if adobe wanted me to pay for their products they should simply not make it so expensive and so easy to pirate

I hate to do this but

I need help. I need

so much fucking help.

There are a few major things I need.

TL;DR at the bottom, but I'd appreciate you read this to fully understand the situation I'm in.

I need to reacclimate to driving vehicles, so I can get from place to place on my own, but to do that I need help from someone willing to ride with me and help me feel calm in adjusting to being behind the wheel again.

I need to find work, consistent work, that pays at a regular rate, which isn't overwhelmingly fast-paced. Night shift, anywhere, or work from home, or even day shift at a place that isn't rapid-fire energetic work.

I need to save up, be able to put money back so I have enough for emergencies like car wrecks or hospital trips or some such, and so I have enough to save a nest egg to live off of eventually.

As it stands, my only two options for who can help me with driving outright refuse to do so. They won't give me the opportunity to get behind the wheel, and when asked why, it's because they just don't want to take the time for it. These are the same people who simply "didn't want to take the time" to help me reach a dentist before my health insurance ran out. The same people who demand I help them at every turn and lecture me on selfishness when I tell them I don't feel well enough to do it.

I can't find work. The only work from home jobs here call for certifications, licenses, neither of which i have, or they call for several hours of uninterrupted focus, which I can't get here because if anything as drastic as the dog sneezing happens, I'm the one ordered to deal with it. I don't have one uninterrupted hour, let alone enough for a full shift of work. As for out-of-home work, the only places within safe walking distance are the post office (which I failed the assessment for and can't retake for a year) or the cotton gin (which isn't hiring for any positions I qualify for). So with no options in town, I have to drive (see problem 1) to find work. Which I can't do. So I can't find work outside of my streaming and avatar comms, the former of which earns roughly $20-$25 a month, and doesn't pay until earnings hit $50...Basically, I'm earning $60-$70 every 2 months. I can't live off that.

And that leads to the saving issue. I make a max of $70 every 2 months, and a friend sends me $50 every 2 weeks to help me, which totals to $100 one month and $170 every other month if I earn the absolute maximum from my streams. The $100 of the first month goes to groceries, every time. It has to. The second $100 goes to groceries of that month, $50 goes to my phone bill because I have to have service for family emergencies, and the last $20 winds up going either to more groceries or to what miniscule enrichments I can get for myself to keep from going insane here. Which means I wind up with a profit of anywhere from $0-$20 every 2 months, depending on whether that 20 actually gets spent or not. And of course, if it isn't one month, it's spent the next for groceries. I have next to no profit, no savings.

Living here is poisoning me. I live in a sunroom. Not a bedroom, not "part of the house", not an apartment or studio. A sunroom. A singular room that contains every single thing I own, a mattress on the floor, and for the record, as a sunroom, it leads directly outside. Want to see my door?

That is the door between my room and the outside world. That, and a single glass door secured by a very small, very rusted door latch on one side, is my only protection from the elements and any potential intruders. The door, as you can see, isn't even fitted to the frame. It's held in place by gravity and a single nail.

And yes, that is the breaker box behind it, entirely uncovered and with exposed wiring. Should I make it worse?

That door, held up only by gravity and a single nail, were it to fall, would fall directly onto my bed. Why is my pillow at the closest end? Well because I can't sleep with my head at the other end because my totes with all of my stuff are at the other end, and the mice like running on top of those totes and I would rather not sleep head-closest to the end they play at. That big TV? Busted, belongs to my mom's husband, and they have nowhere else to put it. That monitor beside it? Busted, because my brother broke it trying to stand on his computer chair and rather than throw it out, they had him put it in here with "the other screen".

The clutter on my bed? A hot glue gun kit a friend bought me which has literally nowhere else to be.

TL;DR and conclusions

I can't take the steps to better myself alone. I need as much help as I can get. And given my major problems right now revolve around a lack of jobs/opportunities, inability to drive alone + nobody willing to ride with me, and inability to save up because of expenses, I can really only look at the things I can reach out for help on.

I've reached out to some friends to help me look for options regarding new living arrangements, but those arrangements mean nothing if I can't afford to go, or worse, can't afford to stay.

I've got to save up. I've got to have enough to put back. So that leads me to the ending note here.

If you can spare even one dollar, ANY amount of money, at all, it would help immensely. If you can't, then please reblog, spread the word and help me reach more people so I might finally get out of this place. Every cent given this way is going straight into a savings account, not to be spent until absolutely needed, or until an opportunity to get out of here surfaces.

You can help me through paypal or cashapp, either one. Cashtag is $Aazoth, Paypal fundraiser linked below. Don't stress over the amount, I only set it to the maximum because I need as much as I can get and I wasn't sure what to expect so...better safe than sorry, given idk how the fundraisers on there work. I'd have set it to end later but I can't. I'll update y'all with a new one when this one ends.

@sparrowcraft @moremysteriesthantragedies @thetruearchmagos @a-scaly-troublemaker @that-one-enby-onyx @snakelovingnerd @eldritchx @leisoree @amerylise @profoundlyhauntedclaws @thefinalgoat @leisurelywingedlemon

I found this cool prompt generator for ships! If ya want the link its here ;D

7/13

fluff, established rs, non-idol au, gender neutral reader

503 words. 2,594 characters

Warnings: jihoon getting a bit annoyed (LMAO), cursing, clingy reader, taxes??, jihoon overworking himself🥹, somewhat unserious narration (I can't help myself)

Link to the masterlist

Lee Jihoon

@woozvc psttt nora! here you go👀

Finally! It's the weekends, time to relax and chill with your very not busy boyfriend!... Yeah I'm never going to get him out of his room..

usually, you'd both have been busy during the weekdays. You know work and all since both of you agreed you would both pay the bills, each two months it would be switched over to who would pay.

Like example, January-February is your months and the next two are Jihoons.

Well, seems Jihoon has developed some type of weird habit of literally working his ASS off at the first few weeks of his two months... Jeez you have like what, 60 days?

Unfortunately, today is one of those days. All your plans to hang out with your sweet boyfriend is all gone! You know he's trying to do this for a good cause but... He's a bit too extreme sometimes! He'd go days sometimes without sleep, you can't help but get a little worried.

You've tried and TRIED to get his attention so he can stop working, you've even told him you would pay for this month's rent too(💀). Nope he won't budge one bit, he almost got super mad at you at one point.

He quickly apologized afterwards though, but did he stop working?Hell no!

"Jihoon... " you whined as you sat beside your boyfriend on the couch, leaning onto him. He didn't seemed fazed at all

" Look I'm sorry for making you mad, I'm just worried. " you mumbled burying your face into his shoulder, Jihoon slightly leaned on your head, made you cheer up a bit. You both stayed like that, sitting in silence.

Jihoon lightly pushed your head aside and stood up, "I'm going to the bathroom" you simply nodded at him and, not you brainstorming for ideas on how to make him stop doing his work for at least one minute💀

Ding ding! How certain were you that this would work? Ehh i'd say slim chance of 40% ! 50% if you were lucky enough.

Jihoon finally came back, as soon as he sat down you placed your hand on his thigh which caught him off-guard, " Y/n? Can you remove your hand, I need to work. " you refused, you did take your hand off for a second but changed your position and lied your head onto his lap

Jihoon didn't know what to do, He didn't want to be rude and just shove you off, " Y/n I need to work please. " he said as he placed a lock of your hair behind your ear.

" You've been working so hard for the past week, just this once. Please rest, come on! It's even the weekends. Can't you spend some time with your very cool partner? "

he sighed in defeat as he closed his laptop and adjusted his position, he grabbed the remote and looked at you " What movie do you want to watch? "

" Legally blonde. " " Again? " " Yeah, so what? "

Cien rambles

AAHDFADFAHHFAD, yk... yk whos next *kicking my feet in the air* HAHFAHEHHEHEH!!!!!!!!!!1

No reason, I jst wanted an excuse to put this LMAOAO( this is my fav woozi look tbh😭🥹)

Congratulations that you got the ticket to the Taylor swift concert. I am so happy for you.

Actually, this the reason why I wanted to send you an ask before seeing that post. There is some usa tiktoker who are saying things like:

"How dare she do that for Latin America, she should make them cheap for us too"

Or

Seeing comment from people from Latin America begging American to let them have a chance at seeing her in a concert and that even if the prices of those concert seem cheap to them, in reality they are not and still you would have people say "I don't care, if I can afforade it, damn well I m booking a flight to Mexico for her concert, I don't care"

I am curious to hear an opinion of local.

Hi love! I'm thankful for the opportunity, I've been a Swiftie since 2014 and this is my very first chance to see her. I'm thankful that my family can afford it for me and did the sacrifice for me. Because, maybe this is surprising for people from other countries but despite the tickets being "affordable" for us, Argentinians, its A BUNCH OF MONEY. I understand that not everybody understand the situation, the COMPLEX economical and social situation of Argentina and it's ok. We are not the center of the universe and I do not expect all Americans to understand. TO CLARIFIED, this is not a personal attack TO ANYONE, not you, not those swifites, NOONE. This is just me, explaining how it feels FOR ME. I'll be quick, being angry at Taylor for what she did about the prices in Latin-American is not even the minimum amount of research and sadly... highly privileged. First of all, lets start with numbers. Argentinian average salary in dollars per month is ....200$ -300$ dollars...USA is 6k$.... The tickets were around from 50 dollars more on less to 300$....an entire to 1/4 of a salary here. If she would have charged the same considering that our income is not ever CLOSE to an USA one... no one would have been able to pay it. Plus the 50$ tickets were behind the scenario, basically you would just listen to the music. Second, the costs of the scenario, the background people, technicians etc. who will work in the stadium won't charge the same as American's staff because... simply Argentinian salaries are way lower. So the whole "cost" for her would be lower. Third, Argentinian ticket system was just ... better. For buying you did not only need an Argentinian ID but also that ID had to be correlated to the owner of the card who was going to pay and the data of the account had to correlate to the email of the owner of the card. Basically... you needed to be Argentinian and be the owner so the reselling would be way harder. I'm sorry about all the American Swifties who suffered the insane thing that Ticketmaster was, Allaccess had to process 2 MILLION of people in queue in less than 10 HOURS and yet it worked, slowly but it did. Finally, this is a little more personal point of view.... Argentina has over 8% of MONTHLY INFLATION... the inflation that countries who are saying to be in "a crisis" have the annual inflation that Argentina has in A MONTH. We have over 100% of ANNUAL inflation. Last huge devaluation a month ago, Supermarkets closed because they refused to sell because the prices were going up so fast that it was better not selling that selling cheap. I'm sorry that our tickets are cheaper, I'm sorry that this may be the only happiness we can have in a country were our salaries value 10% less each month. Coming from a person who had to cut half of the food tray's I was given by university to save for dinner so I could study and help my family. I'm moving aboard to be able to send money home and help my mom to finally rest and not overwork herself. This is nothing against you or any swifties. But this is literally the meme of "Everything is for you... this tiny little thing... is for me. I'm sorry that you're not the main focus right now, just let me have this for this time,"

Healing your inner child

I see a lot of millennials talking about healing their inner child and while I understand that we may have felt we missed out on things as a child, I am here to tell you that you cannot heal your inner child with permissive parenting.

As someone who has two kids and needs to pay someone to clean their carpet and to repair a few things because kids are destructive, letting your kids do all the things you wish your parents let you do as a child, gets old and expensive real quick. I believe part of the parenting expense is replacing things your kids break because they surely break a lot.

I see a lot millennials claiming they are buying themselves the McDonalds they never got as a child, which is cute, or whatever but buying yourself McDonald's because your parents claimed not to have McDonald's money when you were a child or having a closet full of shoes because your parents refused to buy you Jordan's is only going to make you fat, in debt, and your house cluttered. Do you know that after awhile shoes, even the real ones, start to dry rot? You have spent thousands of dollars on something with a very short shelf life. I am not one to tell anyone how to spend their money but putting a band aid on childhood wounds in the form of buying what you never had is not it. You need to ask yourself if the shoes are a trigger because you feel rejected, like your needs weren't truly met, and not having them made you feel inadequate and like you didn't fit in. Does your mom saying no to McDonald's make you feel ignored and neglected because you saw her money and she worked, so in your childhood mind, she surely had McDonald's money? Does childhood you think your mothers check should have been used to buy you shoes and fast food, even if you guys were just scrapping by but you didn't know it because it wasn't your place to know that your mom had to borrow money for rent or you were almost evicted or she had to go without food to buy your new shoes, even if they were payless? Did you have shoes and food to eat or did you just want Jordan's and McDonalds? Please don't get me wrong and say I am dismissing trauma, I am simply trying to give perspective. I know it hurts to see your parents with not just McDonald's money but Chick Fil A money and new outfit money for your kids, but think about this, a twenty something working a minimum wage, or just above wage job, with several kids to support, is different than a 40 or 50 something, who may have gone back to school to get a career and now has a better job, and let's be real, only having your grandkids a couple days a month is great on your food, water, and light bill. What I am saying is really look at your childhood trauma and ask yourself why is it tied to these really inconsequential things because it's probably not about the thing but the emotion and perceived action attached to it.

Monique is prime example of unhealed childhood trauma and projection, and anyone rooting for her to keep telling the same story for the last 15 years with no real intention of healing or reconciliation is just an enabler. Tyler Perry and Lee Daniels have both apologized to her and yet she still finds a way to make her yearly rounds about the same thing she has been complaining about for 15 years. For the record, I get it and I am not saying that Monique shouldn't tell her story but she made a choice and choices have consequences. We have all made the choice to say no to something and regretted it but if you look deeper, this is not about her allegedly being blackballed. I am not dismissing Monique's pain but I don't think her pain comes from Tyler Perry, Lee Daniels, or Oprah and if you actually listened to her talk and not just the sound bites, you would realize the experience triggered Monique.

Monique is a victim of childhood sexual abuse at the hands of her brother. It wasn't a one time thing, it was ongoing. Often when people are violated, they try to make themselves less appealing and I believe Monique's weight and hygiene, i.e. not shaving her legs is a way to make herself unattractive and therefore less of a target of abuse. I believe Precious triggered Monique's trauma and when the movie became big and her story became front page news, I believe it overwhelmed her and she wanted to retreat, which is why all expenses paid and an extra week didn't appeal to her, even when offered to bring her family. I think the promo and attention from all she was doing overwhelmed her and she needed a break and couldn't say it, so they made it about the money, which it wasn't because no amount of money would have been sufficient. 2009-2010 was Monique's year, she had a TV show, won an Oscar. Monique was it and I believe success can trigger deseeded trauma. I believe Monique was triggered when she saw her entire family on the Oprah Winfrey show supporting the person who caused her so much pain. It has to hurt to not be believed but to have everyone rally around the person who not only hurt you but is now clout chasing by saying it is true. That had to hurt. I don't think Monique needs an apology from the big three and I think all three have already acknowledged her pain and at least two have tried to pay her or give her a job, I think the apology and acknowledgements she needs is from the two people who are dead. I think she needed her mother to believe her and acknowledge her pain and she only did on national TV with her brother, her abuser. Even recently, someone claiming to be her sister, made a viral post attacking her for not attending her parents funerals and that had to hurt, even if she didn't acknowledge it. Even today, nearly 50 years later, no one has acknowledged the pain of what happened to her as a child and they all want her to move on and stop talking I don't think Monique ever got a real life, one on one acknowledgement of her pain from anyone, let alone her family, which is why every time someone disagree with her, she has to confront them and put them on blast. It's almost as if that experience of being called a liar as a child, has made her always want to defend herself and prove she isn't a liar. My heart really hurts for Monique and I say this in love, but it is time to figure out how to move forward. It has been 15 years and it seems as if every time she tells her story, the list of people that have wronged her, only seems to grow but it also seems as if the list of people who don't want to be associated with her or limit their interactions with her and her "daddy" grows as well. Like I said, Monique may very well be right but in a world built on relationships, it isn't working, especially if after 30 years in the game, you still have to borrow money to pay rent, obviously this hobo tour isn't working, so what is the plan, sis? How do we get you consistently working and paid for your jokes, not just your pain?

Then Jesus saw him and knew he had been ill for a long time, he asked him, “Would you like to get well?”~ John 5:8

It is time for Monique to get to the bag. You do not prove your innocence by lasting everyone you disagree with, you prove it by showing up, working hard, being talented, and handling grievances privately. I also don't think her husband is doing her any favors. I understand he is a king and he is protecting her but saying you're being raised by a mate in your 40s and 50s is a bit disconcerting, especially calling him daddy. I think that may also be another sign of trauma, maybe her dad was there but not present but either way, Monique is going to be 80 and Oprah will be dead and we will have long forgotten about Precious and Monique will still be on this who wronged me tour. Let's heal that inner child sis because this ain't it.

From the 15.99 monthly subscription to my VR Vtuber / l3wdtuber fansite I only take home 6.50 after site fees, taxes and pension (mandatory in my country).

I am nearing thousand pics and over 100 (mostly long) videos and 50+ audios most of which are extremely kinky / niche within a niche fetish but people are already on the edge with 15.99 and I have tested a lower subscription before to see if people would compensate this with tipping, gifting and buying PPV but it did not work. I simply am not a carsalesman personality, or comfortable with cold selling - which you would have to be to make any money with free or cheap page!

With low price I also just felt used and disrespeced as from 5 I only get 2.10. TWO fucking euros for doing weekly videos and putting myself at risk, potentially being banned from ever entering USA for example - which happened to a f4nsly Vtuber! They were going to a convention in USA but got deported because they found out about the site... Land of the Free (fact check land of the chr1stof4scism)

So If you are someone thinking about starting a spicy site, even if you are just doing ASMR or vtuber I want you to consider the risks while you have NO guarantee of ever making any money! I have 18mo under my belt and most months I only make enough to pay a few bills, some months more but not consistently enough to do it fulltime. But it's fun and since it is not my sole income, I can refuse to do anything I don't want to do. But it most definitely is not easy or fast money.

But all I really wanted to say is - 15.99 translates to 6.50. 5 translates ro 2.10. Twitch of course is even worse - from that 5 sub I would only get 1.45!!? So if you want to genuinely support your favorite independent creators, so they can keep creating and streaming instead of graduating their vtubers to go work at a gas station use their throne/wishtender (l3wd creators even if nsfw artists, can not safely use paypal) before twitch - or to tip them. Its against site rules to tell people to tip outside sites but if they have a wishlist up, use it if you can.

Xact loan reviews

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Dynasty

➜ Words: 17.4k

➜ Genres: 50% Angst, 35% Smut, 15% Fluff, Historical!AU

➜ Summary: It’s no secret that the Emperor is infertile. But even so, a girl is selected every three months and brought to become his concubine in hopes of conceiving the next heir. This time, it’s you. And in order to prevent execution, Jeon Jungkook might just aid you in conception.

➜ Notes: Inspired by the movie the Treacherous (2015)

➜ Warnings: Brief depictions of reluctant sexual intercourse, dubious consent, emphasis on impregnation, sloppy seconds, creampies, pregnancy. Reader discretion is advised.

“Absolutely not!” 

You stand at once, chair knocked back to the ground in a clatter, unable to believe what you were hearing. Perhaps it was a mistake. Perhaps your ears hear wrongly. But by the way your older brother’s brows are drawn together, marring his usually good-natured features, you know you’re not mistaken.    He had worn the same expression as the day of your parents' massacre.   Your voice is shrill as you protest and cry, “I won’t! I can’t! T-This— this is ridiculous! How could you even….how could you even….”   You are Seokjin’s younger sister — his blood, flesh, bones. Family. And you were about to be traded in like you were no one to him. A chess piece. A part of his bigger plan that you wanted nothing to do with.   Jungkook looks at you with an impassive expression, one you cannot read, but you pay him no mind. Seokjin, however, looks to him and nods his head. They are silent in their communication, and then Jungkook takes his leave until there it is only your shadow and Seokjin’s that flickers against the wall with every movement of the dim candlelight.   He begins with a soft voice. A soothing one as if you were a child.    “There’s no choice, Y/N.”   “There is always choice,” you emphasize as tears start to stream down your cheeks. “Do you really want to send me off to that...that disgusting monster? Do you really want me to be used? If you care about me as a younger sister, if you care about me at all, you wouldn’t be doing this.”   His dark eyes meet yours. “The decision has been made, Y/N. You have been chosen. But this is the way we can make our parents happy. This is the only way for them to reach peace.”   You sob, collapsing onto the ground. Seokjin does little to comfort you. He knows there’s nothing he can do after this betrayal.   You hold your face in your hands, catching the tears that rack through your frame. It is silent except for the noises of your wails muffled through your sleeves.    After minutes of devastation and grief that stutters out of you, your hands drop to look at him. And your voice swoops into a murmur, one that is private, kept between the two of you. You beg for his honesty from sibling to sibling, without duties or titles. “Is...is t-there no other way?”   Your brother deflates, refusing to look at you. You notice the way his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat, how he swallows hard to answer. “There must always be sacrifices made in times of a revolution and this is ours.”   “No.” You shake your head. “This is mine.”

