#reading and learning and thinking and understanding this world we call home

[bluedelilah]

The end of an era 😔 my thesis on platonic love and historical gay affairs disguised as a 17th century poetry translation analysis is done...

🫢 Funeral orations 💫 or 🥱 passive aggressive plagiarism accusations 🌠

[nothingwithdignity]

Of all the people to found the Cobalt Soul, it always had to be someone like Crokas. If you give the Orb of Avalir to someone seeking intelligence, seeking power, seeking mystery, or fame, you end up with the Cerberus Assembly at best. To be perfectly honest, I think in just about any other context it becomes a source of division rather than any kind of lasting foundation. It works because Crokas is the last person who would ever pursue it, but he's also the kind of person who is going to use it once he has it. He's not going to squirrel it away for someday because that's just not how he thinks and he doesn't see having it as something to brag about because he needs the time to understand what he has.

This whole order is built by a man who understood how to move through the world with strength alone but needed to learn how to learn, needed to discover what it meant to understand. For him, the ability to fight is innate, the ability to comprehend is earned. I would argue that for the large majority of people, this would be the other way around. In realms where knowledge is so sought after, most are taught to read and write, to think and to question before they are taught to fight because the priority of their pursuits is better served by the softer skills.

Crokas isn't like that. And so the place he builds is one where he is at home and where he is understood.

The Cobalt Soul, as we know it best, looks a little different now. It's had time to spread across nations and continents. It's grown to look a little more like you would expect at first glance. It's been built into a behemoth that obscures it's roots in a dragonborn monk with a complicated past, but there's still room for people like Crokas. Like Beauregard.

She comes to the Cobalt Soul with a complicated family background, no home to call her own, and more fire than patience. She knows how to fight, but not how to listen or understand. She needs to be taught the value of information and the possibilities that come from the vast wealth of knowledge at her fingertips. And it doesn't happen immediately because, again, behemoth, but she finds a place in this organization for a person who needs to learn how to learn. In spite of the fact that she doesn't fit naturally into an organization that prioritizes knowledge, she is afforded the time and opportunity to figure it out on her own terms. She is given a chance to find the balance.

They came to the Cobalt Soul a little bit broken, a little bit out of their element. They knew strength, they learned to listen. They became something great because they were given the space to be who they had always been, just with a little bit more. Crokas built a place for the people like him, and centuries later, Beauregard Lionett found it.

[ahundredtimesover]

I Want You to Stay (11) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut

Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; mentions of childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, attempted assault; mention of past experience of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts, business/property devt, and book talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; sexual content (making out - I know, finally) (18+)

Chapter Word count: 23.5k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.

Playlist 🎶: on the way home

A/N: Hiii so this was quite the wait! We have come to the climax of the story and I'm both excited and terrified to share this with you. I have nothing more to say other than see you on the other side! 🤭🤭

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight  🥰

PS. If I can’t tag you, pls fix your settings!

Whenever Jungkook creates some distance between you and him, you often understand it. It’s his default, you think, and after learning about the pain he harbors from his childhood, you’ve come to accept it. You expect it, even. 

Recently though, he hasn’t been doing much of it. He often moves closer; sometimes, he lets you do it. Tonight, it’s both - he stands near you, he holds you, and he lets you slowly close the distance until you’re just a breath away. And for a brief moment, you think that he’d eliminate it altogether. 

But you’re not in some fantasy world, so when he pulls away, you’re reminded of who you are and who he is and that sliver of hope goes up in flames. 

“I—” he mumbles. 

“I should go,” you interject, turning away so as not to see any more of the rejection in his eyes. “Have a good evening, Mr. Jeon.”

You grab your bag then rush outside, exhaling the breath you were holding in and letting the shame fill you up as fast as the elevator reaches the first floor. You want to run to rid yourself of the embarrassment, maybe be irresponsible for once and get drunk just to forget. Maybe when you wake up in the morning, you’ll find out it was all a dream - you didn’t actually want to kiss your boss, you didn’t actually think he’d kiss you back, and he didn’t actually pull away, as if it stung him to touch you, as if it hurt him to try. 

But the thought doesn’t last long.

You get on a bus and convince yourself that staying sober tonight is a better option than reporting hungover to work tomorrow. You’ll feel embarrassed either way, but might as well be more professional about it, considering that what you’d almost done - and all the things you thought about - was nothing but that. You settle for just cup noodles for dinner; you don’t deserve anything nicer than that tonight. 

Sleep doesn’t come until past one later in the evening. You spend much of your time tossing and turning, trying hard to erase the image of Jungkook so close to you. 

But nothing works. All you see are his lips. All you can hear is his breathing. All you can smell is him. 

You wake up four hours later, exhausted and incredibly anxious for the day. You want it to be over already, and you half think of calling in sick but you know that’ll be too obvious. It could set off alarm bells to Jungkook and he might call and ask how you are, and that’s something you can’t deal with either. So you power through and nap in the car, not wanting to converse with Mr. Ri because you might tell him everything should he ask the right questions.

Your plan of action is to engage with Jungkook as little as you can, in any way that’s possible. You play around with things in his kitchen and make sure you have your back turned when he exits from his gym. The energy drink and glass of water are on the counter and you sense him lingering before he finally walks to his bedroom. You let some time pass before going to his closet to prepare his accessories for the day, then head back out, cooking his omelet as slowly as you can.

The clearing of his throat lets you know he’s done, and you glance at him before placing the dishes on the table. 

This isn’t the routine. You always fix his necktie once he shows up. It’s reflex for you, and you know that’s what he’s come to expect as well. 

But you can’t bring yourself to do that right now. It’s basically like re-enacting what happened last night and you can’t promise yourself that you won’t want to kiss him again when he’s that close. You can’t look him in the eyes, you can’t take in his scent, you can’t hear his breathing without remembering how he felt like. You know you can’t have it again, so you won’t even torture yourself even more than you already are.

His tie is slightly off and it disturbs you. He doesn’t move but he doesn’t ask you to fix it. 

You sigh to yourself. He’ll live. 

You eat quickly and it’s a contrast to him picking on his food. You’re tempted to ask if the dish isn’t to his liking, but you told yourself not to start conversations or engage in anything outside of work matters, and you’ll stick to that for as long as possible. 

“___.”

“Mr. Jeon, I’ve prepared your notes for today’s meetings,” you state before he could say anything more. “And I’m meeting with the marketing team about the additional promotional materials you wanted. Is there anything else you wish to add to the ones we talked about?”

“None for now. They can go ahead with my initial request,” he responds, his voice too soft than what you’re used to, but you don’t dare look up and meet his eyes.

You ask a few more questions and he responds accordingly. The silence is deafening and though you miss the playful banter that has become part of your mornings, you know you can’t get into that right now. Somehow, this is when you can’t act like everything’s normal. Your stupid mistake and foolish assumption is where you draw the line. You just hope the day ends quickly enough before you give in. 

Both of you head down to the car. Before going inside, you hear Jungkook ask Mr. Ri how he looks and if his tie is fixed, and you internally smack your head for being so petty about this. You didn’t think that something seemingly trivial about your daily routine with him would affect you this much, as if it somehow threw things off-balance just because you were so afraid to be close. You realize now that you would look forward to those few seconds because that was the only time you had a reason to touch him. 

But he’s everything you can’t desire and given that you almost crossed a line, you know you’re gonna have to slowly pull back. Not just with regards to your feelings but in everything, as you take a peek of your personal phone and see an email notification about an upcoming book launch from Rkive Publishing. You subscribed to their mailing list right after you met their director, and you’ve been sitting on his email address and the application letter you have yet to submit. 

Since that encounter, you’ve been occasionally looking at other job opportunities in different fields. You realize that nothing much excites you. There’s not much you think is worth slaving your way for in this corporate jungle, and that while you’re currently part of that machine, the only thing that got you going these past eight years was the debt you had to pay. 

You had your reasons to stay but being at this point when you’re ready to let that go, you’re realizing that there wasn’t much else about the job that got you truly excited. Sure, it was also the people, but they’re why you couldn’t leave. It wasn’t until the planning for the Arts Center that you felt you could truly be invested in a project and have impact on it, too; it just so happens that the man behind it is the reason why you have to step away. You know it’s the only way you could finally choose yourself and pursue what you want. At 31, you owe it to yourself to do that. 

Your thoughts are disrupted when the familiar building comes into view, and you exit the car and head to your floor, trailing Jungkook this time instead of walking by his side as what you’ve come to do. You can tell that he notices the distance but you don’t want to address it. Being terrible at any form of confrontation, you don’t really want to acknowledge anything that happened. You’ll deal with him if he brings it up, and for all the times that you screwed up, you wish to the heavens that Jungkook lets this one go. 

You head to your desk while he heads to his. You make him his coffee then ask him to sign some documents. You focus on his hands as he flips through the pages, preferring to look at those instead of his face. But it’s those fingers that pressed against you last night, and you shake your head at the memory, even if all you want is to feel them again.

You retrieve the papers, your heart stopping when he doesn’t let them go right away. Your eyes widen and you still don’t look at him, even as you anticipate him to say something.

“___.”

“Mr. Min asked to meet with you after lunch,” you cut him off again before he could say more.

“I know. That email was sent to you and me.”

“Yes, sir. I was just making sure.”

He lets go of the papers now and you bow before quickly heading out. You just know he had his eyebrows scrunched at you. He’s probably trying to make sense of how jittery you seem and though he may know why, you’re not sure if he knows why.

You get through the morning in one piece. You attend your meeting while Jungkook attends his own with his father. You grab a quick lunch with Do-hyun, whose narration of her love life takes up the whole half hour, then you return to your tasks once you finish.

Hyper-focused on the file you’re reviewing, Yoongi’s usually unenthusiastic greeting catches you off guard, causing your lips to miss the hot tea that you’re about to drink. You jerk, spilling all of it on you. You subsequently hit the saucer that’s on the edge of the table; it falls on the floor and breaks.

“Fuck!” You whisper yell, as you feel the drink pool on your skirt.

“Shit, is it burning?” Yoongi asks worriedly. 

He immediately rushes to your side and grabs some paper towels from the cabinet, placing them on your lap and on the floor.

“Don’t move so you don’t spread the broken pieces,” he instructs. “Are you hurt?”

“No. I’m just uncomfortable,” you groan, with your knees awkwardly touching each other and your thighs squeezed to keep the liquid from spreading. 

You’re at least in a black skirt but you know the stain will still be visible. That’s the least of your problems though, as Jungkook arrives from his meeting and heads to you with a folder, only to find Yoongi kneeling on the floor next to you. Jungkook’s eyes widen, seemingly scandalized at what this looks like, and they flit from you to his friend, whose calm face quickly turns into one of panic. 

“She spilled her tea and the saucer broke,” Yoongi explains, raising the soiled paper towels as evidence. He tells you to move back so he can place them over the shards while Jungkook looks on intently. “Are you good? Do you have spare clothes?” Yoongi asks you.

“Uh, ye-yeah,” you manage to say, hating how frozen you seem to be. With the tea having been absorbed, you grab your bag from your cabinet, the one you’ve started to keep and bring with you during trips in case you get stranded again, then throw the towels in the trash bin. “I’ll just go get changed.”

You scurry towards the washroom and leave the men alone, knowing that Yoongi will hold the fort for both of you. 

Back inside, Jungkook eyes Yoongi as he calls for maintenance to clean up the mess.

“She spilled her tea and the saucer broke,” Yoongi says again. “She couldn’t move and I just cleaned up.”

“I heard you the first time,” Jungkook states.

“Just making sure, so your mind doesn’t think of whatever it thinks about,” Yoongi shrugs. “But is she okay? She seems a bit out of it.”

“I don’t know,” Jungkook looks away. “Don’t you usually know those things?”

“Well, I assume that since you’ve gotten closer, you would know. Unless it’s about you… Were you mean to her again?”

Yoongi’s unusual scowl is one that Jungkook is secretly terrified of but he acts unaffected, merely shaking his head in response and to dismiss the assumption. He’ll admit that his friend’s statement is quite bittersweet, though. Yes, you and Jungkook have both gotten closer and there hasn’t been an incident in months where you could’ve had a reason to be down because of him. 

Unless last night counts, which is something he’s still wrapping his head around. 

He thinks back to that moment right by your desk. You were so close. And he was so close to doing something more than just holding onto your waist. He saw you eye his lips and he did the same but the realization of where you both were - in a semi-open space in the office - reminded him of his limits. Sure, it was after-hours and no one would have any reason to be on the floor at that time, but it still felt too exposed and he didn’t want either of you to be put in such a compromising position, even if every part of his body was aching to kiss you. 

He wouldn’t have known you were talking about him if it weren’t for the way you held him close and that unfamiliar look of yearning in your eyes. At that moment, he let himself hope that he’s who you wanted, even if he’s also the same man you believed wouldn’t cross his boundaries for you.

Even then, you had been so bold, so honest. He wished he was as brave and as capable to express his desires as you were. He never thought you’d feel anything for him - him, the one who made your life miserable for weeks, the one who treated you unfairly because you made him feel - and want - things he couldn’t understand and control. Your calm and warm nature made him think he wasn’t anyone special. He dismissed whatever part of him that thought otherwise because he couldn’t hope for something he couldn’t have.

But last night, the way you looked at him also made him feel like all he desired was within reach, like you were within his grasp. Your lips were everything he wanted all over him. Your soft breaths were what he wanted to take in. You were all he wanted to taste and touch and hear, and he’d been so, so close to crossing a line that he said he wouldn’t because he was afraid it would push you away and that’s the last thing he wants to do.

He was overwhelmed but he was just as scared, believing that there’s no turning back if something had happened. He almost stepped over the line but pulled back just as quickly, and now it seems that that’s what’s keeping you at a distance. Because as you return to your desk, you merely bow at him then go through the folder of documents he’d given you.

“Yoongi and I will just meet for an hour,” he says. “Please be ready with the Arts Center opening event budget that I’ll go through with Hoseok later.”

“That’s noted, sir.”

Jungkook sighs in disappointment as you don’t spare him a glance. He just wants to see those eyes again, the ones that yearned for him last night, the ones that asked him - almost challenged him - to get closer. But he’d been the coward who let you go, and now he doesn’t know how to turn back from this.

He enters his room then turns around to face Yoongi.

“I feel so much and I don’t know what to do.”

“I know,” his friend hums, feeling relieved that Jungkook can now acknowledge something he’d known for a while now. But Yoongi also knows that it’s not that simple, and while he knows of the possibility that you feel the same, reciprocated feelings don’t always mean happy endings. “Just don’t… just don’t hurt her,” he adds.

“Why do I feel like whatever I do, it’s what I’ll end up doing anyway?”

“She’ll know when you mean it and when you don’t. And you know what helps?”

“What?”

“Letting her know that hurting her isn’t what you want to do. You’ve got a lot to say, Jungkook, I know it,” Yoongi remarks. “Just be brave enough to say them.”

Yoongi’s words linger in Jungkook’s mind for the rest of the day, especially during the times that he peeks through the window to get a glimpse of you. You seem determined not to look his way, as you don’t even attempt to look at his direction all afternoon. There is a lot he’s got to say, he just doesn’t know what they are or how to say them. It’s always been that way when it comes to you - he feels so much, but he's unable to let you know.

Despite your avoidance all day, he feels your absence even more when you leave at 6PM, on the dot, without sparing him a glance. He could run after you and ask to talk. He wouldn’t know how to start that conversation though, but if it would bring you to finally look at him or say his name, then it would be enough. 

He just wants to know what last night meant for you. And if it means what he hopes it does, then maybe it isn’t about turning back but moving forward. He knows it will be complicated, but he wants to figure it out with you. He’ll choose the path where he gets to be around you, close to you. Always.

Jungkook pulls out the bottle of whiskey he keeps in his drawer to momentarily drown out these thoughts. For some, liquor gives them courage. For him, he drinks it because he’s afraid to be brave.

As he replays the way you looked at him last night, he wonders to himself what he’s more scared of - never having you close enough, or losing you completely. 

The three films you watch in the cinema that Saturday afternoon are a good distraction to all the thoughts in your head. You occasionally do this because watching other people’s lives play out in film gives you something to ponder about. Sometimes, you let it inspire you to live differently. Other times, it allows you a peek into a life much more exciting than the one you have. In some instances, it gives you a sense of relief that yours is uneventful, lacking in drama and intrigue.

At this moment, you’re not quite sure what you want out of it other than to forget. What exactly, you’re not sure. Is it the way you felt when Jungkook held you? Is it the way he seemed to want more and then nothing at all? Or is it the hope you had that you’d found someone you were willing to give a bit of yourself to, only for the glass to shatter because that’s not what you do - you don’t desire for things not meant for you; you don’t open yourself to heartbreak like that. 

Jungkook has always made you feel a lot of things. This time is no different. But this time it also means more. You could lose him completely or have something with him that could be beautiful. One would hurt right away and the other could hurt you down the road. You don’t know which one you’re willing to suffer through. 

Suddenly you wish you didn’t get to this point at all. You could’ve left when you had the chance. You could’ve let him not mean to you this much. 

You continue to wallow in the sadness. You eat dinner at a ramen place before going home and settling in bed with your best friends on video call. You tell them about the past two days and narrate your moments with Jungkook during the team building that you left out when you spoke to them about it. Looking at them through the screen, you see a mix of understanding and frustration on their faces. 

“Why are you avoiding him, hun?” Soomin asks, her eyes soft and comforting.

“Because I’m so embarrassed,” you groan, burying your face on the pillow. “I was so… shameless. I don’t even know what got into me. He just looked at me and I… lost all sense. Who was I to assume that moment would end well? That he’d reciprocate that honesty?”

“And you think not talking about it will rid you of that embarrassment?” She wonders.

“No. But it’s at least better than facing it,” you frown. “I’m not good with words nor feelings. And I’m sure that neither is he. I’m just trying to be professional now because I obviously wasn’t.”

You leave out your fears about meeting his eyes and hearing what he has to say. Even if he returns whatever you feel, there’s so much burden tied to that and you don’t think you’re ready for it. You don’t think you’re ready for any of this.

“It doesn’t seem sustainable though,” Soomin points out. “You’re together all the time. You’ve created a routine and a dynamic that you’ve gotten so used to. It takes more effort to avoid the whole thing, don’t you think?”

“I guess but… we’re all busy with the Arts Center opening. And I plan on tending my resignation right after,” you explain. “There’s no time to talk about feelings. I’ll just let it die down. It’s stupid to have them in the first place.” 

The prolonged silence prompts you to turn towards her. “You don’t agree with me, do you?”

“I just don’t think it’s stupid to be feeling what you’re feeling,” Soomin replies. “You spend so much time together. You’re bound to form some attachment and develop affection for him, regardless of how things started. I mean, through all the late-nights and early mornings and stresses and comfort in between, there’s something only two of you share and understand. That’s not stupid. That’s how connections are formed, hun.”

Attachment. Connection. They terrify you but they’re things that you desire as well. You don’t know how deep they are when it comes to Jungkook and you don’t know if they’re something he feels towards you, too.

“Maybe you’re just trying to convince yourself that it isn’t that serious,” she adds. “Maybe it’s because you know that it is, and you don’t know if it’s worth pursuing, if it’s worth finding out if he returns it and if being with him is something that can happen.”

You look away, knowing the truth in her words. You turn to Jimin, who’s been unusually quiet all evening.

“What do you think Jimin?” You ask him. “I mean, it’s one thing to feel something and another to act on it and risk everything for it, right?”

“There’s always something you risk once you acknowledge what you feel for another person,” he says after pondering about it. “For me, acting on it just depends on two things. Is it good for me, and is it good for them? In your case, it’s something to really think about. You’re you and he’s him. And you know what I mean. You’ve been wanting to walk away from this company for years, ___. You wanna be something outside of it. How does being with your boss help with that?”

Jimin’s words remind you of something else you’ve been yearning for - that search for who you are outside of your work, outside of all the years you spent working for this family that have become a core part of who you are. For people like you who have to work extra hard for the things you have, it becomes natural for your job to define you as a means of survival. It doesn’t give you power nor influence; it just gives you a means to get to the next day and to give back to the one person who sacrificed everything for you. 

As the years went by, it became more difficult to pull away. This family trusts you, and your confidence has only ever increased as an employee of this company, but not as a professional. You’ve been wanting to learn who you are without the burdens you carry, without the need to constantly prove yourself to the people who helped make you, and Jungkook ties you to all this. Whether it’s pursuing him or working for him, you’re afraid you’ll never be brave enough to do things on your own.

You weren’t supposed to be this attached. You weren’t supposed to be this invested. You weren’t supposed to want to be wanted back. 

But Jungkook made you care. He made you feel. He made you be brave. And he’s now the one you have to pull away from.

“You’re right,” you sigh. “Maybe in a way, I needed this to happen. I needed this… moment to remind me that I have to leave and I can’t let him be another reason for me to stay, not when I feel what I feel, and not when I don’t know if he feels the same way.”

“What if he does, though?” Soomin asks. “And what if he asks you to stay?”

“Thinking about it now, I hope he doesn’t,” you say. “It’d be much easier for me if he just lets me go. I can finally walk away from all this. And I can get over what I feel.”

“Is that what you really want?” Soomin adds.

You nod in response. “At least I know I’ll be happy outside of working for the company. Who knows what having him in my life would bring me?”

The book cafe in Mapo district boasts of an elegant yet comfortable design. It has three levels that consist of a library and working spaces, but it’s on the first floor that you find yourself in, tucked in one of the corner tables at the back with your iced coffee and fruit tart. 

You listen in awe as the author reads excerpts from her newly released book, which she narrates with vigor and emotion. She answers questions about her purpose for writing this specific story, the inspiration for the characters, and interesting things like who she’d cast if it were to become a movie and what the playlist would sound like. It’s the first book launch you’ve ever been to, and despite not being an avid reader, you have a feeling that it won’t be your last. 

There’s something about the storytelling and the process of creating something that captivates you. There’s not much of that in your world. It’s all numbers and profits. It’s soulless, if you’re being honest. It doesn’t give you time to feel or live in the moment or actually bask in the work that you do. You’re there to support, to assist, and while that used to be something you were proud of, the past year has made you think that it’s truly time to move on from it. It’s made you desensitized to things like joy and hope and love, which prompts you to realize that those are what have been missing. Working on the Arts Center gave you a taste of it. You’ve come to the point where you want to know how those truly feel like, and the job has hindered you from fully finding it out.

All your emotions for Jungkook take a backseat the more you think about what your life could be, especially while you watch Namjoon gather what seems to be his team, as he congratulates them for a successful launch. They’re all in casual clothes, looking relaxed, relieved, and fulfilled as the event comes to a close and several people approach the author and ask her to sign their books. You can imagine the stress leading up to all this, but there’s satisfaction in putting together something this intimate and meaningful. 

“You made it,” the man with the soft smile says, the child-like innocence of his face, a contrast to his very masculine build. “I’m glad those newsletters and email invites work.”

“I think they’re the only ones I actually read,” you say, earning you a brighter smile from him. “But honestly though, it helps that a book cafe is something I wouldn’t mind being in on a Sunday morning.”

“Exactly!” Namjoon beams. “It’s easy to make it a part of your weekend. Whether it translates to immediate sales isn’t the whole point, although that’s great, don’t get me wrong. But as long as there’s foot traffic and increased interest, then it’s a success. Our launches have been gaining traction on social media. And the—shit, sorry. I’m rambling again,” he chuckles. “I doubt you came here with the intention of listening to me talk about what we do and stuff.”

“Oh, I don’t mind at all,” you assure him. “I don’t actually go to things like this but I thought it might be a good way to have a feel of what it’s like working for your company without inconveniencing you. I mean, I haven’t applied yet but I just wanted to see if this is something I’d enjoy doing.”

“And?” He asks in anticipation.

“It kind of is,” you admit. “I don’t know. There’s just something so personal about it.”

“There really is,” Namjoon nods.

His face turns serious now, something that happens when he’s about to go on a speech about whatever it is he feels strongly about. He’s expressive and it’s quite captivating, which is refreshing in a colleague, you realize. 

Sitting across from you in your little nook in the cafe, he talks about the journey of this whole process, how he reached out to the author who turned out was trying to contact him as well. He was hoping to publish one of her manuscripts that was shared to him by a friend, but she offered this one instead, a very personal story that she trusted his company would do justice. 

“I sat the whole team down and told them what this means for her as an author and as a person, and what that in turn could mean to the readers,” he continues. “There’s so much responsibility but the return is worth more than you could imagine. Of course, it’s not always easy. We have a relatively small team for the amount of things that we have to do but it works. Communication is smooth, accountability is shared, and we build our trust and respect in each other that way. I think that makes it even more worth it in the end.”

“You’re really trying to lure me in, aren’t you?” You laugh.

“Pretty much,” he chuckles. “I just think our meetings are serendipitous. There were two people who were supposed to take on the role but they backed out last minute - on both cases, I see you the next day. The universe probably has plans.”

“It probably does,” you nod, slowly believing him. “The only reason why I haven’t applied yet is because this is all so new to me and I may not be what you’re looking for.”

“But it could be that we’re what you’re looking for,” he counters. “Even if the industry is new to you, if it’s a place you’re comfortable in and that you think will help you grow professionally, then you become what we need. It’s give and take, really. Your approach to the work impacts how you do it. Yes, it’s still a job but it also means a lot more.”

“You’re very good at this,” you say, feeling more at ease as you speak with him, a stranger who has no idea what you’re going through but is somehow saying the exact things you need to hear. “I just have a timeline I’m working around. My company has an important thing coming up in several weeks and I don’t want to leave before then. It’s also why I’ve been delaying applying.”

“Hey, if we see that we’re a good fit for each other, then we can work around your timeline,” he says. “To help with that, maybe we can chat more casually to relieve you of the pressure. I have some things to return to the office not far from here and you can tell me a bit about the work that you do. What do you think?”

It’s a suggestion you take up, so you both start walking a few streets down to a mid-rise building, a structure that sits amidst cozy cafes and small parks. 

The Rkive Publishing office is spacious. Instead of solo desks, there are large tables so there are more opportunities for collaborations, but there are small meeting rooms and private spaces as well. There are floor-to-ceiling windows, shelves that are lined with hundreds of books, and quirky art pieces that give the place a unique yet personal touch. It’s leagues different from what you’re used to, and as you appreciate the way the sunlight makes the whole place glow, you start to think that Namjoon may be right - this might just be what you’re looking for. 

You disclose who you work for then tell him your functions, narrate how a usual day looks like, and mention the types of people you usually engage with. But you share how you’ve felt lost in the chaos of everything and that you’ve been trying to find purpose in it but have been unable to. 

Namjoon purses his lips, attempting to hide a smile, but you call him out on it.

“I’m just trying not to get too excited,” he reasons, giving in and chuckling now. “We need organization, a sense of urgency, a kind of professionalism that someone of your caliber could bring. I don’t want to get my hopes up and yes, there’s a process, but I hope you give us a chance.”

It’s easy to think that this man has no idea what he’s saying, but he’s been talking about going with his gut feeling all morning - he’s said as much that following his heart and doing what feels right for him allowed him to turn the company into what it is right now. Maybe meeting the first time was just a coincidence, but the pull of the universe - of you to this environment and him to you - is just too strong that you can’t help but think that maybe this is the next step for you. For all the challenges you went through all these years, maybe you deserve something a little more smooth sailing this time. 

You don’t make any promises but you do assure him that you’ll send him an email. There are obviously other pressing matters that you have to deal with but this has been a good distraction, one that you allow to preoccupy you for the rest of the day. 

After saying goodbye, you walk around the neighborhood and spend the afternoon by the river where you wonder about the people surrounding you. 

What dilemmas are they facing? What heartbreaks are they trying to move on from? What new adventure are they preparing for? Or maybe, who are they trying to forget? Who’s waiting at home for them? Are they watching the sunset because they know it’s beautiful or because they’ve forgotten that it is? 

You let out a breath once the sun has dipped and the sky has turned a dark shade of blue. You feel a mix of awe at its beauty and disappointment because the day has come to an end. You once more have to face the person you’ve been trying not to think about all weekend.

Giving yourself a pep talk, you go to bed that night with the plan of continuing what you did last Friday, which is avoiding any moments and any chances of talking about what happened. If Jungkook brings it up, then you’ll just have to face it and ask him to forget about that night and then deal with the consequences after. But there’s no way that you’ll say anything first; you’ll ride this out for as long as you can.

