of it - though she would never admit it to anyone. Not even herself. So YN bathed herself multiple times that day, scrubbing her skin until parts of it bled, then she nearly tore off her hair for every time she saw it all she could imagine was Jungkook’s hands tangled in it. Every time she viewed her hands, all she could remember was how they would entangle together. Her lips were dry and swollen from all the kissing and sucking the prince had imparted on them. YN had never felt more like a whore - never felt more like a toy. In a move that was meant to give her power over the prince, all she had done during their trysts was find herself thinking what if? What if we had met in another time? Different circumstances? Could I love him? Could he be different? What if he changed? Is he capable of change? Would I love him if he did?

           It was those thoughts that plagued YN deeply hours after she returned and she sat still in her bed. Vito curled resting on her decolletage as she envisioned a different world where Jungkook was kinder, where he hadn’t caused her so much pain. Where they had met the way one should. He would have met her brother, introduced himself and promised to care for her, Jungkook could have been perfect. YN found herself getting lost in that what if, until reality came tumbling through her door.

“I’ll fucking kill her!” The door to the bedroom had been slammed open so harshly, the entire room had shaken slightly. It had frightened Vito so much he raised defensively and even YN had been ripped away from her daydreams. Jungkook was livid pacing back and forth as Morte was coiled around his arm, perfectly still despite her master shaking violently. YN had only ever seen him like this once and even then, there hadn’t been a murderous gleam in his eyes. YN cautiously slipped down the bed, her bare feet landing on the carpet. The second she was on the ground, Jungkook swept her into his arms leaving barely any space among them. YN had no choice, but to push her palms against his chest trying to leave some space between them.

Jungkook’s arms tightened around her torso, as YN resisted, eventually Morte unwrapped herself from his arms and formed a link with Vito around both their necks. Tying them together in more ways then one. “Who are you going to kill?” YN knew, Sana had mentioned it when she had brought her clothes back up. YN hadn’t paid much attention, even in her dally she was aware the Jungkook of her dreams and the one in front of her were two distinct beings. Though a part of her longed for the other Jungkook - she wanted this one gone from her life. Jungkook leaned his head close to hers, their lips brushing and it took all of YN’s willpower not to grimace.

“My wife.”

“You can’t. You promised me you would marry her, you promised the king there’s no going back on your word.”

Jungkook chuckled, “I can’t very well marry a corpse can I? Plus, I already have a queen.”

YN shook her head, “You can’t get out of this. I only promised I’d carry your child, not that I would be your queen.”

“You don’t have a choice in this, my darling.” Jungkook smiled, his teeth snagging and softly pulling YN’s bottom one. In his eyes, YN could see the lust pooling and she found herself amazed at how quick his mood could shift.

“I would rather join my brother than wear the crown on my head.” YN whispered harshly, as her palms kept pushing against Jungkook’s torso.

“That’s funny considering your brother doesn’t have a head.” The prince’s cruel words cut straight through YN’s soul. Instantly she was brought back to the rain, her brother’s beaten body, the lifeless eyes that peered at her as his body hung from the gallows. “Oh didn’t you know. I had his head removed and stored in a box, it is my most prized possession. If it wasn’t for him, you and I would’ve never met.” All the fight left YN’s body instantly, if not for Jungkook’s arms around her, she would’ve crumbled to the ground. “I really should give him a proper burial as a thanks. Oh well, there isn’t really much left to bury anyway.” The king Jungkook faded from her memory, until all that remained was the cruel beast in front of her. He seemed to take glee in her soulless eyes for he kissed her with such frenzy that could only be imparted by the happiest of people. Meanwhile YN could feel herself fading, her last remnant of hope being extinguished.

After a while of no response the prince finally seemed to notice that state of his beloved. “YN?” His hands grabbed a hold of her cheeks and forced her to look at him, only she didn’t. Though their eyes met Jungkook knew that she wasn’t viewing him, her mind in a far away place. “YN.” His grip tightened on her, as he hoped the pain would cause any sort of reaction from her. Even if it meant she would recoil, scream, hit him, it was better than having her empty gaze pierce into him. “Answer me YN!” His fingers were digging deeply into her cheekbones, his nails leaving indents into her face. Jungkook knew he was hurting her, but he didn’t care. React damn it! Do something! Finally someone did. Vito uncoiled himself and struck Jungkook’s hand, digging his fangs deeply into the prince’s palm. It shocked him so much, he jumped away letting go of YN completely. YN fell to her feet and fell back onto the bed, she had yet to react but Vito had placed himself on his owner’s neck, hissing and ready to strike once more.

Jungkook was in such shock, he didn’t even consider the fact that the snake had attacked him. Didn’t even think about commanding Morte to reproach. Instead he cradled his hand and looked at YN in a mixture of shock and fear. The way a child would when they had just broken their favorite toy. “I-I’m -” but he couldn’t even bring himself to say the words. He wouldn’t mean them because he truly wasn’t sorry. Jungkook only regretted having gone too far and hurting YN in a way which might be irreparable. Instead of attempting to make amends, Jungkook took a deep breath and turned around leaving YN truly alone for the first time since they’d crossed paths. As he closed the bedroom doors, he waved the guards away stating the “lady needed some time alone to herself.” Certain that when he returned in the morning, YN would be back to her usual self. She had to be.

The sun would set and rise three times before YN spoke again.

On the dawn of Wednesday morning, Sana knocked on the bedroom door bringing with her a plate of food which would be left uneaten like the others before. She didn’t know what exactly had caused her mistress to regress to such a state, but figured the news of the wedding must have done so. Her heart filled with bitter jealousy at the thought, but she coaxed another perfect smile on her face. “My lady, pardon the intrusion but I have brought you food and news from the crown.” YN didn’t really acknowledge Sana’s presence, only Vito seemed to be aware of her. His red beady eyes glaring at her as his tongue sniffed the air, as if entirely sentient the snake moved its head towards the bedside table. Tentatively Sana placed the platter there before, smoothing over the front of her dress.

“The King has requested an audience in private with you, my lady.” Sana glanced over, YN had been bathed and dressed every day at the prince’s insistence much to the maid’s annoyance. Particularly because YN didn’t seem to react no matter what she was subjected to: on various occasions Sana had ‘accidentally’ placed the water too hot only to make it too cold in an attempt to find warmth. She had tugged her hair too harshly, pinched her skin whilst dressing her, and even stepped on her. Yet YN had not so much as flinched, the woman finding herself in a deep dissociative state. The only indication of reasoning Sana could see was Vito that in the past couple of days had become far more active. Hissing and bearing his fangs everytime Sana imposed any type of miniscule harm on his owner.

She must be a witch. Probably enchanted the prince as well. Sana casts a glance towards the book laying upon the vanity: the black and red book taunting her. Perhaps the book offered some insight into her, Sana had never seen such a book in her life but it looked too opulent to begin to someone as poor as YN. It could be a gift from the prince. That only infuriated her more, all Sana ever received was pats on the back and harsh love making only to be tossed aside the second he had satisfied himself.

“We must get you ready, my lady. The king must not be kept waiting.”

YN had only entered the throne room on two other instances, both signifying further entrapment, but they had been at the hands of Jungkook and Soojin. Perhaps this would go differently, though something deep inside warned her that this meeting with King Jeon wasn’t a cause for celebration. Not when he had been plotting on murdering his son and accusing her. Not when she was technically his son’s mistress and the cause of all the turmoil in court. When she entered, the King laid sitting on his throne. It stood out harshly compared to the rest of the room, being made from a rare gemstone that seemed to absorb all the light in the room. The crown perched upon his head was dark in nature too, making it all too obvious that he was the dominant one in this conversation.

“Welcome, I’ve heard a lot about you Kim YN.” King Jeon stared down at the girl before him, trying to assess who she was, what she wanted, and how he could best use her to his needs.

Bowing deeply YN spoke, her voice soft yet clear. “You summoned me, your majesty?” There was a slight tremble in her hands she tried to hide by gripping her skirt tightly.

“Ah I did. There is something I wished to speak to you about.” The King waved his hand, indicating she could rise and YN did, slowly, as to demonstrate she was no threat.

“Yes sire?” If speaking to the prince was like walking on eggshells, then speaking to Jeon was walking on the edge of an active volcano. One which could go off at any second.

“I want you to murder my son.” The King’s voice was clear, no stutter whatsoever as if he were commenting on the weather and not the assassination of his own kin.

YN struggled to speak, unsure of how to react. She was a cornered prey, with no possible way of escape. “I-I’m sorry your majesty. I d-don’t understand.” YN couldn’t bear to meet his eyes, all the stories she’d heard as a child coming back to her. How the King was cold and callous but his eyes were even colder. Dark black pools that would make the devil shiver, yet so clear they reflected whoever he was staring at - reflected their true intentions.

“Look at me Kim.”

YN obeyed, but he was too far away for her to make out the exact color of his eyes. Even then, it was quite difficult to see with the tears threatening to spill.

“You know what you must do, yes? Or what the consequences will be…”

As YN stared at him, all she could see was a cruel man that would do anything to remain in power, even spill the blood of his own son. The apple never falls far from the tree. The King’s hand tightened around the seat and YN was certain that in the next few moments he would force her to agree to     something she could never envision herself doing. Even if he was the object of her loathing and tormentor - YN could never kill Jungkook. She had to cling to the last bit of her soul that still remained.

Please someone save me.

A harsh knock was heard and the doors opened to Kim Namjoon. “Pardon the intrusion, your highness. You asked me to inform you if anything happened in the outer lands.” YN almost cried tears of joy upon being interrupted, it could have even been Jungkook and she would’ve thanked him. “Ah yes, you’re dismissed.” The King waved her away as of nothing and YN couldn’t be more glad to have his eyes off her. She bowed deeply once more before hurrying out the door, managing not to break down until the doors behind her were entirely closed.

YN didn’t know how long she spent there sat on the floor as tears streamed down her face. It wasn’t until the door creaked open once more that she wiped her face and stood up rapidly. In her haste, she stumbled somewhat but was steadied by a hand grabbing hers. “Pardon my lady.” Namjoon’s smile was soft, reassuring and YN couldn’t help reciprocating it. “Nonsense, my lord.”

           Namjoon’s other hand came to lay upon hers, encapsulating hers in a warmth YN hadn’t felt in a long time. “Have you had time to read the novel?” His brow raised inquisitively.

           “I must admit I haven’t. Things have been busy as of late.”

           His chestnut eyes were warm, “I can relate. The castle has been in such a hectic state the gardens have been left unattended.”

           Now YN was left to be confused, “Pardon?”

           Namjoon looked around as if to ensure no one was listening in, he looked so childlike at that moment YN couldn’t help but giggle. “Well, they’ve not taken care of their blossoming flower.”

           YN rolled her eyes though the smile, and the rosey dust that spread across her cheeks revealed her true feelings, “Do you have a tendency to be so brazen, my lord?”

           “Hm,” his fingers tapped gently on her hand. “Only when with an intriguing companion, my lady. Only then.”

           “I don’t see anyone like that around here.” YN stated as she casted a glance around, in the corner of her eye she caught sight of a figure lingering behind a column but they quickly vanished.

           “You must give yourself more credit my lady. Though you are right, you aren’t intriguing as of yet only queer.” It was the shift in his tone that brought YN’s attention back towards him.

           “Oh? When shall I be intriguing then?” She tilted her head coyly.

           “After you blossom of course.”  Namjoon seemed so serious, all humour vanishing from his tone. “Though whether you will be a lily or an ivy has yet to be determined.”

           “It is entirely possible I will be both.”

           “Ah, that is true.”

           The two of them simply stared at each other, before distant voices could be heard echoing through the halls. Namjoon raised her palm towards his lips, placing a tender kiss. “Excuse me, my lady. I must be going.” YN nodded before allowing Lord Kim to walk away as his words and warmth lingered with her far into the night.

           “What’s this?” Jungkook looked at the large book in Sana’s chipped hands, he never understood why she manicured them considering they would only get ruined. Still it was better than the old weathered hands most maids had, hers were soft yet bony. They lacked the thinness yet sharpness of Soojin’s but didn’t possess the roundness and frailty of YN’s. “It is lady YN’s.” Sana hated attaching the prefix. It put YN above her, yet the last time she hadn’t the prince had severely punished her. It was as Jungkook’s hands traced the letters in the front cover that he identified what was written: The Golden Ones. A sinister smile spread across his lips, perhaps I should give YN more credit. “And how exactly did lady YN come to possess such a book?” His mouth twisted, full of mirth. It was the exact same as Jungkook’s copy. Ironic that he had spent his entire life searching for it only to have been right under his nose the whole time. Perhaps assigning Sana to be a double-agent hadn’t been such a waste of time after all.

           “Lord Kim Namjoon gave it to her as a present.”

           “Did he?!” Jungkook tried to hide his disdain, though the imprint of his fingerprints was left on the wood of his desk from gripping it too harshly. Placating his growing vexation, the prince smiled. “Very well Sana. You’ve done well.” The pat he placed on her head was patronizing - it was meant to be. People like Sana only obeyed if they thought it would prove how useful they were. So long as Jungkook fed her scraps of affection and not a full course meal, she would keep coming back. “Is that all?” She asked, before quickly following it up with. “Have I not satisfied you, your highness?”

Jungkook nodded, “Oh yes. But a story book is hardly evidence.” He let his fingers tap against the wood rhythmically as if in deep thought. “I need something concrete that proves your theory.”

Sana’s smile was forced, but she nodded and bowed nonetheless head touching the ground. “Of course, I shall deliver you concrete evidence of lady YN’s betrayal.”

      “You’re being reckless Namjoon. There is no point in pursuing the girl.” Seokjin rested his head against the cherry desk. It was old yet prominent standing as the centerpiece in their strategy room. Namjoon casted a glance at the people beyond the manor walls, those rallying in clear protest against the Jeon’s and their rule. They remained both aware and unaware of his existence. Even if they were to peer at him directly, they wouldn’t be able to recognize him. Namjoon wasn’t entirely sure they could recognize Seokjin, and he was the entire face of their operation. “It would be reckless not to pursue the girl.” He refuted as he let the curtain fall back into its rightful place, walking towards Seokjin and massaging the back of his neck. Seokjin groaned, swatting Namjoon’s attempts to distract him away. This was not a matter Seokjin would simply be dissuaded on.

“There must be a reason why Jeon is so willing to risk everything for her.”

Seokjin laughed incredulously, “When has madness ever made sense?” Seokjin simply couldn’t see what the big deal was. “She is nothing but a poor child that got caught up with the Jeon’s. She’ll probably be made to bear an heir and be tossed aside like all the Jeon women are.”

Namjoon shook his head, “No, Jin. It isn’t like that. She isn’t a pawn, Jungkook is planning on making her his queen. A king is nothing without a powerful queen.” Everyone knew it. It was the reason why the Jeon empire was failing. It was the reason why Seokjin’s claim to the throne didn’t stand a chance. As Namjoon’s father had always said: men are trees but women are seeds. If Namjoon was correct about YN, then she was the final piece needed to guarantee them a checkmate. If not, win the whole game.

Namjoon had to be smart though, for if the prince caught wind of his plan it would all be over.

On the evening of Thursday, just three days until the wedding between Prince Jeon Jungkook and Princess Seo Soojin, YN laid sleeping peacefully in her bed. It was a calm evening, barely a breeze could be felt in the night sky. It was also unnaturally warm, so much so Sana had suggested to her mistress, cracking the balcony doors and windows open. But YN politely refused, afraid something would crawl in or she would grow cold. Her sleep was pleasant, it was the first time in a long time YN was not plagued by nightmares filled with her brother’s lifeless body or Jungkook’s mental games created just to  torture her. She was resting comfortably, until a slight creak caused Vito beside her to rise from his slumber and hiss suddenly. When YN’s eyes shot open, she saw two masked figures staring at her.

Her screams were quickly muffled as a cloth was forced into her throat and her body was grabbed by the two men. YN struggled against them, limbs flailing in an attempt to land any sort of blow on them. Vito too sprang to her aid, but was grabbed and thrown against the head board. Unwillingly YN was lifted and dragged off the bed. She managed to wretch an arm free and attempted  to grab onto the sheets - onto Vito - but the snake was too far away and the men were far too strong. Capturing her in their grip once again, they managed to pull her into the bathroom where YN saw that bathtub full of water, finally understanding what was happening. YN fought like never before: kicking, scratching, she even managed to get the gag out of her mouth and began biting them. If the grunts of the men were anything to go by - and the harsh way one of them yanked her hair - she had inflicted some pain on them.

“Please! Help! Someone! He -” As if she weighed nothing, YN was grabbed and dumped into the ceramic tub. Her head knocked harshly against the back and YN felt something warm trailing down her head, as she gazed up dizzily. “Please, y-you d-don’t have t-to d-do t-this.” YN begged and pleaded, tried to reason with them but they wouldn’t listen. After everything she had endured, it couldn’t end like this. After all her suffering as a child, the loss of her parents, her brother, everything she ever held true. It couldn’t possibly end like this. I don’t want to die.

Strong arms grabbed a hold on her head, pushing it under the water. YN tried to hold her breath for as long as she could, trying to get her body to calm down so as to not consume more oxygen than necessary. Even then the seconds ticked on, YN could feel her chest begin to tighten the pressure beginning to mount the second she was about to breathe in water. YN was wretched out of the water, allowed to breathe only to be shoved in once again. With little air now, YN began to panic. Eyes anxiously looking around for anything to grasp onto. Anything that would serve as a life jacket - there was nothing. Her captors moved the moonlight now reflecting their golden armor.

YN was retched upwards one final time before being plunged back in, held down there longer. YN’s vision began to become blurry, chest tightening and lungs burning as her body forced her to breathe, only instead of air water rushed in. She was burning. She could feel herself burning from the inside out. Her mouth opened as she choked on the pain, only for more water to rush in. YN felt the last pounds of her heart as her senses faded, all her memories flashed before her eyes. The last was unfamiliar to her: a lily entangled by a snake its color changing from black to white. Vito? Eventually that faded too, as YN felt herself slipping into nothingness...slipping into death.

           Baekhyung’s hands disentangled from YN’s head as he lifted her hand from the water and checked her pulse. “She’s dead.” He stated, looking at the Seo guardsman. The man raised an eyebrow before checking for himself, seemingly content. “Thank you for your help. I’m sure your aunt will compensate you greatly.” Baekhyung rolled his eyes, “Didn’t do it for her. She’s simply an eyesore.” It wasn’t necessarily true, but with YN out of the way it would certainly facilitate things. The men walked out of the bathroom and then the door, not sparing a glance towards their surroundings. For if they had, they would have found the most peculiar sight, a bloated ball python struggling for its life, water droplets escaping its mouth. It took several minutes for the ball python to give up the fight. The second Vito took his last breath, YN took her first heaving, herself out of the water and breathing in air for the first time in twenty minutes.

           YN cast a glance toward the bed where her pet snake now laid dead, before pulling herself out of the bathtub and running straight for Jeon Jungkook’s room.

             YN’s knuckles rasped harshly on the blackwood of the prince’s bedroom door. When the prince didn’t answer the first time, her knocks became more incessant until YN was pounding so harshly the wood was beginning to bend under her force. She should have cared more about drawing attention to herself, but YN had just survived an assassination attempt and knew murderers didn’t linger long enough to be caught. Finally, the door creaked open, barely a sliver but enough that YN knew Jungkook was acknowledging her, inviting her in. A part of her hesitated, unsure whether this was all another elaborate scheme done by the sadistic prince in order to have her bend to him. No, this doesn’t seem like him. The Jeon’s weren’t fond of hiding in the shadows and hiring assassins. All of their ploys were done recklessly and with an audience. Since YN hadn’t stepped in, it seems Jungkook had decided to come out. He was still in his evening wear - his eyes took in YN’s disheveled appearance and a tear streamed face. He crossed his ankles together, leaning against the door frame.

           “To what do I owe the pleasure of having you come banging on my door at this late hour?” His dark eyes met hers, “Have you finally decided to speak to me or are you going to continue this ridiculous charade?” It isn’t until he noticed the blood on her head that worry crosses over his features, raising his hand to caress her.

           YN ignored him, instead choosing to answer a different question. “Yes.”  

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I’ll marry you.”

   Seo Soojin’s room, when cleaned up, was actually quite beautiful. The reds and velvets mixed nicely with the fine gold accents. Normally guests would be a cause for celebration, as very few visited Soojin these days. Soojin would have been elated to have the prince himself in her chambers any night - but not tonight. Tonight Soojin sat seated on her bed, hair laid over her shoulders in nice neat waves. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” She asked, voice hesitant as she looked around the room for anything that could serve as a weapon for Jungkook or herself. Jungkook stood in the center of the room, though he had never been in her room he held no interest in all the trinkets she had decided to adorn it with. That wasn’t why Jungkook had suddenly decided to visit, not after YN had barged into his own bedroom and clung onto him. Not after Jungkook had to persuade his beloved that she would be safe in his bed with Morte guarding her.

“Can’t a husband visit his wife in the middle of the night?”

“We are not yet wed.” Soojin was unsure of what game Jungkook was playing, her eyes sneakily stared at her door. She couldn’t see the shadow of her guard's feet.

“I would hardly think that matters when the ceremony is in a few days' time.”

Jungkook approached Soojin’s bed slowly, his footsteps careful and calculated each one of them measured to ensure the tamed lioness would see exactly where he was at any given time. As he reached the edge of her bed, Soojin leaned back to rest on the headboard allowing Jungkook to crawl onto the bed until the prince was mere inches from her. Soojin swallowed thickly, nerves eating her alive. “Plus you’ll get everything you have ever wanted…” His hand caressed Soojin’s cheek tenderly. “To be queen and bear my heir.” His soft touch turned harsh as he pulled her towards his lips. “I thought we’d get a head start.” With little hesitation their lips crashed against each other, full of hatred and passion.

In those moments of pure unadulterated lust, Soojin swore Jungkook had never looked more beautiful. His sweat caused his hair to curl towards the ends, framing his face perfectly. Despite how badly she clinged to him, his arms, his back, chest, legs, his every breath - Jungkook barely touches her. He kisses her, but it feels empty. Even when he finally does enter her, it lacked intimacy and felt robotic. The prince was harsh, demanding, and entirely selfish in his needs. Though Soojin did enjoy it thoroughly, it was clear to her that Jungkook was only searching for his own high rather than hers. Eventually the two reach their peaks, climaxing together as Jungkook fills Soojin to the brim.

Then as quickly and quietly as he arrived the prince untangled himself from Soojin. Redressing himself before leaving her room, not sparing the young princess a glance. Seo Soojin cried that night for the first time in years, memories of her youth plaguing her as she recalled the fateful day that set in motion the rest of her life.

 Thirteen year old Soojin was already a beauty to behold, even at such a young age. Despite being born a woman, she was exceptionally bright and cunning. Under different circumstances, she would’ve surely become a great inventor or even a great ruler. Sadly she was born a woman to a noble family who had long ago set their eyes on the prize of the land - a prize their only daughter could help them get. While Soojin had never met prince Jungkook, they had been engaged since she could remember. Having been raised with tales of the great Jeons and how Jungkook was the kindest and fairest prince in the land. Soojin could hardly contain her excitement at what her future might hold. The following week, she would embark to court and finally meet her beloved. Still, even at such a young age Soojin possessed little patience and great ambition. Seven days was far too long a wait.

