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kimnjss · 4 years

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slumber party | pjm

⤑ series: less of you

⤑ pairing: fratboy!jimin x dancer!reader

⤑ genre: angst !! a lil bit of smut.

⤑ rating: explicit

⤑ word count: 10.1K // unedited bc im tired .

⤑ warnings: cursing, dirty talk, slight dry humping, making out at a party, slight exhibitionism kink if you squint, jimin like bites her once i think, handjob, spit, cum licking, jimin sleeps with his hand in her pants to keep warm.

⤑ chapter song: dark side of the moon // lil wayne ft. nicki minaj

⤑ A/N: idk what it is, but i can’t shut up when it comes to loy!jimin // also very important to note that jimin did not invite miju to the slumber party in hopes she’d bring yn ., it was yoongi who asked jimin if he would invite miju . okay!! without any more chit chat e n j o y !! and let me know what you think x

Taehyung is the one to answer the front door moments after Miju excitedly rocked her knuckles against the wood. A furry pooch clutched to his side, decked out in an authentic-looking Hugh Hefner robe complete with the black slippers. Seoyeon is right behind him, slender arms wrapped around his torso as she pouts for his attention.

He pays her no mind, pushing a boxy grin onto his face as he stares between you and your best friend. “Miju! You look great,” She does, so you understand the blatant why he checks her out as the two of you move to enter the house.

Of course, Miju wanted to go all out for tonight. Totally convinced that this night would change everything for her and Jimin. That there was no way he wouldn't fall for her with her after the night of warm closeness and scary movies. No doubt, he'd be inviting her to spend the night in his room... some signature thing that always seemed to happen at these lingerie parties.

You had decided to call it what it was. Branded as a huge slumber party, where everyone could sit around and watch movies, eat snacks, and relax – but you weren't an idiot. Nobody was going to pay attention to the flicks on the screen and there was no way anyone would relax. Not with dozens upon dozens of college girls prancing around in their nighties.

It took all of your efforts... and energy, to convince Miju that buying an all lace negligee was definitely not the way to approach this situation. Words slightly fueled by the bit of fear that Jimin might actually like the way she looked in the thin fabric, instantly pushing the thought to the back of your mind. It was for her own good, not jealousy that you were steering her away from the lingerie aisle.

After quite a bit of debate (multiple interruptions of random messages lighting up your phone from Jimin), she was deciding on a set the both of you could agree on. Excitement clouding her features as she held up the matching pair, insisting that you bought it so you could be twins. You were agreeing, no hesitation needed. Not even bothering to actually look at the thing, just ready to make her as happy as possible. That was the guilt gnawing at your chest.

Which was exactly why you were back in this sleazy living room, freezing your ass off (literally) once again. Despite the set being made completely of velvet, the shorts were so incredibly short that you wondered if maybe you had picked up the wrong size – cropped tank allowing a chill on your midriff.

You could already feel the stares from the guys sprawled around the room, granted to both you and your best friend. Miju, though, acted as if she didn't notice... reaching back to find your hand – she's gently tugging you forward.

“Jimin said to meet him in the den,” Ignoring the way your heart drops at the mention of his name, you just nod. Following behind her, all while reminding yourself that seeing him wasn't going to change anything. That you could easily stick to your guns, no matter how many times he flashed that pretty crooked smile.

The fact that he and his little friends felt the need to seclude themselves... when the party they were hosting wasn't even all that big, had you rolling your eyes. Just from a quick glance, there were no more than ten people in their living room – half of which you were sure lived there, or spent so much time around that they knew where everything was.

Despite it not being real crowded... or loud out in the living room, Taehyung was the only one sat mingling with the group of guests. And you had a feeling that it had a lot to do with the fact Seoyeon didn't want to ditch her friends to sneak into his room just yet.

Just like Miju had said, Jimin was in the den along with Yoongi and Joon. A pretty girl with long dyed red hair sat upon Joon's lap, fingers raking through his hair. She had definitely gotten the lingerie memo, see-through lace covering her 'valued' bits, a lace robe draped over her shoulders.

Yoongi laid sideways on the armchair, scrolling through his phone with a bag of chips on his stomach. You watch the crumbs tumble from the bag and onto the floor as he lifts his body to a seated position, smiling eyes meeting Miju. “You made it,” Jimin's eyes shift behind him, nosily peaking to see who Yoongi was speaking with.

The grin that takes over his features has liquid fire instantly cruising through your veins, cheeks darkening as you easily place the look he's pining you with as the same look he gave you with his head between your legs. Jimin's standing, pushing a hand through his dark locks despite them already being swept back.

He looks good, annoyingly so. Hair carefully styled to reveal his dark eyebrows and oddly attractive forehead. A pair of wide-rimmed circular glasses perched at the tip of his nose. You can't help but notice how perfectly the black and white pinstripe robe outlines his lean body, it's left open to reveal the white t-shirt he wears underneath, the black sweats hanging off his hips.

Those hips... you remember how they felt pressed against yours. Legs wrapped around his waist, holding him tight against you. He had been so hard against your pussy, could feel every ridge and curve of his length. A shame that you didn't get to feel him stretch you out, cum around his thick cock. Yet, you don't think you'd trade the feeling of those fingers for anything. He definitely knew what he was doing in that department.

It takes a moment for you to realize that you're staring and Jimin is glancing at you, curiosity riddling his features. Had he just said something? Were you really that zoned out that you didn't hear him talking directly to you... standing right in your face? Was this what you've really become? How disgusting.

“What?”

A smirk plays on his lips, ignoring the obvious attitude on your tongue. Jimin's eyebrow arches, eyes slowly trailing over the curves of your body, the image of what you looked like underneath him, screaming his name... is instantly clouding his thoughts. “I didn't say a thing,” He speaks slowly, eyes taking their time to find your face again.

“Quit staring at me,” You mumble as you move to pass him, following the path Miju had but instead of taking the seat on the too small seat beside Yoongi, you're plopping down beside Joon and his girl for the evening.

Instantly, she's pulling her face from the crook of his neck. Lipstick smeared as she shoots you a squinted eyed glare. Warning in her eyes, feeling as if you had gotten too close to what she had claimed as hers. You're lifting your hands in mock defense, “Not interested,” She rolls her heavily shadowed eyes, before burying her face again.

Joon is turning to look at you the best he can with his human-sized leech, arm extended offering of a knuckle tap. You knock your fingers against his slightly, “Didn't think I'd ever see you again, what's up?”

Simply shrugging your shoulders, you decide that's response enough. Convinced that Jimin had informed his entire friend circle of what took place in his bedroom. Although, he didn't seem like the type... at least, not with you. But a guy was a guy, no matter how you sliced it.

“You want to choose the movie, Miju?” Jimin's offering up just as Taehyung comes tumbling into the room. Seoyeon two steps behind him, arms linked with two girls that you could only assume were apart of her 'clique'. Hoonie is behind them, fingers toying with the ends of one of the girl's ponytail.

Miju nods at Jimin's words, hopping up instantly to follow him to the array of movies that he had assorted on a bookshelf. It's hard not to stare as the two of them talk quietly in front of the shelf, searching through the names and laughing while they quote bits from movies they've both seen.

Not even standing there for more than seven minutes... you definitely did not count, but you see it all. Can't take your eyes off of them as she laughs at whatever funny thing he's saying, leaning into him as she speaks – batting her eyelashes up at him. He's smiling so brightly down at her, genuine. And you feel sick to the stomach, hate the feeling as soon as you recognize it. But you can't get yourself to look away, even though you feel Taehyung watching you watching them from the spot he chose on the floor, you can't get yourself to look away.

They're coming back with the movie picked hanging from the tips of Miju's manicured fingers. She's moving to pop it into the DVD player as Jimin goes to turn off the lights. It's Zombieland, a movie that you know for a fact Miju hated the first time you saw it together. She's still all smiley as she takes her place beside Yoongi on the couch.

You're so focused on them and the way he seems to curl inside of himself with her so close, yet, at the same time attempt to move closer to her without it being obvious. So focused that you don't notice Taehyung lifting from the floor and taking Jimin's original spot, Seoyeon in his lap.

Don't notice Jimin make a beeline to the vacant spot beside you on the couch, not until there's warmth against your thigh and you're being engulfed with the strong scent of cinnamon.

It's not until halfway through the movie do you notice the shift... in everyone that's littered around the too small den. Hoonie's got his hand around the ponytail girl's shoulders, tips of his fingers tracing the lace at the top of her bra while the other girl tries to scoot closer, feigning for attention.

Seoyeon's head tilted back, eyes squeezed shut as Tae draws intricate patterns on the warm skin of her neck with his tongue. A large hand gripped on her bottom, holding her still on his lap – which is absolutely useless because the girl is squirming.

Joon and that girl have been on the verge of fucking since before you even entered the room, so it's no wonder that she has her hand down the front of his pants. She's trying to be discreet, but he doesn't hide the groans that fall from his lips. If you didn't know any better, you'd say he was practicing for a porno with how loud he was being.

There's a nervous tap of Yoongi's foot, his fingers twitching at his sides as he tries his hardest to keep his focus on the movie. Only half listening to the commentary coming from Miju beside him, who seems oblivious to the beginning stages of a parted orgy happening all around her.

It's Jimin who strikes your interest the most... yes for obvious reasons, but also for how quiet he has been since he sat next to you. Long legs crossed under his butt, eyes trained on the giant TV upfront, not a single glance sent in your direction. Not once. Not even a little sneaky one paired with that annoying smirk.

You can't help but wonder... wish that you could peak into his mind. A quick glance at his thoughts... were you in them?

All of a sudden he's standing, adjusting the robe on his body. He's making his way to the door without a word. Miju's eyes flicker to the movement, watching him walk out and you can't help the silent prayer that she doesn't follow after him. She doesn't, just brings her stare back to the screen.

You give it a good five minutes before you're standing from your spot, convincing yourself you're only leaving in search of something to drink. It's exactly what you mumble to Joon (who couldn't care less, to be completely honest) as you move to exit the room. The kitchen is just across from the den and that's exactly where you're heading... to get some water... but then you're eyes are catching the movement to your right.

Of course, it's Jimin. He's exiting the bathroom, drying the palms of his hands on his dark bottoms. Pining you with a wide-eyed expression that's slowly morphing into a smirk and waking up your heart. With a drag of his tongue on his plump lower lip, he's shifting his weight onto one foot. “You followed me?” He's assuming, ever so cocky and annoying.

Instantly, you're rolling your eyes, scoffing at his words before moving to walk ahead of him. “I just came to get a drink.” He's hot on your tail, so close that you can feel the warmth of his body against your chilled skin.

“There's drinks in there. Snacks too.” He's pointing out with a grin, which you ignore completely; entering the rest of the way into the kitchen. The party has picked up since you first arrived, very different from what was going on in the quiet lust ridden den. There's music playing out here, people drinking, laughing loudly amongst each other. All in pajamas.

Now you're understanding their desire to seclude themselves from the rest of the party. Obviously, it was just a thing that they did. Branded as a fun time where you could party in your pajamas, but the inner circle? The people inside of that den right now about to give a new meaning to pillow fight, yeah – that's what this party was really for.

Is that why he had invited Miju? Wanted to have her a part of his little inner circle? But you had come along and ruined his plans. Was that why he wasn't talking to you before in there? Pissed off that you showed up?

“I didn't get a chance to tell you how pretty you look in your pajamas,” His voice is soft even though he's standing right behind you. Eyes scanning over the various drinks that are displayed on the table, looking for something... anything nonalcoholic. Just barely registering his words, you nod your head. “They're the same as Miju's.” You point out, smiling triumphantly to yourself when you locate a water bottle hidden in the far back.

“I noticed. The two of you are really best friends, huh?” He's closer than you think when you turn around. Body instantly caged between his and the counter. Time seems to freeze as your eyes catch his wide ones, water bottle clutched in your palms as you stare at him. Butterflies waking up in your stomach as he stares right back, dark eyes searching your features.

You're forcing yourself to shake it off, straightening your back and clearing your throat. That just there? That was nothing. Not a moment. Not a discovery. Nothing. Feigning nonchalance, you're answering his question.

“Yeah, since we were six. Which is why-” Ready to reject him again. Knowing all too well what that look in his eye meant. Too familiar with the heat pooling between your legs, just from being this close to him; just from him looking at you like he was literally holding back from devouring you right here against the counter.

He's interrupting you before you can finish your sentence, though. “I know,” Rolling those pretty eyes of his and you don't miss the annoyance in his tone. “...we can't, but I want to.” A slight whine mixed in his tone, his head lowering slightly while his body moves closer against yours.

He hasn't touched you yet, despite how much you want him to. Just entered your space until he was clouding your senses. Knew exactly what he was doing, because you couldn't think when he was this close, teeth worrying his plump lower lip and you want nothing more to replace them with your own.

“Push me away,” Jimin's whispering now, faces mere inches apart that there's no reason for him to speak any louder. It's a gruff tone that has your pussy clenching around absolutely nothing. He waits, giving you a moment to think it over – figure out your next move. But you don't move, you stare at him – waiting for him, challenging him.

A smirk spreads across his lips, caught only for a minute before he's closing the rest of the space between you, molding his lips onto yours. The desperate groan that falls from his mouth is urging you on, hand wet with condensation, you're lifting it to place at the back of his neck – pulling him closer to you.

Faintly, you remember his words from the other night. How he let slip that he could kiss you all night. Right now, at this moment, you found yourself agreeing with him. Not seeing yourself getting enough of the feeling that enveloped your body just from having his lips on yours.

His thick tongue is pushing its way past your lips, fingers gripped against the counter while he moves his body toward you. Even through the layers, your body is still reacting to having his chest pressed against yours. Nipples pebbling underneath the velvety fabric. And all you can think is you want more. Every last thought falling from your head as you drop the bottle onto the floor, fingers curling into the waistband of his sweats to pull his hips against yours.

“Mmh, you eager baby?” The words are mumbled against your lips, a giggle leaving your lips with a nod of your head. Hand on his neck pulling him closer, you kiss him again rougher this time. Needier. Jimin is thrusting his hips forward and you feel his half hard cock press against your thigh.

“What do you want?” His hands are dropping to your hips, easily lifting your body onto the counter. Bottles and cups clatter onto their sides, but he pays them no mind; simply moving to stand between your legs.

It's mindless, the way your legs wrap around his hips so you're able to pull him close. Fingers knitted in his hair and head drawn back to give his plump lips as much room as they need to roam your heated skin. “You want me to fuck you? Right here on the counter where anyone can walk in?” He's biting into your skin, pulling a breathy gasp from your lips. His words are getting to you, your imagination running wild with the picture he paints.

Hips rolling up into yours, you're not hesitating with meeting his thrust. It feels so good that you don't bother to mask your moans either, instead allow your hips to take on a mind of their own. Thighs tightening around his hips in an attempt to feel more of him.

“You want me to? You're so fucking dirty...” He's panting, trying to keep it together – but it's hard with the way you look right now. Uninhibited, needy just for him. Nipples creating peaks against the soft fabric, it takes all his willpower not to lean down and wrap his lips around them. He's just about to let go and do it when he's catching the crack of the door behind you.

Jimin's quick with the way he slides your body from the counter, gently pushing you toward the fridge as he busies himself with picking up the bottles you had knocked over. A 'what the fuck' is on the tip of your tongue, but you're words are being cut by the sound of the voice.

“Minmin? Are you not watching the movie anymore?” It's Miju, naturally pouty lips directed at Jimin. Your eyes are wide, discreetly trying to adjust your shorts that seemed to have ridden up. Heart beating a mile a minute and cheeks flushed, you're glad she's all the way on the other side of the room. And paying like zero attention to you.

Jimin's head bobs at her words, reaching for a farther bottle that was moments from rolling off the table and shattering. “Yeah. I just went to the bathroom and wanted to clean up a bit.” She's nodding her head, tilting to the side and finally noticing you. Her brows furrow slightly. “You left too?”

Back straightening, you're clearing your throat. An arm wrapping around your chest to cover your pert nipples as you push a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah, I... uh, I came out for some water.”

“Oh! There's drinks in there, you know? Minmin set them all up,” She's looking up at him with glowing eyes, and he smiles at her compliment. “Not cold ones,” He's pointing out and you're nodding, in agreement.

“Yeah... I wanted cold water,”

Miju is nodding, no longer interested in the topic. “Okay. Well, hurry! It's almost finished,” Your nod matches Jimin's and she's smiling wide before turning and heading back into the room, pulling the door closed behind her.

Jimin is turning to you the moment she's out of earshot, apologetic eyes searching the stoic features of your face. “I'm so sorry, Yn. I shouldn't have-,” You're stopping him with a shake of your head, lips tucked into your mouth. Leaning down, you pick out the dropped bottle, not sparing him a glance as you pass him to join the loud party.

Should've done this in the first place, you needed to keep your distance. It was too hard to control yourself around him and you were only making things worse thinking that you could. It'd be easy, just stay away... erase all thoughts of him. Keep yourself from replaying the way he kissed you, touched you, talked to you. How he seemed to know exactly what you liked.

Forget how your stupid heart never seemed to shut up when he was close, those simpleminded butterflies flapping their stupid wings every time he smiled at you. You could just shake all of that off.

It would be easy.

The rest of the night is spent like that. Careful to keep your distance, instead halfheartedly mingling with the crowd of party-goers. Mainly sticking to the familiar faces from around campus, who grin with an offer alcoholic beverages and a step closer to wiping your mind of all things Jimin.

It's not long before you start to feel good, the sway in your steps becoming natural as the people around you become funnier. More interesting. Entertaining. Conversation coming easily as you delve deeper into the lives of your nameless classmates. Convinced you could keep up with this until you were feeling tired enough to crash. Before you knew it, it would be the next morning and you could pack it up and go home scratch free.

That was what you thought. What you hoped. Didn't take into account that the crowd would dwindle down as the night went on. And you definitely didn't expect the 'inner circle' to emerge from the den at all until morning. But as the living room started to slowly clear out, they began to appear one by one.

Hoonie is first, the girl that had been trying to get his attention tucked underneath his arm as he leads her upstairs. The shorts he wears sag low and you wonder if that was something that happened during the movie. A large hand placed on her bare ass used as an excuse to guide her into his room.

You sit on the couch, nursing your third fill of spike pink lemonade staring at the door. Silently hoping that Jimin doesn't come out, that he's fallen asleep sometime in the two and a half hours that you were out of there. Or if he does come out, he's coming out with Miju on his arm – ready to spend the night with her and you'd have no choice but to deal with it.

Yoongi is leaving the room twenty minutes after Hoonie wearing his signature annoyed expression. Hands shoved deep into the pockets of his sweatpants, he doesn't spare you a glance (you're not even sure he knows you're sitting right there) as he makes his way up the steps and into his room, pushing the door closed.

Then it's Taehyung ten minutes after that. Seoyeon wrapped around him like a koala, head buried in his neck. He doesn't head to his room as you expect, instead, he's making a beeline to the kitchen, setting her down on the counter. The same counter Jimin had you on, ready to 'fuck you where anyone can walk in'. They giggled amongst each other, sharing quiet words as he fixes drinks for both of them. Drinks you're sure they don't need what with the drunk in love expression written all over that girl's face.

Miju is exiting with the Ponytail Girl, her eyes finding you instantly. She smiles big, lifting both of her hands to wave as they make their way over. “This was where you were? How come you didn't come back in?” She's plopping beside you on the couch, tugging her new friend to sit down beside her.

“I saw some friends from class, figured I'd chat for a bit,” You lie. Miju is laughing at your words, head tilting to the side slightly. “You hate chatting. And as far as I know, everyone in your classes,” She eyes you suspiciously, big eyes searching your features for any sign of abnormality. You keep your expression stoic, silent prayers sent that she doesn't pick up on your inner turmoil.

But then, she gives up. Deciding it's easier to just ask rather than try to read you herself. “You're not mad, right? That I dragged you along tonight.” With a shake of your head, you're pushing a bright smile onto your face.

“No, not at all. I had a good time,” She smiles wide at your words, hopping up from the couch and pulling Ponytail up. “This is Yuri, by the way. They're setting up tents outside and she invited me to share, you want to come?” Huh, so that's where everyone was heading.

You couldn't help but admire how well these boys seemed to pay attention to detail. To host a giant slumber party and not want dozens of drunk half adults sprawled around your house, simply have tents ready to be set up so they can all crash there. If Miju was heading out to the tents, though... did that mean nothing happened with Jimin?

“I'll catch up. Gonna finish my drink and enjoy the music.” Miju nods happily, linking arms with Yuri before the both of them are basically skipping out back. You want to wonder about Jimin, ready to try and figure out why nothing happened between him Miju but your thoughts are quickly interrupted by a deep voice.

“You're not coming in?” It's Taehyung. Holding two cups in his hand, eyes following Seoyeon as she makes her way back into the den. Brow furrowing and head tilting to the side, you're sure you look like the epitome of confusion. He's rolling his dark eyes at you, blowing out a thick huff of air. “Joon's girl passed out. So it's just me, him, Min and Yeonie. You're just gonna sit there all night?”

He waits a good two seconds before his patience is snapping, shifting the cups so he's holding them by the top between the long fingers of his right hand. Taehyung reaches for your wrist in his now free hand, lifting you from the couch and pulling you toward the den. “You're one of the cool kids now, act like it.” He's quoting a song... or a movie, you can't quite place it but you're sure you've heard those words before.

Jimin is scowling at his phone when you enter, thumb tapping rhythmically against the screen. He's sat cross legged on the couch beside the passed out redhead, Joonie on the other side of her annoyance creasing his brow. Taehyung is dropping your hand to slip into the vacant space beside Seoyeon, lifting her onto his lap after handing her the drink.

There's a twitch in Jimin's brow, it's subtle but you see it. His eyes lifting from the screen to find you. Those plump lips of his spreading into a soft smile at the sight of you. The scowl disappearing from his features and you can't help but wonder if he had missed you in the few hours that you were away.

But, you're instantly pushing the thought from your head – complete with an actual shake of the head. Can't think like that, not when Miju was so hopeful when it came to him. Not interested in being a shitty friend and the more time you spent around him, the shitter he got. So despite, being pulled in the room and the heart pattering feeling you got from the way he looked at you, you're passing him. Walking all the way to the sliding doors that lead to the balcony, prepared to just spend time out here until you were tired enough to go find Miju.

It's colder than you expect, your bare arms and legs taking a big hit. But it's bearable. You can see the moon perfectly from where you stand, full and bright. Illuminating the figures of the people just below with their tents. You can faintly hear their laughter, conversations mixed it sounds like constant chatter.

How fun it would be to share a tent with Miju without this guilt gnawing in your chest. No doubt, she'd make a fuss about having to sleep on the grass – completely disregarding the sleeping bag as a suitable barrier. Freak out about the loud noises that she would be so certain was a bear. She was always funny like that, prepared for impending doom but unequipped to do anything about it.

It would've been fun.

No matter how hard you tried, it was hard to act normal around her since that night. As if you knew you had wronged her and felt you didn't deserve to be in on her friendship after that betrayal. She acted the same around you, though, hardly noticing your shift... you weren't sure if that made things better or worse.

You're not sure how much time passes with you just standing out there, sipping your drink. Ignoring the chill that runs down your spine with every gust of wind. Concentration on the shining moon above as you let your mind wander. Not fighting it when you begin to wonder what it would be like if you had met Jimin first. You'll just blame it on the alcohol muddling your thoughts later.

Suddenly, your senses are being clouded with silky warm cinnamon. There's a bump against your shoulder, “Namjoon won't shut up about how tight your ass looks in those shorts,” Jimin grumbles. He had taken his robe off to drape over your shoulders. He doesn't even look real in the light of the moon, as if you had conjured him with your thoughts.

Skin glowing, despite how annoyed he looked. Lips looking as soft and plush as ever, even if he insisted on keeping them pursed in his angry little pout. His eyes sparkled a hint of fire mixed in his stare. Overwhelmed with the need to tease him, a smirk is playing on your lips.

“Oh yeah? Why don't you tell him to come do something about it, then.” Hands tugging the robe tighter around your body, you watch as his scowl deepens. “Don't upset me,” He grumbles, all but growling and you don't even bother to stop the laugh that falls from your lips.

Jimin looks away at you, squinted eyes glaring at the moon above. He's leaning against the railing close enough that you're shoulders touch, but he pays you no mind. “I'm not interested in Namjoon,” You speak, even though it's none of his business. Unsure why you share that piece of information considering you owed him zero explanation.

His gaze slowly shifts to you but you don't look at him, convinced that you don't care how he reacts to your words. Instead, you continue to watch the moon. The two of you stand there or a while, shoulder to shoulder, both staring but for different reasons... with different feelings.

His robe is warm around you, a welcome feeling because you were sure your thighs were about to turn blue from the cold. It smells like him too, cinnamon. It takes all of your willpower not to lean down and inhale the damn thing. God, you really needed to get a grip when it came to this guy.

“You like it?” His words catch you off guard, wide eyes finding him. Had he heard you? Well, of course not you weren't speaking out loud... right? Could he read your mind? Did he know that you were creepily trying to figure out ways to sneak sniffs of his robe without him realizing?

“Like what?” You ask carefully. His lips lift into a full teeth grin, his gaze shifting from you to the sky. “The moon.” Jimin leans into you as he points and you know he does it as an excuse to touch you. You don't mind it. “You've been staring at it for a while...”

Relaxing, you nod your head. A small smile spreading across your lips, head lifting to admire the shine. “I like to look at it sometimes, send my wishes up there and hopefully they'll come true,”

“What do you wish for?” He's asking as soon as you're finished your sentence, looking genuinely interested.

You shrug, teeth worrying your lower lip as he looks at you. Waiting. Interested. “I wish for everything... health, contentment... to not fail,” Cheeks darkening slightly at your words, you act like it doesn't affect you. Never told anyone that you sent hopeful wishes up to the night sky and counted on them. Words just seemed to flow so easily when you were with Jimin, though.

It's the way he looks at you. How he always looks at you as if he just discovered his very own moon. Prepared to jump through hoops, endure your constant rejection if it meant he'd soon enough be able to break through. Be granted a few moments of your pretty smile, hear that laugh... and maybe, have you look at him the same way. Not willing to share you with anyone else, had half the mind to whisk you away so he could keep you.

Not like you'd complain, belonging to Jimin and only him. Certain that there wasn't a single person that made you feel the way that he did. He must have the on switch to your heart, it only seemed to malfunction when he was around. When he smiled. Kissed you. Coated with sexual tension, you were sure your feelings were more than just that. They were real. He felt real.

“I know what I'd wish for,” Eyes dropping from the sky down to you. A bit closer now, but not crossing the line. Just doing enough that left you no choice but to make the next move, leaving the final decision up to you like he always did.

“What's that?” Prolonging the conversation and staying still. Forcing your urges to stay at bay, keeping your arms wrapped around your chest. If not, you know they'd be finding the warmth of his neck to pull him into you. To feel those lips you couldn't get enough of again, and again, and again.