Avoiding talking to Jungkook about non-work matters - which is really what you only intended to do - is much more difficult when you have to pretend you don’t care about him. 

That Monday morning, you stop yourself from asking how he’s doing after spotting the empty whiskey bottle and beer cans in his kitchen bin. While you give him the usual hangover remedy, you stop short of suggesting that he get some rest or buying him his favorite lunch dish. 

During the meeting that you accompany him to in the afternoon, you watch him helplessly as his father hounds him with questions about the other projects, adding even more pressure than what he’s currently under, and you look away when he tries to meet your eyes. You used to send him encouragement through your gentle nods and soft smiles but you’re scared you’ll fall into your feelings once again if you do them, knowing that any sign of him needing you is all it would take for you to give in and talk to him, maybe comfort him. 

You’ve become so weak for him, you realize that now. His detachment used to put you off and frustrate you, but knowing him the way you do, it’s what makes you want to be there for him; it’s what makes you want to assure him that you’re just there. 

But you aren’t, because you’re pushing him away. You’re making him go through his confusion and stress and exhaustion all on his own because you’re a coward, too. You’re scared of your own feelings. You’re scared of them being rejected and you’re scared of them being returned. You didn’t realize just how much you are because you never actually felt something this deeply for anyone, and that terrifies you even more. 

Watching him from your desk as he pores through documents on his laptop is hard, too. You’re done for the day but he’s said earlier that he’ll be staying late to finish a few things because there are many distractions at his place. You want to tell him they can wait, that he’ll need to rest and regain his energy for the week ahead, or that some fresh air could help clear his mind. 

But you don’t. Instead, you pack your things and head out, knowing that much as it’s your decision to force this distance between both of you, it’s still something you wish you didn’t have to do. You don’t know how long you can sustain it, but somehow you know that once he gives in, so will you, and so all this might as well just be useless or even worse for you. 

Mr. Ri picks up on the change the next morning, as he asks if you and Jungkook had an argument on the way to his penthouse. 

“There was no argument, ” you answer. “There’s just a lot on my mind and he’s a big part of that. I just… I just don't know how to deal with things, you know?”

“Things like what?” Mr. Ri asks. 

“Feelings,” you sigh. “I mean, you said they can’t be helped. And you’re right, I can’t. That’s my big problem right now.”

“Oh, ___,” he says, softly smiling through the rear view mirror. 

You can tell he’s trying to comfort you, something he’s told you before he’s unsure how to do. You brush him off, saying you’ll figure it out, and he assures you that you could talk to him and that maybe, you need to just let it out to someone who knows what you’re battling against. You express your appreciation then inhale deeply once you arrive at Jungkook’s building. 

The clanking sound of plates surprises you when you enter the penthouse. You walk cautiously towards the kitchen and find Jungkook already dressed in his work attire, placing the basket of toasted bread in the middle of the dining table where you spot the two plates with eggs in each. You wonder if you’re late, given that he’d gone ahead and made breakfast for both of you already. 

“You’re on time,” he says after seeing you check your watch. “I was just up early. I couldn’t really sleep. I think I have too much on my mind.”

“I still could have made this for you,” you say so softly, Jungkook almost misses it.

“I didn’t mind,” he answers, wanting to say more, like that he thought it would be nice to make something for you for a change, or that he hopes you could see the effort.

But he keeps them to himself, just like the many other things that he doesn’t feel ready to verbalize. He hasn’t stopped thinking about you since Thursday night, and he thinks that the distance you’re creating has made his desire even stronger, but so has the fear. 

He spent the weekend downing alcohol and then boxing for hours to get rid of the hangover. The lemon ginger tea he made didn’t really work. He placed the bandage on his beat-up knuckles incorrectly, not like how perfectly you’d done it once. And the chicken noodle soup he ordered when he wasn’t feeling well last night didn’t taste as good as yours. 

His mornings aren’t the same without the briefest touch from you from fixing his tie, or from the casual conversations during breakfast or in the car. There’s not much of your voice or your laughter that he hears, and definitely none of your smile that always encouraged him, that always assured him. This continues for the rest of the day, as he barely feels your presence unless he asks for it. And even then, it almost feels like you’re not there at all. 

He feels so lost without you, unable to focus and function properly without your guidance and your care. He doesn’t know how or when he’s allowed himself to need you this much but it all feels so new yet familiar. All he wants is to be near you again but he admits that seeing you consistently pull away hurts him more than anything. 

It’s why that Wednesday, he settles for only minimal glances at you in the car, why he conducts his morning meeting in a cafe instead, why he has the blinds on in his room all afternoon, and why he stays to work late and informs you that he’ll go straight to the Arts Center the next day so he’ll just meet you in the office.

He does all those so he’s forced to be around you less, so he doesn’t look up from his desk to find out that you don’t look his way anymore, so that it’s less difficult when you don’t do your usual routine with him. He at least won’t feel as bad when you don’t ask how he’s feeling if you don’t see him look terrible in the morning after not being able to sleep, or when you don’t fix his necktie for the fifth time this past week if he’s not around you in the first place. 

You’ve been going out of your way to avoid him and if he had a bit more courage, he’d probably be able to ask what Thursday night was about and if you’d really wanted to kiss him like he did. 

But he’s afraid of two things - that you’d ask him to forget all of it, or that you’d both have to figure out how to move forward if the feelings are indeed mutual. There are so many things that could go wrong but just as many that could go right - he’s scared to hurt you either way. And like he’s always said, he doesn’t know how to handle all of this; he doesn’t know how to talk about what he feels.

Thursday morning comes and while you’re relieved that you don’t have to tiptoe around Jungkook again in his own apartment and feel suffocated by the tension, you won’t lie and say that you deeply felt his absence. You also won’t deny that seeing him walk towards his office without sparing you a glance hurt you a little. You know him enough that he’s probably giving you the space that you’ve insisted on, but still, a part of you wonders if he’s just accepted it, too. 

And when you hand him his notes for his late afternoon meeting then when he leaves for the CEO’s office without a look of acknowledgment, you worry that he’s become impatient, that he’ll keep pulling away for as long as you are, and that you’ll be so far apart that you’ll start to wonder if you’d come close to him at all. 

But you did this, you remind yourself. You’d been the one to get close, to expect, and then to detach because you were so afraid of what would happen next, and what that would mean for you. He’s probably the last thread you’re holding onto, connecting you to this world that you’ve been planning on leaving for so long. Maybe you’re also scared that if he asked you to stay, you would, and the last thing you want is for him to be the reason why you can’t let go, and then resent him for it. 

You sigh in your seat as the various thoughts plague your mind. You decide to go to the pantry for a cup of tea, knowing you have some time before Jungkook’s meeting with his father is scheduled to end. 

The support team’s office is unnervingly quiet at 7PM with only Mr. Ri around, shaking his leg against the chair while browsing on his desktop. He greets you when you enter and then joins you to make his cup of coffee - his fourth for the day, he says - before you both head out the pantry and sit by the meeting table. 

There aren’t any words said as you both blow away the steam from your respective hot drinks, merely letting the tranquility of the evening envelop the two of you. A few minutes pass and Mr. Ri finally looks up and asks why you’re still here, to which you reply that you wanted to be around when Jungkook’s meeting finishes in case he needs you to do something.

“There’s no need to drop me home,” you tell him. “I can manage on my own.”

“You know Jungkook won’t like that,” Mr. Ri responds. “He has strict instructions to drive for you whenever you stay out late. I can’t and won’t disobey those orders.”

You know this, which is why you sit in silence with your hands on your lap as if you’re being scolded, and you nod. 

“Okay,” you say softly.  

“He’s worried, you know?” Mr. Ri says after a while. “He’s been asking me how you’re doing, as if you’re not at the point in your relationship where he can directly talk to you. But I’ve actually been worried about him this past week. He stays up late to work, then goes home to work out. He’s not himself lately, always out of it and just… sad.”

“Did he… did he say anything else? About us, specifically?”

“He didn’t tell me if anything happened but I’m guessing something did, something serious enough that you’d avoid him for days and personal enough that he won’t confront you about it.”

Your face falls, guilt painting it, something Mr. Ri picks up.

“It’s about your feelings, isn’t it?” He asks. “You like him and you can no longer deny it.”

You nod in confirmation, unable to verbalize the words that your heart has been screaming for weeks. 

“Is it so hard to admit? Is it so hard to talk about?” The older man asks. “I mean, he doesn’t tell me anything but I’ve known that man his whole life, ___. I’ll bet a lot and say that he feels the same way about you. Why are you both putting all your effort into avoiding each other instead of talking it out?”

“Because you know us, Mr. Ri. We’re the worst at these things,” you shake your head, choosing to disregard his statement that Jungkook may be reciprocating the feelings, knowing you’re not ready to think about it. “And you know this, too. It’s not just about what I feel. It’s about who he is and who I am and what those imply. It’s this complicated situation that I wouldn’t even be in if I just… if I was just strong enough to leave the first time. Or the second time.”

“Hey, you know it wasn’t about that,” he says. “You were always strong. You held on even when things were difficult—”

“Yeah, I just held on and now I’m here, caught in between liking my boss and wanting to stay away from him, from his family,” you groan in frustration. 

But you utter the thoughts that you only rarely entertain, only because they’re what held you back all those years ago.

“Am I being selfish, for wanting to leave after everything?” You ask. “They’ve been so good to me. And now that I crossed the line and fell for their son, I want to let everything go.”

“Is that really why you want to resign? Because you like Jungkook?”

“No… it isn’t just about that,” you sigh. “Or it is. A big part of it, but also not. I… you know I’ve been thinking about this since the whole thing with Mrs. Byun happened, and that was six years ago. But then CEO Jeon asked me to help Hoseok and I stayed. And it was even more important for him that I be there for Jungkook. And I am but now what? How can I continue knowing that I like him? And how can I find myself and learn who I am outside of this when I’m here, when this is all I’ve ever known and all I’ve ever given myself to? They’ll always be good to me. I feel selfish by staying, but I also feel that way if I leave.”

“None of that makes you selfish, ___. You always had a reason to leave and you could have, but there was also always gonna be a reason for you to stay,” he says. “But they were their reasons, not yours. Whether you stay despite what you feel for Jungkook or leave to find yourself and seek the happiness you deserve, you’re not being selfish.”

You look at the man whom you’ve known for years and he sees in your eyes a woman who’s just asking for any kind of comfort, of any kind of assurance because no else is around to do that.

“We do what we can at every moment, and we can live with our choices if we know they’re the best one we can make at that time,” he continues. “Whatever it is you decide to do, I hope you do it for you. You’re the only person you have to look out for.”

Right outside the door, Jungkook remains unmoving as he processes everything he’d heard, while you continue to talk inside, completely oblivious to how you’ve rendered him paralyzed. 

Jungkook’s meeting with his father ended much sooner than he expected. They merely discussed some happenings with the Board and the lunch that they’ll be hosting on Saturday to welcome some of their family’s long-time friends who are flying in from Europe. 

He headed to the support office immediately to tell Mr. Ri that he plans to go home soon but hadn’t known you were there as well. But then again, you and their trusted aide - who’s been his father’s chauffeur, bodyguard, and personal assistant for decades - spend a lot of time together, so it didn’t feel off to Jungkook that you’d both be talking. He’s asked the older man to look out for you, too, especially with regards to things that he feels isn’t really his place. 

Jungkook didn’t hear much at first, initially deciding to just walk back to his office and call, but once he heard Mr. Ri asking you about resigning, he stopped in his tracks. He felt foolish to be listening in on a conversation he’s not a part of, especially since it’s also because of him.

It should’ve delighted him to hear you say that you like him. Jungkook could’ve only dreamt up that reality and it still feels surreal. You didn’t have a reason to lie and the fact that he isn’t the only one seemingly overwhelmed by his own feelings should be a good thing. 

But that also seems to be your reason for wanting to leave, and the thought breaks his heart in ways he can’t explain. You’ve apparently been planning on leaving for years but never got around to do so. If you stayed when his father asked you to, would you do the same if he asked? And he believes that up until last week, your relationship had become the most comfortable it’s ever been. You seem happy here, but why did it also seem like you just wanted to get away? 

The thoughts make his head hurt, and while a part of him wishes he hadn’t heard anything, he at least knows you plan on leaving. And that’s something he absolutely cannot bear.

The sounds of the chairs being fixed disrupt his thoughts. When he hears Mr. Ri suggest that you should start packing up, Jungkook quietly walks back to his office and nonchalantly calls the older man to inform him that he plans on staying up late and that he should drop you home already. If Mr. Ri notices the odd tone of his voice, he doesn’t say anything. He merely expresses his confirmation and not long after, Jungkook hears some shuffling outside his closed door.

“Is there anything you need from me before I leave, Mr. Jeon?” You call out, the walls in between both of you feeling higher and thicker than ever before.

He knows that you know that he no longer asks you to do anything at this hour, and he comforts himself by thinking that it’s your way of letting him know that you’re still there. But the thought is short-lived, as he once again plays the conversation he’d overheard in his mind.

“There’s none,” he says pointedly. “You may leave.”

It takes a while but he eventually hears you walk out. Jungkook feels himself breathe for the first time in the last 15 minutes, before he feels suffocated once again. 

Maybe pulling away last week when he’d been so close gave you the idea that he didn’t want you at all, and maybe that had affected you more than he expected. Maybe him, creating more distance that you’d initiated, made you think that that’s what he wanted after all that. Perhaps his being a coward in facing his own feelings had pushed you away, too, and if you’re scared of what you feel for him, maybe letting you know that he feels the same way is what will make you stay. He could be the happiness you’re searching for, Jungkook convinces himself. He could be what you want and need.

And he already knows that you’re all that for him. Whatever rules he created for himself and the limits he imposed are all pointless if he doesn’t have you around at the end of it. If his life after all this doesn’t have you in it, there’s no happiness for him. A new job for you could take you anywhere, maybe far away from where he is; it could lead you to someone, someone who isn’t him.

He hates that an overheard conversation about you resigning is what will take for him to finally be honest about what he feels for you. And that potentially losing you by his side is the push he needs to let you know that he wants you, that he wants everything with you, and that he hopes you want the same. 

It’s 9:30 PM by the time he enters the car, his head hazy from the two glasses of whiskey he had. Mr. Ri calls him out on another night of him drinking in the office and orders him to get straight to bed like he’d done a few times before when Jungkook had been too stressed and too stubborn to rest. He merely nods though but he follows through, skipping dinner then mindlessly taking a shower before falling asleep in bed after finishing a bottle of beer.

The ringing of the alarm causes Jungkook to grunt and turn off his phone for the peace and quiet that he needs, given the throbbing of his head. But in the silence, he hears the soft knocks on his door, so consistent that he decides to just open it and ask the person on the other side to stop.

But of course, it’s you, and the way you quickly turn your head away reminds him that he’s got nothing but his sweatpants on and he’s too sleepy for anything else to register.

“It’s 7AM, Mr. Jeon. You have an executive meeting at 8,” you tell him, voice so soft and so far away. 

“Fuck,” he groans, rubbing his temples to massage the pain away. “I’ll just take a shower. Don’t make breakfast anymore. We leave in 20 minutes.”

“Noted, sir,” you say, then walk back towards the kitchen.

It’s 15 minutes later when his bedroom door opens and he nervously walks over to you. Unable to still remove the image of his half-naked form in your mind, you focus your gaze elsewhere, but he forces it on him when he asks you to fix his necktie, the first time he’d ever done so.

“I was rushing,” he explains. 

You nod and head to him, hating how your hands slightly shake at feeling so close to him again. You can feel his breath as you watch the rise and fall of his chest. He probably feels as anxious as you, perhaps no longer used to this routine after you stopped it days ago. But you manage without sparing him a glance, keeping your distance and your eyes focused on anything else but him from the walk down to the car and throughout the ride to work. 

It’s difficult for you to look at him, not only because you’re ashamed but because you’re afraid of what you’ll see. Maybe his eyes will tell of his acceptance of this new dynamic. Maybe they’ll reflect anger and frustration at how you’ve disrupted his routine. Or maybe they’ll show sadness - which is what you’re most terrified of - because that’s your weakness. Any time he looks like he needs comfort or he needs you, you know you’d give in, you know you’d want to be there even if you’ve spent the past week staying as far away as possible. 

You know you don’t have much time left here. The Arts Center opens over a month from now and you’ve decided to tender your resignation soon after. You know you should be savoring whatever moments you have with him and perhaps that’s what saddens you the most because you don’t know what will come after. 

Your happiness isn’t here, and staying to find out if it’s with him isn’t worth it, not when there’s baggage you carry; not when your own past and insecurities weigh you down.

Arriving in the office, you rush to your desk then walk to his room to give him the notes he needs for the meeting. You turn towards him slowly when he calls you, your name in his voice suddenly sounding foreign.

“Can you prepare me lemon ginger tea? Please?” 

His voice is soft, as if he feels burdensome for making such a request. You want to give in so badly and ask how he’s feeling. But you stop yourself. It’s not the place nor time.

You accompany his tea with pastries, your own request for him to have breakfast, and you get your own, in response to him instructing you to do so. You see from your periphery that he’s trying to catch your attention as the meeting starts, but with this, you hold back. You don’t want to see what you now know would be sadness in his eyes.

Jungkook has entered the deepest nook of your heart, you realize. You don’t know how you let him get there, and you don’t know how to push him out. 

“Another night of drinking, huh?” Hoseok’s unusually somber voice disrupts Jungkook’s thoughts as he zones out during lunch. “The Arts Center getting you that stressed and anxious?”

Jungkook looks at his cousin questioningly.

“I know how you look when you’re tired and this isn’t it,” Hoseok responds. “You’re hungover.”

“I’m fine,” Jungkook huffs, not wanting to get into this with a man who would know when he’s lying.

“You should be, Kook. There’s a lot going on these next few weeks and we need you at your best. Your team has worked so hard for the Arts Center,” Hoseok reminds him. “So trust them. And don’t let them down.”

As always, his words hit Jungkook where they should. Whatever’s going on in his personal life - even if it involves you, his assistant - he has to be professional first, and that means making sure that everything is ready for the launch in six weeks. There’s a lot he has to meet and prepare for, and he doesn’t know how you’re able to do it. You may be distancing yourself from him but you’re still able to focus and carry out your tasks accordingly. You’ll be fine without him, he thinks. But if you’ll go on thinking that he doesn’t feel the same way about you, he knows he’ll regret it. He knows he’ll regret it even more if he doesn’t ask you to stay. 

“You don’t have to worry about me,” Jungkook assures his cousin. “I’ve been out of it but I’ll get my shit together.”

“Good. I don’t have to remind you that there’s a lot riding on this. But ___ is there to help. I’m here, too. You’ve got people who believe in you, okay?” Hoseok smiles, a slice of comfort that Jungkook didn’t know he needed. “It’s gonna be okay.”

Jungkook nods and heads back to his office after a full morning has passed, tricking himself into thinking that things will indeed be okay. He just needs to find the courage to face you, finally talk to you, ask you about that night, and tell you what he feels.

But even getting you alone proves to be difficult, as you have your own lunch plans that he didn’t want to interfere with, and your own deadlines that he set that he knows you’ll make sure to meet.

Jungkook gets caught up in the afternoon in another meeting with some of the Board members who came to visit. Biting his lip in frustration, he manages to not lose his mind as he sits through it, merely hoping to the heavens that you haven’t left yet despite the late hour. 

He speed walks down the hallway once he gets to his floor and almost panics when he sees your work space empty. But he spots your unfinished cup of coffee and he knows you won’t leave without cleaning up. He briefly sighs in relief when he hears shuffling from inside his room, walking closer to find you standing by his desk, with your back facing the door. You place a folder on his tray for signatures and a bound manual for review, then turn around and jerk in surprise when you see him standing there.

“I didn’t know your meeting had ended, sir,” you say, the formality grating his ears. All he wants is to hear you speak to him casually again, for you to call him by his name once more.

“It just did,” he hums. “I didn’t know if you were still here. I wanted to see you before you could leave.”

His words catch you off-guard but you try to look unaffected. 

“Is there anything else you need me to do, sir?” You ask, knowing that he’s past giving you work at this hour on a Friday, but you’re too nervous to think of what else he needs you for.

“No. I…” he stutters. “You, uh, you’ve been avoiding me,” he manages to say, his eyes pleading for you to look at him. 

But still, you don’t.

“I’m with you everyday, Mr. Jeon,” you insist, your tone cold. “I can’t possibly be avoiding you.”

“You haven’t looked at me all week.”

As if in reflex, you glance at him, then shift your eyes on the couch to your left.

“That doesn’t count,” he says, his voice oozing in desperation for you to just spare him some time, something you’ve never heard before.

So you give in, as you slowly meet his eyes, and you’re reminded why you didn’t want to do it in the first place. They’re so sullen. Tired, it seems, but just lacking in light. They were always so expressive, even when they’re angry, and even more when they’re sad. 

“I just…” you start, knowing that with all that’s happened and with all the stress and pressure he has to endure, you can’t be another one in his list to have to try to figure out. You at least owe it to him to be honest.

You look at the door, suddenly conscious of who might wander in your area, and Jungkook takes your cue, closing it once you nod. 

“So, why have you been avoiding me?” He asks again, his voice gaining a bit of life now that you’ve given him a chance to talk.

“I was just ashamed,” you admit, looking away as the scene from last week plays in your mind again. “I said things I shouldn’t have and they made you uncomfortable and—”

“How do you know that?” He interjects.

“Because you pulled away!” You say too loudly, lowering your head in embarrassment at the clear frustration you’re expressing. “I thought you wanted to… uh…”

“Kiss you,” he finishes, earning him the slightest of nods from you. 

“But you didn’t and I just felt so embarrassed,” you say, your lips quivering now at how much you’re saying, at how much you’re baring yourself to him, unsure if he’ll do the same. “That was completely out of line.”

“You weren’t wrong though,” he almost whispers as he slowly walks towards you. “About what I wanted to do. You seemed to want that, too, but we were out there and I… I was scared that if I’d done anything you weren’t ready for, then I’d push you away. I still did anyway. Because you’ve spent the entire week avoiding me, talking to me formally, not fixing my tie…”

You stop the giggle that you almost let out, but you can’t help your tiny smile as he whines about what you’ve been purposely doing. 

“I just didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to face you after that,” you explain, knowing there’s so much more to say but that you’ll start with this. “But you avoided me, too,” you suddenly pout. 

“What did you expect me to do?” He exclaims. “You did it first! You know I’m not good with these things.”

“Neither am I.”

Jungkook controls himself from kissing the frown off your face and instead, he walks closer. He gets to appreciate you now as he shamelessly eyes your form, the pastel-colored long sleeved blouse tucked inside your white skirt making his heart race. 

He spots your shy smile as you try to turn away, and he steps closer, wanting to see more. 

“You still aren’t gonna look at me?” He asks, the soft desperation in his voice prompting you to be bold again.

“I can’t. I might lose my mind,” you admit, groaning right after at your own honesty. 

“I’d quite like that,” he hums. “I… I was actually losing my mind all week. It didn’t feel right to have you feel so far away. I wanted to fix things but I didn’t know how.”

“That makes both of us,” you sigh, allowing yourself to finally gaze at him in his black suit, the classic look taking your breath away every time. “But I guess it’s the same with me. I didn’t know how badly I wanted you close until you weren’t anymore.”

You hesitatingly reach out your hand, an attempt to let him know that close is what you want him to be, but also to see for yourself if this is real, if he really is just breaths away from you, and if he could be even closer.

“I’m not pulling away this time,” he assures you, his boyish smile sending your mind in a frenzy.

Your fingers graze his chest, the way it quickly rises and falls telling you that his heart is probably racing as fast as yours. You fiddle with the neck of his tie before pulling it to bring him closer. He follows your lead, stepping forward and meeting your eyes, seeming like he doesn’t want his off of you. 

“So uh, are you losing your mind now?” He whispers teasingly. 

The way he utters the words with such yearning is a contrast to the shy look on his face. It’s a side of him you’re not ready for, but it’s one you’re thoroughly enjoying. It’s also pushing you to be even more shameless, as you nod and take his hand this time, placing it on your waist so you could feel his touch again. He’s gentle, trailing his fingers up and down your sides. 

“I am,” you manage to say, and you wish he could tell by the way you’re panting that his effect on you is way beyond your control now, and that it’s something you want to embrace. You mirror his smile, soft and warm yet full of desire.

He makes his move, placing his hand on your cheek as he eliminates whatever distance is left. And he stands there, just one breath away. 

“You have no idea how much I’ve been thinking about that night, wishing I’d done things differently,” he heaves, his eyes flitting to your lips constantly, “wishing I had been brave enough to do what I’ve been wanting to do for so long.”

You lick your lips in tandem with his, and once you feel him thumb your cheek, it’s all over for you. With a whisper of his name, you hold your breath, and the next thing you feel is his mouth on yours. 

He kisses you deeply, expressing just how much he’s been wanting to do this. You smile as you return his desire, suddenly feeling like you’re floating, as if he’s some dream that you’re able to reach, like he’s that beautiful thing that’s tangible, that you can touch, that you can taste.

You moan once his tongue gains entrance, entangling with yours and dominating you immediately until he’s all you can breathe in. He cups your face, directing it where he wants, while his one hand trails down your back to knead your ass, as if to keep himself steady as he loses himself in you. Your breathing quickens even more as the pleasure rises, and with your fingers palming his chest and gripping his collar, he pushes you against his table. 

He cages you and keeps you in place while he devours your lips, and you feel him all over you just as you wanted. You’re hypnotized by his scent, by his warm breath, and by the large hands that now grip your waist and lift you to sit on the edge of his desk. 

Your mind is hazy, high on the drug that is his kiss, lust-filled and passionate and relentless. You yearn for him even more the longer you taste him, feel him, and there’s no part of you that wants this to end. Your moans push him to kiss you harder, leaving you a whimpering mess and with a mind that's truly unable to think a single thought outside of this trance-like feeling. His arms now wrap around you, and his hands, seemingly desperate to touch every part of you that he can, trail up and down your back, as if to caress you, as if to say that he won’t stop, that he won’t let you go.

Finally needing air, he removes his lips from yours only to travel to the most sensitive parts of you - on the shell of your ear that his tongue grazes repeatedly, and on your neck that he licks and sucks vigorously. You feel the chills all over your body, and you grind against him to try to satiate that growing need of yours, as you start to feel the dampness in your underwear. His hardening length makes you want everything he can give you, rules and boundaries be damned. 

This isn’t like you but you’ve never felt this much pleasure and desire in all your life. Nothing could’ve prepared you for the ecstasy that kissing and feeling him would give. You feel his desperation and desire for you, as he grunts and moans your name, aching to feel more, to do more. You want to live in this moment, and then live it everyday, just take him in and take everything and give him everything. 

But you should’ve known that some things are too good to be true. And much as you hope and imagine for things to turn out a certain way in belief that you deserve good things in this world, they don’t. Those don’t happen to people like you. There’s always something underneath it all, as the fantasy shatters like a glass ceiling breaking at his words.

“Stay, ___. Don’t leave,” he hums against you, the tip of his nose gliding against your neck as he takes in your scent. “Please don’t resign. I can’t… I—”

You feel frozen as you process what he’s said. “Wha-what?” You manage to ask, your mind slowly waking up now. 

His lips take a pause at devouring your skin and he faces you, his chest heaving and his eyes glassy and pleading as he repeats his words.

“Don’t leave, ___. Don’t resign. Stay with me. I need you next to me.” 

“Where is this coming from?” You demand, your heart racing now for a different reason, your anxiety building at how he could’ve known of your plans. You pull away to get a better look at him, with guilt now painting his eyes.

“I… I overheard you and Mr. Ri talking last night,” he admits shamefully. “I didn’t mean to. I was going to just walk away but you talked about leaving and what you feel about me and I just… I froze. I don’t want you to go anywhere, ___. I need you here.”

The silence drags on as you let his words settle, words you thought you wanted to hear. But not like this, you realize. This isn’t how you imagined he’d tell you he wants to be with you. 

He attempts to cup your cheek again but you pull yourself back, the rejection breaking him this time.

“You knew I wanted to kiss you last week,” you start, your voice shaking as the pieces fit together. “You knew yet you pulled away. You let a whole week pass with this distance, with no attempt from you to talk to me about it, or to even tell me what you feel but then you learn last night, after listening to a conversation you had no part in, that I like you. And tonight, you kiss me because suddenly you need me? Because you want me to stay next to you?”