“Come on Soojin, it is this way.” Kim Yoona yelled from far ahead, Soojin jumped over the rocks that were littered across the ravine, careful to watch her steps so as to not slip. They were deep in the forest, far from the watchful eyes of maids and guards, Soojin wasn’t afraid though. She knew the fate that would befall anyone who attempted to cause harm to a Seo. Much less the soon to be princess. Yoona had told her of a fortune teller that had apparently predicted the Jeons rise to power and the birth of the prince. She was notable throughout all the land and since hearing her tenacity for telling the future of those destined to be great, Soojin wanted hers read.

After crossing the water they trudged through more forest ground before finding a small clearing. The two girls abruptly stopped as they came face to face with an old cottage resembling something out of the fairy tales they'd read. “This must be it.” Soojin stated, marching forward once the shock wore off. There was nothing to be afraid of; she was certain of what her future would entail, she just needed the confirmation. Before Soojin could knock on the door, it was opened by a middle aged woman dressed in rags.

“Are you the witch?” Was the first thing out of Soojin’s mouth. She lay unimpressed as Yoona soon joined her side, stunned into silence.

“Are you the Seo girl?” The fortune-teller reproached, causing both young girls' eyes to widen, before the fortune-teller allowed them in. “It’s two hundred to have your fortunes read - each.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Yoona protested, but Soojin fisted the money out of her wallet before throwing it on the nearest table she found. “There, now tell me my future.”

“How about I tell you a story instead?”

Soojin rolled her eyes dramatically, “I don’t want a story. I want my future, tell it now.”

The fortune teller smiled, taking long steps before reaching a chair. She took her time sitting and making herself comfortable before finally turning towards Soojin. “Tell me child, have you ever seen a lion and snake play together?”

Soojin frowned, “What?”

“They are opposite beings in nature. Warm-blooded and cold-blooded. A union between them would never work.” The witch grabbed the pile of money and began to count it, “A lion takes several mates but always stays within his pride. A snake lives a solitary life, its only companions the flowers it lives alongside.”

“You’re making no sense!” Soojin’s hands balled into fists, as she began to raise her voice in frustration. “You’re speaking in riddles, talk clearly.”

“She means that the match won’t last.” Yoona, who had remained quiet until then, finally spoke up.

“That isn’t true!” Soojin screamed, head whipping back and forth between her friend and the witch. “Who will marry the prince if not me?! I am to be a queen. I will bear a son and become a Jeon. Our marriage will unite the kingdom and ensure prosperity for the kingdom.” The words were not her own, but those she had been raised hearing.

“Ah, a queen you will be and a son you will bear. A Jeon though is not a name that is given but granted. Read up on your history child, this union will only breed destruction.”

Soojin didn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe it. The witch was lying to her. She simply wanted to embarrass Soojin, that's why she was making up all those lies.

Yoona excitedly pounced on the opportunity, now that Soojin was out of the picture perhaps she had a shot. “If not her then who? Who will marry the prince?”

Soojin turns to glare at her supposed friend, furious at the hope that had filled the young Yoona now that she believed Soojin to be out of the picture.

The fortune-teller looked out the window at the trees that surrounded them, “This winter has been long, but spring will come again. When it does, the flowers are always the first to bloom.”

“Flowers?” Soojin asked, at the same time that her friend drew her conclusions.

“A Kim?! I’m a Kim. Does that mean I will marry the prince?” Yoona asked excitedly, unaware of the glare now being cast her way by Soojin. Poor Kim Yoona misunderstood, her family though they held the last name, held very little power and had only managed to amass their fortune through their loyalty to the Seo’s. Something the young child, unbeknownst to her, ruined that very afternoon. Still much like young Yoona, Soojin too did not know the difference between Kims - they were those who simply possessed the name while others who were blessed with it.  When they were walking back towards their homes and Yoona accidentally slipped on the rocks and dove head first into the ravine, Soojin couldn’t bring herself to care much. If fate wants her to be with the prince, then she will surely not drown. The princess thought as she walked away and headed home preparing for her upcoming trip.

           “This winter has been long but spring will come again. When it does, meet me where the flower’s bloom.” YN had awoken alone in her bed in the morning, surprised that neither Sana nor Jungkook were around. She supposed it was a blessing in disguise for the note left on her pillow would have surely been the subject of questioning. It had taken her a while to decipher what exactly Namjoon had meant by the note, but figured that overthinking would be exactly what would be expected of her to do. So, YN headed towards her vanity but stopped cold when she realized the book was not there. I could’ve sworn… YN searched high and low through her bedroom in a manner that was discrete yet thorough. She felt eyes on her and didn’t know if they were guarding or threatening.

           Sana must’ve placed it elsewhere. It would be strange considering the maid never moved any of her stuff without explicit permission, but it certainly was a possibility. YN sighed, looking at the note once again tracing it with her finger as she pondered on what the lord’s intentions might have been in sending her that message. If it had been something unimportant, he surely would have communicated through his staff. It was the way of the palace. If it was urgent, Kim Namjoon would have come himself. No, this was something different. YN’s eyes danced once more on the small piece of paper, observing carefully as if the paper would suddenly reveal a secret to her, that was for her eyes only.

           “Where the flowers bloom…” What flowers? YN’s eyes widened as she recalled something her late mother had taught her. YN had been too young to remember much of her parents, even the few memories she did have were obscured. She did remember her mother always plotting lilies though, it was the only thing that she had been able to cultivate while they lived in the harsh areas of the city. Their garden, if it could be called that, had been barely a meter long. Though their father insisted that she try to grow vegetables, because they were always so expensive at the market, she only grew lilies. Even if they always died. Lilies were delicate beings and required extreme care and stable environments - something YN hadn’t known much of growing up. There was another thing about YN’s mother’s garden: she always complained about the ivy weed that threatened to consume it.

Where flower’s bloom? Lilies required care, attention, and warmth. It needed round the clock observation. An ivy, on the contrary, could potentially grow in any type of environment even the most inhospitable ones. The passage ways!

 It seems Jungkook had kept his promise of locking up the passageway, but YN had figured it couldn’t be the only one. Certainly a castle this old and large must have various entries and exits privy only to those who reside in them. So YN looked in the most obvious place she could think of. It wasn’t difficult to gain access to Jungkook’s bedroom, and the palace had been fairly empty as of late so there weren’t many lingering around. It was rather difficult though to escape the eyes she felt. Jungkook had promised her a brand new security detail, though she had assumed he meant guards. Now she was uncertain. Everywhere YN went she felt eyes and as she peered around the prince’s room, it was no different. Morte was nowhere to be seen but YN couldn’t be sure the snake was hiding or if she was accompanying her master.

“Psst.”

It came from behind her. YN spun around only to face the wall behind the bed. Then she heard it again, “Psst.” This time louder, as she drew nearer her eyes focused on the pattern of the dark brick wall. It was perfectly layered and symmetrical, likely thousands of years old, as the stone had long faded yet somehow kept its state. One last time the “psst” rang out and YN finally noticed that one of the bricks was slightly more pushed in than the others. It was something only noticeable since she was barely a breath away from the wall. Hesitantly, YN reached out and pressed at a large section of the wall sliding back by a few feet. Then she walked forward into the corridors making sure to close it behind, her unaware of the viper observing.

 “I was afraid you might not join me.” Kim Namjoon was not dressed in his usual attire of extravagant clothes. In fact, the old wash of his bottoms and creases on his shirt made it seem like another person when YN had first laid eyes on him, after discovering him deep in the corridors. “I have walked long and have yet to see any Ivies growing. Your clue wasn’t easy to decipher. Had I misinterpreted it, I would have headed to the gardens.” YN answered, there was something off about the lord today but she couldn’t put her finger on it. He seemed desperate to YN. “Ah, but we are at the gardens.” Namjoon replied, finger taping the wall to his left. The passageway they found themselves did in fact run alongside the palace gardens. To his left grew lilies, once planted by the great Kim when the palace was first constructed. To his right, inside the castle, ivies: tall, wild, and lethal. All planted by Jeon the I without intent.

“What is it you want my lord?” Though YN normally enjoyed conversing with Namjoon, something inside her stomach warned her that being hidden away with him would have consequences.

“Have you read the book, my lady?”

“Ah,” YN didn’t exactly know how to break it to him without possibly upsetting him. “I seem to have misplaced it.”

“Someone took it you mean.”

“Why would someone steal a book?” It was a genuine question, as Namjoon had come to that conclusion far too quickly.

“Why would someone steal you?”

So that is what he was trying to get at. YN had long grown tired of having to explain her situation and felt a bit disappointed that Namjoon would even ask. He seemed different. She should have known better. “That is the question I’ve been asking myself since I arrived.” Her tone was apathetic, as she glanced around trying to figure out how to end the conversation.

           “Surely you are not that oblivious my lady. You hold value - a true value that is rare to come by these days.”

           Now she was confused, “You make no sense.”

           Namjoon stepped closer. Even though it was just two steps, YN felt he was trying to bridge the space between them. Either to get her attention or establish dominance, she wasn’t too sure. YN held her ground. “I’m afraid I never do.” Namjoon caresses her cheek, leaning in to whisper. “You smell divine, like flowers...a Sharon rose, perhaps?” YN eyes widened. Her mind traveled to Soojin’s confrontation. “It is simply a name my lord.” Namjoon chuckled, “Yes, I suppose so. That is why there are only two true Kim’s in court.” He turned sharply on his feet and walked away, but not before spinning back just as quickly. “The help is sorted into two fields - Seo’s and Jeon’s - Sana is a Jeon, not by name but it is where her alliances lie - besides the crown.”

           The phone rang inside Min Yoongi’s study and he ignored it. Fully aware of who it was and the consequences it may bring, but the Duke couldn’t bring himself to care. Jimin was in a good mood today, splendid even, and Yoongi didn’t want to do anything that would risk that. So the phone rang for hours upon hours, jiggling harshly upon his desk much to his annoyance. He had instructed the staff to ignore it - let the man think he was out of town. Though it was a dangerous game, now far from the castle Min Yoongi found the courage he so often lacked. He was prepared to play the long game and ignore the brat, demonstrating that Yoongi was not a puppet or a butler he could have at his beck and call. When the phone finally stopped, Yoongi assumed he had won. Until the phone started ringing elsewhere: the master bedroom - Jimin’s room. Yoongi bolted out the door leaving his chair turned over and a few papers scattered. The duke ran through the hallway and burst past the doors just as Jimin put the phone to his ear. Yoongi ripped it out of his hand as gently as he could, not missing the questioning gaze of his beloved. “Hello,” his gruff voice sounding slightly out of breath from the run.

           “Hello Yoongi, I’ve been trying to reach you but it seems you’ve been too busy to pick up the phone. So I figured I would ask your darling for a favor, it’s been so long since I’ve heard from him.”

Yoongi’s eyes widened and his hands balled into a fist. “There’s been some problems with the phone lines lately, it looks like there’s a storm coming.”

           “Oh a storm is coming all right, but that is not why I contacted you Yoongi. I’m sure you’ve received the invitation by now.” He meant the wedding invitation. Yoongi had in fact received the invitation earlier that morning, to say he was surprised when he saw ‘Jeon Jungkook and Seo Soojin’ on the piece of paper would be an understatement. What of the girl? “You see there is the matter of my bachelor party.” Oh no. “While my soon to be wife is busy readying herself, I see no point in not enjoying my last night of an unwed life. So my beloved and I are headed towards your estate as we speak. I hope it isn’t too late for a party.”

             Jungkook had yet to tell her where they were headed, but he seemed in a pleasant mood something which caused YN quite a lot of concern. She was aware that the wedding was tomorrow and hadn’t found it to be a good sign that the groom was effectively leaving a day before. Though Jungkook had sworn he would marry Soojin, there had to be something else at play. A hidden pawn or move that he hadn’t yet exposed - it wouldn’t be out of character for him to somehow weasel his way out of a promise. Then again… The King was involved in this affair and Jungkook had yet to disobey his father. At least in front of her.

           “What has you so entertained?” Jungkook reached over and delicately massaged the frown between her brows. His other hand entwined in hers, fingers gently tracing over her knuckles. “Penny for your thoughts.”

           YN forced a polite smile on her face, “Simply wondering where we are going.” There was nothing to gain from speaking the truth. If her time in the castle had taught her anything it was that.

           “Hm,” the prince nodded, clearly not entirely believing her but choosing not to press the matter. “We are headed to an old friend’s place. Duke Min has agreed to host us for the evening as a farewell gift to my bachelor status.”

           The name rang a bell and the longer she dwelled on it, the clearer the person he was speaking about became. “Duke Min? As in Lady Eun’s lover?” As in the man she had begged to spare her brother’s life? To be fair, all the charges against her brother had been dropped. It wasn't the Duke’s fault that Jungkook had manipulated everything to kill her brother regardless. You killed his lover.

Sensing the clear discomfort in her tone, Jungkook smiled. “Don’t worry my love.” He leaned in closer, his hot breath fanning her ear. “Yoongi engages in various liaisons, but only one truly holds his heart. He and I are a lot alike in that sense.”

     The Min estate was a sight to behold, though it did not compare to the grandiose nature of the palace, YN found herself enjoying it more. It was brighter, a light sky color that matched the lush greenery that surrounded it. It was much smaller than a duke’s home should be, but that was to be expected of a secondary residence - even if it was where Min mainly stayed. In front stood Min Yoongi, as well as multiple staff, all different levels of anxiousness. Most thoughts revolved around the prince and what a pleasure it would be to serve his royal highness when they were so used to serving the duke and his lover. All of Yoongi’s thoughts, though, were on the girl. He longed to see her, only if to ease his curiosity. It had been so long since they had last met and Yoongi wanted to know if she had changed, what she had become. if she remained the same desperate child begging to be saved - or had transformed herself into a vicious snake.

As the carrier arrived, the driver quickly exited to open the door. Jungkook exited first with a sly smile on his face that caused most of the staff to swoon, and right behind him, wearing a simple satin high collared blue dress with a grey coat, exited YN. Her eyes cast around before they immediately dropped down. It wasn’t until Jungkook took her hand in his that she looked up, sending a blank look to the prince - which upon further inspection by the duke was filled with a mixture of contempt yet reluctance. Jungkook whispered something to her that caused her eyes to widen and she quickly looked up at Yoongi with fear in her eyes. The look mirroring one Jimin had given him the first time they had met.

It was gone rather quickly, replaced with a gentle smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Yoongi wondered if that sort of training had been cemented by Jungkook or if much like his songbird YN had learned that adapting meant surviving.

      After a brief tour of the home, the three of them had lunch though YN did not miss the fourth table set that went unused, much to the Duke’s apartments annoyance, the three then spoke in the patio for hours about politics, music, art, philosophy. Though it was more like YN was an observer than an active participant, Jungkook seemed fine about her lack of enthusiasm so long as she was draped on his lap or holding his hand. It was like she was a prize to be admired, but not engaged with. Any time she did wish to join the conversation, she would look up and meet Min Yoongi’s dark feline eyes and immediately sink back into silence. There was something about the duke that holy unnerved her, he seemed fine enough at first glance but the prince’s words kept bouncing around her head. Dinner then came and went, followed by drinks and finally it was time to retire.

“We have prepared two rooms like you asked.” Yoongi states, after waving away an approaching maid. “We hope they are to your enjoyment.” YN can’t help but feel a sense of relief at not having to share a room with Jungkook. They both excuse themselves and are guided up the stairs. Once the maid leaves, YN goes to enter the room but a hold on her wrist stops her. She turns back to look at Jungkook quizzically.

“Oh come on now darling, the rooms are for show.” He says amused. “It’s best not to cause an uproar the night before the wedding.” Jungkook doesn’t even give her time to respond, before he pulls her into his room and shuts the door. It is when he goes in for the kiss that YN rushes out a question that has been plaguing her all day. “Are you actually going to marry Soojin?” Jungkook stops, tilting his head to the side as if thinking over what she says. “Why? Are you jealous?” His tone is teasing, as he goes in for another kiss only to be stopped by YN once more. “You promised her you would. Promised me as well. Do you intend to keep it?”

Jungkook sighed, walking towards the bed and stripping off his clothes layer by layer. “Soojin has been my fiancé since we were children. I was always meant to wed her.” This causes YN’s chest to swell with excitement, only for it to be shattered seconds afterwards. “Still it is you who will be my queen. You did promise to wed me too recall? In exchange for protection from any more assassination attempts. Everyone always knows that first marriages are for gains and the second is for love.” He beckoned her closer, for some reason YN obeyed. Standing nearly nude in the moonlight YN once again was blinded by his beauty. He looked so much like an angel, but she knew devils could shapeshift to enticing forms.

Once again she wondered if things had been different would Jungkook have wooed her too. In another life, would she have come to love him? Would he even be interested in her? No use in thinking of what ifs. Nothing would change who Jungkook was now, just like it appeared nothing would save YN. Not as long as the prince was alive.

When YN awoke the next morning the prince was gone, the spot beside her in bed now cold. Though she couldn’t be certain it had ever been warm. She dressed and headed down stairs, surprised to find barely any staff and the duke gone as well. It’s a royal wedding of course they would all be gone. YN eyed the door and approached it, seeking an opportunity for escape. The place couldn’t possibly be as heavily guarded as the castle. YN hadn’t seen any guards or anything of the sort the day before. Just as her hand was about to grip the handle, a butler appeared startling her.

“Pardon the interruption my lady, but breakfast has been served outside in the garden.” YN smiles politely nodding before heading out towards the gardens. The gardens aren’t likely to be guarded. She could always escape into the forestry surrounding the house. As she exited the house, she caught sight of a man sitting at the table where breakfast was served. He was stunning, that was the first thing she noticed. With soft yet angled features, large lips, and delicate eyes. She must’ve been staring a long time because the man finally turned to look at her and in his eyes, YN could see a deep melancholy not dissimilar to her own.

“So you’re the prince’s whore?”

YN was taken aback by his bluntness, but squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. She wouldn’t be disrespected by someone who seemed to be in the same boat as her. So that’s what Jungkook meant. “Are you the Duke’s?”

He smiled, she could tell it wasn’t fake as humor filled his eyes. Only to quickly be replaced with sadness yet again. “I am his lover, his songbird, his whore.” The man looked forward towards the violets, “It all depends on his mood.” Then filled with mirth, “It all depends on the sex.” It was once he turned back towards her, his smile a mix of innocence and seduction that he finally stated his name. “You can call me Jimin though.” YN couldn’t help the slight smile that spread across her face, for even though she did not know what Jimin had gone through he was still surviving and that inspired her a bit.

The two of them ate in silence and merely observed the garden, breathing in the fresh air and taking in nature. YN thought this might be the first time she has ever been at peace after meeting Jungkook. It isn’t until the sun is higher in the sky, past midday or a bit before, that Jimin speaks again.

“They’re both gone. Off to the wedding it seems.” He says it with such resentment, YN can’t help but wonder if it's because he isn’t with them or Jimin dislikes weddings in general. When YN questions him, he chuckles. “No, I’m not mad. A whore isn’t welcome in a church after all.” The sly wink he sends her lets her know that she too is included in the joke. Even then, she wonders if Jimin even gets to leave at all. Suddenly Jungkook’s words when they were approaching the house pop into her head, “The Duke is fond of keeping treasures too so be sure not to catch his attention.”

“Perhaps we should have our own fun.” She says suddenly, little thought given to the consequences said action may hold for both of them.

Jimin turns to YN, eyes widened before his lips pucker into a pout. “I’m not allowed to leave and no one can go against the Duke’s wishes.”

“I outrank the Duke.” A bit of silence followed before the two of them broke out into wicked grins.

 YN had never really been in the city, the area she used to reside in where the slums were, and even then she went out so little that her memories of it were vague. Jimin seemed to have a better idea of where they were going, dragging her from fashion boutique to cafes to bars and anywhere else he could think of. He seemed so jovial as if he were a bird able to fly after so long, when he looked it at YN it was with a mixture of glee and gratitude. Even if she didn’t enjoy all the attention garnered every time Jimin pulled out Yoongi’s money, she didn’t want to break what little happiness had returned to Jimin. Especially when he had seemed so starved of it.

“Here this is for you. If you’re forced and resigned to being the prince’s whore might as well dress the part.” Jimin often called her that instead of her name, but given the lack of malice in his voice whenever he did YN couldn’t bring herself to care. He handed her a velvet box, which upon opening it possessed a silver necklace with a black gemstone and matching ring. “Jimin I can’t take this.” It was certainly expensive judging by the look of it and she felt this was his way of saying thanks. “I appreciate it but -”

Jimin rolled his eyes and took the ring out of the box and forced it onto her finger. “Don’t make this a big deal. If you look like a victim people will treat you like one, but if you look like a queen...well no one goes against a queen.” He had maneuvered his way around her and placed the necklace on her neck tying it delicately on the back. “There now you look like a queen.” His fingers brushed comfortingly on the side of her neck. YN smiled and thanked him silently. They were towards the back of a store, it was a smaller boutique, likely only being able to contain no more than twenty people inside yet it was relatively empty. The stylist had stepped into the back after offering them beverages and hadn’t returned since.

As the two new friends continued their conversation, a car pulled up to the front of the store. It was a large suburban with thick windows that were blacked out. Since Jimin had his back to the front it was YN who first noticed it, finding it peculiar. It wasn’t until the car doors opened and she saw the sigil on the driver’s side that she recognized who it belonged to. Resistance. It didn’t take her too long to grasp at why they were there. Rather quickly she gripped Jimin’s arms, “Go to the back of the store and don’t come back out until it's safe.” Rather forcefully she shoved him towards the back and Jimin spared her a glance before running to the back of the store.

Please please please. YN didn’t know exactly what she was asking for, but it was the only thing that occurred to her. Five burly men entered the store all setting their sights on her immediately. “Hello, Kim YN. Our leader would like to speak with you.”

“I’m Kim Seokjin, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” The words couldn’t be any more of a farce, but Seokjin was nothing if not civil and polite. The smile forced onto his face was entirely charismatic and swayed anyone that looked it at. While being a good leader was important, good looks also aided Seokjin in staking his claim on the throne. Though people swore loyalty to the Kim’s and claimed to despise the Jeon’s, no one would rally behind an ugly person not when their prince looked like a fallen angel. “I’ve been told quite a lot about you. I am sorry that we have had to meet under these circumstances, but it isn’t very often the prince lets his most prized possession out of his sights.”

Truth was he could have waited, but Seokjin wanted to see her. Wanted to know what had captured not just the prince’s attention, but Namjoon’s as well. Now that YN was in front of him he saw nothing that could explain it. She’s rather plain looking. Not only that but she sat perfectly straight in her chair refusing to engage in any conversation at all. Her lips were pursed, face stoic, and eyes observed everything at a clinical distance. She acts like a Jeon that’s for sure. Well if she wasn’t going to reply might as well continue, “I am sure you have first hand experience of how cruel the Jeon’s can be. They are cold, cunning, and utilize dark arts to keep their power. They took what was once a great country, with wealth and happiness to go around and have hogged it all to the point were most of the population lives in extreme hunger and despair.”

“Have you ever gone hungry?” YN’s soft voice spoke out, barely above a whisper yet it captured all of Seokjin’s attention. “It seems strange to me to hear about hunger and despair from a man who has never experienced it in his life.”

Seokjin was taken aback, but kept his calm. “I have faced much despair in my life, but it would take too long to go into detail about it. Plus I am not fond of comparing traumas.”

“What dark arts do you speak of? I’ve never heard of the Jeon’s performing dark arts.” That was a lie, but YN was baiting him. Plus if Seokjin had useful information that could help her escape Jungkook then she was willing to do anything.