The grin that spreads across his lips stills your pounding heart. Dimple poking out in its usual spot, corners of his eyes lifting just slightly. “I won't tell you,” His smile widens at the end of his words and you feel your lips curling up too. “If I did, then it wouldn't come true... I really want it to come true,”

Eyes rolling, you're taking two big steps away from him. “I told you my wishes,” You mumble. Jimin laughs, arm reaching out to tug on the fabric of his robe, pulling your body against his again. His arm wraps around your waist to hold you in place, the tips of his fingers gently brushing against your exposed belly.

“Relax. I'll tell you when it comes true,”

There must be some magnetic pull because your head is finding his shoulder easily. Finding comfort in having him so close. You feel his stare but refuse to return it. Just allow him to watch you watch the moon. Enjoying the comfortable silence that falls upon you two, the warmth that spreads throughout your body from the stroke of his fingers.

“You're not cold? You don't want to go in?” Jimin's asking as moments pass. You're shaking your head, despite the shiver that shakes your body seemingly on command. He laughs softly, easily pulling your body to stand in front of him. Arms secured around your waist in a back hug, aim to share some of his warmth with you.

You're leaning back into him, hands dropping down to hold onto his wrists. His chin rests on the top of your head, gaze following yours. “You really liked it that much?”

“I could stare at it all night,” You're admitting. His hands are moving underneath your grasp, just enough so he's able to take hold of your hand, lacing your fingers with his. “I'd give it to you, so you could.” That. That has your heart doing cartwheels behind your rib cage. Butterflies flapping so hard that you're afraid they might burst out to kiss him.

Laughing it off, you urge yourself to relax. Burying the icky lovey dove-y feeling he seemed to carry around with him. “What you gonna do? Toss a rope up there and yank it down?” Tone teasing, in hopes, to shift the overly romantic moment in a different direction.

He doesn't take the hint, ignoring it completely. Pulling your body tighter against his, you can hear the smile in his voice. “If you asked me to, I'd try.”

This has you pulling away from him completely, overwhelmed with the need to be close to him – which results in you not wanting to be close at all. “Stop saying corny things to me,” You whine. That smile of his spreading as he reaches down for your hips, pulling your body toward him again. “Why?”

“You know why.” You can't believe you're actually pouting. Like a complete lower lip poked out, arms crossed pout. It feels so uncharacteristic, but natural at the same time. Jimin's eyes are rolling this time, hands pulling your chest against his before his arms are leaving your hips to wrap around your back.

“You don't have to fight it, you can just be when you're with me.” There's promise in his matter-of-fact tone and he's looking at you with those eyes again. And you believe him, oddly. Feel secure in his words, in his arms. Gaze flickering from your eyes to your lips then back up again. “Would you be upset if I kissed you?” His voice is hushed as if he was determined to keep this moment between just you two.

Soft lips press against yours the moment you're shaking your head. His signature groan falling from his lips as his hand reaches up to tangle in your hair. Different from the other times he's kissed you, this is much slower. Calculated in the way his tongue maps out the inside of your mouth as if he wants to savor the moment.

You kiss him back the same, palm of your hand easily finding the back of his neck to hold him still. Becoming completely uninterested in anything that wasn't his hands. His lips. Him. Jimin. All too soon, he's pulling back, leaving two quick pecks on your lips that has a giggle leaving your lips.

He takes a moment to admire it. Admire you. Wondering how he managed to get so lucky... and unlucky at the same time. “Come sleep in my room tonight.” You could guess how many girls had come here hoping to hear those exact words from his mouth. Knew one of them personally. And that has you pulling back, regret instantly crowding your heart.

“Are you stupid? We can't do that.” No matter how much you want to. The feeling of falling asleep in his arms, spending the night wrapped in his warmth, was quickly slipping from your memory.

“We can.” He's assuring you with a nod of his head. “I'll lock the door and it'll be just you and me. Then you can just leave before anyone wakes up.” Fingers reach out for yours, he's lifting your knuckles to his lips to press soft kisses against your knuckles. Softening you. “Who knows, maybe I'll make you squirt again.” Tantalizing teeth nibble gently at your digit.

You're pulling your fingers back just in time to catch his smirk. With your dark cheeks, you can't deny that you weren't completely against the idea of repeating the night before. “You're thinking too hard about it.” He whines. “I just want to have you in my arms. Nothing else, honest.” He's reaching for your hand again, lacing your fingers slightly.

“Why do you want that?” Can't help the question from tumbling past your lips, no matter how his words managed to make you feel. Because at the end of the day Jimin was still just a guy... and even if he brought a thousand hammers, you still had walls.

There's a furrow in his brow, head tilting to the side as he looks down at you. The pad of his thumb smoothing over the back of your hand, as his smirk turns teasing. “You don't want it?”

Jimin's room is just how you remember it. Charmingly messy, which most people would just refer to as disorganized. Not enough time is granted to peak around your surroundings, take in the trail of discarded gym clothes that lead to the en-suite bathroom. The clutter of books carelessly left in the corner of the room. The impressive collection of shoes lined up in the corner, the only thing that seemed to have a proper place.

All of that is missed because the second Jimin is shutting the door, his body is against yours forcing backward steps until your back is flat against his sheets. Sheets that he had changed since the last time for... obvious reasons. Plush lips trail a line from your chin to the meeting of your jaw and neck, pulling soft moans from your lips.

Both of his hands are sliding underneath the fabric of your tank top, stopping at your rib cage. Jimin's lips feel so good against your skin, natural as if that's where they belonged. The thump in your chest doesn't stop, in fact, it speeds the longer you lay underneath him.

Slowly, he's lifting his face from your neck so he's able to look down at you. Huffing out a chuckle, he's leaning down to press his lips to yours gently... pulling away before it can get too heated. “You look so dazed. Do you like me that much?” He's joking, can hear it in his voice... but you're not a big fan of the weight his words hold.

With a dramatic roll of your eyes, you're wiggling out of his grasp. He watches as you tug his robe from your shoulders before crawling your way to the head of the bed. Making yourself at home in his king size. Tucked in his fluffy blankets and Jimin is not fair behind you. Kneeling to remove his shirt before he's sinking underneath the comforter, arms mindlessly finding your waist.

Back pressed against his chest, he takes a moment to breathe you in. Loving that despite you having removed his robe, you still smelt like him. Mixed with your usual honey aroma, he can't help but nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck.

“I like you that much,” He's confessing into the darkness of the room, lips pressed against the skin of your neck. “Maybe, more.” It's the sincerity in his tone, every ounce of teasing completely absent. He means what he says and doesn't expect you to say anything back. Just wanted to tell you so that you knew.

And because of that, you feel your body warm. The swell in your chest growing, cheeks darkening. How did you manage to get so lucky... and unlucky at the same time. Refusing to think about the downside, wanting so badly to just enjoy this moment with him, you're pushing all the negative thoughts to the back of your mind.

Instead, you're turning in his arms. Fingers knitting through the hair at the nape of his neck, you pull him down toward you, lips finding his. He's kissing you back immediately, pouring all his passion, want, need into the movement of his lips. Pushing your tongue past his lips, head tilting for a better angle – fingers secured on the waistband of his bottoms as you hold him to you.

The groans that he emits from the feeling of your teeth nibbling on his lower lip has a gush of arousal heating up your core. His warm hand finds your wrist below the sheets, gently guiding it until your palm is pressed against the stiff hump in his pants. Fingers flex around it, forcing his hips to jerk forward.

You grin, pulling back from his lips to trail a line of wet kisses down the side of his neck toward his collarbones. Jimin has hands on your ass, kneading and molding the flesh with his chin rested on your shoulder so he can watch his hands. You didn't fail to notice the way he had hiked up your shorts to reveal more of your cheeks to his greedy eyes.

“You're so hard. What have you been thinking about, baby?” You recycle his words from the other night and from the chuckle that falls from his lips, he's noticed. “Wanna taste you...” He's admitting, his own words making his cock jump underneath your palm.

Hand slipping underneath the waistband of his pants... his boxers, easily you wrap your hand around his thick length. He curses out loud, teeth cutting into his lip to further silence himself. “You were so good to me last time... don't you think it's your turn?” Slowly, you drag your hand down to his base.

Jimin's nodding his head quickly at your words, “Yes, fuck.” He's basically throbbing in your grasp and you wonder when was the last time he has gotten off. Allowing yourself a moment to play with the thought of it possibly being before that night with you.

You whimper as his cock jumps underneath your light touch. It's as if he's getting harder as the anticipation grows and you can't deny the way that turns you on. His breaths leave Jimin's mouth when your hand is sliding up toward the head, “Holy fucking shit,” He gasps, just as you're dipping your head down a glob of spit rolling off your tongue and landing directly on top.

The slide of your hand is much easier now with the added lubricant. Jimin's hips rocking along with the movement of your hand. His moans interrupting the suction of his lips on your neck. Warm breath panted against your skin while you speed up the strokes of your hand, adding a twist in your wrist to add to his pleasure.

“That feels so good, Yn.” A dribble of precum slides down the side of his shaft following his whiny voice. You're wet just from the sound of his voice, the weight in your palm. How he's desperately rocking into you as if he's actually buried inside of you. It takes everything in him not to flip you over and do just that. Fuck you like he's been imagining since he first met you.

But he holds back because you had been hesitant before. Didn't want to push you too much, happy to take what he could. Leaving hickeys on your skin, your hands on him, your pretty moans that mixed with his hand filled the room. Yeah, that would be enough for now.

Palm closing a bit around him, mimicking the tightness he wants. “Y-you're gonna make me cum...” A stutter in the movements of his hips matches his strained stuttered words. You want him to fall apart, reach the level of euphoria he had brought you to. Strokes speeding up, thumb teasing his tip whenever you can reach it.

His breath is picking up, a string of curses leaving his lips as his thighs tense up. Arms tight around your waist, holding your close as his teeth scrape against the skin of your neck. Thighs rubbing against each other to create some friction of your own, you keep going. Not pulling back until he's groaning out your name, spilling his seed into the palm of your hand.

Jimin is lifting his head from the crook of your neck just in time to see you bring your palm to your mouth, licking his thick cum from your fingers. Eyes hooded but he doesn't dare to take his eyes off of you, the sight alone enough to have him wanting to go again. Wiping damp hand on his sheets, your eyes find his again and Jimin swears he was just shot in the heart. Breath knocked out of him just from the way you're looking at him.

“You're so perfect,” He's mumbling, because that's honestly the only word he can think of when it comes to you. A soft smile spreads across his face, hand reaching for his shoulder to gently push him onto his back. He lets you move him, getting yourself comfortable with your leg hooked around his waist.

His hand finds your ass, easily slipping underneath the fabric of your shorts. Holding him close to you, head on his chest you ignore the guilt eating away at your heart. Trying hard to focus on the good parts about being with him... which was everything. If only the circumstances were different.

Imagining what it would be like if things were like this. If you had only met him first, you could like him freely without feeling yourself shrink each time you were reminded of the sad fact. Jimin feels your mood shift but doesn't say anything. Continues to hold you close, his hand gently trying to soothe you. And with the gentle way he's rubbing your bottom, and the warmth of him underneath you – you're drifting to sleep.

At some point through the night, your position changed. Jimin's bare chest pressed against your back, hand between your thighs to find warmth. Legs entwined to ensure neither of you runs away. He's awake before you, plump lips landing soft kisses against your shoulder.

“Gotta wake up, baby.” Voice harsh from sleep, hushed as if he didn't actually want to wake you. “Wake up, I started the coffee maker and made pancakes,” He tries again, teeth nibbling at your skin and you're stirring.

Head shifting to look back at him, confusion written on your face not sure if you heard him correctly. “You made pancakes?” You question in your sleepy morning voice. Jimin grins, shaking his head before leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips.

“I'm practicing for our domestic life,” Laughing with a roll of your eyes, you reach down to pull his hand from inside your shorts. You sit up to pull the blanket off of your body, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you stand. The sleeping guests downstairs suddenly become apparent to you, with the chatter coming from downstairs.

They were awake already? What time was it? Was Miju down there too? Rushing to stand in front of the mirror, you wipe and tug at yourself trying to get rid of any evidence of what happened here last night. Jimin had gotten up too, pulling his shirt and robe back onto his body. His hands dropping onto your hips.

“Thanks for last night,” He whispers, calming your frantic movements with his soft tone and the kiss he presses to the side of your face. “I'm sorry it makes you feel so shitty... you enjoy yourself, though, right? In the moment?” You don't remember the last time you were thanked for spending the night with someone, your presence treated as valuable. And you're sure you were never asked if you had enjoyed yourself.

“I did, yeah.” He smiles at your words, taking a backward step, allowing you to move from the mirror to find your shoes. “Me too,” He agrees with a smile and you notice the tint in his cheeks... the way he's no doubt replaying the moment in his mind.

You're giggling, as you stand with your shoes fastened. “Yeah, we know you enjoyed yourself.” He moves to close the space between you, lips finding your lips. “I need to go,” You're stopping him before he can slip any tongue, knowing all too well where he was heading with the way his fingers stroked the hem of your shorts.

“One more,” He holds his finger up between the toy of you, puppy dog pouting right in your face and it's so cute that you can't help but grant him one more kiss. One more turns into three which quickly turns into five and before you know it he's pulling you onto his lap as he lowers himself onto his bed.

Fingers buried in his hair, you use your grip to pull his head back – freeing your lips. You laugh at the way he chases your lips, “One more.” He mumbles and you're shaking your head, leaving a chaste kiss to his lips before you're standing from his lap.

“That was the last one,” You're back in the mirror, fixing appearance. So drunk on him that it slips your mind that you're supposed to be sneaking out of his room. He's a few steps behind you when you pull the door open, wide eyes finding Miju at the bottom of the stairs.

Her back is to you, deep in conversation with Joonie and Taehyung. They're making her laugh, body bowed furrow as her back shakes. They look so proud of themselves, little did they know she laughs like that all the time.

You're frozen in place, stuck. Lost on how you were going to get downstairs without her seeing you, she was right there! No doubt she'd ask why you were coming from upstairs when you should have met her at the tents last night.

Jimin is reaching for your wrist, ready to pull you back into the room when Miju is turning around. She sees you, confusion flashing over her features but she still smiles, saying something to the boys before she's turning to make her way up the stairs. Jimin is kind enough to put some distance between the two of you, hands shoved into the pocket of his sweats.

“Yn? How come you're in Minmin's room?” She doesn't look angry, just confused. Doesn't expect the worse of you, because you're her best friend and no way would you spend the night with her crush and try to sneak out the next morning undetected.

“Oh. I had to use the bathroom,” The lie rolls off of your tongue coated with a nervous laugh. “Have the cleanest one in the house,” Jimin is helping with a smile that has Miju's face morphing, a smile to match his lighting up her features.

“I'll use it next time, the one down there is so sticky,” She scrunches her nose up at the thought and he's laughing. Like actually laughing and you can't help but notice how easy this is for him. You feel like you're about to crack and he's all smiles and laughter.

You're moving from Jimin's side to stand beside Miju, reaching for her hand – you give it a slight tug. “Are you ready to go? I think I'm all social-ed out.” She pulls her gaze from Jimin to laugh at your words, nodding her head.

“Yeah, sure. See you later, Minmin!” She's waving at Jimin who nods his goodbye and you're pulling her along with you down the stairs and all the way out of the house. She calls quick goodbyes to Joonie and Taehyung as you pass them. Then falls into silence the entire walk to her house.

The silence is uncomfortable for you. Wishing that you could know what she was thinking. Wondering if she bought that half ass-ed lie back there or if she was waiting for the right moment to call you out for it. She didn't seem pissed, her usually smiling self as she admired the nature around her.

Maybe she didn't pick up on the swollen lips and fucked out eyes. Maybe it wasn't as obvious as you had convinced yourself it was. It wasn't like the two of you came out groping each other, plus you've used his bathroom before... so it made sense for you to go in his room and use it again, right?

Miju doesn't say anything until you're stopping in front of her door, ready to wave goodbye when she's stopping you. “I was wondering, where did you sleep last night?” She asks casually, keys dangling from the tips of her manicured fingers.

“Oh, yeah. On the couch. I ended up crashing,” You try to be as cool as Jimin with your lies, brushing off the question with a laugh. She's nodding her head, focus dropping to the keys in her hand. “That's weird, though, because I went to look for you... and the couch was empty.”

Heart sinking, urging yourself to control your facial expressions, not wanting to give anything away. Not ready to talk to her about this yet. Not even sure if this thing with Jimin was actually a thing. “The couch in the den. Did you check there?”

“Hm, I didn't.” Something flashes in her eyes, but it's so quick you can't really place it. “Did you see the girl Jimin was with then?” Miju is not looking at you anymore, putting all her focus on trying to pick out the right key to open the door. “He was with a girl?” You play dumb because that's exactly how you feel at the moment.

She's nodding, a heavy sigh leaving her lips. “Yeah. On the balcony of the den. I thought it was you because of the jammies, but then he came and they started...” Miju shakes her head, stopping her words. “I guess you didn't see them, then?”

“I didn't,” You can feel the cracks in your heart, but can't keep the lies from falling from your lips. Knowing how hurt she'd be if she was to realize that it was actually you that she saw with Jimin. A huff of breath leaves her lips, eyes blinking as she lifts her head to look back at you. She looks the same way she does when she's about to cry and you want to reach out to console her, but you can't get yourself to move.

Miju doesn't let the tears slip, head shaking as she pushes a laugh through her lips. “He's a guy, right? No big deal. We're not even together. I just need to be bolder,” Her words oddly sound like you and you find yourself agreeing, nodding your head.

“Yeah. It'll be alright,” This time you're reaching for her, hand landing on your shoulder. She's shrugging you off, plastering a smile onto her face. “I'm gonna go in. I'll call you later.” She turns, easily finding the proper key to unlock the door.

You nod despite her having slipped past without sparing you another glance. With a heavy heart, you're leaving her porch. Guilt eating away at you with each step you took. And although it should be easy, you can't seem to land on the right thing to do.

Know that your first instinct should be to stop, to cut all times with Jimin so you can properly call yourself a friend to Miju again... but the thought of never talking to Jimin again, never get to feel his lips, be wrapped up in his arms... makes you sick to your stomach.

There was no way you could have both, though. You needed to make a choice.

– girl code rule #1: never, ever, under any circumstances fall for your best friend’s crush. but what happens when your best friend’s crush checks all the boxes of your ideal guy… and to make matters worse… he’s crazy about you too.

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A/N: timestamps make sense throughout the fic. to be added to the taglist, send me an ask !! feedback is highly !! appreciated, it’s the motivation i need to keep the fic going nd fun for you guys!!<33

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bookofmirth · 3 years

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If you have the time/energy I would love to hear more of your thoughts about Az's persona! He's such an interesting character to me, and I feel like most of the theories I see about him centre around elain, and how his behaviour is mate behaviour (the double bond thing). Personally I think azriel has a lot of anger, isnt very open with his friends, and also feels like he has to be the one to fix everything (this comes out with elain but also all his relationships).

Can I just start this off by saying “what the fuck” at the double/true/created bond thing. I’ve seen some WILD shit out there in the fandom, wild.

I have been writing and deleting and copy/pasting etc. this post forever and I can’t decide how to approach it, so I hope this makes sense! I didn’t pull out a ton of quotes because tbh it’s a lot of work and I’ve read these books???? So many times. And this is tumblr, not comprehensive exams.

I would agree with your characterization of Azriel!

Anger - this comes out in really inappropriate times, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he turns his anger around on himself. We all know that Rhys described his “icy rage”, and later on his “cruel competitiveness”.

Lack of communication - yeah, when has he had a heart-to-heart with anyone in this series? When he does, it’s not about making himself feel better, or sharing his own feelings. It’s to be of service to someone else. All the IC have described trying to reach out to him in their own ways, and not being successful.

Needing to fix things - yes! I see this as his need to be of service. He’s always the first one to jump into work. It took Mor hundreds of years to get him to go to Rita’s, right? He’s a workaholic in a world with no labor laws. He always wants to be the one in charge of gathering intel, of finding people, or fixing problems. I think this is closely tied to two things: his lack of self-worth, and his anger. If he can stay busy enough and work hard enough, he can prove his worth to other people, if not to himself. This is why he loses it when Rhys or Feyre tell him that he can’t handle something.

Funny thing, but people who have followed my blog since early 2017 know that I shipped moriel hardcore. I just loved it. I wrote so much meta and fanfic. A lot of the arguments that I see now remind me a lot of arguments people used to make about moriel - and it makes sense! Az’s behavior around both Mor and Elain are eerily similar. So I thought I’d compare his behavior towards them because that can tell us about his character!

To me, his treatment of Elain (and Mor) comes down to two things:

What his mother and Mor suffered (and he was unable to prevent), and

His lack of self-worth due to abuse

Azriel and Mor didn’t know one another very long before she slept with Cassian and was left brutalized by her family. This happened when they were all in their late teens, which is not long after Azriel was tortured by his brothers, rarely let outside, and rarely got to see his mother. At the same time that Azriel sees his mother treated so poorly, he then feels intense guilt and rage at what happens to Mor. It’s enough to make him overreact in the future, any time that Mor (or another female) is in danger. So here are a bunch of examples of him being overprotective of Mor and Elain. But mostly Mor.

In acomaf, Azriel has the audacity to tell Mor no, that she can’t go to the human lands (chapter 41)

“I fought in the War, you will do well to remember-”

“No,” Azriel said again, refusing to break her stare. His shifting wings rasped against the back of his chair. “The would string you up and make an example of you.”

At the end of acomaf he is still highly protective of Mor

Azriel’s head lifted from where he was sprawled in his own blood, eyes full of rage and pain as he snarled at the king, “Don’t you touch her.”

Mor looked at Azriel - and there was real fear there. Fear - and something else. She didn’t stop moving until she again kneeled beside him and pressed a hand to his wound. Azriel hissed-but covered her bloody fingers with his own.

Then in acowar, of course, he explodes at the High Lord meeting after Eris says that Mor dresses like a slut:

Azriel stopped.

Eris gasped for air as those scarred hands loosened. As Azriel turned his face towards me-

The frozen rage there rooted me to the spot.

But beneath it, I could almost see the image that haunted him: the hand Mor had yanked away, her weeping, distraught face as she had screamed at Rhys.

And now, behind us, Mor was shaking in her chair. Pale and shaking.

And of course in acowar Azriel goes with Feyre to rescue Elain. This ties together all of his issues with Mor and his mother. IMHO, Azriel sees Elain as a second chance. He saves Elain in a way he failed to save Mor, and so he begins to transfer his need to protect and serve onto her.

Azriel’s refusal to let Mor assist in dangerous situations is similar to how he says no, Elain cannot help.

Azriel stiffened, an outright sign of temper from him as he said quietly, “There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to.”

*Note that it’s an “outright sign of temper” - not an outright sign of protectiveness, or caring, or concern, or worry.

If being protective of another character is “mate behavior” or sign of a mating bond, then Azriel and Mor would be mated. There is far more evidence of him being overprotective of her than of Elain. So while we know that mates are protective (naturally!), Azriel’s protective tendencies are coming from something else - a combination of his failures to protect his mother and Mor.

In acofas, what Cassian jokes is Az being a stickler for manners in forcing everyone to wait for Elain, Rhys explains as being related to Azriel’s mother - not Elain or Cassian.

Rhys took a bite, gesturing with his knife for me to eat. Let’s just say it hit a little close to home. At my beat of confusion, he added, There are some scars when it comes to how his mother was treated. Many scars.

Again, it seems all well and good that Az was thinking about being polite, but Rhys tells us that it’s because of Azriel’s mommy issues! Which are understandable and important, but a clear example of Azriel trying to make up for poor treatment in one woman by overreacting around another.

In the acosf POV, when Az questions why he wasn’t mated with Elain (and he can smell bonds so wouldn’t he smell his own?) it’s not so much about Elain as the fact that he feels he did everything right this time. He saved the damsel. He was of service. Elain is safe and healthy and she seems much more amenable than Mor ever has. So what did he do wrong? This is the source of his anger, combined with his loneliness and desire for a shiny lovely mating bond of his own.

When we think about Azriel’s motivations, it comes down to service and self-worth. He sees his main value or purpose as saving others from harm, and when he was barely into adulthood he failed in that duty for the two most important women in his life. Hence his need to overcompensate around Mor, and now Elain.

#anon #acotar #acosf #morrigan #elain #azriel #antielriel #anti e*riel

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lavander-aavaros · 3 years

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Can someone explain to me like I'm 5 how Tadashi doing everything for Adam isn't just him being brainwashed and abused? Utsumi really showed Adam being abusive towards everyone with maybe 5 seconds at the end so where is the evidence that this character isn't abusing Tadashi or wouldn't abuse his partner? Because I could say all the other characters wouldn't.

To answer honestly, I don't consider myself eloquent enough to do more than yell into the void about stuff that likeminded people agree with. I'm gonna do my best but please take things with a grain of salt, I am not an expert, nor do I have years of academic research to quote

However, what you’re calling “abusive towards everyone” is in fact consensual violence. Extreme sports in a controlled environment, where people need a permit (pin or sticker) to enter, and therefore consent and engage with said violence, is not abuse. To quote one of my newfound favorite fics:

Abuse: "the use of something in a way that is harmful or morally wrong" "cruel, violent, or unfair treatment of someone" (-Cambridge Dictionary online)

Adam is very clearly violent and sadistic (he's an anime antagonist after all lol) and no one is here to deny that. But he is not abusing his power, wealth or status to mistreat the participants at S. The same way that Shadow throwing fireworks at Reki is not abuse either (everyone seems to forget that when talking about how bad Adam is)

Time and time again Adam has been shown to value people's agency and (enthusiastic) consent. He asks Langa "Mind if I touch you?" and when Langa doesn't answer he doesn't touch him. He makes invitations to beefs and it's made abundantly clear that his opponents can safely refuse (and would be the smart choice). When Tadashi enters the Wedding Beef as 'Snake', Adam treats him like an opponent, doesn't order him to drop out. Even when Tadashi threatens to take skating away from him, his only lifeline, Adam responds with "I won't let you win. You are my opponent and I will treat you as such"

"How is Tadashi doing everything for Adam isn't just him being brainwashed and abused" Simple! He gets paid. Tadashi's job as a secretary requires an application and contract. He's doing everything for Adam because it's his job. Driving? Paid! Organising his schedule? Paid! Managing S? That's money baby! Tadashi isn't coming home from his job at mcdonalds to do Ainosuke's dishes and laundry. He also has the necessary skills to find another job (even a helicopter licence!), so he's not staying with him "because he has no other option". In addition, he has access to all of Ainosuke's political secrets, he can make his career crumble with a snap of his fingers, sell him out to competitors, ruin him

Their relationship has been described in interviews as "master/servant" and not "romantic partners" (and also clearly seen on screen). Fans and fanworks may portray them kissing, hugging, going on dates and having sex, but that is simply an extension of canon and personal interpretation (and everyone's interpretation is different). The core of their relationship is childhood friends, skating and later their jobs, but the the actual canon does not portray them as a couple. (it may hint and nudge that something is going on but that's to be expected from an all male pretty-boy cast)

Remember the scene where Adam threatened to make Tadashi take the blame for the Takano ordeal, and was later revealed that he never planned to go through with it? He said that to get a reaction out of him, because he doesn't want a passive "sure I'll do it if you want me to"

I have some rambles that go over this in a little more detail that are too long to copy-paste here 1 2

Adam has been shown to get upset when Tadashi accepted to take the fall, because he doesn't want "no opinions" like his father, he wants an enthusiastic Yes. So that's why ep12 is so important: for the first time Tadashi expresses enthusiasm at the prospect of serving him, when all this time he's been wallowing in guilt and hurting both himself and Adam in the process. For the first time after years of "no opinions" Tadashi finally says "Yes!" with a smile on his face and it shows their relationship beginning to heal while still keeping their roles

"Because I could say all the other characters wouldn't." Unfortunately everything can be twisted in fanon and Adam is a perfect example of this. Fans control their own fanon and if I wanted to portray someone like Langa as a horrible scumbag that steals candy from babies no one could stop me, no matter how OOC that is

To wrap this up: Everyone can have their own opinions of their relationship, and if one chooses to portray Adam as abusive they are allowed to. However, portraying them as happy/healthy/working through their issues is also a valid, backed up by canon, viewpoint.