“I—” Jungkook starts, unable to say anything as you put it the way you do. 

He’s wanted you for so long and always had reasons to keep his distance. He tried to gain the courage to talk to you this week, even as you avoided him, but he didn’t. There was just so much fear, so much worry about what he should do, about you asking him to forget about it, about possibly pushing you away even more. He didn’t intend for things to happen this way but for you to think that he’s only doing this in an attempt to keep you from resigning is all kinds of wrong, even if in hindsight, that’s exactly what it looks like. He could’ve said something earlier, he could’ve told you what he felt, and he would’ve been brave enough if he really wanted to. 

“You knew how I felt and you kissed me so I’d stay,” you repeat. “You hate change and me leaving will change everything for you and this… this is how you make sure I don’t.”

Stepping down from the desk, you realize how much you’d lost yourself in him, with your skirt bunched up and your blouse all creased. You fix yourself, suddenly ashamed, and suddenly unsure where you stand. It took so much of you to admit what you felt for him and now it seems that he hadn’t been into you the way that you thought. 

You want him with you, but he wants you here, that’s the difference. 

“I… want you,” Jungkook says, the words suddenly hard for him to say, as he gets choked up at the distance you’re creating. “I guess I always have. I just couldn’t do anything because I had to be professional and there were boundaries I couldn’t cross. But I couldn’t help it. Those don’t matter to me anymore. Only you do.” 

His pleading eyes ask you to believe him, to understand him this time. But your silence and the way you look at him in disappointment tell him it’s not something you’re able to do. 

“I never thought you’d feel the same way,” he continues. “And now I know that you do and that just means we can figure it out, right? Staying means we get to be together everyday. We… we get to have this everyday. Don’t you… don’t you want that?”

This is when you realize that much as you want to believe in his sincerity, it’s hard when he thinks of you as a necessity. You make his life easier. You’re his assistant, after all. And that makes you unsure if he only wants you because he needs you, or if they’re just the same thing to him. 

He didn’t even ask you why you wanted to leave. Maybe that should tell you enough.

“___, please. I just want to be with you.”

It’s also at this moment when you realize just how much you’ve fallen for him. You’d feared that if he asked you to stay, you would, and that means putting another person’s needs ahead of yours again, just like what you’ve done all these years. Staying would mean that you’d be unable to find yourself outside of all this, and you’ve given up too much not to choose your own happiness this time, even if it means saying goodbye to the person who also makes you happy.

Finding what little strength you have in you, you turn to him. “I don’t want to stay, Jungkook,” you say, your heart breaking as you utter the words, even more when you ask him to forget about everything that happened tonight. “We can’t do this. I can’t do this with you. Not like this. I’m so sorry.”

With your smashed heart in your hands, you do the hard thing and walk out the door, leaving in your wake a man whose broken pieces that you’ve put together all shattered once again. 

Walking down the block to get to the bus stop feels like a marathon, as the street feels so long with the heavy burden you’re carrying weighing you down too much. But you manage to get there, only to decide that you’d much rather spend the ride home on your own. You turn to a street to hail a cab then realize once you get in one that it was the spot where Jungkook had seen you, drenched under the rain with a sprained ankle. 

He healed parts of you that night, with his quiet assurance that you didn’t have to go through your struggles on your own. You’d hold on to that thought months later, though you’re unsure about now - much as things hurt at this moment, all you want is to be alone.

You get off two stops early and mindlessly walk towards the convenience store, thinking that some snacks for dinner would do. You don’t really feel like eating but your body’s needs are greater than your own desire to eat. Walking down the aisles, you decide you’re only good for some cup noodles tonight. You don’t even deserve boiled eggs that you suddenly craved, nor honey chips, and you definitely don’t deserve dessert after what you allowed to happen earlier. 

You stop your movements once you realize you’re sitting on the same spot where you and Jungkook had eaten when he drove you home that night he took you to the park. It had been a terrible evening after that incident with your ex, but Jungkook was the protective one who helped shoulder all the anger that you were too exhausted to feel. He was a reliable and comforting presence, familiar yet new with his warmth. During the occasional moments in the weekend after when your mind would go to that night, you’d think of Jungkook and how he made you feel safe.

It feels too much, so you take your noodles and finish them on the bench outside. You walk home after, letting the crisp evening air envelop you as your mind replays what happened. 

You don’t think you’ve ever wanted to feel someone the way you wanted to feel him, but you suppose that’s why it hurts as much as it does. You wanted him to want you as much as you did, and you were perhaps foolish to think he’d have the same reasons as you. Maybe you were really just stupid for feeling anything in the first place, knowing your place in his world. You’re everything convenient and easy and familiar and despite the week of walking on eggshells around him, you gave in so quickly. He knew what to do when it came to you. 

And maybe that’s on you. You allowed yourself to feel so much for a man whose life is so intertwined with yours that it’s hard to know what’s real. Yet you know that despite all that, your desire for him is still too strong. It’s why you had to leave right away. 

Another moment of him pleading for you to not resign and you might’ve given in again. Another second of hearing him ask you to be with him and you would’ve believed him - that there was sincerity in all that, that he’d be with you regardless if you stayed in the company or not. Now you’re left with the thought that the convenience was what he wanted, that as he crossed the line, it was all or nothing for him. And that you’d be the weak one, willing to give up what else you could be outside of all this just for him. 

Perhaps you’re also asking for too much. He’s used to a life without much consequences to his actions. There’s a lot he doesn’t know, especially what you had to endure and give up to be here and what you want out of life now that you’re old enough to take control of it. Maybe for him, asking you to stay was that declaration and proof of his feelings; doing so took so much out of him already that thinking of what life would be like without being with you everyday was too hard of a reality to accept or work around. 

You’re too out of it that you don’t realize that you’ve been standing outside your door. You’re thankful for the weekend at least. You’ll spend half of it in bed, and the other half preparing yourself for how you’ll face him again, and how you’ll finally say goodbye. 

You enter and sigh at the warmth inside. Dropping your bag on the floor, you stand by your tiny dining table and take a bite off the apple you find in your fridge. You gaze at your shelf, the one filled with photos of your family and friends and a few more of different sceneries that you took using the disposable camera that Jungkook had gifted you for your birthday. It’s another reminder of how much a part of your life he’s become, how, of all the people in the world, he’d been the one to show you that capturing moments is a gift you shouldn’t take for granted. 

You often wondered what moments he liked to capture. He doesn’t have photos in his penthouse other than those of structures and buildings that are artistically taken. There are framed old blueprints and historical pieces but nothing of him and the people in his life. 

Maybe he doesn’t have good enough memories he wants to keep. For a short moment, you wished that the times he shared with you are ones he’d like to hold onto. But maybe the idea would hurt more - you’ll just be a memory like he would be to you. 

You always wanted to keep only good ones of him, but the sight of him rooted in his spot and in shock as you turned him down is far from something you want to remember. He’s something you didn’t know you wanted, but he stands between you and the life you’ve always wished for yourself - one where you get to decide, to be free, to be happy. 

He’ll let you go and forget all this, you think to yourself. You’ll be the one who walked away. And he’ll be the one who didn’t run after you.

Jungkook is stunned as he watches your retreating form. The sounds of your heels against the marble floor disappear as he remains unmoving from his spot in his room where he’d kissed you just moments earlier. You felt and tasted just like he imagined, and the moment his lips touched yours, he knew he’d want to keep kissing you over and over again. 

It was the first time in a long time that he allowed himself to be honest about how he felt, giddy emotions included. It felt freeing to be able to admit all of that to you after all these months of denying it and walking around eggshells when it came to you. He’d been sure, after last night, that you felt the same way, even more when he felt how your body reacted and how your heart raced, aching for him as much as his heart was yearning for you. 

You sounded hypnotizing, too. The way you’d moaned his name ignited something in him that none of the women he’d slept with had ever done before, and he knows it’s because he’d never felt anything genuine for them. They were good for the moment but he knew, especially the instance that he felt you close, that he wanted you for more than that. He wanted the soft touches and the gentle whispers, the longing looks and the intertwined hands. He wanted more than he thought he would, but during his most vulnerable state, he uttered the words he’d been dying to say since last night when he learned of your plans.

He asked you to stay. He told you he needs you, that he wants to be with you.

They sounded like pleas and maybe that’s what they were. From the deepest and coldest nooks of his heart, he was pleading for you to not leave. He’d finally admitted what he’d been so scared to accept, but all his words did were hurt you. 

You insisted that all he cared about was the convenience of being together everyday, that you staying meant he’d get to keep all that was familiar. And he doesn’t know what would be taken away from you if you did. 

You wanted him, too, didn’t you? Wasn’t that enough? And wasn’t being with him all that mattered? 

Sure, there’d be complications, but those are things he knows you’d both be able to face, they’re things you can navigate around and figure out together because this isn't just a one-time, spur-of-the-moment type of thing. He wants all of you, everything with you, whatever it takes. 

He hadn’t realized it until that second he held you in his arms. And then again when you pulled away, looked at him with glassy eyes, and told him you couldn’t stay. 

He’d been too hurt to run after you. He didn’t know what to say then. How would he, when you’re the one who couldn’t commit to what you felt by staying around? He felt that betrayal, of that feeling of inadequacy, of his feelings for you not being enough. He bared his emotions to you after being so scared of doing so, and then you crushed his heart just like that, with his broken pieces that you’d just put together, scattered on the floor. 

This isn’t like him. It’s been a long time since he’s allowed himself to feel so much for another person, to care for them, to want them in a way that scares him. But you showed him a life where it was possible to open himself up again, to find out what happiness could feel like this time, and in that same breath, you took it all away.

He’s not sure where to go from here. But he decides he’ll think about that tomorrow. Tonight, he just wants to forget. Tonight, he just wants to wallow in his sadness, erase the memory of your touch and the feel of your mouth against his, and let it all go. 

Jungkook instructs Mr. Ri to go home. He’ll drive himself, he insists. There’s just no one right now he wants to be around. 

He drinks a glass of whiskey for the road and manages to get home in one piece. He settles on the couch as he finishes another half bottle, then chugs down a few cans of beer after. The image of you gets blurry. His mouth numbs and he starts forgetting your taste on his lips, too. 

His head falls on the pillow and his hand mindlessly reaches out. There’s no heartbeat that he feels; he’s forgotten how fast yours was already. The sound of your laughter and then of your moans is replaced with a buzzing in his ear as his mind starts to fall away. 

The warmth of your body is gone but somehow he feels hot, so hot but he can’t get his clothes off. He struggles a little, his fingers aren’t doing their job so he gives up instead, curls into the corner of the couch, and for the briefest moment, he sees your smile so clearly. And then his mind drifts away completely, taking his confusion and yearning for you along with it. 

At least for now, there’s not much of you he remembers. But somewhere deep inside, he knows that’ll all change when he wakes up in the morning and searches for you, knowing you won’t be around to tell him that everything is gonna be okay.

Hoseok massages his temple as his sixth call to his cousin in the last half hour remains unanswered. 

“He’s still not picking up,” he groans, the unusual feeling of annoyance bubbling inside him at Jungkook’s irresponsibility.

It’s Saturday morning and some friends of their family flew from Europe last night for lunch at the Jeons’ estate. This gathering was scheduled in time for their grandfather’s death anniversary today, and it’s an event that Mr. Jeon was adamant that Jungkook and Hoseok attend as their respective families’ representatives and as heirs of the company. Those friends had been there when their grandfather built Jeon Corporation from the ground up, and welcoming them is a sign of respect for that friendship and for the memory of the man they’re celebrating today. 

Jungkook had informed Mr. Ri that he’ll be driving himself to the estate and promised to be there before 11 AM, as what his father had requested. It’s half past that and he’s still nowhere to be found. He hasn’t been picking up his phone and his friends claim they don’t know where he is. Knowing how important today is, Hoseok wanted to accompany Mr. Ri in going to the younger man’s apartment to pick him up and find out why he’s late. When the elder Jeon asks, which he will, Hoseok would at least have a reason to give. It just better be a good one.

They both arrive at the building and are informed that Jungkook’s cars are still in their respective slots. He’s not in any of the amenities and the guards report that they haven’t seen him since he arrived on his own last night. He may not be a fan of these types of events but Jungkook always shows up. He knows what today means for their family; if not for his father, then at least for his grandfather, a man he respected and looked up to. If, for some reason, he failed to wake up, then he must be in a bad condition, and Hoseok either has to scold his cousin, or cover for him.

With no one answering the door, Mr. Ri uses his access and enters. It’s dark and quiet inside, with the blinds all closed. When he and Hoseok find Jungkook passed out on the couch with an empty whiskey bottle and beer cans on the floor, it’s the same moment that Mr. Ri’s phone rings, and it’s your name that lights up the screen.

“Hi, Mr. Ri,” you groggily say. “I’m sorry I missed your calls. I had a late night and just woke up. Is everything okay?”

“I’m not sure,” he sighs, as he watches Hoseok pull Jungkook from his cowering form in an attempt to get him to wake up.

“What do you mean?” You ask, standing from your bed now, suddenly awake. 

“I was calling to ask if you knew where Jungkook was. Their family gathering is today and he was supposed to be at his parents’ house 30 minutes ago but he wasn’t. He wasn’t picking up our calls either.”

“Oh, I… I don’t know where he is,” you say softly, the mention of his name reminding you of what transpired last night, the image of Jungkook’s dejected look appearing in your mind. You worry about him though, wondering what time he got home. “Have you found him? Is he okay?” 

“Hoseok and I are at his apartment and he’s passed out drunk,” Mr. Ri states, as Jungkook finally opens his eyes and mumbles some words that the older man has to walk closer to hear. “What happened last night, ___? Why is he calling your name? And why is he asking for you to come back?”

It shouldn’t come as a surprise to you that Jungkook had spent last night drinking his feelings away. You know enough from your time with him that it’s what he does when he’s stressed or mad or frustrated, and then he wakes up the next morning and hits the gym to deal with his hangover. There’s none of that today, apparently, and you stop yourself from instructing Mr. Ri to prepare him some lemon ginger tea. 

“What happened last night, ___?” He repeats. “Did you fight?”

“We…” you start, knowing that if there’s anyone who has to know about last night, it’s the man on the other end of the phone. “We, uh… we kissed. And then he asked me not to resign then I pulled away.”

Walking towards the kitchen to hand Hoseok a glass of water, Mr. Ri asks if you’d told Jungkook of your plans, stating that he hadn’t told him about it.

“He overheard us talking last Thursday,” you respond. “He knew what I felt about him, kissed me, then asked me to stay. He said he didn’t want me to go, that he wanted to be with me, and that we could be together everyday. It didn’t feel right,” you continue, your voice shaking now as you recall the conversation. “It wasn’t supposed to happen that way. We were supposed to talk about it. He wasn’t supposed to use my feelings against me like that.”

“Did you tell him why you’re planning on leaving?”

“No… He just went on about needing me to be with him and I… I couldn’t bear it,” you say, feeling the tears dance around your eyes. “You told me that I could always leave but even then, I’d always have a reason to stay but it would be their reason, not mine. I finally built the courage to decide on this because you know I need this. I don’t want him to be my reason this time. Or else I’ll never be able to let all of it go.”

“I know,” Mr. Ri sighs, knowing more than anyone what you mean. 

He’ll never be brave like you, but he understands that burden, that desire to just be free; he knows what it’s like to be held back even if it’s your own decision. Because at the end of the day, you’ll always think you have a debt to be paid. He knows he does, but he’ll always believe that you don’t. Surviving was always enough.

“But I think he has to know, ___,” he continues. “He wouldn’t let himself go through this kind of suffering if you don’t mean that much to him. You have to tell him the truth. And I mean everything. You owe it to yourself, too. I know he means a lot to you but you can’t move forward in any way, with or without him, if you’ll just keep him in the dark.”

You let Mr. Ri’s words settle. You told yourself the moment you entered the company that you won’t let your past define you, including your relationship with this family. You’ll work hard and everyone else will know you for that, and not for any other reason. You also knew that you’d spend every second of being here trying to prove to yourself that you’re capable, despite the irony that you were the one defining your time here based on your past that you just somehow couldn’t run away from. 

You weren’t supposed to feel anything for Jungkook. You could’ve gone on with your plan of resigning without feeling bad that you were leaving him behind. And even in that alternative reality where he’d ask you to stay, it would’ve been easy to say no. What makes this difficult is that you started to care. You got scared that if he asked you, you would stay. And now that he did, you have to be stronger than your desire to be with him.

Leaving would be hard, but staying would be much harder. 

You wish it was easy to make him understand. But you suppose without him knowing the truth, he wouldn’t be able to. 

So you give Mr. Ri permission. 

“I don’t know how to tell him,” you say. “You would. Make him understand. Maybe he’ll let me go. Maybe he’ll still come after me. And maybe he’ll forgive me, too.”

Mr. Ri hums and drops the call. He returns to the living room where Jungkook is now seated upright on the couch, downing his second glass of water and taking medicine to deal with the hangover. The blinds are now up, causing him to squint his eyes. At least he looks alive now. 

“That was ___,” Mr. Ri says. “She was wondering how you were.”

“Did you tell her I look terrible?”Jungkook asks bitterly.

“I did. She also told me what happened.”

“What… happened?” Hoseok wonders. “Did you have a big fight?”

Knowing he has no way out of this, Jungkook tells the truth. “We, uh, we kissed,” he answers, earning him a gasp from his cousin, who clarifies that while he’s not that surprised, he’s curious as to why both of you aren’t together right now.

“___ plans on resigning. He asked her not to,” Mr. Ri answers. “But you… you have to let her go, Jungkook. She needs to learn who she is and what she can do without anything holding her back.”

“If that’s her reason, then she has to know that she can keep learning who she is and what she can do here, with me,” Jungkook insists, slowly gaining clarity, as all the words he couldn’t say last night suddenly come out so easily. “There’s so much she can do. If what we feel for each other is the issue and that means she can’t directly work for me, then there are other departments where she’d fit well in. This isn’t just about convenience for me. I want to see her everyday but having her around means I get to make sure she’s taken care of, that she’s treated well.”

“And then what? She’ll feel indebted to you because of that?” Mr. Ri counters. “This is more than just developing her skills or building her career, Jungkook. This is about being someone outside of this company. It’s about doing something without feeling like she constantly has to prove that she deserves what she has.”

“And she does. Who does she have to prove anything to? We’re beyond that. Everyone knows she’s capable.”

“She has to prove it to herself. It may be hard for you to understand but she… she won’t get to accept all that she is until she’s ridden herself of the burden she carries. For as long as she works for your family, she’ll always feel it.”

The words feel a little too personal, Jungkook thinks, as Mr. Ri talks about your insecurities as if he’d seen you live them, and perhaps he has. The older man witnessed those first few turbulent weeks, and having known you since you started working here through the CEO, perhaps Mr. Ri had seen how your spirit broke a little because of Jungkook.

But still, something about the way Mr. Ri looks sullenly at him says that there’s more to what the older man had seen, as if he himself is pleading for Jungkook to let you go this way, as if the care runs deep and the words carry so much more emotion.

“She needs this, Jungkook,” Mr. Ri continues. “She’s planned on leaving a few times before but her gratitude towards your family always pulled her back. If you really care about her, you won’t let that happen this time. If you want to be with her, you’ll have to do it without her being here. Regardless of what she feels for you, she needs this more. You can let her go without really letting her go, you have to know that.”

It all feels too much and Jungkook’s mind is filled with so many questions. What do you owe his family? How does proving yourself have anything to do with leaving the company? How does he fit into all this? What do you need time away for? And how can he be with you at the end of it? Would you still want that, given that he didn’t even ask you why?

“How are you sure that’s what she needs?” Jungkook asks, curiosity getting the best of him.  

“I’ve known her for 20 years, Jungkook,” Mr. Ri sighs. “I know it’s what she believes.”

Jungkook may still be dealing with a hangover, but he knows his ears didn’t betray him. Twenty years, that’s how long you’ve known the man he trusts with his life, the man his father trusts with his family’s life. 

The tale is an open secret. Ri Byung-hun was a kid who grew up in the streets. He tried to steal from Jungkook’s grandfather, whose construction business then was slowly taking off. The elder man took pity on the young teen and sent him to school, and Byung-hun showed his gratitude by working for the family, eventually becoming Jungkook’s father’s chauffeur, bodyguard, and closest confidant all in one. The loyalty goes both ways, and it’s stood the test of time. 

Jungkook doesn’t know all the details but he knows enough. What he doesn’t know is who you are in Mr. Ri’s life, and why Jungkook hadn’t heard of you before. 

“How do you know ___?” Jungkook finally manages to ask. “Who is she to you?”

“I know ___ because of her mother. And over 20 years ago, Cho Hye-soo was your father’s assistant.”

“She— what?” 

Jungkook can’t hide his shock, and neither can Hoseok, who looks just as surprised about the truth as he is. His cousin would’ve been in his early teens at that time, and as it was when it came to their family’s children, training to become company heirs starts early, but they don’t get immersed until during their late teenage years. 

“I… I know Mrs. Cho,” Hoseok says. “I’ve met her several times but I… I never knew. They never said anything.”

“It wasn’t something they wanted people to know,” Mr. Ri explains. “Other than both of your parents, I’m the only other person who does. Too much time has passed for people to make the connection. It was just better that no one knew.” 

“What else did they not want people to know?” Jungkook asks. “What did ___ and her mom do? What… what do they owe our family?”

The elder man knew that at some point, Jungkook was going to have to learn the truth. He just didn’t think it would have to be under these conditions, and that he’d be the one telling the young man about how your lives are intertwined, that whatever pain you both carried growing up, those would always lead you back to each other. 

“Your father and Hye-soo were no different to how you and ___ are,” Mr. Ri starts. “He’d just been appointed President and he was under a lot of pressure - from your grandfather, the Board, the rest of your family… He was always stressed and it didn’t help that he was a perfectionist, just like you. That obviously affected your family, but it also affected those who worked for him, especially Hye-soo, who felt that she had a lot to prove.”

She didn’t have a Seoul education but she was smart and resourceful, incredibly hardworking and devoted, something you inherited from her, the elder man shares. The similarities are striking, and Jungkook braces himself, hoping that they end there. 

“She always had to work overtime, including weekends, and that took a lot of time away from being with ___. Hye-soo would leave her daughter in the library where her friend worked, and that seemed to be enough. But of course, it wasn’t easy, especially with a partner who lost his job and started drinking to cope.”

As Mr. Ri continues, Jungkook starts to fear something else, and so he asks. 

“Did… did he hurt them?”

“He yelled a lot,” Mr. Ri answers. “I’d hear it sometimes during breaks when she’s on the phone with him and it crushed me every time. Hye-soo wouldn’t say much, just that he was a good guy who just didn’t know how to deal with hardships. She never justified his actions until of course, that piece of shit started hitting her.”

Jungkook’s heart breaks at the words, unable to imagine growing up in a household like that - feeling afraid, unsafe, and unfree. 

“Hye-soo assured me that Kang-ho never hurt ___. She was good at that, at protecting her child. One time, she was called to work on a Saturday and that didn’t go well with him, but she… she always puts her daughter first, and that meant work would always be her priority because it’s what pays the bills and what sends her to school,” Mr. Ri narrates, his eyes growing more dejected by the second as he recalls those times. 

“She was rushing and couldn’t properly conceal the bruise on her face. She was worried that’s why she took ___ with her. Hye-soo kept crying as your father asked her what happened. She apologized for being late and for bringing her daughter to work, and she asked to stay in the office for the night until she figured out where they could go. I had never seen her break down like that,” he says, his voice shaking now. “And I won’t forget how scared ___ looked. She was just 10 years old then, clinging to her mother and not wanting to let her go. We were all strangers to her but somehow, she knew that we were there to protect them.”

The silence goes on, as both men take in Mr. Ri’s words, but it’s Hoseok who asks what happened after, and eventually, what got you here. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Jeon didn’t hesitate to help,” the older man shares. “They had Hye-soo and ___ stay at the staff house in their estate for a few nights until they got a new place to stay. I helped them get their stuff after Kang-ho figured out what was happening and ran.  The police had a warrant for his arrest but they couldn’t find him for days.” 

Turning to Jungkook, he adds, “your parents paid for all the legal and medical fees. Because Kang-ho knew they were helping, you all had to go away until he was found. Hye-soo and ___ went to Busan where he couldn’t trace them; your parents stayed in one of their houses in Gwangju while you and your brother were in Gwacheon.” Mr. Ri sighs at the memory as he recalls those days. “The reason why you were in that cabin was so they could protect you. I know you held a grudge against them for years because you thought they just left you there but they couldn’t stay with you, Jungkook. You were all in danger and they had to keep you and Jeong-sik safe.”

Jungkook looks back at that night when everything changed for him. Things already weren’t going well with his brother; the three-year gap and the way they were always compared kept them from getting along. His parents knew that, yet they still left him with Jeong-sik, who abandoned him in the woods when they played hide-and-seek. That’s where Jungkook was left alone, lost and scared under the rain, the thunder roaring as he yelled for someone to come. He’s always lived with that fear, always carried that memory of anger and blame within him that transformed into a habit of just pushing people away, of keeping them out because that was better to accept than the knowledge that people he trusted left him on his own. 

But there’s a reason, he learns now, one that his parents kept from him to protect you and your mother, too. It’s all too much, but he thinks now that maybe there’s a reason why you were so patient with him, why you didn’t judge him that night at the guest house, why you somehow understood what he was so scared of. He doesn’t know if you know that the night at the cabin had anything to do with what you and your mother went through, but regardless, maybe that’s why he always felt so strongly about you. The connection he was yearning for was always there, it’s tied to something, and he realizes it’s tied to your shared past.

“Did the police find the man?” Jungkook asks now, his headache somehow worsening from all the things he’s learning. But he just wants to know that you weren’t even more hurt, that there was a way that his parents kept you safe. 

“I did,” Mr. Ri responds. “I still had contact with people in the streets, and I left Gwacheon once I got a call that they knew where he was staying. I hunted him down and I handed him over… with a bloodied face and a few broken bones. They charged him for domestic violence and a few other crimes, including drug possession that would keep him in prison for years, long enough for Hye-soo and ___ to recover.”

“And what about you? Were you charged?” Jungkook wonders.

“No, I claimed self-defense and I—”

“But it wasn’t, was it?” Jungkook counters, knowing there’s more to what Mr. Ri is saying. 

“It wasn’t,” the old man admits, turning away as he says the words. “I could’ve done more but I… I couldn’t lose myself to the anger even if it was all I felt. I knew Hye-soo wouldn’t have forgiven me if I did.”

“You loved her, didn’t you?” Jungkook says, dawning on him now that everything Mr. Ri had done was so he could protect your mother and you. He realizes that all the times that the elder man looked out for you was because he was looking out for someone he truly cared about, someone who mattered the most to the person who mattered the most to him.

“I did,” Mr. Ri sighs. “I still do.”

Jungkook recalls the night during the team building and the elder man’s words, about the woman he’d loved for so long, and that moving on from her meant expending all that love to those he cares about, and now Jungkook knows that he was referring to you. 

“Did she know? And did she love you back?”

“She… she asked me to move to Busan with her and ___,” Mr. Ri answers, his eyes faraway as memories of that conversation come rushing back, how he’d wanted to just run away and build a life he never thought he could have with the woman he’d fallen so hard for, but how he had to make the hardest decision then, knowing it was going to haunt him for the rest of his life. 

“Why didn’t you?” Jungkook wonders. 

“I owe everything I have to your family, Jungkook,” Mr. Ri explains. “They gave me a second chance. Your grandfather got me off the streets, your father taught me everything I know, they… they had my records cleaned. They did it when I was a kid and they did it again when I was an adult. The only way I could ever pay them back was through my loyalty. I couldn’t leave, not after everything they’ve done for me.”

“But you loved her. She was your second chance,” Jungkook argues.

“And that love caused me to commit a crime I shouldn’t have. I was going to pay for it one way or another,” Mr. Ri responds. “That’s how I chose to do it, by letting her go, knowing that I’d be able to look after her and ___ better that way. Your father would protect me, and I would protect them. That’s… that’s how things go.”

It’s a tragic love story, Jungkook thinks. Two people who feel so much having to let each other go, their own pasts pushing them towards opposite directions. Decisions were made and that pulled them apart. He supposes that reciprocated feelings aren’t always enough.

“What happened after that?” Hoseok asks now, wanting to know as well how you and your mother managed, and if there’s any more danger that you face.