There is a knock at your door.   “Go away, Seokjin,” you shout at him without regard for sibling hierarchy. In your anger, he has long lost the respect that goes along with the status of being your older brother. “I said I wasn’t hungry!”   But in spite of your bitterness, the door opens anyhow.   It’s Jungkook who has appeared in place of Seokjin, doe eyes and dark hair tied into a high ponytail by a black ribbon that matches his robbed attire and the scabbard by his side.   “I saw the light in your room,” he says simply.   You lift your eyes away from the book you were copying, the last task that you wanted to finish, and your gaze remains cold on the man.    You detest Jungkook.    He is Seokjin’s friend, not yours and not a childhood one. Your brother had met him shortly after arriving in this town years ago. But you do not know him well. You resent him merely because he represents every manner that Seokjin has changed in the ways you hate most.   Before they met, Seokjin was still the brother you knew. Kind-hearted. Mischievous. Protective. There was no rebellion group, talk of treason, risk of harm. The Seokjin you knew would’ve never thrown you away like this.   “Are you ready for tomorrow’s journey,” he asks.   “There’s no reason not to be.” Jungkook is quiet and conniving. You know the only reason he has come out of his way to check on your well-being in the middle of the night is for his assumption that you are a flight risk. You suppose it might be natural to have those suspicions. Any girl in your position would run. But you quickly dissipate his worries if it means he’ll leave. “You don’t need to worry that I’m going to run. I wouldn’t do that to Jin.”   He makes no changes in his expression. Always blank. Always emotionless.   “The journey will be long. You should get some rest.”   “I can take care of myself.”   He remains silent for a moment. But you return to your work and when you look up again, he’s gone, having finally left you in your own misery.   //   When the first blush of dawn arrives, you get dressed in your best attire and gather the little belongings you have. They’re already waiting for you in front of the house, not allowing you a moment to yourself to relish in freedom any longer. There is a horse, a carriage, and four members of the group you don’t recognize along with Jungkook to journey with you.   Seokjin waits there too, but you can’t look him in the eye.   He knows you're upset, you can tell. Neither of you say much to each other, but you mutter a half-hearted farewell.   You can hear the way the corner of his mouth gently quirks by the sound of his voice. “I’ll see you soon enough, Y/N.”   You turn away, walking to your carriage where the horse is already neighing and becoming fussy. But then your steps slow. You hesitate getting in and Jungkook stares at you, waiting patiently, never once pushing you on.   At once, you turn around. “Jin!”   You call out to your brother and he turns around before stumbling. A giggle streams out of his chest after you’ve thrown yourself at him in an embrace as if you were still children. He hugs you back, arms around your body, frame overtaking yours, and he squeezes you tight.   You shut your eyes to savour the fleeting moment.   He leans down, murmuring, “I’m sorry.”   But you shake your head, unable to utter a word for fear of crying again.   “We should get a move on before it gets any later,” one of the members calls out and it’s your reminder of where you’re headed.   You pull apart from Seokjin. He smiles tenderly and brushes a stray strand of hair away from your face.   The carriage ride is shaky. Every bump and crack of the dirt road is felt by you ten folds, the wheels wobbling and the horse’s disregard makes it difficult for you to rest easy. But you don’t dare utter a complaint, not when you’re in the company of unfamiliar people. You do, however, pull back the curtain of the square window to look at the land and let in fresh air.   Eventually, there’s a break called. The tiny carriage comes to a halt and Jungkook is the one who brushes open the large curtain. He catches you off guard, peering in with his large eyes that seemingly sparkle naturally.   “We’re going to take a small rest.”   “Okay.”   He helps guide you out and you notice the other people are either on the ground resting their feet or by the stream, taking a drink of water.   “Are you alright?”   You nod. There’s a moment of serene quietness, the birds chirping around the trees, the rustling of leaves. Jungkook drinks from his leather pouch and then hands it to you to quench your thirst.   You sip it, soothing your throat and gather the courage to utter his name— “Jungkook.” He turns to you. “Do you know what’s going to happen to me?”   “You’ll be introduced as one of the minister’s nieces. He’s been aligned with us for years. You’ll be inspected and bathed, and then there will be a ceremony and then….”   “I’ll be bedded,” you complete his sentence for him.   Jungkook remains silent.   The Emperor is infertile. It’s a truth no one dares to utter, but it’s been fifteen years since he began his reign and he has yet to produce a child no matter how many consorts and concubines has entered the palace. The Empress has not bore a child either.   And nine years ago, there was an official decree. Every three months since, a girl is selected and brought in. If she doesn’t get pregnant within the time frame, she is executed for failing to fulfill her duty, for treason.   You are the next one.   The one who has to preoccupy the Emperor to the best of your abilities.   “You don’t need to worry,” Jungkook says, perhaps reading the expression on your face, but you slap his hand away when he reaches out.   “Of course I’ll worry,” you spit at him in animosity. “I’m going to die.”   The man’s brows draw tightly together, his lips lopsided. “It’ll be over before they can get to you.”   You say nothing more, returning to the small carriage before you can start to sob like a child and further be humiliated.   //   Night falls and camp is set up with little hardships. By the afternoon of tomorrow, you would have already arrived at the palace, perhaps straight to the Emperor’s bed. The thought makes you nauseated, wanting to crawl out of your own skin and hide from your body.   You know you’re being selfish. In the bigger picture, your desires don’t matter. If anything, you should be happy to give yourself up for the rebellion. For the common good. But you can’t.    “Are you not going to eat?” one of the female guards asks you with a smile and you lift your eyes away from the blazing fire whose heat has pressed against your cheeks.    You look around to the four members of the group that has been commissioned to protect you, their faces illuminated by the glow of the flames. You wonder what sacrifices they had made to be here, what led them here in the first place.   “I-I can’t.” You stand up and all of their heads, including Jungkook’s, turn to you. “I’m sorry. I….I need a moment to myself.”   You quicken your pace towards the forest, trying to escape their prying gazes, the burden that has been placed upon your shoulders. It’s hard to breathe. It’s as if the smog of the fire has bloomed inside of your lungs, constricting your chest, forming a thick lump in your throat.   The darkness of the forest envelopes you and it’s almost comforting.   That is until there’s a branch snapping behind you, and you quickly spin around.   “I knew you weren’t okay.”   “Go away, Jungkook.”   He remains silent, but you can see the outline of him coming closer towards you. He is not dissuaded no matter how much you have pushed him away from you, no matter how rude you’ve been to him from the start. You’re not sure if he pities you or he—   “Can I comfort you in place of Seokjin?” Jungkook requests in an earnest murmur, humble and cautious. “You wish he was here instead of me, don’t you?”   You’re taken aback, brought to speechlessness.   The two of you end up seated by the creek on a wooden log. The horizon is full of stars, allowing you to see enough to watch the water that rushes past in a calm hum, soothing your turmoil.   “I’m afraid.”   “Of what?”   “I don’t know what to do. How to capture the Emperor’s attention. How to be...bedded.”   “You need to be strong.”   You rise to your feet at once, biting back angrily, “I’ve never even been touched by a man! How am I supposed to be strong?!” It’s easy for him to say. It always is to the outsider.   He doesn’t know what this means to you. You’ll never be able to find a husband after this. The peaceful life you dreamt of will be gone.    You will forever be stained as the Emperor’s previous consort, his whore or you will end up dead.    You’re not sure which is worse.   “How am I supposed to know what to do?” Your voice is shrill, desperate and full of pain as if you are asking Jungkook for an actual answer to your predicament.   Jungkook stands and places his firm hand on your shoulder. “There,” he says after a moment when you’ve calmed down, “you’ve been touched by a man.”   Irritation surges through you again at how lightly he’s taken your strife. “You know that’s not what I meant—”   Then you’re suddenly spun to face him, a strong grip at your waist. Your words become muted through the soft press of Jungkook’s lips. Your whimper is muffled by his mouth. It’s chaste. Careful. He allows you room to breathe, to feel the velvet texture of his lips or to pull away if you so choose to.    But you don’t move. Your eyes become half-lidded, gazing into his doe eyes that seem to be full of stars. Your hands come to grip his broad shoulder, his placed on the dips of your body so gently as if he were afraid to break you. And your heart swells dangerously inside your chest.   After a moment of his mouth moving against yours in a sweet kiss, Jungkook pulls apart.   Almost immediately, you tug him back to you again, not wanting the moment to end. You kiss him fervently and he lowly hums inside his chest, tongue peeking at the seam of your mouth, urging you to grant him access. It’s unsightly, the two of you unmarried and holding one another so intimately in the dark during this time of night. If anyone knew, it would be shameful.    But it’s only you and Jungkook in this small space.   Your lips part, allowing his hot tongue to lick into your mouth. And he angles his head, happily deepening the kiss. It makes you gasp for air, becoming breathless, but he doesn’t relent. Jungkook presses forward eagerly like he can’t help himself anymore. His hands come to feel up your body, the softness of your flesh through your clothing, the curves of your hips, the swell of your breasts. Your arms loop around his neck, back arching into his firm body. You relish in the sound of soft smacking filling the forest, feeling your face heat as his scent surrounds you.   And when you moan his name again in a desperate whine — “J-Jungkook.” — his lips start to trail down your jaw to your neck. He holds you as you lean into him. You pant, chest rising and falling, and you have half a mind to realize that your clothes have loosened.   The man begins to suck a spot at the juncture of your neck by your exposed collarbone, claiming you possessively. Your entire body heats for him, your stomach fluttering. His name befalls your lips again in a whine and this time, it seems to snap him from his trance.   Jungkook pulls away from you.    Enough distance that if your arms stretched, it would barely be able to reach him.   He wipes his sweat off his forehead with his sleeve. “We...we should go back,” he says, winded.   You merely nod, not uttering a single word. The two of you don’t need to speak to know that this can’t be continued further. It wouldn’t be good for either of you.   But you’re still stunned as you follow him back to where the others are. Your eyes trace Jungkook’s backside and you nibble into your swollen lips. The taste of cinnamon lingers.   //   The capital is close — you can tell by the way travelers aren’t as sparse and the rich attire that adorns their body. Their expressions are bright and friendly, innocent from the fear of theft or strangers stealing their food. There are no hollowed eyes and cheeks peering at you blankly, no hands clasped together to silently beg for some grains to satisfy the shriveling stomachs.   By afternoon, the carriage is brought to a halt again.   “I’ll be going ahead first,” Jungkook announces as he sits on top of his horse. “It’ll seem less suspicious.”   The other seem to take little issue, but before Jungkook rides off into the distance, his gaze lingers on you. The two of you stare at one another for a moment, one where you’re not sure if you should bid farewell to him or not, one where you wonder when the next time is going to be.   But before you can utter a single syllable, he turns and whips the reins. The horse gallops off, hooves marked in the dirt. You stare at his backside diminishing before you’re called back into the carriage to carry on.   You arrive no later.   The palace is grander than anything you’ve ever witnessed, stretching across the horizon. The red roof and golden trim are vivid against the town even from the distance. Once the guards at the stone wall are briefly spoken to, the magnificent gates creak open and you’re brought into a different world, one protected from outside life. There are hundreds of servants with downcast heads and folded hands scattering across the vast courtyard, winding pavilion paths bordering each structure. Even from peering out the tiny window, your neck aches with how much you have to crane your neck to see it all.    But you quickly snap out of your awe.   This isn't paradise. It’s your prison.   The gates close behind you, trapping you in its walls and after a minute, the carriage halts the final time.   “Consort Y/N, from the Park family.” Your title is declared and the curtain is roughly pulled back. You brace yourself as you’re guided out and you come face to face with two men, both middle-aged, and two women, the younger one keeping her head down and her hands folded.   Instantly, you lower your eyes with a polite smile and dip down. “It is a pleasure to be here. I am grateful to serve my duty.”    You maintain a soft-spoken voice, barely above a timid whisper. It feels foreign to act this way, but not completely unfamiliar. Even if your title has been stripped away and your family name has been wiped, you still are of aristocratic blood.   “Oh my! I haven’t seen you in so long!” One of the middle-aged men approaches you with half-moon eyes and a plump face. You’ve been spoken to enough that you know the minister’s name is Park Jimin and he’s supposed to be your uncle. “You’ve grown so much!”   “You look as healthy as I remember, uncle.” You offer a brighter smile and he chuckles heartily.   “Do I? I’m glad then. I think I’ve packed on a few pounds since your mother last saw me, but don’t tell her that or she may send me some more medication.”   In the midst of the lighthearted conversation, you realize that you’re being scrutinized by the other man. His hair is as dark as his eyes, gruff around his mouth and chin but his features are sharp. He stands with his chin high, his spine straightened, his arms behind his back. His robes are a deep violet, silks luxurious and commanding attention. You’ve seen him before.   Jung Hoseok. The man who has stood in your family’s courtyard with the same posture as each member was brought out and executed. You had witnessed it from the gaps of the weaved basket that you were hidden in until Seokjin covered your eyes with his small hands. It was fifteen years ago, when you were merely five. But you still remember the iron stench of blood well.    The memory and his boring gaze makes you break into a sweat. It’s as if he’s tearing you apart limb by limb, trying to read your intentions and consider if you’re a threat. Fear drains blood from your face. And perhaps he notices because a moment later, he hums and smirks.   “Let’s not waste all day here.” Hoseok turns away. “Minister Park, there are many matters to attend to. Your greetings can continue later.”   “O-Of course.”   Hoseok glances at the older woman standing beside him and she nods, addressing you, “Come with me.”   “From now on, you are to serve the Emperor. I am going to assume that the Park family has taught you proper etiquette.” The head servant lady continues walking and you struggle to keep up with her and the servant. You don’t glance at the members who took you here as they retreat appropriately. From now on, you’re on your own. “If you step out of line, there is little anyone will be able to do for you. The Empress is difficult to please, but as long as you do what you’re told and say nothing more, then your time will be more pleasant.”   You’re brought into a room with two more female servants and the door is quickly slid shut.    “Strip.”   “P-Pardon me?”   The lady huffs in annoyance and steps forward. Her hands reach out and she begins to tug the ribbons of your clothes. You’re startled, immediately stumbling back out of her grasp. “I-I can do it.”   “You should get used to it,” she says as you shed your outer and inner coat. “There’s no point in being embarrassed anymore.”   Still, your fingers are slow to remove your clothing. After a moment, you’ve rid of your clothes, only keeping your modesty by the last thin white layer that hides your breasts and naked torso from plain view.   It seems to be enough and the woman begins to inspect your skin. She rounds you, examining you from head to toe. Then she holds your arm, lifting them at every angle, making sure there are no wounds or rashes that could infect the Emperor. Her eyes, however, eventually fall to your neck. Right at the spot where you remember Jungkook kissed you hard enough to bruise and your face heats at the memory.    “I was accidentally bitten by a bug yesterday on my way here,” you murmur to explain the subtle lilac stain. “I apologize for being so careless.”   “Nothing that won’t fade then,” she states and you breathe a silent sigh of relief. But then the woman suddenly grabs a hold of your cheeks in one hand. She tilts your head to look up into her eyes and she studies your face carefully. She hums after a moment and lets you go.   You blink at her. “Is there something wrong?”   “You’re one of the prettier ones, that’s all.” The woman speaks softly as if it’s a shame — a shame that you’ve been brought here as the Emperor’s consort and that you couldn’t be wedded properly. You’re unable to dwell on her pity when the other girls take you by the arms and guide you to follow the woman when she walks off. The door slides open into an adjacent bedroom. “You’re going to be washed, cleaned, thoroughly. There’s not much time. You must be prepared for tonight.”   Your feet stop, blood running cold. “Tonight?”   The lady turns around, her gaze more sympathetic than before. “There’s no time to be wasted.”   You’re taken roughly, bathed in milky water with flowers plucked from the royal garden and rigorously scrubbed by two other servant girls until your own skin feels raw. Your nails are trimmed, hair combed before being looped and braided into a half-updo, holding golden hairpins that you would’ve never dreamed of ever having. The robes that are slid on you are soft silks, a light blush pink that matches the peony flowers your mother once had in her own garden. And your lips are pressed with red pigment, eyes lined, cheeks dusted with a rosy shade.   When they’re finished, you don’t recognize the person you see in the mirror.   “The Emperor isn’t difficult to please, but one must know not to step out of line.”   “I understand.”   “All hail Empress Soojin!” There’s a clamour outside and the doors abruptly open. Instantly, the servants, including the head servant woman, sweep back and fold their hands together, bowing their heads. You also look to the ground, dipping down in the presence of the Empress.   “You must be the new girl. Lift your head,” she says and you come to meet cat-eyes narrowed in on you. The Empress is dressed in crimson robes with golden swirls, her dark hair in an updo with pins and luxurious decorations. But she is not worthy of her title from her clothing alone. Her aura is intimidating, her expression unyielding to anyone in the room. She carries herself like she knows she was born of importance, that the mandate of Heaven resides on her shoulders.   Empress Soojin looks at you with a scrutinizing eye that makes you fearful. But then she smiles.   “What’s your name?”   “Park Y/N, Your Majesty.”   “What do your parents do?”   “They are nobles. They have some land in the East. We grow wheat for Your Majesty.” The lies are easy, all part of a narrative that isn’t yours.   Her smiles eases even more. “Do a good job.”   “Yes.”   Empress Soojin is kind — more than what you expected someone in her position to be. You would not know how to feel if you were meeting yet another girl your husband was trying to conceive with. But you’re not foolish enough to be put off guard. You know far better than to fall for her facade.   At the end of the day, she is your enemy. She might poison you or kill you if she so chooses. And you know that your child will also be her child. If you do fall pregnant by some miracle, the baby would be taken away from you and given to her. To grow with her. To call her mother.   But you don’t dwell on these thoughts or let it be known.    Empress Soojin leaves once she’s satisfied with your appearance and a veil is put over you as the sun starts to dip over the horizon. The ceremony is about to begin, the jovial music already playing in the distance and muffled through the walls.    “It’s time.”   You’re led out of the room, lugging your heavy robes with you. But as you look up, your breath hitches in your throat.    Doe eyes stare into yours past the translucent veil.    Jungkook is dressed in navy robes with the royal emblem on it, his hair brought into a ponytail with a sheathed sword by his side. Something lodges into your throat. But you try not to let your eyes linger too long on him. After all, here he isn’t your brother’s friend or the companion on your journey. Jungkook is the Emperor’s guard. You are merely the Emperor’s new consort.   “I’m here to escort you by the Emperor’s orders.”   You don’t speak a word as you walk alongside him. Neither does he.   But when no one’s watching, you steal a glance at Jungkook from the corner of your eye and find that he’s peeking at you too.   The moment is too short.   The throne room is grandiose, golden pillars spiraling upwards to hold the high ceilings. The room is full of ministers sitting by and eating, young girls dancing to the deafening beat of the drums and the melody of the flutes. But even from the distance, you can see the Emperor seated at the throne beside the Empress and Jung Hoseok who stands to his right.    Your hand tightens into a fist until your nails have sunk into your palm.   “All hail Consort Y/N!”   You come to the bottom of the steps where Jungkook leaves you, resuming to the side of the stairs, and you lower yourself on your knees. “It is my honour to serve you, Your Majesty.”   Your expression remains impassive, demure perhaps. But inside you, the rage ignites.   Emperor Minseok who stood by and did nothing as the Kim Family, your family, was massacred. Left behind two children on accident to fend for themselves. Left the nation to soil as he was kept inside ravishing young girls and indulging in pleasures.    He isn’t an Emperor. He does not have the Mandate of Heaven.    He is a puppet.   Emperor Minseok’s eyes light. He scrambles upwards and pushes Empress Soojin aside, making her wince. But he still moves past her to sprint down the stairs and comes to you like a child getting a new toy.   Instantaneously, your veil is thrown off.   The child-like man gasps in excitement. “You’re pretty!”   Hoseok, the person you know well as the mastermind orchestrating the entire court and country, the king’s personal advisor, approaches with a smile. “I am glad you are satisfied with the new girl, Your Majesty. But you must show restraint.”   The Emperor enthusiastically nods, but still takes your hand. He pulls you up the stairs and leads you to sit on the other side of him, something the Empress is visibly mortified at in spite of staying quiet.    “Continue the celebration,” he announces and the music commences once more with the pleasant laughter of the ministers. Minister Park has a twinkle in his smile and slightly raises his cup towards you before taking a sip. Jungkook, on the other hand, faces forward with a blank expression as if he were a statue. “What’s your name?”   Your eyes tear away from the doe-eyed man. “My name is Y/N. I am Park Minister’s niece, sire.”   There’s no reason to hide your first given name. It’s not like they would know who you and Seokjin are.   The ceremony and dancing continues, held as an excuse to welcome you and give fortune to tonight’s conception. In reality, it’s for those in the court to indulge themselves. The Emperor fawns over you the entire time, asking many questions and trying to get you to eat to which you force yourself to swallow down the food. You’re nauseated, especially with the times he touches you, when he wraps his arm around your shoulder and pulls you into his chest, but you retain a shy disposition to not arouse suspicion of your true feelings.   It ends much too soon.   “His Majesty will be here shortly,” the servant informs you as you’re brought into the bedroom and before you can get in another word, the doors shut.   They’re listening — you know they are. Maybe other girls have run before you, tried to flee while they still had the chance. But no matter how strong the urge is, your feet stay rooted into the ground.    The bed is revolting to look at. The golden sheets that seem to reek of a luxury that you have never known and now imprison you. You feel sick, like you might throw up, but you hold it in.   Your eyes shut tight, trying to regain control of your breath, trying to dispel away your worries.   It will be quick. It will be over. It won’t change anything about who you are. You will survive.   This is something you must do.   The doors open with Emperor Minseok drunkenly stumbling inside after grabbing a hold of the door frame. He haphazardly slides it shuts and giggles once his gaze has set upon you. You swallow hard, moving back on instinct. He grins and bumbles forward.   “You’re so pretty, huh?” He strips off his overcoat and you fall to the bed, silently seated and gripping the edge. “C’mon, you can say something. Won’t scare you away, kitty cat.”   Emperor Minseok pushes you back and climbs over you with the carelessness of an eager but intoxicated man. He stinks of alcohol and you hold your breath, looking away. He snickers and then frantically pushes the many layers of your dress up as if he doesn’t want to waste any more time.   Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, but you comply, like a dead fish against the sheets. Your eyes shut tight and you think about what it means to make sacrifices...   The Emperor tugs his drawers down in one swoop and aligns his cock against your folds. His hips at once jut forward without warning and your teeth grit, holding in your pained whimper as he enters into you. It burns, aching to the point where your eyes are stinging. He groans above you, withdraws, thrusts into you once and then he’s coming.   As quick as five seconds.    The Emperor groans, eyes shut tight, and then he collapses on top of you.   It takes a moment, for you to gasp for air, to come back to your senses and then you’re shoving the sweaty man off of your body, freeing yourself of his heavy weight. Emperor Minseok snores, already worn himself out, and you curse at him silently while you pull the layers of your dress down.   It’s tempting.   You want to kill him — and it would be easy to do so. But it would mean your death, Seokjin’s everlasting grief over it and the likelihood that someone else will become Jung Hoseok’s puppet.   So you gather your wits and slide off the bed until you’re seated on the floor.   //   In the middle of the night, there’s a shadow at the doorway and a soft murmur of your name.   You grab a loose silk cover to wrap your body and open the door. The candle has long been blown out but you haven’t slept, stayed on the ground while the Emperor snorts in his slumber. You hadn’t expected to see anyone, not until morning at least, but it’s surprising to see Jungkook.   Although you’re not sure if that surprise is pleasant or not.   “What are you doing here?” you ask in a hushed tone, shutting the door behind you and wrapping your arms around your torso, away from the cold wind that brushes through.   If anyone saw him here, it could ruin everything.    You don’t know why someone like Jungkook would take that risk.   “I know. I just…” The more you allow your eyes to adjust to the darkness, the better you are at being able to discern the furrow of his brows and the way it mars his expression. “How...how was it?”   “How was it?” you spit at him. “What do you think?”   There’s a held silence. Neither of you speak.    But the moment anger surges through you, the upheaval follows.    Against your will, sobs begin to break through your frame. As intense as the day Seokjin delivered the news that you would have to do this. And the memories burst through, catching up to you.   It would have been fine if you were alone.   If you could pretend that it wasn’t bad, that it meant nothing. But the earnestly spoken question from Jungkook has brought forth the truth that you had so desperately tried to push away.   You cry, tears shedding down your face as you hold your face in your hands. You are oblivious to the way Jungkook’s fingers twitch, how his hands reach out, how he hesitates. But then he embraces you, pressing your face against his shoulder, his arms around your waist.   You grab onto him, latching on as if he is the only thing that grounds you to this insanity. You muffle your sobs, trying to keep them quiet before you’re found. You wish this was Seokjin.   But it’s Jungkook.   “I had a younger sister,” he tells you suddenly, calming your hiccups as he cradles you against him. “Her name was Jieun. She was brought in, just like you. Five years ago. She was taken in by force. All because she caught the eye of the Emperor.”   You pull away from him and he wipes a tear off your cheek, holding your face within his hands.   You didn’t know. Frankly, you don’t know anything about Jungkook, but to hear him tell you, for him to openly share is something you don’t take lightly. “W-What happened to her?”   “She was always weak and they mistook her sickness for pregnancy. When they found out she wasn’t, they hung her for supposedly losing the baby.” His whispers are quiet, but they carry a grief that you can barely understand. Jungkook’s eyes connect within yours.    Finally, you begin to understand. Why he started this, why he’s come here.    “I don’t want something like that to happen again. I’ll do everything in my power to keep it from happening to you.”   You nod.   He didn’t need to come see you tonight. But you’re thankful he did.   //   “All hail Empress Soojin!”   The doors open with a parade of servants following the female who holds up her dress, entering through the doorway. You meet her halfway, head dipped and hands folded with a demure smile. Her eyes are narrowed in on you and you pay no mind when her servants begin to inspect the place, examining the bed sheets and any other evidence of last night’s affair.   “Good morning, Your Majesty.”   “How are you?” Her gaze sweeps across your body, lingering on your stomach.   “It was fine.”   The Empress lifts her hand and two more servants enter with a tray of food. They start to arrange the breakfast on the table. “You might be carrying a child, so it will be important to nourish yourself.”   You look at the dishes with a sense of queasiness. The last thing you want is food — you don’t think you could contain it in your stomach if you tried. And there’s a fear in your mind that she’s going to take this opportunity to poison you. You wouldn’t be surprised if she did.   So you dip your head. “If you may pardon me, Your Majesty, I am not feeling hungry.”   “Don’t be foolish.”   “I—”   Your words are choked the moment your head is whipped to the side. Your cheek burns. The Empress’ hand print is embedded into your skin, her arm still raised in the air. Your eyes sting.   Even in your worst moments, you’ve never been slapped. Not by Seokjin. Not even by your parents.   “Her Majesty was kind enough to come here and offer you food but you dare deny her and talk back?” The servant beside her shakes her head in disapproval. “The Park Family has no manners.”   Immediately, you fall to your knees. Your head meets the carpet, right by her feet but she doesn’t see the way your teeth grit. “I apologize for my disrespect.”   Empress Soojin huffs in frustration and there’s a clamour as feet stomp out, making the room silent once more. It’s then that you lift yourself back onto your feet and pour the tonic she gave you into the plant.    You spend the rest of your day in your room after taking a bath, staying out of anyone’s way as you were told to do. But after nightfall, there’s news of Emperor Minseok planning to come see you. So you suppose you must’ve done something right for him to willingly reach out to you.   His body weight is heavy against you, your back molded against the bed.    “You’re very pretty,” he says for the millionth time.   You try to muster a smile, but keep your head tilted to stare at the wall, acting like you are much too shy. “Thank you.”   The Emperor is easily worked up, the very antithesis of control. He enters you and you bare through it, getting used to the action. But Emperor Minseok finishes in a mere three pumps, gripping at your thighs with a groan. He rolls over to sleep and you shove down your skirt.   If you could count the little fortune you have, you’re relieved he’s been too impatient to undress you properly. He’s neither kissed you nor laid a hand to the softest parts of your body.   Not like Jungkook.   //   The palace is unfamiliar. It’s a vast space that stretches across the plane and numerous structures gives room for ministers and servants you will never know the name of. The only person you truly know in these walls is Jungkook. He’s the only person to confide in, but there is little opportunity to see him, even if you long to.   But he comes to you, enough times to make you reassured that he is always there, following in your shadow. Though it’s never enough to fulfill your desires or relieve your yearning.   “What is this?”   You open the envelope he’s passed to you, pulling out the folded parchment. The two of you are hidden in an empty warehouse where supplies and weapons are kept in wooden crates. Grime lays in thick layers, cobwebs collected at the corners, but some specks of dust float in the air, seen by the sunbeams that pierce through the gaps of the planks covering the windows.   Your eyes widen at the familiar writing of the letter and your eyes skim the page to see Seokjin’s signature at the bottom.   The corner of Jungkook’s mouth quirks to see your wide grin.   “H-How did you get it here?”   “We have servants working for us and a communication line coming in and out of the palace. It’s the way we exchange news.”   You nod, reading the letter and the kind words that are so much like Seokjin, encapsulating his personality with every ‘dear sister’. But the sentences are short and the content makes the blood drain from your face. There’s been delays of Seokjin getting into the palace.   They need more time. More than three months.   “There won’t be enough time.” Your hands drop, the letter put at your side. Your eyes lock with Jungkook’s, but he doesn’t seem surprised, as if he already knew. “I’m going to die.”   He doesn’t flinch, expression solemn, unyielding to this devastating news. “I will help you.”    “How?!”   “We’ll give them what they want. You won’t be executed if you’re carrying a child.”   “The Emperor is infertile—!”    But Jungkook isn’t.    And once the implications of his words sinks into you, you turn away to hide from his gaze, your voice shrill. “How could you….how could you even think of that? You’re as cruel as Jin. No one...no one has any regard for me whatsoever. It’s all about the country, the revolution.”   In the midst of your hysteria, he calls you. “Y/N.”   “You want to use me. You want to use my body,” you sob.   “I don’t want you to die,” Jungkook emphasizes and grabs you, spinning you around to look at him again. His hand wraps around your wrist, doe eyes staring into yours. Your breath hitches and it goes silent. “If there’s anything I can do within my control to help you, I will. I don’t want to feel powerless.” Jungkook’s grasp on you tightens, as if he is afraid to let go. “Not anymore.”   You recognize the pain in his eyes. It’s tangible. Earnest.   On instinct, you lean in, pressing your lips against his to console his worries. It’s a soft kiss, one where Jungkook’s nose brushes against yours and his hands lift to cradle your face. You succumb to the itch of having him close to you, giving into your carnal desires and the lust that has lingered in you after the kisses you two shared in the darkness of the forest that one night.   And Jungkook doesn’t hesitate either.    He touches you, fingers gently tugging the ribbons of your attire to slip off the inner coat and many layers they’ve cloaked you in. It’s freeing to be out of the silks. You can finally breathe again, but not for long when Jungkook kisses you until you’re gasping for air and your breath is stained with his.   You grasp at his own clothes, ridding them and his sword clanks to the ground.   His mouth moves from your jaw to the juncture of your neck, traveling down your collarbone and the valley of your breasts. He sucks at your flesh, greedy to mark every inch of it. Even if he doesn’t say it aloud, you can tell through his touches. He doesn’t want to use your body. He wants you.   “Jungkook.” The whine only spurs him on and you hold his head against you, fingers tangling to his hair.   It’s silent, except for the sounds of him kissing against your skin. Heat rises on your face, warming your cheeks. You don’t know how Jungkook can stay so careful and controlled. He never once rushes, giving plenty of opportunities for you to push him away if you so choose to.   But you don’t and he lays you on the soft hay collected in the corner of the warehouse.   You shy away from his attention, your naked body laid in front of him. But then he strips from the rest of his clothes, not letting you be the only one bare. Immediately, Jungkook reaches down to kiss you again, mouth pressed against yours like he has become dependent on your taste.   Jungkook readjusts you, getting you to sit on his lap facing him.   “Is this okay?”   You nod, gripping at his shoulders for leverage. His doe eyes lock into yours.   “Tell me if it hurts.”   “Okay.” Tears fog your vision. You’ve never been treated so gently before, not from a man or woman. While the circumstances are undesirable, bliss still blooms in your chest.    Jungkook licks his thumb and lowers his hand to continue to warm your center. You keen against him with a moan as he plays with your bud, rubbing your clit in circles and watching your expression carefully. Your slick begins to leak to his thighs, but he doesn’t seem to mind.   “J-Jungkook…”   Your eyes are teary, nose reddened from the cold. Jungkook presses his forehead to yours, your breaths laboured together. His cock lays thick in his hand, slit weeping with precum and the two of you look down, watching him align it to your folds.   His hips push up at the same time as you guide yourself down.    Jungkook groans. The pair of you are finally connected.    Strangely enough, it doesn’t hurt. Far from it and the realization makes your cheeks hot to the touch. You’re snug around him, able to feel his head nudging against your cervix.   “A-Are you okay?” he asks and you nod several times fervently.    Instead of answering in words, you close the distance with another searing kiss.    Soft smacking fills the room with his tongue licking into your mouth. Jungkook’s arms wrap around your waist, guiding you up and down your length while he meets you halfway. Your moans are muffled, his chest pressed against yours and you begin to sweat at your hairline.   You break apart.   “Jung—ko...ok.”   “Hmm?” He brushes a strand of hair away from your face.   “Harder,” you whisper so quietly that you can't hear yourself. He blinks at you, not understanding and you throw away your pride, knowing that there’s no reason to be ashamed when you’re with him. “H-Harder, please. I’m not fragile.”   The corner of his mouth quirks into a small smile, “Okay.”   Soon, indecent noises of pounding fills the room. You hug one another, keeping each other grounded with your bodies. Your arms are wrapped around his shoulders, your whines stifled against his warm skin. Jungkook tries to catch his breath, a cold cloud emitting from his parted lips.   It feels good. To have your warm and wet heat filled by Jungkook. To be stretched by him and feel him all the way to your throat. To have him so close to you. The pleasure is overwhelming.   Your slick coats his length, dripping down and making it messy where his thighs hits against your behind. It feels like you’re scratching an itch as you ride him, your cunt being bruised against his force. Pleasure thrums through you, thoughts turned to slush, surrounded in his scent. Your eyes are hazy and you feel feverish. All that befalls from your lips are broken and pitched whines of Jungkook’s name.   It gets sloppy and his strokes start to become short and frenzied in a staccato rhythm.   “J-Jungkook!”   He licks his thumb and rubs against your clit, making you sob out. Then, you come undone. You seize, squeezing around him. Light pierces through your eyelids and your toes curl. Pleasure overwhelms you until you’re spineless. At the same time, Jungkook pants heavily and his hips thrust upwards. A moment later, he’s cumming deep into your sopping cunt. His head is lodged right against the opening of your womb. Thick ropes painting your velvet walls. Hopefully to conceive.   “—Soojin visited the consort the morning after the ceremony.”   “Is that so?”   There are voices from outside and your eyes widen, lips stealing a gasp.   Immediately, Jungkook’s palm raises and cups your mouth. His brows furrow, eyes staying locked into yours and the both of you sit still, staying silent. You turn your heads and through the gaps of the wooden planks covering the window, you can see Hoseok and a minister brushing past.   “She’s never shown favour to any of the consorts.” They stop, right where you and Jungkook are naked, merely separated by a brick wall.   “Perhaps she sees something different from this girl than the others,” Hoseok hums. “Keep an eye on Empress Soojin and tell me if she does anything else out of the ordinary.”   Jungkook’s cum leaks from your center, dripping down his length.   “Yes.”   They finally pass and Jungkook’s hand falls from your mouth, finally taking a sigh of relief. Jungkook removes himself from you but only after he pushes his milky fluid back into you with his brows furrowed in concentration. He tucks his cum past your used fold into your heat.   Once satisfied, he gets up and puts back on his clothes.   You’re still reeling, not sure what to say or if you can even look him in the eye anymore. Part of you feels used. You’ve been passed from one man to the next, always with a purpose, a greater reason that your own desires. But then—   “Are you alright?”   Jungkook is tender, helping you up and brushing a strand of hair away from your face. He helps you get dressed again while you feel his cum drip down your thigh. It’s a reminder of the sins you have just committed together, something worthy of treason.   But it’s something you find yourself not minding doing again.   “I’m fine,” you murmur after you’re dressed again.   Jungkook stares at you silently, his eyes unable to be torn away from you. Then he leans forward as if driven on by sheer instinct. Jungkook’s mouth presses against yours in a sweet kiss. It catches you off guard. And then he parts with downcast eyes. “I’m sorry for doing something unnecessary.”   “It’s okay.” You meet his gaze. “I don’t...mind.”   He nods and you turn before he can see your smile. Your hand press gently against your stomach as hope blossoms through you.