Seokjin smiled, “A group of less than a hundred men stormed a castle full of guards, nobility, and the royal family and within an hour had slaughtered them all and taken control. Of course, it was magic.”

So he knows nothing. YN remained quiet, she observed Kim Seokjin the way one might a potential threat. Even if he had yet to attack or make his intentions clear, the only person YN had met that hadn’t attempted to coerce her or hurt her had been Jimin. The odds weren’t in her favor. Even Namjoon whom she had thought of as a friend had acted strange the last time they met. “Unless there is something you know. Which may help us restore the imbalance of power and return things back to their harmonious state.”

It was clear neither were buying what the other was selling and it was only a matter of time before that truth became obvious to the two of them.

“What I am trying to get at my lady is, it would not only benefit the kingdom but you as well if you -” Before Seokjin could finish his pitch, the doors of his office slammed open and in strolled Kim Namjoon decked in a royal blue blazer with matching top and cream pants, he looked like a leader and with the way he regarded Seokjin it was clear which one of them truly called the shots. “I learned you kidnapped Lady Kim when I specifically asked you not to. Now we have both an angry prince and Duke on our hands.”

“The prince is getting married, he is far too concerned with his future bride to care where his mistress is.”

“Ah, well since you clearly know Jeon Jungkook so well explain to me then why fourteen of our allies had their families raided and imprisoned not ten minutes after you took her.”

Both Seokjin and YN froze in shock, unable to believe what they had just heard. Ten minutes? It took ten minutes for Jungkook to find out she was missing and exact his revenge when he was more than a hundred miles away. “Don’t play with me Namjoon.” Seokjin’s voice had lost all its charm and was not monotone, “This isn’t funny.” Namjoon scoffed, “They’re awaiting their sentencing and everyone knows it's the gallows for traitors.” An image of her brother’s dead body flashed before YN and she struggled to not heave. “Now go fix it.” Namjoon demanded, pointing his finger out the door. Seokjin marched out not sparing YN a look, but she could tell by the look on his face he would surely blame her for this. It’s always my fault.

YN sat stunned in silence as Namjoon ran a hand through his hair, pulling at the ends with frustration. She glanced towards her lap trying not to make eye contact, her hands were shaking and YN gripped her skirt in order to steady them. “I can talk him out of it.” YN wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince Namjoon or herself. “He wouldn’t -”

“Yes, he would YN. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re dead already.” He muttered, before sighing and gazing at her sympathetically. “Don’t blame yourself my lady. This isn’t your fault.”

YN chuckled humorlessly, “All of this is my fault. Every death that has occurred since the prince and I crossed paths has been my fault.” Or by my hand. Lady Eun and Vito flashed before her eyes.

“Well then I shall have to start referring to you as Lady Death or Lady D for short.”

YN smiled at his attempt to lighten the mood, “Very funny my lord.” The two stared into each other's eyes for a while before YN finally broke the calm silence that had settled between them. “Is Kim Seokjin an ivy or a lily?” The smile on the lord’s face melts away before he quickly replaces it with one that doesn’t reach his eyes. There is a mask on his face that YN has only seen him wear around others before and she smurmises what it must mean - Namjoon finally sees her as a threat.

“He is a Kim with a stake to the throne, one of the last remaining ones.” He walks towards a leather seat right across from where she is. Namjoon sits the way a gentleman would, reclining yet keeping his back straight and shoulders square. Head held high as his height caused him to look down at her ever so slightly. YN found herself imagining what he would look like with a crown on his head. “So what is your plan? To use Seokjin and let him die in his quest for the throne?” Her eyebrow raises as she questions whether Namjoon would be as cruel to use someone for their own personal gains, then again that seems to be the norm among the nobility.

“Seokjin won’t die.” Namjoon spoke as if this were a fact and not an optimistic delusion.

“Please don’t be foolish, my lord. The Jeons and Seo’s will wipe out any possible threat that exists to them.” YN had experienced it first hand.

“The Seo’s believe where all lunatics clinging to the past and the Jeons would never attack without solid reasoning.”

YN laughed, “The prince just executed four families without solid reasoning.”

“No,” Namjoon shook his head as disappointed she didn’t understand. “The prince executed conspirators that may have played a role in the kidnapping of a court lady and his lover.”

YN fixed him with a pointed stare, “You know the truth.”

Namjoon leans forward in his seat, “The truth doesn’t matter, tell a lie enough times it becomes the truth. People don’t want to believe the reality, they want to hear what is most convenient to them.”

“What is this truth that you are trying to tell? That Seokjin is the true heir when the Kim line has been so mixed that’s nearly impossible. Or is that little speech all you have?” YN was frustrated. Tired of being treated like a pawn in a larger game of thrones. “You seem to be under the illusion that I am completely unaware of what having a Kim king was like. I don’t like the Jeons nor the Kims, both patriarchy’s have set about ruining the kingdom each in their own way.”

“Good thing we aren’t going to have a patriarch on the throne.” He smirked.

YN’s words died on her tongue as the statement caused her to pause. It unsettled, then it all began to click. Jungkook’s intense desire to make her queen, Soojin questioning her family name, Namjoon’s insistence, even her brother’s untimely death. At that moment YN longed to be anywhere else but there to be far away: back in the store with her brother, back in their childhood home with her parents, even locked back inside the palace bedrooms. At least there she knew what to expect, what future awaited her. There her status as a sister, daughter, prisoner were clear. Inside the rebel grounds  they were not, she was about as certain of her fate as she had been that night in the dungeon. “What do you mean?” The look Namjoon gave her spoke for itself. You know what he means, don’t deny it any longer. “YN,” he rose from his chair cautiously, his eyes hesitant as if unsure how she would react. For a split second, YN could see what looked like trepidation in his eyes but what would the great Lord Kim have to be afraid of? “You were never merely a pawn and it was never nearly a name.”

Soojin sat restlessly on the marriage bed, waiting for Jungkook to arrive. She was certain there were ears glued to the chamber doors and could feel eyes on her figure, yet she couldn’t tell where they came from. The wedding had been a spectacle if a little small, but she supposed it would help cement her image as a humble princess. It wasn’t a good look to waste millions on a wedding when the country’s poor were starving. Her knees were tucked into her chamise as the cold air in the room nipped at her skin, the lit fire was too far away to offer anything besides light. Though she longed to go near it, she had been told it was bad luck for the bride to step foot off the bed before the marriage had been consummated. Even if it already had been days before.

She isn’t exactly sure how long passes, but knows that it must have been a while since the cold nipping at her had long seeped into her bones and was now causing her to shiver. The silk bedding offered little protection. More time passed and Soojin found herself dozing off, the new moon high in the sky before she was awoken by the ringing of a bell. It announced that someone wished to enter the room and Soojin gave her permission. A young maid entered, hair tucked tightly into a bun as she bowed deeply. She looked familiar to the princess and she racked her brain trying to find her name before finally recalling, Ah yes, Sana. The whore’s maid. Soojin didn’t think much of it, since YN was no longer in the castle and posed no threat to her. She regarded the maid civilly.

“What is it?”

“I apologize, your highness, the prince has left the castle for the city and it seems he will not be returning before tomorrow.”

Soojin laughed, to her it must have been a joke. Surely Jungkook would not leave on their wedding night to be with his mistress when his wife was right there. She lifted her hand to cover her mouth and realized she was not only laughing, but crying as well. Finally Sana looked up at her, eyes filled with pity and any sadness in Soojin turned to rage. I see. YN had sent her maid to taunt her, to show that even though Soojin was queen Jungkook still belonged to her. Soojin raised her hand to strike the maid, when a sudden sharp pain from her abdomen caused her to fall over.

“Princess?!” Sana rushed to her help, only to be pushed away by Soojin. “Leave! Lock the doors! I don’t want anyone to see me!” She roared like a lioness and Sana backed away, bowed in submission. It was once she heard the small ‘click’ of the locked door that Soojin allowed the sobs to wreck through her body as the pain in her stomach worsened. What is happening to me? She raises her hand and sees small drops of water that have stuck. Soojin could not remember the last time she had cried. Perhaps it had been her sixth birthday when her father had died or perhaps it had been when her mother scolded her for crying after his death.

Nonetheless she did not have time to dwell on it for the pain she felt forced her up and had her heaving. She could feel something crawling up her throat and she tried desperately not to choke on it. I won’t give up this fight. Not after everything I’ve sacrificed. The pain was harsher than ever and it burned so much that Soojin swore it would tear itself from the inside out. She had no choice but to open her mouth and let it out. Soojin expected a lot of things to exit her: bile, the wedding cake, even flowers if she were to be honest. What she did not expect was the small baby snake in the pool of blood; which upon closer inspection by the princess was dead.

           When YN arrived at the Min house it looked deserted as if not a soul resided in it, but she knew Jungkook was waiting inside. Even far away, YN could sense the danger radiating from inside - Jungkook was sure to be infuriated and she hoped it wasn’t too late to talk him down from his anger before more innocent people lost their lives. She pushed through the front doors, not surprised to find them open, and saw Jungkook waiting for her sat upon the stairs. What did come as a shock to her was that he was still wearing his wedding clothes. Did he really come straight after? His long hair is styled back to show off his undercut, the tight fit of his suit - a grey and white jacket with matching pants and the Jeon symbol embroidered on the left breast - show off his figure nicely. When the prince catches her staring he smirks, but it does little to subdue the fire present in his eyes.

           “Oh and did the rebellion help you find your way back darling? How nice of them. Not to worry, I’ve already sent them my thanks.” Sarcasm dripped from every word, but it stoked YN’s own fury how casually he spoke about killing people. How little he cared.

           “Haven’t you killed enough?! Those poor people have nothing to do with it and you know it. Stop murdering people as a show of power.” She was seething, not being able to bear the guilt of anymore blood on her hands.

           “A display of power?” Jungkook raised his eyebrow, “If I wanted to display my power, I would have murdered every single person in that little so called rebellion. No what I did was a display of my love for you.” Even through his insanity, she could see he was being honest and that terrified her even more.

           “How do you think it looks to your people that on your wedding day, you’re more concerned with your mistress's disappearance than your own wife?” Though Jungkook didn’t care about appearances, the crown still had an image to uphold.

           Jungkook opened his mouth, letting it form a small ‘o.’ “I see you’ve been under the impression this whole time that the public knows who you are.” He smiled at her confused expression, “You see while the public is aware that I have taken a mistress, all they know is that she is a lady of the court. But the murders that occurred tonight were due to the aiding of a wanted criminal.”

           “A what?” It was not the first time that day that YN had found herself as the centerpiece in a chessboard. Except that while she had just been told she was the strongest piece - this conversation would serve as a reminder of who truly controlled the game. “Your brother was an enemy of the state, one that conspired to overthrow the throne. While normally I allow Kim Seokjin to play diliances since everyone is aware his claim is less than weak, him reaching out to you demonstrates that he is a far more threatening player than I had originally anticipated.” He shrugs, “If you ever do manage to escape you will be persecuted for your crimes against the crown.” He would throw me in a cell and let me rot to prove a point. No, it’s more than that. Jungkook is not only cornering her, but the Kims in general. A criminal can’t be a ruler.

           YN walks toward Jungkook, her stride strong and determined as she crossed the space between them to come kneel in front of him. Once they were at eye level, she tenderly cupped his cheek. Whispering softly, “Are you afraid he sought me out to get to you? Is that what this is?” Jungkook leans into her embrace, trying to steal a kiss. YN avoids him by instead brushing her lips over the shell of his ear, “After everything you have done to me I do not need outside forces to compel me to hate you.” When she pulled back, she saw something unexpected. There were tears in Jungkook’s eyes, not dissimilar to the ones that had been there when she had told him of his father’s plan. For a split second, YN found herself wondering once again what might have happened if the two of them had met in a different time. If Jungkook were not the cruel prince that he is and had not hurt her, could she love him? Or were they doomed to repeat the same brutal love story for all of eternity.

           Jungkook’s hand snapped up to grab a hold of YN’s neck and he flipped them around, caging her between the marble stairs and his own body. “It is not his interest in me or my crown that fills me with bloodlust, but rather his interest in you.” The prince’s grip was so tight, she could feel the indents of his fingers being left behind.

           Perhaps she should have waited for a better time. Perhaps YN should not have taken the bait so clearly laid out by the prince, but it had been a long day and the only person who could truly give her answers stood right in front of her. “How long?” She questions in a broken whisper. “When did you know?” Had he known this whole time and that’s why he had been stringing her along? People in the kingdom longed to go back to a time before the Jeons, but their hatred did not extend towards the prince. In their eyes he was nothing like his cruel bloodline. Jungkook drew her closer, his lips trailing up her nose bridge until he planted a kiss on her forehead. “If you're afraid my interest in you is solely due to your bloodline, don’t be afraid. Something as measly as a name wouldn’t sway my affection.” He lowered his head, to make sure they were at eye level, “besides you’ll be a Jeon soon. Whether or not you are of royal bloodline will not matter once you are queen. If anything it will legitimize your place beside me.” The smile he gave her was saccharine, full of nothing but love and adoration. As if his words were meant to comfort her, when they were only a display of how carefully he had orchestrated everything.

           “When?” YN repeated, glaring at him with so much fury Jungkook swore he should be beneath the ground.

           “After our conversation in your cell. I had Yoongi and Jimin find information about you and deliver it to me.” He drew away, leaving space between them in case his words evoked a physical reaction. “I wanted to make sure I wasn’t being fooled. Then I read about your parents, what a strange accident that seemed to be.” His finger tapped his chin mockingly. “Especially so soon after your adoption had been finalized. Then I traced your lineage only to find it didn’t exist. Since my grandfather took the throne every single person born with the surname Kim has been documented, yet you don’t exist.” His pitch raised, dramatizing his words. “Seems like someone went a long way to make a little girl from nowhere completely disappear.” The prince shrugged, as if his words had not completely shattered everything YN once knew to be true.

“That is how I knew.”

           YN lunged at him, she didn’t exactly know what had compelled her to, but she did. The strength behind said attack seemed to surprise even Jungkook. Still he looked entirely serene when she straddled and wrapped her hands around his throat, deciding to repay him for what he had done seconds before. YN squeezed with all her might. Instead of being afraid Jungkook began to laugh, maniacally so, “Honestly darling, first stabbing and now choking. What’s next, are you going to try to poison me?”

           “Morte isn’t here.” YN spat out, “There’s nothing to ensure you survive.” The prince was beginning to turn red, face swelling at the constriction of air flow, yet he kept laughing. She had begun to understand the type of power Jungkook wielded, if Morte was his lifeline like Vito was hers. Then not having the snake around made him vulnerable.

           “I don’t need a snake to keep me alive because you won’t kill me.”

           “Who says I won’t?!”

           By now hints of purple had started to seep through, he was gasping for air. “B-because i-if you d-do I’ll k-kill i-it. I’ll k-kill s-Soojin’s unborn child.”

YN stilled, but did not relinquish her grip. “You’ll be dead. You won’t be able to hurt anyone.”

           “I’m the only thing keeping her alive,” he smiled sadistically. “The second I die, Seokjin will take power and he won’t hesitate to slaughter. Or maybe it’ll be your precious Namjoon. Perhaps even Sana, she’ll be so filled with envy and rage that I didn’t impregnate her that she will poison Soojin.” He leaned forward, licking his lips. “Then it will not only be my blood on your hands, but that of an innocent child.” As his words set in, YN’s fingers slacked and Jungkook took advantage, wrapping his arms around her torso. YN stared up at him, “How could you be so cruel?” It wasn’t until she tasted the salt on her lips that she even realized she was crying.

           “I will do anything to keep us together. Whether alive or dead, you cannot escape me.”

_6 Months Later_

           “Princess, are you ready? The prince and King are waiting for you.”

           Soojin sighed, standing up from the chair she had decided to rest on and allowed the maid to guide her towards the front of the palace. There was to be a tour today, charity work where the royal family went out and pretended to care about their people. The last tour, before Soojin had known about her pregnancy had been a success, even if it had been cut short by the King’s health suddenly declining once more. Still today’s trip towards the city’s slums was sure to not be too troublesome. Just smile and nod. Her hand brushed tenderly over her large bump, it was quite big for the stage she was at and had been the cause of much speculation and rumors. Still Jungkook played the role of doting husband and soon-to-be father so well, no one would ever suspect Soojin had only seen him a handful of times since the wedding. Even less since the engagements.

           Whom Soojin had not seen at all was YN. Though it caused her nothing but glee to think the wedding and pregnancy had hurt her in some way. The princess also knew that enemies should be kept closest of all, even more than her own son. “Did YN receive my gift?” She whispered lowly, so as not to be heard. The maid nodded, “Yes, princess. It was delivered at dawn by a neutral party.” Good, then she’ll be out of our hands soon. If YN was smart she would take the chance offered by Soojin, even if it was a trap that was sure to leave her permanently out of the picture. When she arrived at the main entrance, she noted all the guards and nobility lined up to bid them farewell yet - “My son will not be joining us. He has received word of the rebellion planning an attack and I have ordered him to stay.” King Jeon barely spared her a glance before adjusting his crown and entering the car.

           Soojin grimaced, but put on a smile when entering. It’ll be fine. Just smile, nod, and make them love their future queen. The King’s days were numbered, anyone could see, that is why the rebellion was getting bolder. Staging public protests, spreading propaganda, and small planned attacks. They were building to something. Rumor had it they had infiltrated the castle and though  Kim Seokjin had always been the face, Soojin had heard through the grapevine someone else truly pulled the strings. It's ridiculous. Just a little boy playing dress up. So the princess pushed it from her mind, cradling her stomach as the car drove away into the road to embark on the journey, unaware it would be the one that would lead her straight to death.

             YN didn’t know exactly how long she had been walking, but considering the sun had just risen when she had sneaked out of the castle and was now about to set she must’ve walked a significant distance. She hadn’t brought much with her, wanting to leave before Sana brought her breakfast or Jungkook stopped by. Only a jacket, a change of shoes, some money, a map, and Jimin’s gift tucked away in case the worst happened. The blisters on her feet were surely bleeding by now, but stopping to rest was a risk YN wasn’t willing to take. Cliche as it might be, YN heard the snapping of a branch before she realized she had company. “Lady YN.” When she turned around she was greeted with Park Jinyoung and Lee Baekhyung. “The King has requested you return to the palace as soon as possible.” The guard’s faces were as stoic as YN remembered considering she had not seen them in a long time.

           He sent his lap dogs after me...wait, the king? “I believe you’re mistaken, surely the King has greater concerns than me.”

           Baekhyung smiled, “Nonsense, nothing is more important to the King than you right now. And we’ve been sent to escort you back.”

           “Or retrieve you by force if necessary.” Jinyoung added.

           YN didn’t need to look to know she was surrounded by guards, still the trip had not been useless. She had gotten what she was after and the men were none the wiser.

           “The vehicle transporting the King and princess was attacked by the rebellion. Not all made it out alive.”

           YN gasped, No. That can’t be. Before YN could dwell on it any longer, the guards grabbed her and dragged her to the car. She didn’t put up a fight, too many thoughts running through her head, but one stood out above all. Soojin can’t be dead.

             “Get it out of me!” Soojin screamed, pain wrecking her body as she contorted every which way. Several maids held her down as they tried to save her son. “Get him out of me! He’s dying! He’s killing me!” Truth is with every contraction felt, Soojin found herself becoming weaker. Her muscles ached yet felt tender, bones brittle as if made of stone, every time she breathed it felt like she was inhaling smoke. What is this?! What is going on?! “Please princess. Just push. Breathe and push.” Soojin tried to do what she said, but instead of easing the pain it only made it worse. The knife had long been discarded and the maids were now attempting to help take the baby out, but it didn’t explain the pain. “Stop it hurts! It hurts!” She cried out, feeling like she was being torn from the inside out.

           The second she realized that, Soojin swore she felt claws trace the lining of her stomach from the inside. “Get that fucking thing out of me!” He isn’t human. It isn’t human. She had long been warned of the dangers of a Jeon pregnancy, but Soojin hadn’t listened. She never listened and it would finally cause her death. I should have killed it. By now the blood spilled all over the sheets, floors, and clothes was turning a dark red. I should have killed the girl before he met her. Soojin felt her heart begin to beat slower. I should have killed the witch. Her senses weakening  as spots filled her vision. I should have killed him when I had the chance. A flash of memory came to mind: the night she had told Jungkook of her pregnancy, how delighted he seemed to have been, yet when he spoke of ‘we’ she had somehow known it wasn’t about her. He knew, he knew all this time...and all to be with her.

           “Just one final push princess and that’s it.” Soojin's smile was filled with melancholy as she gave one final push, bringing the new prince into this earth. When the child took his first breath, she took her last.

             YN stood in front of the giant throne room, she hadn’t bothered changing knowing the King would look at her with disgust no matter what she wore. Tentatively she knocked, before the doors were slammed open and YN entered her eyes to the ground displaying submission. “You requested me, your highness.” Instead of a response, she heard a babble. When her eyes snapped up YN saw what to others might be the stuff of dreams, but to her, it was her worst nightmare come true. Jungkook sat upon the throne, a heavily jeweled crown resting on his head - the Kings crown. His entire focus was on the newborn in his arm. He gazed lovingly at the small boy and even cooed at it. Jungkook was so entranced a goofy grin adorned his face as he coddled his son.

           Eventually the prince King did look up and what you saw in his eyes was an amalgamation of pure love, obsession, and insanity. “Look Mommy’s here.”

[florrickandassociates]

TGF Thoughts-- 5x07: And the fight had a detente...

This episode is a wild ride, so if you haven’t seen it yet and you aren’t spoiled, don’t read this. Just go watch it.  

Ave Maria plays over a photo montage of cancelled men, including Kevin Spacey, Louie CK, and Scott Rudin. (Scott Rudin, if you don’t know the name, is a Broadway/Hollywood producer who treated his assistants like absolute shit. He’s the inspiration for the possessed producer episode of Evil—I think it’s the third episode of the series—and Robert King does not like him one bit.)  

And then the episode opens with Wackner, Del, and Cord discussing the Armie Hammer cannibalism ordeal. Whew, this is not what I wanted to be thinking about first thing on a Thursday morning. I do not think I can put into words how boring I find debating whether or not someone should have been “cancelled.”  Cancellation is usually about rich people facing consequences for shitty actions, and those consequences have never involved anyone’s rights being infringed upon, so why should I care about someone being cancelled? And, while I know that society/people on Twitter don’t always understand nuance, I’d like to think that when it comes to the most notable examples of cancellation... no one is losing their livelihood over false or minor allegations.  

There are so, so, so many issues in the world. Cancellation affects a handful of high profile, usually white, straight, male, celebrities. Why should I give a shit about, like, Louie CK not being able to make as much money as he used to? I just do not and cannot find it interesting.

I’m not surprised David Cord and Del Cooper find this topic interesting—Del likely hates worrying that all of his comedians could get cancelled and put him in a financially tricky spot; Cord probably says things like “Woke Mob” unironically. And as for Wackner, he almost certainly has a skewed understanding of what actually happens when someone’s cancelled and sees a place where he can step in and add some order. Blah. It’s just so boring.

"People are getting canceled without a trial, no evidence presented against them,” Wackner says. This is not it, Wackner! This is such a strawman argument. We don’t need the legal system to adjudicate people being assholes to each other, and in cases where a crime is committed or a particular individual can sue for damages, that is what happens. If you act shitty and then your sponsors realize you’re toxic and drop you, like, it is what it is. You can feel free to respond via a Notes App screenshot where half of your apology is actually just whining about cancel culture and then you say “I’m sorry if anyone took offense at what I did” instead of saying “I’m sorry I said/did hurtful things” and when people don’t take that seriously, maybe it’s because you didn’t take it seriously, either.  