“They stayed in Busan for a few years. They only returned to Daegu after they learned that Kang-ho died in prison after acquiring some respiratory disease,” Mr. Ri replies. “Mr. and Mrs. Jeon helped with the move, too. They had me check on Hye-soo and ___ almost every month, just to make sure they were doing well. It was hard, of course. Hye-soo wasn’t earning the same as she was so she took another job just to keep ___ in a good school. Mr. Jeon knew that, so he kept offering to pay for her education but Hye-soo always turned him down. That continued until she got to college, and knowing that her mom won’t accept help again, ___ was the one who decided to take the offer. They paid for her tuition, and she eventually got an internship in the company. She took the job offer, too, and she’s just been working hard ever since, thinking that she has everything to prove.”

“Why does my father think he can buy people’s loyalty just like that?” Jungkook shakes his head in disbelief. “It traps people… it gives them no option.”

“I know it may seem that way but your father knows how important loyalty is, and it’s something that he gives, too. He trusts me just as much I trust him,” Mr. Ri defends. “But when it comes to Hye-soo and ___, it isn’t about loyalty but guilt. He blames himself for what happened to them. Even if it was all Kang-ho’s fault, your father always believed that if he hadn’t been so demanding, things wouldn’t have escalated. It was all the overtime, all the unfair requests that took Hye-soo’s time from her partner, from her daughter. He carries that guilt with him and how he treated her. In a way, I think that was his wake-up call. Work stopped consuming him after. He became considerate of his staff, asking about their families and how they’re doing. He tried to make it up to you and your brother but that seemed to be the hardest thing for him; he didn’t know how to get your trust back.”

“But wasnt ___ choosing to work here about loyalty? She stayed every time he asked her to. She wouldn’t have if she felt indebted to our family,” Jungkook remarks, not wanting to delve into his own relationship with his father. 

“She wanted to repay them just so her mom would stop carrying that burden,” Mr. Ri says. “They were able to get away and build a new life where they were safe because of your parents and for ___, that always meant everything. She planned to work for them, but even a part of her felt that all the opportunities she was given was out of kindness. She always felt she didn’t deserve it but your parents also think they can’t ever make it up to her and her mother enough.”

At the silence, he continues. “People are complicated that way, I guess. We all have our own burdens to carry, our own past to deal with, our own actions to make peace with and accept. We make decisions based on what we think is best and just hope we don’t regret them in the future. But we also make them as a way to take control of our own lives. Even if I regret letting Hye-soo go, I at least did it knowing that I’ll either have another chance at being with her, or that someone else will. And someone did, and I know for a fact that he loves her and ___ with all of him.”

“In that sense, maybe resigning is ___’s way of taking control of her life this time, don’t you think?” Hoseok turns to Jungkook, understanding where you’re coming from now, as he knows the feeling of not having to constantly prove yourself to others. “She finally wants to let that burden go, to live as she wishes without feeling like she doesn’t deserve what she has, even if it means not being next to you the way she wants to. If you make her stay, how do you think she can move on from all this? How can you be sure she’s happy?”

Jungkook takes a deep breath, knowing it’s not enough to process everything he’s learned this morning. There’s that past he didn’t know he shared with you, there’s his relationship with his father that he doesn’t know how to mend, there’s his feelings for you, one that’s still so strong and inescapable. 

And then there’s the thought that you’d known everything all along. You’ve been patient with him, you've been kind and understanding. Was that all because you felt like you had to? Because he’s the son of the people you feel that you owe a lot to?

It’s not that Jungkook doubts your feelings for him, but he wonders if you do. Now that you’re able to make that decision to leave, what if walking away from his family also means you realize that your feelings are tied to that indebtedness, too? How real was it for you? And after you find yourself outside of all this, would you still want him?

The thoughts make his heart break, and this tells him that after knowing everything, he still can’t deny what he feels about you. He still wants you just as much. Maybe the familiarity he always felt was because you are familiar. Maybe the connection was because of a painful past you both share, of a kind of pain you both understand. Maybe the intensity of feelings is a remnant from his childhood, one that’s tied to yours in a serendipitous way. 

He’d like to think that even without knowing, you held out for him. You could’ve chosen to leave anytime before he came but you didn’t, and your paths crossed this way and he convinces himself that you were always meant to meet each other, that you were always meant to make up for how intertwined and unfortunate your lives are. You never met then but this time, when you did, it meant so much more. He could only hope that it’s something you hold onto as well, and that when you decide to finally walk away, it doesn’t mean you walk away from him completely, too. 

“Kook, I know there’s a lot to think about but you have to get going,” Hoseok disrupts his thoughts. “Your father still wants us at that lunch. I know grandfather would, too.”

“You should go ahead, Hoseok,” Mr. Ri says. “Just make an excuse to your uncle and say I’m helping Jungkook fix up. We’ll head there right away.”

“No, tell him that I know,” Jungkook insists. “If… if he’s always wanted to mend our relationship, he and I have to start being honest with each other.”

“I will,” Hoseok says as he stands up to leave. “Get your head together, alright? You’re gonna be fine.”

Jungkook massages his temples, knowing that he doesn’t have time to get a workout in and rid himself of this terrible hangover. But he tries, as he takes a warm shower and asks Mr. Ri to prepare him a cup of lemon ginger tea and get some ginseng jelly for the ride. 

The trip to his parents’ estate starts off quiet, but the thoughts in his head are so loud that the older man asks what else is bothering him. 

“How was her time in Busan?” Jungkook asks.

“It was good. She was a shy kid but she found good people she trusted and that meant everything,” Mr. Ri answers. “I visited them often, even when they returned to Daegu. But I stopped once ___ moved back to Seoul after college. I’d ask her about her mother every now and then. It was nice to hear how well they’re doing, and how happy they are with their new family. Min-woo’s a good man and his daughters love Hye-soo and ___ so much. It turned out well for them. When I think about that, it’s really hard not to justify the decisions I made.”

“Will you make them again? If given the chance?”

“If I still think it’s what’s best then, then I would. Sometimes we make decisions because of the other person, not exactly for ourselves. Sometimes that’s how we realize just how much we love them, you know? When their happiness trumps our own.”

Jungkook merely hums. While he doesn’t think he’s at that point with you, he cares enough to want you to have that chance to find your happiness, in whatever form that may be. And if leaving the company is what it takes, then he knows you deserve that and more. It doesn’t change the fact that he wishes you can search for it while being with him, but perhaps it’s better if you find your way back to him instead. He’ll at least know you chose him, and not because you felt like you owed it to him to stay.

They make it to his parents’ estate over an hour late. The guests have arrived and Jungkook greets them before finding his father. When their eyes meet, there’s a look of sadness in the elder man’s eyes. Perhaps it’s understanding; maybe it’s an apology.

His mother gives him a long and tight hug, one that he savors for the first time in a long while. He remained distant from his parents after he decided to pursue further studies and then work in their office abroad. It’s a relationship he’s still navigating. While his mother has always been present and affectionate, Jungkook is the one who stopped reciprocating. It just seemed easier that way, but he realizes that he’s missed her warmth after taking it for granted all these years. 

The lunch gathering lasts for a few hours. Jungkook tries to pay attention to the conversations since engaging requires too much from him, especially after the morning he’s had. But his father doesn’t reprimand him this time, and for that, he’s thankful. Hoseok keeps him on his toes though, but Jungkook’s mind constantly wanders towards you. He wonders how you got home last night, if you managed to get some rest, and if you’re spending your time being angry at him or if, by any chance, you’re missing him like he’s missing you.

It’s 5 PM by the time the last guest leaves, and with Hoseok and A-yeong needing to attend a dinner party, Jungkook is left to speak with his parents alone. 

“I heard you know the truth now,” his father says as he sits across from Jungkook in the garden. “I’m sorry I kept it from you.”

“Did you intend for me not to know and find out from someone else?” Jungkook asks. 

“___ applied to the company with the intention of contributing in a small way,” his father says. “She made it without any say from me and that’s a testament to her skills and capabilities. When we met after her first day, she asked that she not be treated any differently, and I agreed. I stayed true to my word and I kept my distance, but when I heard about how Mrs. Byun treated her, I knew I couldn’t just stand back. I encouraged her to apply for the EA position, knowing that she would be treated well. And with that, she asked me not to say who she is - not to Hoseok, and especially not to you. That’s not how she wants to be known. And I always respected her request.”

“Does it make any difference, son?” His mother asks. “Does knowing who she is to our family change the way you see her?”

“No, but it makes me wonder how she’d seen me all this time,” Jungkook says. “She put up with me despite how I treated her. She was kind even if I was distant. She… she let me open myself up and that’s… that’s why I like her. That's why I asked her to be with me.”

The surprise on his parents’ faces is immediate, but they stay calm, and it’s what prompts him to continue.

“I just hate to think that she suffered all that time because she still felt like she owed us. If you asked her to stay and help me, she wouldn’t have been able to turn you down. And what if… she’s confused her feelings for me for just… gratitude towards you?”

“Oh, my dear son,” his mother sighs, taking his hand as a form of comfort. “We are so sorry that all this has caused you to doubt her sincerity but if there’s one thing we know about ___ is that she’s genuine, and if you felt cared for by her, then she meant all that.”

“Yes, I did ask her to help you, because I knew that if there was someone who could get through to you, it would be her,” his father says this time.

“So you took advantage of her? Because you knew she’d do what you’d ask,” Jungkook huffs.

“I did that because I knew that she would care, that she would understand. Thinking about it now, perhaps I asked for too much,” the elder man shakes his head. “She’s a lot like her mother, and I’ve come to realize that you’re a lot like me. I needed someone like Hye-soo and somehow I just knew that you needed someone like ___. Both of you opening up and finding comfort in each other just happened, I suppose, and that’s not such a bad thing, is it?”

“I don’t know. Because now, she doubts what I feel and I’m not sure about what she feels, too,” Jungkook admits, letting his own insecurities get the better of him. He hates that he’s started to doubt you as well. 

“If it matters, I’ve seen how she is with you. She cares about you, she worries about you. And the way you respond to her just means that your heart feels her sincerity, too,” his father responds. “Don’t let anger or fear taint that for you.”

“Aren’t you mad about what happened?” Jungkook wonders. “She’s my assistant and I ended up crossing a line. I kissed her. In my office.”

“Perhaps I should be,” his father hums. “But with her planning on resigning, I suppose you’re already feeling a lot of emotions about that. I don’t want to add anymore. You’re an adult and you know that your actions have consequences. You just have to deal with them now. And don’t ever do that again.”

There’s no anger in his father’s words. In fact, there’s comfort that Jungkook has never heard before. It suspends his worries only for a short moment, as he’s reminded that you indeed plan on leaving. When that is, he doesn’t know. But he’s gonna have to start dealing with your loss just as he needs to deal with his feelings for you. It’s all too complicated; getting together despite what you both feel isn’t that simple. Your happiness comes first. He knows he cares so much that it’s what he wants you to focus on. 

“Letting her go now doesn’t mean you have to let her go for good,” his mother tells him. “She’ll choose you if that’s what her heart says. And at least then, you’ll know for sure that she still wants you after everything.”

Jungkook’s parents’ words echo in his mind for the rest of Saturday that he spends in his living room, choosing wine as his companion for the evening. There’s no intention of getting hammered unlike the night before though. The drink calms him down and allows him to have proper sleep this time. He spends the most of his Sunday in bed, thinking about you, then attempting to remove you from his mind. 

Not wanting to deal with any more tension, he instructs Mr. Ri that Monday to just drive you straight to the office. Jungkook arrives and sees you stand up to greet him as he walks through the hallway, and he responds with a nod as his own greeting before heading straight to his room.

There’s that feeling again - of missing you, of hoping he could fix things but not knowing how, of wanting to ask you to stay but knowing he has to let you go, and of wishing that when he does, you’ll find your way back to him again. He shakes off the thoughts during that short walk to his desk, feeling himself weaken with every moment that he spends far away from you.

Jungkook takes his seat and sighs as another day starts without his usual routine. Knowing he has no other choice, he pushes on. From his periphery, he sees you glancing at him through the window, and a part of him wishes it’s your attempt at seeing if you could speak with him, maybe ask if you could talk about what happened later on or about what he now knows about you. Or anything, really. He just wants to hear your voice again. Hopefully see your smile. Despite all his doubts about you, the emptiness he feels tells him that nothing’s changed - what he feels for you is real, and he might not know what’ll happen next, but he at least knows that what he wants is to be with you; he hopes he’ll figure out how to do that with you.

He sees you glance at him again and it sparks a bit of hope. That is, until he spots the envelope on his desk, and inside it, your resignation letter.

He tries to act unaffected as he reads what you’ve written. It’s straight to the point, as you narrate your journey in the company, having started as an intern and then working in logistics before finding your footing as the Vice President’s assistant. You list the skills you’ve developed and other things you’ve learned but that you think it’s time to venture into something new and different, noting how you’ll take all your experiences with you in this new stage of your life. 

You thank him for his guidance, and he almost breaks towards the end when you mention the Arts Center. You apologize for leaving before its completion, but you’re thankful because it allowed you to appreciate the beauty of things, that it made you understand the value of meaning and connection, and that his passion for it pushed you to find something that you want to be passionate about, too. You’ve given him something, and now he knows that in his own way, he’s given something to you, too. 

You type away on your desktop while not-so-discreetly peeking into Jungkook’s office to see his reaction to your letter. Your plan was to resign after the Arts Center was launched, knowing how big of a project it is that needs all of Jungkook’s attention. He can’t be distracted, and a part of you scolds yourself for being selfish about deciding to do this now. 

But you also knew that you couldn’t delay it any longer. After what happened last Friday, you didn’t know how you could face him again, especially now that he knows everything. It didn’t feel right to continue on, not just because of your feelings but because you crossed a line - you kissed and did all that in his office. That itself is unacceptable; it almost feels like a betrayal to his family, whom you’ll have to painfully say goodbye to as well. 

Mr. Ri visited you yesterday to give you comfort, knowing that you’d choose to go through this on your own again. Jungkook was devastated but was worried about you more than anything, you were told, and somehow that made the decision less difficult but still painful to make. You don’t know if he’ll ever truly understand, especially if finding yourself means letting him go despite the happiness he gives you. 

It’s not everyday you find someone you feel so much for, but then again, human beings are complicated - they can want something and be scared of it at the same time; they can have the chance to have it but doubt it all the same. What you feel for him should be enough to dispel your worries about his sincerity but there’s too much going on in your mind at this point. Right now, you just want to get away. With him learning the truth, you suppose he needs time to process all that as well. 

You’ll miss him though. You’ll miss everything about this place. But you’ll miss him the most. 

Your phone ringing disrupts your thoughts, and your heart races when you hear Jungkook’s voice on the other end.

“Ms. Cho, please come to my office.”

You calm your nerves and find the strength to get off your seat and walk towards him. He’d been expressionless the whole time, and you wonder if he’ll hold off your resignation because it’s terrible timing. Either way, you try to prepare yourself for what’s to come. 

But clearly, you didn’t do so enough, as you’re still left speechless when he holds out an envelope for you to take, the sight of his hands that once held you close breaking your heart again.

“I accept your resignation,” he says, his voice low and firm, his eyes not fully meeting yours. “You have a month until your last day but you have two weeks worth of vacation and I urge you to take them before you leave.”

“Thank you, sir,” you manage to say, your voice soft and shaking compared to his. “I… I will.”

“And this is your recommendation letter,” he says, handing you another envelope. “You’ve shown exceptional skills throughout your tenure here, Ms. Cho. Everyone you’ve worked with says so, and I’ve seen that firsthand. I’m sure that wherever you decide to work after this, you’ll be another great asset. And my family wishes you good luck in your future endeavors. Thank you for all that you’ve done for us.”

The words are too formal, too professional for your liking, and this breaks your heart even more. But you suppose there’s no other way to do it. You’re the one leaving; you’re the one who pulled away. After everything that’s happened, you’re the one who walked out to find your happiness when Jungkook needed you the most, and you could only hope that one day, he’ll forgive you for it. That he’ll forgive you for all of it.

“Thank you, Mr. Jeon,” you bow in thanks. “I’ve said it all in my letter but once again, I appreciate everything you’ve taught me.”

You bravely look him in the eyes as he seems to have found the courage to look at you, and the longer you do, the harder it all becomes. 

“Shall I commence the process of finding my replacement, sir?” You ask.

“There is no need,” he replies. “I’ve received approval from my father to have Lucas come in as my assistant effective immediately. He’s scheduled to arrive this week, so you can spend the remaining time you have here turning over everything to him. I will announce your resignation to the team before then. You can also begin the offboarding process with HR so that there are no delays.”

“Understood, Mr. Jeon,” you say, the light in your eyes dimming as each second passes by.

“Is there anything else I could do to help you, Ms. Cho?” 

There’s a prolonged moment where you and Jungkook just look at each other, his eyes tinged with a kind of sadness that you perhaps mirror, with words swimming in your own heads that neither of you wants to say out loud.

You wish he’d say that he’s okay, that he forgives you, and that he hopes it didn’t have to be this way. 

He wishes you’d say that you’re sorry for leaving him, that you’ll be thinking about him, and that you hope you’ll find your way back to him again.

You want to tell him that he’s all you could think about, that you’ll miss him everyday, that you’ll search for  beautiful things that are tangible like you said you would, and hope they would lead you back to him. 

He wants to say that he’ll look for you everywhere, that he’ll hold onto every good memory you have together, that he hopes you find whatever makes you happy, and that he’ll wait for you until you realize that it could be him.

But the moment passes and then it’s gone. You bow once more and head out the door.

You take your seat and will yourself not to cry. You can’t help it though, even as you press your palms against your ears to drown out the sounds of your own sadness, of your heart’s call of his name even if you’re the one walking away. 

You let the tears fall, a reminder that you’d done this, and that for the first time in your life, you’re crying over losing someone, even if he was someone you didn’t have in the first place. 

Maybe you weren’t meant to have him at all. 

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[thighsa]

sex slave nmixx on a private island being used by their master? just not a gangbang please!

Request :

AZURE WHISPERS

NMIXX Sullyoon and Kyujin X Tribe

Warning : Non Con Smut (please don't read if you don't like it, thanks!)

"What the fuck is this place? Where are we?" Sullyoon groaned as she stumbled off the boat, her voice a mix of exhaustion and irritation. The salty sea air filled her nose and the rocky shore bit into her bare feet.

"I thought you liked adventure, Sully," Kyujin giggled, her youthful eyes sparkling with excitement. "It's like our own private island!"

Sullyoon rolled her eyes, her long black hair sticking to her sweaty forehead. "Adventure, yes. Being marooned on a shithole, no."

Their manager, a middle-aged man with a perpetual sheen of sweat, waved his hands dismissively. "Girls, please. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for rest and relaxation."

The two young women looked around skeptically at the dense jungle and the primitive huts that made up their "vacation resort." They were the newest members of K-Pop's hottest girl group, Nmixx, and this was supposed to be their chance to unwind after a grueling world tour. But so far, the only thing that was unwinding was Sullyoon's patience.

Their first night on the island, they were both woken by strange noises - the rustling of leaves and the faint echo of distant chanting. "It's just the wind," Kyujin had murmured, trying to comfort herself as much as Sullyoon. They clung to each other, whispering in the dark, until the sounds of the jungle finally lulled them back to sleep.

But when the sun rose the next day, their carefree vacation turned into a living nightmare. The tribe that called the island home had other plans for their celebrity guests. Bound and gagged, the girls were dragged through the underbrush, the thorns tearing at their clothes and skin. The air grew thick with the scent of fear and the acrid tang of sweat.

In the heart of the island, in a clearing surrounded by torches and leering faces, they were presented to the tribe's leader. He was a towering man, his body covered in intricate tattoos and adorned with bones and feathers. His eyes gleamed with a hunger that made Sullyoon's stomach drop.

"Welcome to our island," he growled in a language they didn't understand. "You will serve us well."

Sullyoon's heart hammered in her chest as she took in the scene before her. The tribe was a collection of fierce-looking men and women, their bodies painted and scarred, holding an assortment of crude weapons. The fear in Kyujin's eyes reflected her own, and she could feel the younger girl's trembling against her.

The leader barked out an order and the ropes binding their wrists were untied. The sudden relief was short-lived as their captors pushed them down onto the hard earth. Rough hands tore at their clothes, leaving them exposed and vulnerable in the dirt. The crowd jeered, reaching out to grope and poke at their bare skin.

Sullyoon's mind raced, trying to think of a way out of this nightmare. She'd heard of islands like this before, where modern civilization had never reached, and she knew the kind of fate that awaited them. But she wasn't about to go down without a fight.

Kyujin whimpered as a particularly brutish man approached, his intentions clear. He grabbed her by the hair and yanked her to her feet, and she stumbled, trying to keep her balance. He tore her shirt away, revealing her small, perky breasts. The crowd roared in approval.

Sullyoon's eyes narrowed, and she balled her fists, ready to spring into action. But before she could do anything, she felt the sharp sting of a slap across her face, and another man pulled her to her feet.

The leader stepped forward, his gaze lingering on their trembling bodies. "You will learn to serve," he said in broken Korean, a cruel smile spreading across his face. "And if you are very good, you may even come to enjoy it."

The two Nmixx members were led to separate huts, the doors slammed shut behind them with a finality that sent a shiver down their spines. The sounds of the jungle grew distant, replaced by the muffled cries and grunts of the tribe's sick games.

Sullyoon felt the bonds around her ankles tighten, and the rough fabric of a sack was pulled over her head. She was hoisted onto a makeshift wooden frame, her limbs stretched wide. The air was hot and sticky, and she could feel the sweat pooling in the small of her back.

The sound of footsteps grew closer, and she braced herself for the horror she knew was coming. The sack was ripped away, and she was met with the leering faces of several of the tribe's men. One approached, his erection obvious through his loincloth, and she could smell the musk of his lust.

Her mind screamed for her to fight back, but her body was held firmly in place. The man leaned in, his breath hot and sour on her face, and whispered, "You will be ours now." With that, he claimed her mouth in a brutal kiss, his tongue forcing its way past her clenched teeth.

Kyujin, meanwhile, was on her knees, the leader's hand tangled in her hair as he forced her to perform an unspeakable act. Her eyes were wide with shock and pain, and she gagged around his thickness.

The days turned into a blur of humiliation and pain. The tribe used the girls in every way they could imagine, pushing them to their limits and beyond. The screams of their group members echoed through the night, a constant reminder of their new reality.

Sullyoon's mind grew numb, the only thing keeping her going was the thought of escape. But with each passing day, hope grew fainter, and she feared that they would never leave the island.

The tribe's cruelty knew no bounds. They were whipped, bound in agonizing positions, and subjected to brutal, unrelenting sex. The girls were no longer the glamorous idols they had been, but mere playthings for the savages' twisted desires.

One evening, as the sun set and painted the sky a deep, foreboding red, the leader approached their shared hut. He carried a whip in one hand and a twisted smile on his lips.

"Tonight, we have a special ceremony," he announced, his eyes glinting in the firelight. "One of you will be chosen to become the bride of the jungle."

Sullyoon felt a jolt of terror at his words. A bride? To what kind of monster? She looked over at Kyujin, who had gone pale, her eyes wide with horror. The younger girl's hands were shaking as she clutched at the tattered remnants of her clothes.

The leader stepped closer, stroking Kyujin's cheek with a finger that left a trail of grime. "You," he said, his voice low and menacing. "Come here."

Kyujin's eyes darted to Sullyoon's, pleading for help, but there was nothing she could do. The other girls in the group had already suffered unspeakable things, and now it was Kyujin's turn.

The ceremony was a twisted mockery of any wedding they had ever seen. The leader painted Kyujin's body with a foul-smelling paste, and the tribe danced around them, chanting in their incomprehensible language. The air was thick with the smell of burning herbs and the sound of drums.

The leader stripped Kyujin completely, displaying her naked and trembling before the entire tribe. He then proceeded to bind her to a large wooden stake in the center of the clearing, her wrists and ankles secured with thick, rough ropes that dug into her skin.

The man was massive, his muscles rippling in the firelight. He bent Kyujin over the stake, her small frame quivering as she tried to resist. But she was no match for his brute strength. He positioned himself behind her, and without preamble, he plunged into her anus with a roar of triumph.

Kyujin's scream was piercing, a sound that would haunt Sullyoon's nightmares for the rest of her life. She had to clench her teeth to keep from crying out herself, but she knew that any sign of weakness would only make things worse.

The leader took his time, savoring Kyujin's pain and the power he had over her. And as she watched, Sullyoon realized that this wasn't just about sex. It was about domination, about breaking them down until they were nothing more than objects to be used and discarded.

But she wasn't going to let that happen. Not to Kyujin, not to any of them. As the leader's attention was fully on Kyujin, she began to work at the ropes around her wrists, feeling for any slack. If she could just get one hand free, she might be able to do something.

The ceremony went on for what felt like an eternity, the sounds of Kyujin's suffering echoing through the jungle. After almost an hour of continuous anal rape, finally, the leader withdrew, and Kyujin's limp body was lowered to the ground, her anus was gaping wide enough as Sullyoon saw the tribe leader's cum dripping out from Kyujin's young anus.

"Now, the others may partake," the leader declared, gesturing to the eager tribe members who had been waiting in line.

Two of the burliest guards grabbed Sullyoon by the arms, pulling her to her feet and forcing her to watch as Kyujin was brutally used. They secured her to a nearby tree, the bark biting into her skin as they bound her wrists tightly. She struggled, but their grip was like iron, and she was powerless to do anything but watch in horror as one man after another approached Kyujin's ravaged body.

The first few men were rough, their thrusts deep and uncaring, their grunts of pleasure mixing with Kyujin's cries of pain. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the air, punctuated by the occasional thud of a fist against Kyujin's backside. Despite the pain she was in, Kyujin's training kicked in, and she managed to keep herself in a position that allowed for the least amount of pain, but it was clear she was in agony.

As the men took their turns, Sullyoon felt a growing sense of anger and desperation. Her eyes searched the shadows for any sign of escape or rescue, but there was none. The tribe reveled in their brutality, cheering and shouting as Kyujin's body was violated over and over again.

Tears streamed down Sullyoon's face as she watched the girl she had come to care for so deeply be reduced to a whimpering mess of pain and despair. The guards holding her in place laughed at her plight, their grip tightening with every sob that tore from Kyujin's lips.

One by one, the men approached Kyujin, their eyes gleaming with a hunger that was all too familiar now. Each thrust was a declaration of their power over her, and she could do nothing but endure. Her anus was torn and bloody, the delicate tissue stretched beyond what any human should have to bear.

Sullyoon's thoughts grew dark, her mind racing with plans for vengeance. She would not let this be their end. Her fingers moved surreptitiously behind her back, working at the knots that bound her wrists. Her nails dug into the ropes, the pain a small price to pay for the chance at freedom.

The night grew darker, the firelight flickering over the scene of carnage. Kyujin's cries grew weaker, her body no longer able to respond to the relentless assault. The leader took her again, his cruel smile never faltering as he forced himself into her gaping wound, pushing her to the very edge of consciousness.

Finally, unable to take anymore, Kyujin's body went limp, her eyes rolling back in her head. The leader stepped back, panting and sated, his member still erect and smeared with blood and excrement. The tribe grew quiet, the only sound the crackle of the fire and the distant call of the jungle's nocturnal creatures.

"Now," the leader said, turning his gaze to Sullyoon. "It is your turn."

The guards released her, and she stumbled forward, her legs wobbly from the effort of staying upright. The leader approached her, his hand outstretched. "You will be the bride of the jungle," he said, his voice low and menacing. "You will bear our children and ensure our line continues."

Sullyoon's mind reeled. This wasn't just about rape and domination; they wanted to use her to breed. She felt a cold fury build in her chest, a fiery determination to survive, to fight back. But she knew that she was outnumbered, outmatched. For now, she had to play along.

The leader's hands roamed her body, his touch as cold as a serpent's. He ripped away the last of her clothes, leaving her just as exposed and vulnerable as Kyujin had been. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and sex, and she could feel the eyes of the entire tribe on her.

He forced her down onto the altar, her legs spread wide for everyone to see. She gritted her teeth, her eyes locked on Kyujin's still form. The first man approached her, his eyes hungry and his member thick and engorged. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, steeling herself for what was to come.

The man didn't bother with gentle touches or sweet words. He simply plunged into her, filling her to the brim with his hardness. Sullyoon bit back a scream, her nails digging into the wood beneath her. The pain was unbearable, a white-hot agony that shot through her core.