Time passes and maybe the Empress notices that you’ve been smiling more because she asks— “Are you feeling any differences?” — with a careful eye and something akin to anticipation.   “Not yet,” you answer with your head dipped. “But I’m sure it may happen soon.”   The Emperor has been seeing you two times a week. But you’ve been seeing Jungkook every other day.   If the two of you are lucky, one of these days a baby will stick to your womb and neither of you will have to be worried about how doom is impending. You have a feeling though; it’s going to work.   “Empress Soojin has personally ordered a tonic for you,” the head servant says as she enters with a tray and porcelain bowl filled with an amber liquid. “It will increase your fertility.”   Your eyes flicker from her face to the bowl and the servant softens. “Don’t worry. She won’t harm you if there’s a chance you could be carrying her child.”   You trust the woman and you ease your instincts, taking the tonic. And no later are you and Jungkook’s limbs tangled in the old warehouse again, away from prying eyes and ears.   But it’s taking too long.   There isn’t any news of Seokjin’s arrival, no movement from the rebellion group whatsoever and you can tell that Emperor Minseok is losing interest in you.   As you’re passing by the pavilion, you take a brief pause.   The servant behind you also stops, aware that you are watching the way Empress Minseok is drinking and laughing with other women, being served wine as he lies on giggling girls trying to catch his attention. You aren’t jealous, far from it. But you know nothing good will come out of his boredom with you, that it will only speed up your execution date if you are still without child. His favour would prove not only advantageous to you, but to Seokjin and Jungkook.   You’re supposed to preoccupy him after all, keep him distracted.   “All hail Consort Y/N.”   The doors to the Emperor’s chambers open right as the evening sun begins to dip below the horizon. Emperor Minseok is having drinks and some dishes while there are two concubines looped around his arms.   “My beautiful consort!” He calls out to you with a grin, surprise evident on his features.   You muster a smile and dip down. “May I speak to you privately, Your Majesty?”   “Sure, sure.” He bats at the concubines, motioning at them to leave. They bow their heads and scatter out. Once alone, you lift your eyes to lock it into his. “Is there something wrong?”   “I just…” Your smile becomes shy. “...wanted to see you.”   Emperor Minseok bursts out laughing, hearty in his chest and grating to your ears. “You were lonely? Come sit.” He pats at tiny chicken thighs and you hold your breath, complying. You nearly slip off his leg, but his sticky hands are placed on your waist.   His nose digs into your neck and you accidentally flinch.    He notices, brows raising and you swiftly cover up your mistake with a smile. “It’s still...hard for me to have so much attention from you.” You fiddle with your fingers. “I’m not used to it.”   The man grins. “But you still came here.”   “Because I was lonely,” you confirm in a quiet whisper. “The palace is so grand, I don’t really know what to do…”   “It’s magnificent, isn’t it?” he mutters out of the corner of his mouth, clearly not caring about the topic of conversation anymore with the way he stares at you. It’s almost as if he’s entranced by your features and his hand reaches down to slink up your leg.   You abruptly stand and grab his collar, making him rise to his feet too. “The palace is beautiful, especially the gardens. But it’s lonely to go flower viewing by yourself.”   Emperor Minseok cups your cheek. “Then I’ll come with you next time.”   You turn away, out of his grasp. “I could never ask that of Your Majesty. I can’t be selfish and you are always so busy. Actually...I…”   “What is it?”   You duck your head, playing a bashful act. “I try to look at your painting to satisfy my loneliness.”    Emperor Minseok chortles again and you spin around with a tiny pout. You step forward until he’s fallen onto his bed, amused at your boldness. “But it’s hard,” you say as you begin to climb on top of him. “There’s not many paintings of you.”   You position yourself so he’s underneath you. You straddle his hips, a coy smile at your features. “For a grand palace like this, one would think there would be more.”   “You’re right.” The Emperor is breathless, already excited after barely ten seconds. His greedy hands come up to grab your bottom, but you push him off so he doesn’t touch you.   “My father once commissioned a painter,” you murmur as you slowly tug his trousers down. “He was quite immature and eccentric, but his skills are unrivaled with.”   “W-What is his name?” His eyes watch you, pathetically salivating. You wonder if he’s going to cum in his pants already.   “I...think his name was Kang Seokjin,” you lie, quirking your head to the side. You grab his tiny, red cock that looks like it’s about to burst and he groans. “Have you never heard of him? He’s quite infamous in the East.”   “I-I’ve never.”   You hum, tugging your many skirts up and his eyes pin to your exposed skin. “Well, he’s a free-spirit and rarely does paintings, even for people who pay for it. Gold doesn’t buy him. My father had to beg him for weeks and even then he was reluctant.”   He scoffs. “He would never deny the Emperor.”   “Of course.” You align him up to your pink folds. Yet, you linger, putting the crumbling man under you in great suspense. “But…”   Emperor Minseok blinks at you, becoming impatient. “But?”   “You never know till you try, right?”    You drop down like the way Jungkook taught you to. You know better now how to satisfy a man, how to satisfy yourself, what kind of rhythm works best. But it only takes two swivels of your hips and one groan from him until he’s done and finishes. Emperor Minseok has tired himself out and succumbs to the seduction of sleep almost immediately with a smile on his face.    You roll off of him as he starts to snore.   You feel disgusted — skin grimy and crawling, the pit in your stomach growing with queasiness, revolted at what you had to do. But you know bathing and scrubbing your skin until it’s raw won’t be enough to satisfy you. It won’t be enough to cleanse yourself from him. So you leave the Emperor’s chambers as quickly as you came, abandoning the greasy man on the bed and shutting the doors behind you.   In the dark, you hurry as fast as your feet can take you.    You’re out of breath by the time you’ve twisted through the structures and pavilions. But relief comes in the form of a doe-eyed, dark-haired individual. The person you’ve been wanting to run to.   The person you’ve been yearning for.   “What are you doing here?” he scolds sharply, standing as you slide the doors behind you. The candlelight flickers, providing a dim glow on the profile of his face. “What if someone saw you?”   “They didn’t and they won’t.”    The bedroom Jungkook’s stationed in is tiny, a round table and two stools with a large opening for where his bed fits into the wall as if it were built in. But none of it matters to you. You don’t care that he has nothing but a sword and some folded clothes. All you care about is that he’s here.   “And what if you were caught?”   “Every time we do this, we risk getting caught.” You quiet his worries by closing the distance. You cradle his cheeks in your palm and kiss him frantically, sealing your mouth against his.   Jungkook hums to the sweet taste of your lips, licking into your hot mouth, but then he pulls away. “Wait.” His hands secure around your shoulders and he searches your expression after noticing the way your eyes have become teary. “Is there something wrong?”   You shake your head. “I just want you. Is...is that so bad?”   The candle is blown out, flooding the room in a comfortable, intimate darkness. But close up, you can still see Jungkook with the faded moonlight coming through the paper walls.    His back falls against the bed, but Jungkook doesn’t give you a long opportunity to climb and sit above him. He whirls you around until it’s your body that molds against the soft surface of his bed, preferring to take care of you than vice versa. And when he undresses you and sees the sopping mess between your legs, he understands what this is all about.    Why you’re so desperate for his touch.   “Let’s get rid of this,” he murmurs tenderly, not at once hesitating and you nod.    Jungkook kisses you again, deep and earnestly until you’re panting against him and he’s swallowing your exhales. Then his mouth travels downwards, careful this time not to leave a bruising mark against your skin where others could see in spite of longing to mark you. The man’s tongue ends up wrapping around your soft breast, allowing the bud to pebble underneath the warm muscle. You keen into him with a sob, arms wrapped around his neck and he continues mercilessly.   His lips travel down to your stomach and once your skin has gotten warm to the touch, your body writhing against the sheets stained with his scent, he positions you upwards. On his lap. Facing him.   Jungkook brushes away the strands of your hair, tucking it behind your ear and he gently holds your chin, turning your head so your eyes can lock into his. “Look at me,” he pleads in a husky timbre.   You nod and he positions himself at your dripping center, allowing you to drop down when you choose to. And when you do, the two of you groan while keeping your gazes connected.   It feels like he’s filled a void that you didn’t know was there. He’s a snug fit around your velvet heat, stretching just enough that pleasure thrums through you. “J-Jungkook.”   He makes a noise at the back of his throat, understanding what you’re feeling and he leans in for another kiss, his tongue wrapping around yours and drawing more sounds out of you.   The two of you work with each other. Your hips swivel as he pounds upwards into you, pelvises rubbed against one another to clear away Emperor Minseok’s fluids. Jungkook works hard while you squeeze and the cum drips out of you in clumps. It sticks to your thighs and his thick length, drying unpleasantly, but soon it’s only your wetness that comes out from your center.   Jungkook’s hands hold your body, touching you anywhere you guide him to. And you lean onto his sturdy frame, holding onto his built shoulders. Finally, you feel clean. You feel loved.   You kiss him again and his thrusts stutter.   It’s intimate, the sounds of gasping breaths and skin slapping on skin filling the darkness.   Jungkook can tell you’re close and rubs against your clit mercilessly and you cry, quickening your own pace to chase after your pleasure. But before you can finish, he turns your head again.   “Look at me, Y/N,” he says and you nod, teeth sinking into your bottom lip.   You cum while looking into Jungkook’s doe eyes, trying your best to keep them open. And as you squeeze around him, hugging against his cock, he cums. Deep into your heat, right at your cervix. Claiming you as his. Ropes of milky white spurting in then leaking down out of your folds.    All while keeping his tender gaze trained on yours.   You kiss Jungkook again, letting him soften within you, keeping him here just a moment longer.   You love Jungkook. It’s a fact that you don’t want to face in light of the situation — one that you had tried to deny for the sake of your own sanity, but it’s all too true. You love him. And every time he holds you, it feels like you’re making love together. If only things were different, maybe you could’ve had a future together. Maybe you could’ve gotten Seokjin’s blessing and married Jungkook, started a family together and lived a humble life for the rest of your days.   But that desperate and simple wish seems so far out of reach.   Overwhelmed with emotion, you try to keep your tears at bay. Yet, they shed down your cheeks and in the intimate darkness, Jungkook holds you close to him.