Personally I think "abusive Adam" is a huge misread of his character, but I'm not here to tell other people how to read

#sk8 the infinity #sk8 adam #ainosuke shindo #tadashi kikuchi #tadaai #there's also a bunch of other posts if you scroll through the Adam/tadaai tag on my blog #and a discourse tag if you want to subject yourself to that #clownon saga #sk8 discourse

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thebestpersonherelovesbucky · 3 years

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Falcon and the Winter Soldier: Ep. 4 Takeaway

Uh. No. No, I was not in any way, shape, or form prepared for that heart-wrenching opening. That raw emotion. The gut-punching fear. The devastation. The soul massive relief from under all that fear and pain. No, I was not ready.

“She’s just a kid.” This is why Sam should be Captain America. Look, no one can replace Steve Rogers. There will never be another Steve Rogers. But that’s not the point. Sam isn’t meant to replace anyone. He’s meant to be his own Captain America. A man who has the heart and soul of a person who doesn’t go looking for a fight. A man who will fight when it needs to be done. A man who reaches out with compassion first and fists second. Sam is the Captain America this world needs in these modern times and tbh it doesn’t deserve him.

“Those are our friends you’re talking about.” “The Avengers, not the Nazis.” Thank you for your contribution, Bucky. 😂 No, but, I really liked the our friends. Not just my friends, but our friends and Bucky concurring with that by pointing out who Sam means.

Sam sharing the story about his TT. His family means so much to him as does community and I think that’s why he can relate to Karli and what she wants to do but also cannot condone how she’s going about it.

Yes, if anyone wondered, Baron Zemo would sell out his family to the White Witch for some Turkish Delight.

I do like Zemo stepping back into the more villainous role. While I enjoyed the humor from last episode, it never really sat right with me that they gave Zemo a “tragic” backstory. He was Hydra in the comics and it feels weird to me to change it in such a way. He was a supremacist so his new anti-supremacist ideals is...off-putting to me.

“It wasn’t just one community coming together. It was the entire world.” Hence why Sam can understand Karli’s goals.

Sam assuming the leadership role so much in the episode. So much foreshadowing to what’s (hopefully) to come.

When Bucky loses it with Zemo and Sam is like “Don’t engage. He’s just gonna extort you and do that stupid head tilt thing.” Not only is this more leadership from Sam it’s also showing how much he pays attention. He knows all their social cues. He knew Zemo was gonna do that probably before Zemo even did. In other words, Sam Wilson is remarkable.

Sam calling Sharon for help. I wasn’t expecting her again so soon. Yay!!

As soon as John Walker steps on screen I want to punch something.

“He’s dealt with worth. And he’s not my partner.” Look at Bucky backing Sam up while trying to play it cool. We all know you love him, Buck.

Sam talking to Karli. Coming to her from a place of understanding and genuinely trying to earn her trust because he does understand her pain. He’s filled with so much compassion and so much empathy and he knows how to employ both of them to better a situation and the world at large instead of coming in guns blazing. He gets it. And he wants Karli to know that he gets it. His approach to getting her to see that she’s going about it in the wrong way. But while she’s okay with acceptable loss, she in fact expects it, Sam is not. “No, it’s not a better place if you’re killing people. It’s just different.” Again, this is what makes him a good Captain America.

“He knows what he’s doing.” Bucky’s faith and trust in Sam when Walker is literally itching for a fight. That...cold, obsessed look in Walker’s eyes was chilling. (I’ve given kudos to Mackie and Seb for their acting but I should also acknowledge Wyatt Russel’s chilling performance))

Thank you, John Walker, for coming in and making things better oh wait, no. Just come in a fuck things up. Super of you.

Sam’s immediate “no” when Zemo asked if he’d take the serum if he was offered it and asking about Bucky being included in the “super soldiers cannot be allowed to exist.” “Blood isn’t always the solution.” Sam is just. I’m running out of words.

I’m now walking a thin line of patience with Bucky criticizing Sam over not taking the Shield. Like, yes, he’s right in that Steve’s wishes were not honored, but Sam is living the consequences wanting to do the right thing by giving the Shield to a museum. He did not and would not have ever handed it over to anyone to use, especially not a man like John Walker. Sam didn’t give it to him. The government did. The same way they’d’ve given the serum to a man like Gilmore Hodge. The same way they forced it upon Isiah Bradley and then experimented on him and locked him away. The same way they “agreed” that Sam was doing the right thing by turning the Shield over and then handing it to John Walker. This is not Sam’s fault.

I could take hours of Ayo and the Dora Milaje kicking John Walker’s ass.

Ayo and the Dora Milaje.

Did I mention Ayo and the Dora Milaje?

I really want to know what Ayo said to Bucky there**. After everything the Wakandans did for him, I can understand why she did what she did. She helped give his freedom and his mind back to him. I know Bucky only intercepted in that particular fight because Sam asked him to and he didn’t (not totally) want them to hurt Walker but. They gave him this place of freedom and his actions (breaking Zemo out, getting involved in their fight) did disrespect them.

The Dora stepping on and catching the Shield. SWOON.

“They weren’t even super soldiers.” Oh, boo freaking hoo. You don’t need the serum to be a superhero, dude. And the fact that you’re basing so much of this on that plus your obesssion to gt it just proves you’re not worthy of it.

“Power just makes a person more of themselves, right?” Vs. “Because a strong man, who has known power all his life, will lose respect for that power. But a weak man knows the value of strength, and knows compassion."

Seriously, the expressions John Walker makes sends chills down my spine.

Karli calling Sarah. I actually thought she’d show up in person. Sarah’s comments about “Captain America” and her assurances that Sam is not working for Walker.

Sam’s immediate protectiveness when Sarah calls him and Bucky’s worry on his behalf. Sam’s anger with Karli when they meet again and the fact that he didn’t argue with Bucky for him wanting to come rather than Sam going in alone.

Sam and Bucky working together (anyone notice a lot less bickering??) is so amazing. I love them as a team.

Sam’s face when he realizes that Walker took the serum.

Quite honestly, if Bucky Barnes wanted to stab me with knives all night long, I’d let him.

Not happy with them killing Lemar for white man pain. I’m sure there were other ways they could have had Walker rage out.

That amazing parallel between Steve slamming the Shield down in Civil War to defend himself and Bucky and Walker killing a person who was just with Karli.

Speaking of parallels, there was SO many in this episode. The serum vials being shattered. The bursting through the doors Shield first. The jumping out of the window with the Shield. Just wow.

“The Whole World is Watching”. A quote from Black Panther when T’Challa did not kill Klaue, an actual terrorist. The title of this episode when John Walker kills a man who didn’t even incite his rage.

And, of course, that final image. I’m still shaking over it. If there’s a better image for what America represents to the rest of the world, idk what is. I just want to cry after seeing what this man is doing with it. This is why he’s U.S. Agent who represents the “power” and “strength” and “might” of the United States. Not Captain America who represents the ideals and hopes of what any country can be.

The acting in this is utterly incredible. The story has me reeling. My mind has been blown by each and every episode and I can’t believe there are only two left.

**Edit: Got it now! Thanks to those who messaged/replied!!

#Sam Wilson #Bucky Barnes #John Walker #Falcon and the winter soldier #Lemar Hoskins #Baron Zemo #marvel #Sharon Carter #mcu shows #fws spoilers #mcu #long post #my stuff #thoughts

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dindjarindiaries · 3 years

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10 Underrated Quotes from Season 2 of The Mandalorian

As previously seen with season one, I’m here with another list of underrated quotes from The Mandalorian—this time, from season two. I’m going to highlight some of my favorite quotes from the season or quotes that stick out to me and why I think they’re noteworthy.

I don’t own any rights to content from The Mandalorian and, if you haven’t watched season two yet, potential spoilers are ahead!

1. “Pay attention when a superior addresses you.” (Chapter 15: The Believer)

While this scene certainly isn’t underrated, I believe this line spoken by Valin Hess when he finally catches Din Djarin’s attention by the Imperial terminal deserves some reflection. It’s interesting to think about how responding to Hess’ first call of “Trooper” is something Djarin just... wouldn’t think to do, or is something he thought he could get away with. It seems that Mandalorians, while they value their leadership, don’t focus on hierarchical structures in their society, so Djarin isn’t used to having to obey orders like that. It’s even worse that he has to deal with this unfamiliar situation without his helmet for the first time since he was a child. It really draws our attention to how little Djarin knows about the Empire and other organizations outside of his covert.

2. “This is the Way.” (Chapter 11: The Heiress)

I think many of us can agree that the first time this statement is uttered in this episode, we’re less than pleased about it, thanks to Bo-Katan’s ridiculing tone. When it happens later on, however, there’s so much meaning packed behind the words. First, from Bo-Katan, who has witnessed Mando’s bravery firsthand and has likely realized how wrong she was making assumptions about him based off his covert and his traditions. In return, Mando’s response of the phrase is strained. Why? Well, it’s up to interpretation—but to me, I think it’s because Mando’s in awe of the idea of these Mandalorians who have already proven their abilities to him actually coming to respect him and the Way he’s known ever since he was a child. It was a great moment of reconciliation.

3. “Is he speaking? Do you... understand him?” (Chapter 13: The Jedi)

Something I love about this line in particular is the way it’s delivered. There’s such desperation concealed behind Mando’s modulator that tells us so much about what he’s been thinking while pacing the forest floor nervously. This desperation also tells us how eager he’s been to communicate with his child. Mando and Grogu have been together for a long time, now, and we know they’ve had plenty of one-sided conversations. I’m sure Mando has longed to know what Grogu’s been thinking in return, and now that he might have an opportunity to, we can really hear that sheer curiosity and desperation in his voice with this line he offers to Ahsoka.

4. “Jet back, you’re faster that way.” (Chapter 12: The Siege)

I’m sure we all have our mixed opinions about the season one Nevarro crew, but this moment in particular really strikes the depth of their friendship and companionship. Once they’ve all heard about Moff Gideon’s return and his request to get the child once again, there’s no doubt in anyone’s minds that Mando wouldn’t be going back for him immediately. Even though the job isn’t completely done and Greef, Cara, and Mythrol all still need a way out, they don’t even try to ask for Mando’s help. Instead, Cara insists that he gets back as fast as he can, even if that means the three of them don’t make it out themselves. I really love how that shared understanding and dedication to the child in all situations shows their deep friendship amongst the trio (and Mythrol).

5. “I’ve spent much time on Tatooine. I never saw a Mandalorian there.” (Chapter 9: The Marshal)

Mando’s response to Gor Karesh insisting that he knows of a Mandalorian on Tatooine could potentially be telling us more than we’re aware of. As far as we know, Mando’s only been to Tatooine once—and it was only for two days, tops. But here, he’s saying he’s “spent much time” there, which means it’s possible that Mando lived on Tatooine for a time while the Bounty Hunter’s Guild still operated out of there. If you think about it more, Mando knew exactly where to go for some work in Chapter 5, another hint that there’s more to Mando’s time on Tatooine than we’re aware of. The same thing could be said about his knowledge of Tusken and his friendship with the Sand People. Any time we get a potential hint of Mando’s backstory, I’m excited about it!

6. “Am I under arrest?” (Chapter 10: The Passenger)

This line comes quickly in the midst of Mando’s conversation with the New Republic pilots in Chapter 10, but I really love it. These few words say a lot about Mando’s character and how he responds to praise. He’s just been told all about his heroics in Chapter 6, when he risked his own life for Lieutenant Davan and reprimanded Mayfeld, Xi’an, and Burg—and when asked whether it was true, Mando offers no confirmation. He doesn’t even own up to his good acts. Instead, he simply acts this question, remaining the practical man we know him to be. This truly shows us the humble nature of Mando and how he tries his best to focus on the present rather than dwelling on things he’s done in the past, good or bad.

7. “... talent without training is nothing.” (Chapter 16: The Rescue)

On the surface, this seems like a very practical statement that many Jedi make throughout the series (see Ahsoka talking to Mando in Chapter 13 and Obi-Wan talking to Luke in Episode IV: A New Hope). When you think about it more, especially in context, you might be able to see Luke hinting at something much deeper. Luke heard Grogu’s cry for help from the Seeing Stone where it’s very possible Grogu was talking about his desire to protect his father by strengthening his abilities. Luke knows all too well what happens when you abandon training in an attempt to protect those you love—as for him, it didn’t go well. Yoda tried to warn him but he didn’t listen. Now that he’s learned his lesson, Luke can offer this wisdom to a Grogu who wants to keep his father safe. He knows that training first will then allow Grogu to protect himself and his father to his heart’s content, just as Luke was better able to protect his friends in Episode VI after he finished his training.

8. “Okay, I’m gonna protect you.” (Chapter 14: The Tragedy)

The scene in which this line is delivered is what truly establishes this episode as a tragedy. Mando’s tried three times to break through Grogu’s Force-field—not because he wasn’t thinking, but because he was so desperate—and now he has to come to terms with the fact that he’ll only hurt himself more if he keeps trying it again and again. Mando’s voice is pretty shaky if you listen to it closely enough in these lines, reluctant to leave his child atop the mountain alone but eager to protect him somehow. We know Mando doesn’t like to feel helpless, but we can sense he feels that way in this moment. He doesn’t even know if Grogu can hear him, yet he keeps speaking to him with such fierce protectiveness and reassurance. This is a promise he doesn’t fall through with, even if Grogu does fall into the Imperials’ hands for a time.

9. “Give it to me.” (Chapter 15: The Believer)

This is the moment where we all really knew what was about to go down. What I love about this quote is that Mando says it with no remorse. He says it firmly, insisting upon doing whatever it takes to get those coordinates and get to Grogu. He’s already made up his mind. Despite the fact he gave his word earlier about not showing his face, Mando’s going to do what he has to for his son. The firm way this line is delivered proves that, especially when he shifts from taking a backseat to Mayfeld to taking charge again as he pulls the data stick right from Mayfeld’s grip. I just really love Mando’s determination in this scene, despite the circumstances.

10. “I’ll see you again. I promise.” (Chapter 16: The Rescue)

Do I particularly think this line is underrated? No, not the direct meaning of it. But when you watch Star Wars Rebels and think more about the genius of Dave Filoni, there’s a whole new layer of meaning attached to these words. For those who may not have watched the show yet (you definitely should!), Kanan and Hera are two people who care very much for each other (wink wink) who once had to exchange a goodbye very similar to Mando and Grogu. Kanan was about to go on a very dangerous mission without Hera, unsure of what would happen to him, when he delivered these words: “We’ll see each other again. I promise.” This is almost exactly what Mando says to Grogu in the face of their temporary separation. The good news is Kanan and Hera did get to see each other again—but Kanan was changed forever. Will this happen with Mando or Grogu? It’s possible. But it’s just another one of those moments that makes me yell “FILONI!” in Darth Maul style.

#idk i just love the mandalorian and star wars #the mandalorian #the mandalorian season two #star wars #meta

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princessfbi · 3 years

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Hi my favourite Buckley Siblings person. I need some serotonin after reading some horrifically hot takes that basically said that Maddie and Buck is not a healthy dynamic and she has no boundaries when it comes to him.

So, I was wondering if you could give your too reasons as to why the Buckley siblings are elite? 💜

Isn't that always the curse of the eldest daughter? To be invalidated in your feelings and your trauma because you're expected to perform to an expectation that can be crippling. There's a joke somewhere along the lines of "are you an overachiever or were you just the eldest daughter?" that seems fitting this morning.

I mean let's talk about Margaret and Philip's history of invalidating their children's feelings for a second.

They forced Maddie to never talk about a brother who died that she remembered and had known for most of her life. Maddie was nine. She would've been a fourth grader! She was a kid who still had to walk in a single file line down the halls. Do you know what the big deal was when I was in fourth grade? I got to have my classes upstairs on the second floor. That was the big monumental life change for me in that grade. It was a big deal.

Maddie was a fourth grader who lost her brother, didn't even have a grasp of the concept of what death meant, was told to pretend Daniel didn't exist, and was aware enough that her whole life had changed.

That's a fourth grader being told never to talk about someone ever again. A fourth grader who is then taken away from her home, her memories, her friends and forced to pretend like nothing was wrong.

There's a reason emotional neglect has such a clear through line to later in life abuse. It's this idea that Margaret and Philip perpetuated with Maddie that there has to be this performance. Nobody understands our suffering and judges us. It both alienates a child and teaches said child that the world will not understand you if things are different. You see that with the way Maddie hides things with Doug, she makes excuses for him, it's different with her and Doug, she judges other victims of domestic abuse when they come into the hospital, and she deflects. All of this she learned from her parents.

Maddie hiding the abuse 🤝 Margaret and Philip hiding Daniel's death/their grief

Maddie making excuses for Doug 🤝 Philip making excuses for Margaret

It's different with her and Doug 🤝 Philip and Margaret crying victim about people judging them for having Buck because obviously that's not the same thing as other people who procreate children to save other children

Maddie judging other victims 🤝 Margaret and Philip judging Maddie for attaching herself onto someone who loves her (questionable but I think in Doug's own way he did)

Maddie deflecting about the abuse 🤝 Margaret and Philip deciding to move away and never talk about Daniel again

You see them do it again and again to Maddie ("You don't know what it's like you're not a mother yet") so it's no wonder Maddie does it to herself. She'd gotten used to it. You see her do it to herself with Buck, Chimney, Sue, Josh, and then for a brief moment when she's struggling with the PPD.

Maddie deflects but she also makes a point to not let Buck do that. That's why it's so meaningful that she came to talk to him after he revealed he was going to therapy because she thought he wouldn't want to talk about it freely with Chimney around. That's why she prods when Buck makes excuses for Abby's behavior towards him. That's why her scene where she calls Buck sad and lonely is so important. That sticks with Buck and instead of getting angry about it, he tries to get help. But then he does the same for her too "Because I always felt like you were sad too."

Meanwhile in regards to Buck, we see Margaret and Philip objectify Buck from before he was even born. I think a lot of people forget that objectifying someone doesn't strictly imply sexually. Being a donor baby already comes in a severe degree of objectification (you can see this as a major argument in regards to the whole concept of donor siblings ie the book Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro for example). Margaret and Philip objectified Buck from conception and when it didn't work, they didn't put the work in to shift that way of viewing Buck. He remained an object to them. He was never a baby, he was a thing. "We live with a reminder staring us in the face." They didn't just invalidate Buck. They didn't let Buck be a person.

And Buck had grown up being objectified his whole life which is why he doesn't even react when people are constantly doing it to him (people on the job, Abby, Bobby and the team to a certain extent.) I think it's interesting the way he reacts when Omar does the same thing when Maddie introduces him.

Maddie: Omar, this is my brother, Evan.

Omar: Oh, yeah, the football star.

Buck is so visibly uncomfortable when he says that it actually hurts my soul which is why that scene where Buck says "I'm going to be something... I just-- I don't know what it is yet" is so important. Because Maddie has spent her entire life being invalidated and she goes out of her way to make sure that doesn't happen with Buck. She validates Buck. She reminds him that he's a person. That he is someone.

So, when Maddie gives Buck the keys and the money to go away, she's not just giving him an escape. She's giving him permission to go be someone.

What I think people sometimes forget is that the trauma Buck experienced (the neglect which in my personal opinion, is a form of abuse though I know the technicalities are a gray point) was also what Maddie experienced. The difference is that Maddie got to be a person. She got to be their daughter. Their choice. Wanted. Buck wasn't given that consideration.

So, she did it. Maddie changed the course of trajectory for Buck.

And she started that when she was nine years old. A fourth grader decided that she was going to want this unwanted baby.

Maddie wasn't fighting her parents in Buck Begins about being able to talk to Daniel. She wasn't even fighting because they were invalidating her feelings again! She was fighting them because they were back in their lives and treating Buck like he wasn't a person again. She was fighting them because they came into town and gave a lackluster attempt at trying check and make sure Buck was fine before they dismissed him.

And Maddie wasn't going to let them do that again.

I mean just think about the "Don't be stupid, Evan"/"Don't talk to him like that" scene. It's so understated how significant those two lines are. It speaks volumes of the way Margaret in particular has diminished Buck's capacity as a human being and how she'd done it enough times that Maddie immediately jumps to his defense.

And it's not just Maddie who does it either. Because Buck knows Maddie deflects. He's seen her do it with his own two eyes (I just don't think he realized how much she deflects from him because again he thought they were on the same page). "C'mon you don't have to pretend with me. I know things aren't okay with, Doug." So Buck jumps in between Maddie and anyone who is a "danger" to her.

He does it with Margaret: "She's going to nursing school. You should congratulate her."

He does it with Doug: "Standing in between you and anyone who thinks they can hurt you is exactly where I want to be standing."

He does it with Gloria: "Want me to talk to her?"

And he does it again in the big build up at the infamous dinner scene with his parents. Buck has seen Maddie just take it, so he puts himself in the middle. "It was a compliment, Evan!"/"Oh, was it?"

"A united front."

"You and me in the world."

"Us vs them. That's what we always said."

I agree that I don't think it was Maddie's place to tell Buck's parents about his therapy (though, I know why she did it). But Buck is such a firm believer in the "People make mistakes. Doesn't mean you give up on them." and that came from Maddie and grew from his experience with Bobby, Hen, Chimney, Eddie, and Athena.

Buck and Maddie are never going to give up on each other. If they had, Maddie wouldn't have given him an escape. Buck would've stopped trying to contact her. Buck and Maddie show such a capacity of love and forgiveness towards one another it's maddening because they so easily could've not.

It's not Buck tolerating when Maddie "hurts" or "upsets" him. It's Buck loving Maddie so completely that he loves her in spite of her flaws. The same way she has loved him in spite of his failures.

I think that's really the saddest part about the people who don't quite understand the Buckley siblings relationship. It's people who don't get or haven't gotten to experience the profound love that comes from being forgiven for something. Forgiven completely and not just stated. I think to be forgiven, really forgiven, is maybe one of the greatest gifts a person can give you. Because to be forgiven is to be seen. It's be seen for all your faults and still accepted. Whether a person deserves forgiveness or not is really just a moot point if you think about it. Because to make the choice to forgive someone is a liberation of yourself by saying "I am not going to hold this baggage for you anymore." It's all you can control at the end of the day. How people respond when you say that is when you really get to see the true value you hold to a person. Like my sibling and I grew up hating each other. HATING each other. It wasn't until we were older that we started to connect. But I have never once, nor have they, questioned whether or not we would go to the mat swinging for each other. And yeah we have a lot of baggage we're still holding onto but one by one we're letting things go and we are still around for one another.

That's why I think it's fascinating Buck's capability for forgiveness and it stems from Maddie because Margaret and Philip I don't think have ever forgiven Buck. They may not have blamed him but they never forgave him either.

François Duc De La Rochefoucauld has a really amazing quote about forgiveness.

"One forgives to the degree that one loves."

Buck's capacity to love and forgive is because Maddie loved him so completely. She saw him as a person. She treated him as a person. She forgave him for being a person and she loved him for being a person.

They survive major childhood trauma together. It has created this codependency that is shifting for the better because Buck and Maddie are getting better. They're surrounded by people who love them the way Margaret and Philip should have loved them. They are surrounded by people who validate them the way Margaret and Philip should have validated them. They are surrounded by people who see them for who they are the way Margaret and Philip should've seen them.

"Cause it's hard to feel betrayed by someone you didn't really think you could count on anyway... and easy to lash out one the person that you know is always gonna forgive you."

So that's my top reason why they're elite. Buck and Maddie forgive one another the same way they love one another. Completely and entirely with their whole hearts.

#evan ‘buck’ buckley #Maddie buckley #evan Buckley #chimney han #Bobby mash #Eddie diaz #hen Wilson #Athena grant #buckley siblings #the Buckley siblings #buck can forgive his parents I shall never #never I say #madney #tw domestic abuse #ask #answered #maddieandchimney

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dropsofletters · 3 years

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enter for yes, delete for no [wkh]

—summary: “social science is easy. watch me get an ‘a’ on this class”, said wong kunhang, two weeks before failing his first social science test…and horribly.

in light of his new college class making him feel dumber than he really is, and trying to make it through one of his worst economical states ever by balancing three jobs at the same time, kunhang almost loses it when the professor announces that they have to work in trios and make a social science project that is worth 60% of his grade.

great.

now, he’s fucked.

with yukhei by his side, whose eyes divert from the book to scan the library and search for his next love affair, and dejun, who never wanted to be part of his major to start with, he’s left alone with the weight of getting a good grade…

until yukhei’s almost-always silent roommate gives him the idea of the century: a blog. an anonymous blog where he can solve people’s issues. he can do that!

only when he starts to receive submissions from a certain woman does he realize how wrong he was.

—title: enter for yes, delete for no —pairing: wong kunhang x reader —genre: college!au ; strangers to friends to lovers!au ; secret admirer!au ; roommate!au ; unrequited love-ish!au ; slowburn —type: fluff ; angst ; drama ; humor ; suggestive ; crack-ish —word count: around 19k words.

Kunhang thought that when getting into the political sciences major, he would only have to follow through with what he learned in the debate club back in high school. Tight smile, straight shoulders and a good ear for picking up on what people say.

The pamphlet that he read when opting for the college to attend to had never said that he had to have an entire class dedicated to social science. Knowing people, as human beings, individuals that feel and think, sometimes not as rationally as they should, shouldn’t be considered science. Chromosomes and genes? Sure, that’s science. Whatever the hell veterinarians study about dogs and cats? That’s science, too. Experiments based on how people react in social environments?

It’s dumb.

So dumb that Kunhang pushed the fabric of his gray hoodie on his black hair when leaning back on his seat when he attended the first class of social science in his sophomore year of college. The professor, Mr. Sam, sported his tidy and a little-too-small olive-green suit when he spoke to the class and Kunhang turned to look at Yukhei’s horrified expression with a smile on his face.

“Social science is easy,” He started, leaning forward on his seat before tapping his pencil against the wood of his desk. Yukhei scoffed at his words, a beam of his own taking place on his face because Kunhang has his moments of being too overconfident, and that coming from Wong Yukhei? It was grand. “Watch me get an ‘A’ on this class.”

Dejun sighed from his spot, the long and brown strands of his hair moving with the warm air that left his lips as he continued to scribble down some notes with as much furiousness as he could muster. “It’s not as easy.”