“There are a lot of reasons these accusations never go to trial. The victims finally get to accuse the victimizer face to face,” Wackner explains. Were the victims asking for this?

Marissa shares my question, noting that if the victims don’t want to speak up, then the victimizer would have the court to himself. This raises a new question: who is even bringing these cases? Are Wackner, Cord, and Del just deciding they want to do things as cases and then getting everyone else on board? This sounds bad!  

Apparently, according to Wackner, “if #MeToo relies on mob rule, it’ll exhaust itself.” What... evidence is there for this? I get why people panic about the POSSIBILITY of this happening, even though I don’t share their panic, but is there any actual evidence that #MeToo is losing steam because of false allegations because cancellation isn’t a formal process? I don’t believe there is.  

The test case we have the pleasure of seeing this week is about “Louie CK two,” whom I shall refer to as LCK2 instead of learning his name.  

Now, suddenly, Marissa is asking one of LCK2’s victims to testify. She doesn’t want to participate because it’s just another way for LCK2 to get his career back. Marissa decides to be idealistic and say this is a real opportunity to confront LCK2 with his crime. I suppose she isn’t wrong, and that is what happens next, but, again, meh.

Apparently David Cord is going to defend LCK2. You know what would get cancelled in five seconds? A David Cord funded show that has David Cord actually on it, railing against cancel culture! Can you IMAGINE the thinkpieces?

God, when is this episode going to move on from this extremely irritating premise?

Marissa decides she wants to be the prosecutor. Wackner says if she prosecutes LCK2, she has to prosecute the academic who used a word that sounds like the n-word and lost her job for it.  Marissa thinks the academic shouldn’t have been fired, but Wackner insists she has to take both cases.

“Let’s go into court,” Wackner says, and, thank goodness, we do go into court: REAL court, where we are talking about REAL issues.  

In court, Liz and Diane are suing the police over the death of a black girl who was tased by the police. Her friend is on the stand and it’s quite emotional. Also, Diane tries to pass Liz a note and Liz ignores it. Why would you have two name partners on this case if they aren’t even going to try to work together?  

You can tell things are tense between two TGF characters when they talk at the same time in court but are on the same side.  

Hiiiiii Abernathy! ILY!

The victim had a heart condition, which the police lawyer argues is the actual cause of death. Police lawyer also argues that since this witness posted some ACAB lyrics on Instagram, she must be biased. Eyeroll.

Liz calls the other lawyer racist; the other lawyer tries to make Liz look like she is only on her client’s side because she’s black and that Liz is being absurd.  

Cancel culture court happens. We’re dealing with the academic case first. I don’t feel like talking about the cancel culture shit too much, so here is my take on this case as a whole: (1) I don’t think the actual word in question, which isn’t actually the n-word, is enough on its own to get someone fired (2) I also don’t think anyone can use that word, regardless of its meaning or history, without understanding how it will come across. (3) The teacher did not get fired for simply using this word once (4) This teacher believes that anyone who is from a group that’s been marginalized in history should have to confront that marginalization with as little sympathy and respect as possible because it will help them be more resilient. So basically, if you are from the dominant group then you don’t get challenged. She believes it is her job to do this. She is an egotistical asshole who has no business teaching.  

Cord wants everyone to have to say the full word in question. He says this pretentiously (though I don’t think saying “Said word” is that pretentious, tbh) and Wackner rules against him and also makes him wear a powdered wig for using “obtuse language.”

Marissa is not trying at all with this case at first, since she doesn’t believe in it. That’s shitty, Marissa. If you want to be a lawyer at a firm like RL you’re going to have to fight for all of your clients.  

Marissa makes a Latin joke and ends up in a powdered wig, too.  

The prof says, in one sentence, that she didn’t know what she was doing using the word and also that the black student who took offense thinks college is supposed to be warm, cuddly, and unchallenging. So it was a challenge, then, prof?  

I like this student. And I love that she calls Marissa out for obviously not trying.  

“The optics matter. Racially,” Diane says to Liz, who agrees. Diane, strategically, makes it about gender first (the cop is male, some jurors may react to a woman questioning a man), then makes it about how she should be the one questioning the cop since Liz is black. It would make the jury more “comfortable” (hey, there’s that word again!) Diane says. She says she is being pragmatic.  

Diane says that she could be “more dispassionate”. Be or come across as, Diane? Either way, Liz, who knows full well what the optics look like given that this isn’t her first time in court, doesn’t agree with Diane that they need to come across as dispassionate.  

Then Diane just changes the subject to the firm drama. “Liz, you’re shoving me out of my name partner position because of my race.” Like that’s the issue!  

“I am doing nothing. You are the one who got our racist clients to whine to STR Laurie about us,” Liz counters. “Those clients bring in a great deal of money, and they are not racists,” Diane insists. Yes. Sure. Diane just happened to choose white male clients who were “comfortable” with her to talk to. I have no doubt they’d have reacted poorly to any change in representation, but Diane was counting on those particular clients having some discomfort with their new lawyers.  

Liz calls her out and Diane’s still trying to play it like she just had to inform her long-term clients and it just had to be done this way. But, when Liz asks if Diane thinks the clients would’ve had the same reaction if their new representation were to be white, Diane says that maybe her clients are worried about racial grudges. So, what you’re saying is you knew exactly what you were doing, huh, Diane?  

I get why Diane doesn’t like being pushed out, because who would, but Diane, this isn’t about you. And if you didn’t want to make it about race, perhaps you shouldn’t have appeared on a panel about how great it is that your firm is majority black? You can’t have it both ways.  

Liz notes that Diane felt “entitled” to her name partnership. This is accurate, though based on revenue and stature I don’t think it can be denied that Diane deserves name partner status (generally speaking). Diane went over to RBK, was like, “sure, I’ll be a junior partner, thank you so much for the opportunity, I can’t even pay my capital contribution right now but what if I were name partner in three months?” and that is both entitlement and knowing one’s own worth, but mostly entitlement.  

(Liz does not act entitled, but if we want to get into who deserves their partnership more—again generally speaking, not their partnership at a black firm specifically—it is definitely Diane! Liz literally only has this job because her dad was important.)  

“I think that Barbara Kolstad was shoved out because you felt entitled to her position,” Liz shouts. OMG, a mention of Barbara?!?!?!??!?!? THANK YOU, WRITERS!!!

(This is a slight bit of revisionist history but I’ll allow it, and I think it’s right in thought even if it’s not right on the details. Barbara wasn’t shoved out—Barbara chose to go to a different firm that offered her a better deal—but I don’t think Barbara would’ve been on that trajectory had it not been for Diane’s presence at the firm. Barbara was in charge of a firm that shared her values when, suddenly, her partner decided that they needed to pursue profit over all else and needed Diane to execute that strategy. Maybe no one made a move directly against her, but Adrian and Diane changed the mission of RBK until it was no longer somewhere Barbara wanted to work.

“We can’t work together if you don’t respect me,” Diane screams at Liz. “No, we can’t work together if you use race cynically,” Liz responds. Diane gets even angrier, swears a bunch, and then says “You want to come after me, you come after me with an honest argument about my lack of competence, my lack of worth.” Diane, you are fighting a completely different battle here! You can be entitled and also correct and also good at your job. This is what you used to accuse Alicia of all the time. The fact you’ve turned this into something about your skill level when it’s about the meaning of having a black firm is only proving Liz’s point.

“Your unworthiness—which you don’t seem to want to acknowledge—is that you can’t be the top dog in a black firm,” Liz says. Exactly. But Diane just storms off.

Now the cop is on the stand. He did not know the victim had a heart condition. Uh, obviously, why would he have known that?  

Liz is aggressive in court; Diane thinks this is the wrong strategy. Without knowing who is on the jury, I have no idea which one of them is correct.  

The next move is to get the cop’s ex-wife, who he abused, on the stand.  

Goodie, it’s cancel culture court. Things go well for Marissa, but Del wants to know why Marissa wasn’t that passionate about the n-word case. Marissa says she feels like it’s not the n-word, like that is a valid reason to not represent your client to the best of your ability. “It is. It always is,” says Del.  

Marissa heads back to RL, and as she walks, the camera follows her and moves through the space until we end up in Liz’s office, where she gets a news alert about the cop from the COTW. He’s been killed, seemingly in retaliation for his actions. The news is quick to suggest the trial might’ve encouraged the killing. “Oh, fuck.” Diane says as she watches the news. Aaaand credits (at 20 minutes in!)  

From the promos, I thought this was going to be a Very Serious Episode about police brutality. From the opening, I thought it was going to be an insufferable episode about cancel culture. I was wrong! (Though, I suppose, some of the cancel culture stuff is still insufferable.)  

Yay for Carrie Preston, who directed this episode. I read an interview with her and she talked about how there’s a “look book” for directing TGF episodes and I have never wanted to see anything as badly as I want to see this look book. (Am I exaggerating? Probably. But I might not be.)  

After credits, Marissa finds Carmen and Jay to ask them if “n-word-ly" is offensive. She acknowledges she’s being annoying but they let her continue anyway. Jay finds it offensive. Carmen does not. This seems fitting with their characters, and I love that this scene acknowledges that not every black person is going to have the exact same reaction to everything.  

I want Carmen to have more to do! While I’m glad the show isn’t forcing her to have a large role in every plot just because, I feel like she’s gone missing for the middle part of the season. My guess is that their priority with Carmen is setting her up to be an ongoing part of the cast who grows into being someone we want a lot from rather than forcing her plots from the start... but surely we could get a little more of her! I doubt she’s a one-season character like I assume Wackner will be.  

The cop’s murder changes the vibe in court. Abernathy calls a moment of silence in his memory. “We’re fucked,” Liz whispers to Diane.  

And indeed they are. The cop’s ex no longer wants to talk about how abusive he was—she wants to talk about how great he was. Whose idea was it to still put her on the stand?! Idk about legal procedures but this seems like a really avoidable mistake!

Diane argues that the cop’s death has prejudiced the jury. Abernathy decides to call a “voir dire de novo,” using an obtuse Latin phrase that would not be permitted in Wackner’s court. (Love the little parallels in this episode, like this, the transition between courts earlier, and how much of Marissa being called out on her whiteness feels like a thematic extension of everything going on with Diane.)

Cancel culture court continues. Carmen shows up.

I don’t really get how June, the victim of LCK2, potentially losing a headlining gig for a bad set instead of retaliation from LCK2, scores him a point. One, if she was a rising store, one bad set shouldn’t have damned her career. Two, isn’t it enough to prove that he masturbated in front of women who didn’t want him to do that???????  

Having June perform her act with no prep in Wackner’s court so they can judge whether or not she is funny is a wildly bad idea. So now Wackner is an arbiter of humor as well as cancel culture?  

This whole system is silly and I reject the whole premise but June should not lose two points for the logic that Wackner + the audience don’t find June funny --> June must’ve had her career derailed because she just isn’t funny (how’d she book the headliner gig, then?) --> LCK2 scores points??? He still masturbated in front of her without her consent!  

Using cancel culture to show Wackner’s court is going too far/slipping into bad territory: I’m on board with this. Using Wackner’s court to actually comment on cancel culture: Ugh. The writers seem to be trying to do both.  

Lol at Abernathy having Stacey Abrams’ book on his desk.

Marissa argues the n-word case more passionately, because these writers love to make situations that seemed clear cut seem more uncertain. It’s no coincidence they have the sexual harassment case look murkier (though, again, June being bad at comedy does not negate the sexual harassment!) right before they have the n-work case begin to tilt in favor of the professor’s cancellation.

Hahah what bullshit about trying to prepare the students for a world that won’t be kind to them. Do you seriously think your black students need YOU to prepare them?  

This lady thinks history classes have to describe rapes in detail to get students to sympathize. No, no they fucking do not.  

She also says she’d use the n-word if she were teaching a topic where it might come up. Um, no?

Mr. Elk (this is what I call Ted Willoughby, Idiot Reporter, after he said “things of that elk” in his first appearance) is attacking Diane and Liz on his show. Diane and Liz are, apparently, “Marxist slip-and-fall lawyers” and Mr. Elk plays a clip of Diane saying cops need to be held accountable. Obviously, this was before the cop’s death and meant to be about the legal system, but it looks like Diane’s calling for his murder. I also love how they go out of their way to only pause the clip on unflattering frames of Diane.  

Liz wants to use this in court—I forgot that Liz is super sneaky but this tracks; she is always quick to use things to her advantage and we’ve known that about her since her strategy with the DNC in 2x07 (to make outlandish allegations and then drop them before presenting proof). Julius wants to get Liz and Diane security.

That security is, apparently Jay. I think they’ve shown Jay as security before when Lucca went viral. I didn’t understand it then and I don’t understand it now.

I was, briefly, worried for Liz and Diane’s safety, especially after I saw all the angry cops waiting for them in court. Then I thought, oh, well at least they’re in court, they should be safe from being shot there. Then I remembered 5x15. Then I laughed at myself.  

Liz’s new strategy works and Abernathy uses more Latin. But, they can’t get any more jurors thrown. (They’re going for a mistrial.)

Oh, Carmen is back again! She did SO MUCH in that court scene where she appeared and then disappeared! She’s chatting with Marissa and spots LCK2 in the RL offices.  

Apparently, LCK2 negotiated a contract with Del, with David Lee’s help. (Why would David Lee be doing entertainment law?) Suddenly everything makes sense to Marissa.

She calls Del to the stand. This—and, honestly, everything after this—makes me wonder how much of this would ever make it to air. Why would Del televise this?

What a shock—Del wants LCK2 back on his streaming service (which I don’t think has a name LOL).  

Somehow Marissa’s questions become about Wackner and whether or not Wackner is an impartial judge, which doesn’t seem like the core issue. Wackner has made it pretty clear that his stance is that he doesn’t care if others are corrupt around him or try to use him; he’s going to be impartial no matter what. Why not play that up instead of making the entire show look staged and Wackner look complicit, Marissa?  

Like, why is Marissa asking Wackner if he’s prejudged the case?! Why isn’t she just trying to like, get him to declare a mistrial because there is a conflict of interest? She can make a version of this argument without accusing Wackner of PREJUDGING, which she knows—I know, so she knows—will set him off. Wackner truly believe he thinks he is impartial. It’s not smart strategy to question that (even if we all know that Wackner is not impartial!)

Wackner blows up at Marissa and shouts at her. He tells her to get the fuck out of court.

This is certainly dramatic, but again, would Del ever choose to air this? I doubt it.  

On her way to work, Diane notices hot pink spray paint in the elevator. When she exits the elevator, the whole firm is gathered in the lobby. Someone has painted COP KILLERS across the elevator bank. “Security doesn’t know how they got in,” Jay says. “Of course they don’t,” Diane responds. “They suggest we call the cops,” Jay says. I love this little exchange. I wasn’t exactly wondering how someone got in, but I like the show making it clear how unprotected Diane and Liz are right now and why.

Julius appears and says that Mr. Elk is saying something new. Diane and Liz sit down to watch and the tone of this episode completely shifts.  

I had forgotten completely that Liz’s dad’s assault issues are out in public until Mr. Elk called him “a disgraced civil rights leader.” It doesn’t feel like they’re out in public! Also I would believe Mr. Elk calling him disgraced for no reason at all.  

Y’all, when Mr. Elk said the name “Duke Roscoe,” my jaw dropped. WHAT A CALLBACK.  

This scene, and really, everything in this plot from here on out, is a delight. It just keeps going and going. It is the best kind of fanservice.

1x11 has been, for no real reason, on my mind since 5x04. It popped out to me as an example of this show’s humor so I talked about it in that recap. I nearly mentioned it in my 5x06 recap when Diane laughed at Julius’s suggestion that they start a firm together. I rewatched 1x11, by complete chance, like two weeks ago. How weird that I'm somehow on the show’s wavelength about this!  

Also I made a joke about Mr. Elk last week without knowing he’d be back this episode. I would like to think I conjured this.  

(1x11 is a really pivotal episode for TGW, even if it isn’t one of the most notable episodes overall. It's composer David Buckley’s first episode and that ending, with Diane laughing, is one of the earliest moments of TGW showing its sense of humor and playing to its strengths.)

Mr. Elk notes that they “rarely see” Kurt, which is apparently evidence that Diane is a lesbian. Hahahahahahah. Mr. Elk also wouldn’t want to note Kurt, despite his recent controversy, because to his viewers, Kurt’s beliefs would make Diane seem more sympathetic.  

GUYS, THE WRITERS DECIDED TO MAKE A CALLBACK TO AN ICONIC MOMENT FROM AN EPISODE THAT AIRED OVER A DECADE AGO AND THEN BUILD ON IT. I cannot express how fucking happy this makes me.  

Now, Mr. Elk says, Diane and Liz are an item!  

What’s better than Diane laughing hysterically at the original allegations? Diane doing it again, eleven years later, JOINED BY LIZ.  

This also works super well to cut the tension between Diane and Liz. I assume this isn’t the end of the name partnership drama, but I think it might be the end of Diane and Liz being pissed at each other. Since the name partnership drama was never really about Diane and Liz (Liz seems to want Diane to stay on...), I’m fine with that.  

Because this is an episode full of callbacks that delight me, Del asks Liz when he gets to meet her son! HER SON STILL EXISTS!  

It sounds like Liz and Del still aren’t fully official, which clarifies why they don’t seem to be a couple in public.  

Del brings up the Diane rumor (jokingly) and Liz jokes along. I love that we get to see this playful side of Liz.  

Wackner’s watching his outburst with regret. Del calms him down and notes that this is good TV (why... would Del air this... it makes DEL look worse than anyone!). Wackner calls Marissa to apologize; she picks up and accepts his apology.  

Abernathy calls Liz and Diane into chambers. He’s worried he was “insensitive”-- he's noticed the tension between Liz and Diane, but now he thinks it was a lover’s spat.

Diane puts on a poker face and leans in towards Liz. She starts nodding attentively and thanks Abernathy. Liz smiles and doubles down: she’s not just going to play along, she’s going to milk it. She gets a juror kicked for homophobia, which means a mistrial. Shameless. I love it.  

Diane and Liz playing off each other as Abernathy tries to look like as much of an ally as possible is comedy gold.  

Diane even calls Liz darling. Omg.  

LCK2 is on the stand, being charismatic and annoying. Of course he is. This is what happens when you give someone who is known for being able to connect with a crowd... a crowd and the benefit of the doubt.

LCK2 is talking about “stupid women” in his new set. Why... is Del giving that a platform at all? See, the fact that Del thinks it is not only interesting but also somehow essential to let LCK2 make jokes about sexual harassment is why I can’t take this episode seriously. Why should I be more outraged about someone who did something shitty not getting a trial for his shitty but legal behavior than I am about powerful people continuing to offer shitty people platforms? Only one of these seems outrageous to me.

Wackner decides that the professor did something “awful but lawful” and that’s it. So you’re saying that if it isn’t illegal, it doesn’t get decided in your court, either? What was the point of this, then?  

The professor says she doesn’t want that—she wants the school to know she’s being punished so she can get her job back. The student storms out, rightfully. Wackner’s job isn’t to offer someone who wants punishment some form of penance, like she can exchange community service hours for offensive remarks. It’s to... well, idk what it is to do, since this whole thing doesn’t really make sense and he makes the rules, but I don’t think his verdict has to be about giving anyone what they want. I’m disappointed that Wackner comes up with a punishment and I don’t think it’s going to get her her job back.  

LCK2 loses, too, because he hasn’t made amends. Wackner doesn’t want to fine him because he’s too rich for a fine to matter. Cord argues that LCK2 deserves a second chance. I mean, sure, but is he being denied a second chance? He doesn’t deserve an easy path back to his fame just because he wants it.  

Wackner mentions prison. At first I was like, oh, that’s a nice throwaway line that he mentioned prison! This ties into what I was saying a few weeks ago about how Wackner likes the institutions that already exist—he just thinks they’re imperfect! It’s fitting that he’s not a prison abolitionist!  

And then the episode actually went there: Wackner, thanks to David Cord’s private prison company, actually sentences LCK2 to prison. This is deeply uncomfortable (and of questionable legality). Wackner’s system is just going to recreate prison? Worse, private prison? He’s creating an unchecked, privatized legal system?! This sounds bad! Kudos to the show for taking this to some place so dark—I knew Wackner’s system would start to show cracks, but I didn’t realize they’d go this far.  

And I’m not sure what the end game is with this! All I know is I’m not on board with Wackner sending people to prison (except as a plot—I am very on board with this plot) and neither is Marissa.

I do not think viewers of the reality show will like the prison twist or the fact that Cord is financing a court and prison! Can you imagine the scandal!

And what do the contracts look like that allow Wackner to sentence someone to prison? Can LCK2 leave any time he wants? If so, then how does the prison sentence help? If not, is that legal?  

Del wants it to be a 2 week sentence, not 3, because this means LCK2 will have to miss his taping in two weeks. I have many questions. (1) Is Wackner’s show airing live? If not, then why do they need to rush the taping of the special? They could push it quite easily. (2) Why can’t they push the taping? This guy is a huge deal and enough potential $$ that Del wants to rehabilitate his career... so why does the taping have to be on this particular day and time?  

Is there really an Exxon Mobile case, I wonder?  

I like that we spend a good amount of time watching Marissa’s reactions to this latest addition to Wackner’s court. Combined with the score, Marissa’s facial expression serves to underline that private prisons are not good here! This isn’t Wackner getting legitimate methods of enforcement... this is just opening a pandora’s box of highly questionable extrajudicial practices.  

I do love that this episode ends up here: it starts out like it’s going to be about cancel culture silliness and ends up being about the escalation of Wackner’s tactics.

Funny how both of the cancelled people end up being found guilty by Wackner, huh! Almost like they actually did something wrong and faced the consequences!  

Liz and Diane get called in to talk to Liz’s favorite department: HR. They’re asked to sign “love contracts” to confirm things are consensual. I find it hilarious that HR gives them the paper before even asking if it’s true.  

Liz grabs a pen and signs. Diane follows her lead. They look at each other and smile politely at HR.

I am... not sure how to read this last scene! Is it a fuck-you to HR? A way of easing tensions? A way for Liz to get people to stop talking to her about removing Diane as name partner because no one will want to ask if they’re really involved? Something else? Help me understand!

Curious to see where things go next. I can see LCK2 coming back for another episode but it also wouldn’t surprise me to never see him again. Similarly, I could see some glances/discussion of Diane and Liz’s romantic relationship next week, or I could see it never being mentioned again, or I could see it being mentioned next season out of the blue.  

[unknownwriting]

Ruin Our Friendship

[Part 2]

Summary: Poor Ace has fallen head over heels for his best friend but he's scared that he'll ruin their friendship if he tells her. (pt. 1)  

Characters: Portgas D. Ace

Song Inspiration: Jenny by Studio Killers

Work count: 1.6k

Notes: Omg I love Ace so much and I miss him so much too. I wish I could find more fanfics with him ☹️

━━☆⌒*.

Loud music and laughed filled the college bar, as everyone celebrated the beginning of the weekend. It's not rare to have parties like these every Friday, the weekend is the only free time said students can relax and party. While shouts of laughter ring from the happy drunk, cries of stress and sadness can be heard from the sad drunks too. One sound of drunken cries can be heard from a college regular who always companied with his friends. Portgas D. Ace, a junior in college who seems to be having a bit a girl problems at the moment.

"I just don't understand why this has to be so hard. Why can't I just tell her!?" The jet-black haired male cried out slamming his beer onto the bar, along with his head. His friends looked down at him, all thinking the same question.