It’s one afternoon while you’re walking in the gardens with the poor servant assigned to you following closely behind that you recognize a dark-haired, mischievous individual that you had missed. But you don’t call out to your brother, no matter how much you want to. You keep yourself poised, distant.   “Oh, Consort Y/N. Glad to see you wandering,” the head eunuch, a man you’ve spoken to little, says with a smile.   You keep your head lowered, a tiny smile that is all too genuine on your features. “Empress Soojin said it would be good for my health, so I have followed her instructions.”   “Well yes. Indeed it is.” He grins and then seems to remember the taller, younger man beside him. The head eunuch steps aside and motions towards your older brother. “This is Kang Seokjin. He is a painter from the East that Emperor Minseok has commissioned. Seokjin, this is the Emperor’s most recent consort, Consort Y/N. But I believe you have met before.”   “Only briefly.” You lift your eyes towards your sibling who smiles. “It is nice to see you again.”   “Yes, nice to see you again.” Seokjin’s eyes speak more than his words do and the two of you look at one another for a long moment, exchanging meaningful expressions and taking in the differences that two months have done.   “Well, I must head off now.” You break away the stare, keeping yourself unsuspicious. “It was pleasant to meet your acquaintance again.”   You pass Seokjin, but the two of you look at one another from the corner of your eyes.   He’s finally in the court and a sense of relief fills you. If a few more ministers agree to turn against the Emperor, everything will be complete. It’s Seokjin’s turn to act and now only time will tell.

In the middle of the night when the palace has gone asleep, you sneak from your quarters.   The dirty warehouse has become your sanctuary with Jungkook, a place you’ve grown fond of because it holds your most precious memories. It was this place that you looked forward to the most. That kept you sane. That always promised that your favourite person was waiting inside.    It’s tonight with the full moon out that you get to savour the moment. After the deed has been done, you’re slumped in Jungkook’s arms, naked with just his outer coat around your shoulders.   You take his right hand, uncurling his fingers. Carefully, you trace letters against his warm palm.   “Kim?” Jungkook questions after a moment of concentration.   “Kim means gold,” you murmur and trace more letters against his skin. With your head leaning against his chest, you can hear his soothing heartbeat in your ear. “Seok means great. Jin means precious. Together, it means great gift or big treasure.”   If things were different, you would’ve liked to be a scholar. Transcribing books all day long or writing your own, perhaps creating poetry about nature. As a child, you hated studying and preferred to play like Seokjin did. But it was now that you yearned for those simple times again.   You know Jungkook’s name too and you trace each letter against his palm with your index finger carefully. “Jeon means rice. Jung spindle tree. Kook is country. Together, it means to have a beautiful country.”   “Pillars of the nation,” he clarifies quietly. “Or at least that’s what I think my grandfather intended when he named me.”   “They’re such great names. I hope….the name of our child will be meaningful too,” you hum drowsily while dreaming of the possibilities. “If it’s a boy, Minkook, the country of the people. If it’s a girl, Yujin, meaning full of stars…”    The both of you know you won’t be able to name your child. Not if it’s born within these stone walls. Not when everyone believes it is the Emperor’s. The baby will be taken away from you the moment it’s out, raised while calling the Empress their mother and you would be a nobody.    But then Jungkook dispels away your anguish, even if it’s just for a second. “They’re beautiful names.”   The corner of your lips quirk and you blink sleepily. You tell him about your dream, a memory of the future you have conjured to comfort you, “They would be raised in a quiet home on top of a hill. Where we could see the sunset and sunrise every day. There would be grass where the children could play. A river nearby to wash the clothes too…”   Jungkook’s arms tighten around you and you feel the press of his lips against your temple. “That would be perfect.”   You hum again silently with a smile, falling asleep with Jungkook right beside you. And it’s all you know you can have.   //   Empress Soojin enters your chambers the moment you are doubled over in a copper bowl, the contents of last night’s dinner squeezed painfully from your stomach. The world is on an axis, your head dizzy since you had awoken. But when you realize she’s standing there and taking in your crumpled form, you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and try to stand.   “Your Majesty…”    The Empress rushes over to steady you, her eyes wide and full of surprise. “You feel nauseous?” Your expression meets hers, your face drained of all blood. The silence speaks for itself. Empress Soojin immediately whirls around to her parade of servants, anticipation etched on her features. “Call the physician!”   No sooner are you laid in the bed with the physician pressing two fingers on your wrist, quiet as he listens to your heartbeat. The Empress is crowding around, her hands gathered together but still trembling. Then the old man lifts his head with brightened eyes.   “She has been with child for two months now. It’s extraordinarily healthy and strong.”   Empress Soojin stumbles back. Her palm is pressed against her chest, her breath staggering out of her parted lips. And you lift yourself, your hand laid on your stomach that has yet to swell.   It’s your child and Jungkook’s.   “From now on, only consume cold foods and make sure it is properly cut or mashed,” he says as he wobbles to his feet. “Avoid shellfish and pineapple too. I will prescribe a herbal tonic that you can take daily.”   “Thank you.” Empress Soojin is grinning and comes to your side to envelop you in a warm embrace that you aren’t used to. “Are you still feeling unwell? Are you hungry? It is important to nourish yourself for this baby.”    When you shake your head, having no appetite, she nods and looks around. “This place is so rancid and dusty.” The Empress spits several servant’s names and they step forth with bowed heads. “Clean this room immediately! We will go on a walk in the meanwhile and get fresh air.”    There is little you can do to deny the whims of the Empress who’s more alive than you’ve ever seen her before. So while your room is cleaned and redecorated with luxurious sheets and golden vases, you’re guided by her on a walk around the garden.   The news spreads like wildfire, passing from servant to servant to official declarations.   Within a few minutes, Emperor Minseok is bounding over. There’s a grin plastered on his sweaty face, the strands of his hair sticking together. He’s out of breath, still in horseback riding gear like he had gotten off a few seconds ago and you recognize Seokjin behind him in the same attire.   “You’re expecting a child?!” Emperor Minseok exclaims loudly, startling you. He’s jumping and you muster a stiff smile, not sure what you should say. But he doesn’t give you an opportunity to. He immediately reaches out to your stomach with his greasy and soot filled hands. “Is it moving?”   But he never lays a hand on you.   Empress Soojin slaps his hand away and her brows furrow sternly. “The child is at a delicate stage. These are not trivial matters.” She pinches her nose. “And the horses’ stench that you’ve brought here is defeating the purpose of coming out here for fresh air.”   “Of course, of course.” Emperor Minseok smiles, retracting his arm.   Your eyes meet Seokjin’s and the corner of his mouth quirks warmly into a familiar smile. “Congratulations, Your Highness. May your child have great blessings as you do.”   You bow your head, trying to not prolong your gaze and arouse suspicion. “Thank you.”   “But…” Emperor Minseok’s eyes flicker between you and the Empress. “Does this mean I will get another concubine soon since I can’t play with Y/N anymore?”   Immediately, Empress Soojin is distraught. Hurt comes across her features as if she’s been slapped and for once, you sympathize with her. She never answers, merely turning around. “We should get you back inside for some rest. It’s not good to be in the cold wind for too long.”   You nod, glancing at your brother behind your shoulder and after a moment, you follow her.   But as you’re making your way back, your path is intercepted by Jungkook on his way to the courtyard. He’s dressed in black robes that match his long hair tied back, holding a sheathed sword as always. Yet what’s different from before is the tenderness of his eyes.   Jungkook doesn’t need to speak for you to understand. You’ve come to learn all the ways he communicates through silence.   “I heard about the news,” he says and you slow to a complete stop. “Congratulations, Your Highness.”   “Thank you.” You savour the moment, looking at him with a soft smile.    To the Empress who turns around to see the delay, the exchange is simply between a guard and consort without connection. She doesn’t know that the meaningful gaze is shared between a mother and father to be, two secret lovers separated by circumstance.   //   There’s many good wishes and felicitations given to you. Even Minister Park, your supposed uncle, makes an extravagant gesture by personally delivering a basket of fresh fruits and vegetables that makes Empress Soojin command the servants to re-wash. But the person you least expect to receive praise and blessings from is Jung Hoseok. In spite of that, he is here in your room, having shown up suddenly.   It’s a surprise and you struggle to get up from your bed.   “Are you alright?” he asks, concerned. “You don’t really need to stand—”   You muster a smile and manage to sit up. “It’s quite alright. I was always taught that the least I can do is greet a guest properly.”   The thin, middle-aged man rubs the gray scruff on his chin and you can feel his sharp eyes that probe into you. The way he studies you carefully would cause sweat to bead along your forehead if not for how safe you feel. It’s not from Empress’ insinuated promise of protection or that you’re abstained from execution or knowing Jungkook would defend you at any cost either.    Ever since you’ve found out that there was life budding within you, you’ve felt safe.   You’re no longer alone. No matter where you go, you carry someone else with you.   And now there’s never been a stronger reason for you to fight, to be strong and unafraid.   “I heard the physician was called this morning,” Hoseok says.   “It was just morning sickness.”   The man hums, arms shifting to place behind his back. “Well, the Empress made quite an uproar.”   “She often worries about me and the child,” you state plainly and it almost sounds like a threat, one Hoseok visibly acknowledges with a cocked brow. But you don’t dwell, clearing your throat and putting a pleasant expression on your face. “May I ask for what reason you’ve graced me with your presence?”    “I just wanted to visit the future emperor.” Hoseok’s eyes linger on your stomach and his smile becomes wry. “It’s quite a miracle, isn’t it? It’s no secret that there has been….some difficulty for a child to be produced. And for it to last this long too. The physician said it was exceptionally strong.”   Your smile stretches, but mirth never reaches your eyes. “The Mandate of Heaven grants miracles. It must be a divine wish and I am honoured to be the one fulfilling it.”   “Yes.” He nods and then notes, “well, you’ve gotten close to the Emperor’s guard, haven’t you?”   “I have no idea what you mean.”   Hoseok eyes you and it goes silent.   Then, you sit back down with the back of your hand pressed to your forehead. You gasp for breath and bat at yourself. “I’m beginning to feel faint. I think I need to lay down. It would be best if you were to leave, minister. God forbid...something happens to this child otherwise.”   Hoseok scoffs, but turns to exit.   Your fist clench, wrinkling the sheets underneath your hold. You’ll do whatever it takes to protect Jungkook’s child.   //   The fourth month milestone of your pregnancy is eventually reached without many qualms or complications. You’re less nauseous than you were before, but the queasiness has been replaced with hunger that often strikes in the middle of the night. You’re given teas and tonics, tested to make sure there is no poison — something Empress Soojin obsesses over and screams if there’s even a hair in the liquid which you’re still not sure if it’s worth laughing about or being scared of. Your breathing has become laboured too, even after short walks.   But most importantly, you’ve begun to feel strange sensations. Flutters in your stomach that the physician says is the movement of the child and when they happen, you can’t help caressing the bump that’s not so tiny anymore.   While things have been going smoothly, you’ve been put under strict monitoring for a whole month.   You’re protected, out of harm’s way. The only people who visit you are the physician, the head servant, a few other servants, and Empress Soojin who constantly and excessively frets over you — her incubator to her supposed baby. Her kindness and concern is meant for the child, not for you and you’re fully aware. It’s not that it matters to you, but it’s something you keep in mind.   You’ve heard the Emperor has found himself new concubines to preoccupy his time with too. Ever the same as he disregards matters of the nation to have innocent girls and conniving concubines lay underneath him. At least you’re untouchable to him now, out of reach and far away.   But it comes at a price.   You can’t see Seokjin. And you can’t see Jungkook either.   Your only connection to him is the swelling of your stomach, a sizable bulge that you can rest your hands against.   You miss Jungkook — so much that it hurts to think about. And it’s yearning for him constantly that makes you question your ears when you hear his voice whispering your name one night.   But it isn’t your imagination.   “J-Jungkook?”   “Don’t get up,” he says, shadow laid against the paper walls of your room. Your eyes trace against the black outline, lump forming in your throat at how this is the closest you can get to him. “I just wanted to come by and tell you that in three days, it’s happening. The ministers and other government officials have agreed to turn against the Emperor and Jung Hoseok. They’re going to force him to abdicate.”   He did it. Seokjin did it. The realization has tears flooding your vision.   “I’ll come for you,” he promises.   The tall shadow moves away, but you call out to him before he leaves—   “Jungkook.” He stops at the soft enunciation of his name, a beck and call made with emotion. And your heart stutters, knowing that the day your yearning will cease is coming close. “The physician thinks it’s a boy. I do too.”   He lingers.   If you could see him, you’d find an affectionate smile stretching into his cheeks.   Jungkook murmurs, “I hope Minkook will be as handsome as his father and as strong as his mother.”   Tears stream down your face. The corner of your lip lifts as Jungkook’s shadow fades.   //   You count down the hours, the minutes, the seconds. They pass by tediously, but excitement swells in your chest as you consider that in three days time, you will have freedom. A life with Jungkook. Seokjin by your side. Your child in your arms, never to be taken away from you.   It’s all you wished for since you stepped foot into the palace. But perhaps even before then.   You might’ve never loved Jungkook the way you do now or yearned to hold your healthy baby close to you, yet it has always been clear that doing anything and being anywhere would’ve been better than here. Even with the careful treatment you receive, this isn’t what you want.   So you wait. Patiently. For the promised day to arrive.   But it’s the day before the expected overthrow that there’s chaos in the middle of the night.    “Y/N!” You’re shaken away by Empress Soojin. Her sudden appearance shocks you out of your peaceful slumber and you’re left gasping for breath. But she’s frantic, eyes nearly falling out of their sockets. She’s still in her nightgown, hair in a disarray. The woman holds you by your shoulders, making you rise. “There’s something going on. I—I n-need to bring you to safety.”   The Empress guides you upwards, shouldering your weight. Once you’re on your feet again, she grabs a silk overcoat and secures it around your shoulders. “Quickly. There’s no time to waste.”   “Your Majesty.” You try to shake the sleepiness away, wondering if it was all a dream. “What’s going on?”   One of your hands is held in hers while the other rests underneath your swollen stomach, supporting the heaviness of the baby. “There’s a carriage waiting for you.”   There’s yelling from the distance, footsteps on the roof that make your head tilt. But you’re unable to discern what they’re saying, what’s occurring. All you know is that you’re about to be sent away. Without Seokjin — without Jungkook.    “Wait.” You struggle to catch up to her pace, confusion inhibiting your movements. Yet she still pulls you along, past the structures and paths shrouded in darkness. “I can’t leave.”   “It doesn’t matter,” Empress Soojin says, more serious than you’ve ever had the chance of witnessing. “You have to protect the baby at all costs.”   She’s desperate to protect you, to protect your child. She came to you first when she could’ve run on her own and left you asleep. She chose to keep you from harm over her own well-being.   Time and time again, Empress Soojin has made sure you were watched over.   And the realization makes guilt well up your throat.   Your steps slow and your arm tugs her back.   “This baby,” you whisper, “it doesn’t belong to who you think it does.”   But Empress Soojin’s hand tightens on yours and she turns around. Her brows are drawn together, the corners of her mouth tilted in a sorrowful smile. “Don’t you think I know that? But it doesn’t matter,” she spits in the midst of your shock and continues pulling you. “The child is supposed to be mine. It will be mine. It’s the only way I can be a mother.”   Before you can get a single word out, she turns the corner and there are deafening shouts. A clamour of feet stomping against the wooden floorboards, the clinking of heavy armour following grunts— “Stop right there!”   “Stand down!” Her voice is unwavering, strong as she pushes you behind her. “I am your Empress—!”   But they are Hoseok’s guards.    You recognize them from having followed the man around, from standing by during the ceremony and other celebrations you’ve been a spectator to. They have sworn their allegiance to him. Not to Emperor Minseok and most certainly not to Empress Soojin.   But she doesn’t seem to understand she’s been caught, that she’s a mouse cornered by two felines. She is naive and continues to scream at them for their disobedience. You try to tug her away, to get her to run, yet her pride is much too strong and you’re yanked away.    Sideways. The collar of your coat is taken by the bloodied knuckles of the guard. Stumbling. He clicks his tongue in annoyance at the ear-piercing Empress and in an effort to silence the ordeal, his weapon raises against you. His sword is high in the air, prepared to slash and end this nightmare.   Except, his blade never hits you.   Even when you shut your eyes, wrap your arms around your stomach to protect your child, hitch your breath, bracing yourself for the cut…..   “NO!”    Empress Soojin throws herself in front of you, her arms outstretched, allowing herself to take the blow as she is ripped from across her right shoulder to the left hip. She spits blood, warm crimson spewing out and splattering onto your cheeks. The world seems to come to a stop.   Your breathing ceases. The guard’s eyes shake for having hacked the Empress herself.   Yet she does not yield in spite of the wound that drips blood to the floor in droplets with a steady rhythm, that soaks into her white nightgown, marring the clean colour. She lurches forward, grabbing a torch attached to the wall and shouts, “Stay back!”   Her yell is howled out from her throat, jarring to the ears, full of wrath and will. And she throws the torch, allowing searing flames to engulf the corridor.   The guards stagger backwards with widened eyes and after a delayed moment, they retreat with profanities before the smoke can engulf their form.   Empress Soojin collapses.   You drop down to her as sobs wreck through your frame. As calculating and thoughtless as she has been, she has never once been insincere to you. She has never abandoned you. You cradle Soojin’s head into your lap, trying to wipe at her mouth with the sleeve of your silk overcoat. But she bats your arm away. Her hazy eyes remain connected with yours.   “P-protect the child…..prom...ise me…”   You nod, tears staining your cheeks forevermore. But you stand, finding leverage against the wall that was slowly being consumed by the sweltering fire and you run. As fast as your weak knees allow you to.   You leave Soojin behind — laying on the floor — staring up at the ceiling.    She dies before being taken by the fire bleeding through the palace.   You run, unsure of where to go but away from the uproar of people, the bloodshed and clashing of swords, away from the blazing inferno, collapsing ceilings and smog that chases your shadow. And it’s when you begin to lose breath and come to a four-way path that you nearly collide with another body.   A scream tears out of your chest until you find warm, familiar eyes.   “Jin?!”   Your brother’s hands secure around your shoulders and he lowers himself for your gazes to meet. “Are you alright?” His chest rises and falls, steadying his breathing as well and you notice the sword dangling by his side, unsuitable and much too lanky. Seokjin has always suited brushes and books more than weapons — something you wish you had told him sooner.   “I—I’m fine, but Empress Soojin. I...I left her behind and she’s wounded. There’s fire….fire!”   “Y/N,” Seokjin calls you calmly and sternly. “Are you okay?”    You nod and he sighs, pulling away. “Then that’s all that matters.”   “What’s going on, Jin?! I thought the abdication was going to be tomorrow.”   “Some of the ministers changed their minds last minute. They decided they wanted to remain loyalists to the Emperor for fear of their families being punished. The revolt has been moved up.”   “Revolt?! I thought….I thought they were just going to force him to abdicate!” You didn’t know that there would be such violence. That all of this was planned prior. It makes you queasy.   “Sometimes sacrifice is needed,” Seokjin merely states. “But you don’t have to worry. We still have the majority of the ministers’ support. They would’ve still voted in favour of abdicating the Emperor from his throne.”    Your brows are drawn tightly together and you shake your head. “What does that mean?”   “It means we’re going to win.” Your older brother smiles, his eyes crinkling, a sense of elation evidently filling his features. But you wonder what the cost of the rebellion coming to fruition is. “I know you’re not carrying the Emperor's child. It’s Jungkook’s, isn’t it?”   Seokjin searches your expression for any confirmation, but unlike how you thought he would be wary of your relationship with his close friend and the dangers that came along with it, he appears more relieved.   “Jungkook told me,” he explains, “and I told him to come find you. Stay here, alright?”   “What?” You grab a hold of your older brother before he can run off, before he can disappear with your worry for him being abandoned with you yet again. “Where are you going?”   “I’m going to find Hoseok before he can run away. I’m going to give him what he deserves.”   Every syllable is spoken with malice, a sharpness and anticipation flooded between each pause.    But you hang onto Seokjin, refusing to let go. You gaze at your sibling, his eyes and hair that appear darker in this lack of lighting, the downturn of his mouth, his shoulders and frame that seem to have gotten thinner in the months you haven’t seen him. You’ve missed Jin so much.   And at this moment, you don’t care that the fire is spreading through the palace. That there was smoke already spread at the ceiling. Bloodshed and pitched screams not far from where you stand. You turn deaf to those noises, to the crackling of the flames, the uprising’s cry.   “Do you really need to do this? Isn’t this enough already?”   “No. It’s not. I won’t be satisfied until I know that bastard hasn’t run away.”   “Please, Seokjin,” you beg with your entire frame, fingers tightening on his sleeve until your knuckles have turned white. You do all that you can to reach him, begging him, pleading with him as his younger sister. “D-Don’t go. I miss you. We’re….we’re family. I only have you left and I...I don’t want you to go anymore. Stay with me, please. Please, please, that's all I ask.”   You remember. Days under the sun where you would follow him. Days he would take dull sticks and poke you incessantly. Days he would piggyback you and tell you stories he made up off the top of his head. That day the two of you hid in the woven baskets and witnessed the massacre of your family until he covered your eyes with his small hands still dirty from picking flowers.   “Don’t go.”   But Seokjin’s has already made up his mind. All by himself.   You can tell with the way his eyes become saddened, how he merely leans in to plant a kiss at your forehead, how he pulls out of your grasps. Seokjin runs off and you try to chase him as if you were still children playing games in the forest. But just like then, he’s faster than you are.   “Seokjin!”   He runs, disappearing into the darkness.   “Jin!” And you’re left alone. Abandoned. Sobbing heart wrenchingly until your whole being aches. “Kim Seokjin!”   You call out to him to no avail, watching the backside of your only brother fading away.