One after another, the tribe members took their turn, each one more brutal than the last. She could feel her body growing sore, her pussy stretching to accommodate their massive sizes. The leader watched with a twisted smile, occasionally barking out an order or joining in when the mood struck him.

The night grew long, and the stars above her were cold and uncaring as the men continued to use her. Her mind retreated into a place of darkness, focusing on the sound of the ocean waves in the distance, trying to block out the cacophony of the tribe's grunts and Kyujin's whimpers.

As the last man pulled out of her, she felt the warmth of his seed spurt across her thighs. Her pussy was a mess, filled with the cum of so many men, dripping down to the earth below. The leader approached, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

"You will bear many strong sons for us," he said, his voice thick with lust.

Sullyoon managed a weak nod, her body trembling with exhaustion. The guards untied her from the altar and dragged her back to their hut, where she collapsed onto the dirty floor, her mind and body broken.

The days that followed were a blur of pain and degradation. The tribe used both of them without mercy, taking turns in their hut and often bringing them out for public display. Kyujin was barely conscious most of the time, her eyes glazed over with pain and fear.

Sullyoon felt a cold resolve settle in her heart. They were no longer the glamorous K-Pop stars they had once been; they were now the tribe's playthings, to be used and discarded at will. Yet, amidst the horror, she found a spark of defiance, a fierce determination to survive.

The tribe had no concept of mercy, and every day was a new form of hell. They were subjected to the most depraved acts imaginable, their bodies pushed to the brink of endurance. The men took them in every way possible, leaving no part of their being untouched by their brutality.

The only respite they had were the brief moments when they were allowed to tend to their wounds, which had become a grim daily ritual. They whispered plans of escape, but the island was vast, and the tribe's vigilance unyielding. The hope of rescue had long since vanished, replaced by the harsh reality of their new lives.

One day, as Sullyoon lay on the ground, her body bruised and sore, she overheard some of the tribe members talking. They spoke of a ship that would come in a few days, a ship that would bring more 'gifts' from the outside world. Her eyes widened with a glimmer of hope. If they could somehow get free, maybe they could signal for help or stow away.

The night before the ship was due to arrive, the tribe held another ceremony. The leader approached them with a new set of ropes, a sadistic glint in his eye. "You will both perform for our guests," he said, his voice dripping with anticipation. "You will show them what good little pets you have become."

Sullyoon and Kyujin were brought before the entire tribe, their bodies slick with oil and their wrists bound to a thick wooden pole. They were forced to perform a lewd dance to entertain the guest, their bruised and beaten forms moving in time to the pounding of the drums. The men watched with hungry eyes, waiting for their turn.

THE END

[magics-neptunes-things]

Boom Clap (The sound of my heart)

Hi guys!

This is a second one from the world "Lia & The Firefighter" but you don't have to read it before reading this one. They are related but not like a serie, I don't know if it make sense 😂

It was from an ask so I hope you will be happy with this one, dear anon ♥

Please enjoy!

TW : Firefighter job, injury, blood, fire.

Girl on Fire is the other One Shot of the Serie.

Also the hottie on the right picture is @ylenia94riniti on Instagram.

You like to say that you know Lia by heart and that you can understand her moods and her thoughts really quickly. It’s usually right to be honest, she has almost no secrets for you. But it has to be said that the contrary is right too.

You were already working as a firefighter when you met her and by time she learned to know when you have a bad day. Or when you try to hide something to her, like the fact you almost fall of a bridge while rescuing someone. She knows it’s to protect her but sometimes she hates how you can be so selfless about yourself and your health. Because of that, she takes care of you like she could, making you meal or massive sandwiches to take with you when you are working and being sure that you always have everything you want at her home. Of course, you told her that it’s not what matters to you, but she just glares at you and don’t answer anything.

Today started like always. You waked up and went for a run, then took a shower before going to wake Lia up. Then you had your breakfast together and Lia went to training while you were leaving for work. When you are working during the day, that is usually how you organize your day. After work you find each other at your house, or at Lia’s, to enjoy a night together. Or you go to watch Lia play, it depends on the schedule.

You had several interventions during the day, but nothing really surprising. Then, less than one hour before you finish your day, the alarm sound in the fire station and like your colleagues, you take your things and run to the truck.

While they are driving you there, you learn about the situation very little by little. At the end, you understand that the case is a massive fire in a commercial center, but you don’t know how many people are hurt, if you will be needed inside to evacuate people or somewhere in or around the building to fight the fire.

It’s your job anyway and you have to do it. You don’t really like the moment just before the action, it makes you nervous. When you are in, you are focused and do your things. Now, while you are finishing your RedBull, your mind is racing.

“Alright Y/L/N?”

“Yeah” you only answer.

Your Commander smirks softly and pat your arm. He knows you very well, he was the one being your instructor during your first months at the fire station. He’s still the one scolding you when you need to be.

Your mind went to Lia when you look at the clock, only to realize that she must be at the end of her training. You were supposed to have a casual night in, but you know that she won’t pout if you are coming home later. She’s way more comprehensive that you had ever hope.

But you aren’t able to think about your girlfriend for too long. Soon you arrive at the commercial center, and you understand that you didn’t understand how chaotic all of this would be. There are ambulances everywhere, people are running around. There are screams, cry, people calling each other. But you have to ignore all of that to stay focused.

You follow the order of your Commander, going to help where he asks you to. When he asks you to manage a team for him, you do it without a second thought. You help the medical teams when they need to, and you help to extinguish the fire when you are called for it.

“Where does it come from?” you ask-shout your Commander at one point.

“We don’t know for now. They are talking about putting some of us inside to find it.”

You nod before focusing on your team again and continue to work. You have lost any idea of the time since you are here, but it doesn’t matter for now. The sky is way less clear when your Commander comes to you again, grabbing your arm to have your attention.

“They ask me to give my best men to go inside the building and look where the fire comes from” he says to you.

You don’t roll your eyes like you would love to, you hate the fact that they are talking about “men” and not “people” or “firefighter”.

“Understood, Sir” you answer with a straight face.

He smiles softy, understanding very easily what you are thinking. But he doesn’t comment it, choosing to continue what he needs to say to you.

“I told them that you were the best. So you will go inside with a team I’ll manage from outside, with talkie walkie and a camera that you will have on your helmet. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir”

He looks at you for several seconds before nodding.

“Take some minutes to rest inside our truck, cool off, drink some water and eat something. Do something to change your mind. I’m coming in twenty minutes to give you your other uniform.”

“Yes, Sir” you answer once again.

He then makes you sign to go, and you oblige. You are happy to take your uniform off, breathing completely some oxygen without smoke. Like he requests, you drink a bottle of water, eat a banana and cereal bare. You use a little bit of water to wash your face and go to the toilets. Then you try to remember what he asked you to do.

Rest, drink water, eat something, change your mind.

You didn’t change your mind.

Biting your lip, you take your phone and wonder some seconds if it’s really a good idea. But then you decide to ignore your thoughts and press the call button.

It rings three times before Lia picks up.

“Hello?”

You have to clear your voice before talking.

“Hi, Cookie. It’s me.”

“Is everything okay?”

You can hear the concern in her voice. Maybe it wasn’t really a good idea to call her, it was probably selfish of you.

“Yeah hum, I will come late at home, I think. Maybe don’t wait for me and go to bed. Or maybe you can go to Leah?”

“She’s not home tonight, but I’ll be fine by myself, don’t worry.”

“I’m sorry for cancelling our night.”

“Don’t, it’s ok, really. I understand Pookie. Of course I would rather being with you, but I’m far from mad, yeah?” she says, her voice softer than ever.

You nod and there is a little silence. You would rather for her to be with someone, you know she will be less worried if she’s with one of her friend. You wonder what Lia is thinking about.

“You promise me that everything is fine?” she asks again.

“Yeah, I… I just wanted to hear your voice”

You can’t see your girlfriend, but you are almost sure that she’s rolling her eyes right now. It makes you smile softly.

“Do you remember the only time when you tried to hide me something?”

“Of course I do” you smile.

Flashback

It was stupid of you. Both wanting to hide your injury and your injury itself. It was at the beginning of your relationship with Lia, you were officially together for four months, even if you started dating for six months now.

When you took the call, you didn’t expect things to go that way, to be honest. It was just a fight between two group of teenagers, nothing you couldn’t handle. It’s one of the first things you learned to manage, so you didn’t really thing twice before going and getting involved in this story.

Still while resting at your place, of course, your superiors are here and you won’t take their job.

“Hey guys, what’s going on?” your Commander asks some teenagers.

They probably are like 16 or 17, like your little brother. Even if he is probably at school right now.

You hear several of them talking animatedly to him, explaining what the point in this fight is. You don’t understand a lot to be honest, but it seems to be a fight during two groups on the same neighborhood. When they mention that the other group is hiding somewhere and waiting for them, your Commander sighs.

“Ok, I’ll call the police” he says, before turning in your direction. “Y/L/N, Scott, go have a look around please.”

You nod and follow the instructions, looking behind you to be sure that Scott is following you. He is. You don’t mind being in front of the two when you realize after having waited for him that he doesn’t want to be next to you. You don’t care, even if you don’t know really good this place.

You are scanning the area, trying to learn some things from here when someone shout at you from the other side. It seems to you that the voice comes from the height of a building, and you are looking for it before feeling an awful pain next to your ribs.

Several hours later, you are coming home. You groan when you see that Lia’s car is here, meaning that she is waiting for you inside. You are always thrilled to have her, but not tonight. You however put a big smile on your face when she smiles at you when you enter your house.

“Hi, Beautiful” you great her with a big smile and a kiss on her cheek.

She’s sitting on a stool in your kitchen, and you can see that she cooked something behind her. You keep a straight face when she passes her arms around your waist.

“I made us chicken creamy pasta, is that ok?” she asks, following your gaze.

“It’s perfect. Do you mind if I take a shower before eating?”

“Of course not” she smiles.

You kiss her forehead and her lips several times before going to the bathroom adjoining your bedroom. You close the door softly behind you and immediately let yourself go against the door, relieved not to have to hide your pain anymore.

You quickly get rid of your shirt and went to face the mirror. The cut you received while being stabbed earlier today isn’t very deep, but it still hurt like a bitch. You didn’t want to go to the hospital, you gave yourself the care it needed in your opinion, but maybe some painkiller won’t be a bad idea.

You sigh when you realize that you are bleeding again. Scott saw what happened and call your Commander even if you told him not to. You are ashamed of how you got hurt, to be honest. It was a stupid injury made stupidly by a stupid person.

You wince with pain when you press some compress on your stomach, trying to stop the bleeding. You still pressing against it while hiding the bloody bandage who were covering your wound until now, not wanting for Lia to find them. You don’t want to worry her. You must have taken way more time than you thought because soon Lia is knocking on the door.

“Are you ok in here?” Lia asks softly.

“Yeah. I’m coming” you answer, grimacing again while putting another bandage on your body.

You really hope that Lia wasn’t thinking about having some naughty activities tonight.

After that you take a very quick shower and went to your room to put some fresh underwear with a jogging and a black top tank, in case you start bleeding again, you won’t scare your girlfriend to death.

“Sorry I took so long” you excuse yourself to Lia when you meet her again in the kitchen.

You pass your arm around her waist this time, very careful not to touch your injury with her body.

“No worries. Should we eat now?”

You nod, trying to help her dress the table but she’s faster than you are. You roll your eyes playfully but let her do it, happy to see her so at ease in your house. It’s pretty early in your relationship but you are so in love with her. You still feel like you need to be careful with her though, not wanting to scare her. She never seemed to be against your job, but you both decided that you will not talk to her about what you are seeing during your days. At first you thought that it was because she will be maybe disgusted by things, but you realized some weeks before that it was because she is scared for you.

“It’s delicious Babe” you praise her.

You smile when you see her blushing and you grab her hand softly to intervenes your fingers. You ask her about her day and listen to her with attention. You met her friends some time ago and you are able to put a face on every name. You have to admit that you go to watch her play every time you can too.

After the dinner you decided to watch a movie and let Lia chose something. Cuddling with her is usually your favorite moment of the day, but you realize very quickly that you will have trouble to find a good position.

You finally pass your leg on Lia’s, your hand around her stomach and put your face on her shoulder. All of that while she’s sitting with her leg extended on the long part of your L couch.

“Comfy?” she asks.

You nod and don’t see her smile because of your position, but you feel her kiss your head, and you rub your face softly against her hoody. During the movie, you can feel her fingertip drawing the tattoos on your arm and for once you really want for her to keep her arm here. She just has to pass it under your tank and you’re screwed.

“You’re tense, Pookie” she whispers when there only is twenty minutes of the movie.

“Am I?”

You are. You are a ball of nerves and when Lia hums before searching your lips for a kiss it’s even worse. But you kiss her softly, stroking her face with your thumb.

“It just was a long day” you say before kissing her cheek and resume your position.

Lia doesn’t push it, holding your tighter against her. Your injury is pounding and you can’t wait to take another painkiller, stronger this one maybe. You didn’t went to the hospital, so you don’t have any prescriptions. You try to steady your breathing, jaw a little more tense than usual.

It’s a relief when the movie is finished, but you can’t jump on your feet and just run to the bathroom. In fact, the make out session you have with Lia after it almost make you forget your state. Until you see your girlfriend frown softly.

“Why are you wet here?” she frowns, looking at your stomach.

You frown too and automatically put a hand where your wound is. Fuck. Your tank is indeed damp. And when you remove your hand, it’s red.

“Y/N?! What the fuck!”

You don’t know if you are more stunned about the blood or your girlfriend’s dirty word.

Long story short, she takes you to the hospital without you saying anything. She scowled you for almost ten minutes after you saw the doctor and you felt like a little child. But since that moment, you never hide this kind of things to her.

“I’m not lying though, I really just wanted to hear your voice” you point softly.

Lia hums before talking again.

“Are you at the fire station?”

“No”

“Are… Are you at the commercial center?”

“Y/N!”

You jump when you hear your commander’s voice. You turn to see him coming for you. Was it twenty minutes already?

“I have to go, Cookie. See you soon yeah?”

“Yes. Be safe, please?”

“Promise. I love you, Lia.”

“I love you too.”

You hang up and raise your eyes on your commander. He’s smirking at you but doesn’t say anything. He likes Lia a lot, they met several times, and he told you that you couldn’t have found a better match. You are agreeing with him about it. Lia has everything you were looking for.

“You could have said to here I say hi.”

“I will next time, Sir.”

You are smiling softly too. It’s probably the first time since you left the fire station. It finally was a good thing to have call her, you feel a little more focused and calmer. You follow your Chief where you are waited and start to take the instructions. What you have to do is clear in your mind.

You take the lead of the other firefighters and go inside the mall. Everything is blurry and probably hot, but you don’t feel anything thanks to your new uniform.

Following what was told to you, you advance slowly but are looking around for your safety and of course, you have to find where the fire comes from. You don’t see anything for now, the fire is on another level. After sharing this information, you go to the floor above you.

You take some minutes there too, the heath is getting hotter and you are sure that you are getting closer to the source of the problem. There is only the sound of the fire, but it was until a shrill whistle catch your attention.

“Wait. They cutted the gas, right?” you ask around to the four other men who are with you.

“They told us they did” one of them confirms you.

“Please ask for a confirmation. Until you have it, don’t move.”

The man who answered you take his talkie-walkie to exchanged with the team outside while you take the direction of the sound. It really sounds like a gas leak but it’s hard to find the right place with all the other noises around. You are so concentrated that you almost jump out your skin when you hear one of the men calling you.

“Y/L/N we have to get out! They forgot that part of the building!”

At the same time, you find the source of the whistle, and it doesn’t look good.

Shit.

“I’m fine for fuck’s sake, leave me alone!”

You are sitting on a hospital bed, an oxygen mask on your face and two doctors around you, trying to make you hear reason. Your Commander is here too, seeming to have the time of his life.

“Miss, please lie down” one of them says.

You groan in exasperation. You were still inside the building when the explosion happens, but you aren’t hurt. You breathed gas though and that’s why you are here. But you just want to go home.

Your Commander push on your shoulder to make you oblige, what you do before pressing your finger against your eyebrows. You are going to explode too.

“Don’t worry, her girlfriend is coming, she will behave way more better with her around” your Commander says at your doctors with an unmissable amazement in his voice.

“Lia’s coming?” you raise your head.

“The team called her.”

Great. A good new, at last. If they tell you that you have to stay here for the night, you might lose it. In fact, the promise of Lia’s coming is enough for you to cool off a little. You don’t have your phone with you, so you weren’t able to inform her about what happened yourself.

You let the medical team do their job, even if you keep a scold on your face all the process.

Lia arrives several minutes after, knocking softly on the door. She looks worried and you frown. What did your team say to her? She seems relieved to see you sitting on the bed, even if your Commander put a hand on you to keep you from getting up when you try.

“Good evening Lia. I’ll let you alone” he says, smiling warmly at your girlfriend.

Lia greats him back, before turning in your direction when he leaves the room. It’s passed midnight now and she’s usually already asleep. She seems exhausted and worried.

“I’m fine” you say when she reaches you.

Lia doesn’t answer anything, but you can see her scanning every part of your body visible with this awful hospital dress.

“Are you hurt somewhere?”

You shake your head for only answer, adding a “I swear” when she looks at you with skepticism. Your discussion earlier comes back in your mind, and you take her hand in yours before talking again. It’s going to be hard not to tell her everything but still enough for her to stop worrying.

“I breathed some gas and my oxygen level was a little low” you explain. “They wanted me here to be sure that my body was recovering correctly.”

“Wait, were you inside the commercial center?”

You don’t know how she knows that, but after you remember that she might have listened the radio or something while coming to see you. So you just nod and shrug before talking again.

“We were almost outside when it exploded” you admit. “The team forgot to cut the gas where we were but when we learned that we get out as soon and quickly as possible.”

You can see panic in Lia’s eyes and that’s exactly what you don’t want. What if she leaves you because she’s too scared about your job? You won’t recover from this; you would rather explode with a building.

“But you’re fine, yes?” she asks finally.

“I am. I promise, Cookie.”

She nods softly before hugging you. At least. You can feel your body totally relax against hers and you close your eyes, hiding your face in her neck. Her smell, the heath of her body, everything from her is comforting for you.

“Thanks for being careful and coming back to me” she says after several times.

“Every time” you mumble back. “As long as you are not tired of me”

“Never.”

She squeeze you against her and you take advantage of your position to hide your face in her breast, before she kiss your forehead.

You are suddenly very tired, but it has nothing to do with the gas this time. Now that Lia is here, you feel good again. She’s stroking your neck with her fingertips, and you kiss hers several times, smiling softly when you see the goosebumps on her skin.

“I’m so in love with you, Li” you whisper softly.

She slowly and tenderly takes your face between her hands to kiss you tenderly. You kiss her back, of course.

“I love you too, so much” she whispers against your lips before pecking them several more times.

Still smiling, you let her. You would never refuse her a kiss anyway. After that she keeps your face in her hands and look at you closely.

“You look tired. You should probably sleep.”

“Stay with me?”

“Of course.”

In fact, you managed to take her with you in your bed, cuddling against her body with a sigh of relief. Maybe you can stay here after all, if Lia is here.

[fangirlfuel]

I Believe in You

---

You knew something was off the moment Kimi walked into your apartment.

He always tried to hide his emotions ,stoic as ever, calm on the outside even when he was on fire inside. But you’d learned to read between the lines: the way he kicked his shoes off a little too fast, the quiet click of the door behind him instead of the usual slam, the way his bag landed on the floor with a heavy thud instead of being placed neatly on the hook.

You peeked up from the couch where you were curled under a blanket, your laptop softly humming beside you. "Hey," you said gently. "Long day?"

Kimi stood there for a moment, frozen like he didn’t know what to do with himself. And then, he nodded, barely. His blue eyes flicked to yours for a heartbeat, glassy with something he didn’t let out often.

"I signed," he finally said. His voice cracked in the middle.

You blinked. "Signed?"

He nodded again. "Mercedes. It’s official."

Your heart skipped a beat. "Wait, Kimi, are you serious?"

He gave you the tiniest smile, like it hurt him to do it, like the weight of the world was sitting on his chest. "Yeah. Toto called this morning. We signed. I’m in for next season."

You were on your feet in an instant, blanket forgotten on the floor. "Kimi! Oh my God!" you gasped, rushing over to him. "That’s amazing!"

But when you threw your arms around him, he didn’t hug you back right away. You pulled back a little to look up at him. That’s when you saw it, the tension in his jaw, the worry swimming in his eyes, his shoulders drawn up like he was waiting for someone to yell at him.

Your hands slid up to cup his face. "Hey. What’s going on? This is good news. Isn’t it?"

He exhaled, his voice small. "I should be happy. But all I feel is....pressure. Everyone’s expecting me to be the next Lewis or Michael or God even George. And I’m not. I’m just me."

You felt your heart shatter at the rawness in his voice.

"You’re not just anything, Kimi," you whispered.

He looked away, eyes glued to the floor. "What if I’m not ready? What if I mess it all up? What if I crash in my first race? What if–"

"Stop." You said it softly, but firmly, pulling him closer by the collar of his hoodie. "Kimi Antonelli, you are one of the most talented, hardworking, insanely driven people I have ever met. Mercedes didn’t choose you by accident. They see what I see. What everyone sees. You belong there."

He finally wrapped his arms around you, burying his face into your neck like he was a kid again, desperate to be held. You felt his body tremble slightly as he exhaled. Maybe relief. Maybe fear. Maybe both.

You ran your fingers through his dark curls, holding him tight.

"I’m scared," he admitted.

"I know," you said, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "But that doesn’t mean you’re not ready."

"You were the first person I wanted to tell," he mumbled into your shoulder. "Even before my parents. Before anyone."

That made your chest squeeze with something so soft and warm it almost hurt.

"You’re the first person I wanted to celebrate with. But also....the first person I needed to tell because I knew you’d understand if I wasn’t jumping up and down."

You pulled back just enough to cup his face again, brushing your thumbs under his eyes. "Of course I understand. You’ve been dreaming of this since you were a kid. It’s not just about driving anymore ,it’s about pressure, and expectations, and cameras, and headlines. But Kimi, listen to me: none of that matters right now. What matters is you wanted this. You earned this. And you’re not alone."

His eyes softened, and for the first time since walking in, he looked like he could breathe again.

"You really think I can do it?"

"I know you can. Because I’ve seen you drive in the rain, in the chaos, in the worst conditions. I’ve seen you keep your head when everyone else loses theirs. And I’ve seen you come home after a bad race and still be kind. Still be good."

You took his hand and placed it over your heart. "You have this, Kimi. Right here. Every step of the way."

He pulled you into another hug, tighter this time, like he was holding onto an anchor.

You stayed like that for a long time, swaying a little in the quiet of your apartment. The soft hum of the radiator filled the silence, but it wasn’t awkward. It was the kind of silence that felt like home.

Finally, he pulled back and gave you a small, real smile. "You always know what to say."

"It’s part of the job description. Girlfriend, number one fan, and designated speech-giver."

He chuckled. "You forgot professional shoulder to cry on."

"And cuddler. And celebratory cake baker. Speaking of.. " You perked up. "We need cake. This is huge, Kimi."

His smile grew, and he nodded. "Can it be chocolate?"

"For the future Mercedes driver? Anything."

You tugged him toward the kitchen, your hands still linked. But just before you reached the doorway, he stopped you.

"Wait."

You turned, surprised.

He looked at you like you were his whole world, his thumb gently tracing over the back of your hand.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "For being proud of me even when I’m not sure I deserve it."

You leaned in and kissed him softly. "You always deserve it."

And that night, you made cake together badly, with flour in your hair and cocoa on his nose and he laughed more than he had in weeks. And when you curled up in bed later, wrapped around each other in the dark, he whispered into your skin:

"I think I can do this."

And you whispered back, with all the love in the world:

"You can. And I’ll be here for all of it."

---

[yaut-jaknowit]

Hey 👋

So this is my first time requesting something, so i hope its clear with what i mean.

I love your Vic and Uie storys so much, and while reading i got a idea

So we all know vic is a little 'rougher around the edges' if i can call it that. So the reader (GN or more female oriented reader) and him had some kind of like a argument/disagreement on something and it kinda got out of hand. Now we know he would never hurt us, but reader just kind of got scared of him. Like not screaming and running away, but more the staying quiet and trying to leave the situation kind of scared. So for awhile they stick to Uihoy for comfort. But they make up in the end

So its Angst to Fluff

(Im kinda using myself in this situation cause i think a upset yautja is scary, and i dont like being yelled at)

I hope its not to difficult to write or understand

Hope you have a great Day or Night

Thanks :)

Never Cower From Me

Pairing: Vic'tao (male yautja) x GH!Reader x Uihoy (Male Yautja)

Word Count: 1940

Summary: Life in the space was much different to live in one place, on one planet. You've learned to adapt with your mates at your sides to guide you. On a random, backwater planet, you are doing one of your chores: collecting water. The water pump had given out some time ago forcing you to collect it by hand. While carrying the jugs back to into the ship, you trip on something so easily avoidable if picked up. You go to confront Vic'tao about it only to be met with a reason Yautjas are the most dangerous aliens in the universe.

Author Note: This kinda broke my heart but it makes a lot of sense too! I always wish the best for my characters. Uihoy would throw down to if Vic ever hurt (not that he would). Even if by accident. Thank you for the ask!

Masterlist

Ao3

After a few of the jugs are full of water, you lug them onto your back with a grunt and started the short journey back to the ship. The muscles in your legs strained at the this third trip uphill with about fifty or so pounds added to you. This was a common occurrence now since the pump had broken. It wasn’t too terrible of a job plus got to help around your shared home and gain muscle in the process.

On this random planet that had become a good pit stop, the weather was nice and calm. Alien birds and other creatures called out in the jungle, bring life and song to the space. Sweat dripped down your face. Your shirt long tossed off. You’ve gotten over the nervous of showing off too much skin to these guys or anyone in general. In a way, you’ve adapted to how Yautjas lived. Not that you’ll ever be able to fully live like them on worlds like this. Yet, that’s why you had each other. You had skills and talents they didn’t have. All three of you complimented and completed each other.

These are where they are good… And other’s you just want to rip off one of your heads.

Your toe catches on the lip of something. Your entire body goes careening forward with the added weight. A scream leaves your lips along the down. Then, you’re squished between two jugs of water. The sudden weight on your ribs coursing them groan.

In a moment, of shock, you just lie there with an airy groan. The last of the air in your lungs gone. You gasped and refilled your lungs before rolling onto your side. The jug on your back slams into the good as well. All you could do in the moment was relish in the torment and anger of what just happened. Then, you slipped the packs off your shoulders and unsteadily stood up.

Nothing felt… broken. Just sore with a bit of pain each deep breath you took. You glanced back to see what you had tripped on and about blew a gasket.

“Vic’tao!” you screamed his full name at the top of bruised lungs. The ship went silent as if it, too, held its breath at the ass chewing one of your mates was about to receive.

Said yellow Yautja didn’t appear. The hunter became the hunted. You scour the entire ship to find him in the cockpit. Uihoy nowhere to be seen to save his unlucky mate.

You stomped your way into the cockpit, steaming blowing your ears. “How many fucking times do I have to tell you to pick up after yourself?! You act like a child that I have to pick up afterwards.” His orange-yellow eyes blazed with fire when you called him a ‘child’.

His shoulders drew up to his upper mandibles, hands curling into his fists. A sharp, sudden growl ripped from his chest. Vic’tao stomped over to you in a threatening display. A display that despite being his mate for two years… scared you. Your heart leapt into your throat and got stuck. Vic’tao towered over you with his 6’10 figure that struck fear in the bravest of soldiers. And you weren’t a solider, you were his mate.

Regret was bitter in your mouth.

“You dare call me a child! I’m no suckling. I’m a pauking hunter,” he roared at you, getting far too close for comfort in a moment like this. You couldn’t help as your body began to shake under his piercing gaze. “And that means I get to do anything I want to. Including putting my footwear wherever I please.”

The yellow Yautja growled deep in his chest as he bent his back and crowded into your personal space. His hot breath washed over your face. There was no words to say. His yelling and too near of presences activated something in your brain, locking you in place. You kept your gaze down on the ground, not daring to meet an angered predator’s eyes.

“There’s never been a problem about it until you come along,” Vic’tao sneered. Oh, that broke something in your heart. You could hear a crack Tears brimmed the edges of your eyes. A mantra of ‘don’t cry’ echoes in your mind. You can’t show weakness in front of a predator.