"You've never had trouble before. Just tell her, she probably won't even shoot you down. And if she does, a bunch of other girls would be happy with you." His close friend Thatch tried to soothe the younger man with his girl problems. It was true though, Ace never seemed to have any problems with any girl so what made this girl so special. Why can't he just come out and say it?

"I wanna but (Y/n)'s my best friend and if she doesn't like me, it's just gonna make things soooo awkward." Ace exclaimed picking his head back up and looking over at Thatch. With his ears ringing from the noise and his head hurting from the alcohol, he found it hard to think straight. Ace didn't mean for the night to go this away either but after a few cups, he just couldn't help himself from talking about it. It's been a while since he first fell in love with his best friend and the feelings don't seem to be fading anytime soon, they only continued to grow. Although he's dated others before these feels seem to be so new to him, he couldn't help but overthink them. At one point, he honestly thought he had heart failure. His eyes fell back down to his beer as he mumbled, "I don't wanna ruin our friendship..."

"Then don't." Another voice, Macro, chimed in as he's finished his drink. The others looked at him clearly confused and raised an eyebrow.

"Huh?" Seeing how the 2 of them didn't understand at all, Marco sighed as he began to explain what he means.

"Decide whether or not you wanna date her. Because being friends and being lovers are 2 different things. So make sure you wanna actually date her before you make your move." Marco explained, clearing up the confusion for Thatch but not for Ace. He still looked at Marco with confusion. Ace knows (Y/n) like the back of his hand, so why would she be any different from his lover. Now that Marco tried to explain his thoughts, Thatch took over hopefully to clear up at least some of the confusion.

"Take her on a practice date."

"A practice date?"

"Yeah. Invite her to an amusement park or a movie and see how it goes. Just make sure you don't bring up it being a practice date and all." Thatch explained. Ace looked at him, slowly coming around to the idea, and once he was able to understand the idea his eyes lit up. It wasn't a bad idea, going on a date with (Y/n). He thought about how it would be a go on a date with her and how cute she would end up being. However, the more he thought about the idea didn't make much sense to him after all. Wouldn't it just be like going to an amusement park with his best friend?

"Uh...but isn't that the same as hanging out with her?" Ace questioned already feeling sober. The idea completely sobered him up, as if he hadn't had any beer tonight.

"Tell her that you are inviting her to a date and I promise you it won't feel the same." Thatch laughed, slapping Ace's back, "If you tell a girl it's a date I guarantee she's gonna be a completely different person."

"But you said not to tell her it a-"

"Just ask her!"

ミ☆

After a long night of Macro and Thatch trying to help out their dense friend, they finally got Ace to ask (Y/n) out. It took a bit longer for him to build up the guts to ask her but it didn't come as a surprise when she ended up saying yes. Marco and Thatch heard of (Y/n), they've seen her around school and heard so many stories about her from Ace. They haven't met yet with her being a year below Ace, but they already knew what she was like. Of course, she was gonna say yes because she's just that nice of a person, even though the date was very last minute. With Ace going on a date, the 3 of them had called it an early night and helped Ace with a few things, like buy the tickets and planning out his outfit. Once all of that was done, all Ace has to do is go on this date with his best friend, which sounds more stressful than it was. He ended up arriving a bit early but it wasn't long till (Y/n) had shown up.

"Ya'know, I was a bit surprised when you asked me on a date. I almost thought you didn't have it in you." (Y/n) teases as she walked up to Ace, who leaned against the railing of the entrance, scrolling through his phone. Once her cheery voice filled his ears though, he quickly perked up and dropped his phone to his side.

"Didn't have it in me?" Ace questioned, raising an eyebrow and checking (Y/n) out. Thatch was right, mention 'date' to any girl and they will certainly prepare for it. She wore a simple outfit: shorts, a cute top, and a long cardigan to cover up. She's never been on for accessories but a small backpack covered her back. It really wasn't any different from an outfit she would wear to class but there was something about her now that just seemed different. Maybe it was the glow of her skin, or the bright smile on her pink stained lips, or the sparkle in her (e/c) eyes. It was as if Ace was seeing her for the first time again. That's when the nerves kicked in. His heart began to race, butterflies began to set in his stomach and his palms began to turn all sweaty. It was obvious that Ace had it bad. Real bad.

"Well seeing how dense you are, I just-"

"You look so pretty." Ace had blurted out, cutting (Y/n) off. Not only did he cut her off but it completely caught her off guard too. A small blush crept up to her cheeks and she let the compliment sink in. (Y/n) took a moment too long because Ace began to worry and definitely began to panic. The date had barely even started and he already messed up. But before he could even think about it long, (Y/n) giggled softly and smiled back up at Ace.

"You think so? I wasn't sure what to wear so I chose to keep it simple. I didn't want to show up too fancy when all we're doing is going to an amusement park." (Y/n) happily explained, loving the comment so much. It was that reaction that gave Ace the boost of confidence he needed. With the butterflies still in his stomach, he smiled brightly down at her thinking that maybe the feelings just might be mutual. Maybe (Y/n) could feel the same way about Ace.

"W-we should probably get going then. I don't want the lines to get long." Ace cleared his throat, as he turned on his heel and faced the entrance. (Y/n) raised an eyebrow at his suddenly shy behavior, but seeing how she somewhat already knew what the reason was, she didn't press the matter. A teasing smirk fell over her lips as her eyes trailed down to Ace's hand that hug at his side. This was a date, after all, might as well treat it like one. Jumped right to his side, (Y/n) grabbed his large, warm hand and intertwined her fingers with his, sending chills down her back. Before Ace could even react, (Y/n) laughed out loud and began to skip off with Ace's warm hand still in hers.

"Let's go ride all the rides!!" (Y/n) cheered loudly, dragging a confused Ace behind her. Once he finally realized what the situation was, his face burst into a million shades of red. The last thing he had expect was to feel her hands within his. His heart began to race as he took a moment to just try and process. Ace didn’t think (Y/n) would act like this one a date, whenever the 2 of then hung out (Y/n) would always end up commenting on how she doesn’t need a boyfriend. So it’s safe to say that was one of Ace’s concerns, she always says that so what makes Ace thinks that she would say yes. Yet here they are holding hands and going on a date, something (Y/n) said she wouldn’t have time for. Although all those thoughts seem to disappear when he felt her hands within his. They were so soft and warm and felt so small in his. Filling her hands oddly made him relax and calm down. With a sigh of relief, Ace caught up with (Y/n) so he wasn’t stumbling and smiled down at her. 

Maybe today will but just as he imagined

[taetaespeaches]

“Are you always this much of a brat?”

jungkook x reader genre: fluff (college au) word count: 2K

a/n: I wrote this for my lovely angel, @babeejeon​. This is not part of the long-term couple! This is just film student Jungkook and student reader working on a class project together. This is pretty unedited so good luck, y’all! I hope you enjoy and thanks for reading! :)) 

YOU knew the dude was cute. You’d known that since the first day of class. However, eyeing him from a few seats away as he focused on taking notes, his eyes squinted to see the projector screen, was a lot different than seeing him in action as he concentrated on the camera screen, his eyebrows pulled together. The man was stunning.

Breaking character, a small smile formed on your lips as you were supposed to be looking solemnly ahead. Jungkook let out a sound of frustration as you giggled. “I’m sorry, you just look so serious, Mr. Director Man.”

“I am serious,” he defended with a boyish smile. “I’m trying to get us a high mark, remember?” You playfully rolled your eyes as he shook his head at you. You and Jungkook were partnered together for a film assignment in your digital story telling class, an assignment you had been worried about all semester as you didn’t have an ounce of film experience. Fortunately for you, Jungkook was actually a film major, which made you feel infinitely more confident in the project.

When he found out you wrote, he easily came up with the idea to make a film about one of your stories, you as the subject with a voiceover of your narration. Little did either of you know, you were almost physically incapable of filming a scene for five seconds without breaking into laughter, which was not a great visual to put with your “sad boi writing,” as you had dubbed it when explaining it to Jungkook.

“Ok, I didn’t think I’d be this bad in front of a camera, but I have seen your films, Kook. I still have total faith in you to pull this off,” you complimented him.  

Giving you an unconvinced nod, he looked around the street, planning the next shot. “I think we’re almost done, maybe just one more shot of you walking away from the camera and I’ll follow you.”

“Ah, a scene I can’t screw up,” you grinned. “Good thinking Mr. Director.” He chuckled again, and you decided right then and there you had never seen a prettier smile before.

Set up for the shot, you waited for Jungkook’s cue to start the scene. “Ok, walk,” he shouted out to you, however, you stubbornly refused to move. “Walk,” he yelled louder.

“You’re a director, Jungkook,” you shouted back, looking over your shoulder at him. “Say action.”

“Are you always this much of a brat?” He questioned teasingly, you throwing your head back in amusement.

“Kind of,” you shouted to him, Jungkook chuckling at you.  

“Are you ready?” He asked, you nodding exaggeratedly so he’d see it. “Ok, action.”

You began walking, however, five seconds into filming the shot, you tripped on a crack in the sidewalk, though catching yourself easily. Turning around you found Jungkook with a wide-eyed stare and you began laughing loudly, drawing the attention of the people walking by.

“Jesus,” Jungkook breathed out through his laughter as he approached you. “At least you’re a good writer.”

“Thank you,” you smiled, taking the backhanded compliment. “Did we get some ok footage at least?”

“I think we can make it work. I mean, you look good on camera,” he told you, a blush instantly heating his cheeks, as he looked down at the camera, looking over a piece of his film.

“I do?” You pressed annoyingly with a wide grin, Jungkook’s shy smile directed toward the camera as he avoided your gaze. “You look good behind the camera,” you told him, sincerity laced in your tone. “Like you belong there.”

His doe-like eyes softened as he looked at you in surprise. “Thanks,” he said simply before turning the camera off. “I think we got it.”

STEPPING into a café near campus that many college students frequented, you quickly scanned the room, doing a double take on the very man who had been occupying your mind for most of the semester. He had taken up a permanent residency in there since you started working with him on this film project, and the sight of him sitting across the café from you had your heart racing.

Forgetting completely about the drink you came to order and take to-go, you started toward Jungkook, his eyes lifting from his computer screen just enough to catch you in his eye line, doing a double take of his own.

His eyes widened in what almost looked like panic as he ripped his ear buds of out his ears, sitting up straighter in his seat.

“Fancy meeting you here,” you greeted with a smile, your eyes looking from Jungkook to his computer to the notebook he had sitting open next to the keypad.

“Hey,” he said back, still coming down from his surprise, a faint smile on his lips. Your eyes glanced over the notebook just barely catching the title of your short story for your digital storytelling class scrawled onto the top of the page.

Your eyes lit up in excitement at the realization. “Are you editing right now?”

“I-yeah, but it’s not done,” he told you with a panicked edge in his voice.

“How is it so far? Did the footage turn out ok?” You asked.

“Uh,” he started with a small breathy laugh. “You’re smiling and laughing in most of it.” You stared at him with a serious expression, understanding that was not a good thing. “Yeah, we might have to reshoot,” he told you, looking at the computer screen as he clicked through different scenes.

“Fuck, really?”

His eyes flashed up to inspect your face, noting your concern. “Yeah,” he told you with a sympathetic expression.

“I’m a bad actress,” you pouted, Jungkook grinning as he shook his head.

“No, you’re really not,” he told you sincerely. “Kinda think you were born to be in front of a camera.”

Holding back a smile, you dropped your gaze to the table. “What if I gave you a happier story? I could re-narrate.”

“You have another piece?”

“Let me see the footage.”

He pulled the top of his laptop down a bit defensively, to which you glared at him. “I didn’t know you were so protective of your work,” you teased.

“I’m usually not,” he said quietly.

Pausing a moment, you cocked your head at him thoughtfully. “Am I that bad?” You giggled, Jungkook shaking his head immediately in protest before realizing you were kidding. Pink tinted his cheeks as he flashed you a small smile with a scoff.

“It’s really rough right now. I only have a fifteen second intro and then the rest of it just doesn’t fit the vibe of your writing,” he explained, frustration taking over his features.

“Oh the vibes, huh?” You smiled. “Well we gotta get the right vibes, bro, let me look.” Jungkook laughed, his eyes meeting yours for a moment before they glanced back down to the computer. “I’m gonna have to see it eventually, Kook.”

Letting out a big sigh, Jungkook ticked his head to the side. Wordlessly, he opened his laptop wider before handing you one of his ear buds, placing the opposite one in his own ear. “Like I said, I only have 15 seconds done, but there is music,” he told you. “To capture the vibes,” he added with a smile.

“Love music,” you said stupidly, trying to ease his nerves as you sat down next to him and pushed the ear bud into place. “Blow me away, Spielberg.” He chuckled before pressing play, resting his chin in his hand as he nervously awaited your reaction.

Your eyes were glued to the screen as a slow lo-fi kind of beat started playing into your left ear. The screen faded from black to a shot of the sunrise glowing through the street, people walking in and out of the shot on the busy weekday morning.

The scene cut to a close up of your side profile, your hair blowing into your face before you pushed it back, your hand and wrist partially covering your features from the viewers. The camera cut to a zoomed out shot of you from the same angle, showing you seated on the curb of the street.

Next, the shot showed you from across the street, your melancholic expression on display as cars drove in front of you, cutting you in and out of the frame.

The music continued to play as the next shot displayed a closer view of your somber stare, however, it suddenly broke into you smirking as Jungkook’s groan sounded overtop the music. Your laugh played through the ear bud, followed by Jungkook’s giggle.

The following shots were meticulously pieced together shots of you breaking character, making faces into the camera, throwing your head back as the sounds of yours and Jungkook’s laughter mixed overtop the soothing beat. It didn’t take a videography expert to notice how the shots faded in and out skillfully. Jungkook had taken his time putting the film together.

“I thought you said it wasn’t done,” you said softly, eyes still on the screen as your heart raced at the footage. It was shot so… romantically.

“It’s not,” he defended as if being accused of something.

“But it’s amazing,” you told him, peeling your eyes from the screen to look at him. “I’m serious, you were made to do this.”  

“Your story doesn’t fit though,” he told you quietly, a pink tint on his cheeks as your gaze fell to his lips.

There was a delay before you turned to take your backpack off, digging inside for a moment. Looking back to Jungkook to see him watching you, you held your journal up. Flipping through to the most recent entry, you placed it in front of him, allowing him to tentatively take it from your hands.

You watched as he read over the words, poetic in their form and romantic in their intent. His lips curved at the corners as he read further, taking in the sentences about his passion for film and how watching his eyes as he filmed a scene could convince you to take up videography as a hobby yourself. You wrote about his bright eyes and the crinkles that formed around them when he flashed his beaming smile. He took in the words that described how you became weightless when he was around, and if he didn’t reach for your hand soon you’d float into the clouds and never return to earth.

Finishing the piece, he looked up at you with wide eyes and a flattered grin, though you could tell he didn’t want to assume.

“Yeah, it’s about you,” you told him with an embarrassed breathy chuckle. “And from what I just watched, I’m pretty sure this writing will fit right into this film.”

He nodded slowly, looking back down at the journal, scanning the words once more. You watched his lips as he did so, aching to feel their touch.

“But if we don’t have to refilm, how will I find an excuse to hang out with you more?” he teasingly asked, looking toward you to notice you staring at his mouth.

“Good question,” you whispered. “Maybe you could kiss me and then take me out on a proper date,” you suggested.

“In that order?” He asked, his hand reaching up to cradle the side of your face, his thumb soothing over your cheek.

“Yes, please,” you barely spoke.

Leaning, in, he wore a smile just before your lips met. His hovered over yours for a moment before you impatiently leaned into him, catching his lips. He easily fell into the kiss, opening his mouth slightly against yours, just enough to show you how badly he had been wanting this moment with you. Your hands grabbed onto waist as he pulled away reluctantly, not wanting to break the kiss but aware that you were in a very public café.

“Fuck,” he whispered out, you giggling in response. “I wanna do that again.”

“Jeez, Jeon, take me out first,” you teased before leaning toward him again, catching his lips in a soft, sweet peck.

The man smiled against your mouth before kissing you repeatedly. “I will take you out,” he whispered. “Over,” he kissed you, “and over,” another kiss, “and over,” and another kiss, making you giggle into the action, “and over again,” he promised.

Smiling, you gave a single nod of your head. “I like the sound of that, Mr. Director.”

[saphirered]

Hey! I hope you’re doing well. You’re writing is always great and I get excited when I see you’ve posted something new. Would you consider writing a little something with platonic Caduceus and reader where they have similar personalities and interests, but different backgrounds? Maybe the reader doesn’t have any family to speak of? I’m open to any character class or race :) thank you!

I’m doing well. I’m glad you like my writing and thank you. It’s really nice to hear people get excited when I post new things. I never expected people to like it at all 🙈.  I hope you like the way this one turned out 😘

You were typical city folk. Born and raised in the heights of civilisation; the pride and joy of the Law Bearer Erathis herself. Raised at the temple of the Raven Queen as a foundling the clergy were the only parental figures you knew and they were hardly parents. Your relationship with them is less of a parent-child dynamic. They were your caretakers and supported which is more than a lot of people can say but you missed out on parental pride, love and the ability to confide in someone in such a way. You missed out on the relation with siblings. No running around the hallways of the temple, no secrets between just you and them, no protective older sibling or a younger one that gets away with everything. You had no weird aunt or uncle to tell you ridiculous stories or take you on adventures every so often like the books you’d read as a child. 

Your childhood never bothered you because it was good and happy, just in a different way. You found a mother figure in the Matron. You’d get dreams sometimes, waking up with a single black feather on your pillow. She gave you an appreciation of all things living. Death is a sacred thing but it’s the life that counts. You made it your goal to nourish that what needs a little extra attention and preserve what can be saved before its time, conforming to the natural order. The Matron of Ravens taught you death is just as sacred as life and so you valued it and vowed to upkeep her commandments and preserve that natural order of life and death. 

As a child you spent much time within the public parks and gardens. You had an affinity unrivalled. Making flowers blossom in spring and keeping the branches and roots healthy during the colder months, curing diseases, healing ailments as well as returning to the earth what once came from it upon the passing. When you were old enough these habits carried over to ‘living things’; a term you had to disagree with because all that grows lives. You became part of the clergy and continued your life within the temple of the Raven Queen. 

You were never confined to the temple life. Your work took you far and wide, your expertise wanted by the many. You had tended to the ailments of kings as you had commoner, treating no different. You had tended to the pristine gardens of royalty as you had the fields of a farmer. In the eyes of the natural order all lives are equal in the end and so you treated them in life. 

When a group of strangers came knocking at your door looking for an expert you were surprised by the colourful bunch on your doorstep but heard them out regardless. You were faced with the story of a cursed forest, a sanctuary of the natural order to be disturbed, a family missing and a new one found. A story of beacons of endless stars, possibilities and souls of the preserved to be reborn, conflict, war and death. Stories of salvation, resurrection, a fight to preserve the natural order and save the lives of the many. Stories far and wide yet to be told.

You were needed. Your expertise was needed and when a raven landed on your windowsill staring at you, studying you and awaiting your response you knew it was time to leave behind the life you knew and venture into a strange new world of adventure and the unknown. How could you turn them down? Your help was needed and while the venture might be a bit longer and much riskier than your usual ones, the task remained the same. You’d travel with the Mighty Nein for a while and aid them for however long they needed you. 

You grew to love the Mighty Nein like the family you never had but you have to say from the very beginning you felt a natural gravitation towards the colourful firbolg, a radiance akin to that of the life you vowed to preserve. Caduceus did not hide he felt a same sort of gravitation towards you. The two of you were often paired together on watches or went out together to stock up on supplies for the road, spell components and the likes. The two of you while at first glance are day and night, as your respective deities are when compared, but those who look closer know you are in a way, one and the same. 

You’re sitting on the jungle floor eyes closed listening to the nocturnal critters make their way through, searching for food, hunting and finding their hideouts, burrows and nests before the sun rises and morning comes. A smile on your face, as you take everything in over the soft snoring and slight twisting and turning of some of the Nein. You hear someone sitting down next to you. 

“Good morning.” You say peaking through one eye seeing the pink haired firbolg cup of tea in hand. The two of you had always been and probably always will be the early risers of the group. Old habits? Perhaps so.

“Ah, it is, isn’t it?” He offers you a cup of tea. You take it with a quick thanks blowing away the steam and cool it down a little before you take a sip. A good cup of tea never fails to wake you up properly. 

“How are you feeling? Getting closer to where the Wild Mother has been sending you?” The two of you look out seeing the first light barely bleed through the trees. Caduceus waits a little before speaking, contemplating his answer. His brow furrows. 

“I’m unsure.” Caduceus mentally retreats just a little bit, watching his expression you can see the thoughts rush through his head. You know he worries for his family and how you might find them. A lot is unsure at these times. You can only hope for the best and prepare for the worst but you have faith. 

“You’re worried, for your family. For what might have become of them?” He gives you a bit of a smile and nods. It’s clear Caduceus hasn’t directly been faced with the notion of mortality in this sense close to home whereas in any other situation he’d be fine. 

“I’ve been waiting to see them for a long time. While I trust the Wild Mother’s path, I can’t help but find myself doubting if they are well.” You try to find a way to best approach his concerns and ease his mind. The words of comfort either of you would offer to those coming into your respective places of worship do not apply to this situation nor would they be particularly helpful. You’re not dealing with the dead, just the possibility of death of loved ones. 

“You trust her path and you believe she’s at your side?” You ask deep in thought as a light breeze rushes through out of nowhere. The Wild Mother must be listening. Caduceus relaxes a bit more knowing she’s there. Despite what some may think, the breeze may just tell you what you need to know.

“Yes. I believe so.” He smiles watching the leaves blow, the breeze being carried away into the distance of the early morning jungle, a couple of birds scattering as it comes along. 

You take a moment, close your eyes and reach out your senses sending a little prayer to the Raven Queen. You’re met with a sense of warmth, a soft cawing of a raven flying away and a small light in the darkness. 

“Then they’ll be alright in the end. I don’t sense my Matron’s presence in relation to you. You’ll be reunited with your family once more.” You interpret the signs she shows you. While they might not be a certainty you have faith she would not let you down.

“That’s nice.” You return to staring into the jungle in comfortable silence for a while. 

“What do you miss the most? About home and your family I mean.” You ask a bit out of the blue but you couldn’t help yourself wondering with everything drawing closer and the uncertainty of how you’ll find the Stone family, and what you’ll encounter there. 

“Old habits. The people. The simplicity of life. I’d say the piece and quiet but that wouldn’t be entirely true. Just different kind of noise. You know what I mean.” Caduceus reminisces, dopey smile returning at the memory of his family. You’ve heard some of the tales of his shenanigans when it comes to his siblings. He’s confided in you and you vowed to keep those a secret. Who knew Caduceus could be quite the prankster?

“I don’t actually. I never had a family like yours. The Mighty Nein is the closest I’ve ever gotten to the meaning of a family.” You look over to the sleeping shapes. You wouldn’t trade them for the world but can’t deny it’s still not the same. The others can attest to that. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I apologise if I offended you.” You smile at him. You’d stated before you loved your found ‘family’, the clergy but they were never your real family. It just hadn’t come up your dynamic with them was not the same as a more typical even dysfunctional family. 

“It’s quite alright. I never knew my birth family. I knew the clergy at my temple and that’s alright. I always wondered what it would be like to have parents to confide in, siblings to spend time with, perhaps even share interests with and people who love me unconditionally, people like me but also not. Do you get what I mean?” Caduceus nods in agreement and thinks for a second.