Seokjin hears you, loud and clear. But he doesn’t turn around.    He twists around the corner, sword slashing anyone who comes in his way. After years of training, it’s no longer difficult to drive his blade into bodies and let their blood splatter on his hands. It’s rather easy when he consumes himself in his hatred and anger.   Seokjin kills any guards still wearing the royal emblem or those who have sworn their allegiance to Jung Hoseok, and any ministers who have decided to stay as loyalists. He spares servants, letting them run past him as they cry, begging for mercy. And he persists, even when he has to lurch forward, the gash of his shoulder dripping of his blood and the nicks on his face sting painfully.   He makes it to the grand throne room. The red carpet is rolled in front of him, golden candle lights providing piercing luminescence but making his own shadow darker. This is the place that once held extravagant celebrations to welcome the Emperor’s consorts that were disposed of months later, that held dancers and musicians for the entertainment of the ministers, that failed to save the nation from poverty and famine.   And now, Seokjin finds Hoseok seated on the throne.    The man is alone. Pouring his last cup of wine to drink.   “Jung Hoseok!” Seokjin’s voice booms across the hall, his steps finding vigor as they close the distance. “You can’t run anymore!”   “I know,” the middle-aged man says after he sips and smacks his lips, savouring the taste of wine. “I know I’ve lost. It must feel good to undermine my position, huh? I should’ve known better than to underestimate you, but those are things of the past. I can’t change them now.”   His calmness exasperates Seokjin to his core.   And Hoseok rises to his feet, brushing his robes behind him. His arms are placed behind his back as he walks down the steps of the throne, finally facing the younger man. But he isn’t surrendering, far from it when he takes the sword from the stand and points it at Jin.   There’s shouting, an ear-splitting clash of metal against the crackle of the flames becoming louder as they seep through the back wall. Hoseok is stiff, age having slowed his movements. He isn’t as agile as Seokjin is, doesn’t have his fervour, but it’s clear to Jin that he’s not going without a fight. That he will never give up out of his own will. Hoseok would rather burn here.   “You killed my family!” Seokjin spits when their blades crash against each other again, the older barely able to deflect.   The corner of Hoseok’s mouth tugs. “I ended many families.”   Seokjin never tells him about the Kim family, about how his father and mother were both executed when knelt on the dirty ground, how his uncles and aunts were brutalized before being murdered, that the servants’ sobs only stopped once their breathing ceases.    Seokjin doesn’t tell, just because he has an inkling, a fear that Hoseok won’t even remember.   So he lets his grief speak for itself— “You will pay for what you’ve done.”   There’s a swing, another clatter. Hoseok stumbles back before lifting his sword again.   There’s a chance. An opportunity. Seokjin could deflect, could move away swiftly without a blink to waste, but his eyes instead pinpoint to Hoseok’s open abdomen. A perfect spot and he seizes the moment.   He drives the sword forward.   Until he can hear the breath in the older man hitch, see the way his pupils tremble. Even when the cost is that Hoseok’s own blade digs into his shoulder and tears it down into his chest.   Blood pours like rain on an April afternoon. It drips in a rhythmic beat, coating the empty throne room until the iron stench overwhelms the smoke of the burning, golden walls.   Seokjin uses the remaining of his strength to step back, pulling the sword out of Hoseok. The blood-soaked blade crashes to the ground at the same time as Hoseok’s own body collapses.   And Jin falls back a moment later. The pool of his blood is warm, the fire enveloping the room sweltering. He stares at the magnificently painted ceiling before shutting his eyes for the final time.    The corners of Seokjin’s mouth tugs upwards into a smile.   We’ve won, Y/N.

At the same time, you stumble.

  The wind knocks out of your lungs as your knees buckle. You’re grabbed by one of Hoseok’s guards, pulled back until your arm feels like it’s being yanked out of its socket. You cry out as agony overwhelms you and the guard wheezes over the exhaust of the fire engulfing the palace and paints the wooden structures into bright scarlet.    “She’s here!” he shouts while you struggle.    But before you can be taken, dragged towards the center of the palace, there’s a low grunt from the guard. A short shout is made and he suddenly drops, revealing your saviour. Doe eyes and dark hair, his hands splattered in carmine and his brows knitted closely together.   “J-Jungkook!”   He embraces you in an instant, arms wrapping around your frame for the first time in ages. His nose digs into your hair, your face into his shoulder as you shake. “It’s okay, it’s okay, I’m here now,” he soothes you in a murmur that you desperately hang on to.   But the intimate moment doesn’t last for long.   Jungkook pulls away. “We have to go. There’s an open entrance in the back by the stables.”   “Wait—wait, Jungkook! Jin. I couldn’t stop him. He—he went to find...he went to find Jung Hoseok and he went towards the fire. I can’t leave him behind. He’s my only brother. Please go look for him, please,” you beg him, hands tightening on his. “I can’t go without him.”   “I know,” Jungkook tells you with lips lopsided. “But I need to make sure you’re safe first. I need to fulfill my promise to him. This is what he wanted, okay?”   You nod, putting your trust in him and quicken your pace. The faster you go, the more time they’ll be for Jungkook to return and search for Jin before it’s too late. But as the two of you interlace your hands, running alongside one another, you’re stopped meters away from the circular opening of the wall.   “Stop!” Emperor Minseok shouts pathetically. He’s obviously shaken, his hair in a disarray, his once magnificent robes dirtied and fluttering open. He is with two other guards wielding weapons, but without his clothes and servants, it is clear that he is undeserving of his title.   He is not an Emperor.   “Y-You can’t leave! That child is mine!” Minseok points to your stomach.   “This isn’t your child!” you shout back at him and the man seemingly pales, eyes horrified as his mouth drops open. “It has never been.”   “You….You!”   There’s a clamour above the roar of the fire consuming the entire palace. The last of his guards were coming from the corridor and your hand squeezes Jungkook’s.   If you die here, then so be it. But you will do so protecting your child until your very last breath.   Yet, Jungkook has other plans and it doesn’t encompass your death.    “Run,” he whispers sharply into your ear and you whirl around to look at him. “I’ll hold them off. Run and don’t look back.”   “But—”   “I love you.” Jungkook smiles. His doe eyes crinkle, shining in the flames bleeding to your feet. “I’ll see you again.”   He pushes you forward and your feet move on instinct. You run with your arms wrapped around your swollen center, breaths stolen from your parted lips and your eyes shut tight. The guards swing their swords around, but their blades never touch you. There’s a clatter of metal, blades striking one another.   Minseok reaches out to seize you, not letting you get away. But his fingertips merely skim the tips of your hair. You hear his grunt, a smothered sound coming from his mouth, the drop of a body.   You run. Out through the entrance. Up the dirt incline until your feet begin to slip. Until the darkness has completely covered your form from sight. Until sheer exhaustion forces you to stop.   Against Jungkook’s will, you turn around.   You watch as the raging fire engulfs the palace, eating away at the structure that stretches across the horizon, as blazing as the sunlight at dawn itself. And you fall to your knees, sobbing for the people you love.

[Epilogue]   The dynasty has fallen.   New people have taken over old places and you wonder if it was all futile — if history will repeat itself once more — if Seokjin’s sacrifice has been made in vain. For his sake, you hope not.   After the rebellion and riots on the streets by the common people, the loyalists of the old empire have been driven away from the country. But you know there’s few of them that are still after you because of your ties to the rebels. There are those on the uprising’s side that are seeking to kill you too. They believe that your child belongs to the deceased Emperor and many would rather be safe than sorry, not wanting to risk his bloodline being in existence at all.   But one look at the babbling baby trying to stand in front of you and his striking doe eyes and dark hair, you know for certain that he is of Jungkook’s blood and bones.   “Minkook, what are you doing?”   You pick up your mischievous, chubby toddler to place on your hip.   His grabby hands take your hair and his mouth circles, trying to sound out syllables and string them together. “M-Mum..mum..mama…”   You smile, nuzzling into him. “Are you hungry?”   Those who believe you, the ones closest to Seokjin, have chosen to protect you from the threats. After the birth, you were brought to a safe house far from the capital where no one knows your name or your child’s. It’s a modest home on top of a green hill, close to the riverbend and where you can see the sunrise and sunset. It’s peaceful and every morning and evening, you’re able to sit on the steps. Waiting.   They told you about Seokjin. You heard that several of them saw his body before the entire palace went up into flames, but there’s been no news of Jungkook. No sighting of him.   It’s been eleven months since that time. Six from when Minkook was born.   You don’t know Jungkook’s whereabouts, don’t know if he can even find you with where you’re hidden now, how he will manage to get himself here. But you believe in his promise. You trust that you will see him again.   “Goodnight, Min.”   Your sleepy toddler is unable to keep his eyes open for any longer and succumbs to the seduction of sleep. You plant a tender kiss on the top of his round head and set down on the bed, still softly humming a lullaby that Seokjin had taught you so long ago — a way you keep his memory alive. Once Minkook is secure and safe, your footsteps pad quietly across the floor.    You come outside, shutting the door behind you, sitting on the wooden steps.   The last light of the sun is fading from the sky. The horizon is painted in murky shades of tangerine and rose, the clouds wispy and floating in shapes that you and your brother once tried to discern as children. Someday, your own children will lay in the grass staring at the sky because of his sacrifice and yours. But for now, you watch the sun fall.    You watch as night takes over the evening, how another day has passed.   But as you turn to head inside as the sky starts to be filled with stars, your breath hitches in your throat.   You blink hard to ensure that it's not a dream. That the illusion has not imprinted into your mind after so much desperation and time. But the sight is all too real when you open your eyes again.   Over the horizon at a distance and in the last dwindling light of the evening, there is a man with doe eyes and dark hair approaching. His gaze meets yours and a tender smile stretches into his cheeks. His features are tired as if he has been traveling for days, clothes ragged and ripped.   But none of it matters.   Jungkook comes closer and closer towards you. And you run, meeting him halfway as tears flood your vision. You leap forward and he laughs, arms catching you in a tight embrace.   The two of you are finally reunited at last.

Making of a big boy

(A journey to a big life)

First 50

Matt is a student, 22 years old, and a guy who loves to eat. He looks good with his thick brown head of hair, beard, and brown eyes, and his strong body is not overly hairy. Though he does a lot of sports, he has gained a good 30 pounds over the last years. He weighs 210 pounds on a 5’11 frame, and the flab shows on his middle. He would like to lose a few pounds, but with his hearty appetite .. When we go the all you can eat-buffet, Matt can’t resist the delicious food and eats plate after plate, lining up six times before full. Since it is fun, we make buffets and BBQs a frequent habit. He proves to be a heavy eater, yet I encourage him to eat a bit more. Over time, the diet shows results. Matt is proud that he can now eat more than ever before, eight plates of food plus dessert! But his voluptuous butt now fills a size 38 pants, and the shirts tightly span his full-bodied waist. Although embarrassed that he is already over 240 pounds, he is unwilling to stop the fattening diet and begs me to continue.

Always hungry, he eats lots, and I tease him as he gets noticeably fatter and bursts out of his clothes. With his 260, sports are not so easy anymore. And family and friends pat the pounds on his middle and make mocking remarks about his hearty appetite. Although I assure him of how well the weight suits him, he becomes insecure. In the following months he loses a good 40 pounds. What can I do? I offer him to give eating another try. A deep, relieved smile goes over his face. But in turn for paying his food bills, he has to commit to weigh in at 280 on his 25th birthday. He swallows ... but to nobody’s surprise, he cannot resist the idea of constantly stuffing himself and willingly accepts the challenge.

A bit deceived

To give him a break (and to fatten him), I invite Matt on a cruise in the Caribbean. Endless buffets, ice cream, snacks at any time of the day. Instead of working out in the gym, he prefers to train at the buffet and regularly crams himself to the brim. It does wonders to his waistline, and his swim trunks get skin-tight. Though he got nice and fat at 274 six weeks before his birthday, I can’t withstand to dupe him, manipulating the scales to say 264 and insert 3 inches into the tape measure. He looks incredulously down at his fat spare tire .. and asks me to help him to get fat enough for his birthday. I hard-core feed him now - king size meals, followed by extra helpings, additional desserts. When he wants to give up, I get him to eat more. “Open your mouth .. yeah, well done, and another bite .. you’re a good boy, aren’t you?” On top, he has to drink a pint of heavy cream once a day, whining afterwards that he is terribly full. It turns me on how he blows up, but secretly I feel a bit guilty to fatten him so ..

Finally, it’s his birthday. My goodness, he has become fat! He now easily fills out a pair of 44 jeans, and the shirt we had bought for his birthday sits tight at his waist. A bit shy, he takes it off .. His massive belly bulging out, his doughy hip rolls and ample ass make my mouth water. And he weighs in at .. 291!! I hug him, aroused by the wobbling fat he carries in font of him, and pinch him amicably into his fat hips. Slowly, he realizes my ploy and suddenly feels fat and dumb. - At dinner, however, his huge appetite is back. He packs away two complete meals and five desserts. Oops, I notice that his shirt has popped open (we sit in a private room). He blushes .. I console him by approvingly patting the soft flab that bulges out and calling him my hero - such a masterly eater, and he has gained more than promised! His answer is a proud and grateful smile. He says that eating has become such a delight for him. Then he gets serious. He wants to become a big, massive boy and asks me to fatten him further. It’s out of question for him that he will fatten himself up to 300 pounds by Christmas. Then he wants to double his starting weight to 360 by his 27th birthday at the latest, breaking 400 on his 28th and then … his voice trembles a little … reach the 500, and weigh a quarter of a ton! And finally … he swallows … eating himself into immobility. A bit uncertain, he looks at me and asks if I still love him when he gets so heavy and can’t easily move around anymore. I melt away and whisper to him that he can never be too fat for me!

He moves in

After graduation, he has an office job and moves in with me to live comfortably and eat without limit. Though his parents can no longer comment on his weight, he feels a bit uneasy to helplessly blow up (haha, that’s exactly what I want!). In mid-December though, still “underweight”, he undergoes a fattening diet. He eats tons, often taking naps in between the meals. He puts on well. And right, on Christmas, he weighs in at 300! He simply spends the days topless and proudly shows off his wobbling spare tire. I can’t help patting it ... he is thrilled and trustingly promises to pack on as much as he can. Ok! There is enough food for 4 persons, and the days become an epic feasting. He eats really masterfully. Almost the whole turkey, king-size meals, extra helpings, tons of cookies in between. Ok, he has to give up on the Christmas cake. He is so short of breath that I almost get the doctor. But he insists to try again the next day, and he gets better by the day ... Stuffed to bursting, helplessly gasping and unable to sit upright after the meals, he mostly spends the days on the couch. His huge belly bulges tremendously, and he moans relieved when I give him easing belly rubs. By New Year’s Day, he’s gotten so fat that he can hardly get the size 44 jeans over his voluminous butt, and he wears it officially open, as he can no longer button it. He asks shyly if I’m content with him. I can’t help moving my fat Christmas present to the bed and caress his moobs, his wobbling belly, his massive love handles and his immense butt, not to mention what we do with his thick thighs. I enjoy so much how he now gets out of breath when he gets aroused and clashes at me with his fat belly. When he notices, he whispers to me that he wants to get properly fatter for next Christmas. I can hardly say how much I love him.

In June, on the beach. Matt is a handsome 26 year-old with a solid 320. The manly beard on his cute face covers well his now chubby cheeks and his beginning double chin. It is a contrast to the soft, mighty roll of flab on his waist and his enormous ass. But people scoff at this fat guy .. he gets uneasy. Though still full from a mighty lunch, I order him an extra-large family portion of ice cream, and of course he can’t resist. But he is ungracious, accuses me of feeding him so fat, and refuses to eat. I feel bad. After a couple of days though, he comes around. He hugs me and when his fat belly presses against me, he whispers to me that he wants to get fatter than ever, no matter what people say. We seal it with an epic dinner; after all, he has to catch up.

No sports anymore

Next Christmas though, Matt is down to 310, and not happy. I cheer him up .. why not partly work from home, have more time for eating, and comfortably putting on another 40 by his birthday in September? He looks puzzled, but then he kisses me gratefully and promises to do everything to fulfill my wish. I ask Josh, a young feeder, a slim guy, to help me fatten Matt. Josh skillfully stimulates him and feeds him according to all rules of the art. It dawns on the good Matt that he is now being fattened according to plan ... and he willingly admits himself to his fate. I secretly enlarge his clothes, and we blindfold him when weighing him or checking his girth, so he doesn’t see how well he puts on. He helplessly tries to hide the heavy pounds on his middle. When friends tease him with his weight or his enormous appetite, he answers sheepishly that he likes to eat … but secretly he is proud and tries to stuff himself even more.

At the gym, when the trainer heard his thunderous steps, he weighed him and banished him from the treadmill because he had become too heavy. Though, to train him, we take his bike for a tour around town. He is so plump that I have to help him to get on it and go. He is not amused when I comment that next time we’ll need a hoist to get him up there. At the first uphill stretch, he gets out of breath and has to give up. We are turning back. He realizes that he has become just too fat and heavy for sports, and it’s with a feeling of loss. Josh skillfully distracts him by feeding him all the more fattening snacks. Matt never says no and eat to his limits and beyond, and the pounds keep piling on.

Doubled the weight

On Matt’s big day, we invite the pals of the gainer community to a BBQ. Matt’s belly presses against his shirt, and Josh asks him to take it off to show how properly he’s put on. It dawns on him why Josh had stuffed him to excess the last days. At the official weigh-in he is at … 361 pounds! He can hardly believe it, he has doubled his starting weight! And he is now the second heaviest of the pals and has shortened the gap to Pete, the undisputed gainer champion, to 30 pounds. While Matt is still puzzled, Josh calls for an eating contest! Matt is back in his element and, spurred on by Josh, finally manages a full dish more than Pete. Josh is so proud of his porker .. Matt is stuffed to the brim and looks on helplessly as Josh pats his soft fat roll and massive love handles and raves about how nice and fat he has become. “You have proven that you can eat more than Pete. There’s no question that you’ll be the fattest at your next birthday. . You'll only be dressed in boxer shorts, and we'll be amused by your corpulence and your wobbly fat. And then, we will have fun to chase you. You won’t get far with your weight. We will catch and tie our heavy, fattened pig. There’s a butcher to gauge your sumptuous bacon and to check if you are ready for slaughter.” Matt blushes hard. “I see you panic when he joyfully grinds his knife. You beg for your life, but as a ransom, you have to promise to eat as much as a whole family. We will check weekly if you get fat enough.”

The round gets quiet. I see it flash through Matt’s mind. It’s his dream coming true. To be helplessly fattened. To become a soft, massive boy. Being called fat ass. Seeing the numbers on the scale climb. All the more, to eat for a whole family in one meal and ask for an extra dessert. Not to stop eating, though it gets difficult to handle all the weight he’s put on. To eat himself fatter and fatter. Not being able to move and eventually getting immobile. – With breathy voice, he says: “I’m up to be fattened to the heaviest guy here ..”.

To make sure Matt stays healthy with his weight gain, I take him to a check-up. When the doctor weighs him and takes his measurements, he throws a disdainful look at his bulk. After a few squats (Matt only manages three), Matt lies on the patient couch, breathing heavily, and the doctor asks him how such a young guy can feed himself so fat. Matt feels like a fat pig led to the slaughterhouse and stammers that he has a healthy appetite, but the doctor urges him to lose weight .. He feels bad and loses his joy in eating.

It is only in late fall when he grabs his belly. “I’m way too thin”, he says, looking down. “We have a lot of catching up to do! You know I want to be 400 on my next birthday. I want to eat for three in the next time!” He is down to 325, so a lot to do ..

Growing

Josh moves in with us, and he takes Matt firmly in hand and feeds him all the food he loves. Heavy breakfasts, nutritious milkshakes, pre-lunch rolls with Nutella, pizza, tons of pasta, ice cream, cream cake, three-course menus and additional desserts. Matt whines that he feels like an eating machine - but at the next meal, he has again a greedy appetite. No wonder that he grows well. A thick layer of solid fat spreads over his body, and the dough roll on his waist becomes massive. At our BBQ’s, Matt is proud that he now eats more as Josh and I together. But Josh pushes him to eat another serving and stuffs him like a Christmas goose. Although Matt protests weakly, Josh still feeds him with plenty of cream cake. Matt holds his huge, bulging belly and whimpers softly. Josh knows no mercy, and we repeat this frequently. Matt gets a special recliner as he can't sit upright because of his stuffed belly. He now gains 4 pounds of weight per week and often grabs his voluminous waist in disbelief ... At the end of such a fattening evening, Josh grabs Matts immense soft fat roll and says lustfully: "Next time we grill the fat, soft bacon from this fattened guy". Matt becomes visibly nervous, but as full as he is and too heavy to get up, he just gasps helplessly. And the next day Josh crams the fat Matt again to the brim. He protests only weakly, and Josh relentlessly doubles the amount of cream cake. By the middle of the year, Matt has gained a good 40 pounds and is fatter than ever. Josh caresses Matt's massive belly and praises him for how unbelievably much he can eat now. The big, helplessly fattened Matt, full to bursting, gasps and is anxious that he will be stuffed like this again the next day, including cream cake ... He should be right. And Josh makes fun of making Matt drink a liter of melted ice cream, who is whimpering and pleading for mercy.

Matts parents are a bit concerned that their son is getting so enormously fat. They approve of me and our relationship, but of course they have no idea that I fatten Matt on purpose. He assures them that he will cut down .. knowing that this will never happen. - The next time we see them, Matt has again properly packed on and is a bit nervous. Though he eats almost nothing the 2 days before, they scold him for having gotten bigger again. At home, we take a deep breath. Matt is starving and eats a dinner big enough for three. I tease him that with such a diet, he will be even fatter the next time with his parents. Defiantly, he forces two more pieces of cream cake down .. Well, next time with his parents is his 28th birthday. Matt is fatter than ever at 387, and though he tries to suck in, the heavy pounds press against the shirt. When the parents ask what he weighs now, he says “350”. They look doubtful, but they seem to have resigned with his weight. At dinner, he eats two full three-course meals plus a couple of desserts without them commenting further. At home, I open his shirt, which now stretches dangerously at the waist, and massage his bulging belly. I tell him that his parents will always love him, no matter how fat he gets. He sighs .. but I'm right. Although he hardly can eat any more, I fatten him with cream cake, and he does his best before he falls asleep.

A massive boy

Matt’s appetite remains strong, and he is not in the least willing to stop eating. So to nobody’s surprise he comfortably passes 400. At such a weight, my athletic boy from a few years ago has now become big and massive. His enormous overhang starts having its own will. He feels it jiggle out of control with the slightest movement, and it often gets in his way. When he ties his laces, he struggles with the bulky fat roll, so he gasps and gets a red head from the exertion. He is much slower when moving around. Halfway on the stairs, he has to catch breath. Shopping clothes with him is a special pleasure. Seeing my fat boy being measured by the astonished salesmen, the struggle in the fitting room when he has to pull pants over his enormous butt, or the shirts don’t let them button over his huge stomach, then he gets out of breath and starts to sweat .. his clothes size has gone up to 4XL shirts and 56’’ waist jeans.

In bed though, we have incredible fun. We both enjoy his corpulence beyond description, the massive pillow of dough he wears in front of him, his bulky hip rolls, his thick thighs and especially his gigantic butt cheeks. With his weight, he is not so agile anymore. But I do all kinds of stuff with him, I move and shake him and make him pant, sweat and squeak with pleasure (I sweat also, with a guy more than twice my weight). The way his opulent fat jiggles out of control is incredibly arousing. The bed creaks at all joints under his weight .. Its heavenly! In the mornings afterwards, I reward him with a real big boys breakfast in bed .. when he is stuffed, I pat his fat cheeks and tease him that a good boy eats more and help him work down another piece of cake.

Can’t stop eating

Josh constantly seduces Matt with heavy snacks and fattens him properly up. A month before Matt’s birthday, he intensifies the fattening and feeds him beyond the limits. The brave Matt wonders why Josh takes him so hard, but with Josh’s help, he packs away incredible amounts of food and gets noticeably fatter by the week. And yes, Josh is content that Matt added an extra 14 pounds. He is fat enough for his birthday!