All you could do was just nod your head and tried to toe your way out of the situation. Vic’tao’s sharp eyes instantly caught the movement. “Now, you’re going to pauking run after daring to call me a suckling.” You flinched, muscles instantly locking up. The first tear falling.

Realization dawned over his features. Guilt swarmed those bright eyes of his. A new stillness, quietness entered the air. You were the first to break it by spinning on your heel and rushing out of the cockpit only to run blindly into a familiar, warm chest.

A blurry, blob of purple stood in front of you. You were quick to wipe away the tears. Uihoy was looking over you, a scary expression on his face. The purple Yautja wrapped his arms around your torso and began to purr. The affects were instant. You melted into his warm body and stopped shaking as bad.

Vic took a breath. “Silence!” Uihoy hissed. Only one word was needed. Your mate scooped you up in his arms and carried you away from the situation. You didn’t even dare to glance over his shoulder. Not with the terrifying reminder of how Vic’tao eyes had darkened with anger.

Your mate carriers you into the comfort and safety of your shared bedroom. Not a word is uttered from either of you. Uihoy sits down in the middle of the concave bed in the floor and settles you in his lap. Your side pressed against his chest. His purring doesn’t stop. It rolls over you and allows the tension coiled in your body start to relax. Your eyes grew heavy the longer he purred. A well known tactic to get you to calm down. And that you needed.

When you wake up the next day, only Uihoy was there. No familiar heat to press against your back> A part of you deflated at that. That yesterday wasn’t a nightmare you conjure up. You sagged against Uihoy. His arms slung over your waist pulled you towards him an extra inch. You snuggled up closer to him and purged yesterday’s memory from your mind. At least, for now.

From then, Vic made himself scarce. The only times you would see him was fleeting moments. Just the hint of his yellow and blue scales before he scampers off to a different part of the ship.

You resumed collecting water only to find the job already completed and the entryway cleared of any shoes or boots. All of them tucked away in the space they were supposed to be. Uihoy also hung around more often than not. Either to scare off Vic’tao or to offer his presences for comfort. You gratefully took it, needing some distance from Vic’tao for the time being.

Because being reminded in such a way that they could cause serious injury so easily was terrifying. You hated that for two different reasons.

At nights, even after departing that planet, Vic’tao wouldn’t step into the bedroom. You didn’t know where he would go. Not that it mattered much. The only comfort you needed was Uihoy’s.

The bulky purple giant would stick close by an even herd you towards places where he had chores to do. In downtime, he would offer his lap to you, which you could never deny. Then, Uihoy would pull up a movie or read or just hold you. Whatever you needed, your mate gave you. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.

Two weeks of this went by. The ship was docked on another planet that was populated by intelligent life. All you saw of Vic’tao was a flash of yellow down the ramp and he was gone from sight. You couldn’t help the small frown that graced your lips. This was starting to hurt your heart.

It wasn’t a trio without your third.

The two of you strolled off of the docked ship, paid the fee, and went off into the bustling city. You’ve never been here before. A whole new language that Uihoy had to resort to his biomask to communicate with the locals. As for yourself, you stuck to Uihoy’s side like glue. Not daring to wander off in this new, unknown place.

At times, it felt like someone was watching you. Yet, when you try to scan the crowds, nothing stuck out. Only a few on lookers who have never seen a human before. It wasn’t just them though.

Your eyes narrowed in response. A huff left your lips. A tug on your hand brought you back to your immediate surroundings. Uihoy’s gaze was on you. Concern and worry flickering in them. You give him a shake of your head to brush it off the situation and let him guide you through the vendor alleyway.

This is one of best times you like being off the ship. You get to window ship and see new things. Though, the crowded streets are annoying and a bit dangerous depending what species is walking around. Some don’t have courtesy to watch out for the small creatures around them.

A few items along the way caught your eye. You didn’t buy them though, thinking it was best not to add more to your collection. So, the two of you continued on, going well into the day. The sun began to set. Both of you decided to head back to the ship and wait for Vic’tao to return if he hasn’t.

What was waiting for you in the entryway of the ship had you gasped.

Every item you had showed even the slightest of interest in was laid out of a blanket on the floor. On the other side was a kneeling Vic’tao. Instantly, you connected the dots of it being him who was watching you the entire time.

The shamed Yautja timidly lifted his head. His blue, grey tresses swayed with the move. The sorrow, the regret, the anguish in his eyes broke your heart even more. He tilted his face back down. His hands toyed with he other in his lap.

Behind you, Uihoy came up and placed his hands on your shoulders.

“I-“ Vic’tao swallowed hard. “I want to apologize for my actions, my sweet mate.” He kept his head bowed. “I never meant for my voice to raise at you for any reason. Ever. I can’t take back the horrible things I’ve said. But, I pray to Paya that you can find a way to forgive.” His hands balled into fists to stop them from moving.

Uihoy’s hands were light. They slipped off your shoulders as you took a step forward. You walked around the gifts and stopped at Vic’s side. Your mate timidly raised his head to look at you. A soft smile graced your lips. You kneeled down and cupped his lower mandibles.

Hope blossomed in his golden eyes.

A minute nod was give him. “Yes, love. I forgive. All I ask is to never do that again.” You rubbed your thumb against his mandibles and take a deep breath. “I, too, am sorry for calling you a child. I did not mean it.” You should’ve let those words leave your mouth in the first place. He despised it.

He nodded in your grasp. “Promise.” His upper mandible raised in a smile gesture.

“Promise.”

[jesncin]

Where the Wild Things Are, morals for kids, and queer art

One of my favorite things about this children's book is that the way adults respond to it is a great litmus test for how much they get kids.

At it's core, Where the Wild Things Are is a book about a tantrum. Max misbehaves, is sent to his room without supper, imagines a world where he gets to be in charge and let all his monstrous rage out, but when he's had his fun? "Max the king of all wild things was lonely and wanted to be where someone loved him best of all" he says goodbye to the beasts and makes his way back home where "he found his supper waiting for him. And it was still hot." It's still hot. The book describes his journey into and out of Where The Wild Things Are as taking "years, weeks, days" that he can smell his supper "far away across the world" but that's because everything feels so big when you're a kid. Your tantrums feel like they last an eternity but by the time you're back from it, your supper is still hot.

Deep down, Max understands that his mom sent him to bed without supper because she cares about him. Because when he's out having a wild rumpus with the beasts that follow his every command, he still sends them to bed without supper. Max might not understand why, but he sure does repeat that action to the beasts he watches over as king. Supper is still waiting for Max when he returns because his mom understands that even though Max misbehaves, it's not coming from a place of malice. It's a tantrum, and kids come back from that. They don't mean the cruel things they say or do.

So when I see grown ups read this book and go "what the heck?' This book is about a spoiled jerk who gets to boss monsters around and come back home to a nice meal? Where's his punishment??? He didn't learn a thing! What's the lesson?" I'm just amused. "he threatens his mom and she lets that slide??" Dude, the mom calls him a "WILD THING!" and he responds "I'LL EAT YOU UP" a child can't threaten you. "what if this book influences my child to act out, thinking they'll be rewarded??" Kids are going to act out no matter how you raise them.

This book has stayed with me because it's pretty to look at, it scared me, understood me and as I grew older I learned that the author, Maurice Sendak was queer. Sendak was also the son of Polish-Jewish immigrants escaping the Holocaust. He never told his parents he wasn't straight. "All I wanted was to be straight so my parents could be happy. They never, never, never knew." Adults constantly demand moral closure from kids' media. To them, kids have to be taught and disciplined and influenced into the right behaviors. But Where the Wild Things Are isn't that kind of book. This book gave me a space to let out my messy, ugly, tantrum feelings without being judged or punished for it. I didn't have to learn a lesson. I got to go to Where the Wild Things Are and come back when I'm ready.

I'm a children's book author now, and there's something so special about being able to connect to another queer creator through their work like this. My book also talks about how important it is to have the space to just feel and make sense of change. A lot of queer art is inherently challenging. To know that even the stuff we craft to nurture kids can still confound and challenge their parents? "What if this book influences our kids??" some things about queer art never change.

[salmalin]

My sincerest apologies and warmest welcome to my rant about FF7: Crisis Core. Or, as I like to call it,

Propaganda: The Video Game

I say this with the utmost affection. Crisis Core ranks really high up there in my favorite Final Fantasy 7 installments. I played it when it first came out, borrowing it from a friend to play on a borrowed PSP. And, the more I learn about the game and the more I replay it, the more everything lines up.

This game is not about Zack Fair.

This game is about how Capitalistic Propaganda can sink into every aspect of life to the point where it is entirely indistinguishable from reality. And it’s very overt about it. So…

Here we go.

My treatise on Propaganda’s starring role in Crisis Core.

Part One: The Timeline

Something that a lot of people gloss over due to decades of Child Heroes in media—Japanese Shonen and Shoujo series in particular—is how young these protagonists are. We’ll hand-wave a lot of stuff in non-live-action series with just a little bit of suspension of disbelief. And that’s honestly just accepted these days. But here’s the thing about those hand-waves.

Final Fantasy 7 doesn’t do that.

Now, FF7 hand-waves a lot of stuff. For example, how far you can travel in a day by foot, the distance a man weighing approximately 165lbs can jump after being genetically fused with what might as well be a cocaine demon (Jenova), and how much hairspray one can reasonably carry on a cross-country journey while on the run from the feds.

Age is not one of them.

Exhibit A: Yuffie Kisaragi.

Do I really need to say more? She acts her age. So does Zack. And Aerith, even. Most of the characters in the original lineup were over twenty for a good reason. We see several kids in the series, and they all act their age, too—both the OG and the remake. Age is not a thing that FF7 really grapples with. It’s something they take relatively seriously.

Now, to the point.

Zack is 16 when Crisis Core starts…

… and he was 13 when he ran away from home without his parents’ knowledge to join the military.

Which accepted him.

At 13.

Without a parental permission slip.

Think about that for a second.

… Or for the next several parts of this breakdown.

Part Two: The Main Character

As I mentioned in the introduction, Zack is not the main character of the events of Crisis Core. Instead, he is the focal point of the second person POV. This is not the first time Square has done this. It was done most notably with FF9, FF10, and FF12. (I’m not going to go on an Akira Kurosawa rant right now, but please check out his film “The Hidden Fortress”. FF12 and Star Wars episodes 4-6 borrow heavily from this film.) The purpose and position of this character is such that they might best witness the effects the other characters make on the world as their stories unfold, usually in the role of a love interest. For Akira Kurosawa, it may have been told this way because these people are most effected by the decisions being made.

“Well, then, Sal,” you may be asking, “who would you say is the main character? Would that be Aerith, since she’s the love interest, like in the other games?”

No, actually.

It’s the antagonist.

And by that, I mean Genesis.

Hear me out. I used to hate Genesis, for I was once young, full of judgement for flamboyancy (thanks, internalized homophobia), and was led by the narrative to believe he was mean to his friends. Then I met my Lovely beta who loved him, so I wrote a fic for her as a gift. So for that I kinda just… read stuff. Because that’s the thing about Propaganda—you gotta read stuff to navigate it. I read the in-game emails. I re-watched all the scenes I could get my hands on with him. I read his wiki and tried to track down more information about him. Then I watched the scenes in Japanese and gained a better understanding of not just Genesis, but Sephiroth’s character. And I realized that Genesis was put on this road from the start. In fact, a big part of the fact that he’s seen the way he is in Canon—only at his most hostile and lowest points—is because the story is told through Zack’s point of view.

So before we get into the breakdown, here’s the hard facts about Genesis.

1. He was a test tube baby who may or may not technically be Angeal’s fraternal twin brother, which we are not going to unpack right now.

2. He was adopted by a relatively rich family.

3. He was a child genius (which requires not only resources, but drive to achieve), and at a tender young age of like… ten or something? He decided to mess around and literally invented pasteurization. Which is incredible, and really speaks to his knowledge of the world and ability to grasp complex concepts even at a young age. But, again, this is not the time or place to unpack that.

4. He was best friends with Angeal, who might as well have been the sweetest, kindest boy to ever walk the Planet. (I’m biased. I love him.)

5. As a teenager, he became fixated on Sephiroth, who had gained national acclaim as a SOLDIER despite them being the same age. (Please see part 1 and think about that for a second.) He then goes to join SOLDIER and brings Angeal with him. And Angeal brings his step-father’s puritanical “hard work is honorable” mindset with him. (On that note, Angeal and his father’s arc really are a wonderfully scathing letter to companies that overwork their employees and how toxic/unhealthy that line of thinking is. But. Again. We are not unpacking that right now.)

6. At one point he became consumed with LOVELESS, a series of poems with heavy prose and symbolism thicker than syrup. It got to the point where he was so well known for it that there was an entire fanclub dedicated to both him and analyzing the text.

7. While he was in SOLDIER, he repeatedly had his achievements publicly accredited… to Sephiroth.

Over and over and over again.

Everyone did, really. They mention it in the beginning of the game. Sephiroth even got public credit for Zack’s raid on the castle when he wasn’t even there. How much of his legacy is real? How much of it is made up? How much of it was faked? We don’t know. No one knows. But he keeps getting credit, anyways. And when Genesis confronts him about it, Sephiroth doesn’t care. In the Japanese version of their fight scene, you could even say he indirectly implies that he wants Genesis to take his place as the “hero”. In the English, Sephiroth’s line is, “Come and try.” But in the Japanese the line is closer to, “Wouldn’t that be nice?” Which, depending on how you take his tone, can mean wildly different things—from mocking, to earnest, or even admiration—which is especially to tell because he might be annoyed with Genesis at the moment.

Fun Fact: In Ever Crisis, Sephiroth explicitly says they are making up his achievements in the press to target boys his age for recruitment. (Thus why they accepted Zack at age 13.)

My theory on this line is that he is being cynical; that Genesis doesn't understand just how harrowing and even humiliating his experience has been. This only enforces my theory that the "come and try" translation in the English not only does a disservice to a line as wonderfully heavy as, "Wouldn't that be nice?", but fundamentally misunderstands Sephiroth as a character.

8. Genesis then took the fight to Shin-Ra. Inspiring a good chunk of their staff to leave the company, he then staged multiple attacks on facilities, staff, and the main building—which also spilled out into the city of Midgar. He murdered his parents, buried them, killed everyone in town, and… Yeah. It wasn’t pretty. A lot of innocent people died simply because they were vaguely associated with Shin-Ra. These are the actions of a villain. What’s more, this is clearly a sign that he has been acclimatized to death and violence by Shin-Ra to the point where he doesn’t even consider taking hostages.

Except.

Except the entire town was a Shin-Ra town.

Banora, canonically, was a Shin-Ra built town, which means everyone there was basically an employee of the company. No one was safe. Everyone was a threat. And that…

That was how he was raised. And he finally knew the truth—that every moment of his life was touched, controlled by Shin-Ra, all the way down to his very conception. He has never known freedom. He has never known his own identity. And now that very cage was killing him, slowly and painfully, and turning him into something that couldn’t even be recognized as human. He was watching himself rot in the mirror, and it was all because of Shin-Ra’s greed. And as he searched for salvation, he sunk into LOVELESS as he always had, hinging his entire life on Minerva’s Gift because he knew he was dying and that was all he had.

9. And then he died…

10. … but then it turned out LOVELESS was actually kind of a blueprint, and he did meet the Goddess, and he did get reborn without his degradation so he was rewarded for his journey in the end.

So why wasn’t Genesis the main character of the game?

Simple.

His actions challenge the status quo without being about the status quo. It’s a story about revenge. It’s a story about retribution. It’s a story about answering mass violence with mass violence and ultimately being rewarded by it. And while, yes, the series is an action-based violence simulator, the violence in the original FF7 was a guided, tactical effort. (For all that the characters aren’t the brightest bulbs in the sun lamps.) But the biggest, most obvious shift in the narrative happened when they realized their role as terrorists—bringing mass violence to the company via bombing and open aggression—was just resulting in increasing levels of retaliation against uninvolved people. They might as well have been a child beating the ankles of a giant. The goals and themes of the game fundamentally change when they realize that answering mass-scale societal violence with mass-scale physical violence was not only unsustainable, but also wasn’t going to solve their problem.

FF7 is about change and learning when violence—and what kind of violence—is appropriate in the face of different threats.

Genesis’ arc undermines all of that, and making him the main character would contradict the very heart of the OG game.

So, instead, we are positioned as Zack, connected to him through a mutual friend. From there we see all the damage and horror this vengeance brings to those living under the status quo.

But also, that plotline’s a major downer in a lot of ways, so they needed to lighten things up a bit to keep audience involved. And that’s why Zack is, well…

Part Three: Zack is a Himbo

Please, for the love of all that is holy, keep in mind that everything I say here is with the utmost affection.

Zack is dumb as a rock.

He is a charismatic, enthusiastic sixteen year old jock who ran away from home at thirteen years old to join the military. Which, please know, why I say “military” I mean “private security guard force with a standard-issue Death Baton and a license to kill”. The first scene in the game is him being excited that he gets to murder a bunch of people in a simulation, which he is immediately scolded for by his mentor. He is a glorified, souped up private security guard who is canonically only in it for the glory at first. He wants to be a “hero”, but doesn’t seem to fundamentally know what that means. And, over the course of the story, the definition of that clearly changes for him.

Which tracks, because the story takes place over a period of time with high stress.

Occasionally I see people saying they wish that Zack had more complexity to him, and honestly? The game. Would be. SO. BAD.

Full Disclosure: I am not the biggest fan of Zack specifically because he lacks a lot of nuance. I wish he was a bit more complex, too. But I also know that would break the game. What’s worse, if he was still on Shin-Ra’s side because he understood Shin-Ra’s mission… Well… That would make him a villain, or a cog at best. That’s not main character material. It would make the ending more messed up, though.

Anywho, Zack was thirteen when he left home. He had no formal education. He didn’t tell anyone what he was doing. He even joined without a permission slip from his parents. This means that Shin-Ra was accepting thirteen, possibly fourteen year olds into the military. (Some people will say this tracks because you can get a job at fourteen in many parts of Japan. But, and this is important, you aren’t allowed to be a security guard until you’re quite a bit older, and you need a specific license for it, much like in the US.) Clearly they didn’t teach this boy critical thinking skills. Not because he’s a himbo, but because having their Super-Powered Private Security Force With A License To Kill think independently would explicitly go against their interests. (EX: Genesis.)

Shin-Ra needs SOLDIERs to follow orders or the company would no longer be able to function. Seconds and Thirds aren’t even allowed to reject missions. (One could argue that sending certain someone on back-to-back missions would be a good way for them to eliminate undesirables within the ranks by sending them to their deaths, which… would make an incredible fic idea, actually.) We already know that First, Second, and Third Class rank assignments do not actually reflect the power of the SOLDIER. This is canon. I would instead argue that those who make the rank of First Class aren’t necessarily the most powerful, but are instead the most visible in the media, thus the easiest to market, and/or the easiest to manipulate and control. (For a great example of this, see The Umbrella Academy.)

The point is, Zack may have been elevated to his position as a first specifically because he is malleable and single-minded. Even after all he saw with Genesis, he stuck by the company to the very end, with the exception of the time Sephiroth was literally guiding him to fail a mission. Zack allowed himself to take Shin-Ra’s side every time, taking down their enemies and following their orders, preserving his “honor as SOLDIER” as he had been taught. The only thing that made him stop…

… was literally getting put in a jar.

It was when he was no longer a SOLDIER.

Part Four: Honor

There is no such thing as SOLDIER Honor.

I repeat: There is no such thing as SOLDIER Honor.

It is a fictional thing that is borne of an ideology based around hard work. It only has power because it is believed in. It is an intangible social construct similar to the law, mathematical order of operations, and gender roles. So why are Angeal and Zack obsessed with it?

Pretty simple.

Angeal’s step-father followed it.

Now, we know three things about Angeal’s step-father.

1. He was chill with the fact that Gillian was already pregnant when they started dating.

2. He was a very good father.

3. He worked himself to death trying to pay off the sword he bought Angeal.

This, of course, says a lot about Angeal considering he rarely uses the sword. He essentially sees that sword as the symbol of his step-father’s life. Everything he uses it for, he sees as more important than his step-father’s life. That thing is usually Zack.

Zack, who is the child who joined the military based on stories of heroes.

Zack, who rises against Angeal in the name of his own step-father’s ideology and tries to talk him down, even at the very end. But Zack fails because he fundamentally doesn’t understand what’s going on, partially because “Soldier Honor” is just one more aspect of this narrative he was given. It is a narrative that Angeal has had to step away from, even though he doesn’t want to leave the memory of his step-father behind. He was a good man. He was a good, hardworking man.

And that is why he died.

Corporations will use you up until there is nothing left, then honor your memory/sacrifice. Shin-Ra was doing the exact same thing the company his step-father worked for did; using up SOLDIERs until they outlived their usefulness. And Angeal was horrified to realize that his “SOLDIER Honor” wasn’t honor at all.

It was willingly submitting to control.

But, unlike Angeal, over time, this meaning changed for Zack. Partially because he didn't understand it fully in the first place. It became about acting with integrity. It became about helping people. It became about not lying down and watching the abuse Shin-Ra handed out in exchange for literal money; for maintaining the status quo.

At the very end, Zack understood what it meant to be a hero.

Part Five: The Conclusion

To sum up, Zack believed in and idolized the propaganda spread by Shin-Ra at such a young age, and was so convinced by it, that he ran away from home at thirteen to join the military.

He was their target demographic, so they happily took him into their ranks. What’s more, people think this is normal enough that we see no one opposing this, because the only people who oppose Shin-Ra are “extremists” or “violent terrorists”.

Zack then became their loyal puppy, groomed to fill his role as super-powered attack dog to sick on anyone they deemed appropriate, and he filled the role. He believed he was doing good. He didn’t think they were invading another country, because that’s not what he was told.

He went after Genesis, because that’s what he was told, and he wouldn’t let Genesis’ actions shake his faith in the company.

Then he went after Angeal, hoping to get answers, only to become more confused. Angeal taught him about SOLDIER honor. He taught him about a higher calling. He was the one who made Zack truly loyal to the company. This challenged everything Zack knew.

He went with Sephiroth, planning a small rebellion of their own (a white lie on paperwork) to get answers, only to find things he wasn’t ready for and couldn’t fully understand.

Zack is shaken by each of these events. Horribly. At times, we even watch him grieve. But time and time again, he doesn’t leave the company. He sees the damage they do first hand, and he doesn’t leave the company. The company isn’t the problem, to him. He reads their emails, does their dirty work, and “maintains his SOLDIER honor”.

Zack swallows what they give him right up until what they give him is torture.

Zack swallows what they give him until he becomes their victim.

Every step of the way, Zack is fed a story of how the world is. He was raised on it. He lived it. He became part of it. He was paid peanuts to enforce the status quo Shin-Ra installed in the world by force, and he was proud of it because it was, to him, something to be proud of.

Zack believes the propaganda whole-sale, and we get to watch, from the point of view of an outsider, as it slowly destroys his life before killing him.

Propaganda has the power to make suffering normal. Propaganda has the power to make murder righteous. Propaganda has the power to take a thirteen year old boy out of his home so they can give him a sword, and when they point him in the direction of their enemies he charges of his own volition, because they made him believe in their cause. And he believes in their cause because he believes that it makes life better for everyone.

But that’s not what’s actually happening.

That’s just what he was told.

Crisis Core is about propaganda, and the depths to which it can affect our lives. It changes our belief systems. It changes our perceptions of reality. And when it’s torn down around our eyes, it can make us go insane. It can make us violent and unreasonable as we realize just how much violence is being forced upon us—violence other people just plain do not see. It's just a a piece of paper. It's just a law. It's just a job.

It's just a war.

Final Fantasy 7 was about Fascism.

Crisis Core is about the propaganda that built it. It is told from the point of view of a boy, then a man, steeped in it. He watches until the people suffering around him—Sephiroth, Genesis, and Angeal—are twisted into villains by the truths and lies around them. Genesis and Angeal are tortured by truths, Sephiroth is transformed by lies, and Zack is subsequently hunted down to conceal them.

Crisis Core is Propaganda: The Video Game.

[bingbongsupremacy]

Hey I saw your old post asking which fanfics you should do next. I know it didn’t win but could you please please please do “Tell Me You Love Me Again” with Eddie. Im in dire need of some good angst ❤️

Tell Me You Love Me Again

Sorry this took me so long to write! I have had some massive writer's block. Hopefully, this is okay!

Pairing: Rockstar!Eddie Munson x reader

Story Type: Angst

Warning: Y/N use, swearing, Eddie's a bit of a greedy ass ngl

Summary: You've been with Eddie since before he was famous. It used to be a loving relationship. As the years have passed, things have changed. Can you save the dying spark between you?

*Not Proof Read*

□□□□□□□

"Baby, you wanted to talk. Why are we just sitting here in silence?" Eddie asks with a grin. He casually flips through a music magazine, observing all of the new instruments for sale.

I take a deep breath. How do I even start this conversation? He's been so busy launching his band's new line of merch that I doubt this is a great time to talk about our relationship. Who knows when we'll have another opportunity? This is the first time I've been able to see him privately in weeks. I don't know how long I can keep harboring my frustrations.

"We do need to talk...here goes nothing." I sigh. "It's about our relationship."

Eddie pulls his eyes away from his magazine, his smile fading into a serious expression. "What about it?"

"I've been feeling very frustrated lately. I feel like you're never home, and I never get to see you anymore. I miss you." I reply honestly.

Eddie sets the magazine on top of the coffee table that separates us. "I know it's been busy lately, but it's great for us! Now I can take you anywhere you want to go. Name any place, and I can bring you there." Eddie's playful smile returns.

I let out a tired laugh. "Eddie, that's nice and all, but the problem is you don't have the time to take me anywhere I want to go. I just want you to dial it back a bit, please. Spend more time with me, and I'm sure Wayne would love it if you spent some time with him, too."

I'm not even sure if Eddie has time to call Wayne anymore. I might be the only one talking to him regularly.

"I spend plenty of time with Wayne." Eddie's expression is slightly offended.

"It's just the past year; you've rarely been back. Can't you take some time off? Cancel a few tour dates or reschedule some photoshoots?"

"I can't just abandon my career, Y/N. My band has worked so hard for this." Eddie argues. "It wouldn't be fair to the boys."

"What about what's fair to me, Eddie?" I let out a frustrated sigh. "I'm not asking you to abandon anything, Eddie. I just think you should prioritize our relationship a little more. We barely see each other anymore!" My heart pounds. "When you're not on tour, you're constantly doing promotional videos or photoshoots. We haven't gone on a date in almost a month."

My flurry of emotions has caused tears to prick the back of my eyes. Fuck, I can't cry right now.

Eddie's shoulders are tense. His usual animated and playful exterior is replaced with a frustrated and angry one. One I rarely see, especially not when talking to me.

"That's part of the job. I'm a fucking rockstar, Y/N. I can't exactly blow off the world tours and photoshoots. My label and manager expects me to get shit out quickly. You don't understand! The moment I stop making songs and producing new shit, the moment all of this, " He gestures around the room to all of his expensive nicknacks and furniture. "disappears. I'll become irrelevant. My band will become irrelevant. This is my life, Y/N. And you're going to need to learn to accept it."

My frown deepens. "Do you hear yourself? How can you not see how greedy you're becoming? What happened to just loving music? Loving the art of creating, no matter how many people heard. When did this all become about money?" I stand up from my spot on Eddie's couch, needing to put some distance between myself and the man. I avoid making eye contact with him, knowing if I do, I'll burst into tears.

This room suddenly feels so suffocating. "Is this really all you care about? How many shows you can sell out? How deep your pockets can get?"

"For fucks sake, Y/N." Eddie groans as he leans back against his recliner. His head hits the back of the seat, an annoyed expression flashing across his face. "You're being so fucking dramatic."

I shake my head. "This is not what I signed up for. You are not the man I signed up to be with."

Eddie stiffens. Hurt crosses his eyes. His face turns stoic as he looks me dead in the eye. A dark anger replaces his hurt. "Things change. People change. Obviously, I've changed. If you hate me so fucking much, why don't you get the fuck out and find someone new? Someone who better suits your lifestyle since you're not happy with me."

I freeze. My heart drops at his bitter words. He's never spoken to me like this before.