Humming, the tallest agreed. “I can finally say Dejun is right about something.”

The glare that Dejun threw to his friends was worthy of a picture, but Kunhang was the worst of them all, crossing his arms behind his back as he stared at the PowerPoint presentation with little to no interest.

“What’s so difficult about science that is based on people just talking to each other? I’ll get an A. Without studying, even.”

No one told him then, when he had spent most of his time studying for other classes and working his three jobs, that social science with Mr. Sam was a nightmare. Even a demon seen through sleep paralysis could be less scary that the beam the professor wore the day he decided to publish the grades of the first test of the class, delivering the pieces of paper one by one on top of his student’s desks.

Kunhang’s soft fingertips touch the surface of his test, turning it around and expecting to see—at the very least—a ninety-eight out of a hundred. Though, his chestnut eyes widen fractions that couldn’t even be measured when he sees his real grade.

“I had a laugh, Mr. Wong, dare I admit.” Mr. Sam says from his position next to him, fixing the rounded glasses that rest on the crooked base of his nose. The chuckle that leaves his lips annoys Kunhang to bits, taking in a breath. He can’t finish this class if he kills the professor, right? “One would think with how much you talk; you’d know more about social sciences…but that’s all you are, aren’t you?” The class falls silent, the student munching on his bottom lip to muffle the curses that threaten to leave his lips. “All talk won’t work for my class. Do better.”

With that, he hears a few muffled whispers and laughs around the class. Excellence was nitpicked in this exam, tainting his ego even further when he looks over his shoulder to see Yukhei’s grade.

“You got a seventy-two?!” Kunhang exclaims in a whisper, taking Yukhei’s test in between his hands.

Yukhei runs his fingers through his recently bleached blonde locks before shrugging. “I kind of had a date last weekend and she had passed this class. I was in her dorm and she repaid me with her notes from last semester.” The smugness in his voice has Dejun rolling his sharp eyes.

“Repay you for what, exactly?” Dejun questions, voice piercing, but Kunhang is not even half interested in the argument ensuing, mind roaming the sceneries of insecurity, jealousy, hatred…perhaps at himself or at this ridiculing teacher.

“I’m not allowed to say.” Yukhei replies, leaning on his desk towards Dejun, making sure to wink at him. “But I’m allowed to show you, if you’d like, bro.”

“Gross.”

Kunhang cuts through the conversation easily enough, not quite catching up with the bantering ways that surround the friend group. “How much did you get, Dejun?”

With that, the man whose drained ways have started to show on his deep eye-bags and the amount of time he spends studying, finally smiles. “I got a 99.”

And Kunhang got a 24. Fucking great.

In the scale of dumbasses, he’s right at the bottom. Even under the guys who copy and paste Google quotes on their social medias and get offended when someone calls them out because that quote is definitely not theirs, as they pride themselves in.

“No fucking way!” Kunhang lets out, his hand grasping Dejun’s test before he feels Yukhei’s breath ghosting over his shoulder.

“Who the fuck is Oaix Nujed?” The question almost seems to hold the answer to life in the way Yukhei spits it out, but it’s easy to catch up on what Yukhei didn’t understand at the time.

Kunhang turns the test around, Dejun’s alter-ego (eh-hem, Oaix Nujed) long forgotten and replaced for his real name. And his grade that stands in sixty-six.

“Shit,” Yukhei curses just as Dejun’s face pales, his thick eyebrows furrowed when he takes the test in between his hands. “I got the best grade out of all of us?!”

This can’t be.

N0. No. No.

Kunhang is certain he answered everything with a bit of logic. He read some here and there, that should be enough to pass a test. He’s sure Yukhei couldn’t do magic tricks with the notes his latest love affair gave him—

Mr. Sam stands in front of the class, his salt and pepper hair pushed to the front of his bald head to hide what is utterly obvious. He purses his lips when he fixes his jacket and speaks to the class. “The test was horrid. I even started to wonder how you made it to your sophomore year.” Well, Kunhang knows the answer. Hard work, paying taxes when it’s due, and with a lot of frustration. Example one, this moment. “So, to help you out, I’m going to reduce the percentage of value of the tests. I want you to familiarize yourself with the importance of social science, much more in the major you find yourselves in.” He breathes out, sitting at the edge of his desk. “I want a project. A social science project. Show me how people react when having relationships with other—friendships, enemies, whatever it is that interests you. With a basement of a hypothesis already done, of course. I don’t want anything from Freud because…it’s too simple. I need you to perfect it as if it was your thesis and I want it for the end of the class. Three months from now, that is.”

Okay, so he has a chance. He just has to think of a project that is not based on Freud and that shows the importance of society and their unions. If people went through this class and they didn’t die in the process, he could do it.

Right?

“I want it to be in trios and for you to show three different perspectives. You apply the same experiment but you have different thoughts about it. Conclusions, let’s call it.”

One of the girls in the class, with vibrant red hair and a black turtleneck, raises her hand in the air. “What if our conclusions are the same?”

“They can’t be.” Mr. Sam shrugs. “It’s social science. We don’t all enjoy the same relationships or friendships in one way or with just one group of people. Let’s say, if I see one word that is similar, I won’t even read the project. It’ll be a zero.”

Dejun clears his throat when he asks for the professor’s attention. “Will we be picking our groups or will you—?”

Mr. Sam interrupts him before he could continue, typical of him. His intelligence dares barricade his humongous ego. “I’ll let you guys work with whoever you want,” He fixes his folders and places them inside his backpack before chuckling softly. “I’m assuming Dummy, Dumb and Dumber are going to work together. Is that what this is all about?”

His nostrils expand the slightest when he presses his lips in a tight line. His mother has taught him how to respect elders, but if Mr. Sam just casually slipped and went down the flight of stairs in their building, with a car coincidentally passing over his face and killing him in the process…it may just not make him sad.

Yukhei whispers in the slightest deep vibrato. “Well, that’s new. Now, I’m Dummy. Normally, Dejun is—”

“I’m not Dummy, Dumb or Dumber.” Dejun shakes his head, on the verge of snapping at Yukhei. Well, he already did. “This man is just crazy.”

Kunhang nods at his words. “We agree on something, pal.”

“You know what? Yes. He’s a bit crazy.” Yukhei admits, placing his hand on top of Kunhang’s desk, the separation between Dejun and himself. “But I know a lot of people who had this class with him. From our major and other majors. It’s going to be fine. I still have those girl’s notes and my roommate is extra good at this kind of thing. She’ll help us out.”

Ambition fills his lungs when he hums along to Yukhei’s words. “I think Kun can help us, too.” Remembering the guy he works with, recently graduated, he taps his fingers against the desk. “We’re not going to let this man grade us that badly again. I don’t care how we’re doing it, but we’re getting a hundred on that project and he’ll have to suck my dick if he doesn’t give me that grade.”

“Oh man,” Yukhei says, laughter following his statement. “Kunhang is, for real, angry. He never talks about getting his dick sucked and now he wants Mr. Sam to do it for him.” Clasping his hands in front of him, he chuckles when Kunhang slaps the back of his head. “Aw, that’s so cute. Celibate and all, you’re a cutie.”

“Democratic vote to kick Yukhei out of our group.” Kunhang states, raising his hand at the same time that Dejun does, only to have Yukhei’s smile dissipating.

Well, at least he has his friends while going through this hell, scalding him with disappointment.

“You’re just jealous I’m Dummy.”

###

Four in the morning and Kunhang is already slipping into a cold shower. By six, he’s already out of the door and towards his first job of the day. With an apron wrapped around his waist, he serves coffees to people who dare say they are sleep deprived, but his eyes almost feel like they glue together from his hard work.

He’s out of there by eleven, with his feet moving incessantly on his bicycle to get to his first set of classes. Schedule arranged to take up his college courses from twelve in the afternoon and four, he gets out of his classes with homework to fulfill and another job to take care of.

By five, he waters Mrs. Ling’s plants. Makes sure to sings a tune to them or talk in order to get extra points with the older woman, who smiles at him when he gets out of the door only thirty minutes later. Once again, Kunhang finds himself in his bicycle and he rushes over to the restaurant he works in from six to nine at night. That’s where Kun is a dishwasher, just like him, trying to meet ends before he finds his first real job.

Just when he’s out, he gets enough time to study and do homework. Surprise, surprise, it’s never enough. He’s dozing off by twelve, working through his projects with expertise before he repeats the cycle again. Four hours of sleep, three jobs, classes, tests, sophomore year and a social life, if it’s after nine at night.

Three months is not enough time for him to think about a project, let alone work on it. Dejun has a job of his own—though, he takes care of children on his free time—and he’s as studious as he can get, but Kunhang just can’t play the asshole card and let all responsibilities fall on his shoulders. The thought makes him rub on the dishes with more force, his uniform splashed by droplets of water.

Yukhei could think about it—he’s got enough wit to do something, but he’s not as good in redacting something. His big eyes can stare into a Word document and not think about anything for hours. He could be in charge of tracking, excel sheets and graphics, but writing is just a big no.

If Dejun hasn’t had an idea in two weeks, as he said earlier when he saw him in class, he’s sure Yukhei doesn’t either.

And he sure as hell hasn’t had any time to think about it either.

With a pleading tone and jazz music in the background, his thin lips wrap around every edge of his words, his black hair falling across his slim face while he expresses his worries to Kun. Said man is more relaxed, not thinking about studying anymore but with a permanent frown when being denied the opportunity of trying by the real world. His degree dusts itself off in his apartment while he waits for a chance.

“I need you to give me an idea so I can develop it.”

Responsible lines of upright nature join and thread to make Kun’s shell. He raises one eyebrow, shaking his head when he chuckles softly. “No.”

Think of the pain of stepping on four Lego pieces at the same time. Yeah, that wouldn’t even compare to what Kunhang feels right at this moment. “Dude, don’t be an ass. I really have no idea what to do and my tests are going horribly—”

Kun sighs deeply, leaning his taut waist against the edge of the counter near the dishwasher. “It’s s0cial sciences, Kunhang. If I help you out, there is nothing that you will learn. You need to learn the root of social archetypes and correlations to be able to get a nice grade, and you won’t do that if I just help you.”

Alright, so, maybe, Kunhang is physically and mentally drained. He manages to be good in other classes—studies in between the times he has free and gives up his social life on the slightest bit just to be able to meet ends, but failing a class is something he can’t give himself the benefit of. He’s tight on money, and his face won’t be tranquil enough to tell his mom that he failed.

“I’m just asking you to give me an idea for the project,” Kunhang tries to convince the older man. “You didn’t have a class with this asshole. He’s gone through four divorces, man. Not a single woman can stand his faulty, stupid ass and that’s factual.”

Blinking, even his coworker seems surprised. The truth is…Mr. Sam is entire textbook-based. If he sees a comma, he wants you to write that comma on the test. Logic aside, he wants investigations, hypothesis, an entire project written on your test without a single ounce of your train of thoughts. Or, if you mask it as such, it has to be quoted from someone else. It’s tiring.

Yukhei is a memory learner. If he repeats words for a long period of time, he will learn them, a bit out of order, but his mind is skillful enough for that. Maybe, that’s why he does so great in this class.

“I just…I don’t know, man. I want you to feel the gratitude of doing this on your own.” Kun spits out, only to have Kunhang scoffing.

“I just want to pass.” Swatting his hands to watch the droplets of water fall away from them, cold in the freezing kitchen, he sighs. “I don’t care about learning because that man leaves no room for learning. He thinks he’s it. He’s worthy of writing a hundred textbooks because he’s that smart.”

“I can give you some textbooks, but I really don’t have the time to sit down and think about an idea. Sorry.” He can’t blame him, but somehow, he does. His options are running short and Yukhei, the star of the class, still hasn’t had his grand idea. Kun’s plate—metaphorically speaking, the plates are clean in this restaurant—is filled with a little too much stress right at this moment, and Kunhang can’t just beg him to go back to the pressure that comes from college projects. “I’ll bring them to you tomorrow. I know how packed your schedule is.”

He has no fucking idea. His body giving up on him, his knuckles almost become white when he leans his weight forward and grasps the edge of the counter in between his hands. A tired breath accompanies his dizzy mind, migraine thumping at the back of his eyelids. At the verge of giving up, he bites down on his lip, nodding once and returning to his positive ways.

Yukhei’s roommate is his only option.

###

Truth be told, the only good thing about working three jobs and having an apartment of his own, is that the money is worth it. He doesn’t have to deal with someone’s noise, one-night stands and the horrid walks of shame, and he definitely doesn’t have to hear one of his best friends screaming at the top of his lungs as he plays videogames and completely ignores the assignment at hand.

Sure, ten at night is not exactly the perfect moment to work on a project, but it’s the only time Kunhang has had free and he studied ahead of this Friday night just to be able to be here, at Yukhei’s place. Yangyang, one of Yukhei’s roommates, is playing around with the blender at the kitchen, making God-knows-what for the past fifteen minutes, stopping his ministrations to try the concoction before going back to the awful noise again. In any other occasion, Kunhang would have played along, nodded along to the beat of Yangyang’s dubstep blending…

Yet, for the first time in twenty-one years, Kunhang can say one thing…

He’s more stressed than Dejun.

Dejun flips one page to continue reading his textbook, his hair done a mess and his lips forever closed as he stares between his notes and one of the books Kun lent them. Still, not an idea has ensued. Maybe, he can blame it on the fact that Dejun’s girlfriend had just called him and created a scene out of him not being with her on a Friday night, jealousy pouring from her every word and Dejun’s eyebrows forever petrified in a frown growing even deeper.

None of the trio are on it today.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Yukhei curses, moving his controller to one side as his big eyes concentrate on the screen. “Babe, could you help me over here? I’m about to get killed.”

Oh, so that’s why. Kunhang could almost chuckle at that moment, had it not been for his comfortable position on the couch next to Yukhei, with one leg resting on the armrest and his eyes trained on a textbook he doesn’t give two shits about. Yukhei has completely forgotten about social sciences girl and now he’s with a gamer girl. From the faint distance, he hears a light giggle and a sweet tone.

This is definitely going nowhere.

“Found anything, Dejun?” Kunhang asks, finally straightening his back to hear every bone crack into place. When is the last time he took a nap and rested his back properly? He’s not sure.

Absentmindedly, the man’s brown eyes claim Kunhang’s attention, barely even there when he hums. “Not really. Kun’s textbooks are fine, but I asked around the class to see what topics people have picked and they’re all written down here. We need to come up with something else.”

Great. Now they’re behind everyone. “Alright,” Growing tired of waiting, Kunhang stands up, throwing his oversized bomber jacket on top of his white t-shirt, paired with comfortable basketball shorts and sneakers. “Yukhei.”

No answer.

“Yukhei!” Kunhang says louder, though Yukhei is still very much playing around with his PlayStation. Patience running low, he takes the headphones away from Yukhei’s ears, putting them around his head before speaking. “Listen, I know he looks cute in his profile picture and that you may think he’s the biggest catch in the world, but I really need you to stop flirting with him for two seconds so I can have him put, at least, a grain of knowledge into this project we’re making. It’s not you, it’s not me, it’s Wong Yukhei and his dick that keeps slipping out of his pants. I’m sorry for interrupting.”

“Hey!” Never had he heard Yukhei’s low voice grow so high, pausing his game to stand up and place his hands on his hips. “Don’t talk to GameOn187 like that.”

“Oh, GameOn187 doesn’t mind the slightest bit.” Kunhang crosses his arms across his chest, laughing at Yukhei’s antics. Okay, he was angry one second ago, but seeing Yukhei be so serious about someone he doesn’t even know the name of is hilarious. “Where’s your roommate?”

With that, worry grows on the man’s face, grasping his phone in between his hands and frowning at the time. “She told me she was outside fifteen minutes ago. She must’ve come back from her date by now.”

His stomach churns, twists in worry when he takes Yukhei’s keys in between his fingers and speaks over the noise of the game and the blender. “I’m going to look for her.”

“Do you need me to go with you?” Yukhei could fall in love as easily as he grew in high school, but that doesn’t mean his care and attention doesn’t go to his best friend and roommate.

With the starry night, blinding street lights and the college students drinking around the building in this Friday night, he’s sure he won’t need accompaniment. “I’ll be fine. I—I just need to look for her, get her home and make sure she helps us out.”

That’s how the cold night bites at the skin of his calves, long hair sweeping away from his face to showcase his worried eyes. Yukhei’s roommate may not be his closest friend, but glimpses of her in high school come back to his brain. Sweet, shy, a bit soft. The change happened when she suddenly grew dull, strong, collected and silent by the time college came around. Never had they connected on a level deeper than a few conversations and their shared interest for Yukhei’s wellbeing.

But he knows that not appearing for fifteen minutes after instructing she was outside is not a good thing. He greets some of the English majors by the entrance, drinking from bottles of beer with electric cigarettes dangling from their lips, but that doesn’t take his attention away from the quickened movement of his legs as he screams out her name.

Heart racing, eyebrows scrunched and eyes set everywhere and anywhere, he’s midway through the entrance, almost towards the street when he sees her. Leaning against the brick walls of the apartment complex for students, her back bent as her date relishes on kissing her like a madman, hungry for more of her. His hands go up and down her back, opening and closing when he leans his abdomen forward and pushes her more into the wall.

With how into it the taller man with a slim waist and buff arms is, Kunhang almost wants to look away.

Though, then he sees her. Her lips are moving, softly, delicately, not quite catching up to what her date is doing, taking more of her as if she owes it to him. Thus, her eyes are opened, lifelessly staring at the man with confusion, as if trying to understand the situation she’s in. Her hands rest on his shoulders, halfway through pushing him away or tugging him closer. Confusion and tenderness bathes over her features, clearly giving him a sign that she may not understand but he does.

She’s not into the kiss.

So, he calls out her name, loud and clear, powerful enough to make the man kissing her pull away from her, a scaredy cat in the making. She rubs her mouth with the back of her hand, the saliva glistening against her lips almost making him laugh.

Well, that doesn’t seem like a good kiss.

“We were looking for you.” Kunhang says, voice tranquil, barely jutting his chin towards her date as a greeting before trailing her eyes over her worried expression. “Yukhei and I. Want to come home now?”

Her date opens his thick lips to say something, his hipster hairstyle—shaved by the sides, sleeked back by gel—touched by the wind when she presses a hand to his taut chest. “Sorry, Leo, I think you should go.”

The man looks at her with the gaze of a man who wants something more and maybe, he’ll beg for it just to get a taste of her. “Want to take me to my car, then?”

She looks into his eyes, doubting, staring at the car with little to no longing before shaking her head. “I have to study.” Her excuse is as clear as day, but Kunhang doubts the asshole by her side even notices her reactions. If he couldn’t tell she wasn’t into that horrible kiss, then he’s not perceptive at all. “Text me once you get home, alright?”

The buff man quirks an eyebrow towards Kunhang, moving backwards as he gets the keys of his expensive car out. “I don’t think I caught your name.”

“I didn’t tell you.” Kunhang answers, shrugging his shoulders when she moves to his side. For some reason, he can’t understand how someone as beautiful as her could go for the most simplistic man out there. Like everyone else in college, if not worse. And dumb, at that. “…It’s Kunhang.”

“Take care of my girl, will you?”

Scoffing, Kunhang chuckles soon after. “I think she can take care of herself perfectly well.” And he does, her change of character had only made her stronger, more reliable, though glimpses of that shy student he once knew in high school existed within her.

By the time the man’s car parked off and weaved through the streets in a rushed manner, Kunhang turns to look at her, resting his hand in between her shoulder blades to move her forward.

She walks alongside him, cladded in some beige shorts, a tight black shirt and a dark denim jacket. Unlike what she wears on most occasions, with boots tall enough to be killing her, but it’s a change of style. Glimmering beauty making him have a second take before smiling to himself.

“You weren’t into that kiss at all, were you?”

That question has her licking her bottom lip, the street lights casting down on her features before she shrugs. “Make outs should feel a bit disgusting, don’t they?” The question at the end lets him know about her insecurity, shoes dragging across the flooring. “I mean, it’s a mess of tongues against tongues and teeth and sucking and biting. That’s…meant to be gross at some point.”

Disagreeing completely, he shakes his head, resting his cold fingertips inside the pockets of his jacket before sighing. “Take a seat,” Upon seeing a set of stairs that leads to the entrance, the two of them sit on the concrete, eyes staring at the road ahead of them. Silent, until Kunhang speaks up again. “Kisses aren’t meant to feel gross. At all. If you are really into someone, it’s going to feel…sweet, you won’t even have to think about opening your eyes because you’re too entranced in the moment.”

Her cheekbones lift up when she smiles at him, resting her hand on her palm, elbow resting on her knees. “I didn’t open my eyes because of t—that…” Once again, she’s looking for excuses, blinking rapidly in the process. “I, shit, I can’t believe you saw me make out with someone.”

“Leo.” Kunhang corrects. “Why did Leo make you open your eyes, according to you?”

A sigh leaves her lips. “I guess I wanted to see how he looked like when he kissed me. I don’t know.” She replies, growing raged by her own answer. She drops her hands on her lap, looking down at them.

That’s not unusual. Some people just want to see how the other person looks like, but by the way they kissed each other with so much difference in approach, Kunhang could guess two things. It was one of their first kisses, first and foremost. And, none of them tried to meet at the middle; Leo asking for too much, while she asked for too little.

“Okay, okay!” Kunhang says, lifting his hands in the air. “Let’s say I believe you. What did you feel when you saw him kissing you?”

“Kunhang, really. It’s not that deep—”

“It is,” He finalizes for her. “I’ve known you for years and I’ve never seen you date anyone. Not once. You’re always so secretive about it. I know you’re not the kind to kiss where everyone can see you and you definitely are not the type to go for the most simplistic guy in the entire campus.”

That makes her laugh. “I didn’t meet him at the campus. I met him at my workplace.”

Oh, right. Yukhei always talks about his free yoga classes coupon that she gets him each month as a gift. She’s a receptionist at one of the gyms near the campus. “Fair enough, he’s a gym rat. I can see it. But what did Leo make you feel—?”

“I don’t know, he just looked weird!” Exasperated, she replies, a laugh leaving her after she says those words. “That should be normal. I’m sure it’s not impossible for me to be one of the few people who just don’t like kissing or think the person is cute but when they kiss them, they lose interest entirely. No one looks attractive while kissing someone.”

A thought crosses Kunhang’s head, a memory that he pushes to the back of his brain when his eyes claim each portion of her face with the drag of his pupils. “I think you’re wrong.” He whispers. “You’re always so uptight and proper, so difficult to approach, but you bend to a man’s will when you’re not even attracted to him.”

“He’s okay—”

“Okay is not enough for kissing someone.” Nudging her side with his elbow, he watches her lift her gaze, eyes connecting with her own when he sighs out of his words. “Listen, I know Yukhei should be the one to tell you this but he’s not the best of examples. Just because you’re young doesn’t mean that you have to do things just to do them. You get the benefit of feeling nice when you’re kissing someone, to want more, to not feel like lying to someone just to end a date. That’s not how attraction feels like.”

She shrugs, the night washing her down when she leans back on the stair and stares at the night sky. “What if I never feel like that for someone approachable?”

That takes the words out of his mouth for a second, turning to look at the stars as well. They twinkle, bright and clear, when he says: “I doubt you couldn’t get whoever you want.” He initiates. “Good legs and a nice smile? You’ll get any man you want.”

Deep is the laugh that leaves her lips, twirling her thumbs in between her fingers before whistling. “You’re really good at reading people, you know that?”

“Tell that to my social sciences teacher. I’m failing the class.”

A movement from her has their knees colliding, plastered to his side when she asks: “You’re failing Mr. Sam’s class?”

“He’s impossible.” He says, looking into her eyes and letting his smile fall at the memory of such class.

“Oh, tell that to his four ex-wives. He really is.” She conquers, but she swats her hand in the air soon after. “He’s all talk, though. I got a 98 in his class.”

“How?” Kunhang questions.

As if giving the elixir to a happy life, she quirks an eyebrow. “Just take what the textbooks say and apply it to our society. What you know best. In my case, I did a project about the repercussions of college on stressed students and what the root of societal norms do to craft impossible expectations, correlated to ‘all-or-nothing’ personalities and procrastinators.” The explanation of her project has his head thumping. Well, she is smart, he’ll give her that. Though not smart enough not to go out with a man like flavorless-ass Leo. “Dejun was one of my experiments and yes, his college life makes his very unhappy but that’s far away from the case—”

“What do you think I could do?” He expands his hand on top of his heart. “I truly have no idea.”

Her lips purse as she studies him, thinking for a moment before snapping her fingers together. “A blog.” She says. “Make an anonymous blog where you solve people’s issues, just like you did to me. Read people and tell them your opinion and see what’s the most common issue in selected age groups. For example, most 50-year-olds in your blog expressed issues with divorce and erectile disfunction while most 20-year-olds expressed parental issues and lack of knowledge on what their future holds for them.”

Denial almost slips from his lips, but the more he thinks about it, the more interested he is. Advice from Kunhang had been thrown around in between laughter, mostly shrugged off because he’s just some funny guy trying to take care of his friends, but then, it settles on him. He’s good at reading people, and his advice, while being anonymous, may be even better without the construction of walls of shame and dignity.

Taking her face in between his hands, he places a short peck to her forehead, standing up from the flight of stairs when he shouts out: “That’s brilliant!”

“Thanks.” She chuckles, slower in her movements when moving away from the staircase and next to him through the apartment complex.

“I’m going to tell Dejun so we can start working on the website today and Yukhei has a bunch of followers on Instagram. We can definitely find a proper following and get this going this week—”

Laughing, she adds: “See? Social sciences aren’t so bad after all.”

###

Demographics are insane. Five thousand Instagram followers from Yukhei plus the word spread around the campus in the past three days and now they have over one thousand messages to reply to. All in three motherfucking days.

The website had been coded by Dejun himself, simplistic, with the layout made for people to read the forum but to be unable to comment on what other people say or do. Against hate, of course. The only people who are able to talk are the administrations—Dejun, Yukhei and Kunhang, but even then, when he sees the inbox while standing in Dejun’s bedroom, he feels like throwing up.

“Wow,” Kunhang says, a smile taking over his features as he stands to Dejun’s right, Yukhei taking the spot on the left. “Well, we have to get to working.”

“How exactly are we going to get through over a thousand messages? And counting.” Yukhei says, watching another notification pop up from the corner of the website. “Listen, we can’t solve everyone’s issues…and leaving some outside would give us a bad reputation.”

Always the organizer, Dejun snaps a sheet of paper away from his agenda, clicking on his pen a few times, trying it out on the paper before sighing. “We’ll take turns and we’ll close the inbox by now. Each of us will personally respond to different messages, fifty at a time.” Jotting that down, he scribbles his friend’s names. “Yukhei will take the morning hours, considering that he’s free most mornings. I’ll take the afternoon time because I’m taking care of the kids by that time and Kunhang can take the night shift, respond to fifty messages himself.”

“That’s a lot of work.” Yukhei announces, but Kunhang chuckles.

“And a lot of data. This is a big project.” Kunhang finalizes. “How many days would it take us to get through all the messages?”