At his birthday BBQ, Josh makes the now very corpulent Matt appear in a boxer specially made for his enormous size. Josh shows him up like an award-winning fattening pig, making the gainer pals grab and pat his ample fat rolls and lets them guess what he weighs now. Matt is bashful and doesn’t know what to say. Then Josh puts him on the scales. Wow! At 434, he now weighs 14 pounds more than Pete- and no question that he finishes the eating contest as the absolute winner. Matt can hardly believe that he is now fatter than Pete and also the undisputed master in eating. The dethroned champion pays tribute to Matt for his record weight and his really gigantic appetite, however, he promises that he will have caught up with him again on his next birthday. Josh pinches lovingly in Matt's fat rolls and boasts that he will fatten him to a quarter ton by then. The fat Matt, pigged out and fatter than ever, becomes thoughtful. It dawns on him that there is no turning back. He is a bit anxious that he will be fattened even thicker, and wonders what his life will look like if he gets too fat to move. At the same time, however, it also arouses him, and so he surrenders to his fate.

Eating helps him soon to forget the cloudy thoughts. He breaks the magic 450 in fall and is in seventh heaven. Two and a half time his starting weight. Christmas sees him happy at an even fatter 460. As usual, he just spends it topless in a huge boxershorts, showing off his still perfect shape. Josh and I are thrilled when his enormous ass and the mountain of fat bulging over his pants wobble with every move or how his belly forms into a tremendous fat roll when he sits down, and how he has to breathe and start several times when he wants to get up. We make Christmas an epic feast again. Matt is stimulated and shows us proudly the gigantic masses that he can now eat. Josh and I are excited as his boxer pants get tight over the days and increasingly cut into his bacon. I ask him not to go out - butchers would be keen to catch this well-fattened guy and get to his juicy bacon.

And finally, on his birthday, he weighs in at 500. My goodness, a quarter ton man .. He looks back on the 5 years of our friendship, grateful that eating has become such a fulfilling passion for him. The additional 300 pounds he’s put on make him feel better and happier than ever, and he can’t wait to put on even more. He tries to get up to give me a kiss, but he is too heavy and drops back, the couch creaking dangerously and his bacon wobbling for seconds. He then tries to bend over for a hug, but he is too bulky and has to give up, heavily breathing now from the exertion. I kiss him and pat his abundant dough. I love this man ever more the more helpless he gets ..

At the birthday BBQ, we make a weigh-in (on a heavy-duty scale). Pete has really taken up the challenge and gained significant weight, but Matt outweighs him undisputedly by over 30 pounds now.

Life is however getting more and more difficult for Matt. It’s hard to find decent clothes to cover his bulk. He gets out of breath when he moves around. We have to help him get dressed, and he can’t bend down because of his belly. At work, he is so heavy and big that he needs a special chair, and his colleagues don’t stop teasing him with his weight .. the situation has become uncomfortable for him. OMG, my depressed boy .. I offer him to finally give up work and live a lazy, fat life. He looks at me, uncertain .. then sobs and whispers that this is what he has always dreamed of, and he is more than willing.

Fat life

Matt’s life is now fully devoted to eating. He often stays in bed. In the morning, he already starts with a nutritious breakfast which leaves him heavily breathing. In autumn, he weighs in at 545, and that means .. he has tripled his weight! He is now too fat to sit upright.

His 33rd birthday, at 612. Getting up has become a challenge for him. He gasps already when we help him sit on the edge of the bed. Josh and I help him to stand up .. one, two, three .. oops .. he falls back on the bed, it shakes dangerously .. he needs a minute .. next try ..one, two, three .. he stands .. he needs a moment to catch breath .. then he walks, and his whole body jiggles considerably .. Ok .. for this heroic deed, I reward him with cream cake, and he packs away 4 ½ pieces. Not content, he says he wants to manage 6 pieces in the next weeks ..

Getting immobile

After Christmas, at 660, we try to get him up, but he gasps like hell and his heart beats extremely, so we give up. We prescribe a strict slimming diet and exercise to our big boy (as far as possible at his weight). Well, he drops below 600, and mobility comes back well. But in December, he is unhappy .. he tells us he has lost a year now with fasting. He doesn’t live to starve, but wants to eat, eat and eat! Eat for a family of four in one meal! Well, we start a fattening diet again. Though the gains naturally go slower at his weight, in fall, he is content to weigh over 650 again.

On his 35th birthday, at 710 pounds, Matt starts to regularly stuff himself senseless .. it’s obvious, he wants to be so fat that he gets immobile. On Christmas, he reaches 750, and finally he is too heavy to get up. He is deeply content when we officially declare him immobile. He begs me to stay with him, to encourage him, to feed him fatter and heavier, and to help him with the daily life. I promise, and I do it with deepfelt love.

To be able to lift him up, we install a hoist over his bed, and we take care that he can be weighed this way also. He is proud every time we weigh him and he has gotten heavier, and we celebrate with a feast. He enjoys that he gasps now and sweats with the slightest move. He aims at breaking past 840 on his 37thbirthday, looking forward to weigh four times as much as the sporty guy I fell in love with, and being one of the fattest persons at all .. and to lead a life full of delicious food, making him ever bigger, fatter and heavier ..

Detroit Become Human AU where:

-> Tommy is an up-and-coming livestreamer of the retro game Minecraft- forming part of a fledgling community of all-human players of the game. His growth is slow but steady and he has a future in a genre that had fallen out of fashion with the rise of the newest and more immersive VR games on the market. People love to see an actual human that could make mistakes and win against another fellow human fairly. The nostalgia it brought to some people is also undeniably at play.

It's worth noting that Tommy is a very lonely kid, with a non-existent social life since he and his family had to move to America after his father struck a lucrative business deal with his brilliant protege.

-> Wilbur, Tommy's older brother and only guardian after their father, Phil, dedicated his life to the creation of androids with his young but brilliant pupil Elijah Kamski, is a simple busker. It's hard to find a job at 24 with no previous experience or further education, he had to take care of Tommy, after all. True, their economic troubles never ended, and he could barely provide for Tommy, but at least they had each other, even if Wilbur was off to the streets of Detroit more often than not. He has no idea of his younger brother's blooming career in the gaming industry and is very worried about his future. The solution? A very suspicious android his best friend Schlatt offers for very cheap.

-> Phil Watson is a household name together with Elijah Kamski's, they created one of humanity's greatest tools, after all. Nothing suspicious here, they're definitely not hiding any potential deviancies from the code! In any case, his family never saw a dime of the frankly insane amount of money piling up in his bank account. He has an old phone he carries in his pocket every day with Wilbur's phone number, but he never dares to call it despite RN800, his assistant's, insistence that he was only making his own life harder. He is going to dial that phone number someday. Surely.

-> TU880 is an android from an old companion/educational line, discontinued after a few notable bugs and glitches in their core programming. Nothing serious, or life-threatening, but many customers have complained about disturbing behavior that falls straight into the uncanny valley- he's too human. Schlatt, his previous owner, refuses to disclose where he got TU880 from, nor does he have any legal documentation to prove he is his owner. Wilbur, desperate to find a solution for Tommy's perceived loneliness pays the fifty bucks his old pal asks for the android without asking any questions. It's weird for an adult to go around with a teen model created to counsel adolescents and help them with their homework. TU880 had problems with reading his grocery list, anyway.

-> Tommy is a bit weirded out, he thrives in an internet community which openly despises anything android, but his good friend Technoblade has plenty of useful advice, from maitenance to behavior. TU880 is odd, which he discards as kinks and bugs of the older models, but they get along nicely once TU880's programming kicks in. He likes to help Tommy edit his videos and speak about the problems of adolescence, he is oddly fond of bees or anything small and defenceless and likes to tell his 'dreams' of scientists in labcoats and other kids like him stuck in experiments. Tommy listens with half an ear, TU880 is his friend, after all. He thinks nothing of it.

-> It all becomes a bit too much when TU880 accidentally appears on camera during one of Tommy's streams. People assume he's Tommy's brother, and insist on getting an introduction. TU880 is ecstatic, but from what Tommy's told him, revealing his artificial status might harm his friend's career so he greets the chat as Toby, Tommy's older brother. The community goes wild and Tommy has to pretend that TU880 is his brother (which isn't that terrible per-se) and not the house assistant who has a complete psychological profile of him.

-> TU880 begins to feel strange, both regarding Tommy and his own place in the household. Calling Tommy hus brother is easy as calculus and makes his thirium pump skip a few beats, but he's not sure if he should be getting this attached. He's sure he is malfunctioning in some way, but Schlatt always assured him that he is fine. He thinks nothing of it and instead continues to watch over Tommy.

-> Minecraft is fun, and he eventually gets his own account on Wilbur's old (read: ancient) laptop despite possessing an internal processor powerful enough to play the game at its maximum capacity in his mind, and probably in a 3D holoprojector. At this point, he's in too deep and the friends he's making would certainly ask questions if he were to disappear. He has the opportunity to talk about anything at all to his growing audience, and the community is very welcoming in general once one integrates into their culture. He still doesn't feel it's fair to participate in the tournaments and all the other official competitions. People find it odd, but they assume he's not very good at PVP so no one tends to comment on it for now. It's okay though, he and his new friend Ranboo act as commentators during the events and everyone thinks they're pretty funny.

-> Ranboo is fun to be around. He just gets TU880- or as the internet knows him as, Tubbo. They click easily, sometimes the other boy seems just as confused about other people's reactions and behavior as Tubbo is (despite his in-depth knowledge of psychology. He's not quite connected to Cyberlife's database anymore and his learning algorithm is outdated at best.) and they like to spend their afternoons with Tommy, watching movies. The game overtakes their lives and they spend a lot of time playing privately with the best strategies Tubbo's advanced algorithms and Ranboo's sheer brilliancy can create. That's how they meet their friend Fundy, who is more than happy to keep their Technical Minecraft server a secret, as long as he gets to do his own thing with coding and they test it.

-> Tommy is just happy that he can use the cool farms for his own grinding.

-> Technoblade is Tommy's mysterious internet friend and fellow growing streamer. Everyone is sure that he's an android infiltrating the budding community, but after several years of isolated incidents, investigations, and online scandals no one was able to prove anything. Technoblade just never dies. (Tommy is 50% sure his friend is really an android, the older man simply refuses to comment). It is possible to spend months farming digital potatoes, people are just mean and want drama. Technoblade is just vibing. Incidentally, he's also the first one to figure out that Ranboo and Tubbo are androids. He is also the first one to figure out they're deviants. He doesn't mention it until much later though.

-> Jack and Niki Manifold have successfully founded their own mechanic business for android repairs. Cyberlife mumbled and grumbled at the siblings' repair shop, but in the end it was good for PR so they let them be. Tommy and Wilbur become their friends as TU880's frequent malfunctions inevitably bring the pair to the cheapest android repair service in the city. TU880 can't complain, Niki is sweet to him and understands what is wrong with him just by his description, since his diagnostics aren't working entirely and each an every single one of Jack's repairs last loner than every other mechanic he's been to.

-> Gradually, Tommy's fame becomes apparent, and Wilbur has the time to actually rest and spend time with his brother. He's just happy that they can be together. A weight is lifted off his shoulders and for the first time ever he feels like his little family has a future. Not even once does it pass through his mind that TU880 isn't acting like a typical android- he avoided the things on principle. Once, TU880 calls him his brother and he cries.

-> Sam is Cyberlife's very own private investigator. He is in charge of researching and turning in possible deviants that might help the company with developing a solution for the rising problem. In particular, he's been after the trail of a specific line of androids, the first one released by Kamski and Watson dubbed as TU. According to his investigations the line might have contained the code responsible for deviancy. Further research indicated that Kamski's code was based on a group project from the Dutch university for cibernetics.

-> Fundy is just a 21 y/o with a Twitch account and a passing interest in coding. Nothing serious, nothing suspicious. He absolutely wasn't part of the early AI coding trials that Kamski would later on use as the basis for his own code. If someone asks, he has no idea what ra9 means. He is almost sure that his friends are androids, the thought makes him very happy.

-> Puffy is Phil's new psychologist. Need I say more? Eventual Hurt/comfort baby!!!

Relationship with NCT 127

➣ Taeil ☾ taria 

taeil is the Sole Protector of aria’s sanity 

taeil loves his maknaes so much, but he literally looks at her like she put the stars in the sky 

the Proud Dad smile :’)

when aria first debuted, czennies thought that she was the same age as jungwoo - because she acted older than her age - but with taeil she lets her inner kid come out 

highkey dependent on his approval for things in relation to singing

“was, was that ok?” “perfect, ari.”  “ (O_O;)  - (◕‿◕)♡”

she will fight mark and donghyuck for his attention, and she will win

for a while, the two had shared a dorm room before they were rearranged, and taeil let her slip into his bed when she was feeling homesick 

the offer is still open, but aria takes him up on it less and less

taeil is NOT sad about that. absolutely not.

he’s vehemently against any and all diets she tries - saying that if she gets any smaller he’s going to be able to pick her up with one hand

que him dragging her out for ice-cream after a promotion, paying no mind to her protests

aria helps taeil with translating a lot of things into english during lives and interviews - so much to the point where he’s picked up a bit of an irish accent and the others never fail to clown him for it 

taeil still has the small braided bracelet that aria gave to the members on their first anniversary of nct (he keeps it in the drawer beside his bed)

aria is his self-professed happy virus. he told czennies in a vlive once that her smile makes him feel really happy and he wants to protect it to the best of his ability

aria always fixes his micpack before they go onstage if its crooked, because she comes out after him in the lineup

they have monthly movie nights and they alternate who chooses the movie / show (taeil normally goes for mystery or drama themed ones, while aria enjoys making them both sob miserably)

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

aria and taeil singing “I See the Light” from tangled for the NCT Music channel, and the tears that were shed by both moonis and realtai alike. sm really popped off with the staging and the lighting of the whole video - between the smiles that were on both of the singers faces and the whole ambiance created, its a cinematic masterpiece 

no one was surprised when it hit 2 million views in a day, and a lot of solo stans were born from that video

➣ Johnny ☾ johria

indisputable siblings 

there is not a single czennie who ships these two romantically, and that’s because they’re just too wholesome 

johnny is one of the few members that aria calls “oppa”, mainly because of the age gap and sm wanted her to appear respectful, but also because he thinks she looks so cute

very chill, excellent vibes

their vlives are either chaotic messes or the closest thing to therapy since ice cubes 

the blanket on aria’s bed? that was a gift from johnny - she had been complaining to mark about how cold she always was anemia tings

czennies are begging for sm to allow aria to open up a solo instagram account, becuse they see the amount of pictures johnny takes of her

in the park? he’s making her pose in front of the flowers. backstage before a show? the lighting, c’mon.

big big bear hugs - the height difference make nctzens want to die 

185cm vs 158cm? p l e a s e she’s so tiny in comparison  (/ =ω=)/

when she gives him backhugs it looks like a little kitten trying to wrestle with the family dog 

play fighting about vernacular:

“ITS CALLED A SIDEWALK” “S I D E W A L K, ITS A FOOTPATH YOU BUFFOON”

very vocal about her wellbeing, and has asked fans before to remind her to take better care of herself and get to sleep sooner

aria, starting a vlive at 3am: hi hi~

the comments: NO GO TO BED

johnny helped her a lot when it came to the style change in choreography, as aria was used to soft, flowing movements and not the powerful, sleek style that most nct dances have 

consistently forgets the fact that she is not the fourteen year old he first met, and is, in fact, an adult now. “you’re a child” “im 18″ “...no”

is the person to get angry on her behalf when interviewers belittle or ignore her 

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT. 

during a fansign, a fan asked aria who did she think was the most comforting when she was stressed (besides mark and donghyuck) and aria said johnny. “he’s so, constant? like nothing seems to knock him or throw him off, and that’s really comforting when i feel unsteady.”

johnny is now known as aria’s weighted blanket. 

that is all. 

➣ Taeyong ☾ ariyong

taeyong took one look at aria the first time she showed up for group practice and immediately adopted her (not literally, but he would if he could)

eomma meets highly protective older brother meets life coach type beat? 

so so soft for her its sickening 

says he doesn’t have favourites and will then spend an hour cooking for aria because she’s been in the studio for the whole day and he knows she hasn’t eaten yet

when aria was given a duet to do for the sm stages, she had to pick another member to do it with and her first choice was taeyong

she always has said that taeyong is one of the pillars keeping her upright and sane - without him she wasn’t sure if she would have been able to complete her training

because of all the schedules they share together, if aria isn’t rooming with mark then she’s definitely rooming with taeyong

whenever she does his makeup (more often than you’d think) she point blank refuses to cover his scar, even when he asks her to 

“please? i don’t like it.” *gasp* “how dare you.” 

sleepy aria! snuggling into taeyong’s shoulder when a schedule ran late! 

he gets uncomfy when the stylists put her in too revealing clothes, and has spoken to them on numerous occasions about dressing her in age-appropriate attire, no matter how “sexy” the concept might be 

he keeps little bags of sugar-dusted strawberry sweets in his bag incase she forgets to eat and feels faint after the last time (they used to be blueberry flavoured, but he heard donghyuck throwing out any and all “blueberry-contaminated” food one evening)

taeyong doesn’t tolerate hate towards aria, especially in person, so he always makes sure to sit down the line from her so that he can see when people skip intentionally her

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT. 

taeyong had just been awarded the solo bedroom on the last night of the Mtopia series, and was staring off into the corner looking rather uncomfortable. aria, who was meant to be rooming with baekhyun looked over and saw his mouth curled downwards slightly. 

“baekhyun-oppa, is it ok if i room with taeyongie-oppa tonight? i ran out of my tablets, and he has some in his bag..” 

baekhyun looked down at her with a small smile and agreed, while on the video edited captions appeared with the words, “a cute maknae, asking to room with a younger member...”

➣ Yuta ☾ nakamiya

the president of realtai 

this man is absolutely, completely and irrevocably whipped for aria and she is not afraid to use that to her advantage

she beat him at arm wrestling because she pouted at him - she’s too powerful 

aria.exe stopped responding when yuta started to playfully flirt with her the first few times

*winks* “hu-wha-”

one of the most outwardly protective members of her, because he feels a sense of responsibility for the younger girl

he was one of the trainees she first befriended, aria’s korean not being good enough to hold a decent conversation, and yuta happy that there was another japanese trainee 

9 times out of 10, when the members are making their way through crowded areas like airports yuta is always behind or directly beside aria

during a fansign one of the fans asked why he did that, and he said that he needed to keep her in his line of sight or else he’d get anxious that she’s so small that she could get swallowed in the crowds 

yes aria hit him for the short comment 

yuta, 50% of the time: you’re not allowed date until you’re 35

yuta, the other 50% of the time: bro where’s your boyfriend

he complains that she isn’t as sweet as she was when she first joined, and that hyuck must have corrupted her (╬ Ò﹏Ó)

he let’s her braid his hair when its longer, them both sitting on a bed with yuta in front and aria kneeling behind him so she can reach 

he was the first person to take her home for the holidays, because ireland was too far to go back for a week over christmas 

“what do you mean you’ve never been to japan???” 

bitching about the other members in japanese? more likely than you’d think 

when aria turned legal in korea, yuta took her out drinking and made sure to post pictures of her with her flushed cheeks on his instagram story with the caption “aish, i told you to pace yourself....” “happy birthday riri”

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT. 

you know that one clip of the sasaeng getting absolutely trashed by nct’s bodyguard and taeyong jumping 7 feet into the air? 

well taeyong wasn’t the only one startled; standing beside yuta, aria was closest to the wall of fans when the girl ran forward towards the members. aria jumped in fright, while yuta barely made a face (#unbothered). he simply wrapped an arm over her shoulders and pulled her around to the other side, tucking her underneath his arm.

tsundere!yuta

➣ Doyoung ☾ dori

*ahem* WHIPPED *ahem*

doyoung adores aria so much 

was he unsure about a girl being added to a group of boys? yes but it was moreso concern about how he was going to make sure she wasn’t accidentally trampled

they bonded over a night in the recording studio when he found her sitting on the floor with music sheets scattered around her 

a whole mentor when it comes to singing 

aria always turns to him after singing - especially when it wasn’t planned, like at a fansign - to see if she did a good job

doyoung has yet to tell her that she hasn’t but sue her, she appreciates the validation

the original mother and Will Not Let Taeyong Forget It

doyoung, dragging aria out of the studio: now listen here young lady-

kitten and bunny friends RISE

no seriously sm released merch of a kitten and bunny plushie and it sold out in a day

when aria had the accident that led to her two month hiatus, doyoung was the one who rode in the ambulance with her after refusing to let go of her hand 

“i’m sorry sir, only family are allowed in at the moment-” “we are her family” *nurse looks around the room at the 14 other boys sitting anxiously*

he is a weak, weak man he will crumple on any decision if she smiles and slash or whines at him even slightly 

carries band-aids and support strapping in his practice bag because he knows that she gets really bad blisters when she hasn’t practiced while wearing her heels in a while, and he makes her wrap her ankles for the first few sessions incase she falls 

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENTS.

NCT 127 Take a Friendship Test (Glamour - 2020)

“ahh, my first impression?” *laughs* “actually, we first met in a recording studio, at like. 3 o’clock in the morning? he stuck his head in the doorway and i was so tired that i thought i had died and an angel had come to save me...”  (*μ_μ) 

➣ Jaehyun ☾ jaria

you know how cheetahs in the zoo get emotionally support puppies?

this is the same type of vibe

very snuggly together? but only in specific scenarios, like when jaehyun is too tired to move after a movie night, he’ll just kinda engulf aria in a hug and make her sleep on the couch with him 

any back hug she gives him turns into a piggy back, its non-negotiable 

likes to randomly compliment her to see how red he can make her face go

did she have a crush on him when she first moved to korea? yes, but who didn’t

that faded really quickly though once she started into the group officially - now they are more like siblings

they don’t interact that much on camera? rip to the jaria shippers

but that doesn’t mean they aren’t close with each other its just that a lot of their interactions happen off-screen

naturally, jaehyun began to think of her as a younger sister over the years they performed together 

jaehyun will end anybody who lays a hand on aria 

a little bap bap if you will 

he asked her to take him ice-skating one day, and the entire time was spent with aria laughing her ass off as he ate the ice nearly fourteen times before getting the hang of it 

he takes her out for food when he notices that she’s been put back on a strict diet plan (aria thinks she’s good at hiding those pieces of paper, but she forgets that when she puts it on top of things, that other people are a lot taller than her and have a higher vantage point)

the prince and princess of nct? check 

head pats

he likes to pat her head and she’ll swat it away immediately until she gets tired and just lets him do his thing 

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

jaehyun was wearing a flower crown placed carefully on his head as he bent down slightly to run his hands through the damp grass. a soft shutter sound went off, before he heard a hum coming from behind him. “jaehyun-ssi, could you take off the flowers? we can’t see your face clearly because of the shadow.”

jaehyun glanced backwards at aria’s retreating figure, being chased by donghyuck with hands still stained green from the grass she had shifted through to find the fallen flowers. she stopped and waved at him before resuming her run.