He's so different than the man I fell in love with all those years ago. Life seemed simpler in Hawkins. I'd work the night shift at The Hideout and he'd play with his band. I was able to see him regularly while he was still able to do what he loved. No massive world tours to separate us for months. No partying until early the next day. Just the two of us, supporting each other and doing what we loved.

I feel my cheeks heat from embarrassment and anger. He's right. He's changed, and it's obviously been for the worse. "You know what, you're right."

Eddie's eyes widen slightly in surprise, like he didn't think I'd agree.

"You don't want to work this out like an adult, so I'm going to leave. We're done, Eddie. I can't do this anymore. I deserve someone willing to set aside time for me. I shouldn't be the only one giving 100% to the relationship. I need someone who respects me and what I need. You can't give that to me." I grab my purse from the couch. I pause right before I reach the door. " Eddie, " I turn to look back at the man.

He doesn't meet my gaze. His eyes are trained on his locked hands. He looks like he's in disbelief.

"I hope you find what you're looking for. Just know that you'll never have enough money or fame to please yourself. Materialistic things can only bring you so much happiness. You'll suffer until you realize that. I just hope it isn't too late when you finally do."

With that, I leave the apartment. As soon as the door behind me clicks shut, the tears begin to fall. I lean against the wall near Eddie's door and wrap my arms around myself for some sort of support.

I wish he loved me enough to apologize. I wish he would come out here, tell me he was wrong, and that he was going to try to fix things.

I finally garner the strength to push away from Eddie's wall and make my way downstairs. With every step, I think of new things I wish Eddie would do.

When I take my last step out of the apartment building, disappointment settles in my chest as I realize none of my wishes came true.

Eddie's a rockstar. He'll never love me as much as he loves his lifestyle.

I was stupid to think he'd always be the man I fell in love with in Hawkins, Indiana.

[punkpandapatrixk]

❤️‍🩹I Just Want to be Loved ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card

We attract terrible loves for various reasons; so many lessons; but now sorrow has got to lessen. Let’s reveal patterns by exhuming roots. We’ve got to stop this cycle of disappointments. Done being made to feel as if we’re hard to love.

We’re not hard to love. Many of us were simply denied love, warmth and affection as we were growing up… Don’t know how to love self; don’t know how to love others; basically don’t know how to even receive Love… Who’s to blame now?

Why the hell were so many children denied love, warmth, affection…?

What are you going to do with yourself when you were denied love, warmth and affection as you were growing up?

☆♪°・.

‘The child who isn’t embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth.’ – an African proverb

People denied warmth and affection tend to fall into a desperate loop of fishing for attention as a result of love-deficiency, right? Some learn to lick love off a knife; some pursue success (whatever that means) all too frantically; some…shoot complete strangers in broad daylight; and some who ain’t got the guts to murder complete strangers in public places go instead for antagonising strangers on social media… Gosh, that is desperate.

But you know what, not all hope is lost because there’s still plenty of us who are blessed with this incredibly RARE thing called self-awareness. There are plenty of us who will take our traumas to the graveyard than pass them down the next generations.

You, don’t deserve to have your sanity and your Life ruined by some psychos who didn’t know how to love you. Reclaim lost pieces of yourself by understanding THREE Houses in your natal chart, babe:

4th House: your roots; tells you what was lacking in your home; explains your erratic 10th House ambitions

8th House: your marriage or your desire for a bond like it; this the House where trauma manifests itself in full spectrum

11th House: your wish fulfilment; where you connect with people who support your visions; breeds a healthy sense of connection, even community

SONG: Emptiness by BoA

MOVIE: Breakfast at Tiffany’s (1961)

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 2] [Part 3]

[Patreon] [Paid Readings]

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – Because I Can’t Even Trust Myself

VIBE: Trust by Hamasaki Ayumi

lost pieces (pertaining to 4th House) – Ace of Pentacles Rx

It’s clear your childhood didn’t offer a sense of stability or security—the physical kind that children usually need. It could be that a grownup left early or it could be that you moved around a lot, so you easily lost contact with new friends you’d just made. In essence, it feels like you grew up feeling ‘everything disappears eventually; everyone leaves eventually’.

Some of you might’ve grown up not having a lot of material resources, but for the majority of you tuning into this Pile, it was more a feeling of a lack of warmth. For children, the pain of neglect and a lack of emotional connection do really affect our physical health more severely. You might’ve grown up poor and sickly due to all the grownups around you being inattentive, unaffectionate, and just…unreliable at best.

Because of this awareness, from a young age you realised you would have to do everything yourself. You wanted to grow up quickly and do your own things your own ways. It’s not like you had to grow up fast, you wanted to grow up fast to have your freedom and power! It was…hard to trust adults. It was hard to trust the world at large.

growing pains (pertaining to 8th House) – 8 of Pentacles

On the path of growing up, I think you became a hard worker of sort? This is very nuanced though—there are layers to your developing yourself to become a hardworking person. In many ways, you grew up responsible because you didn’t want to become like the adults who had disappointed you. But since this sense of ‘responsibility’ is a product of neglect and trauma…this is coming off as your feeling responsible for everything. Everything!

Some of you could’ve been too hard on yourself, expecting way too much for your age. You’ve felt like you’re always the one with everything to prove. It’s hard living like that. It feels like you’ve put so much effort into keeping everything together, and yet, nobody sees how much you care. Nobody truly understands the fear in your mind and pain you carry in your heart.

In matters of relationship, you cling extra hard to friends or lovers, too; because deep down you’re afraid of losing things and people, again and again. This unhealthy attachment—and to some extent, controlling behaviour—is truly your wounded inner child attempting frantically to keep your Reality from falling apart…

reclamation (pertaining to 11th House) – 4 of Cups

I’m very sure that at some point in Life, your Higher Self and team of Spirit Guides are going to kick in and meddle with your Earthly business. For some people, it’s possible you could lose contact with everybody you’ve ever known in Life and go into a hermit mode to find yourself again. For some, it could be that your whole Life is simply flipped, without necessarily losing key people in your Life, for you to look at Life and human connections from a very different point of view.

It’s going to be hard, of course. Emotionally, it could be devastating. Themes of abandonment and betrayal are big in your incarnation. But you know, ultimately, all of these challenges serve to remind you that the Cup of Love and Affection you’ve been looking for has always been right inside of you. You’ve had a bitter time with a lot of people because deep down you couldn’t trust them. You couldn’t trust other people’s loyalty because you didn’t even believe that you’re worthy of that Love and Loyalty you yearn for.

Your Spirit Guides are saying, that although at some point in Life things are going to get really tough, know that when you’ve graduated those lessons, you’re going to be rewarded with the most beautiful Soulmate-shit friendships, familyship and relationship. Truth be told, part of your Soul’s scenario in this incarnation is to find your Soul Tribe; and find your Tribe you shall~

A L O N E🔻💗

ALL of you – Red Alchemist (John Dee)

becoming ONE and whole – Priestess of Healing

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – Misled by My Own Compassion

VIBE: Cry Me A River by Julie London

lost pieces (pertaining to 4th House) – Knight of Cups

It’s very likely your 4th House is in a Water sign, but if not, you’re still very much a Water-y person; perhaps your Ascendant or Moon is in a Water sign, or that you have Neptune/Moon near/in your 4th, 7th or 11th House. All of this generally makes you a deeply compassionate person. No matter what outer appearances give, you strive to look deeper into a person’s Soul. You have so much empathy and you want to believe in the good of people.

Alas! This rotten world doesn’t make it too easy. This world is not a world where kindness and compassion are truly rewarded, if we don’t learn to be a tad cruel ourselves. You’re not in the wrong for being so genuinely good and compassionate; it’s this world that’s the wrong world. You know that? Therefore, it is paramount you learn to be a bitchilante! But I’m getting ahead of myself.

In spite of this PAC’s intro, I sense the majority of you tuning into this Pile actually grew up quite well. Many of you actually grew up in loving homes and that’s why it’s been quite challenging for you to grapple with the realness of the ugliness of the world outside of your loving home. Really…people in the real world…are monsters! And you were taken aback!

But some of you instead most likely grew up in chaotic, battlefield-esque homes and that’s why you’ve striven to be so good to a point of detriment.

growing pains (pertaining to 8th House) – 0 The Fool Rx

Be that as it may, you being you… Well, you do put in the effort to try and understand what makes monsters the way that they are, right? It’s all good and wonderful, until you get yourself in deep trouble where nobody can save you but your own monstrosity. Depending on your age when reading this, this could be something that’s happened in the past or will happen; where you will be forced to grow up in the sense of seeing the world as it is and get firm with assholes!

Dr Jordan Peterson has this gold shit to summarise this spiritual lesson you will be taking at some point in Life: ‘You should be a monster, an absolute monster, and then you should learn to control it.’ Well, that’s male speech. In female speech, we just say: ‘you gotta grow up and be a bitchilante!’

Be a bitch only to those who deserve it. How would you protect yourself from monsters if you don’t have the strength to fight them at their own game, darling? If you’re harmless, weak as a fawn, if anything, the real monsters in the world are going to toy with your sanity: ‘I saw my “crazy” side once and decided I wouldn’t be involved with anyone that would take me out of my peace like that ever again.’

Be a bitchilante. That whole concept of ‘good, harmless, love and light, positivity-only’ bullshit was put out there not to really make you good but to weaken you against the truly monstrous ones. WAKE UP, BITCH!

reclamation (pertaining to 11th House) – 4 of Pentacles

So? So what if you’re selective with your affection? Not everybody deserves your compassion. That’s for sure. There are many people in the world and you can’t be nice to all of them. One at point or another, you’re gonna be a villain in someone’s story—so what? Everybody else is the main character of their own Stories; that, you can’t control.

Be careful that you’re not falling victim to your own narcissism in wanting to be praised in everybody’s Story, yeah? So then, pertaining to your 11th House, weirdly enough, your wish fulfilment is in the form of a psychological liberation from your own idea of yourself in the minds of others. I sense that if you’re East Asian this is gonna resonate much harder and louder LOL

Anyway, I want to assure you that once you’ve graduated from your spiritual lessons, you will be met with unique, courageous, rebellious weirdos who will be just as clear as you are about what it truly means to be a good person in a world that’s often very bad. How good should a person be to truly be considered a good person?

‘If I offended you, cry me a river. I’ll bring snacks and a raft. I will literally float down your tears eating chips and working on my tan.’ – Fuckology

A L O N E🔻💚

ALL of you – Green Geographer (Gerardus Mercator)

becoming ONE and whole – Priestess of Success

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – Lights Out; I’m Out to Find Myself

VIBE: To. X by Taeyeon

lost pieces (pertaining to 4th House) – Ace of Cups Rx

I’ve to preface this Pile by saying this the pile that gets a little violent…

You were originally such a positive, happy-go-lucky kid, but quite early on, this world gave you so much darkness. So many reasons to be sad. It’s not been a very kind life, to be honest. Defo many of you have tragical placements here—your 4th or 5th House could start or end in Scorpio; have Lilith/Pluto/Chiron/Saturn there or in the sign of Cancer/Pisces; or it could be that your Venus/Moon is imprisoned in the 8th or 12th House and harshly aspected, too...

If your childhood has been violent or mightily confusing, it’s a group thing, OK? You can think like that. It’s not your fault. Know that practically everybody who has these harsh placements has gone through very similar things as you. So you’re really not the only one who’s failing—whatever that means. You’ve been gaslit a lot into believing there’s something wrong with you, but it was your environment that was just filled with totally terrible Human beings. That much I’d like to assure you.

It wasn’t natural how you were abused psychologically and emotionally. The people around you drew a parallel to Cinderella’s stepsisters in the Disney classic. It’s ridiculous like that. I think you grew up terribly lonely and created comfort characters in your head to console your sorrows? It’s very likely that your comfort characters were in actuality a mirror fragment of your Soul Family’s existence locked in your memory bank.

growing pains (pertaining to 8th House) – XIV Temperance Rx

Life, unfortunately, isn’t a Disney movie. As a result of the psychological and emotional abuse you’ve endured in childhood, your friendships and relationships might’ve been quite turbulent, at times even violent. Juuust a small number of you could’ve dealt with being called a violent kid, or you could’ve struggled with anger management and have terrible tantrums. All of these have made human connections quite difficult to navigate.

It’s not like you want to be a nasty person, right? Many times, you couldn’t help the way you react/respond to what’s being said and unsaid because, somehow, there are many things that people do and say that trigger a trauma response in you. There’s a very difficult Mars thingy going on here. I think many of you resonating with this Pile have some difficult Mars (ruler of Scorpio) placements/aspects that affect the way you manifest human connections in your Life.

Speaking in terms of synastry, it could be that you’ve attracted a great deal of people whose Mars aspected badly in your natal chart—consequently triggering bad traumas and manifesting violent outbursts in your connections. Ultimately though, these negative experiences with other people could’ve enforced your belief about how unlovable you are, which, really, is a false belief…

reclamation (pertaining to 11th House) – 5 of Wands

It is a false Reality that you’re unlovable or unworthy of a healthy relationship. That bullshit was implanted in you through the creation of a harsh environment that caused you a great deal of rage. Of course, you’re accountable for how you behave towards other people, but your foundation was never quite healthy or peaceful or harmonious, so… How about we put it all behind us and focus on healing? After all, it’s not like the people you’ve had a beef with were completely innocent? XP

It's kinda selfish to think like that, but you can depend on your own discernment to distinguish who amongst the people you’ve hurt or had a beef with to apologise to. Remember: sometimes apologies only make you weaker and looking at the unique bullshit astrological placements you were born with… apologising to the wrong fucker would only get you gaslit even more! So, don’t. Don’t apologise for the distress you experienced under other people’s lack of support.

Burn that bridge and detach yourself from that old stinking world. With your sheer willpower, you have it in you to rebuild your own little world of love and peace. After all, those harsh placements you were born with, are you aware of just how much power they bestow you? These placements come with a lot of turbulences but once you graduate your first Saturn Return, they also give you a burst of power unlike any other!

Lights out. Not entertaining aenergies that seek to nip your power at the bud anymore. Burn, baby, burn strong! Burn the whole Tower and find yourself on new lands~!

A L O N E🔻💜

ALL of you – Gold Alchemist (Roger Bacon)

becoming ONE and whole – Priestess of Solitude

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 2] [Part 3]

[Patreon] [Paid Readings]

[lacydaydream]

Letters To My Baby Girl

cw: nothing! just dean being a sweet n sentimental girl dad

estelle yaps: dean my beloved. this is a collection of letters dean would write to his daughter on her birthday! i got this idea from the amazing book Beach Read by emily henry. read it, it will change your life.

wc: 1.3K

Dear baby girl,

Today is the day you made me the happiest man in the world. You’ve got ten tiny toes, two bright eyes, ten perfect fingers, and the cutest little nose I’ve ever seen. And even if you didn’t- even if you had none of those things- you’d still be the most perfect girl to ever exist. No contest.

You fit right in the palm of my hand. When I held you for the first time, when I felt how small and breakable and precious you were, I cried. Didn’t stand a chance.

I knew you were coming. I knew it for months. Uncle Sam and I spent weeks working on your nursery. We had no idea we were signing up for the most important job of our lives- building a space that made your mama smile and still felt cool enough to be ours. So yeah, that’s why you’ve got both Winnie the Pooh stuffed animals and a Zeppelin record hanging on your wall. You’ll understand someday. Or maybe you won’t- but that’s okay, too.

Still, it didn’t feel real until they handed you to me. Not after the long hours of labor. Not after all the words that flew out of your mama’s mouth when things got tough. It was you- pink and new and naked to the world and all its ugliness- that made it hit me. You were something to protect. Someone to protect.

You’re a someone. You’re going to grow into a someone. That blows my mind.

Today is the day you made me a father. Today is the start of the long road where I get to watch you grow into the woman I already know you’ll become. Even now, as I’m writing this and watching you and your mama nap together, it brings me more joy than I know what to do with.

Right now, I know everything about you. You don’t know a thing about me. So I’m writing this for you- a way for you to know who I was before I was just “Dad.”

Hi, I’m Dean Winchester. Your dad. Not that you’ll ever call me anything else.

It’s November 3rd. And today? Today is the best damn day of my life.

・・・・・

My girl,

You’re a year old today.

I’m sitting here thinking about all the adventures we’ve had this year. The hours we spent figuring out what your mama calls “tummy time.” The late nights you and I stayed up, learning the words to the greatest songs ever written. The times you had my back and peed on your uncle- by the way, kid, that was awesome. And your first steps. Your first “Da.”

And all the times I had to leave to fight the monsters in the world.

That part broke my heart. Every single time.

It feels like I missed so much. If I count it up, it’s probably only a month out of your first year. Doesn’t matter. Feels like too much. Feels like I blinked and lost something I can’t get back.

You and your mama are the best gifts this life’s ever handed me. And even though I hate leaving, I take pride in knowing that when I do, it’s to make the world just a little safer for my girls. That’s what keeps me going. That’s what gets me home.

You’ve got my eyes, kid- those big green ones that make me hand over ice cream when your mama’s not looking, and let you babble your way out of naps. But you’ve got her smile. The brightest damn smile I’ve ever seen. Brighter than the sun, no contest. Right now, your hair’s this sandy blonde. Everyone’s betting it’ll turn brown, but me? I kind of hope it stays just like this.

Who am I today?

I’m the hands that help you climb those weird jungle gym contraptions at the park down the road. I’m the guy trying (and probably failing) to get you to eat peas for the first time.

・・・・・

Happy second birthday, kiddo!

You’re getting so tall. And your hair’s darkened up since last year. Your mama says you look like her sister, but me? I think you look like my mother.

I just know she would’ve loved you.

Someday, when you’re older, we’ll take over the kitchen together. We’ll roll up our sleeves and try to make the cherry pie she used to bake for me. Maybe we’ll nail it. Maybe we’ll make a mess of the whole thing. Either way, it’ll be ours.

・・・・・

Today you’re four.

Cas brought you a kitten. Do you remember what you named that white ball of fluff? Lady. Because you and your mama have been watching that Disney movie with the fancy cats-The Aristocats, I think. Doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re growing into your own little person, figuring out how you see the world.

You love pie. You think your mama’s the most beautiful woman on the planet (I agree). You think Uncle Sam should get a haircut (I definitely agree).

And kid, you share better than most grown-ups I know. If we’re sneaking cookies late at night, you’ll march straight down the bunker hall waking everyone up to ask if they want one too. You don’t stand for crap, either. We were at the park this week- some kid was being mean to his little brother, and you walked right over and gave him a piece of your mind. Like a true Winchester.

I’m so damn proud of you. Every single day.

My dad never told me that growing up. So I make sure I tell you every chance I get.

・・・・・

My little princess,

I raised my voice at you for the first time this year. And I’m so damn sorry.

See, that’s what I grew up with. Your granddad- the guy you see in those old pictures- he was a tough man. Ran a tight ship. If me or your uncle messed up, he’d yell loud enough to shake the walls. For hours sometimes.

I promised myself I’d never do that to you. And I broke that promise.

Truth is, kiddo, I was scared out of my mind. Somehow- we’re still not sure how- you got your hands on one of my guns. The second I saw you holding it, my heart just dropped. I’d never felt fear like that before.

I yelled. You dropped it. Nothing bad happened, thank God.

But that night, I cried. Right there in your mama’s arms. We both did.

She told me something I won’t ever forget- kids don’t come with manuals. You get dropped into our lives, and we’re just supposed to figure it out as we go. We make mistakes- sometimes big ones. But we learn, and we get better.

Now every single weapon, even the knives I once thought were fine, is locked up tight. Where they always should’ve been.

I’m here to protect you, kiddo. Always. That’ll never change.

・・・・・

10 years old.

Kid, I can’t believe it. Ten whole years.

Every day you’re growing, learning, testing the limits. You used to fit in the palm of my hand- tucked right against my side in what we used to call the Dean Cave. Guess it’s the Dad Cave now.

I’m sitting here, just thinking about how far we’ve come. You’ve been in my life for a decade. Ten years of the best damn moments I’ve ever had. Ten years of watching you figure this crazy world out- piece by piece, question by question.

You amaze me every single day. The way you think. The way you stand up for what’s right. The way you don’t back down, even when it’s hard. You’ve got more guts and heart than most people twice your size.

I feel like I never say it enough. But, I’m so proud of you kiddo. Always.

Love,

Dad.

divider by muruffin

[evillama666]

“Headcannons”

“Headcannons”

Karl Heisenberg

I started playing re8. It only took me three years to get the game but it only cost twenty bucks! I want to write a fanfic for Heisenberg but I hurt my wrist and can't write so I've just been jotting down headcannons in my free time before I forget them. I have a lot of them so is this going to be messy and unorganized? Yes

Tags: Randomness... There's no specific theme to these, some x reader stuff, contains some NSFW topics. He's a perv after all

Word count: 2445

Look at his cheeks! I just wanna squish 'em!

꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…

First off, in my own little world Ethan does join Karl but not until after he goes through his entire factory and sees how truly strong he is. He's just like "Man fuck this! I don't want to do this shit again." Killing another Lord, I mean. So he joins Heisenberg under one condition: no using Rose. And Heisenberg reluctantly agrees. Also Heisenberg knows how to put her back together so it's a good idea to keep him alive. And let's be real, there's no way he's going to be able to use her powers. She's fucking six months old. What is he going to do? Fucking throw her at Miranda? If Ethan was able to kill her by himself it'd be a lot easier with Karl to help without even using Rose.

Also when the 'curse' is lifted from the village and everyone is set free, the other Lords are able to come back because of their little crystal forms Duke collected. Rose was put in that crystal form so I think that they'd be able to come back because of that. That way everyone can have their favourite characters back :)

Anyway, now that I've got that out of my system, headcannon time!

This first one is actually my Papa's, he's watching me play since he didn't watch the gameplay when it came out. Also he loves that Heisenberg calls Ethan 'Papa'. I think you can piece that one together...

He totally sees Heisenberg as being that 'weird' uncle. I showed him some fanart where Karl is like that and he loved it.

Heisenberg is the kinda guy to let kids try a sip of his alcohol, ask them if they want to smoke, just plain being chaotic, and anything else that just pisses of their parents. Mostly Ethan and Alcina. He's has a love hate relationship with Alcina's daughters. He acts like he hates them, and sometimes he truly does, but he secretly likes them. He just hates their mother.

He stayed in the village after Miranda died. Sure, he hates the 'family', but he wants to learn all the secrets of the village. That's actually based off one of the files I read.

He's a history nerd. He was sheltered from the outside world so he knows nothing but give him the internet and a few highschool textbooks and he learned everything in like a week. He finds everything so interesting. He particularly liked the industrial era.

And modern technology... Oh he loves that. It took him a while to understand the internet. He loves how horny it is. It didn't take him that long to actually learn how to use a phone though. He's a fast learner. However he loves taking them apart so you had to find him a bunch of old ones so he'd stop taking apart his... and yours.

He loves Wallmart. You took him there. He liked specifically the kitchen aisle because he made all the pans float. But when you took him to Home Depot? He had a fucking field day. You two ended up staying there until it closed...

He had to ask who the hell 'Magneto' was because people keep comparing them. Especially that kid that saw him making the pans float in Walmart. That's when he fell in love with the X-Men comics. And got even more excited when you told him there were movies. He may or may not have tried to do experiments based off the comics... He specifically loves Wolverine because 'Hugh Jackman is funny and extremely hot.'

We all know this man is Bi. His voice actor is extremely 'fruity'. There's no way he's straight.

His love language is gift giving! It suits him perfectly. He's always making stuff. He'll make you lots of necklaces out of old gears he doesn't need. He also makes lot's of toys for Rose. (Which all need to be pre-approved by Ethan) He likes to make you jewelry but he'll also make you little inventions. Anything that'll make your life easier.

Oh, you complained about somethin? He's making an invention for that. You were pissed when he took apart your coffee maker but he ended up making a new one that brews the perfect cup everytime. If you ask him for anything, he'll make it for you.

His factory doesn't actually have a kitchen. He just stores all his kitchen appliances in a random room. Also, you have to constantly remind him to eat. You don't allow him to use his excuse "But I'm a Lord. I can go days without eating!"

He only showers once a month... Why would he bathe so often if he's just going to get filthy again?

This man doesn't own a bed. Doesn't even have a bedroom. He's used to going days without sleeping so why need one? But he does have an old, brown sunk in couch that he had to repair a lot of times over the years. It looks uncomfortable as hell but it's actually surprisingly comfortable?

He has random arm chairs and other furniture he picked up off the side off the road scattered along his factory. Though, that couch is his favourite. He'll lay on it while you lay on top of his chest because there isn't actually enough room for the both of you.

So he ends up spending the night at your house a lot since you actually have a bed. But when he's there, he's constantly trying to take apart your stuff. He gets scolded a lot.

He loves pets, but can't have any of his own because his factory isn't safe for one and he already doesn't take care of himself. There's no way he'd have time taking care of a pet. He doesn't want to put the poor thing through that. He's more of a dog person, obviously, but he does like cats. Especially scruffy ones that kinda looks like a small dog. So if you have a pet, he's coming over a lot.

He doesn't like dates. He'd rather you hang out in his factory, or he'll go to your place and have dinner. He does like walks though. Around the village, a park, the beach. But it's at the beach, he's using his powers to find whatever washed up metal. He's actually found some pretty cool stuff. No need to buy one of those expensive ass metal detectors he's like a personal one.

If you fall asleep when you're at his factory, he'll take his coat off and lay it on you. Trenchcoats were originally used as blankets in world war two. You can be doing your own little thing when you're hanging out with him in his factory. He just likes you're company. He's fine with parallel play. He usually stops whatever he's working on when you fall asleep, realizing he should probably call it a night.

This man is touched starved! He loves cuddles! He loves cuddling with you after a long day in the factory. His hair is a weak spot. He loves when it's played with. He's too busy to ever cut it, and he likes it long. Once and a while he'll trim it, a long with cleaning up his beard. He loves when you cup his cheeks in your hands and mess with his beard.

Give this man a beard oil kit and he'll actually take care of his appearance. It's a good gift for him.

He was reluctant to let you braid it but caved in. Now he always lets you play with it whenever. He also loves it being pulled on. Another reason he likes it long.

This man is extremely kinky. He's basically into whatever and will always agree to try whatever you suggest. However he will always respect your boundaries if you don't like something. He might push a little, ask 'are you sure?' but he'll ultimately drop the idea. You can bring it back up again when you feel comfortable though. He's into bdsm. He really likes tying you up. More specifically, using whatever metal is around to bind your wrists.

He makes sex toys. A lot of sex toys. Sometimes it gets boring in the factory and it wasn't like he was ever seeing anyone. His toys are... uh... rather intense. He can handle it being rough.

He's created whole ass machines just for sex. I told you this man is freaky. He can pound that shit for hours. His powers let him go on for a while... That couch along fleshlight he altered has been through a lot...

If he makes a toy for you, he'll cator it to something you like. It's never as rough as his personal toys. He'll make you something like a vibrator that can run for days without dying, and has many more settings than the average one.

He'll steal Alcina's fancy ass candles for wax play. She'll be walking around in her castle and notice one of her candles are missing. She doesn't actually know the real reason Karl steals them. She thinks he's just making her life difficult.

Another way he makes her life difficult is by moving shit, walking through her caste with his muddy boots, eyeing up her maids, and just lingering around until she yells at her.

He definitely likes pulling pranks.

He likes video games. He loves Mortal Kombat. He likes beating the Dimitrescu sisters asses. They get so pissy. But it's nice bonding time with their uncle. It's one of the few times he'll agree to hang out with them. He's memorized all the moves and combos so there's no beating him. Aaron Black is his favourite.

He'll also play Stardew Valley with you even though he hates it. He does the caves for you so you don't die. His little character looks just like him. He doesn't get why you play this game when you can just go in the village and actually farm.

He loves motorcycles! He made a whole custom one from scratch! He's been to a couple queer biker bars a few times.

He looks like a hobo, so people assume he's homeless and give him a few dollars. Especially when he goes to Walmart. The first time he had to ask you why a lady gave him dollar. He was offended when told him 'She probably thought you were homeless' but he couldn't really argue...

He likes metal music. No pun intended. He's even got a couple spiked bracelets. He thinks metal music is nice to work to in his factory. Rob Zombie is his favourite. My Papá agrees with this one!

He'll also listen to Old Mans Poison. Specifically their song "Feed the Machine". I love that song so much and it suits Heisenberg. He'll also listen to German heavy metal.