“I understand. Though you might come to take back the part about wanting to spend more time with siblings. They’ll grow on you like ivy in places you don’t want it.” He laughs a little and you join him. 

“They can’t be that bad.” You joke the both of you laughing as quietly as you can trying not to wake the others up. 

“I’d love to meet your family. From what you’ve told they’re wonderful.” 

“They are, in their own ways but don’t tell Calliope I said that.” Caduceus bumps your shoulder and you bump back finishing the last of your tea. You’ve heard enough tales of Calliope to know you better not tell her or she might never let Caduceus forget he admitted it so openly to someone else outside of the family. 

“I’m sure they’d like you too. If you wanted to you could come back to the Blooming Grove with us one day. Clarabelle always wanted another sibling. She thinks Calliope is a bit too stoic. The two of you would make great friends.” Caduceus finishes his tea and you’re a little taken aback. You look for any kind of jest. He must be joking right?

“You’re serious?” Caduceus laughs a little at your reaction. 

“Unless you don’t want to. I think you’ll fit in right along. Our ancestor used to be a champion of the Raven Queen. She might appreciate the return of a new Clay. Not by blood but by heart.” You recall the story he once told about the champions Stone, Dust and Clay of the Matron. You feel a pull in your heart out of nowhere and swear you hear a raven’s caw in the back of your mind. She’d be satisfied. 

“I’d like that very much if they’ll have me.” With Caduceus reassurance his family would very much like you and get along with you you’d see where this would go. Perhaps you would become an unofficial Clay. Your friends are just your chosen family after all so why should it be different? 

You’ll see where your path leads and you’ll stick with Caduceus until either of you grow tired of each other. Not that either of you see that happen. You’ve grown thick as thieves to the point where you could call yourselves siblings. If the two of you claiming yourselves siblings extends into his family then you’d love nothing more. 

A place. A purpose. A home. You’ll have to put the world back into tune first but once the Matron and the Mother call you both home you’ll stick to the path until homeward bound you both be. Both of you lost in thought come to the same conclusion. Caduceus pours the both of you some new tea, cooling it down a bit you both take a sip.

“That’s nice.” You say in unison watching the nocturnal critters go to sleep and the early risers come out and go about their daily business. 

[jenonctcity]

My Ending - Part 2

Differences – Na Jaemin

Part of the Bad Boy Series.

Badboy!Au, Streetracer!Au

Disclaimer: This is going to be a very dark themed story, please do not read if you are triggered easily by the mentioned subjects in the warnings.

Warnings: Minor Character Death, Mentions of Suicide Attempts, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, Mental Health Issues (Depression and Anxiety), Mentions of Drug Use/Overdose, Mentions of Drug Addiction Effecting Baby After Birth, Explicit Content.

Word Count: 8.3K

It was only a small lie. A teensy, tiny, white lie that couldn’t hurt anyone. And it boosted Jaemin’s confidence enough for him to flirt like he wasn’t unexperienced. He had no idea how Renjun had managed to lie so much throughout his life. Every time Jaemin made up stories of fucking random girls, he felt a burning fire in the pit of his stomach from the guilt of lying about it. Still, he didn’t see the harm in lying about being a virgin. He knew the only time it would matter would be when he got a girlfriend, which is why he decided to be transparent and tell you the truth instead of lying. You gave him a raised eyebrow and wide-eyed look. He tilted his head at your reaction and gave you a knowing smirk.

“You’re a virgin?” Your voice came out higher pitched than you had expected it to, causing Jaemin to laugh softly, nodding his head in confirmation.

“I am.” He leaned in and kissed your lips hard, overcome with want for you that he couldn’t stop himself from stealing your lips in his. “Does it bother you?” He mumbled into your mouth, his hot tongue pushing against yours as his hands stroked up your thighs to your hips, his fingers digging into you from how tight his grip was.

“No, it’s kinda hot actually.” You mumbled, not drawing away from his lips. He made a deep noise that rumbled from his throat, his kisses moving from your mouth, down your jaw, and to your neck. Your eyelids became heavy as he sucked at your sensitive spot, his tongue swirling around sinfully and his hot breath coming out in puffs against you, sending shivers down your spine. “Why though? You’re so confident and flirty surely you can get any girl in bed?” He chuckled against your neck and pulled away, his lips red and glistening with spit.

“I’ve never had a girlfriend before, and I didn’t want to have sex with some random girl who would forget my name the next day.” He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips as his fingers worked in slow circles on your waist. You felt your heart bloom like a flower in the spring at his confession, your bottom lip coming out in a pout.

“Jaemin that’s so cute, you’re adorable.” You took his face in both of your hands, squishing his cheeks together and making his own lips form into a pout. He whined and tried to draw his head back, his cheeks flaring up bright red from being called adorable. The only person who had ever called him adorable was his grandmother, and that hadn’t been for many years. “Have you ever done…like other stuff with girls though?” You tilted your head in wonder, your thoughts drifting as Jaemin’s tongue poked out between his pouted lips. You let go of his face and instead placed your hands gently on his shoulders.

“Yeah I’ve been sucked off before and eaten some pussy.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal when in fact your heart started racing at the thought of his tongue in your intimate areas. “Have you had sex?” The question was nagging at his mind until he finally couldn’t take it anymore and had to ask you.

“I have, only like three times though with my ex-boyfriend.” You smiled and shrugged. “It was…mediocre, he cared more about his own orgasms.”

“Men aint shit baby girl.” Jaemin whispered, stealing a kiss from your lips again as a loud laugh erupted from you at the irony of his choice of words.

“But you’re a man?” You narrowed your eyes in amusement, his teeth on full display as he gave you a big cheeky grin.

“I’m not like other men though.” He winked, leading you to fake gag from the cheesiness, his fingers digging into your sides and tickling you as a punishment. “Just you wait and see!” He pushed you onto your back, your head hitting his pillows and his body slotting between your legs. You felt a firework of butterflies go off in your stomach from how having his body there made you feel. He reached over you, placing his hands on the bed either side of your neck, your body now completely caged in by his.

“I’m excited to see what you can do.” You smirked up at him, raising your eyebrows suggestively. His cheeks glowed pink and he bit his bottom lip, his eyes boring into yours without breaking contact even for a second. “Virgin.” You sniggered, his mouth dropping open as he sat back, faking offence and letting out a gasp. His hands finding your sides again to tickle you mercilessly. As he tickled you, he couldn’t help but realise that he’d met his dream girl. You weren’t afraid to tease him, you were kind, and you and him just instantly clicked. He didn’t want to voice his thoughts just in case you weren’t both on the same page, but he was almost 100% sure that you were going to be the girl to take his virginity.

---

Having a newborn baby in your arms was strange. Also a blessing, as not everyone would get to experience the wonder of holding a new life in their arms until they had their own children. Her smooth skin, fluffy black hair which she had a surprising amount of, her tiny fingers, and the little noises that would emit from her when she moved around in her sleep to get comfortable had you feeling soft. In the past two months of dating Jaemin you honestly could say that you’d beenhappier than you had in a long time. Jaemin was a whirlwind of everything perfect. He was the best boyfriend you could possibly ask for. His pores seeped with romance and affection, he was funny, and he did everything he possibly could to make you smile. It didn’t even bother you that you hadn’t had sex with him yet, you were happy to wait until he initiated things with you whenever he was ready. You had found out that he was an absolute master of using his tongue though, so you couldn’t complain.

This was your first time babysitting with Jaemin, and so far, everything was going great. Renjun’s newborn baby Jihyo was an absolute dream to watch over, mostly because the only bad thing she could do was cry, which she had only done briefly when she’d pooped, luckily Uncle Jaemin took care of that. Renjun and his girlfriend had decided to take Jiyeon to the zoo for the day without Jihyo, wanting to make sure that Jiyeon was still receiving as much love and attention as she needed. So when Renjun had mentioned in their group chat that he needed a babysitter, Jaemin had volunteered you both for the position.

“She’s so cute, how can anyone make something this precious?” You looked up from her peaceful face to Jaemin’s delicate face. He was sitting with you on the sofa, your back pressed into his chest as he cuddled the two of you. He looked into your eyes and smiled a wide smile, pressing a light kiss to the tip of your nose. You didn’t notice how he had literal hearts in his eyes from watching you hold a baby. Jaemin had always had a craving for the perfect family, and he knew he wouldn’t ever have that until he met the love of his life, got married, and had a baby. So he couldn’t help the way his heart kept speeding up as thoughts of wifing you up and making babies with you flashed through his head as if he was looking into the future. He didn’t want to rush things and end up scaring you away though, so those thoughts stayed locked inside of his own head for his eyes only.

“Well someone made you.” His reply had your eyes rolling, but you leaned your head back against his shoulder anyway, a gentle laugh tumbling from your lips at how corny he was.

“I bet you were a precious baby.” You commented offhandedly, not realising the emotional turmoil it would throw Jaemin into. He didn’t know how to tell you that he was anything but precious when he was born. He sighed and leaned the side of his head against yours, his arms tightening around you.

“I was born addicted to heroin.” He whispered, his stomach curdling at the words leaving his mouth. You whipped your head around and pulled it back slightly so that you could look at him properly. He gave you a small smile that didn’t reach his cheeks and it broke your heart slightly.

“Jaemin…you never told me that…” You furrowed your eyebrows in question. Now that you think about it, Jaemin hadn’t ever really spoken about his mother or father, only making a comment about his mother being dead. You didn’t want to pry, and you knew eventually he would open up to you about it, you just hadn’t expected it to be in this moment.

“My mother was an addict, and my father ran away as soon as he found out about my impending existence. My grandmother is my fathers’ mother and she was the one who took me in. She has nothing to do with my father either, I don’t even know where he is.” He shrugged like it didn’t matter, but by the look in his eyes, you could tell it tore him apart and had had an effect on him in the past. “I recovered but it stunted my growth growing up and I was bullied, a lot.” You wanted to grab him and give him a big squeeze, but with Jihyo in your arms it wasn’t possible. Instead you gave him a sad look, one that he could tell you were sympathising with him. “I’m okay now.” And all of a sudden, that Jaemin was gone, like he had never even existed. A big smile took over his face and it was if he had just told you that he’d won the lottery. His eyes moved from you to focus on Jihyo. “Come here my pretty girl, it’s uncle nana’s turn for a cuddle.” He shuffled out from behind of you, now sitting beside you as he scooped the sleeping tot from your hold. You opted not to ask any questions or say anything, just faking a smile and stroking Jihyo’s hair down after it fluffed up from the transfer. You couldn’t even think of what kind of questions you could ask him about his past, and you didn’t know what would be triggering for him.

“You love kids don’t you.” You decided to comment, keeping it positive and a good conversation changer. He nodded his head quickly in agreement; thankful you didn’t insist on talking about his past.

“Oh! I almost forgot,” His eyes flicked up to look into yours and you felt almost stunned by how beautiful he was. Sometimes you’d forget that he was your boyfriend and when you remembered you felt giddy inside. “I have a race on Friday, would you like to come?”

“You’re okay with me being there?” You raised your eyebrows in surprise at his offer. You’d asked him if you could see him race before, and he’d told you that he wasn’t sure if he wanted you there or not.

“Yeah, I want to see your beautiful face after I win.” He looked down at the baby in his arms and pressed the softest kiss to her forehead, bouncing her very gently to soothe her after she started to make a fuss, quiet whines emitting from her and her little body attempting to twist around. His words left a feeling of warmth inside of you, and you knew that you wouldn’t miss his race for the world.

“Then I’ll be there.”

---

“So are you going to be in the car with him or watching with me?” Haechan’s voice dragged your attention from a girl wearing the tiniest pair of shorts you’d ever seen, back to him. He smiled at you in amusement of your shocked expression. He was clearly used to this type of environment, seeing the scantily dressed women, and men who looked like they could break all of the bones in your body with a flick of their wrist. But you felt safe with Haechan, since you considered him to be someone who was able to protect you. The starting point of the race was also the finishing point, and it was behind the old railway tracks that weren’t in the populated areas of the city, less likely for the police to find it. There was a lot of people attending the race, and you had lost sight of Jaemin after you’d arrived with him. He’d passed you over to Haechan, pressed a kiss to the side of your head, and told you he had to ‘take care of something’.

“Watching with you,” You smiled up at him, then furrowed your eyebrows as you thought about it. “would I even be allowed in the car with him?” He shrugged, biting the inside of his cheek as he also thought about it.

“Probably, it’s not like you would affect his racing at all.” You didn’t want to ask Jaemin though, because you didn’t actually want to be in the car whilst he was racing. It was a scary thought to you, but you were just curious as to if you could or not.

“When does it start?”

“In about 10 minutes.” You gave him a small smile and let out a sigh, your eyes scanning the crowd to see if you could spot Jaemin. You couldn’t, so you just turned your attention back to Haechan.

“Where’s your girlfriend? Did she not want to come?” His shoulders sank and he gave you an awkward smile, scratching the back of his head before clearing his throat.

“We’re kind of on a break right now, things got a bit too much with the whole Jeno situation and I’m not sure what’s going to happen.” He shrugged, but you could tell he was bothered by it, his eyes drifting to the floor as he kicked at a stone on the floor.

“Oh I’m sorry, Jaemin didn’t tell me!” You felt bad, but you didn’t know so there wasn’t much you could have done to avoid the awkwardness now floating in the air between you both. He shrugged again and gave you a genuine smile, shuffling over from foot to foot.

“Don’t worry about it, come on let’s go wait by the starting line.” He grabbed you by the shoulders from behind and steered you towards where a white line of paint had been marked on the floor. You stood behind the metal barriers, Haechan standing close to you to stop any of the sleezy men from approaching you. He bumped his shoulder against yours and nodded towards the cars approaching the line. “It’s about to start.” You felt your heart sink slightly that you didn’t get to give Jaemin a good luck kiss. You knew what he did was dangerous, and if anything happened to him during the race without you kissing him before hand, you’d be absolutely heartbroken.

“I’m nervous.” You mumbled, glancing at Haechan quickly before giving Jaemin’s car all of your attention. The car visibly rumbling from the strength of the engine and how Jaemin was revving it, the sound loud but muffled with the rest of the other noisy cars.

“Don’t be. Jaemin is probably the best racer here and he knows what he’s doing.” Haechan’s words reassured you but there was still a slight nagging feeling in your stomach that something bad was going to happen.

Everything flashed by quicker than you could have ever imagined. A girl wearing nothing but a bikini top and jean shorts stood in the middle of the dirt road, the white flag in her hand falling to the floor to signify the start of the race. The cars took off with a cloud of dirt left in their wake, the loud engines fading as the cars went down the dirt road. Haechan had told you that after the dirt road finished, they’d race through the city, then they’d loop back around and finish exactly where they’d started. Everyone went back to chatting and mingling with each other as they waited for the tell-tale sound of cars approaching. Haechan got you a can of beer from the cooler in his car and he kept you close to his side. He tried to convince you to dance to the music coming from someone’s car, and as you tried to brush him off, he grabbed you and twirled you around, forcing you to dance with him which had you both wheezing of laughter from how chaotic it was. You didn’t realise how fun Haechan could be, and you felt bad for having assumed he was dangerous and having tried to avoid him as much as you could. You still knew he was dangerous, but you knew he wasn’t a danger to you.

The sound of the car’s engines getting louder brought everyone out of their mingling, and you rushed with Haechan back over to the metal barrier. Jaemin’s car skidded around the corner with perfect control on the dirt road, the rest of the cars close behind him, but he was in the lead. You watched with bated breath, unable to even cheer like the rest of the crowd as Jaemin crossed the finish line first. You felt Haechan’s arms around you, lifting you up and spinning you around.

“He won!” Haechan’s confirmation of what you already knew had you laughing, and you couldn’t control the grin on your face. You felt an overwhelming sense of pride in your boyfriend, knowing that racing means a lot to him and winning is such an accomplishment. He’d told you before that when he doesn’t win, he gets into a funk for a few days, feeling like a failure because the only thing he was really good at was driving. You wanted to disagree with him, but in typical Jaemin fashion, he changed the subject before you could address it. Haechan took your hand in his own and almost dragged you with him to where Jaemin had parked his car. Jaemin was sat on the hood of his car, his arms folded over his chest with a big smirk painted on his face when he noticed you approaching him. He pushed himself off of the car and picked you up as you ran into his arms, holding you by your thighs and pressing his lips to yours.

“You won baby!” You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck and holding onto him like your life depended on it. Haechan came up beside you and patted Jaemin on the shoulder, mumbling something in his ear before disappearing off. “Where’s he going?” You tilted your head, your eyes following Haechan until he disappeared out of sight.

“He’s a drug dealer babe, I think you know where he’s going.” He chuckled, still holding you in his arms. He laid a soft kiss onto your lips, humming against them in satisfaction with his hands rubbing against your thighs in a massaging motion. “We need to celebrate my win, don’t you think?” He whispered against your lips, nipping at your bottom lip with his teeth.

“Mmm we do, how are we going to celebrate?” Your lips brushed against his as you spoke, your fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. Jaemin’s smirk grew and he glanced down at your lips, pecking them with his quickly and trailing kisses down to your ear.

“I want to fuck you.” He whispered in a seductive tone, his grip tightening on you as you gasped in surprise. You felt a fire ignite in your stomach at his suggestive words, the thing you’d been waiting for finally about to happen. He dragged his lips back to yours, his tongue licking into your mouth and making it feel like fireworks sparked between you.

“Please do.” He set you down on your feet, pulling his phone from his pocket and quickly texting Haechan to tell him that you were both leaving. You let yourself into the passenger side of Jaemin’s car, almost bouncing in your seat at how excited you were to finally have sex with Jaemin. Jaemin disappeared for a few minutes before climbing in beside you, revving the engine and placing a big bag of money underneath his seat.

The two of you drove away, and you were surprised to find out you weren’t going in the direction of either of yours homes, your eyebrows furrowing in question but you didn’t bother asking Jaemin about his intended destination, instead just going with the flow, all of your trust in Jaemin. The trees on either side of the rural road were only lit up by the moonlight and the headlights of the car. No other cars were anywhere to be seen as you looked at the clock and noticed is was nearing 2am, so you felt as if it was just you and Jaemin in the world, no other people mattering to you as Jaemin pulled the car into a grassy car park next to a nature trail, obviously no one around to disturb you. You glanced over at Jaemin as he turned off the ignition, the moonlight shining against his beautiful features. You could see that he took a deep breath, clenching his fists and then rubbing his sweaty palms against his thighs.

“I should have known you would want to lose your virginity in your car.” You giggled, reaching over and taking one of his hands into your own. He let out a soft laugh, his gaze switching from his steering wheel over to you. “Are you nervous?” You lowered the sound of your voice, it coming out soft and as your words hit Jaemin’s ears they almost melted from how delicate they sounded.

“A little, I just want to make you feel good.” He found his courage and swooped in, catching your lips between his own and moving his hands from his thighs to rest one on your thigh, and the other on your waist.

“I want you so bad.” You mumbled into his mouth as your tongue fought for dominance, his tongue winning and turning the kiss heated and sensual immediately. You grabbed his hand, popping open the button on your jeans and guiding his hand inside of your panties. He let out a soft gasp, his lips pulling away from yours.

“Fuck you’re so wet for me already.” He almost growled, his fingers moving up and down your folds, spreading your essence up to your clit before circling it with two of his fingers. “Does that feel good?” He laid a kiss to your neck, prompting you to tilt your head away from him to give him easier access.

“Yeah, oh Jaemin.” You let out a breathy moan, sinking slightly in the seat as he started sucking on your neck, his fingers working magic against your over sensitive bundle of nerves. You’d started getting wet from the second Jaemin mentioned fucking you, all of the thoughts that had ran through your head turning filthy and making your thighs clench together on the way there, needing friction in the place you couldn’t wait for Jaemin to touch. You even thought about all of the times Jaemin had eaten you out, licking you to completion like an expert with your thighs thrown over his shoulders, your toes curling as he sucked on your clit like it was his lifeline. What he lacked in experience, he sure made up for in natural talent and enthusiasm. You also thought about how well his cock would fit inside of you, the few times you’d seen it when you’d sucked him off or given him a handjob giving you a lot of hope for how good it could make you feel inside of your tight pussy. So by the time Jaemin slid two fingers inside of you, you were already ready and gagging for his cock to be inside of you.

“Will you ride me?” He muttered against your neck, licking a stripe up your soft skin and blowing cool air against it, a shiver running through you that shot straight to your core. You nodded your head eagerly, grabbing his wrist to stop his fingers. He pulled his hand out of your pants, waiting for you to make the next move as he held his breath in anticipation. You lifted your hips from the seat, tucking your fingers into the waistband of your jeans and tugging them down your legs with your panties in tow. You kicked off your shoes and rid yourself of your jeans and panties, leaving them pooled in the footwell of the car. It was all very hurried, but you didn’t want to waste any more time, and Jaemin was so nervous that he just wanted to get things in motion. Jaemin unzipped his jeans, pushing them down slightly and pulling his half hard cock out of his boxers. He gripped his shaft in his shaky hand, giving it a few pumps.

“Let me.” You pushed your hair behind your shoulders and leaned down, kissing the tip of his cock with a teasing peck, before swirling your tongue around the head. Letting out a sultry moan, Jaemin tipped his head back to rest against his seat, his eyes staring up at the ceiling as he got lost in your mouth. You sunk down on his cock, hollowing your cheeks and bobbing your head on him, forcing him to squeeze his eyes shut in pleasure, placing his hand on the top of your head and threading his fingers through your hair. He tugged on your hair gently in encouragement, guiding your head up and down his length with his breathing picking up.

“Baby stop,” He gulped, pulling your head up with his hands cupping your cheeks, his thumb rubbing against your hot skin as he leaned in and pecked your lips with his own. “I wanna cum inside of you.”

“Have you got a condom?” You were on the pill, but you didn’t want to risk getting pregnant, it was something the both of you had discussed before and you’d both came to an agreement that if you have a baby together then it would be planned. Jaemin had seen how badly unplanned pregnancies had been on Jeno and Renjun’s relationships, and even though he knew not every relationship went through tough times because of an unexpected baby, he didn’t want to take the risk.

“Yeah.” He reached over and opened the glove box, pulling out a foil packet and giving you a smile. You watched as he rolled the rubber down his fully hard cock, your stomach fluttering from how hot the sight looked. “Okay, I’m ready.” He pushed his seat back slightly, making room between him and the steering wheel for you. You awkwardly clambered over the centre console and settled down into his lap with your legs either side of his. “Hi.” He chuckled weakly, his cheeks already red from how nervous and shy he suddenly felt.

“Hi.” You nuzzled your nose against his, laying a gentle kiss on his lips as you placed one hand on his shoulder, the other one gripping his cock to line it up with your almost dripping centre. Jaemin’s hands found purchase on your hips, his breath hitching as you slowly lowered yourself onto him.

“Oh my-” You cut him off by smashing your lips into his, his moan melting into your mouth as you circled your hips, sitting comfortably and ignoring the slight sting from the stretch you hadn’t felt in so long. “Shit.” He mumbled; the words muffled against your lips. You couldn’t help the big smile that stretched across your lips, overjoyed at giving Jaemin something he’d been waiting for long for and getting such a positive reaction from him. You felt a rush of heat go through you as you realised how hot it was getting in the car, your eyes drifting from Jaemin over to the windows that were all fogged up from the heated situation between you both. He followed your gaze and mirrored your smile, lifting his finger and drawing a heart in the condensation. You laughed and laid your head against his, almost forgetting that his cock was buried balls deep inside of you as you placed a tender kiss on his cheek.