“We’d be responding to one hundred and fifty messages per day,” Lost in mathematics, Dejun clicks his pen one last time before hanging the piece of paper on the corner of his computer screen, glued by a bit of tape. “So, it would take us around a week, and that should be it.”

That just means they wouldn’t have to take in that much more data. One week worth of hard work and then, the only thing they would have to do is write down the project.

“Let’s do it, then.” Kunhang announces, looking down at his watch before clicking his tongue. “After I study for my final. See you guys!”

###

“Ugh, I can’t stand him. I really can’t.”

She stops wiping the main counter of the gym to watch Chaeryeong dabbing some sweat from the connection between her hairline and her forehead away with a towel. Her short black hair rests on her toned arms, her tattoo displayed on her left forearm, body cladded in her gym clothes. From the far distance, she sees Dejun rushing through his last set of push-ups before getting out the door, without even saying goodbye to his girlfriend.

Chaeryeong is a trainer here, though that’s not how he met her. They studied together during their first semester, before Chaeryeong decided that studying wasn’t her thing and dropped out completely. In between her family’s judgement and her growing relationship with Dejun, she decided to go that extra mile and start lifting weights. Buff arms and legs accompanied her, paired with her strong features and slim lips.

But what had once been the love story everyone envied now seems to be falling down. Stopping her ministrations, she leans forward on the counter to speak to her more privately. “He was just working out, Chaeryeong, he’s doing his best.”

“But he said he was going to be here two hours and thirty minutes later, he says he has to work on another project!” Chaeryeong whines, gulping down the rest of her water bottle before crushing the plastic in between her palms. Now, that’s anger. “He doesn’t even have time for me anymore and hear me out, girl, I was checking his Instagram the other night as I stayed over in his place and some bitch sent him a DM saying ‘you’re so hot’. I think the fuck not. I have all the right to be mad at him.”

Chaeryeong supports her friends much like she does her weights, but her personality goes from zero to infinity. It’s up to her to calm her friend down, hand extending to rest on top of her calloused hand. “Babe, Dejun loves you. He even gave you a promise ring and all. He’s just been really busy and that’s why he hasn’t been around as much as you want him to. After all, he’s in his sophomore year. We’re all busy around this time.”

Nodding, her friend continues her train of thought: “So, what about the girl?”

That topic is a little bit more difficult to treat, veins popping out of her neck the slightest out of the pressure building inside of her. A red jealousy monster at times…that she is. “He’s nice looking. Was she a senior?”

“Freshman.”

“Even worse,” She spits out, returning to her rubbing against the desk. “Freshmen are excited to finally be in college and they’re a little bit out there. Does he follow her?”

Chaeryeong shakes her head.

“Has he replied?”

Once again, the answer is no.

“Then, why are you worrying?”

“Because he didn’t tell me! I only saw the DM; he didn’t even want to tell me on the first place!” Chaeryeong marks her truth out with every elongation and punctuation of her words. “I appreciate your honesty, but if Dejun even dares cheating on me, I’m out. I’m not here for him to get angry at me when he has been the one who is distant and—”

From the corner of her eye, she sees a familiar figure entering the gym. A white t-shirt clings to every curve of his trained yet slim chest, pale skin plastered in some moles around his neck, thick lips curved into a smile, cheeks as tinted as the pink shorts he wears today. Zhang Leo, who had once asked her out while entering the gym two years ago, slim as ever, and had grown some muscle after a while, perseverant enough to get her out on a date.

Only a few seconds pass by when her knees duck and she’s hidden behind the desk, Chaeryeong stopping on her rambles when she mumbles: “W—What? What happened?”

“Leo is here.”

“Shit, let me cover you.”

Blame it on curiousness and a lonesome night that ended up with her saying yes not to one, but to three dates. Leo had persisted, ridiculously proud of going out with her but still, not daring to speak about himself but what he wanted to do with her instead. It was tiring, barely able to make her heart race past the initial fear of kissing him. Then, came blankness, exasperating dullness that she can’t get rid of, much like she can’t get rid of Leo.

The man moves towards the desk she hides behind of, expanding one hand on top of it as he speaks to Chaeryeong. The first thing he does is call out her name. “Where’s my girl?”

My girl, he says, even though she’s totally sure that’s a noun he uses for plenty of women. “Been throwing up like crazy since last night. She isn’t working today.”

Clinging closer to the desk, she sincerely hopes Leo doesn’t dare look to the left, because he could get a glimpse of her in this immaculate, big gray gym. “That’s weird.” Patting his hand against the desk, he adds: “Tell her to call me, okay? I’ll get tired of her if she keeps running away.”

Though, by the time he has left, she barely hears Chaeryeong’s voice mouthing out a small:

“Asshole.” She says. “Darling, you really don’t have to go out with an asshole like that, you know that? You definitely can get better.”

And that’s the set of words that cling to every corner of her mind for the rest of the evening. Even when she’s walking home after taking the bus, all she can think about is how romance is never fitted for her. Never had she felt love for someone, or the romantic kind, at least. Never had she been swept off her feet other than with a character on the screen. Never had she enjoyed a kiss as much as she did one time, and it wasn’t even a real kiss to begin with.

Her mind wonders—had love been created just to bring hope to people? Or was it misery that cladded the word and made it impossible to find these days? Had the people who had fallen in love in the past, hard and fast, with utmost sincerity, held onto the doubts that cover her every being?

If love was a word everyone understood, why was it so different for everyone?

If everyone was capable of loving, why was it difficult to find someone who loved her how she wanted to be loved?

Why couldn’t she love anyone, on the first place?

Speaking out those thoughts to her friends is the least she wants to do. None of them would find an answer—too entranced in their own issues. She can’t ask them to understand her, when she can’t do it herself. So, with a notification from Yukhei’s Instagram account from one day ago, her finger taps on his story, getting a few seconds to read the ‘swipe up’ message.

The Experience Club, get advice from people who have gone through it all!

Well, it’s worth a try. Besides, none of them would really know it’s her, after all.

Her fingers move with precision on the screen to write down the message on the big white box.

Dear ‘The Experience Club’,

I’ve never fallen in love with anyone and I feel pressured to do it thanks to my age. Though, all I’ve managed to meet are a bunch of dumbasses. I don’t know if it’s a me-issue, making me the type to attract assholes, or if it’s all them.

Should I feel ashamed of not having fallen in love? Or, even better, should I grow used to not feeling entirely attracted to someone because there is not such thing as a middle-half? I know people have flaws, I don’t expect someone to be perfect, but I thought, at least, my partner’s imperfections would suit me and be, somewhat, acceptable.

Maybe, I’m too impatient or selective, I’m not sure.

Please, help someone out.

Sincerely,

Loveless Anon.

###

“Mom, I promise, I’m fine.”

With his phone perched between his slim shoulder and his cheek, his fingertips continue to trail on the keyboard of his half-functioning laptop to finish the essay he should have finished a week ago. A plate of cold noodles settles on the side of his coffee table, back hunched beyond relief as he listens to the faint sound of a Post Malone song in the background.

Fine.

Spectacular.

Kunhang couldn’t be better.

But as he hears his mother shuffling around on the other end of the call, his ears become wary, trying to distinguish the almost imperceptible noise. “I’m sure you can do this and much more, Kunhang.” Dulcet as ever in her tone, she continues as Kunhang resumes his furious tapping. “See, baby, I’m moving your sisters’ degrees away to get that special spot for you in my living room. I want everyone to see my political scientist boy.”

His heart squeezes against his ribcage, stealing his breath away when his phone almost falls off his shoulder. Little does she know he’s halfway through failing a class for the first time, balancing three jobs and still, on the verge of paying another class with Mr. Sam. As if education wasn’t expensive enough.

“You didn’t have to—”

“You’re my boy, of course, I had to.” Stubborn, his mom continues. “You sound tired, Kunhang.”

“I already said I’m fine.” He grumbles, not meaning to sound as annoyed as he does. Truth be told—it’s the annoyance he has at himself. How fucking difficult is it to get over sixty on a test? He does fine on his other classes!

“Two jobs and studying are a lot of things, Kunhang. You used to be brighter.”

Sighing deeply, he puts the last word down on his essay, opening his Gmail and writing down some simplistic greeting before turning his work in. If only his mom knew about the third job…

“Just a bad day, mom.” Rubbing his eyes, he tries not to let his voice break. What about some bad months? Would it be too much to tell her the truth? “I have another project to work in, so I’m not sure if I’ll be able to call you until tomorrow night. If you’re up, that is.”

“I’ll stay up for you.”

A smile plasters on his features. There will never be a love as beautiful as the one that comes from a good mother. “You don’t have to…”

“I want to.” She says. “Unless you’re playing this victim card so your mom doesn’t call you.”

“I could never.” His fingers hover over the mouse before clicking on The Experience Club’s website, the white color almost making his irises burn.

“How’s Yukhei doing?”

Typical guy who earns a spot in moms’ hearts. “I think he’s out with someone right now,” In light of Yukhei’s usual personality. “I haven’t really texted him today, but he’s doing fine.”

A little bit more talking ensues in between his mother and himself until he hears her yawn, loud and clear, barely getting a few words out when she excuses herself to go to bed. Not like he could do such thing, he has fifty letters to go through that he has to answer as soon as possible.

Forty-seven letters later and he has three hours to sleep when he feels his body melting into the seat, eyelids closing before he opens them widely. That jolts him awake, clicking on another letter to read through it.

Loveless Anon.

As he reads through the passages of questions and insecurities, he becomes awfully aware of his own vision of love. One year ago, one would see him tagging along with Yukhei, earning the attention of one or two women, responding to texts and being on social media. Then, came his shortage in salary and he had to add another job to his list. Working at a café was far more difficult than people thought.

Each day, he saw people flirting, he saw relationships blossom, but never had he stopped once and thought love was for him. Sure, he knew one day would come that he’d fall for someone…but he didn’t know how it feels. Great, he has felt comfortable enough in the relationships he has been in, but they have never been the greatest, making him think about the future.

With his mouse hovering over his answer, he starts typing:

Dear Loveless Anon,

Welcome to the Club, first and foremost. Truth be told, this had me thinking for a bit. I think love is something we’re allowed to feel, but we’re not meant to go through it per say. We decide if we want to do it or not, so being selective is never a bad thing.

Do I think it’s humanly impossible for someone to never feel love? Maybe. I think you’re just looking in the wrong place—or, perhaps, that is where you go wrong. You’re looking, you’re not exactly waiting for it and taking your chances.

Here’s a question: Do you look for a shooting star or do you get surprised when it arrives and make a wish?

It’s a one in a lifetime thing. Most people haven’t seen a shooting star, but they have seen planes fly by or starts that twinkle in different lights…and that, in the night sky, looks similar. Not all of us are shooting stars, but we’re shooting stars for someone.

Lighten up! I think you haven’t noticed you don’t have to settle for someone who doesn’t look at you like you’re that one bird that they confused for a shooting star. Flawed, sure, but still beautiful.

Thank you for giving me something to think about.

Sincerely,

H.W.

###

Four years ago.

Dipping French fries in garlic cream is a gift sent from heaven. It’s what distracts her in this awful party with high school students, sporting their best clothing, faces filled with dumb smiles in need of feeling integrated in groups. Instead, she leans against the kitchen counter in the house of one of her classmates, concentrating on the scene that develops on the TV screen, a romantic movie displayed in there as she munches on the snacks everyone has been passing on just to socialize.

With the sound of her name cutting through the music, she turns towards the gray door that leads to the small kitchen. Yukhei is there, brown hair falling on his forehead as he clasps his hands together in front of him. A ridiculous plaid shirt rests on his upper body, tucked inside his skinny jeans when he pleads, in his best whiny tone:

“Can you please stop being a party pooper and come play a game with us?” He questions, and she knows Yukhei does it in good fun. He brought her here on the first place, in his dad’s car, as he begged to have his best friend by his side. Parties are his thing—and with his high school girlfriend tied by his side, he attends them much more often. “Please. I need you to have fun once.”

Truth be told, she’s not as easy going as she should, but she continues to dip another French fry into the cream before bringing it up to her lips and taking it in one bite. “I’m having fun. Titanic is running, the AC here is just perfect and this cream, God, Yukhei, this cream is to die for—”

“You ate it all yourself?” The taller man questions, taking the plate in between his fingers and watching that, indeed, the plate is halfway finished. “Shit, you smell like garlic.” Bringing his index and thumb to his nose, he plucks at his nostrils not to smell the garlic in her, and she has to raise her eyebrows at that.

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll just keep my mouth closed.”

Through a nasal tone, her best friend shakes his head. “You can’t.”

“Why not?” She says, blowing air into her rounded palm to feel her breath. Oof, boy, is it a good garlic.

“Because we’re about to play seven minutes in heaven and I want you to have a second chance at a first kiss since your first one sucked.” Fifteen, in the back of a cinema, with someone’s tongue down her throat and buttery fingertips running over her arms. It was horrid, and the thought alone of kissing someone else has her stomach churning. “I won’t pressure you to do it, but if the person you’re selected to go with is attractive to you,” He lets go of his nose, taking in a deep breath before smiling at her. “Go for it. You deserve to have a second try.”

Angel is not an adjective that would go with Yukhei’s name, but he is practical. “I’m not sure. I don’t want to offend anyone by saying no.”

“You’re not.” Yukhei says, swatting his hand in the air. “We’re all okay with it, and if you want to participate, you’re allowed to say no. We changed the rules. It’s consensual seven minutes in heaven. A classic for us.” Tugging at the sleeve of her oversized sweater, he drags her towards one of the bathrooms, rummaging through the glass cabinets until he finds some toothpaste. “But I need you to pour some of this on your finger and brush your teeth the best you can without a brush because I don’t want anyone tasting the garlic in your mouth. Thank you.”

Not enough objecting later and an endless pep-talk from Yukhei, she finds herself on a circle with some of her friends and classmates. Around twenty, to be exact, and the bottle had not landed on her yet. A few rounds pass by, and she’s left sipping on some soda to take the garlic breath away from her mouth—though bettered after half-brushing her teeth—, knees brought up to her chest when the bottle swings and she connects gazes with everyone on the circle.

Gravity makes it choice and when she looks down, the bottle is pointing at her, the other edge signaling towards Wong Kunhang.

Kunhang is not her closest friend, but he is cute. Big dark brown eyes, straight hair falling on the typical hairstyle on his forehead, dressed better than Yukhei in this occasion. A graphic t-shirt with some Star Wars quote and ripped jeans. His lips barely quirk up at the corner of his mouth when he looks up at her, her heart caged against her chest in fear of being denied.

Because Kunhang is a yes for her. She can’t say she would absolutely mind kissing him.

A shiver goes down her spine when Dia, one of the girls on the circle, claps her hands together and points to Kunhang after. “So, Kunhang, are you willing to get locked for seven minutes with your selected partner?”

Okay, this is it. This is the moment she feels like dissipating because one of the cutest guys in her class denies her. Maybe, he’ll stick his tongue out and pretend to vomit, or even worse, he’ll just shake his head and purse his lips, showing his disinterest—

“Yeah, of course.” He shrugs his shoulders, he does do that, but he sounds interested, quirking an eyebrow at her as his eyes twinkle. “Do you want to?”

The question is slow, enough to have her blinking a few times until Yukhei nudges her side with his bony elbow. “A—Ah, yes, I wouldn’t mind.”

“Sweet.” One of the guys says, deep voice following a high-five with Kunhang as the selected guy stands up and extends his hand towards her.

Shaking fingertips wrap around his, nervous beyond what she could explain. Yukhei had talked about this—kisses that were only meant to feel good, but she doesn’t think there should not be a reason for kissing. Clammy palms and tethering figure must have been made noticeable to Kunhang when they open the door to one of the closets, the lights turned off when they lock them inside, chest to chest, coats surrounding them in the cramped room.

With her heart practically racing out of her chest, Kunhang interlocks his fingers with hers, softly, speaking into the thin air: “We don’t have to kiss, you know?” He says, a chuckle following his words. “I’ll settle with a kiss on the cheek if that’s what you want.”

“W—Why do you say that?” She tries to grow accustomed to the dark room, but Kunhang’s eyes are nowhere to be seen in the dark.

“You’re shaking.”

Breathing out softly, she engulfs his palm with some strength. “I’m nervous.”

“Because of me?”

“Because of the kiss.” She mumbles out, feeling one of Kunhang’s hands pulling away from her hold to push her hair away from her shoulder, settling on her jaw softly. “I—I don’t think I enjoy kisses.”

Kunhang stays silent for a few seconds before quirking his head to the side, a confused noise leaving him. “You don’t?”

“They don’t feel good for me.”

“You’ve tried with various people?”

“One guy.”

“Who?”

“Woosung. He graduated last year.” Kunhang must not know him. Woosung was part of the soccer team, while he’s part of the debate club—

“Who the fuck trusts Woosung with a kiss?” He questions, voice levelled to have people believe they’re actually not just talking. “Isn’t that the guy who pees in the bushes instead of going to the bathroom like actual people?”

“He’s lazy.”

“It’s school. You can’t be that lazy.”

That relaxes her enough to chuckle, chest touching with his slim frame in the process. “Maybe, I just made a wrong choice.”

“Not a ‘maybe’. I’m certain.” Kunhang confesses, pushing his body forward the slightest, just one step, but enough to steal her breath away. “…What would you say if I told you I could do better? I mean, you could always compare and it could be a nice experience. You, you know, could consider this your first kiss.” He shrugs, and though she wants to continue talking, her eyes have finally settled to the dark and she sees the outline of his thin lips, too close for her not to notice them, not to want to taste them—

“Why not?”

Those are the two words that gave her the best kiss she’s ever had. Sweet, tranquil, patient, meant to feel good, to be relaxed and dizzying. Her palms extend to end on his waist, breathing in the scent of his perfume mixed with some spices, his hair tickling her face when he decides to deepen the kiss.

Most first kisses with someone are not perfect, but this one feels like it, taking every portion of her soul and claiming it as Kunhang’s. His hands settle on her waist, feeling feminine for once, as if she’s more than just a pair of lips to kiss—he has purpose on this, for them to feel good, connected beyond what anyone could have explained to her.

Wong Kunhang is one damn good kisser, even when he was just seventeen at the time.

And his sense of time is to envy, pulling away with a smile and a sly pop of his lips when he whispers, taking one last peck from her: “We have twenty seconds. I don’t want you to get caught.”

She barely has enough time to fix her hair and the sleeve of her sweater when Dia opens the door of the closet and beams at them.

“How was the kiss?”

Kunhang could have talked about how he dizzied her, made her feel better than any man but he went for the route he knew would be better for her instead.

“Wouldn’t know. We just talked.” Though, she’s not sure anyone believed him, lips rosy when he took his snapback and placed it backwards on his head, taking a seat on the circle once again with a smile on his face.

Dia wraps an arm around her shoulder, gasping at his words. “You just talked over there?”

Looking into her eyes, she finishes the conversation with a whispered: “I think we just needed to catch up.”

But her braincells hadn’t caught up to how insane she felt after kissing Kunhang.

So, that was what a real kiss was.

###

Her ribcage digs into the edge of the counter of the gym, pumped-up hip-hop music blaring from the speakers when she swipes through her phone screen. Worries, all accumulated inside her head, with the need to be voiced out, go from one corner of her brain to the other as she swipes through her screen, refreshing the website that had given her some peace of thought when it came to solitude.

How would Kunhang react had he known the reality of it all? Had he known that H.W had made her feel better? They never had that connection; that thing that she had with Yukhei where she could approach him and endlessly talk about topics with no judgement inside her heart. Not because she feared his words would pierce through her with stigmas, but because the distance between them was based on her attraction towards him. Always relaxed, honest, living a day at a time…seemingly unworried.

So, she continues to talk to him, in hopes to be read, to get a glimmer of his heart and head once again even when the website’s inbox is closed.

I don’t know why I’m writing to you again, or well, I really do.

H.W, have you ever made a mess so big you don’t know how to put the pieces together? Have you ever hidden in hopes of no one seeing you? I’m sure not a lot of people have. Here I am, hiding from the man I don’t want to date while I’m unable to tell him to just fuck off.

See, something you should know about me, apart from loveless, I’m also a coward.

The first thing I thought about was writing something to you. I know this is part of your project and you may not read me again, but whatever, I just need to let this out with someone…

Do you, oh so wise love master, have some list of ways to break things off with someone who you’re not really dating but you don’t want to see anymore because you didn’t want to see them on the first place?

Asking for a friend.

Or, not. Definitely asking for myself.

I’m a mess.

Dearly,

Loveless Anon.

P.S: Should I start calling myself Dumbass Anon? Fits better, IMO.

With that, she shrinks at the sight of Leo entering the establishment, the heels of her palms digging onto the tiles to get away from the main area and into the office at the back, closing the door behind her with a soft swish.

She’s sure of one thing, she doesn’t want to kiss that man again.

###

“What does…?” Plopping the red lollipop from between his lips, Mrs. Ling’s grandson, Lu, swings his feet back and forth while seated on the bench in his grandmother’s garden. Mrs. Ling had married a wealthy man back in her day, when her ninety-year-old bones didn’t creak whenever she walked, hence the family has a wealthy lifestyle. “What does Pikachu turn into once he grows up?”

Lu may be trying to say the word ‘evolve’, and this entire obsession for Pokémon may have come from the constant singing of the theme song towards the plants with the kid around, but with the sun beaming down his features, keeping him reddened under the limelight, Kunhang hums. “That’s be Raichu.”

Pouring water fills the silence around them until Lu pouts out his plump bottom lip, his long dark bowl-cut moving with the wind. The seven-year-old is adorable, he’ll give him that. “But Pikachu never changes in the show…”

Turning around, he stops watering the plants, a smile taking over his features when he says: “Maybe, because he doesn’t want to change.”

“But who wouldn’t want to be a stronger Pikachu?”

That question makes him think back to his website. It’s been a while since he last checked for it, inbox closed and project running, but all he can think about is Loveless Anon. She wanted to be better at love, without realizing there is no bettering what is just meant to happen.

“Strength is not everything, kid.” Kunhang replies, tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear. “Sometimes, all we need is our friends. Or people who want to be by our sides. What’s the point of being better if you can’t be better with your people?”

That has Lu thinking for a few seconds, his Pikachu plushie placed on his lap, his chin resting on its head and Kunhang resumes to watering the plants, twenty minutes left on the clock before he has to rush out of there.

“Are you Raichu or Pikachu?”

That moment, Kunhang wants to laugh. Well, the metaphors are now connected to a kid’s show. “Like, a Feebas. Unique, but no one really gives a…thing about me.”

Lu’s eyes twinkle when he stands up from his spot. “I have a Feebas in my game.”

“You do?”

“Yes.” Lu nods. “It’s cool, like you. I want to be like you when I grow up, HangHang.”

When a plate breaks, the sound perpetrates each portion of a person’s body. It shatters to the point of bringing fear onto someone. Yet, that dulling noise settles inside his ears, confusing him when he sees Lu enter the spacious home and rush up the set of stairs. A kid, a whole rich kid who plays Pokémon a little too much had told him that he wanted to be like him?

Now, that’s one of the best things that has happened to Kunhang in a while.

And maybe, it’s about time he feels proud of what he has done. A website, along with his friends. A project now developed, that doesn’t sound too bad. He’s midway through his career. A good friend, a nice son, an annoying brother…he’s a lot of things, but he never stops and thinks about the change he can make into someone’s life.

That’s how he ends his job a bit early, with ten minutes on the clock as he takes a seat on that bench Lu had taken place on, rummaging through the website to see if Loveless Anon had written something else to him.

Nonetheless, he didn’t expect for her to actually reply to him.

Thus, taking into consideration that the website includes the option of personal replies, he starts writing.

Be honest. That’s the key to life.

You know, I don’t think you’re a dumbass. I have a friend who is just like you. She’s…amazing, but she doesn’t realize it in most occasions. If ever. I think if the guy you’re seeing is an absolute asshole, prepare with all your might, make something grand that sits his ass down in place and have a great time at it (record it if you do embarrass him, I love watching assholes have a hard time).

But hey, if he’s a nice dude, just sit him down and talk about it. Say you don’t feel the way he wants you to feel and move on.

I don’t think being a coward is inherent to us. We can change it, you know?

Or, contract H.W to do it for you. Would love to!

P.S: I really like the name Loveless Anon. It sounds so aesthetic. I can imagine it on Pinterest posts between hearts.

Talk to me sometime, maybe off anon dude,

H.W.

Though, when he lifts his gaze, he hears the sound of someone falling onto the bushes of the garden, he stands up with a frown on his face.

Oh, please don’t tell him he’s about to be part of a robbery—

###

People of the world, jot down the rule number one of living in your notebooks…

Don’t break up with a rich person while being on their car. Don’t break up with a man with an ego so huge it’s bigger than his nonexistent ass. Those are two rules, but with a comma in between, they can be added together.

Leo’s sharp eyes had managed to find her today and with his incessant need to get her out to buy some ice cream for her, a wet kiss pressed to her lips without her desire, she decided it was time. You know, how in movies the side character who is best friends with the real main character opts that enough is enough and they’re going to evolve.

Well, this didn’t go so well.

What she had said, five minutes ago was: “I don’t think we should be seeing each other. Ever. I just…ah, it doesn’t work for me, I guess?”

So, that’s where the pleading started, his plush lips spitting out the truths that he guesses about her—that she was so into their kisses, so devoted to him, so simply head over heels that he couldn’t believe she was spitting out such lies.

“Leo, I’m fucking honest. It’s over.” With her patience running short, her fingers hook around the handle of the door, ready to jump out of the car if necessary. The man is not even looking ahead of the road when he comes to a clear, abrupt stop.

“You’re such a needy little bitch.” Finally, his true colors are shown and she has to lift her eyebrows at the sentence that left his lips. “You think that just because you’re half cute, you get to treat people like shit. It has always been like this—”

“Well, you were the one trying it out with me. You were pushy, Leo.”

“You said yes,” He shrugs, unlocking the doors of his expensive car, an eye-roll following after. “What are you, stupid? Now I have to read between the lines with bitches because there are people like you that don’t know what they want?”

That is the brink of the iceberg, the tip, making her chuckle as she opens the door of the car. “I know what I want,” She starts. “And it has never been you. I dated you because you were all over the place, asking me out.”

“Out of pity.” Leo conquers. “No one wants to date you because you’re fucking impossible to deal with.”

“Okay then! I’m better off not dating if that means not seeing people like you.”

When she closes the door of the car, the swooshing motion of the windows opening has it pulling down. “Get back in the car.”

“I won’t.”

“Get back in the fucking car before I tell everyone just how much of a bitch you are.”

“I don’t care. Not about you, not about your opinion.”

Though, when she hears his wheels whirling and the man moving backwards, she starts running, fearful of what his tainted ego could do. Rocks splattered on the sidewalk may have been enough to make her lose her footing as she looks over her shoulder, someone’s gates digging onto her sternum for the briefest second when she falls, lunching forward and inside a house.

Well, what a way to end things coolly.