“i’d rather not, if that’s alright. i think it fits quite well with the theme.”

➣ Jungwoo ☾ ariwoo

oh my god someone please stop these two

once jungwoo taught aria about the power that aegyo holds for persuasion tactics against the older members of 127, they were unstoppable 

you should be afraid of them

100% have plotted someone’s murder before (and have succeeded, czennies always wondered where that last manager went after The Incident)

aggressively cute together - to the point where your teeth will rot 

jungwoo will intentionally flirt with aria just to fluster her because its “so easy to do”

not very physically affectionate, but jungwoo has no hesitation calling out “uri fighting haeyadwae!” to her when she looks like she needs a little encouragement 

jungwoo is the reason she wants to do a bachelors degree after finishing high school 

he used to help her with her maths assignments after school when she was struggling with managing her time 

they’re called the “aegyo duo” of the group, and there has yet to be an outright winner of the competitions to find the cutest member (its aria. jungwoo said it himself, its aria but we been knew)

they have an odd dynamic of looking like best friends the first second, evil masterminds the next and then siblings who want to murder each other but they make it work 

will and has flopped down on her while she was laying on the practice floor and then whined when she tried to get up 

he spilled the tea that aria gets super emotional and affectionate when she’s drunk 

cutest shit ever that made ariwoo shippers lose their absolute minds was the clip that got released in the behind the scenes filming of Kick It, where jungwoo was half asleep in the corner and aria just pops up out of nowhere to shove a folded jacket under his head and made sure to prop it in a way that he wouldn’t get a sore neck when he woke up

jungwoo is the reason she knows korean curse words (dont tell doyoung)

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT. 

aria wobbled in her heels slightly as she stepped out of the van, trying to hold a blanket up to protect her legs while she slid off the seat onto the ground. jungwoo extended an arm around her waist, gripping the blanket in his other hand and carefully holding her to make sure she didn’t trip on the cobbled stone.

➣ Mark ☾ mari

1/2 of the best friend crew

honestly at the beginning, mark and aria weren’t very close, having only really seen each other in passing or with johnny 

but after being dropped into training together the two quickly became fast friends, and now they’re borderline inseparable 

you thought you knew pain? watch aria’s reaction to mark’s graduation from dream :)

mark’s the reason why aria felt confident enough to pitch some of her lyric ideas to the team, after staying up until 4am to help her make some edits so she was as confident as possible 

kinda just, rests his head on her shoulder? and wraps his arms around her waist when he’s tired 

mari being confused in foreigner: ??? 

aria said once in a vlive that she finds mark really comforting to be around - when she feels stressed or worried about something she’ll go to mark’s room and just sit on his bed for a while

aria is so close with his parents - “ahh, how’s my favourite child” “i’m doing great mom.” “no not you, how’s aria?” “wh-hu-MOM?” 

you’d swear sometimes mark is younger than her, considering the pout he puts on and how much he whines when they’re not on the same team together for promotions

mark big protecc boi but also little small cuddly boi 

they’re so soft for each other ( ╥ω╥ )

in one of the fancams for mark’s solo stage during superm, someone zoomed into aria singing along with him in the wings and dancing to herself with the Proudest Smile(tm)

he’s! so! proud! of! her! constantly! she could be walking and he’d be like “omg get it” 

when aria refuses to get up and make herself food (this happens way too often, she just gets into the groove of her work and doesn’t want to move) mark gets her to by threatening to do it himself 

consistently caught by czennies just standing behind her and holding her hand in crowded areas - airports, waiting rooms, etc. 

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT. 

mark and aria were standing off to one side as the mc explained the rules of the game they were about to be playing. mark looked totally confused, and elbowed aria in her side before looking down and mouthing “what?” to her. aria opened her mouth, before closing it and looking down at the ground, muttering to herself, “결합... 結合..... le chéile.... le... le.. oh oh - combined! we have to put them together, markie.”

and thus, a new confusion meme was born

➣ Haechan ☾ arichan

the other half of the best friend crew

absolute heathens to be around when they are together 

donghyuck is the person aria is closest to, and someone she’d call her best friend (only when she was sure he wouldn’t hear her)

she calls him “the demon child i can’t get rid of” but will, and has definitely pouted when he ignored her for too long 

generally aria is a pretty soft spoken person, but not with hyuck around - he brings out all her chaos energy (please pray for the patience of dotae)

the pair have a little tradition of kissing the back of each others’ hands before going on stage for good luck. they can’t even remember how it started, but now its an unnegotiable pre-show ritual

he’s so clingy with her absolutely everywhere its painfully adorable  (ಥ﹏ಥ)

interviews? hyuck has a hand on her knee, or if she’s wearing a skirt he’s tucked his hand in between their chairs so she can hold it discreetly. in the dorms? full body tackle onto the couch, where he proceeds to lay on top of her completely. 

because of hyuck’s nickname being the sun, and aria always being around him, czennies gave her the nickname “moon” to go with him

fans thought that aria was older than hyuck for a good year and a half before she released her birthday on a vlive, because she’s normally the one tasked with reigning his chaotic energy in during promotions (that is, if she hasn’t already joined him)

but off-camera, aria is absolutely hyuck’s baby there is no disputing that. aria’s sad?he’s there with ice-cream and a blanket and a baseball bat.

the winnie the pooh character that is on aria’s bed was a gift from hyuck for her 17th birthday, after she made him watch seven episodes of the show on netflix with her one night 

yes he complained, but he slapped her hand away when she went to change it to something else 

a twitter thread of a czennie comparing their horoscopes together went viral when people realized that it was quite plausible that the pair were each others (platonic) soulmates 

after an incident involving blueberries, donghyuck took it upon himself to check the ingredients of every. single. food item in their dorm to make sure it was ok for her to eat 

hyuck clowns her for her irish accent, and aria curses him out in japanese

tldr: they cute or whatever 

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT. 

donghyuck was doing a vlive in his bedroom, sitting and talking to czennies when aria opened the door to his room quietly. she didn’t say anything, just waved slightly with almost closed eyes before she crawled underneath his covers and tucked her plushie underneath her chin. hyuck didn’t even blink at it - so it must have been a regular occurrence.

“Be my valentine” Yan! Josuke x female reader

Valentine’s special! <3

Summary: In order to please your mum, you ask out Josuke for a fake date on Valentine’s Day. Little do you know that the date is realer to him than you would like…

TW: stalking, noncon touching, threat, reader gets physically hurt, toxic relationship, MATURE AUDIENCE ONLY/MINORS DNI

I do not condone any yandere behaviour in real life.

Josuke has been aged up to 18. No minor content on my blog!!!!

Word count: 2442

Nervously, you tucked on the skirt of your school uniform. If your mum would have been here, she’d have scolded you for your tick, informing you that it was rude to fumble with your clothes. You sighed deeply at that thought. Your mum. She was the reason you were in this embarrassing situation now. Gathering all your courage, you took a deep breath and walked up to the most popular guy at your school: Josuke Higashikata. A feeling of dread manifested itself deep in your stomach. “Oh God Y/N, it’s not too late to turn around and leave”, you thought anxiously. Pushing aside your idea of fleeing, you kept heading towards your schoolmate’s direction. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Josuke – on the contrary, you two liked each other enough to share some small talk in the hallway. It’d be hard to bear a grudge against the kindest and happiest boy at school. That was the reason you chose him for this stupid date your mother forced you on. After all, he was known throughout Morioh for his helpfulness. So surely, he’d help you out of your misery as well, right? Seeing your approaching form from afar, Josuke flashed you a gleeful grin and waved eagerly at you. Awkwardly, you waved back, a shy smile adorning your lips. 

“Hey Y/N, great to see you!”, the boy enthusiastically greeted you when you’d finally arrived. Next to Josuke stood his best friend Okuyasu, smiling and waving as well. Though you weren’t really friends, you weren’t surprised by their overbrimming friendliness. 

“Hi Josuke and Okuyasu”, you replied clumsily. In moments like these, you wished you were more socially gifted. Instead, you felt heat coming off your skin from this simple and innocent action, your embarrassment being already visible through your slight stutter and awkward body position.

 “What’s up?”, Morioh’s sweetheart asked you, his grin never leaving his mouth. The pompadour bearing boy relished your bashful behaviour. 

“How cute”, he thought dreamily. 

“Uhm, how do I start…”, you mused, fumbling again with your skirt as your nervousness grew. “Well, you see, I’m kinda in this situation where my mum forces me to go on a date with someone for Valentine’s Day. I know, it sounds stupid and it totally is, but she thinks I should be more self-assured and social and apparently, asking someone out is the perfect opportunity to boost my confidence,” you chuckled timidly.

Josuke’s sky blue eyes lit up at your words. Was he dreaming? Were you, Y/N L/N, his secret crush, really asking him out on a date? Okuyasu seemed to have the same thoughts as he shamelessly pushed his elbow in his best friend’s ribs and wiggled suggestively his eyebrows. Josuke glared darkly at him, signalling the boy to not embarrass him in front of you. Your schoolmate still couldn’t fully grasp the situation. He’d been imagining countless times how it’d be to go out with you: to hold your smaller hand, to touch your shiny hair, to kiss your sweet lips…

Though your following words did put a damper on Josuke’s reverie. 

“Of course it wouldn’t be a real date, you know? We’d be just faking it to please my mum. She threatened she wouldn’t let me home again unless I was in company with my date and by the way she looked at me, I don’t doubt her words a bit.” Oh. So you didn’t really want to be his valentine. Josuke’s cheerful demeanour slowly died down at your statement, his smile vanishing. You stared back at him, confusion entering your mind. Didn’t he agree with your suggestion? Did you ask too much of him? 

“Maybe I should offer him something in return.” 

“I owe you big time if you agree to this. Please Josuke, I really need to do this and I don’t wanna ask another person. I’d be so, so grateful if you’d help me out. I swear, I’ll never bother you again then!”, you pleaded, giving him your best puppy eyes. The boy in front of you couldn’t help but give in to you. His typical grin appeared one more time as his earlier disappointment melted away. You might not ask him out voluntarily, but the male made it his mission to show you after this date just how much he truly loved you - and how you two could be a real couple. 

“Sure thing Y/N,” Josuke answered chipperly, “just one thing – don’t say you bother me. You could never.” The boy winked confidently at you. Again, you felt heat rising in your face as you stuttered awkwardly a “thank you”. Both Josuke and Okuyasu laughed whole-heartly at your reaction, which only increased your embarrassment. “So, we’ll meet next week at 7 p.m. at Tonio’s?”

You were so peaceful when you slept. Slowly, your chest would rise and fall, a calm cycle that would persist until you’d eventually wake up. Tender blue eyes marvelled at your slumbering form. Gently, as to not startle and awaken you, the male caressed your soft cheek. Fortunately for him, you were a deep sleeper. It was ironic how the boy had no qualms breaking into your room at night - he had been doing so for months – but couldn’t have asked you out on a date. No, you had to do that for him, even if it wasn’t out of love. “Yet”, Josuke reminded himself. He was hellbent on making you fall in love with him. Why wouldn’t you? After all, he was Morioh’s sweetheart, admired by everyone. Yes, you’d fall for his charm, he was sure of that. A small sigh escaped his mouth. Josuke’s fingers now wandered down to your lips, wondering how they would feel against his. Longingly, he gazed at you. He would give up everything if it meant to be with you forever, to hold you in his arms every night, to wake up to your beautiful face every morning. For you to be his. “I can’t wait for our date, babe,” Josuke whispered giddily, “it will be the beginning of our relationship, I can feel it.”

To your surprise, your “date” had gone actually quite smoothly. You’d expected an awkward silence between you, but Josuke had kept you entertained the whole time during dinner, cracking jokes and telling odd stories. He’d even gifted you a box of chocolates with a note saying “Be my valentine” on it. You’d refused to take it, but Josuke had been insisted. 

“No really, accept it please. I want to give it to you. Plus, it will increase the authenticity of our date”, he had winked at you with his usual smile. His gentleman behaviour hadn’t stopped there:  your schoolmate had complimented the dress you wore and had even paid for your dinner. No matter how many times you’d persisted on paying yourself, Josuke had remained stubborn. 

“Please, we’re not in the 50s anymore, I can pay for myself. I really don’t wanna burden you any further and-“ 

“No,” he had cut you off, “I’m going to pay for everything. You still don’t understand that you’re not a burden to me. I want this to be the best date ever for you, so of course I’m going to pay.” Realising that you couldn’t have won this argument, you’d simply sighed and rolled your eyes at him while the boy had given you a goofy grin.

Right now, the two of you stood in front of the door of your house. Gingerly, you took Josuke’s hand into yours, giving the illusion that you two had been doing so the whole time, while fumbling for your keys in your purse. The male’s eyes widened at your action and he blushed deeply, butterflies bursting in his stomach. Finally, you managed to open the door and the pair of you entered your home. 

“Mum, I’m back!”, you shouted nervously in the hall, “And my date is with me!” 

“Oh my, dear, no need to scream”, your mother responded as she walked down the stairs. When she perceived you two standing there holding hands, a bright smile appeared on her face. 

“Hello Mrs L/N!”, Josuke greeted her politely, wanting to leave a good impression for her. 

“Hi Josuke! I’m glad to see you here,” your mum answered cheerily, “How’s your mother doing?”

After some small talk and a couple of embarrassing questions concerning your date from your mother, the two of you were outside in front of your door again to say each other goodbye. It was already pitch dark and the cool wind made you shiver slightly. 

“Thank you so much Josuke,” you said eventually, gratefulness dripping from your voice, “without you, I’d be sleeping outside this night.” The male laughed sincerely at your joke. 

“With pleasure Y/N, you know I’d do anything for you.” 

You looked at him with big eyes, astonishment written on your face. He did realise that this had been just a fake date, right? Feeling uncomfortable, you simply cleared your throat, ignoring his comment. 

“Anyway, I still owe you a favour for this. Do you maybe already have something on your mind?”,  you awkwardly asked. 

“How about this”, Josuke murmured dreamily. Without a warning, his lips crashed onto yours. For someone so sweet and friendly, his kiss was surely demanding. You could feel every tiny bit of his passion seeping through his mouth. A pair of hands were placed on either side of your face, ensuring your position. Josuke kissed you as if he’d be drowning and you were his only source of air. He took in every touch, every smell, every taste coming from your body and bathed indulgently in it. While the boy enjoyed every second of this moment, you did not. You thought you had made clear beforehand that you didn’t intend this to be a real date, that you weren’t currently interested in a relationship…  Hesitantly, you placed your hands on Josuke’s chest and pushed slightly, signalling him to let go of you. To your surprise, he did so quite easily.  Through heavy-lidded eyes, Josuke looked down at your smaller form, a love-struck smile building on his face. 

“Josuke…”, you whispered. Ah, how he loved it when you said his name. His grin only grew bigger. “I’m sorry for not having been clear enough, but this wasn’t an actual date. I’m not looking for a relationship. I’m really sorry, I didn’t want to lead you on or something…” Immediately, his happy face fell. 

“But Y/N, we had such a great evening!”, Josuke replied, desperation swinging in his voice, “I know you didn’t intend this to be real, but I thought you changed your mind! You seemed so happy during our date, didn’t I make you happy?” 

“Of course you did!”, you intervened, trying to calm the boy down, “Of course, Josuke. You’re a great guy, really, I just don’t wanna be in a relationship now.” 

“But why?” You could see tears forming in the corner of his blue eyes. “I don’t get it. You said you enjoyed the date and you like me, why not be with me then? I can’t wait for you any longer Y/N, I’ve been already waiting for so long. And now that I’ve got a taste of your love, I can’t go back to simply watching you. No Y/N, I need you now.” His comment gave you the chills. Never in your life would you have thought that you’d be feeling afraid of Morioh’s sweetheart. Suddenly, you were shivering again, but this time, it wasn’t because of the cold. 

“Josuke, I’m sorry about all of this. If I would have known your feelings towards me beforehand, I wouldn’t have asked you out on this fake date. But again, I don’t want a relationship right now. You need to respect that”, you replied, while trying to turn towards the door to flee the situation. Though Josuke made sure you didn’t escape him. One strong hand grabbed forcefully your right hand. Intense eyes bore into yours, a darkness clouding them. You prepared yourself to scream, but your schoolmate reacted faster, putting the other hand over your mouth to muffle your voice. 

“I’m really sorry for what I’ll do now, I truly am, Y/N,” his normally chipper voice sounded so sombre, so dangerous, “but I have no other choice. I want you, I need you. And I have to make sure you feel like that towards me as well.” Suddenly, his hand grasped your little finger and with a snap, Josuke easily broke its bones. Hot pain seethed through your body as you screamed into his other hand. Tears streamed out of your eyes. 

“Are you staying with me now, Y/N? Just nod your head and then I’ll make the pain go away, I promise.” Confused, you just kept staring at him. What was he talking about? You just stood there, too scared to react. Seemingly dissatisfied with your lack of response, Josuke took your ring finger and shattered it, too. Another muffled scream escaped your lips. 

“Please, my love, I don’t enjoy this. I’m hurting when you’re hurting. Just nod your head for me, okay? Everything will be alright then”, the boy answered, tears streaming down his cheeks as well. Too afraid that he would injure you more, you simply do as he told you. A sigh of relief came from his mouth. “Thank you.” He whispered nearly inaudibly. A few moments later, you could feel how your previously damaged fingers were miraculously healed again. “

H-h-how did-d y-you- “, you stuttered in disbelief, though Josuke immediately interrupted you. 

“I’ll explain it to you another time, okay?” He was all soft edges again as he tenderly took your hands in his. You instinctively flinched at his action, scared that he would hurt you again. But the boy seemed to choose ignoring your reaction. “I’ll pick you up for school tomorrow. I can’t wait to tell Okuyasu that we’re a couple. From now on, we’ll spend every moment together, right, my darling?” You knew, you didn’t have much of a choice. Feeling like you were at his mercy, you peeped a quiet “yes”. Josuke’s face lit up at your compliance. He happily planted a kiss at your forehead. “You should go back inside, I don’t want you to get sick due to the cold”, the boy murmured to you in order to say goodbye. Josuke finally released his grip from your hands, veering himself away from your house. You stared after him, still under shock. But before your now “boyfriend” truly left, he turned around one more time, shooting you his most dazzling smile. 

“Goodnight,” he wished you softly, “dream of me.”

owning a bakery and being discovered by the ada and the port mafia (part 3)

platonic! yosano akiko x f! reader

type of writing: head canons !!

this is part of my head canon series, flour & fluff !!

tag list is open !! go to this google form and fill it out to sign up!

series synopsis: owning a bakery at 20 is tough; even more so when you have to handle members of two opposing organizations! this is your journey to meeting those fools and creating an unlikely bond with each of them. but only at the cost of your peace and sanity.

fandom: bungou stray dogs

content: fluff & platonic stuff but trigger warning!! there may be a sensitive topic for others

*getting grabbed and pulled to an alleyway! alcohol mentioned!*

please remember that yokohama isn’t the friendliest place, especially at night.

previous: part 2 : their beloved president

author’s note: same ages as last time!! (so that means everyone is one year younger than canon; that makes yosano 24)

this one is actually pretty long :0

i got info abt her likes on her wiki page (careful! there’s spoilers!)

and yosano is a queen and no one can tell me otherwise

the doctor is in the house (quite literally)

going grocery shopping was an okay chore in your opinion

it honestly depended on your mood or whatever kind of shit happens when you go shopping

cause like something always, always happens whenever you go do groceries

sometimes it’s good, sometimes it’s bad, and sometimes it’s just plain weird

one time some weirdo proposed to you in the middle of the store asking for a double suicide

he was good looking you’d admit but it’s not like you’d ever see him again

or so you thought

a n y w a y s

every so often, you’d run out of real person food in your apartment

you mostly survive off all of the leftover bakery treats and ingredients—which works out pretty well actually—but bakery supplies unfortunately also run out quite often

and also unfortunately, one time when both fukuzawa & ranpo took a visit to Sakura’s, fukuzawa argued that “no you can’t live off sweets for the rest of your life”

ranpo was scandalized and scrambled to cover your ears

you guys were at it for a while

in the end you sided with fukuzawa causing ranpo to go off about “betrayal from the people he cared most abt” or smth like that

you guys were okay again after bribing him with sweets :)

for bakery supplies you usually have them delivered bc you order them in large quantities bc ahaha no way were you gonna carry like 15-20 50 pound bags of flour no way

when days like those happen, you close up the bakery early so you aren’t walking home when it’s too dark

you scheduled it to happen every first saturday of the month

on those saturdays, you close at 5 instead of at 8

currently, you were at the grocery store looking for basic cooking ingredients such as proteins, vegetables, fruits, and most importantly, snacks

ranpo’s been rubbing off on you

the sun was starting to set and you were walking home with your two bags of groceries when shit went down

tbh you were kinda expecting it cause your grocery run was peaceful for once

but what you weren’t expecting was a wack-a-do to appear out of goddamn nowhere right when you were opening the side door to get to the staircase up to your apartment

like honestly

let a woman do her own thing

the man who grabbed you tried to covered your mouth so you couldn’t scream but you didn’t exactly make it easy for him

you kicked and thrashed around even using the grocery bags—that were somehow still in your hand—as a weapon and the man struggled but he was still bigger than you and was able to bring you to a nearby alley

he reeked of alcohol and you spotted a wedding band on his left hand

not that you cared about the detail in the moment

you kicked him in the groin and in response he let you go only to fall on broken glass that was in the alley way

using the wall to help yourself up, you grabbed a nearby wooden stick and struck him right on his back

your attacker fell and you immediately turned on your heels to escape only to fall back down on the hard cold ground once again

you lift your face up and look back to see the man holding onto your ankle

grabbing a shard of glass—cutting yourself in the process— you begin to swing it at him only for him to easily grip your wrist and stop you

you get ready try and kick him in the groin again but you’re interrupted as your attacker gets sucker punched and flies to wall

you look up to see your savior and you’re blessed to see a beautiful woman, probably not that much older than you are—she’s probably around ranpo’s age— donning a white long sleeve button up, a matching black necktie, knee length skirt, and gloves, along with tights, red heels, and a pretty butterfly clip in her short black hair

but what you really notice is her eyes

ranpo’s eyes were pretty but you like hers just a bit more

you’ve always liked the color magenta

the pretty lady holds out her hand and you take it graciously and thank her as she helps you up

as that’s happening, your attacker gets himself onto his feet and his groan catches both of your attention

he struggles to stand and the pretty lady simples saunters over to him and delivers an uppercut knocking him out cold

you’re stunned and you breathe out a “thank you” making her turn towards you

she notices the condition you’re in

bleeding scrapes on your hands, arms and legs, small rips in your clothes like your tights, blouse, and skirt, and the ruffled state of your hair and clothing

she asks if you live nearby and you tell her that you own the bakery that’s one or two buildings away

when you tell her that, it clicks in her mind that you must be the bakery girl ranpo’s been talking about and the friend fukuzawa was cat sitting for

it’s been abt two weeks since ranpo and fukuzawa first met you and since then, they’ve seen lucky in the office plenty and the boxes of your signature sweets even more

if those two trust you, she has no reason not to

she smiles at you, holds out her hand for you to shake, and introduces herself as the doctor of the armed detective agency

your eyes widen and you smile back at her shaking her hand

“ah! you must be yosano-sensei then! ranpo-san and fukuzawa-san have talked about you! it’s so nice to meet you! im (l/n) (y/n)!”