“Can you take your shirt off?” You whispered, your hands coming down to sit at the hem of his long-sleeved, black shirt. “I… wanna see your tattoos.” You felt shy admitting it, but Jaemin’s tattoos were a huge turn on for you. They had an array of colours from wrist to shoulder, mostly black but the colour fitted perfectly with the designs. When he was wearing his long-sleeved t-shirt you couldn’t even tell that he had both arms completely covered in tattoos, and you loved how it was a complete contrast to his butter wouldn’t melt face and baby pink hair. His smirk grew and he nodded his head fast, lifting his arms as you shimmied his shirt over his head, quickly discarding of it in the back seat. “You’re so hot, I’m so lucky.” You dived your face into the crook of his neck, licking a stripe up his slightly salty skin before latching your teeth onto him. You lifted yourself up as you sucked on his neck, his hands settling on your hips as you dropped back down, a dull pang of pleasure mixed slightly with pain blooming to life inside of you.

“Baby! oh…oh!” Jaemin’s moans were like music to your ears when you started to circle your hips, getting a perfect rhythm until you were bouncing in his lap, the car moving up and down in time with you both. Jaemin started to buck his hips up, chasing after the euphoric feeling he’d never experienced in this way before. The heat in the car was rising, and Jaemin’s chest was starting to shine from sweat underneath the moonlight streaming in from the little heart Jaemin made on the window.

“You feel so good.” You praised him, grabbing his face in your hands and licking into his mouth. Jaemin keened at your praise, his hips quicken up as his tongue flicked with yours. You slipped your hands down to the side of his neck and could feel his muscles tense up in, his fingers pressing into your hips tight enough that you were sure they would leave little bruises. You kept your lips on his, trailing your hands down to his biceps and gripping onto them to keep yourself stable. “Right there!” You squealed as you dropped down onto him and he bucked up at the perfect time, the tip of his cock hitting your sensitive spot to your surprise. You knew it was a place that not many men could find, and you hadn’t expected Jaemin to hit it dead on with his first time, but he did, and it left a fire burning inside of you. He smiled, proud of himself for making you feel so good, but it was short lived as his orgasm creeped up on him.

“I’m close,” He whispered, his head falling back and eyes shutting, stars starting to fizzle against the black of eyelids from how hard he was squeezing his eyes shut. “Fuck I’m cumming!” He stopped thrusting, his hips stilling as his cock spurted cum into the condom, a long drawn out whine leaving his parted lips that had also stilled against your mouth. You were close, and you knew if he could deal with some oversensitivity for a few moments then you’d be able to chase your own high. You gripped onto his shoulders and started to bounce on his lap faster than before, short pants leaving your parted lips and your head falling to rest on your left hand on his shoulder. It was when he lifted his hips one final time, his half hard cock slamming once more into your g-spot that you felt your thighs start to quiver, your fingers digging into his skin as your orgasm crashed into you. You’d never came so fast before in your entire life, and it was even more shocking to you that someone who’d never fucked before in their life was the one to bring that onslaught of a feeling to you. It made sense that Jaemin came so quickly, but you had no excuse apart from Jaemin being naturally gifted in the bedroom and from how wound up you were waiting for him to fuck you.

“Fuck.” You huffed out, Jaemin’s arms wrapping around you like a blanket to secure you against his body as he came down from your high. He laid butterfly kisses to your neck as you nuzzled into his shoulder, feeling secure and loved in his hold.

“(Y/N)…” You lifted your head lazily to look him in the eyes, the moon reflecting in his dark irises and causing a pool of something unfamiliar to form in your gut. He took a few deep breaths as you stared into your eyes, his gaze flicking down to scan over your face before lifting back to your enchanting eyes. “I love you.” You then realised what the unfamiliar feeling you were feeling was. It’s what lead you to utter the words back to him.

“I love you too.” In perfect synchronisation you both leaned in, your lips meeting in the middle and sealing the love you’d just confession to each other for the first time.

---

You hadn’t heard from Jaemin yet. It was 5:30pm and really strange that you hadn’t heard from him since the day prior, when usually on the days you had work, you’d pick your phone up to multiple messages from him. But today, none. It caused a tiny spark of worry in your stomach, mainly because you knew he was very reckless with his car, even though you trusted his driving 100%, you couldn’t trust every other driver on the road. So instead of heading home, you jumped into your car and headed over to his apartment. His car was out the front, in perfect condition as usual, so you crossed that off of reasons why Jaemin hadn’t messaged you. You let out a sigh in relief, stopping your car behind his own, also noting that Haechan’s car was parked on the road, so at least you’d have someone to answer the door even if Jaemin wasn’t home.

As you approached the door you took a deep breath, knocking timidly and knotting your fingers together in anticipation as you waited for someone to answer the door. It wasn’t long before the door opened, Haechan appearing behind the door with a lopsided smile on his face.

“Oh hey (Y/N), Jaemin didn’t say he was expecting you.” He stepped aside, wordlessly telling you to come in. You walked in, taking off your shoes and smiling up at him nervously.

“He isn’t expecting me, but he hasn’t messaged me today and I was just stopping by to see if he was okay. I’m just happy he hasn’t wrapped his car around a tree.” You laughed softly with no amusement in your voice at all.

“Oh…he’s in his room.” He nodded in the direction of Jaemin’s room and watched as you started to walk towards it. “(Y/N),” He called out quietly causing you to turn around before you reached the door, tilting your head in question. “He hasn’t had a good day…just a heads up.”

“Okay.” You nodded and gently knocked on Jaemin’s door before letting yourself in. The first thing you noticed was the curtains were drawn shut, only a few rays of light peeking in through the gaps where the curtains meet. Then you noticed the big lump on the bed. You had a feeling Jaemin was the lump, his back to you and the duvet pulled up over his head. “Jaem…?” You called out, waking around the bed and catching the eyes of Jaemin. His eyes were completely bloodshot, and only his head was poking out from the duvet, his hair messier than you’d ever seen before.

“Hey.” He mumbled with no enthusiasm evident in his voice. He sniffed, poking a hand up from his duvet to wipe at his eyes, giving you proof that he’d cried at least once today. He made no effort to get up, simply staring at you with a horribly emotionless look behind his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” You sat down on the bed beside his body, your hand settling on the top of the lump where you assumed his hip was. He let out a long sigh and momentarily shut his eyes, as if he was bracing himself for something. You’d never seen Jaemin in this state before. He’d always presented himself as a positive, happy person, so to see him looking as broken as he did when he opened his eyes to look at you again shook you to the core. But even the happiest person on the world has their moments of sadness too.

“I don’t want to burden you.” He settled on, the lump moving as he shrugged his shoulders, his lips naturally pouting like a stubborn child.

“Are you sick?” You quizzed on, your stomach starting to curdle from the worry you felt at seeing your normally bubbly boyfriend looking so glum.

“No.”

“Did something happen?”

“No.”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No, it’s not you.”

“Did something happen with the boys?”

“No.”

“Did something happy with your grandma?”

“No.” You were starting to feel defeated and slightly frustrated that he wasn’t cooperating with you.

“Okay.” You shrugged, completely giving up and letting out an irritated sigh. You stayed silent, turning away from him slightly to look around his room. You noticed his phone on charge across the room, his normally put away clothes just strewn across the floor as if he’d completely just thrown them there. You pulled your hand away from him and instead knotted it up with your other hand, twiddling your fingers together as you got lost in your thoughts. You felt sick with worry, not knowing how when he would recover from whatever was floating around in his own head. His voice pulled your out of your thoughts, your stomach dropping at what he said.

“I have severe depression, and today I woke up and wanted to kill myself to stop the feeling, the only reason I didn’t was because I saw the text you sent me this morning telling me to have a good day and that you love me. Then I felt awful because I know how it feels to lose someone, and it isn’t ever a feeling I want you to feel.” He let out a soft sob, his eyes squeezing shut and taking in a deep breath as he looked up at the back of your head. He could tell from how your body was shaking that you were crying silently. Your face was creased up as you cried for your boyfriend, feeling your heart crack at this confession.

“Jaemin…” You stood up and turned to face him, tugging the duvet out of his grip. You stripped off your uniform, mainly for hygiene reasons, so you were just in your underwear before you climbed into his bed with him, pressing your forehead against his own. “Thank you.” You whispered, your hand finding on of his underneath the duvet and threading your fingers with his.

“What for?” He gulped, his pillow now wet and uncomfortable but he couldn’t find it in him to care as he felt you there with him.

“For not doing it.” You couldn’t even think of the words to describe the horrible feeling you had swirling around inside of your tense stomach. Your boyfriend had just admitted something so incredibly crushing to you, and the only thing you could think of was how he had kept this to himself for the past five months of your relationship. You weren’t mad. You didn’t think you could ever be mad at him for this. No, you were heartbroken. Heartbroken for him because he had been fighting an internal battle all on his own when you could have been there as a support beam for him. “Talk to me in future, I’m so in love with you and I never want you to fight anything on your own.” Your voice was shaky, small sobs still falling from your lips as you gripped onto his hand tightly.

“I’ll be okay.” He whispered, moving his head up and placing a lingering kiss on your forehead.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He pulled his hand out of your grip, instead wrapping his arms around your torso and holding you tightly against his chest. He didn’t want to see you cry because of him, so if he hugged you it would block your face from his vision, and he could bring you comfort. He also didn’t want you to see the tears falling from his red eyes.

“I wanted to pretend everything was perfect. You’re perfect for me, and I wanted a life to match that. I’m sorry baby.” He breathed through his mouth to try and steady out his breathing, his arms tightening around you like a vice.

“You haven’t got to apologise…can I ask why you have depression?” He took a deep breath at your question. You could feel and hear his heart beating against your ear, the steady thumps bringing you more comfort that you thought it ever could. Jaemin poured his heart out to you completely, not missing out any details about his past, answering all the unasked questions you had in your head that you had waited patiently for him to open up to you about. He told you more about his birth, going into detail about his parents and his grandmother. You’d heard this before when you had babysat with him, but this time he told you everything in finer detail. Then he told you about his stunted growth and how he was bullied severely at school, which is what caused him to be the person he is today. It made sense that he wanted people to see him as a positive person, but you found it hard to wrap your head around how someone who went through all of that could be as positive as he had always appeared to be without having an episode like he was currently going through. It made perfect sense to you, and you felt like you understood Jaemin a lot more now. The final piece of the puzzle that was Jaemin fitting into place.

“I promise that I don’t go through phases like this often, and I don’t really have a trigger…it just randomly hits me, and I guess today was one of those days.” His hands rubbed up and down your back, his fingertips tracing circles in on your bare skin sending shivers through you.

“It wouldn’t matter to me if you went had phases like this all the time, I love you for you, depression included.” You laughed very softly, closing your eyes from how his heartbeat and your eyes, tired from cry, was making you feel sleepy. He let out a gentle laugh, his lips placing a firm kiss to your head. “Tell me in future, I’ll call in sick and we can spend the day as bed burritos together okay?”

“Bed burritos?” He raised an eyebrow in confusion, already feeling a flicker of positivity burning like a tiny flame inside the pit of negativity inside of him.

“Yeah, you were wrapped up in your duvet like a burrito. Bed burrito.” You yawned, totally relaxed with him now, a complete contrast to how you felt when you’d entered the room. Jaemin laughed again, the flicker inside of him growing again.

“Okay beautiful.” He moved a hand down to pat your butt affectionately and with no intention behind it. It was when you fell asleep on his chest, and he looked down at your peacefully sleeping face that he realised you were the woman he’d dreamt of every time he’d fantasied about his perfect future. The mysterious woman in all of his visions, the one walking down the aisle, the one holding his faceless children’s hands, the one growing old beside him, now having a face and a name.

---

Jaemin had never felt so nervous before in his entire life. And that was saying something, considering the rollercoaster of a life he’d lived. But even the nervousness of going to school, the nervousness of his first race, and his nervousness to lose his virginity couldn’t compared to this. But he’d made his mind up, and he was determined not to chicken out. ‘Chill out man, it’s not like you’re going to ask her to marry you, you’re only asking her if she wants to move in with you. You know she’ll say yes, so be chill.’ Jeno’s words rang through his head as he held you in his arms, swaying with you in the darkness of the night, the moon and the stars the only witnesses to his nerves since you hadn’t seemed to have caught on to his slightly tense body and shaky hands.

“Are you cold?” You spoke to softly Jaemin almost didn’t catch your words as you spoke them into his neck, your head tucked under his chin in your favourite spot. You felt so secure and loved when you snuggled into him like that, and he always pulled you to that position if he held you. “Your hands are shaking.” You could feel how his fingers were tapping against you from the way they shook, and even though you were enjoying your little slow dance under the moonlight, you’d prefer Jaemin didn’t catch a cold. The breeze was slow, and the air was warm, but you knew everyone reacted to temperature differently. Something you’d been made aware of working as a carer, most of your elderly clients feeling the cold a lot more than you and complaining about it despite the sweat you had on your forehead from being so hot.

“No, I’m okay…are you cold?” He glanced up at the sky, the moon being bright and easily visible through the clearing in the trees. This was the spot where he’d lost his virginity, and he loved to come here not only to relive that moment in his thoughts, but because it was peaceful and serene, nobody around to disturb the calm.

“I’m toasty.” You giggled, your arms wrapped around his neck as you snuggled into his warmth further, if it was even possible. He let out a quick laugh and then gently tugged you away from him, his eyes darting over your face quickly. You furrowed your eyebrows at how he was looking at you, about to ask him if he was feeling okay when he leaned in, catching your lips with his own. You closed your eyes, moving your lips slowly with his as his hand came up to stroke your cheek with so much delicacy you could hardly feel his feather light touch. He broke the kiss and whispered against your lips.

“Keep your eyes closed.” He took a step back from you and took a deep breath. You kept your eyes closed, slightly scared he was going to run away and make you play a sadistic game of hide and seek in a dark forest. But then you felt stupid because you knew Jaemin would never make you do that. You almost giggled to yourself from the thought when Jaemin spoke up again. “Okay so, I’ve waited for you for what feels like forever. And now that you’re in my life I know I never want to you leave again, and I want to wake up beside you every morning. You’ve brought so much joy and love I never knew I could feel from anyone other than my grandma,” He let out an awkward laugh after he said that, then carried on, swallowing the lump in his throat. “You’ve shown that you’ll support me through thick and thin these past six months and I’ve never been so sure of something before in my life as that I’m sure you’re the love of my life…Okay open your eyes.” When you opened them you were confused for a second, wondering when Jaemin became a magician and could disappear so fast when his voice was clearly in front of you. You had been told by Jeno a few days prior that Jaemin was going to ask you to move in with him, his excuse for telling you was ‘he’s going to be super nervous so if you’re going to say no then at least you can plan your way of letting him down gently.’ And you assumed this was his way of asking you to move in with him, expecting him to be holding a key when you opened your eyes, and you were definitely going to say yes. However, when your line of sight drifted down and your jaw almost hit the floor when you saw him down on one knee, a ring in a box in his hand and a nervous look on his face, not so expertly covered by a smile.

“Will you marry me?”

[plumrabbit]

DA Fandom and moving forward - Calling In vs. Calling Out

Hi everyone,

As a PoC member of the DA fandom, I felt I have been quiet for long enough on the issues that have been presented recently. I am not here to argue against or on behalf of any individual or group, I am only here to present some information that I hope will be helpful moving forward. This is a long post, but it’s my hope that if you read it and want to help contribute to making this place better for everyone, then you will be willing to try to put what is said here into practice.

Since I am a relatively small blog, I wanted to start with a little personal introduction that will segue into the topic at hand. My name is Liz (you can call me Jade too, that’s part of my middle name), and I am a mixed race, “ambiguously brown”, aspec person from Canada. I grew up around mostly other immigrant families, attended predominantly non-white schools that were run by mostly white admins, and completed my degrees at a very white university in a field that does not have much racial diversity. I have experienced racism first-hand many times including, but not limited to, name-calling/slurs, fetishization/exotification, being followed by staff, people second-guessing my name, jokes about hurting/killing people of my race, etc. as well as witnessing racism directed at my friends and peers. I know exactly what it’s like to be exhausted and feel unsafe or othered.  There is, however, one thing I need to point out about the multitude of instances of racism I’ve experienced - most of them were caused by ignorance, and not malice. Yes there are absolute assholes out there, but personally I can count those people I’ve encountered on one hand (I am not speaking for everyone, though). The vast majority of racism, bigotry and general harmful acts come from a place of ignorance, particularly on left-leaning tumblr (to clarify, this discussion is centered around well-meaning people and not the actual lost causes). When I say ignorance, I don’t mean a lack of education or intelligence, I mean not being able to see or understand an issue from another person’s perspective. It’s not quite the same as empathy either (where empathy means you are able to feel another person’s emotions), but fighting ignorance does require empathy. It also requires knowledge on the context of the specific situation, and that I believe is the crux of the problem.  I think the main reason why this is issue is particularly prevalent in the DA fandom is a result of the too-close-to-reality-to-ignore inspirations that have been confirmed by the devs. Yes, it’s fiction, but there are also a lot of people that see themselves (mis)represented in the themes and characters. And what one person sees as disrespectful, another person may not see at all. This can come full circle, too, for example: one person sees themselves and their trauma represented in a character, another person sees their race misrepresented in the same character. Person 1 uses the character as a comfort character or coping strategy. Person 2 thinks using that character in certain situations is disrespectful. Neither one sees the other’s perspective.  This is where intersectionality starts to come into play, and requires empathy and effort to address the intentions and emotions of the other person. Perhaps person 1 is LGBTQ+ and has been traumatized by being as such, and uses Dorian as a character to explore their trauma. Perhaps person 2 is Brown, and racism towards their people is their trigger, and thinks person 1 did not do Brown representation justice in their creative works.  Looking at this more specifically, person 1 may have put Dorian in sexual situations. Person 2 feels that the way it was conveyed was fetishist or exotified. Person 2 doesn’t know person 1′s intentions. Person 1 is not aware of certain descriptions that are racist (e.g. using food to describe a PoC’s skin tone). Perhaps person 1 was self-inserting and wanted to feel desirable on their own terms, but this gave person 2 that squick factor.  Now person 2 wants to address this issue, and I think this is where a call-in (not a call-out) would be appropriate. Here is a good infographic that compares the two: 

(Original source)

Note that there is quite a large difference in the language used. Going back to the above example, person 2 could privately message person 1 asking them why they chose to represent Dorian the way they did, with specific examples, and using call-in language (and I’m going to get back to this in a minute). 

The point of this post and infographic isn’t meant to tell marginalized groups how they should be bringing up issues (though it is a good guide if you are concerned about being polite, particularly to a first time offender), it’s intended to demonstrate to people unintentionally participating in harmful behaviour what a call-out vs. call-in looks like. For PoC and other marginalized groups, yes it does take emotional labour to use call-in language and to try to understand someone that wounded you (here is a good read that incorporates the concept of emotional labour for call-ins, and discusses asking yourself if you are ready to do so). For the people who have unintentionally hurt a marginalized individual or group, please understand that someone calling you in is not an attack, it’s a chance to explain why you expressed something the way you did. 

That being said, we may have reached another hurdle. What if you call someone in, and the person called in does not want to discuss the fact that they were inserting their personal trauma? I think this is where things start to get a bit messy, but I am of the opinion that if you’ve unintentionally triggered someone else’s trauma through ignorance present in your work, you owe it to them to at the very least mention that you were inserting your trauma, without having to bring up specifics (anyone is allowed to set boundaries). From there, the discussion can be hopefully be opened up to learning from each other, and reaching a consensus. Sometimes that consensus requires the creator to edit or remove their work. As an addendum, if you are a creator that unintentionally hurt someone with your work that didn’t have an ulterior personal motivation, it’s your responsibility to understand why what you did was wrong, apologize, remove the work and do better next time. I know some people cherish their OCs, but you are allowed to change your perspective and make adjustments to your character without erasing them entirely. Now we’ve reached another potential obstacle - what if an offender doesn’t respond to your call-in? First of all, ask yourself, did you actually call them in, or did you attack them? Here is a good opinion piece from a Black professor on this matter. I’d like to clarify that I am not trying to tone police, I am speaking as someone that used to go ham on ignorant people on Facebook and Reddit, and has since changed their tactics and has even gotten through to Trump supporters (some of this stems from my spiritual growth as well, but that is not the point here).  There is another issue to address here now as well - what if you have tried, repeatedly, to call someone in and they just don’t change their behaviour? Alright, then it’s probably time to call them out. But again, ask yourself, did you truly try to get through to them? If so, well, at the end of the day, some people are, unfortunately, lost causes. In summary, a call-in is meant to come from a place of wanting to help someone who has seemingly gone astray, because you are worried about their thoughts, feelings, and behaviours towards a marginalized group. You know that if they made a mistake it isn’t them, isn’t their heart, and you want them to be able to understand why what they did hurt others, and give them the chance to correct themselves. It comes from a place of love and acceptance, because you don’t want your friends to harbour negative beliefs.  Finally, I want to give a real example of this in action. My cousin is a photographic artist, and was recently called in to discuss the nature of one of her pieces. Her subjects are usually people, and they come from a wide variety of backgrounds. To help support BLM (she does a lot of work to help fight racism in general), she auctioned off one of her pieces. The subject of the piece happened to be a Black woman. She was called in by Black members of her art community to discuss how people bidding on an art piece that featured a person from a marginalized group perpetuated the ogling and monetization of Black people. She gave a response that acknowledged that her piece did perpetuate this issue, because she wanted to raise awareness of this historical harm, and recognized that her intention was ignorant of this perspective. The Black community also acknowledged that the piece itself was not harmful in any way, only that the surrounding issue that they were painfully aware of needed to be brought to light. The auction went ahead, and the piece sold for ~$1000, all of which was donated to BLM.  I think as a fandom we should be cognizant of when a work itself is harmful, or when the intention is harmful. Sometimes they overlap, sometimes they don’t. Both are talking points, and we should not be afraid to discuss them, but this requires respect from all parties. We also do need to be able to recognize what is strictly fiction, versus what has real-world impacts. My askbox is always open and my DMs are open to mutuals if you would like anything clarified or expanded upon. Or, if you’d just like to discuss a topic, vent, or have any questions about my own beliefs, you are welcome to reach out. I am happy to discuss anything, as long as there is mutual respect. 

[seoultrippins]

focus | pjm | 01

Summary: Park Jimin is an extremely accomplished con man who takes an amateur con artist under his wing. What he did not see coming was you and him being romantically involved and with Jimin’s profession of being a liar and a cheater for a living, he realizes that deception and love are things that don't go together. Or could it?

Pairing: Reader x Jimin

Genre: Crime, Conman!Jimin, Conartist!Reader, Smut, Fluff

Word Count: 2851

Warnings: Cussing, Slight groping

Status: 1/?

A/N: Hey! It feels nice to be writing on tumblr, I've always wanted to. I 've grown accustomed to publishing my writings on AFF but I thought it'd be pretty cool to start publishing here. I hope you enjoy reading and I am not too sure how many parts there would be but either way don't be a silent rider. The smut in the next chapter will be intense however, so bless me.