Curled leaves fall against her hair, the harshness of a hose plastered against her waist when she lets out a curt sigh. She swears she hears footsteps, but with the sun beaming down on her eyes and the fall corrupting every portion of her muscles, her ears barely make out the noise until someone’s strong fingertips wrap around her arms and bring her up, stomach folded, eyes widening when she sees the person in front of her.

He calls out her name at the same time that she whispers out a tiny: “Kunhang?”

For once, the sun has done him justice, scarlet streaks of embarrassment and heat transcending from his cheeks to his neck when a big smile takes over his features. “You’re trying to rob my employer’s house?”

“God, no.” She shakes her head, her own hands resting on his shoulders to straighten her back and get up as skillfully as she can while hurt from the fall. “No, no, I would never.”

“Then, explain this very inappropriate way of entering someone’s house.” Thus, she knows he is joking around with her, arms folded across his chest when she sighs deeply.

She has written to him under the name of Loveless Anon, maybe because she was scared of saying it out loud—that the only man she has ever enjoyed kissing and hasn’t lost attraction to is him. There, with the fear of being judged for being so fucking easy to read, for him to know that things with Leo weren’t working out, she decides to speak up.

“Leo was following me around with his car after I broke things off with him.” Resting her hands on the depth of her pockets, she shrugs. “Well, or he could have just driving off, but with how angry he was…I thought…”

“What did he tell you?” Through gritted teeth, he hunts for answers, jaw tightened on his hold.

“Called me a bitch. Said something about me being impossible—”

“Oh, of course he would.” Kunhang rolls his eyes, pure exasperation following his scoff when she decides to interrupt him.

“It was my fault. I shouldn’t have dated just because, it was bad.”

He quirks an eyebrow at that, before humming softly. “You’ve got a point. I can’t say it wasn’t your fault.” He replies. “But that doesn’t give him a reason to treat you badly, much less make you jump into someone’s house.”

“That was a reflex.”

Placing one hand on top of her head, Kunhang chuckles. “I don’t care. That asshole doesn’t get to treat you like that.” With that, he gives one step away from her, the warmth of him replaced by the sun when he goes pick up his backpack. “Is he out there?”

She knows how tight Kunhang’s schedule is, so she shakes her head. “I doubt he is. I—I will just walk home.”

“I can’t offer you a car ride, but I won’t let you leave on your own. What if he’s out there, all pissed off?” With that, he tosses his helmet towards her, caught through nimble fingers when he gives her a smile. “We’re going on my super bicycle. Batman had his car, I have my bicycle.”

Though the sentence warms her heart, she can’t accept it. “Kunhang, you’re going to run late to work—”

“Consider it a calf workout. I need them to get stronger.” With the way he rests a hand in between her shoulder blades, moving her away from the garden and saying his goodbyes over his shoulder, her mind can already make out his positive answer to taking her home.

“Your legs are fine.”

“You think so?” Kunhang asks, a hint of a blush on his cheeks. “So, the ladies say.”

“Oh, come on.” She nudges his side with her elbow. “Too much time with Yukhei is making you go all Casanova.”

“Please. I’m not in Yukhei’s level.”

“Thank God.”

In a cramped little bicycle with the world swishing around them, her arms wrap around his taut waist, her head lulled against his back when she takes in the scent of him, the spice that she may never forget, relishing on his softness and the way he never stops talking, sometimes in a deeper voice when he doesn’t notice. It’s purely him, the guy in the closet with her that one time years ago.

It’s H.W.

It’s not a surprise when guilt washes over her when she gets home, Kunhang not having much time for conversation as he rushes—quite late—to his next job. Upon seeing her apartment complex, she looks down at her phone, seeing a notification from the website he created.

Would he still reply to her if he knew it was her?

###

You know that game people play before graduation, a little bit before prom? Most likely to become president or to get married? Well, Yangyang should’ve won the title ‘most likely to become high on one sip of caffeine but still be goddamn addicted.’

Fits him like a glove.

Fresh coffee beans, Styrofoam cups, wiped tables and soft jazz, Kunhang has learned the art of caffeine against his will. With his eyes half closing, he tries not to pour down the coffee that he is serving Yukhei’s roommate this early in the morning. With his apron digging into his stomach, his hair done a mess and his eyelashes fluttering against his under-eyes, he feels like Yangyang is another kind of specimen. If his guesses are not wrong, Yangyang may have not even slept the entire night.

The balls of his feet make him move back and forth by the time Kunhang turns around, the barista is midway through a yawn when he scribbles a quick heart on top of Yangyang’s coffee and sends it over his way.

“You look horrible,” Yangyang spits out, thankfully the last in line. With relaxation filling his bones, Kunhang rests his elbow on the counter, head lulling to the side while delicately closing his eyes. “Maybe, you should start tidying up. My roomie is about to get here any second.”

With pursed lips and a tired scoff, Kunhang replies: “Why would I give a shit about what Yukhei thinks? He’s seen me this tired since forever.”

But Yangyang is smart, with his cat-like smile, pushed back hair and oversized hoodie, he doesn’t look like a nightmare, but he goddamn right is intuitive and a headache, much more when he spits out her name and has Kunhang straightening his back, looking around the room in suspicion.

“Guilty as charged, I see.”

“T—That doesn’t mean a thing.” Kunhang tries to chuckle, shrugging his shoulders in the process. “I’m just not used…to looking bad…in front of people who are not my closest friends?” His voice sounds like a goddamned question. Fuck, why can’t he simply sound more relaxed?

Truth is, he has one of those bad cases of underthinking. When all he can think about is one person. These past few weeks, he has checked that goddamned website, with the little time he has left, and he has looked forward to talking to Loveless Anon. For, it feels like he is talking to her, and that kind of connection has never come around.

He’s a coward. He kissed her in a closet during the lamest game in the world and he could never ask her out. Partly because he expected her to say something, admit that it was a good kiss and wasn’t like the others, and another part of him was just a tad bit scared. Of the awkwardness, for example, that could come in their friend group and with Yukhei if they just happened to see each other that way and break up.

“So, the myth has it—” Yangyang takes a sip of his drink. “That you two kissed when you were like seventeen.”

Kunhang’s eyes settle on a figure at the far distance, bustling laughter and clapping hands of men making him frown. Isn’t that Leo…? He returns his gaze to Yangyang. “Who told you that?”

“You know, like, that one time last Christmas when we got stuck at the campus and you were, like, drunk off your ass?” Kunhang nods. “I asked you who was a better kisser between two girls you dated and you told me her name, and she wasn’t even in the list.”

“I was drunk.” Kunhang tries to chuckle the matter away.

“So, she wasn’t a good kisser?” Yangyang waves his eyebrows on his forehead, up and down. “Or should I test it myself just so we have a reaction out of you and you finally ask her out? Because you’re hot, she’s hot. Hot plus hot makes hotter.”

The older man shakes his head, pondering if he should go to that goddamned table that included Leo and his friends. He’s not sure if he wants her to see him, so it’s better to simply attend them and get them out of the way. Running his hands over his apron, he walks away from his spot behind the counter.

“That actually makes two hot. Hot plus hot makes two hot, not hotter.”

“Nerd talk doesn’t get the girls, bro.” Yangyang conquers with a wave of his hand.

“Oh, and you’re not kissing her.”

With a scrunched-up face and a faked gag, he nods. “Of course, I won’t. I’ve heard that woman fart, I’m not sure if I see her that way, or any way.”

“You really expect your future partner not to fart in front of you?”

“I expect them to make me fall in love hard enough for me not to care about their stinky farts.”

He laughs, patting Yangyang’s shoulder before speaking. “Listen, Leo is right over there and I hadn’t even noticed. Now, I want you not to let her inside if she gets here. I don’t want her seeing that dude.”

For a second, Yangyang’s brown eyes widen before catching a glimpse of the man by the table before nodding. “You’ve got it. We’re distracting her and making mortadella out of his dick.”

“Not really.” Kunhang spits out, but he points at his friends. “But I like your way of thinking.”

Very rarely does Kunhang feel petrified, in spot, as if the world around him is going miles per minutes and he’s stuck in half a mile. His chest contracts when he gets his notepad out of his pocket, only to hear the obscenities that left Leo’s lips, a smirk forever plastered on his face.

“You should’ve seen her face when I was fucking her.”

He listens, loud and clear, every little detail that Leo presumably fakes, that boosts his ego and have his friends leaning on the table to hear about him from up close. The man barely looks up from the menu on his hands or stops talking about the ‘little noises she made’—his words, not Kunhang’s—when he recognizes the man in front of him. Barely concealing his grin, he continues speaking.

“She doesn’t look like the type.” One of his friends says, laughing in the most obnoxious of ways as he folds the sleeves of his red t-shirt for the umpteenth time, all in hopes of showing his muscles. “But atta boy, you got to fuck her in less than a month. Congrats.”

Maybe, he should’ve thought rationally. He could lose his job for what he does next…but who is he kidding? This is the rational thing to do. Take the used coffee cup on one of the abandoned tables, pull the back of Leo’s shirt away from his neck and soon after, pour the entirety of the sipped on, cold, perhaps rancid coffee down his shirt to hear him gasp and pull away from the table with a harsh tug.

There is goes.

Revenge and karma are fucking dating, and for a reason.

“Oh no. No. No. No.” He swears he hears Yangyang saying when he gets closer, but Leo, with his taller height, has already grasped the front of Kunhang’s shirt, breathing a little too closely.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Cooling you off.” Kunhang replies, quirking one of his eyebrows in the process. “You were getting a little horny out of your spank-bank imagination, so I needed to stop your shit.”

Before Leo could push him backwards, his fist goes forward, knocking him on his sculpted abdomen before pulling away. “Is this what this shit is about?” He questions, though when he lifts his hand to hit Kunhang, he swats it away with ease. Too much muscle, not a lot of strength. “You’re angry I fucked your friend?”

Yangyang takes this moment to butt in. “I’m not the type to fight but you definitely didn’t fuck her.”

“You were there?”

“I know you didn’t.” Kunhang replies for Yangyang, though it’s more of a prayer. If this man ever dared lay a finger on her, he’s going to lose his mind. Maybe, because someone like him shouldn’t have kissed her on the first place. “Man, everyone who saw you with her could tell that she wasn’t really into you. Get over it.”

A punch lays on Kunhang’s cheekbone, burning bright and hurting the slightest, his hand coming to the side to cradle the pained skin. “What do you fucking know?”

With the doors of the café opening and some customers still gaping at them, he hears the sound of someone getting closer, a low voice adding:

“Now I know enough.” And from the way she speaks, Kunhang could only curse at himself for what she saw. A beanie rests on her head, her face stoic, the rest of her clothing comfortable and ready for a coffee meeting with her roommate, but that had to be ruined by this asshole. “You didn’t fuck me, and I’m so thankful I decided not to do anything else with you. So, you can talk all the shit you want about me, I don’t care. Tell everyone about what we didn’t do or create a fucking story, but don’t you dare lay a hand on him again, you get me?”

Shivering from the cold brewed coffee on his back, Leo says: “You are insane!”

“Well, yeah, now you know my second name.”

“Out.” Kunhang says, pointing at the door, skin tainted on his cheekbone, hurting like a madman. Maybe, he spoke about Leo’s strength quite too soon. “Out of my establishment right now.”

“Whatever.” Leo spits out, picking up his backpack before pointing with his chin towards the door. “Let’s go, boys.”

By the time the doors open and close behind the group of men, wheels of his car whirling at his high speed, he hears Yangyang clapping his hands once before saying, in the softest tone:

“Who would’ve thought dumbass Wong Kunhang had it in him to be badass?”

Scoffing, she turns to look at Kunhang, sitting him down where Leo had taken place on pink leather accompanied by a white table before inspecting his face with soft fingertips. He really tries his hardest not to concentrate on her face, her tainted lips and sweet eyes when she studies his features.

“That’s not badass. That’s stupid.” She conquers, opening her bag and getting a cloth out before talking to Yangyang. “Bring me some water. It must be killing him—”

Saluting her, Yangyang hums. “On it.”

“It wasn’t stupid.” Kunhang hisses when she digs her fingers onto his cheekbones, palping around. “That asshole was lying about you and I couldn’t handle it. I’m sorry, but with how much it takes you to trust someone and how much you pressured yourself to like him, I didn’t think it was fair for him to treat you as if you were a toy. I don’t think it’s okay.”

Silence falls upon her, only opening her lips when Yangyang brings her a bottle of water. Somehow, the youngest understands to get away from the situation, not the annoying one by the time she pours some water on the cloth and presses it to Kunhang’s bruised skin.

“Did you believe him?”

Kunhang shakes his head. “No.” He denies softly, hissing at the pain. “But even if you had done something with him, that doesn’t give him the benefit to talk about it as if it wasn’t something you two did. As if most people don’t get involved in shit like that. No one cares—”

A little smile tugs at the corner of her lips, pushed away by her worry. “And the coffee stain?”

“I poured coffee on him.”

“Why?”

“He was talking on detail and hearing all those guys thirst over you in that light. I don’t know…” Kunhang looks over to the side, a chuckle leaving his lips. “Not that I hope no one feels attracted to you, I know a lot of people do. I sure hope you get, at least, twenty guys in your DM’s every time you post a picture because it’s the hype you deserve…but I don’t want, you know…”

“You don’t want what?”

“I don’t want you to date just whoever.” Kunhang finalizes, raising his hands in the air. “But it’s not my call and I have to accept it, because I want your utmost happiness above all…but come on? A gym rat that talks about sex and hitting it from the back even if you were absolutely repulsed to kiss him? You can do so much better—”

The moment she wraps her arms around him, he doesn’t expect it. Truth is, every action of her being tugs at his heart strings in ways that he can’t understand. The warm nature of her hug when she rests her chin on his shoulder and rests her hands on his back has his own arm coming upwards, engulfing her and resting his fingertips on her head.

“You’re not meant to be my knight in shining armor, you know?”

“I don’t mean to be that.” Kunhang whispers, pulling away to tenderly trail his gaze over her face. “I know you can take care of yourself perfectly fine. Jump into some old lady’s house on the way, too.”

“…You’re such a fool.” Rolling her eyes, she lets her thumb trail over his cheekbone. “And a cute fool, but now you look like Prince Charming after getting on the boxing ring with Canelo Alvarez.”

“I stopped listening after cute.” Batting his eyelashes, Kunhang stands up at that moment. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to continue working. May I know, our beloved customer, what your coffee order for today is?”

Fixing the hoodie over her head, she pouts out her lips when saying: “Cinnamon coffee, please? And one for you, too. You look exhausted.”

Someone please put a wall up before she gets to his much-too-busy life and heart.

###

The world falls from her eyes, tired beyond what she could express, entering her last year of her psychology major and still, feeling unprepared. Maybe, that’s the endless minds of adults—losing confidence with each step they give into forever. Her fingers rake through her hair with the light of Yukhei’s laptop casting over her face as she reads through the last version of his shared project with Kunhang.

And maybe, in this room, she feels a bit guilty—divided in a way that she can’t quite explain. She’s not doing anything wrong, but connecting with Kunhang only through a website makes her feel ridiculous. Maybe, here where she is sitting, reading the conclusions, she starts to think there would have been no way for Kunhang to talk to her had it not been under a pseudonym and somehow, it’s the harshest pill to swallow.

Closing her eyes tightly, she taps her finger against the last sentence of the document before humming. “Proud of you, giant.” She says, voice as dulcet as it can be when treating with her roommate, turning to him with a faint smile on her features. Yukhei rests against the doorframe of her room, sporting some plaid pajamas and his blonde hair done a mess. “It’s good. You took the corrections I gave you and wrote a nice project, and the conclusions are great—”

“Did you read Kunhang’s?” He questions, her grin faltering the slightest.

She did, indeed. While Yukhei had concentrated on issues according to unemployment and how it affected people’s social lives, Kunhang had gone straight for love and how pressuring it feels for young adults to find the love of their lives.

Maybe, Loveless Anon had something to do with that.

“I read the entire project. Can’t wait for you guys to get the best grade.”

“That’s not what I’m asking, dummy.” Yukhei gets closer to her, kneeling in front of her computer seat before tugging at the edge and pulling her away from the desk. He needs her utmost attention, as it seems. “You want me to believe, me Wong Yukhei, that you’re not that Loveless Anon that Kunhang has been talking to for the past two months ago?”

Trying to look for an answer, she comes with the smallest one, barely let out through her half-parted lips. “So, what about it?”

Yukhei widens his eyes at that. “Oh shit, I was right.”

Well, there goes Yukhei guessing and doing it right for once. “…You were guessing.”

“And, I guessed right. I am really not as dumb as people think I am.” Yukhei chuckles at his own words, patting his hand against her knee. “So, when are you going to confess it all to him? Like, in one of those coming-of-age movies that we see or in those Hong Kong romance movies where—”

“Never.”

“What?”

Perhaps, Yukhei thinks of this as a movie. That romances in college last, or that either of them has the time to actually date each other. Not only that, but her own cowardly nature that had preferred to write under an anon name rather than talk to him in the way they did two months ago.

She once learned probabilities, she really did—and while she can read people, she can read situations even better. Kunhang and herself are not probable; they are not a match made in heaven and neither can they be friends. Not after that kiss. Not because they have a friend in common, Yukhei in this case, that would be absolutely devastated if he lost one or the other.

“Listen, it’s going to be weird because…I don’t know, I guess the letters feel a bit obvious about me flirting with him and—”

“And, so what?” Yukhei questions, his hands coming up to his hair when he stands up to pace back and forth. “Throughout the entirety of these two months, you’ve questioned yourself for never being attracted enough to a guy, for never wanting a guy as much as they want you but now, for the first time in years, you are interested in a guy whom you’ve kissed and you’d kiss again. Shit, why the hell aren’t you telling him and testing the waters?!”

“It isn’t that easy.” Closing the Word document with Yukhei’s project, she turns to look through the PDF book she should be reading for a class. “What if he’s not interested?”

“Oh, trust me. Kunhang thinks you’re hot.”

“That isn’t enough, Yukhei.” Though, heat fills her face once she rests her palm on her cheek, trying to hide away from her best friend. “What if he doesn’t want the same thing I do?”

“Then, you can say you tried.”

For a moment, those words repeat inside her head, with the memories—though definitely in group of friends—in between the two and the smiles shared, but she shakes her head before she can think of it any further.

“Thanks for the concern, Yukhei, but I’d rather pluck all of my eyelashes out than go through the embarrassment of being rejected by Kunhang. Bye.”

“He’s not going to reject you.” He tries to reason. “But if he did, then he’s the one losing you. Not you losing him.”

Even through it all, the hardships of college, the stress of adulthood, she can say she has someone taking care of her.

“I said bye, giant.”

“I’m not—”

“I’ll delete your Word document with your entire project if you don’t leave, Yukhei.” She adds, with humor in her tone. “And I know you don’t back your shit up.”

When he opens the door to leave, she hears a faint whisper leaving his deep voice: “You’re evil, woman.”

###

The air around his lungs feels less constricting when seated on that table in his social science class, grasping his last test in between his fingers, his project revised and approved by the professor, ending up on second place in the entire class.

This is the grade that could make him pass.

Or, alternatively, that could mean more money for university.

Kunhang has always prided on the fact that he’s confident, but with shaky fingertips and weaving eyes, he doesn’t know what to think about. Dejun’s face has softened sufficiently, meaning he has done well and of course, star of the class—somehow—Wong Yukhei is not worried.

“Come on, man.” Yukhei pats his hand against the back of his head, harsher than intended. “It’ll be fine. You’ve stupid like crazy.”

And that’s what scares him. For the first time, Kunhang has put his all and a bit more, waiting for the best outcome, but by the way his stomach twists and turns, his mind lightweight, it’s impossible for him to pass this class. No matter how hard he works, Mr. Sam wouldn’t be nice enough to grade him properly.

“Yeah, I guess.” Kunhang mumbles, turning the page around until it meets his gaze, like a glass of cold water falling on his face and awakening him. The most beautiful moments of life are not those who are perfect, but when his head felt like it was underwater and he managed to rise again.

Eighty.

Kunhang got an eighty in his last test.

“I fucking passed!” The smile on his face reads a thousand shades of sunshine when he plasters the exam down on the desk and brings his hands up his features, upwards towards the strands of his brown hair.

He can breathe again.

###

From: Min Chaeryeong.

Come pick me up at Dejun’s place.

Just broke up with him.

That asshole.

Never again, girl. Never again.

Romance movies paint it so beautifully. There’s a beginning, a limitation, a resolution and an end—well, a prolongated end in the form of happily ever after. What they never expect is for the secondary character to be rushing through the streets in order to get to Dejun’s place, looking for her best friend who had been on a long relationship only for it to end in an abrupt night of July, with a text that worries her to bits and pieces.

Her hair swishes with the movement of her hands opening the entrance door, greeting some of the students in the apartment complex before going up the set of stairs. Sneakers clanking against the tiles after coming from her workplace, her stomach roars in hunger and yet, she can only worry about Chaeryeong. Would she be crying endlessly? She knows, better than anyone, that Chaeryeong and Dejun love each other, or used to, at the very least…but if they can’t work together, then so be it.

She pulls the hood of her white sweater off her head, knocking on Dejun’s door a few times only to come up with silence. Her ear presses to the orange wood, wanting to listen to, at least, the whisper of the aftereffects of a fight, but it’s silent. Could they have gone somewhere else?

Her phone slips out of her pocket when she writes back.

To: Min Chaeryeong.

Chae, I’m here.

Where are you?

What happened?

Open the door.

From: Min Chaeryeong.

It’s open.

I’m in the closet with Dejun.

Come pick me up before I slice his nuts in half.

Okay, now that is a sign for her to open the door as quickly as she can.

The handle slides from her fingertips quickly, managing to take off her shoes in a swift motion before walking through the elongated hallway. None of Dejun’s roommates are anywhere to be around, not even his dog, Bella, but she does know where the closet can be found. Third door on the right, next to Dejun’s room.

Picking up Chaeryeong after staying over at Dejun’s place had been normal occurrence more than once, after all.

Maybe, it’s the worry for her two friends, the aspiring voice full of ambition that tells her she can save the day, but she opens the door of the closet. Darkened walls and not a single light in sight, the cramped space welcomes her body, door swinging closed behind her until she hears a small whine in a manly voice, a man standing up just when he hears the door closing.

“No!” But by the movement the visitor made—clearly Kunhang, now that she hears his voice—, caused for his chest to be pressed to hers, his left arm extending to stop the door from closing a little too late. Well, Kunhang is here, but—

“Where are Chae and Dejun?”

Kunhang pulls away at that, crossing his arms over his chest, glimmers of sweat dancing across his forehead and temple before sighing. “They’re in the other room, celebrating their anniversary by playing some fucking prank on us but for some reason, they locked me up in here and said you’d come in any second. The handle doesn’t work from the inside.”

“Fuck!” She curses, trying the handle out just when she hears Kunhang plop himself down on the flooring. “Why would they lock us in here?”

This sounds oddly familiar, and by the way Kunhang tugs at the collar of his shirt to wave some air towards himself, they could fry themselves from the heat here. “I have no idea.”

A knock on the door makes her look up, only to hear Dejun’s voice. “Because you two have something to tell each other and—”

“Chaeryeong, Dejun, you either get us out of here or I swear I will kick this door down!” Knowing the reason why she is here doesn’t make her feel any better. All of this just for her to admit that she’s Loveless Anon? Not a chance. She won’t stay here to make a fool of herself or die in the process. “Are you fucking out of your minds?”

“Well, everything with you guys has always started with a closet, so.” Chaeryeong is so dead for doing this to her— “I’ll give you seven minutes. If nothing happens, well, we’ll quit and accept we are just being stupid. If something happens, you’re welcome.”

“Chae!” Banging her fist against the door, she doesn’t hear anything else more than footsteps and the start of a timer, making her sigh deeply.

“Something to tell me?” Kunhang questions, voice low and soft before releasing a scoff. “Okay, you can tell me whatever. I won’t judge you. I just don’t want to suffocate in here because I think I’ve been here for five minutes or so and I’m—”

“I—I don’t know what to tell you!” She replies back, taking a seat next to him on the flooring before crossing her legs. “It’s really nothing. Like, it’s not a big deal.”

Turning to her, face closer than ever, he sighs through his nostrils. “They think it’s a big deal. So, it should be…”

“Listen, it’s…” With the scent of him engulfing her and her heart racing inside her chest, she thinks about how much of a coward she has been. Closed up and pulling away from him, even not saying anything to him that one time they kissed years ago. It was as if it didn’t happen, afraid of the consequences to the point she never tried to understand what that kiss meant. “You know, I’ve always…shit, I don’t know how to say this.”

“Just say it.” Kunhang laughs, using the back of his hand to wipe the sweat off his forehead. “I promise I won’t judge. Unless it’s something really bad.”

What does he consider really bad?

“I’ve been confused for years. I thought that…that I’d never like someone for a long period of time. I guess, I wouldn’t ever be interested in someone for more than a week and it made me feel like the biggest bitch. And not in the good sense,” Turning to look at him, she rakes her eyes over his features. Twinkling eyes, rosy lips and understanding nature. “So, what did I do? I pushed myself away from ever feeling like that and I would’ve been perfectly fine with it had it not been for that one time at that party when I was curious to kiss you. I did, as you can remember.”

Kunhang lets his gaze fall down to her lips, chuckling in the process. Soft. Tender. “I do, of course.”

“And this is bad, really bad, but I compared every kiss after to you and part of me always wondered, as I was kissing other men, if I would only like to be kissed by you or how could I teach someone to kiss me like you did…and I’d feel even worse.” Her voice becomes duller, fluttering eyelashes from endless blinking. “So, that night you told me it wasn’t my fault, I was curious, again. I couldn’t believe that I was still stupid enough to be hung up on you, but I couldn’t talk about this with anyone. Shit, Yukhei is one of your best friends…”

“You really thought of me as your best kiss?” Kunhang questions, pointing with his index finger towards his taut chest. She nods once.

“I really thought I could learn how to come to terms with the fact that romance and kissing isn’t that big of a deal if I just talked to someone like you. You’re so relaxed all the fucking time and…” This time around, her throat contracts, not finding the words to say. Her eyelids close tightly when she breathes out: “I became Loveless Anon, because I wanted to know your opinion about it.”

For one second, Kunhang remains silent, a house of cards that has fallen onto the weight of realization, but then, laughter comes from him, barely audible when he shakes his head.

“I knew you were Loveless Anon.”

She widens her eyes at that, inspecting his impressed features. “You did?”

“The speech was the same as yours. And you only replied at times when I know you weren’t working or studying. It had to be you. Same issues, too.” Who would have thought that Kunhang would have guessed it from the beginning? “I didn’t want to believe it at first…but when I started to reply to you more often, I just knew. Every time I pressed enter on those messages, I thought of you.”

“Holy fuck.” She whispers, covering her face with her hands as sweet laughter leaves her lips. “I was mortified, Kunhang.”

His fingertips wrap around her wrists, uncovering her face when he beams at her face “Why? Why? You shouldn’t have been stressing out about this.” He whispers, cradling both hands in between his. “I should be the one stressing out because I never said anything either—and I really liked that kiss back then, too.”