Any alt people and metalheads need to be careful around him, because if you're wearing a lot of metal, and he activates his powers, you'll be dragged across the room. He usually doesn't mean it but sometimes he'll use that against you just to tease you. If you're wearing any necklaces in general, be careful around him because he will accidentally choke you and won't feel any remorse about it. He'll actually laugh.

He'll attach metal to non-metal objects so he can make them float around. He can control blood. It contains iron in it. I think that's how he's so successful with his soldat.

If someone pissed him off, he'll just kill them with a blood clot. :)

But he also uses that power to patch up Ethan.

He has a lot of self harm scars on his arms. The other scars however, are from messing around in his factory and being tested on. He has depression but, will always deny it but, deep down he knows he has it.

He loves steampunk fashion. Most of the necklaces and gifts he makes are steampunk. He loves any steampunk accessories you get him.

There's nothing that suggests how old Heisenberg was when he was experimented on by Miranda. He did come along after Alcina, who was forty-four when she was experienced on. I think he was around ten when he was taken, making his resentment towards Miranda much, much deeper. This is also based off some fanart of him as a kid which I thought was cute.

His one necklace is a little scale. I totally see him just wearing it to fidget with it. Either tugging on it when it's around his neck or using his powers on it. Same thing with the compass. Using his powers to make the needle spin around.

He's neurodivergent in some way.

He'll start like a hundred different projects but never actually finish them. He'll also get hyper fixated on one project and only do that for days on end or do a bunch of projects based off one topic.

Despite never being hugged, Karl gives the best hugs. Sure he's very stiff and has no idea what to do when it comes to comforting people. You'll have to initiate the hug. It'll take him a moment to actually wrap his arms around you and it'll take a few hugs before he feels comfortable hugging you back.

His touch starts off stiff and awkward before gradually relaxing and he'll wrap you up in his trenchcoat so you feel secure.

Honestly I headcannon that with any character that wears a trenchcoat. I actually have a trenchcoat and it's literally perfect to wrap someone up in a hug with it.

Any relationship, whether it's platonic or romantic needs to go slow for him. Lots of baby steps! Why do I like baby steps with characters so much....

Once someone is close with him, he may let them use his first name.

He will talk your ear off about his inventions. Even if you don't understand, he just needs to get it out. But! He will absolutely love it if you ask questions. And if you're very interested he'll simplify everything down for you so you understand.

He'll have you help him on his inventions that don't pose any threats. He's not gonna risk hurting you so he'll just have you hand him tools and such. It's nice having an extra pair of hands around. He'll explain how the invention works. Ask him questions! He likes that. He's never had anyone to talk about his work with.

He likes when you lightly trace over his scars. Like if you're holding his face in your hands and lightly trace over them with your thumbs. Or when you two are cuddling and you trace over the scars on his chest and abdomen.

꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…

Oki... I think I'm done for now. I can't think of any more. I know I have more though so I might make another one of these.

Now to the part I hate

[urlocalmultigroupfan]

ᴇx ᴘᴛ 3 ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ (이민호)

pairing: lee minho x fem!reader, exes to lovers

summary: based off of ex by stray kids

tags/warnings: angsty, bittersweet, slow heartbreak, quiet pain, two povs, not fully proofread, odd ending kinda?? its stiff feeling

a/n: omg the series is over! not one of my best but this is the first series i actually finished 😭 i have one series in my drafts rn and the ending to its okay im okay as well, so stay tuned everybody!! (this is a scheduled post.)

pt 1 pt 2 pt 3

masterlist!

It’s strange, falling for someone you already loved.

You expected it to feel the same as before, like returning to the comfort of something familiar. Like rereading your favorite book, one you could quote by heart. But this feels different.

It’s quieter. Slower. Like planting something new in soil that once held something else.

This time, you’re not rushing. You’re just… learning.

You begin seeing Minho again. Not every day, and not in the way you used to. But he’s there.

Sometimes it’s coffee after work. You sit across from him and listen to him talk about small things, like the neighbor’s cat or the new ramen shop he discovered. Sometimes it’s late-night calls, when neither of you can sleep, and he reads something off his phone just to hear your laugh.

Sometimes it’s silence. And that’s okay too.

Because now, it’s a silence that feels shared, not empty.

It’s early spring when he asks you to go for a walk. The cold still lingers in the air, sharp against your jacket, but the trees are beginning to bloom.

He walks beside you, close but not quite touching.

Then, out of nowhere, he says it.

“I never stopped loving you.”

You freeze on the sidewalk. The words hang in the space between you, weightless and heavy all at once.

You turn to him. “Why didn’t you tell me that before?”

He looks at you, eyes soft. “Because I thought it’d sound like I was just trying to fix what I ruined.”

“Aren’t you?” you ask.

“Maybe. But I’m not trying to go back,” he says, voice steady. “I just want to try again. This time with the version of us that knows what we’re risking.”

And something in your chest eases.

Not because everything is fixed. But because he finally said the truth out loud.

You end up sitting on a park bench, hands just barely brushing between you.

No grand declarations. No kiss to seal it. Just the quiet understanding of two people who still care, even after everything.

He reaches for your hand slowly.

This time, you don’t pull away.

You let him hold it, like something sacred. Like something he won’t let go of again.

And maybe that’s what healing really looks like. Not forgetting. Not pretending nothing broke. Just choosing to stay anyway.

He walks you home. When you reach your door, he doesn’t ask to come inside.

He just holds your hand a little longer and looks at you in that way he used to, like you’re the only person in the world worth his time.

“So,” you ask with a small smile, “what are we now?”

Minho tilts his head, thinking. Then he gives you that crooked smile you missed so much.

“We’re figuring it out.”

You nod. That’s enough.

For now, it’s enough to be here. To be trying. To be real.

hope yall enjoyed <33

todays playlist...

all in by stray kids, ice on my teeth by ateez, easy by stray kids, rude by magic!, deer hunter by &team, confessions by flo rida, heeseung, jake, and paul russell, on my mama by victoria monet, panic by beomgyu, love scenario by ikon, daydream by enhypen, butter by bts, strategy by twice, so fresh so clean by outkast, best part by giveon and h.e.r, attitude by ive, fri(end)s by v

taglist is open! please comment if you would like to be added <3

@rockstarkkami @sirloncelot-of-bananas @jisunggy @me-on-a-archive @hyunjiiza @highway-143 @hvseunq143 @hyuneskkami

[frostyharbor]

MODERN WARMANCY

INDEX + INTRO

A Wizarding World x Call of Duty crossover simon "ghost" riley x witch!Reader disclaimer: the usual "JK Rowling sucks" and "I don't condone military violence"

When you join the quiet little Office of Magitech Integration at the Ministry of Magic, you're granted a top secret security clearance. It doesn't become relevant until years later, when your boss surprises you with a shocking revelation and the real reason why you were hired:

To create magically modified Muggle weapons to combat the rising Dark Lord Makarov.

There's only one task force mad enough to test such abominations. Their captain strikes you as a bit insane. The two sergeants treat you like a sibling. And the one in the mask? Well, he doesn't really have much to do with you at all.

At least, not at first.

A little adventure, told through snippets and one shots, on mixing magic and modern warfare. Reading the intro for context is recommended, but most other parts should be standalone and can be read out of order. All parts, unless otherwise stated in the chapter, are rated T. tags: crossover au, canon-typical violence, fluff, slice of life, background plot, romance

PARTS

UNBURIED | FAMILIAR | MOBILE HOME | ARTS & ENCHANTMENTS

↓ READ BELOW FOR THE INTRODUCTION ↓

“Welcome to the Office of Magitech Integration.”

“Nothing below an ‘Exceeds Expectations’ on your NEWTS. An Outstanding in Ancient Runes and Magical Theory.”

Bartholomew Thorne pauses, looking up at you over your credentials to give you an approving smile.

You smile back, aiming for cool and unaffected. Inside, your heart is racing. Please, please, please…

He taps another file on his desk. “Led the House E.L.F. project, too?” At your nod, he laughs. “Caused quite the stir at the ministry, that one.”

You remember. Your final two years at Hogwarts had been spent working with a development team on the House Enchanted Labor Familiar, House E.L.F. for short. After four semesters of hard work, a crude yet serviceable machine, equipped with the latest artificial intelligence and an arsenal of housekeeping charms, had been presented to the Ministry. 

Magical Ethics had shaken their heads gravely over the little bot. The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures had immediately submitted a flurry of complaints, stating this overreach in magitech would replace “willing elf labor”. 

Your only support had come from the House Elf Rights Advocates, who had enthusiastically applauded the innovation. But they occupied a corner of the Ministry even smaller than the one you currently sat in, and in the end it hadn’t amounted to much.

Back in the present, Thorne hovers only a brief moment longer over your paperwork before setting it neatly aside.

Folding his hands on the desk, he looks at you directly. “Now, why do you want to join this office?”

It’s a question you’re ready for. “Because I believe that the Muggle world has a lot to offer us, sir.” It’s a dangerous phrase you wouldn’t even think to utter anywhere else in the Ministry. “The Ministry still uses paper airplane memos to send information between departments; Muggles can do it in a second over email.”

You hesitate, and Thorne waves you on with a careless gesture. “We still use quills and parchment–they use pens and paper. If we need information, we have to go to a library—they have everything you could ever possibly need to know stored digitally, where anyone can access it at any time.” You catch your breath. “There is so much that we could do better—faster—if we’re given the chance to develop it.”

“It’s an uphill battle,” he warns gravely. “There’s too much old blood still in the ministry to accept hybrid products.”

“I understand.”

“And what do you bring to the table?”

“I’m smart.” You lift your chin. “I’m smart, I know what I’m doing, and the E.L.F. project gave me the experience to learn what works and what doesn’t. It taught me how to work on a team, too. And,” you force a little extra steel in your voice, letting it harden your tone. “I’m not afraid of a little challenge.”

Thorne’s eyes gleam. He stands and, a little shaky after your declaration, you stand too. 

“Well, then.” He offers his hand out to you and you take it. A flicker of electricity runs up your fingers and into your arm, like an oath seeping into the skin.

“Welcome to the Office of Magitech Integration.”

For an office you had assumed was generally ignored by the Ministry, the OMI is shockingly opulent.

You had been expecting basement-level offices, dim halls, and cramped workspaces. Instead, you walk into a bright and spacious atrium, the glass ceiling charmed to show a sunny blue sky. It’s so masterfully done that you can feel the warmth of the artificial sunlight on your back as you approach the front desk.

The receptionist looks up at you kindly, greeting you by name.

“That’s me,” you confirm, a little surprised. “How did you know?”

“I’ve got your badge here somewhere—it’s got your picture on it. Just a minute.” He shuffles through the stacks of paperwork on his desk. As he looks, more memos materialize in his inbox tray, which chimes a pleasant little melody at the new additions.

“What is that?” You ask, leaning over the desk for a closer look.

“Oh, those? Our Instant Inboxes.” He yanks the new paperwork out of the tray. “Whenever the boss wants to give us something, he just writes our name on it, slides it into his outbox, and—poof!” He laughs a bit sourly. “Now it’s on my desk.”

Now that you think of it, you hadn’t seen one flying piece of paper since you had walked into the office. That old dog, you think. He let me ramble about the Ministry memos and didn’t even mention this once.

“Here we are!” The man exclaims, fishing out your badge from between two files. He dangles it out to you by the lanyard, and you slide it over your head. “Now, Thorne wants you in Experimental Prototyping, but we’re still waiting on a few things to clear with your security clearance. Until then, you’ll be shadowing an officer on the Ethics and Oversight Council.” He laughs when you can’t disguise your grimace fast enough. “I know, boring old lot, aren’t they? But it’s good to learn sometimes what you can’t do before you learn what you can.”

“And,” he gives you a conspiratorial wink, “the atrium’s just for the stuffy officials. The real office is down that hall. I hope you weren’t hoping for peace and quiet.”

“No, sir.”

He waves you on with another laugh.

You walk away, your new badge suddenly heavy around your neck. The blow of being shuffled into Ethics of all places momentarily overshadows all else. You had been itching to get your hands on some tech, to strip it down and put it back together better.

Everyone starts somewhere, you remind yourself. Patience.

It isn’t until you’re halfway down the hall, headed for the door marked EOC, that the other details catch up to you.

Hang on…security clearance?

Much to your surprise, the EOC is much more lenient than the Department of Magical Ethics.

“They’re the real duffers,” one of them grumbles to you over morning tea, a few weeks into your assignment. “We know how to bend the rules a bit.”

You suppose they have to. Even though you’re not working firsthand on any projects, the ones that cross your desk for review are outrageous in nature.

On one memorable occasion, a handler wearing thick dragonhide gloves had brought in a mystery object swaddled in magic-suppressing blankets.

“You’re joking,” you say flatly when the blanket is opened to reveal a keyboard, of all things.

“I wish,” the senior officer says gravely. “It was supposed to motivate the user to work on their projects, but made them obsessed instead. The tester hasn’t slept in three days and had to be pried away.”

She flips the keyboard over, indicating the obvious runes etched into the back. You recognize Dagaz and Inguz. Completion. Goals. Strangely, there’s still a battery compartment.

You point it out. “Funny that they’d leave that if it runs off of magic.”

Together, you open the compartment and shake out the batteries onto the desk. They’re not a brand you recognize.

“Careful!” The senior barks when you automatically reach for one. You pull back your hand, but not before a fingertip brushes the side of one battery. You’re immediately seized with the urge to do something, anything, just as long as you’re doing it—

She performs a diagnostic spell with a graceful arc of her wand, hissing as red sparks fly over the table. “That’s why we didn’t catch it the first time—they snuck the charms in through the bloody batteries, not the keyboard!”

You get a front row seat to the row that ensues between Ethics and Prototyping, fighting the urge to make yourself small when some of the developers’ eyes find you standing behind the senior ethics officer. I’m on your side, you want to say, but at the same time, you understand the EOC’s reasoning.

“Promise me you won’t cut corners, kid,” your mentor seethes when you walk back to her office. “In this line of work, shortcuts get people killed.”

It’s a promise you try to adhere to in the following years.

You officially enter Experimental Prototyping and Development after two months spent shadowing the EOC. 

After the time spent among filing cabinets and old rule books—if you never saw a copy of the Ministry Rules of Experimental Procedures again, you’d die happy—the labs are a breath of fresh air. Fresh being relative; it’s mainly oil, ozone, and a whiff of gunpowder.

If the EOC is willing to bend some rules, the EPD is willing to completely bulldoze them.

“Don’t you worry about those old bags,” one of your new coworkers advises you after you hesitate over the latest project—a Muggle photocopier with the capacity to copy even magical moving pictures. You’re impressed until you notice the flaw—every individual in the picture can walk out of their frame and into the frame of another.

It’s a level of magic you were familiar with from the portraits at Hogwarts, but you didn’t think that it extended to the average photograph.

The original photo had been of an old couple waving, but now, ten copies of the man occupy one frame while ten copies of the woman occupy another. The remaining eight photographs stand empty. 

As you study the picture, one of the men makes eye contact with you and taps on the front of the picture, where glass would be if it were framed. He squints his eyes, leans forward, and breathes in front of him; a tiny cloud of fog appears on the photo. With one tiny finger, he writes two words: SU PLEH.

HELP US.

Blood running cold, you slam the photo facedown on the table.

Your coworker doesn’t even look up. “Gotta push the limits somewhere, or else you get nowhere, right?”

It’s your first real brush with the darker side of development. An eerie, lingering reminder that magic—and its users—doesn’t always play by the rules. But it isn't the last. In fact, it’s nothing compared to what comes later.

Years after the photocopier, when the true reason for your security clearance finally reveals itself, you’ll look back on this moment and think: That was only the beginning.

You’re tinkering with a laptop when a tap on the door breaks your focus.

It’s Thorne. There are a few more wrinkles around his eyes and mouth, and his hair has begun to go gray at the roots, but he more or less looks like the same man that had hired you four years ago.

If it had been anyone else, you'd have dismissed them. But Thorne’s not just your boss—he’s a mentor and a friend. And he wouldn’t interrupt without good reason.

Setting the laptop aside, you wave him in. With a flick of your wand, the pile of blueprints and design schematics cluttering up your extra desk chair banish themselves to a box in the corner of the room. 

He sits, and you follow. He’s not looking at you; he’s eyeing the innards of the laptop currently strewn across your desk. 

When he makes no move to speak, you clear your throat awkwardly.

“How can I help you, sir?”

He glances up sharply as though startled, drumming his fingers on the arm of the chair. 

For a moment, he still doesn’t speak. 

Then: “What do you know about this new Dark Lord?”

It’s a conversation-starter so far out of left field that it hits you like a brick. After gathering your wits, you scramble for some sort of coherent answer. “Er, I…I guess what the Prophet’s been reporting, sir.”

And the Prophet had been reporting very little.

Vladimir Makarov had been a name whispered in the halls of Hogwarts from your sixth year onwards. By the time you graduated, professors had adopted a permanently pinched, worried look. Professor Longbottom, if you recall correctly, had been especially stricken, and was absent from the school more often than not.

Makarov, a young Russian upstart, had been weaving in and out of the shadows since, making headlines one year and becoming virtually invisible for the next two. What baffled the Ministry, according to the Prophet, was that he and his followers didn’t appear to have any sort of manifesto. No cause.

Just chaos.

Thorne smiles grimly. “I’ll get straight to the point. Makarov is a dark wizard, yes. A powerful one. But he’s been working with Muggle fringe groups to extend his reach in their world as well.” He holds up a hand as you open your mouth. “Wait a moment. It gets worse. He’s been working with PMCs—Private Military Companies,” he clarifies, seeing your expression. “These groups are wreaking absolute havoc in the Muggle world.”

After a long pause, he saves the worst blow for last. “We suspect that they have been provided with magically-modified Muggle weaponry.”

The statement hangs in the air between you. Sentient photocopies, manic keyboards…every mishap from over the years pales in comparison.

“The Ministries—ours and the Muggle one—have worked together in the past during times of war. Top secret initiatives, of course. In the years of Grindelwald and Hitler, there were specially-designated hit squads from the DMLE that aided Muggle military operations in undermining the Nazi regime."

You follow the conversation only barely, sitting open-mouthed as Thorne continues.

"During the Muggle Cold War, we had our own spies stationed in the Soviet Union and throughout the Eastern Bloc. They helped the Americans and other NATO-aligned states gather intelligence.”

The implications set your mind in a spiral. “You’re talking about a massive violation of the Statute of Secrecy,” you say slowly. “How on earth did the Minister ever agree to it?”

“Because the right people in the right places recognized that these were conflicts that would affect the entire world, ours included. This wasn’t some petty spat between nations—this was nuclear war, kid.”

Nuclear. The word stabs into your brain like an ice pick. You have vague recollections of learning about it in primary school, remember seeing snatches of it on television (something something weapons of mass destruction), but your time in the Wizarding World has dulled your knowledge on Muggle warfare.

While you’re still thinking, Thorne moves on. “What I’m trying to say is, throughout history, there have been times when Magical Law Enforcement has worked together with the British Muggle army. And it’s looking like that time is coming around again.”

You have a creeping suspicion of what Thorne is getting at. It would violate every ethical rule in the book, but he’s got that hard look in his eye that tells you he’s not really asking. “And what does this have to do with the OMI?”

“If Makarov’s giving his Muggle followers modified weaponry, the Muggle Prime Minister wants his soldiers outfitted with the same.”

The laptop parts on your desk vibrate; a slip of accidental magic on your part. Scooting yourself away from the desk, you take a deep breath and try to control yourself. 

Thorne looks sympathetic but unyielding. “The Prime Minister says that soldiers are being shot to pieces in Kosovo. Some of them young men and women, just in their twenties—”

“Don’t manipulate me!” You interrupt sharply, and the laptop parts give a little jump. “I can read the implications for myself! It doesn’t change the fact that you’re suggesting we experiment in some of the most illegal branches of magic!”

Replacing flying memos with the Instant Inboxes? Harmless. Accidentally turning photographs sentient after putting them through a magical copier? A bit more worrisome, but fixable. 

But modifying a weapon has no other use besides war. Anything you create isn’t going to be used in an office, or to make someone’s life easier at home. It’s going to be used to kill.

“We’re not being asked to go out and kill enemies ourselves. Just…to level the playing field, is all.”

“Is that all?” you snip back, crossing your arms and looking away. You both know better. Just leveling the playing field is the first domino in a long line of consequences. Tip it over and who knows what will happen.

“This is why I hired you.”

The quiet admission makes you look back at your boss, eyes wide. “What?”

“Why I hired you. Why I gave you your security clearance. We always have to be on the lookout for new blood when facing situations like this.” His gaze is direct, unflinching. “You weren’t afraid to push boundaries and said you were willing to face challenges.”

“Challenges aren’t the same as war crimes, sir.”

“In this environment, we can’t always afford to split hairs. If it helps us beat Makarov and protect both the Muggle world and ours, would it be worth it?”

Would it? You think of what he described—poor Muggle soldiers torn to pieces after being ambushed with superior weaponry they couldn’t hope to match on their own. A world in the shadow of a new Dark Lord.

But you think, too, of the little man in the picture. Help us. The unintended consequences of innovation and experimentation. That had been a photo. These new projects would be weapons. Who could say where this path would lead?

Thorne looks at you expectantly, head tilted to the side as he waits for an answer. 

This is why I hired you.

Taking a moment to exhale in through your nose, you let the breath out after holding it for a few seconds. “Alright. Fine.” 

Thorne looks pleased, but you have to resist the urge to bury your face in your hands. “Where do we even start?”

“The beginning is usually the best place,” he says pleasantly, pulling a file out of thin air. He prepared for this, you realize, a bit sour. He knew you would say yes.

The file is slid across your desk, and you open it with no small amount of trepidation. The paperwork that greets you is vastly underwhelming—it’s barely a few pages, most of it redacted.

“Am I supposed to do something with this?”

“They’re a Muggle task force so classified that most of their own government doesn’t even know about them. Get used to the secrecy.” 

Thorne leans in and flips through the pages until he reaches the one he wants, an agreement to the testing of magically-enhanced weapons with four signatures at the bottom. “This is what matters to us. They’ve agreed to be the first soldiers to test whatever we put out for them. We’ll be working with them directly to find what their needs are.”

“And when this is all finished?” You squint at the signatures, trying to make out a name among the loopy scrawls. You see two Johns, and maybe a Kyle. The final name is unrecognizable. “What’s to stop them from using them against us?”

“Can you use magic or not?” Thorne smirks. “You figure it out.”

author notes: got the random idea of Ghost tinkering with a sentient rifle and this was born. It will be updated every Sunday at 7:00AM. Some parts may be standalone, others may not, and all will likely be less than 1K words.

thanks for reading!

[tragedy-of-commons]

ivan x reader. wc: 1.1k. inspired by those fucked up teeth dreams! if you're squeamish, probably avoid reading. don't krill me alnst fandom i just think he's Cool and Interesting. based on vibes, possibly ooc. modern/actor au.

It was unlike Ivan to dream.

Before you came into his life and turned his servitude on its head with no regard for his balance, he was used to sleeping hard. The star would hit the pillow after a grueling but manageable day, only to wake up to his familiar alarm—only to rise and do it all over again.

Such was his life, and he had no reason to believe that’d change. He had no reason to believe he would experience any subconscious projections beyond nebulous memories of the slums, or the occasional object of terror that’d he shortly forget after waking.

But circumstances change. Environments change; Ivan’s home welcomed you, as did the telltale rabbiting of his heart. When you slipped into bed with him that first night, awkward but sweet, he had to bid himself to relax. Actors are supposed to adapt, to transform and flourish under the circumstantial, so that’s what he did. Ivan selfishly held you close to his chest, an indulgence he didn’t want to spoil himself with, but still did so anyway. 

In his mind, to enjoy that guilty pleasure—the privilege of you—he had to do something in return. It’s always about doing something in return with him, every interaction mentally catalogued and carefully executed so Ivan never owed anything to anyone. He learned young that equivalent exchanges rule the world, that every selfless gesture was expected to be repaid in kind. 

And Ivan wanted to do right by you. More than that, he did not wish to be your debtor; Ivan does not have much to give other than his loyalty, which will still someday lose its value. So he savored the moment.

When you’d fallen asleep, putting all of your stock and trust into him, he’d gingerly maneuvered into another position, one far more favorable. He’d rolled over on his side, facing the door to the bedroom. However in doing so, the dark-haired actor had no choice but to untangle himself from you, unable to hold the person he couldn’t yet comfortably call a partner.

He remembers missing your warmth. But ultimately it was better to face the door, to stand guard… to protect you. From what? It’s hard to say, though the heady satisfaction buzzing under his skin affirmed it was the right thing to do. It felt more sustainable to enact some distance in the interest of looking out for you. 

He didn’t want to burn you in the maw of his embrace, even if he sometimes thought about it. To abstain is to be noble. And to torture himself, to deprive himself of love—that is just how things are to go. Ivan is fine with that. 

But then he dreamt, really dreamt, for the first time in years. 

Your steady hands were planted on his shoulders while you looked him square in the eye, unblinking. The vibrant luster of your irises easily reflected the inky dullness of his own, making you seem more like a mirror instead of a three-dimensional being. Uncanny. You didn’t smile like you normally would, only holding him in place. Pain-that-wasn’t-quite-pain began to needle at his gums, and that’s when you spoke.

“They’re hurting you, Ivan,” you’d whispered, grasping his chin with a pinched brow. He was unable to speak as you tapped against his square jaw, rambling with a gentle type of determination. “Rotting… they’re rotting. We need to get them out.”

His dream self was overcome with understanding. His teeth, the ones then beginning to whistle with agony down the nerve, were rotting. The sensation was forceful, like the most miniscule shift of his tongue or the tiniest provocation of his vocal cords could send his molars tumbling out of his mouth by the root. He itched in a way that he couldn’t scratch by his lonesome, with no words at his aid.

(It is true that Ivan’s mouth has always felt too full, a fang or two roguishly protruding outward, but it goes beyond that. When he would smile for each camera shutter, each sponsorship and each recording, it felt more like he was snarling, doling out a cheap imitation of joy when he had no earthly idea of the concept. Always, when the star grinned, it was a lie. Fortunately for him, beasts with pearly whites and uniform eyes can still be domesticated into well-loved pets.)

The room was stark white, a sterile nightmare. While he struggled to think, you’d materialized a pair of rusty, red and black pliers into thin air. Even at the sight of them, Ivan does not remember recoiling. You were going to remove the rot, the miasmic burden—he knew this for a fact. And if anyone were to attempt to fix him, he’d want it to be you. It needed to be you. 

“Do you trust me? You’ll feel better, I promise.”

He could only nod passively as you wrenched open his mouth, probing around and clamping the plier’s metal teeth around any particularly egregious offenders. It hurt, something akin to mercury boiling angrily inside a thermometer, or a kettle reaching its shrill fever pitch. He does not recall screaming or reacting, even as you’d twisted and yanked to your heart’s content. Ivan was allowing you to remove the wretched thorn from his paw, paralyzed from what he could not possibly imagine.

This is how things are to go, he thought. At least you’re the one doing it. If you’re going to hurt someone, let it be me. I’ll take what I can get. 

Your actions were severely disjointed. You’d be pulling one moment, then his central and lateral incisors would be in the palm of your hand the next, not a speck of blood staining the specimens. Then you smiled fully while you made sure he could never smile again. You: merciful, complicated, confusing, and too good for Ivan.  

When he woke, since dreams often end abruptly, it was in a cold sweat. 

“Welcome back to the land of the living,” you laughed. Your hair was mussed from the most gratifying of rests, and your voice was warm, addictive. 

The bedroom door stood wide open, sunlight streamed through the fluttery curtains, and you meandered over to his side of the mattress to greet him. “I made breakfast. How long was that instant pancake mix sitting in your pantry, anyway? Up, up, I put chocolate chips in your share!”

“Good morning to you too,” the star remarked, scrambling to conceal his lingering discomfort. It took a moment for him to recalibrate, to suppress. “And it couldn’t have been there for long. I went shopping with Sua last…”

“Last…?”

“...month.”

You snorted. “My point exactly. Come on!”

Then grabbing his hand and pulling him up (like he wasn’t the one doing all the heavy-lifting), you saw fit to bless him with a kind reminder. You did so in the same tone you always used—sunny and rich—but the words you bestowed upon him next were deeply knowing:

“Just don’t forget to brush your teeth after. You don’t want to get cavities, do you?”

It was unlike Ivan to dream. But then you came along.