From the lazy spin of the fans, to the recumbent light of eventide that will soon be starlit black, the bar soaks in the ambiance of this good night. It's a bar, in a hotel that has a name you could barely pronounce but everyone is attempting to appear proper in their high end suits and attire, as you are. Fidgeting through the skin tight dress you had on, you rested your arm on the bar countertop as you analysed the surroundings. The bar is hundreds of conversations told in loud voices, all of them competing with the live jazz music that dominated the atmosphere. The crowd had a mixture of the young and the old and it was perfect. Perfect to source out for your very next victim. However, as you searched the throng, you felt a strong warmth around your waist and turned around as your eyes met with a desperate pair. Dressed in a suit two sizes bigger than required, the sloppy looking man insisted he had you in his arms. You wrinkled your brows as you realized where this was going, and it was destroying your good mood. Nervously, you removed the man’s hands away but his persistence remained. Whispering filthy nothings in your ears, your hands reached out to push the man away. Frustration boiled through your veins as you desperately thought of ways to remove yourself from the dreadful situation.

“Okay, you know what,” You chuckled nervously. “My boyfriend could be here any minute.” Your hands were busy pushing his persistent hands away as he laughed.

“Yea? I don’t see anyone. C’mon baby, no point lying..”

Rolling your eyes, you eyes scan through the crowd. Eyes evidently searching for someone you could confide in and that did it. Your eyes landed on the gentleman feasting on his dinner. Your eyes widened, handsome is a state of soul that carries through that man. He had that kind of face that stopped you in your tracks. He must get used to that, the sudden pause in a person’s natural expression when they looked his way followed by overcompensating with a nonchalant gaze and a weak smile. Lips curling into a soft smirk, you tug the annoying man harshly, eyes meeting his as he pulls away in shock.

“Look, he’s there.” Your index finger pointing to the handsome gentleman who caught your attention confidently. “Fuck off, really.”

Walking past the bewildered drunk man, you breathe your nerves away as you approach the gentleman. You watch the way he sits with such elegance - so poignant and dignified. His white suit was tailored to his frame, and his unbuttoned dress shirt allowed his flawless skin to breathe while his fingers were adorned with precise lines of metallic rings. Fingers wrapped delicately around his wine glass as you watch his eyes shift towards you when voluntarily slip into the seat in front of him. Placing your baguette bag to your lap, you watch him raise his eyebrow in question as you lean forward to explain yourself.

“Could you -” You stopped, turning around to look at the creep still standing by the bar countertop looking right back at you before whispering. “Do you mind being my boyfriend? Like just for a minute.”

Staring at the man in front of you, you watch him smirk behind his glass before gently placing the drink down as he leans back against the soft cushion of his chair. Extending his long, toned legs into a manspread, he leans his face against his fingers as he watches you. Growing confused, you began to fidget in your seat.

“You - you’re not a serial killer are you?” You asked.

He stares, fingers playing with his rings as he shrugs. “That depends. How many times does it take to get to “serial”?” He shoots back.

Your face contorted into a genuine thoughtful expression as you answer. “Uhm..five..?”

“Oh then, no we’re good.” He leans forward as he answers you with a straight face.

This man was something else. You thought to yourself as your lips curled into a smile upon hearing his response. Hand stretching out, you introduced yourself.

“Y/N”

“Jimin.” His fingers slip comfortably into yours as he shakes your hand. It was brief, friendly even - but the way his attractive gaze stayed on yours made it oddly intimate.

“Ha Ha, funny.” You mocked, as you took a sip of the red liquor swirling in the shiny glass. “I only came to you because you seemed awfully lonely. Eating your dinner like that, I just felt so so bad..”

“Yea?” He prodded you with an eyebrow raise. “Then that’s also the reason why you’re here alone, waiting for a non-existent boyfriend you can use to chase away creeps?”

Okay he had a point.

“Hey!” You frowned. “A girl needs time alone alright? Also, you started this unnecessary feud on how you were the best choice in this damn bar. I was just trying to avoid ending up in the newspapers as a missing person.” Your frustration is evident in your tone as he watches you intently.

Not long, the both of you were bursting into bits of laughter as you recount the trivial conversation. Your eyes shifted to your wrist, taking note of the 30 minutes you’ve spent conversing with this stranger and everything seemed oddly perfect. Too perfect even.

“Thank you,” You said as he rested comfortably on his chair. “Thank you for saving me.”

His lips curled up slightly as he nodded. “Yeah, yeah we definitely showed him.” He says as his head points to the creep. The only difference was that he was knocked up, completely unconscious on the countertop.

You laughed. “Damn, was that what I was missing out on?”

As he laughs along, you watch him shift, toned body leaning forward and you couldn’t help but take note of the way his necklace dangled over his neck as he stares at you. “Can I walk you somewhere?”

The air in your lungs became stuck in your throat. This guy was extremely beautiful. His voice sounded like melted honey and it took all you had not to lean forward and take his lips in yours.

“Um,” You began. “I’m actually staying here, upstairs.”

“Really?” He says but you watch the way he fidgets in his seat, hands adjusting his rings and he runs his fingers through his hair - throughout, his gaze is fixed on you.

“Let me walk you there then.”

"Fuck." Jimin was nestled under you, your hips grinding against the evident arousal between his thighs as you drag your lips down his neck.

You shivered, feeling the way his hands travelled down your frame to your ass, squeezing the thick flesh mercilessly as forcefully grinds you against his arousal.

"Fuck Jimin, fuck do that again.." You whimpered.

Lips intertwined, you heart drops to your stomach when you took sight of the way he smiles between the kiss. You nearly forgot why you brought him up here in the first place. Not until the loud sound of your hotel room door crashing open did you remind yourself that you had a task to perform. Rolling your eyes, you switched into character.

"Oh fuck! It's my husband." As you watched Kihoon enter the room, you sprang into the area next to Jimin. Kihoon's fingers gripped tightly on the rifle as he pointed it towards Jimin's face.

"Kihoon wait-"

"Shut the fuck up." Kihoon groaned, his eyes gleaming as he faced Jimin.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Jimin voices, palms up as he surrenders himself to the situation but you couldn't ignore the slight tint of smile in the corner of his lips as he does so. Is this man a fucking psycho?

"Just let him go Kihoon."

"You fucking cheated. No way, he's fucking dead." Kihoon screams, lines of veins bulging out his reddening neck as he does so. You noted the sweat crowding his forehead. "Give me one fucking reason why I shouldn't do it."

At this moment, your heart was racing. You knew there was no intention of shooting Jimin, and it was aggravating to see the man next to you undisturbed by the scenario. His surrending palms were now resting comfortable under his head as he watches you. You sighed internally, coming up with a respond to Kihoon but Jimin cuts you off.

"I'm drawing a blank." He says, eyes shifting away from you to Kihoon.

"What?" Kihoon mutters, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"I think you should shoot me." Jimin continues, smile creeping onto his handsome face. "Let's be honest, you've been aggrieved."

"Don't mess with him Jimin. He's done hard time." You tried to salvage the situation as you fidgeted in your spot.

"Yea man, I've done fucking hard time!"

Jimin chuckles, eyes lazily shifting as he stares at you. "Man, if you had any idea what I was about to do to her-"

"Shut the fuck up!" Kihoon yells, his rifle still pointing at Jimin's face, but this man remains unconcerned.

"Please, come on, shoot me." Jimin urges. "You're really doing me a favour. Cancer. Tumour, the size of a peach." He lifted his hand to offer a visual representation as he chuckles. "Shoot me, you'll see."

"Fuck!" You groaned, rolling your eyes as you aggravatedly run your fingers through your hair. "He's onto us, Kihoon. Wake the fuck up."

You watch Jimin sit up slowly as he rolled off the bed. His eyes fixed on you as he fixed his blazer. "Just give us the money Jimin."

"Or?" He challenges.

"He'll shoot you in the neck."

Kihoon falters, eyes shifting to you. "I can't shoot a guy with cancer. My grandma had cancer.."

"He does not have cancer, you idiot!" You groaned. "Get out man."

Your perked up when you hear Jimin laughing as watches the situation unfold. "You guys suck."

He leans forward, sinful hands slipping into his pants pockets. "First of all, you gotta wait till she gets my pants off." He says as he walks to rest against the wall nearest to the door. "Then you gotta give me a chance to run, that's how you get the money and you should never drop the con. You never break. Die with the lie."

"How did you figure this out?" You asked.

"When you stole that creep's wallet before you came to me."

You heave in wrath and fury, you feel your ego breaking through your spirit. Frowning, you questioned. "Then why'd you come up here with me then if you're so smart?"

Jimin shrugs. "Professional curiousity." He walks towards the door before turning around. "Also, I love ass so I figured it's a win-win."

You groaned. "Fuck off Jimin."

"You suck baby."

The cold night was all around as you stepped out of the hotel. Tugging onto your sweater, you hugged your shivering frame as you made your way home. You feel the chill in your blood, coldness bringing the synapses of your brain to a stand still. However, you were still perplexed by the failed operation, and your thoughts kept replaying the scene in your brain. You groaned internally. All you wanted was to get home and sulk on your own.

Until -

"You really should be more aware." You ears perked up at the familiar melted honey voice. Rolling your eyes, you caught sight of Jimin walking up to you from behind, his hands stuffed in his pants pockets. "I've been behind you for two blocks."

You stayed silent, footsteps hurrying but he prods you. "You didn't see me?"

"I don't have eyes at the back of my head." You responded.

"Well, if you're gonna play this game you might wanna grow a pair."

You turn to face him. He was the kind of handsome that got into your bones. He was handsome from the depth of his eyes to the gentle expressions of his voice. Nonetheless, you brushed the thoughts away as you rolled your eyes. "I can take care of myself Jimin."

Shaking his head, he stops you. "No, you're going to get hurt." and when you don't answer, he offers. "Let me buy you coffee."

"I don't drink coffee." Hoping that would make him piss off, you failed, yet again, as he stood across you - silently staring at you. Groaning, you walked away. "Fine.

As he grabbed for the glass door, the two of you strolled side by side, stumbling onto the nearest café. You looked up to see his eyes already locked on you as he reached out to guide you inside the café, and the warmth of it sent an electric chill down your spine. As you took your seat, you gazed out the window at the to watch the thick blanket of snow that had blanketed the grounds. An icy serenade, a coolness to bring out the warmth within. As promised, Jimin comes back to the table with coffee cups in his hands.

"Thank you." You muttered softly, hands reaching for the cup as you caught his staring eyes.

"So, what's your thing?" You began, curious eyes finding his intense ones. "Inside? Roper? You can tell me."

He smiles, taking a sip of his coffee. "Everything. Been in this game for so long."

"Your story. I wanna know all of it if that's okay with you."

He nods, placing the cup onto the wooden table before leaning against his seat. Your eyes lingered over the spread of his toned thighs but chastised yourself for getting distracted.

"My grandfather used to run a crooked game in Busan." Jimin began. "Eventually, my father started shilling for him. One day they get burned. Mobbed-guy catches them throwing signals. Everybody's guns come out. Standoff. No way out. Except one."

Your eyes glued to the man in front of you, completely focused. "The Toledo Panic Button."

Your frowned. "What the hell is that?"

Jimin's chuckles and you don't think you'd ever get used to the sound of that. "You shoot your partner. Proves you're not together."

Mouth agape, you internalize the way Jimin casually spills horrid, explicit details on the world he's associated with. "So your grandfather killed your father?"

"That's the world you're in. Dabblers get killed." He shrugs, raising an eyebrow as he sips on his coffee.

God, was he hot.

You sighed. "Look, I wasn't born into this like you. I was a dyslexic foster kid. No prospects, no future. I mean, it's a minor miracle I'm not a hooker right now."

Jimin smirks at that as he leans his elbow against the armrest. He can't deny that the picture of your delicate hands wrapped around a poll accompanied by the dimmed lighting indeed piqued his interest. Hands grazing his jaw gently as you catch the way his eyes scans your frame. Brushing that act off, you lean forward. "Tutor me, Jimin."

"No." He shakes his head.

"Why not?"

"Why should I?" Jimin shoots back.

Groaning, you reach for your bag as you pulled out a leather Birkin. "Well, look, I could pay you, if that helps ."

Jimin crosses his arms, lips curling into a smile before eventually transcending into a contagious laugh. "Y/N, whose wallet is that?"

"Um," You flipped the wallet open, tugging onto an identity card. "Dr Kim Wooshik?"

He does not reply immediately but stares at your hopeful face.

"I'll see you tomorrow." Jimin says before you could register. Head whipping up to the man in front of you, you watch the way his tongue swipe between his lips, wetting his lower lip as he awaits your response.

"I- are you serious? How do I contact you then?" You stood up when he did.

Your breath hitched in your throat as he closes up on you. Handsome face leaning towards yours as his supple lips lands on your right ear to whisper, "I'll call you."

As he leans back, your eyes catches sight on his hand lifting to your face with your watch in his hands. Eyes widening, you lifted your wrist to find it empty.

"How-"

"I'll see you tomorrow. Stay safe." He walks away, turning around briefly to flash a smile as you stood alone, baffled.

[boyduroy]

Shave and A Haircut

Fandom: It (2017/2019)

Characters: Bill, Richie, Eddie, Stanley

Word count: 2,044

Genre: slice of life, hurt/comfort

Warnings: language, mentions of bullying

Synopsis: Just another day of being bullied by Bowers. Luckily Richie knows what to do.

{Not beta’d/proofread, sorry for any typos}

Bill, Eddie, and Richie are all sitting at the Tozier dining room table, waiting for the fourth member of their party to arrive. Their geometry homework is spread out across the wooden table, most of it unsolved, along with an array of snacks, most of which have already been devoured. Bill looks at the old clock on the wall as Richie and Eddie bicker over who gets the last of the barbeque-flavored potato chips. Stanley should have been done with baseball practice 30 minutes ago, and it doesn’t usually take him this long to bike to Richie’s house. Bill briefly considers riding up to the baseball field to check on him when a knock comes from the front door.

“About time,” Richie mutters, quickly swiping the final few chips from Eddie’s hand as he gets up to answer the door.

“Richie, you turd!” Eddie screams as

“Y’snooze, you lose, skeddi-boy,” Richie calls back to the dining room with a mouthful of chips. He rubs his hands on the edge of his shirt as he reaches for the door handle. He doesn’t remember locking it, and Stan knows he can let himself in, but Richie figures his friend is just being his usual polite self.

“Stan the man,” he announces loudly, swinging the door open. “Where’ve you been? You know we suck at math…”

Richie trails off as he takes in the sight of Stanley on his front porch. The other boy’s head is hung, defeated, and his baseball cap covers his face completely. Still, Richie can see the faint outlines of tear tracks running from Stan’s chin. His knuckles are paper white as they clutch his gym bag, and aside from the usual dirt stains on his uniform, he doesn’t look too roughed up in any apparent way.

“Stanley?” Richie asks, tilting his head to peek up under the baseball cap. Stan’s face is red from either crying or from exercise, or possibly a combination of the two. “What’s wrong?”

Stan sniffs, his dark brown eyes refusing to meet Richie’s. “May I come in please,” he asks, his voice a bit raw.

Richie pulls him inside, taking his gym bag from him. “Go sit down on the couch, I’ll grab you a glass of water.” As Stanley quietly kicks his cleats off near the front door, Richie races to the kitchen, tosses the bag down haphazardly, and grabs a clean glass from the cupboard. Any other day he would’ve just grabbed one of the dirty ones from the sink, which would’ve earned him an earful from both Stan and Eddie about how gross that was – “I drank from it earlier, so why should it matter?” – but right now was not the time to instigate. As he fills the glass from the kitchen sink, Eddie and Bill poke their heads in.

“What’s going on, Rich?” Eddie asks. “You drop something?”

Richie hurries back to the living room, trying not to spill the glass that he accidentally filled up with too much water. “Something happened to Stan,” he calls over his shoulder. “Come on, he’s in here.”

“What h-happened?!” Bill asks worriedly, he and Eddie hot on Richie’s heels as the three of them come to gather around Stan, now sitting stiffly on the edge of the couch. Richie offers him the glass, which spills a little onto the couch cushion, but Stanley accepts it and takes a drink. Eddie perches next to him, his hand on Stan’s shoulder, and subconsciously starts checking his friend for any signs of outward injury.

“You alright, Stanley?” Eddie asks. Stan swallows the water eagerly and gasps, handing the now half-full glass back to Richie. He nods but continues to look down, his face still obscured by his baseball cap.

“What happened?” Bill asks again.

“Bowers and his gang…” Stanley answers quietly. He suddenly shrinks into himself, unwilling to reveal any further information. “I can’t, it’s embarrassing.”

Bill kneels, putting a gentle hand on Stan’s knee. “It’s okay, you can tell us. W-why don’t you take off your h-hat so we can hear you better.”

“I can’t.”

“Huh?” Bill blinks, confused.

“I can’t take it off,” Stan repeats.

Richie smirks. “Don’t worry about your hat hair, Stanley, we’ve all been ther—”

“No.” Stan sniffles and looks up finally, his brown eyes swimming with tears. “I can’t take off my hat, Richie, because Henry Bowers and his asshole friends put krazy glue in it,” he enunciates sharply. “My hat. Is glued. To my head.”

The three of them stare stunned at their friend, whose head falls back down sadly. Bill can feel his own face growing hot with anger. Fucking Bowers… It was one of the cruelest pranks you could do to someone: paint the inner brim of their hat with krazy glue and just wait for them to put it on.

Eddie is the first to break the silence. “Oh Stanley,” he whispers, his own eyes threatening to mist. “It’s okay, you’re okay.” He rubs Stanley’s shoulder and looks to the other two. “What should we do, guys?”

Bill strides towards the door. “I’m guh-gonna got kick the sh-sh-shit out of Bowers,” he says matter-of-factly. Stan is on his feet in an instant.

“Please no, Bill! Don’t, he’ll do something worse to you,” Stanley yells, grabbing Bill’s shirt. Bill tries to shake him off as he opens the front door. “Please, it’s okay—”

“It’s not okay, Stan! He hurt you!”

Stan hardens. “Fine, I know, it’s not okay. It fucking sucks. But I don’t want you to get hurt fighting my battles for me! Bowers is going to get what’s coming to him eventually, but I don’t want you or anyone else getting hurt today.” He loosens his grip and sighs, rubbing his face. “Just… leave it alone, okay? For now, at least. Please?”

Bill huffs but eventually closes the door again.

“Fine,” he says, resting a hand on the offending baseball cap on Stan’s head. “But we still need to figure out what we’re g-going to do about th-this.”

“You’re gonna have to cut it off, I guess,” Richie offers.

Stan frowns. “No, I can’t. It’ll look so stupid.” He tries gently tugging the cap, but it doesn’t budge. “There’s got to be another way.”

Eddie approaches and carefully inspects where the hat and Stan’s hair are connected. “He really did a number,” he admits. “It’s stuck to your scalp in some places.”

Stanley groans. “Great,” he sighs.

“It’s just hair, it’ll grow back,” Richie insists. “My dad has some clippers in his bathroom, we can take care of it right now.”

Stanley shakes his head. “I especially don’t want to shave my whole head, Richie!”

“Why not? It’s just hair.”

“It’s my hair!” Stan argues. “Excuse me if I don’t want to look like Sinead O’Connor the rest of the school year!”

“It’ll grow back, Stanley!”

“I don’t care!”

“Oh my god, you are so sensitive,” Richie grumbles as he marches off and slams his parents’ bedroom door. Bill is about to suggest something when they hear the telltale buzz of an electric razor. The three of them are frozen in place.

“He wouldn’t,” Eddie says, looking wide-eyed at the other two.

They stumble past one another as they race to the bedroom and Bill pounds on the bathroom door. “Richie, what are you doing?!” he yells over the loud buzz of the razor. He tries the doorknob but it’s locked.

“Hey dumbass, you proved your point,” Eddie shouts at the door. “Cut it out, you’re freaking us out!”

Finally, after a few more bangs on the wood and jiggling the doorknob, does the buzzer click off and the door swing open. Richie stands there proudly, glasses off, clippers in hand, and with a freshly (and poorly) buzzed head.

“See? I told you it’s not a big deal, you wuss,” he says, gesturing to himself. The other three just stare at him in utter shock until Stan finally sputters.

“Richie, you… you--” Stanley says, then dips his head down into his hands, his shoulders beginning to shake. Richie frowns, worried for a minute that he’s crying again, but then Stanley tosses his head back and he’s laughing so uproariously. “You idiot! What the hell is wrong with you,” he asks through gasps.

The tension broken, Bill and Eddie also begin to laugh while Richie just smiles stupidly.

“You missed like so many spots, dude,” Eddie snickers. “Geez Richie, were you even trying?”

“Hey, I had to take my glasses off,” Richie protests. He tosses the razor to Bill and points to the back of his head, where tufts of black hair remained in messy patches. “Mind cleaning me up, Bill?”

Bill smirks and gets to work shaving off the rest of Richie’s hair. He actually didn’t do too bad of a job, just missed a few places here and there. At least he put a guard on it so he wasn’t just freehanding it.

“There you go,” Bill says once he’s finished. He hands Richie back his glasses and dusts the loose hair off his shirt. Richie examines himself in the mirror, his hands running over the short buzzcut.

“Looks a hell of a lot better than Sinead, if I do say so myself,” Richie remarks, satisfied with his handiwork. He throws a look to the other boys and grabs a pair of mustache scissors, snipping them threateningly. “Your turn, Stanley.”

Stan shakes his head quickly. “Not from you, four-eyes.” He takes the scissors and hands them to Bill. “Please be gentle.”

Bill nods and carefully starts cutting away the worst of the glue/hat/hair combination until the hat is freed, along with a substantial amount of hair. Eddie throws it unceremoniously into the trashcan. Stanley shuts his eyes, not wanting to see how ridiculous he looks with half his hair missing. Then Bill methodically shaves away the rest of his golden curls and it’s over before he knows it.

“Okay, you can look, if y-you want to.”

Stanley peeks one eye open and looks in the mirror. His face looks back at him, now sporting the same crewcut as Richie. It’s… not as bad as he thought it would be.

“It’s different,” he admits, touching the short prickly hairs gingerly. His heart aches for just a moment. It sucks but Richie was right: it’s just hair, and it’ll grow back. He glances at Richie. “I think I pull it off better than you, at least.”

Richie feigns a wounded look, clutching his chest dramatically. “Hey, whoa, watch yourself there, Staniel! Don’t forget, you copied me. I started this trend.”

They all laugh at this, then Bill looks at himself in the mirror, shrugs, and buzzes a line right down the middle of his head. They watch with amazement as he gives himself a haircut to match, smiling the whole time. Afterwards he clicks the buzzer off and turns to his friends, offering another shrug.

“I wanted to f-fit in with the cool k-kids. This look is v-very in right now.”

Stanley beams and throws his arms around Bill and Richie. “You guys are so dumb, but thank you,” he says. The three of them hug, then Richie looks mischievously at Eddie, who suddenly pales.

“Eds,” he states. “Snip, snip.”

Eddie glances between the three of them who now appear to be ganging up on him. He sighs and digs into his fanny pack. “My mom’s gonna think I joined a cult,” he mutters to himself. He pulls out his inhaler, takes a big puff, and looks to Bill. “Do it.”

Soon brunette hair joins the piles of auburn, blonde and black on the floor of Maggie and Wentworth’s bathroom. The boys take turns dusting each other off and inspecting one another for any missed spots, but Bill was careful and thorough and they all look good, if not a little bit off for the current fashion. Stanley felt grateful for his friends, idiots though they may be, for always making sure he was never alone in his suffering. They return to their long-forgotten snacks and homework, enjoying the pleasant company of one another – until the cry of “RICHARD TOZIER, WHAT IN GODS NAME HAVE YOU DONE TO YOURSELF” from Richie’s mom interrupted their time together.