“You don’t have to say it just because I did.” She laughs, trying to shrug the embarrassment that creeps up on her away. It’s impossible for him to have thought of that kiss in a closet to be something he enjoyed, much more compared with the number of women that were in his life during college after. “It’s okay, really. You’re just a really good kisser and you should know that—”

His arm wraps around her waist, bringing her forward to rest his lips against hers, his chest to hers when he turns to left to peck her lips softly. Delicately. Her eyes are barely closed by the time he pulls away, though from the brief glimpse of light from under the door, she can see that his eyelids have denied her the benefit of looking into his powerful eyes.

What she doesn’t expect is for him to press another softer, longer peck to her lips, her hands melting against his touch and resting on his chest, curling onto his side when she’s the one to pull away this time. Her sweater becomes his axis, curled into his fist when he leans in one last time, a sharp intake of breath following his actions when he deepens the kiss, his free hand resting on her shoulder, caressing the skin over the fabric.

Her own hands end up on his long hair, lips melting against her own, dancing with fervor, necessity, yet not picking up his pace—as if he has all the time in the world and he would rather spend it with her. Her fingertips go lower, to his jawline, burning skin scalding her own, sharp under her touch when he softly breathes against her skin, a sound captured on the back of his throat.

“You’re stupid, you know that?” He says over her lips, making her chuckle before resting another peck on his skin, hiding her face on his neck soon after.

“What a thing to tell a girl after you’ve kissed her.”

“I could’ve been kissing you since way before this, but you had to make things complicated.” His fingers tingle against her skin, even when he’s still holding her waist above the thick hoodie, and when she pulls away, she hears him speak again, timbre low. “Still as good as you remembered it?”

“Just as good.”

“Not better?”

“You’re still very patient. I’ve always liked that.” She grasps his face in between her hands, looking into his eyes. “No one kisses like that anymore.”

“Is this the ‘getting the guy I’m dating’s ego as big as Jupiter’ challenge?”

Her eyebrows frown at his words, his lips dancing along her own once again, spine curved the slightest to join him in the middle before laughter interrupts their kiss. “Since when am I dating someone?”

“Oh, right now.” Kunhang’s confidence, ever-present, becomes apparent when he pats her ribcage. “You can’t just expect a guy not to want to date you, the most beautiful woman I’ve seen in a while, when you tell him he’s the best kiss you’ve ever had.” He shrugs. “You owe me four years of dates and kissing.”

“Okay, alright. Fair. You’ve got yourself a deal.”

“And we get to kiss on places outside a closet.” Kunhang stipulates. “I’m sweating my ass off.”

“That’s so romantic.” Sarcastically, she adds, only to hear keys dangling outside the closet.

“You guys have talked it out?” Dejun asks from the other side of the door, only to have Kunhang standing up, knocking on the door.

“Yeah.” He says, pressing his forehead to the door. “But you better open this door up before you have a talk with the foot that I’m going to put up your ass.”

“Alright. Talk time is over. Time to let the dogs out.” Dejun tells someone, presumably Chaeryeong, before he opens the door to the closet, not missing out on the way Kunhang wraps his arm around his neck and keeps him locked in place. “Ow!”

“Are you crazy?!”

“You two talked it out! I had to do it!”

“That was the stupidest idea you could have, Dejun.” She adds, crossing her arms across her chest. “You’ve now downgraded to the Dumber position in the trio.”

Or, the methods weren’t just the best…but at least, she can say one thing.

Wong Kunhang is still the best kisser she has gotten the chance to try.

#hendery scenarios #hendery #wayv scenarios #nct scenarios #nct #wayv #writing #wayv fluff #wayv angst #wayv au #nct fluff #nct angst #nct au #college!au #i don't know what else to add fdanjfndaj but i like this!

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dear-kumari · 3 years

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Ppl are mad that SW didn't consider yona as the ruler. Sw needs to broaden his outlook cz he rejects the gods for his personal grudge while yona accepts their power to solve problems-wtf. I don't understand their mindset. They hate kyesook for wanting to use the dragons while they hate Sw for not accepting the powers of god. Why ppl think gods in Anyverse are benevolent, saint?

Hi anon! When I first saw your message, I planned to just reply that I couldn’t see the take(s) you were talking about because I’ve probably blocked/don’t follow the OP(s); but at this point, I’ve definitely seen similar sentiments (and worse!) popping up in other places. I’ll talk about the overall argument, but before that, I want to encourage you to also block anyone making posts that trouble you. I don’t know for sure whether you’re the same anon I didn’t publish from last chapter, but regardless, I hope you can pull away from annoying discourse this way. You can’t un-see a bad take, obviously, but it’s better to curate your fandom experience and set boundaries as soon as possible. Generic advice, I know, but it helped me and I really hope it helps you. ^^

Anyway, on to The Take. I’m not gonna talk in detail about the gods’ offenses again because I think that’s a settled issue at this point; they suck, plain and simple, and the suffering they caused out of “love” for Hiryuu can’t be justified by their supposed inherent authority. Let’s also just skip your first sentence for today, anon, and instead jump into the meat of this Take — that is, that Suwon is narrow-minded and wrong for rejecting the gods’ power because of his Feelings, while Yona is superior, open-minded, and righteous for accepting the power of the gods (and any powers that will help achieve her goals, including the current political powers that make her Feel bad, which is the contrast I assume we’re supposed to be getting at here). I want to interrogate whether this idea is valid, or at least applicable to canon, and what it really advocates for when you do apply it to canon.

First, this argument is, on its face, totally and hilariously invalidated by the newest chapter, which confirms that Suwon has been interested in Zeno for pragmatic reasons ever since he learned of his ~divinely granted~ powers of immortality. Oh, sure, Suwon hates the gods over a “personal grudge” all right (and we’ll get to you, “personal grudge” in giant scare quotes), but it seems that didn’t stop him from considering putting one of Hiryuu’s own dragons on the throne. This chapter also reiterates that the dragons will be aiding Kouka as part of their military alliance, an alliance Suwon not only agreed to, but allowed Keishuk to publicly promote via the tournament. Even before, it’s not as though Suwon’s avoidance of the dragons ever translated to an out-and-out rejection, and he’s never undermined their aid. So … power of the gods, divine powers, magic, Hiryuu Shit™ — these aren’t so off-limits after all, no?

Now, I’m not saying this new, narrow-minded fanon Suwon who arrogantly rejects the power of the gods in any and all forms doesn’t sound like a super cool and valid guy; in fact, he’s probably only a few degrees removed from Suwon’s actual character and I’d gladly defend him with my life. Canon Suwon is a little more nuanced, though, because as much as he values people over gods, is traumatized by Hiryuu-adjacent stuffs, and has no interest in the dragons’ powers, he’s also an emotionally intelligent pragmatist. The dragons are right in front of him right now, and while their existence is generally problematic, they’re better as assets than as enemies or loose cannons. He’s not gonna cave to their every demand just because they’re powerful (see: when Kija tried to bait him in ch. 189), but he’s never outright rejected them. In that case, in what particular context does this argument actually have legs?

Well, I’m pretty sure this particular Fanwon emerged from ch. 203/204, specifically, in which Suwon coolly rejects Meinyan’s offer to join forces and seize the dragons from Yona (an offer he would’ve been condemned for accepting ofc), says that he’s sick of all this talk of Hiryuu, and claims that he “doesn’t need it,”* “it” presumably being Hiryuu’s existence and divine power. Those last two points are the true basis for “Suwon needs to stop rejecting the gods,” evidently — and imo, by examining these points you can see just how deceptive this argument is, that it’s actually centered around a clever rhetorical sleight of hand.

So, Suwon hasn’t been rejecting divine powers in practice; rather, he’s frustrated with the whole issue of divinity and claims he “doesn’t need” Hiryuu. To which pro-Fanwons say, Hey, that’s bad and wrong! He needs to stop being frustrated, eat his humble pie and admit he needs Hiryuu/Yona and the dragons! And like … hang on a moment. Why? Really, why? First of all, they’re already his allies and poised to fight for Kouka if necessary. The HHB are not demanding that he say he needs them, either; they just want to help themselves and the country while having some freedoms. And there’s no reason to assume the dragons’ powers are a net good that were absolutely necessary for the nation’s survival, either — I mean, besides Il being a worthless self-proclaimed “placeholder” for Hiryuu and Ruining Everything Ever, when pockets of your nation are just weird dragon cults that contribute nothing to the whole and straight-up kill outsiders for thousands of years, is there really any reason to think it’d be worse off without them …? Tangent, tangent, I know — anyway, let’s look at where this would actually be applicable. We all know the real reason Suwon would “need” Hiryuu/Yona/the protagonists: because he’d need to give up his command, his current authority, and probably the throne as well, now that he’s dying of a painful terminal illness.

Time to talk about that “personal grudge” a bit. We all remember why Suwon is dying of a painful terminal illness, right? (We also remember that he’s not the only one, right?) Again, I don’t want to have to review the gods’ awfulness all over again here and I promise that this is not just an appeal to emotion. Let’s just say Suwon’s grandpa was right and their deaths are the gods’ attempts to call Hiryuu back to heaven. What “he needs to stop rejecting/admit he needs Hiryuu/gods” really argues for, at its core, is that Suwon needs to submit to the entity killing him and humbly rely on its grace to maybe help save the nation he loves. That’s a really important distinction, too — this is not an argument that Suwon needs to be saved, but that he needs to surrender all agency and power to his killers’ agents in order to be benevolently granted one dying wish.

And that’s where the rhetorical sleight of hand comes in, the one that reveals that this contrast between Yona and Suwon isn’t parallel at all. You actually said it yourself, anon, though I’m not sure if that was intentional, verbatim from this original argument, or just a coincidence. What Suwon is rejecting isn’t the power of the gods, but just the gods; what Yona is accepting isn’t the gods, but just the power of the gods. They are not rejecting or accepting the heavens on the same, equal terms. Only one of these characters can actually choose to be empowered by the gods; the other can only choose to submit to being subjected to the gods’ will.

If Suwon submits to “needing” Yona and the HHB, he doesn’t gain “the power of the gods”; he loses what power he has, including his loose hold on the dragons, and his frustrations are never resolved. Empty throne or no, this is not an argument for Yona’s empowerment, but for Suwon’s disempowerment; it merely tries to justify itself through the false framing of Suwon as an unreasonably prejudiced man next to her. It is, at core, an argument that Suwon’s pain and striving should be rewarded with loss.

“But Yona submitted to powers that hurt her by coming to the castle!” the hypothetical pro-Fanwon cries. Quick thinking there, pro-Fanwon! Too bad that’s not how her arc pans out, nor how anyone ever wanted it to, nor at all comparable to his situation when she’s not dying painfully. Mountains are often made of the ~indignities~ she suffered, but in truth, Yona almost immediately made the current regime subject to her wants and only continues to grow in power and influence because she has the privilege of divine power. She always has the unconditional loyalty of the dragons in case things go south. If Yona cedes ground, she can always gain it back twice over; a fully disempowered, dethroned, dying Suwon would have no way back up and nothing to look forward to. This is not an issue of which one of them can display more righteous humility because again, the terms are not equal. Only Suwon is being told to give up his agency because it’s the “right” thing to do.

And … yeah, to be clear, that is totally the point. For however many people with this approximate viewpoint try to frame it with Facts and Logic about Suwon’s situation, this Take is essentially just a last-ditch justification for AkaYona becoming a vindictive revenge story. Yona won’t consciously seek vengeance on Suwon, of course, because that would be Bad; she’ll just, you know, take everything good and meaningful away from him, denying him emotional validation as he dies painfully and/or is humiliated by her righteous godliness because the universe contrived that to be her most heroic course of action! I’m sure those who really love this argument are aware of this, too. idk if they realize that framing the way a character deals with terminal illness and chronic pain in terms of pride, karma, selfishness, “personal grudges,” etc. is uhhh really fucking gross please stop!, but they definitely at least know that this is the “punishment” they want Suwon to suffer. You know, a “punishment” that he would’ve suffered no matter what he did in life, because he was born with an incurable disease caused by the same forces that give Yona unbelievable privileges as a god on earth. This is a punishment for being born sick and daring to have ambitions despite that, really. Very cool, no terrible implications to unpack there.

Now, do I think Kusanagi herself would subscribe to this false foil and use it to prop up Yona? Well, I don’t think she’d take it to its logical conclusion by killing Suwon, at least, esp. since Zeno confirmed the issue of the dragons supposedly having a ticking clock themselves. But the idea that Yona’s acceptance of divine power is somehow a great virtue compared with Suwon’s rejection of it might very well come up, because I think this mangaka is often not very thoughtful about her MC’s privileges and not very empathetic towards certain characters’ situations. I’m not here to criticize the story, though; I just wanted to give my two cents on this Take anon sent my way. In conclusion, uhhh thanks for reading if you got this far, I love you

______________

*Now, according to Little Miss, he says he doesn’t “care” why Hiryuu exists/came back, which is much tamer and has somewhat different implications. I assume the original argument is based on what the fan translation (and probably ET) says and what can be extrapolated from the rest of the chapter, that being that Suwon is tired of this divinity shit being shoved in his face all the time and finds it an unnecessary and harmful distraction from his real goals.

#Kumari answers #Anonymous #Akatsuki no Yona #Yona of the Dawn #Suwon #Thanks for the ask anon!#I wish you the best <3 #I hope that uh … well idk if it 'helped' at all but I hope it was enlightening #I hope it was easy to follow too T___T #I did not touch on half of the things that bother me about a certain attitude towards Suwon and his illness #I also didn't touch on how that Il flashback Sw keeps having implies he knows something we don't still #I wrote too much already tho so. another day. maybe.#maybe.#Long Anon: The Anon That Is Long #I tried to add a tl;dr and wasn't sure where to put it #Uhh TL;DR I didn't talk about Keishuk at all anon I'm so sorry (ur right tho)#Kumari abuses the tagging system

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dangermousie · 3 years

Text

Stuff on CFC 62-64

Amazing translators released 62-63, and someone did a 64 snippet so here we go. Yes, I am incapable of shutting up.

Chapter 62

The reason this struck me is the last phrase - his mental illness being cured without any treatment. Obviously, it has not been cured but part of his issues really is loneliness and not having someone care. He’d always be mentally ill (thanks evil org!), but if he had loving parents and proper upbringing, he’d be so much more functional and less extreme.

My theory - XQC wasn’t just beating people up and hanging out at nightclubs for kicks. He was trying to find murderers of his parents. But maybe he was around just for wild times. And then, he got into one fight too many and hurt someone so badly they got killed or seriously hurt and that is why he lives as if he’s atoning and unworthy of happiness, that is why he put such a tight leash on his emotions and personality, that is why he became a doctor, that is where all his money went (victim or the fam of same.)

He Yu, forget no straight guy thinking that - nobody who hated their bed partner and slept with them out of revenge would ever think something like this. You are GONE for him, gone!

I am dying. He Yu’s reaction:

I am sorry, He Yu did you literally just go “this guy never had gay sex so how can he say what’s gay?” Oh my GOD!

Hi there, God of Straightness!

If he was any more obsessed and gone for and thirsty...wait, it’s literally humanly impossible! It’s so interesting to me though that at his thirstiest, HY fixates on the contrast between XQC’s control in general and his of control in the club - He Yu’s obsession with shredding XQC’s control is actually something XQX needs - I mean, he needs to let go of all those control before it strangles him.

Meatbun’s very lengthy author’s note is glorious and I wish I could quote all of it but I will refrain and only point the few highlights for me:

I love Meatbun being awfully coy as to whether it will be HE or BE but mainly, what she describes - paying for mistakes - and how, is everything I crave in my fiction. Her whole doing good/right is meaningful precisely because it’s not easy is just so amazing.

And that sums up her protagonists, doesn’t it - they get redemption but they need it - they are never perfect and complete from the get-go, it’s a journey.

ILY, Meatbun! And not even for confirming that He Yu will pay but because saying plain out something so many both fandom people and actual published authors/showrunners forget. Kinks do not equal values. Something can be fun and wrong but safe to explore in fiction. Just because you like something does not make it morally right. Just because you don’t like something does not make it morally wrong.

This is literally EVERYTHING that I crave in my fiction and so rarely get. Also, “don’t succumb in the face of suffering” isn’t just CFC theme but all of her stuff, isn’t it?

Chapter 63

Not many additional thoughts but:

This confirms that he’s keeping a huge secret about why he quit being a doctor and said all that stuff and that it almost broke him. I think it DID break him in so many ways - the reason he doesn’t feel it’s painful or he’s wronged (which implies he once did, with the use of “no longer” to show us) is because he’s tried to kill himself in any way but the biological. He lives as if he’s already dead, and the dead don’t feel.

In a way, it ties to his response to blackmail in Ch 64 - he comes across as proud but he’s not really. If he was genuinely proud, he’d clear his name. He’d care about what netizens said, hell, he wouldn’t agree to sleep with He Yu to get him to leave him alone and to keep XX out of all this muck. He values himself so very little that he genuinely views sex with HY that on a conscious level he does not want as a small sacrifice so even if the reward is small, it’s worth it to avoid issues for XX. What seems like pride is actually something else - it’s a pathological desire to avoid showing weakness to anyone and of being a burden, of being vulnerable. The way he keeps his paternalistic attitude with “do x, I am right” to XX or similar is not pride - it’s his way of taking care of those he is supposed to take care of, it’s his rigid structuring of the patterns of his life. HY was even more right than he knew when he prevented him from leaving in the club by pointing out that how could he call XX for help or w/e - he would rather die or suffer anything than involve his loved ones but also anything rather than reveal weakness in front of them - something in him needs to be a wall for them, a support instead of being supported. Back in the club, he’d rather be raped by HY, a person he no longer cares about, then seek help. Because if he’s not the one supporting but the one being supported, what is the point of him? (and also I think something in him knows that if he ever fell apart in front of someone who matters, he’d find it hard to pull his shields back together.)

It’s interesting - he’s indifferent to opinions of everyone except a very small group of people, and for those people he wants to appear as strong, as authority, as protector. So many issues! (It’s a sign of the fact that he used to care for HY to some degree that HY was included in that paternalistic bossy protection, and after the club he is not any more. It’s not just HY who removed his mask, it’s XQC.)

Semi-related but I think it’s tragic that He Yu would have found it harder to push XQC into anything if he offered something that XQC thought would make XQC feel strongly but positively and happily. XQC can agree to something that he’d be numb to at best (he thinks) or suffer through at most (he thinks) but actively good things? Nope.

Chapter 64

You know, reading MTL I got that He Yu was offering himself as a replacement for XQC’s wife but I didn’t get how much! He is saying (and meaning it!) you have low drive, I can help! (like a protag of a p0rn movie :P) and then, quite desperately, ads that XQC and his wife both weren’t young but he is young so it could be different - i.e., better for XQC.

He is clearly SO jealous of XQC’s ex-wife - she’s one of the people he thinks as “showing up” when they have their locker room times - she, XX and Chen Man. The thought that XQC had sex with her, repeatedly, clearly keeps bugging him throughout chapters (hell, it bugged him in a flashback when he was a clueless 14 year old!)

With all of this, his insisting it’s just lust, and not even that, is even more!!!

Honestly, proper translation ups the degree of his desperation a LOT.

#cnovel #case file compendium #meatbun doesn't eat meat

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k-s-morgan · 3 years

Note

Hi! This isn’t an ask, but more of a rambling that I deemed too long for the comments, that stems from your post claiming Book of Circus as your favourite Black Butler episodes. and to that I say - YES. Book of Murder is a masterpiece. It houses one of my favourite scenes - the one where Sebastian says: "This wasn't a scenario decided by God or fate, but one decided on by my master, with timing decided by my master. I was killed by the criminal expected by my master, by the Hione who came to torment my master", which really captures the essence of whole 'Ciel vs God' dynamic that's woven into the duration of the show.

Throughout the plot, there are three major instances in which an offering is made to Ciel - offerings of redemption. The first is from Angela - a chance to purify himself and have an afterlife - which he so vehemently rejects in the knowledge that he quite literally *is* his darkness, and therefore refuses to rid himself of it.

The second is comes from Abberline in his death, where in his final words he tells Ciel he has a chance to take back his future. And Ciel has to watch him die with the knowledge that he has already made up his mind about his fate. I don't think he's so affected because he regrets selling his soul. I don't think he suddenly wants to live, or no longer wishes for revenge. But I believe the reason he is so affected by Abberline's death is because he holds a sentimentality for him that is not dissimilar to the one he feels for Elizabeth. Ciel is cruel, I don't think he regrets the steps he has taken to get to this point, nor the ones he knows he must take in the future. But though he is cruel, I believe he has a sort of fond curiosity for the untainted goodness that characterises those like Abberline and Elizabeth. Like you said before, he feels condescension towards the man perhaps due to the naivety his blind heroism implies, but I think his attachments to him come from an underlying curiosity to see if such goodness can exist in such a corrupted world - a silent hope to be proven wrong in his cynicism. When Abberline dies, that very hope he didn't even know he had gets shattered. It brings about a sort of forced perspective that makes Ciel question himself in ways we haven't seen before.

Abberline's death had been avoidable and it was certainly in vain. Abberline had died for someone who had already made up his mind - someone who had rejected God once before and would do it time and time again as proven in the anime. Ciel is such an interesting character because, although he is dark, he still values the light and makes some sort of effort to preserve it in spite of the contempt he feels for them. It is the thought of dying in vain that seems to bother him so greatly, not death itself. No, Abberline dying isn't enough for him to want to live again, or to even think about throwing away his revenge - that was never in question. But it is enough to extinguish the lingering flicker of hope he had for humanity (despite being so distanced from term himself).

This, combined with the disappointment he feels at Sebastian's actions, causes the existential haze of uncertainty that leads to the third and final offering. And the most surprising thing is that this offering comes from Sebastian himself. He senses the doubt in Ciel and, like every thought the boy experiences, fails to understand it. He mistakes it for him second-guessing his revenge and decides to discontinue their contract. But he isn't angry - that much is clear. Instead, he wishes him to "forget everything and have pleasant dreams", with a rather wistful expression on his face. What this line ends up reading as is a bittersweet goodbye from the demon - an offering for Ciel to let go of his revenge and find happiness in the afterlife with his now soon approaching death. There is almost a strong disappointment in him, but is not resentful of it - Ciel is human and he can't keep expecting him not to be. His offering almost acts as a thank you for the moments of excitement their contract had given his monotone life and I believe that is why he makes it.

He sticks around to see if Ciel accepts his offer, though already expecting him to, and is there to witness the very moment the boy rejects it. Gone is the uncertainty of Abberline's death and the Paris crisis, and Ciel, the Earl of Phantomhive, returns to him - sharper, colder, more ruthless than ever. Sebastian realises his misjudgement and returns to his side, ready for the final battle. Killing an angel. It's laughably symbolic.

The rejections of God, the evasion of the Hope Diamond's curse (where he even wore two rings as if to taunt the fates), the references in Book of Murder - they all depict this metaphorical sort of battle between Ciel and God. And the ending of Kuroshitsuji II is the depicts how he triumphs over fate, claiming his rightful place as an immortalised creature of Hell.

I know I've gone on a bit of a tangent here in your inbox, but that one quote from Book of Murder is so symbolic to me in the way it sets up the comparison between Ciel and God (in which 'God' represents power over fate).

Before I sign off, though, I just want to make light of the existence of the show's final offering, occurring in the last few minutes of the series. This last offering has nothing too do with God, nothing to do with any complex battle between the Phantomhive and fate, but is much simpler than that. In fact, the final offering of the show comes from Ciel, and he gives it to Sebastian - it's almost poetic, is it not?

"Are you sure you don't want to pull it any tighter?"

In this single, unassuming line, Ciel is asking Sebastian if he wants to kill him, and release himself from the eternal contract they've found themselves in. Such a noble and dignified soul as Ciel would always be sure to make through on his word and, despite the loophole that now extends their contract, he would still be willing to let Sebastian kill him should he wish to do so. The man may no longer be able to take his soul, but the boy can still give the order to kill him and free himself. Ciel's respect for Sebastian is complex and contradictory at times, but what never changes is his willingness to die by his hands and see through to his side of the contract.

“Is it over? The one who plunged me into bottomless darkness… I don’t even know why she did it.”

In the episode where Angela is crushed by the Church, Ciel offers his soul to Sebastian. Even when unsatisfied with the result, his unwavering nobility led him to make good on their deal and fulfil his end of the contract. The earl faced the demon, his expression calm, and with a steady voice said “A promise is a promise. Take it.”

This unwavering dignity and nobility he holds in himself I believe is the reason for this offering and Sebastian's turn to reject it is almost a 'love confession' (as you have brought me to see it) in itself.

As a final sort of note - I just wanted to let you know that, since reading your reply to my comment on TGSTLTH (from a while ago), I brought myself to rewatch Kuroshitsuji II with your interpretation in mind and ended up really enjoying it. You've singlehandedly made me do a complete 180 on a season I previously hated - looks like I had just watched it from the wrong perspective. So, for that, I thank you

Hey! Sorry for getting to your ask just now. I absolutely loved it :D And yes, Book of Murder is a masterpiece - I still remember watching it for the first time. It was late at night, I had to go to bed, everyone was sleeping, but I kept watching because stopping just wasn't an option, I had to know what happened next.

Ciel vs God is such an interesting topic. In some ways, Ciel and Sebastian exist in their own universe where there is no place for anyone else. There is a God aka Ciel and a demon aka Sebastian. And they are both allies and adversaries at the same time - they are tormenting each other and uniting to torment others.

I agree absolutely that Ciel holds a fondness for certain people, with Lizzy and Abberline being a good example. He has a degree of contempt and irritation for them, but they do mean something to him. Ciel's curiosity is a big and detached thing, and this places him on Sebastian's level in such an interesting way because sometimes it's almost like Ciel isn't human himself - humanity intrigues him as if he doesn't belong to it. His fascination with the light just underlines his affinity with the darkness.

I have many thoughts about Ciel's behavior during the days following Abberline's death, and you certainly introduced many excellent points! My general opinion on Ciel's motives is... complicated. I agree that he never felt like really giving up his revenge and trying to live a 'happy' life - he knew it's not for him at that stage already. However, I feel like Abberline's parting words affected him a lot, even if briefly. When Abberline tells him that he can start everything from the beginning, Ciel sounds absolutely heartbroken when he confesses, "I don't have a future." The way he acts later, telling Sebastian to stop and not kill the angel, hesitating, reinforces this idea to me. I think you described it best - Ciel is having an existential crisis. It's not like he suddenly regrets his decisions, but he's temporary unanchored and unsure what he wants and what he should do. Having a dream where Abberline urges him to give up his hatred also seems to affect Ciel, but it's so telling that he wakes up and immediately says, "Sebastian." It's a fascinating arc and I can't wait to explore it.

I love your words about three offerings - so true. And I'm so happy you liked S2 when watching it from a new perspective! I used to be so confused as to why people hated it: it's not perfect, but I thought it was amazing in many ways, especially its bittersweet ending.

#black butler #sebaciel #ciel phantomhive #sebastian michaelis #my fics

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harley-sunday · 3 years

Text

This is Where I Leave You

Summary: What was supposed to be a simple mission turns out to be a matter of life and death.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader [unnamed OFC (loosely based on Firestar)]

Warnings: ANGST. Character death. Language.

Word count: 5.9k

AN: Not sure why but I was in the mood for some angst last week and so here it is. It is somewhat inspired by Flashpoint S02E14 for those of you who know that show, but it takes place in that wonderful Marvel fanfic Universe where everyone lives at the compound/in the tower and Friday night’s are for Tony’s parties. I’m sure you know the one. I apologize in advance and yes, I did cry while writing this, so…

♥

Flashbacks in italics

In for seven, out for eleven.

It’s almost like a mantra stuck on repeat in your head, a distraction that only works half of the time.

In for seven, out for eleven.

In for seven, out for-

All of a sudden something moving in the treeline catches your eye and you squint against the sun to try and figure what it is and if you should alert Steve.

Steve, who’s on his knees at your feet, quietly working away and completely focused on the task at hand, although you can tell from the tense muscles in his back and the beads of sweat crowning his hairline that there’s probably a war going on inside of him. You wonder what he’s thinking right now and if he also feels like the weight of the world has been dropped on his shoulders.

Something steps out from in between the trees then and you let out a sigh of relief when you see it’s just a deer and her two fawns foraging for food. You watch them as they continue their journey, the fawns trailing behind their mother as if they’re connected by an invisible string, completely unaware of the two humans that are not even fifty yards away. You know the direction of the wind is in your favor, a brisk breeze kissing your face every now and then, a welcome relief from the sun that’s burning your cheeks, but even so you are amazed at how invisible you can become if you just stand still.

Your watch beeps then, scaring off the animals and letting you know another minute has passed. Like he did at every other minute mark, sixteen of them now in total, Steve looks up to check on you.

“You ok?”

“Yeah,” it comes out a little shaky and the tears that have started to form in your eyes are not helping to convince him. You try to smile, “Guess I should have taken a better look at that waiver Tony made me sign when I first joined, huh?”

“Rogers,” Tony says as he takes your elbow and guides you to where Captain America is standing, alone, in front of the large windows that make up the entire west wall of Tony and Pepper’s penthouse, his hands in his pockets and his back to the crowded room.

He turns around just as you and Tony reach him and you wonder if the serum has enhanced his hearing so that he can hear you approach him even over the murmur of the crowd that’s gathered here for one of Tony’s infamous parties, but then you realize he must have seen your reflection in the window he was staring out of.

“Cap,” Tony says as he gently pushes you forward, “I’d like you to meet our newest recruit.”

You can see Cap’s eyebrows knit together as his eyes land on your face but before you can say anything Tony beats you to it.

“Don’t look at her like that, she’s still a good, what-” he shrugs, “-sixty years younger than you.”

You throw Tony a look, “Sixty-eight, thank you very much.”

“Whatever,” Tony says with a very elaborate roll of his eyes.

You shake your head and try to ignore him, instead holding out your hand and introducing yourself.

“Steve Rogers,” Steve replies with a hesitant smile, his eyes moving from you to Tony as if he’s trying to figure out your history.

“Yeah, so uh, she’s a nuclear engineer but as we all know-” Tony nods to his left where Bruce is sitting at the bar, “-sometimes experiments fail, you know, liquids get mixed up, nasty stuff. So now Firestar over here can produce radiation and light, and can absorb and manipulate energy. Pretty nifty, if you ask me, but then again-”

“Tony-”

“You know what, fine,” Tony says with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I just came here to introduce you to Cap since he wasn’t here for the official introduction earlier this week.” He turns to Steve then, “Told you she’d be a delight.”

You shake your head at Tony, “Please go away.”

Tony fakes being shocked, hand to his chest as he says, “Remind me to write you up for bad behavior, Sparky,” before he salutes the two of you and disappears.

“Asshole,” you mutter quietly as you watch him make his way across the room. When you turn back you find Steve staring at you with a questionable look in his eyes. You’re quick to explain, “I know him from before all of this-” you hesitate but then you hold up your hand and snap your fingers, creating a tiny spark, “-happened. We worked together on some projects in the past and when he found out about the “incident”-” you air-quote the word, “-he contacted me and told me there would always be a place for me here.” You smile, “I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’ve known him long enough to know he can be a real pain in the ass sometimes.”

“Hmm,” Steve agrees, although he doesn’t comment on it any further. Instead he nods towards the other people in the room, his hands back in the pockets of his pants again, “Everyone treating you ok so far?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “it’s nice to be here.” It’s true. Ever since the incident at the lab you’ve felt like an outsider, felt people could tell there was something wrong with you, but not here. Here people are kind, not just interested in your powers but in you as a person, and honestly it’s like a weight has lifted off your shoulders.

“Good.”

You open your mouth to say something but it’s then your watch beeps, letting you know it’s time to get back downstairs. “I’m sorry,” you look up at Steve, “I have some things I need to do in the lab.” You pull a face, “Probably best not to mess up five months worth of experiments in my first week here, right?”

Steve chuckles, “Probably not, no.”

“So,” you try to smile, “I guess this is where I leave you.”

After another three minutes have passed you risk a quick glance down and see Steve’s still trying to clear the dirt surrounding your foot, his movements as controlled as possible, trying not to touch the box you’re standing on. When you look up again you do the same thing you’ve been doing for the past ten minutes or so and start listing off the things that are in your field of vision.

“Tahoe on my left,” you whisper, “an iron gate in front of it, three barracks to my right, all their doors open.” You let out a staggered breath, “The tree line in front and behind me, and a mother deer and her two fawns wandering around somewhere.”

“Steve at your feet,” he says then, looking up at you with a weak smile, “trying to get you out of this mess.”

“This is going to be one hell of a debriefing, Cap,” you try, but your voice catches on his name and when you try to smile you feel yourself failing.

“I don’t understand, Nat.” You let out a frustrated sigh and throw your gym bag on the floor, “Why does he have to be such an asshole?”

“He’s not-”

“He tells me to watch my language like I’m a fuckin’ sixteen-year old kid,” you hold up your hand and start counting on your fingers, “he makes me write the reports after every mission we go on and then ever since last month, he wants to meet up so we can debrief but it’s always just the two of us, whoever else is on our team doesn’t have to attend for whatever reason, and then during our last mission brief he told me to be careful. Like, what the hell is that about?”

“Maybe he-”

“I have been a part of the team for over a year and all of a sudden he’s worried about me? That accident in the lab should have killed me, and let me tell you, I was ok with that. I made peace with it. But instead of dying I can now produce fuckin’ radiation at any given time,” you fume, “so I don’t think breaking and entering into a high security prison to retrieve the file of one their inmates is going to me killed. I’m sorry, but no.”

Natasha throws you a look, silently asking if there’s more or if this is it. When you don’t say anything else she takes a deep breath and holds out her hands, letting you know she comes in peace, “Maybe he does those things because he likes you.”

“I- He-,” you stutter. “What?”

Natasha drops her hands and sits down on one of the benches, patting the spot next to her and waiting for you to sit down before she continues, “I’ve known Steve for a while so,” she shrugs, “I like to think that I know him, sometimes maybe even better than he knows himself.” She smiles at you then, “I see the way he looks at you when he tells you to be careful-”

You scoff, “Yeah, sure.”

“No.” Natasha shakes her head, “You want to know the reason why he wants you to write those reports?”

You shrug.

“It’s because he values your opinion more than anyone else’s,” Nat puts her hand on your arm and gives it a gentle squeeze, “and all those debriefings with just the two of you?” She chuckles, “That was my idea.”

“What?”

“Like I said, I see the way he looks at you, but-” Natasha shakes her head, “-he would never admit it. Not to me, not to you, and sure as hell not to himself. He’s lost so much already that he doesn’t even believe this is a possibility.”

“And what makes you think I do?”

“Oh come on,” Natasha nudges you with her shoulder, “I’ve seen the way you look at him too.”

“Steve?”

He stands up at the sound of your voice, so suddenly that it makes you want to take a step back, and so you curse quietly when at the very last nanosecond you realize that you can’t. Your leg’s a little shaky, no doubt a result of the conflict between the neurons your brain already fired when you wanted to move and the new neurons that were sent to intercept that message when you remembered you shouldn’t move. With a grunt you try to regain your balance while trying to make sure you don’t move your weight around too much because God knows what will happen if it does.

“Shit,” he holds up his hands to you, “I’m sorry. I-”

“Hey,” you say with a faint smile, “language.” You nod towards the Tahoe that’s parked just outside the gate, “You think you could get me a bottle of water? I’m feeling a little thirsty.”

Steve looks from you to the box and back, unsure almost.

You glance at your watch, “I’ve been here for almost twenty five minutes,” you try your hardest to smile, “I’m sure it’ll be alright.”

“Ok,” he nods, “just don’t move, ok?”

“Nope,” you say, popping the P.

“I’ll be right back.”

“Go on,” you nod towards the car, “I’m not going anywhere.” You know it is the wrong thing to say when you see him try to hide the pained look that crosses his face by turning around quickly, but you catch a glimpse of it anyway and it makes your eyes burn with unshed tears while a ragged breath escapes you. The unfairness of it all hurting you the most.

Before you have time to think about it though, your watch buzzes to let you know you have a new message from Nat, telling you to switch your comms unit over to channel two. You tap the settings on your watch and change the channel effortlessly, “Nat?”

“Hey,” her voice is kind, softer than usual, and it’s at that moment you realize this is way worse than you thought. “You ok?”

“Tell me what you know,” you reply instead, not really wanting to answer her question because you are sure that it will break you if you do.

Nat clears her throat, “We’re almost there.”

“What’s almost?”

Natasha hesitates.

“Nat-”

“Twenty minutes,” her voice is barely above a whisper.

“Fuck.” All of a sudden it’s getting difficult to breath and it feels as if someone has dropped a hundred pound weight on your chest and then punched you in the stomach for good measure.

“Just breathe,” Nat says, “please. Just,” she sighs, “don’t move and keep breathing, ok?”

It’s then you hear Steve close the car door, holding two bottles of water, “I need to go.” You let out a shaky breath, “Nat, If I don’t- Promise me you’ll take care of him?”

“Don’t-”

“Nat,” you plead, “promise me.”

“Ok,” she whispers, “I promise.”

You let him know you’re there with a soft knock on the door before you step inside, “Hey.”

“Hey,” he draws out, suspiciously eyeing the basket you're carrying.

“Uh, yeah,” you say, feeling the heat rising to your cheeks but deciding it’s better not to beat around the bush, “so today a year ago we had our first debriefing together and I thought maybe we should celebrate?”

“Hmm,” he replies while walking over to where you’ve put the basket on the table, trying to lift the lid.

“Don’t,” you say as you swat away his hand, “you’ll ruin the surprise.”

“Surely you don’t want to celebrate here?”

“Why not?” You smile, “This is where we had our first debriefing after all,” a grin then, “and every one after that.”

“Well, if you’re up for it,” he says with a smile, “maybe we could go up to the roof? I think there’s a picnic table up there, so-”

“I’d like that,” you say, reaching for the basket.

This time it’s him who swats away your hand as he grabs the handle, “Come on.”

You follow him to the elevator bay not too far from the meeting room, for once glad that he prefers to have the debriefings at night, when there’s no one else around. There’s an elevator already waiting for you and when you get inside you push the button needed, while you wait for the elevator doors to close.

When you get to the top floor and off the elevator you walk next to Steve as you make your way to the south corner of the building, to where the roof access is. Steve’s been awfully quiet ever since you stepped off the elevator and you start to wonder if this was such a good idea after all, but then you open the door that leads to the roof and you let out a gasp, “Oh,”

There’s a small platform that has four posts on each corner, with strings of lights hanging between them, casting a warm yellow glow on the picnic table that stands in the center.

You look from Steve to the scene in front of you and back, “You did this?”

He smiles, “You’re not the only one who remembered our debriefing anniversary.”

“I love it,” you tell him with a smile before you make your way to the platform. There’s a bottle of what looks like champagne in an ice bucket on the table and when you recognize the label you turn around, “How did you know?”

Steve shrugs, a mischievous smile on his lips, “I have my ways.”

“You have Nat,” you reply, suddenly remembering the conversation you had with her not even two weeks ago. She kept asking you all these random questions, like what your favorite drink was and if you preferred savory over sweet when it came to snacks. And now all your answers are on the table in front of you. “Remind me to thank her.”

“Already did,” Steve says with a grin. He motions for you to sit down and takes out the bottle of champagne, uncorking it with ease and filling up the two glasses that are on either side of the table without spilling anything.

“Captain America,” you tease, “popping champagne like it’s nobody’s business. Who knew?”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“Really?”

He just nods and hands you your glass before he holds up his own and clinks it against yours, “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” you reply, “to, uh, the debriefing crew?”

He chuckles, “To us.”

“To us.” You watch him as he sits down opposite to you, and take a sip of your champagne, relishing the way it tickles your throat. You smile then, “I know you take your first coffee of the day with milk and sugar but that every other cup after that is black. I know you like baseball more than american football even though you don’t want Tony to find out.”

“What are you-”

“I know you and Nat are like brother and sister and that you value her opinion the most.” You shrug, “I know we work well together, even though you really should stop telling me to watch my language, and-” You hesitate then and drop your gaze down to your hands.

His foot nudges yours under the table, “And?”

“And,” you draw out, “I know you like me,” you look back up at him, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks, “and I know I like you too.”

The sun’s at its highest point and you can feel yourself starting to get a little lightheaded just as your watch beeps to let you know you’ve passed the thirty-minute mark. You get ready to answer Steve’s inevitable question, but it never comes, instead there’s not but silence and it feels ominous, worrying you more than everything that has happened so far.

When you look down you see Steve sitting back on his heels, shaking his head.

“Steve?”

“I can’t do this.” He looks up at you, his eyes filled with dread “I am so sorry.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve never seen one of these before,” he nods at the box, “I don’t know how to-”

“Hey,” you tell him, holding out your hands to him even though you can’t reach him, “it’s ok. Tony will be here soon, right? He’ll know what to do.”

Steve lowers his head, not looking at you and ignoring your outstretched hands, “Yeah.”

“Steve,” you tell him, your voice much more commanding now. You wait until he looks at you before you continue, “It’s ok.” There’s a weight behind your words that you hope he understands, even if maybe he doesn’t want to.

He runs a hand over his face and straightens his back, “Ok. Let me get an update from Tony and then we’ll take it from there, ok?”

“Ok,” you agree and watch as he walks towards the gate, no doubt to keep you out of earshot. A little frustrated to be left out of the conversation you activate your comms unit, “Nat?”

“Yeah?”

“What channel are they on?”

She probably knows better than to argue with you and so she lets out a resigned, “Five point three.”

“Thank you.” Before she has a chance to say anything else you push the button needed on your watch to switch to the other channel and all of a sudden Tony’s voice comes in loud and clear over your comms unit that you wear in your left ear.

“You sure about that, Cap?”

You see more than hear Steve’s frustration from the way he’s pacing in front of the gate, “It’s a TM-38, Tony. Soviet-made. I’ve seen them in the field before.”

“And there’s no way you can dismantle it?” Tony tries again, his voice a little tighter now.

“No,” Steve says while he looks at you, the desperation in his voice matched by his pained expression.

The mission brief is simple. The HYDRA division that used the army base had abandoned it in a hurry three days ago, leaving behind a plethora of important files that you and Steve are sent out to retrieve. This morning you tried to convince Tony to delay the mission with one or two days, not particularly looking forward to spending your six-month anniversary out in the field instead of the nice little restaurant Steve promised he would take you to.

Tony didn’t budge, said he had intel that HYDRA wanted to return to collect what they could sooner rather than later and so here you are, trying to navigate through the dense Monongahela National Forest in West Virginia while Steve is driving the Tahoe that somehow got transported here on the Quinjet.

“There it is,” you point towards a stone structure on your right. The base is surrounded by tall trees and definitely looks like something HYDRA would use to hide out in. You can only see three barracks above ground, but the map Nat has given you on the flight over shows an intricate underground network of tunnels, bunkers, and panic rooms.

The room you’re interested in, however, is all the way in the back, housing about five servers full of information you’re desperate to get your hands on. There’s a laptop in your backpack to connect to the servers, and a program written by Bruce that should be able to copy the files in no time.

“Ready?” Steve asks once he’s pulled up to the gate. He looks at you with a smile and then surprises you by leaning in and giving you a kiss, “Not how I wanted to spend our anniversary, but-”

“Yeah,” you agree, for a moment allowing yourself to get lost in his eyes. Your watch double beeps then, letting you know it’s go-time and so you grab your backpack and exit the car, drawing your gun as soon as you reach the gate.

With every step you take towards the first of the three barracks it is clear that there’s no one here, the doors of all the buildings wide open and not a sound to be heard except your footsteps. You feel yourself start to relax a little and a sliver of hope starts to form somewhere, because maybe you will make it home in time for dinner after all.

The trek to the server room proves to be rather uneventful and once you’ve connected the laptop to the mainframe it only takes about twenty minutes for the files to upload. You use that time to scout the other rooms for valuable information, but come up empty-handed. Apart from the servers there’s not much they’ve left behind and you can’t help but wonder if this was all some sort of setup and if by downloading the files you’re bringing in some sort of spy-ware.

“Remind me to tell Bruce to check the files for any malware,” you tell Steve, who nods. A notification lights up on your screen then, letting you know the download is complete. You unplug the laptop and stow it in your backpack before you nod to Steve, “Ready.”

“Alright, let’s head out.”

When you finally make it outside again, you have to blink a few times to adjust to the bright sunlight that’s shining through the treetops. You’re following a few steps behind Steve as you fish a piece of paper out of your pocket, on it the coordinates for the pick-up point you’re supposed to go to, so the team can fly you back to the compound. Of course they’re programmed into your watch as well, but you like the act of taking a minute to write down the pick-up coordinates before you leave on your mission, almost like a sort of good-luck charm to remind you to make it home safe.

A quick glance at your watch tells you it’s still early enough to make it back in time for dinner and you’re just about to tell Steve the good news when a gust of wind blows the paper out of your hand. You chase after it, stepping off the path that leads to the gate and onto the soft forest floor. You almost catch it but then the wind picks it up again and for a moment you debate just leaving it, after all it’s just a piece of paper, but the information on it is too important and so once again you chase after it.

Finally it’s within reach and you stick your foot out, hoping to trap the piece of paper under your shoe before it flies off again. There’s a click resounding through the sole of your shoe once you’ve put your foot down, the surface on which you’re standing hard and not at all like the soft bed of pine needles you were walking on before. Instantly a chill runs through your spine and you try to stay in position, afraid of what will happen if you move.

“Steve?”

He must hear the panic in your voice because he turns around right away, his brows furrowed as he tries to understand what’s going on.

“I’ve stepped on something,” you try to explain, but your voice is too weak and the wind carries it away from him. You point at your ear and turn on your comms unit, before you hold up your hand to tell him to stay in position, “Can you hear me?”

“Yes.”

“I- uh,” you let out a shaky breath, trying to gather your thoughts so you can give him as much information as possible, “I stepped on something. It’s a- It’s a hard surface, almost like metal, and when I put my weight down on my foot, something underneath clicked, like-”

“Like you stepped on a pressure plate?” Steve asks, already one step ahead of you.

“Yes,”

“Steve?” It’s Natasha who comes in first, “What’s going on?”

“Rogers,” Tony barks through the comms unit, “I need a status report stat.”

“Please,” Steve pleads, his voice rough and full of emotion, “just- Just give me a second.”

You can see him tap his watch before he runs a hand over his face, no doubt trying to figure out what to do next. With a small nod, almost as if he tries to convince himself, he drops his backpack and slowly starts making his way towards you.

“Steve. Don’t” you tell him, but either he really doesn’t hear you or just pretends he doesn’t because he keeps walking.

“Talk to me, Sparky,” Tony says, his voice much kinder now. “Cap’s offline, yeah?”

“I think so, but he’s making his way towards me, Tony, I-” you look around you, “I don’t know if it’s safe. Please tell him to stop-”

“His comm’s off,”

“There must be some way to turn it on remotely, right?” There’s no reply and so you try again, “Right?”

“Fine,” Tony sighs, “but before I do I want you to know that there’s nothing we can say to stop him. You know that right?”

You lock eyes with the man walking towards you and your heart suddenly feels heavy in your chest, “I know.” When Steve reaches you, you turn off your comms unit, “So, what’s the plan, Cap?”

“I need to take a good look at it first,” Steve says as he drops to his knees, “just try to stay still, ok?”

You nod, “Yup,” and for the first minute or so you look down to try and see what he’s doing, but it messes with your balance and so instead you focus on the treeline in front of you, trying to remember the breathing exercises Clint taught you during one of your stakeouts together.

Breathe in for seven seconds, out for eleven.

In for seven, out for eleven.

Another beep, but this time you ignore the impulse to check your watch. You don’t want to know how long you’ve been here. It doesn’t matter anymore. All that matters now is making sure Steve makes it out of this alive.

“They’re five minutes out,” he says when he gets back to you.

“Ok,” you tell him, eyeing his reaction to see if he hears you over the comms unit you still have switched on. He doesn’t respond and so you figure he must have turned it off after talking to Tony, which is good. He kneels at your feet again, why you’re not sure. There’s nothing he can do. Still, it gives you a chance to check in with the rest of the team and you quietly whisper, “Team, do you copy?”

“Loud and clear,” Nat replies almost immediately.

“Same,” Tony and Bruce say at the same time, while Clint’s “Yes, ma’am,” follows a little later.

“Steve?” You wait until he looks up at you before you continue, “I think we need to consider our options here.”

“Why?” He looks confused, “The team’s almost here, they’ll know what to do.”

“And if they don’t?”

“And if they don’t,” he bites back in a tone of voice you haven’t heard before, “we’ll find another solution.”

“Steve-”

“No.” He pushes himself up and stands in front of you with his hands on his hips, “We’ll find a way.”

You hesitate, trying to find the right words, “I’m going to ask you a question and I need you to be completely honest with me, ok?”

“That depends on what you’re about to ask me, because-”

“Do you think I could absorb the energy that this thing produces?”

He shakes his head, “I don’t-”

“No,” Bruce comes in over your earpiece, sounding absolutely defeated, “I’ve run several calculations but there are way too many variables-”

“This thing is too strong,” Tony says, the desperation seeping through his voice, “before you have a chance to absorb any of it you would be-”

“-know.” Steve lets out a heavy sigh, “I don’t know enough about nuclear physics to even try to answer that question.”

“Ok,” you nod, trying to stay calm even though your heart is screaming and your stomach is twisting and turning inside of you, “but Tony and Bruce are sure they can dismantle it?”

“They said-”

“No,” it’s Bruce who speaks up first again.

“There’s no way to dismantle it safely,” Nat says, her voice low. “The Soviets purposely built it that way.”

No matter how hard you try to hide it, you are sure something registers on your face. Disbelief first, anger next because Jesus, Steve was supposed to be your happy ending, and finally acceptance, Nat’s words about not being able to dismantle the mine slowly turning into something inevitable. It’s ok, you tell yourself. You were living on borrowed time anyway.

“-they could try,” Steve says, looking at you in a way that tells you he knows something’s up. He points at his earpiece, “Your comm’s on, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you say, trying to give him an apologetic smile, but undoubtedly failing. “I’m sorry, Steve, but-” you shrug, “I just had to know.” You bite your lip to keep from crying and it’s almost as if the reality of it all has finally sunken in, “There’s nothing we can do.”

“There has to be something-”

A chorus of no’s echoes over your comms unit.

“No,” you shake your head, the tears you've been trying so hard to fight back finally spilling over, “I don’t know how much longer I can do this, Steve. My heart is pounding in my chest, my leg has been shaking non-stop for the past minute or so, if I- If I spasm right now-”

“Stop.”

“Steve-”

“Stop!” He rubs his hands over his face, “There’s got to be another way.” He turns his comms unit back on, “Bruce, what about a weight transfer?”

Bruce hesitates, “I’m not sure I-”

“The only reason the mine hasn’t exploded yet is because somehow her weight is keeping the pin in place, right?” He sounds frantic, pacing back and forth in front of you, “So what if I find something that’s the same weight and we do a transfer?”

“I don’t know, Cap,” Bruce says, “that’s really tricky. It has to be perfectly timed.”

“At least wait until we get there,” Tony suggests, “don’t go at this on your own.”

“We’re less than a minute out, Steve,” Nat offers, “please wait.”

“What about my shield, maybe-”

“Steve?” Your voice is weak, hardly audible but somehow he hears you and stops talking. “Steve, look at me.” When he does, you nod, “It’s ok.”

“What?”

“Go get your shield.” You take a ragged breath and blow it out in a small puff before you nod to the car, “Go.”

“They’re almost here,” Steve tries and you know it’s because he doesn’t want to leave you, “they can pick it up.”

“Steve,” you try again, your voice a little louder this time, “go get your shield.”

He looks from you to the car and back, unsure of what to do.

It’s then you hear the distant rumble of another vehicle approaching and you know there’s not much time left. Another deep breath, “Now.”

He furrows his brows at your command but then does as he’s told, and you let out a sigh of relief as you watch him jog to the car where he opens the trunk. He stands still for a moment, drops his head, and you can tell he’s feeling desperate and out of control. Leaving him behind hurts you more than anything else, but you know there’s no way you’ll make it out of this alive. It feels like whatever got a hold of your heart earlier tightens its grip, making you gasp for breath.

“Steve,” you tell him, your voice soft as you see him turn towards you, his shield in one hand as he closes the trunk with the other, “it’s ok. It’s time to let me go.”

You think you hear Tony whisper a quiet, “Fuck,” over the comms unit.

“I know. I’m sorry guys,” you tell your team, “but I guess we all know there’s no other way.” “Are you sure?” It’s Tony who asks you the question. You nod, even though they can’t see you, “It’s the only way.”

“It’s ok,” Nat says, her voice a little unsteady, “It’s ok. I’ll take care of him.”

“I’m gonna miss you, kid,” Clint tells you in a whisper.

“It was an honor working with you,” Bruce says, his voice catching on the last word, “I’ll keep your research going, doc.”

“You are braver than anyone I’ve ever met,” Tony admits quietly, “I won’t forget you.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, a single tear sliding down your cheek.

When you look back up you see Steve is still rooted in the same spot, disbelief written all over his face. You try to smile at him, “I love you,” a sob then, “I just want you to know that.”

Something else registers on his face then, something you recognize as the determination to make things right and you know it’s your cue.

“Let me go, Steve,” you nod to let him know it’s ok. A faint smile then as you remember the first time you met him, “I guess this is where I leave you.”

From that moment everything happens in slow motion.

Steve is running towards you, eyes wide in shock when finally he understands what you’re about to do.

You give him one last apologetic smile, and another “I love you.”

He comes to an abrupt stop just thirty yards away from you and watches you as you take one last deep breath.

It’s time to move, you tell yourself, and when the neurons fire from your brain and the muscles in your leg react you whisper a final, “It’s ok.”

The last thing you see and hear is Steve, his eyes finding yours as he quietly tells you, “It’s ok. I love you.”

#Steve Rogers Fanfic #Steve Rogers x reader #Harley Sunday x Steve Rogers #Chris Evans #Chris Evans x reader #Marvel fanfic

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