“they’ve talked about you too, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you (y/n)”

after that exchange she insisted on bringing you home to treat you wounds which you told her it wasn’t necessary

she gave you a pointed look and that was when you realized what state you were in

you sighed and weakly gave in to which she only grinned at

before leaving the alley she walks over to the unconscious man and pulls out his wallet for some sort of identification and home address as you try to see if there’s any groceries still salvageable

after texting the details to kunikida, yosano turns to you poking around the now ruined grocery bags

she simply rubs your back and tells you that the both of you could go buy more groceries together as she was meaning to get some anyways; she even said she’ll pay for you

you refused obviously but she, unknowingly, used the same tactic fukuzawa used with you

“so you’re saying you don’t need groceries?”

“...”

*cue an eyebrow raise from our resident queen*

“...you agency members don’t like making things easy for me huh.”

you gave in reluctantly and at this point you don’t even know why you try negotiating with them

and that’s only three of them

apparently, she was on the other side of the street on the way to buy groceries for the agency when she noticed different produce items on the other sidewalk leading to the alley and she went to check out what happened

ironically, the way to the grocery store from the agency makes you go past Sakura’s but she didn’t realize it until after the two of you had met

before you know it, the two of you are in your apartment kitchen as she cleans and patches up all of your wounds

as she does so the two of you have a little girl talk

you find it quite comforting bc since you opened up Sakura’s you haven’t really had the chance to connect to many people much less other women

you definitely see yosano as your cool, loving, badass older sister

she thinks you’re adorable and agrees with ranpo’s opinion

yup 

that’s right

the opinion that you’re like a little kid </3

you called it a betrayal and all she did was laugh at you <//3

“awhh that’s really cool yosano-sensei!—MFPH?!?”

*squishing your cheeks the same way ranpo did* “ranpo-san was right (n/n)-chan, your cheeks are squishy!”

“?!”

after that small fiasco, the two of you talked some more and bonded over your love for flowers, japanese sweets, and much more!!

you even made a date to have a girls day to go shopping and eat out!

you’re internally squealing a bit bc it’s been a while since you’ve gone shopping

yosano notices and she giggles behind her hand not saying anything bc she knows you’ll only throw a fit

the two of you came around the topic of ranpo when lucky passed by

lucky quickly warmed up to the doctor and cozied up in her lap

“i wish ranpo-san was able to meet lucky when he came by the first time, but then again, he’d probably throw a tantrum if i don’t pay attention to him for 5 seconds”

she snorted at that and like fukuzawa, she shared stories abt the slightly older male

“ranpo-san doesn’t know how to ride a train?”

“unbelievable right?”

“for someone so intelligent i expected more from him”

“i’ll be telling that to ranpo-san, (n/n)-chan”

“wha—?! yosano-sensei please don’t!”

like ranpo, she’s also a tease </3

but you love her anyway <3

eventually, she finished patching you up and promised to treat you to a new set of clothes when the two of you go out

“you don’t need to lose a good set of clothes just because of a sleazy man (n/n)-chan! you deserve better!”

you were going to argue that the rips in your clothes were fairly small and could easily be fixed—except the tights—but you stopped in your tracks when you remembered that it was practically useless to argue against an ada member

the two of you walked to the grocery store and bought both of your needed supplies—along with some extra goodies—and then she walked you back to your place bc it was already a bit dark out

but even if it wasn’t, she would walk you anyways

besides, if anything happened to you, she’s 1000% positive that ranpo and fukuzawa are gonna flip the fuck out not that she wont cause she most definitely will

speaking of which

you were drinking a bottle of water as the two of made your way back to Sakura’s when all of a sudden

“(y/n) you do realize that i have to tell shachou and ranpo-san about what happened today right?”

you choked on your water

“yosano-sensei you can’t! if you do they’ll freak! they won’t leave me alone for at least two weeks! one if im lucky!”

“exactly the point”

you just accepted your defeat already knowing that you’d lose

but maybe you can simmer down their anger towards the bastard with sweets and lucky

you arrived at Sakura’s shortly after and after bringing groceries in, you packaged a bunch of pastries leftover from today—bc you closed early—and bc you’re well aware that ranpo doesn’t share any of the sweets you send him with

you even gave yosano her own special box filled with goodies she loves, and a thermos of fukuzawa’s favorite, your special hot honey lemon tea

other than the sweets, you prepared lucky to spend the night at fukuzawa’s

you really really hoped that doing these things would make them calm down

you shivered at the thought of what their responses would be

you felt really bad for giving yosano all these things to carry and that you were keeping her very late

she assured you that she was fine and that if someone tried to mess with her she’d kick their ass

and after exchanging numbers, the magenta eyed queen bid you a good night and walked back to the agency with lucky walking by her heels

arriving back at the agency, yosano was greeted with some concerns asking if she was alright bc she came back from her grocery run pretty late

(she usually goes in the mornings but today was pretty busy so she left in the late afternoon but now it was already dark)

she waved off the concerns and plopped a couple boxes of your signature bakery boxes at ranpo’s desk, the one for her at her own, the last few boxes in the kitchen for any other agent or clerk to grab, placed the thermos on the desk fukuzawa was by, and picked up lucky and handed him to the president

the two males were pleased with what yosano had brought them, and pleased that another agency member had the chance to meet you

fukuzawa was rubbing lucky and ranpo already snacking on treats as yosano expected

but here comes the hard part

or maybe it’s gonna amusing who knows

“i met (y/n) today.”

“we could tell.”

in goes another treat in the green eyed man’s mouth

“would you like to know how?”

“you bumped into each other, had girl talk, made plans to go out, went grocery shopping, and you brought me and shachou presents.”

“great job ranpo-san, you’re almost completely correct.”

this caught the attention of basically everyone bc they knew ranpo was never “almost completely correct”

“we ended up meeting bc she got attacked on her way home from grocery shopping, i treated her wounds, then we had girl talk and did all the other stuff”

ranpo and fukuzawa froze right in their tracks

“i sent all the info of the bastard to kunikida”

“kunikida.”

“yes shachou”

“find out everything about that man and bring it to me and ranpo”

“...yes shachou”

“and yosano”

“yes?”

“text (y/n) and tell her that her cat, tea, and pastries aren’t going to work as a bribe”

just as you finished taking a shower you sneezed

<<previous // next >>

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A Dream SMP SBI focused AU where all of SBI is related and everybody in the fam know it, except Tommy.

Tommy just assumes that they’re really close friends or some shit, and Wilbur calling Phil dad sometimes is an inside joke between the two.

Like growing up they were a really weird family where all of them had like, their own house/building and they just vibed. Like Tommy was raised by Phil but he doesn’t really remember it (like, can you remember anything from when u were 0-5 yrs old? Cause I sure can’t.) and he was given his own building thing when he was like 5 nearing 6, through that ended up being left alone more. And it was purely by accident, and he started hearing Wil and Techno reffed to Phil as just “Phil”, so he started doing it.

Along time it completely slips his mind that they’re family and not just a very small gated close community, and as I said before they’re a weird ass family Phil leaves on exoditions sometimes. He even might take Wil or Techno along on chance, but not Tommy bc that is a straight up child. Sometimes the trips take months but Tommy isn’t bothered, why should he be bothered that his neighbors leave for months on end sometimes. So the now 7 yr old takes care of himself all alone, and he doesn’t see this as weird bc the rest of SBI doesn’t see it as weird. He just legit thinks that straight up children can live alone and be just fine.

This one time a creeper blows up his house, and because he’s got no clue on how to repair it he just makes a dirt shack. But he thinks it looks ugly (OOC I know) so he carves out this hill and lives in there, and that how he develops a habit of building his homes in hills and mountains. Also when he’s bored he starts mining and accidentally creates these basically ant tunnels that travel underneath the big ass clearing the SBI lives in, there’s also at least one tunnel that goes into/near one of the buildings the SBI have separately.

Tommy doesn’t feel neglected because he doesn’t realize that he should, being left alone for months. He doesn’t feel bad about spending most of his b-days alone because he thinks that he has no friends, and the people around him are just his neighbors and shouldn’t come to the random kids b-day party. He also doesn’t realize that usually ppl have to pay some kind of tax to live in a house somewhere, he jus thinks that u just build a house somewhere and thats it.

He’s kind of is close to Wilbur, but it’s more in the way of saying hi to someone as you pass them but never interacting with them. He gets closer to Wilbur through the drug business.

(Tommy meets Tubbo at the SMP, but they had been pen pals for 6 yrs. They got connected through a magazine that advertised pen pals and how it’d get you one, it worked and they became friends. Tubbo also knows of the fact that Tommy lived alone, and is on the same page as Tommy about the family.)

At 15 (nearing 16) he leaves for the SMP, he waves the rest of the SBI goodbye because for some bizarre reason they all came out to say bye to him based on the one thing he said to Wilbur about leaving. At the SMP things go like normal, except new conflict rises from Tommy simply not paying his taxes. Dream goes to confront him with some other people that tagged along just for the fun of it, only for it to turn into a giant ass street fight because: Dream thinks Tommy’s bullshitting not knowing what taxes are because he knows Tommy didn’t lie to him about living alone before (he believes him bc he knows how to do household chores and up keeping), and Tommy thinks Dream’s just trying to exploit him because he thinks he’s some stupid kid. Said street fight that lasted 2h became know as “The Tax Scrap”, as it was a scrap and in led to taxes being demolished completely so no one had to pay them.......there was a party held for Tommy because of it.

After Tommy turned 16 around the summer months Wilbur comes and they do the whole drug shit and independence, they get way close doing so but not nearly “brother” close. Wilbur’s sad about this because he thinks that Tommy’s mad at him and the rest of SBI for leaving him alone during all of their trips, while Wilbur’s angsting Tommy’s all “I’m so very happy. And I’m getting super close with my old neighbor, this is great! Hey the whole of the SMP looke at the man named Wilbur Soot and know that I’m in no way related to him but we’re just old neighbors!!”. Yeeeh, Tommy unconsciously lets everyone know that they’re just old neighbors. Unknowingly hurting Wilbur because he thinks Tommy doesn’t want anything to do with them and is just acting civil, so he tries to be like 10x friendlier. They become great friends.

Everything happens pretty much the same except Wilbur trusts Tommy less while in the ravine because he still thinks that he hates them, he and Techno also have a angst session while Tommy’s asleep bc they think he hates them. This is before the Vilbur and Festival (the angst session). During the Pit scene Wil says something along the lines of “He hates you, look—look at him. He despises you, look how..—how angry he is!” After the 16th Phil wants to talk to Tommy about everything and make sure he’s alright (Very OOC of him, I know.) but is deterred by Techno telling him how Tommy “hates” them, and that he refuses to acknowledge them as family.

Sometimes Ghostbur slips and calls Tommy his little brother, Tommy’s shocked because did that mean that Alivebur saw him as some kind of little brother figure? He’s very flattered and totally doesn’t hug Ghostbur out of embarrassment. Ghostbur sometimes slips infront of people that aren’t Tommy and that leads to a lot of confused people and a rumor mill (that’s actually true for once) that Tommy and Wilbur were actually brothers, while wisiting or maybe through the msg’s Ranboo asks Tommy about it and receives the anwser that Tommy and Wilbur weren’t brothers but Tommy’s pretty sure that Wilbur saw him as one, at least he assumes from Ghsotbur’s ramblings. Ranboo tells this to people and it leads to a lot of aww’s because adorable, and then those aww’s turn sad bc Ghostbur exists.

Everything goes the same as canon except after Tommy betrays Techno, Techno during the moment he and Tommy are yelling at each other while tnt’s exploding -making it impossibly hard to hear them and messing with the animatic audios- yells something about Tommy being his brother and betraying him. And that leads to Tommy saying something like “Did you really see us as that close...” and now he feels sad bc the friend he betrayed was so attached to him that he saw him as a brother figure, but that sets Techno off more bc Tommy still denounces them as family in his eyes and he’s pissed bc of it. So they start fighting, eventually Phil stops to watch them. He’s also pissed at Tommy for the same reasons, during the fight Tommy gets like super injured or something but neither Techno or Phil want to kill him before they get to know the full reasons as to why he disowned them.

That leads to angsty as hell dialogue that breaks everyone’s hearts, and the whole gang realizing that Tommy didn’t even KNOW that they were family. It’s silent after that (not really there’s like 50 withers still around and explosions are happening left and right, but u get the point), idk how it all ends put it has something like this.

Tommy gets hugged

He’s still bleeding so it hurts and he’s kinda dying

Bc Techno and Phil are sad and kinda want to start over (and let’s be honest no one in that family is fully sane) they figure GhostInnit would be easier to deal with, also they’re still mad at him so they stab him

While also hugging him, it’s real messed up

Some people witness it and are kinda creeped out because to them it looks like two ppl that aren’t particularly close to Tommy are just hugging him after they stabbed him as if they cared

Through some magical power of teamwork and friendship the ppl fighting for L’Manburg (rip) get Tommy away from them, and some other crap happens the two have to flee. Later on Ranboo goes to live with them (fuck yes to that, that boy deserves peace. But fuck Phil adopting him It’ll all go to hell. Have you seen Phil’s other two kids +Tubbo??) but stil travels to the SMP bc I refuse for his friendship to end with Tommy and Tubbo, he kinda carries the news of GhostInnit existing to them unintentionally. So the leads to a game of extreme hide n’ seek where Tommy doesn’t know he’s supposed to hide so people literally just shove him into closets, rooms and houses all willy nilly. The whole servers in on it except Dream who just looks at all of them like that one meme. (No, I do not know what I’m referencing but I know at least 70% your pictures something)

The end vibe: Happy GhostInnit vibing with friends while the whole server is playing hide and seek him as the hider w/out him knowing, if Techno and Phil get him they’re gonna have so much family bonding and consequently make Tommy mad at the server bc he thinks thy were keeping him from his fam on reason, when they’re were just actually trying to keep him away from the two anarchists that were after him for some reason bc they didn’t know about the fam crap. GhostInnit doesn’t know they’re family bc it was kind of a bad memory him dying, he remembers everyone but not the bad things that have happened with them.

(Cross-posted off of Ao3, fics inspired by this one

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28894026

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30526023 )

milf: man i love forests

pairing: deforester boo seungkwan x frat boy mirror demon han jisung (side pairing reagan x rainbow)

genre: crack, strangers to friends to lovers, non-idol au

warnings: cursing, brief supernatural elements, i don’t know if this applies but all lcase, and i listened to christmas music and abba while writing this

word count: 2.7k

authors note: happy birthday @miyuuraiura !! i am so sorry about this monstrosity being your birthday gift but you asked for it so it's your fault entirely. i was gonna include some context on this story for those who are not rainbow and i but actually i don't think i will.

seungkwan did what he could to get by. he loved nature, he really did, but sometimes you have to make moral sacrifices to survive. he was a college kid strapped for cash, and when he saw a sign reading “GET RICH QUICK, INVEST IN DEFORESTATION” in the summer going into his freshmen year, he jumped at the opportunity. sure, he would have rather been a freelance singer, hired for bar-mitzvahs and children's parties, but that job market was flooded at the moment.

jisung, on the other hand, had no care for nature. actually, he didn't care for any human things, apart from “banging parties, booze, the boys™, and bitches”. he hated quite a bit about earth, the worst of all to him being college. as a demon, he had no reason to attend university, but after he was summoned in the bathroom of a frat house by the school’s power couple; rainbow and reagan, he felt obliged to follow the two around and keep them company.

for seungkwan, his main job rarely required in person work. he usually just chose plots of land to demolish, and sent plans to local managers. the only time he actually had to knock down any trees himself was during his summer break. he has a part time job of course, but it didn't provide him enough cash to survive. for someone with a job as a deforester, he truly did do what he could to save the environment. he joined his schools environmental club, becoming vice president his sophomore year because of his work with them. he kept his job a secret, not even telling his parents where the influx of cash was coming from. he kept a low profile and went through the motions of life. he didn't have much of a social life, with his small amount of friends being from the environmental club.

han jisung found joy in witnessing his professors and fellow students lose their minds over his lack of effort in class. he did the bare minimum and still passed with flying colors. most of all, it angered his seatmate in earth science, who happened to be none other than boo seungkwan. seungkwan was a hard worker in everything he did, particularly in school. he didn't get the best grades, but by no means was he the worst. averaging a steady B+, seungkwan spent most of his nights studying or working, rarely going to parties and enjoying himself only through one person karaoke rooms.

this fact upset jisung. he didn't know why, but seeing seungkwan so tired every day made him feel sad(? jisung wasn't sure what it made him feel. it was an emotion he had never experienced before. rainbow told him it meant he had a crush. to this he threw an empty soda can at them). not to mention seungkwan’s upsetting karaoke addiction, which he knew all about the danger of because of reagan, who spent most of her weekends drunk and singing. jisung didn’t know why he took such a liking to seungkwan. what he did know was that he was ecstatic to find that they would be paired together for a project. a project that required quite a bit of teamwork, and a lot of after school work sessions.

seungkwan liked to think that he didn’t hate anyone. he hated evil people, like hitler and stalin and jyp, but he didn’t really hate anyone besides the worst of the worst. that was until he experienced jisung. he wasn’t sure why jisung always talked to him when he was trying to take notes in class. he especially wasn’t sure why he was so excited to be partnered up together for the project that was worth 25% of their grade. seungkwan was less than happy to have to cooperate with jisung for an extended period of time, and he was not looking forward to letting him into his dorm room, or going anywhere near jisung’s frat house. seungkwan had no idea what he was pushed into.

they planned to meet at the cafe on campus at 5:00 pm after class. seungkwan was less than happy. jisung was thrilled. when jisung arrived seungkwan was sitting at a table drinking an americano and working on an english essay. he wasn't sure how to approach him, slowly walked closer before tapping on his shoulder. seungkwan jolted in his seat.

“jesus fuck jisung. you scared the crap out of me,” seungkwan gasped. jisung’s ears flushed as he brought his hand to the back if his neck.

“sorry,” he started, pausing for a second before starting again, “why don't we get started?”. he swung his bag down to the ground as he took a seat. seungkwan offered a small, non genuine smile before pulling out the project’s guidelines.

“let's try to finish this as quickly as possible. im pretty busy and don't have much time to fool around.” seungkwan said. jisung felt his heart drop. did seungkwan really think that little of him? granted, he always dozed off in class but he got his work done on time and in an orderly fashion. he felt his mind begin to wander. if seungkwan felt this way about him now, how would he feel when he found out that jisung was a demon. would seungkwan start to like him if he knew him better? jisung couldn't figure out why he cared so much about how seungkwan perceived him. he had never had an issue with others opinions of him before, so what made seungkwan so different? for some reason, jisung felt the need to connect with seungkwan. if not for himself, then at least to help him let loose.

after working silently on each of their portions of the projects for 3 hours, jisung finally spoke up. “do you want to maybe come to my party next month? well, it's not my party, it's for rainbow’s birthday. i know you're not one for social interaction but it would be cool to see you there. i’ll give you the details if-”

“i’d love to go,” seungkwan cut off jisung’s rambling. to be honest, he wasn't exactly sure what he was agreeing to, but he knew it would shut jisung up, and seungkwan valued his peace and quiet. part of him also just felt downright bad for the other. he seemed to be trying awfully hard to become friends with seungkwan, and he wouldn’t admit it, seungkwan had started to warm up to the boy. he really wasn’t as much of an issue as he had thought before, and was actually really respectful of seungkwan’s wishes. maybe i’ll give him a chance, seungkwan thought before going back to his work.

over the next month, jisung and seungkwan continued meeting to work on their project. seungkwan was less short with the other, and jisung was still red faced every time seungkwan decided to talk to him, which became quite frequently over the next few weeks. jisung was starting to realize that the feelings he had for seungkwan were not simply platonic, and that he didn’t just want to be friends with him. with the help of rainbow and reagan, he had come to the conclusion that he really, really liked seungkwan, and that he was going to do something about it. remembering that he had invited seungkwan to the party, he devised a plan to not only tell seungkwan about his whole “i’m actually a demon” thing, but also about his true feelings. it wouldn't be easy, but it was what he had to do.

a month later, seungkwan still wasn’t exactly sure why he had agreed to go to jisungs frat house at 9:00 pm on a saturday night. yet there he was, standing on the front porch of a large house, wondering if he should bite the bullet and walk in, or spare himself and leave right then. he didn't get a choice, however, as rainbow and reagan stepped out of the house giggling while clutching onto each other. both stopped in their tracks when they saw seungkwan. the couple and seungkwan stared at each other for a good minute before seungkwan shook himself from his trance.

“hey rainbow!” seungkwan started, “and reagan too. i know we aren’t super close, but jisung invited me and i thought i’d just drop by and wish you a happy birthday.” he passed her a birthday card filled with $50 bucks and then turned to leave. “i’ll leave you guys now. have a great birthday!” before seungkwan could get very far, however, rainbow grabbed him by the arm.

“hey, i’d love if you’d stay! at least go say hi to jisung. i’m sure he’d like to see you,” she said, silently making note to have jisung pay her back for being a great wingwoman.

“he’s probably hiding in the second floor bathroom. if you don't see him in there, just say his name three times in front of the mirror. he’ll appear.” reagan explained. seungkwan thought she was joking. how wrong he was.

following his entrance to the house, he had to refuse not one, not two, but three different people who were looking to give him bottles or cups of something which seungkwan presumed to be various types of alcohol. navigating through the house was difficult, reaching the stairs to the second floor only after running into numerous people borderline fucking on two large couches in the living room, a smoke circle taking place in what seungkwan assumed to be a dining room, and a very aggressive makeout session against a wall. once he finally reached the second floor, he had some difficulty finding the bathroom, accidentally walking in on reagan and rainbow, who had miraculously made it upstairs faster than he had.

“if you don’t stop shitting constantly i am going to break up with you! also, stop taking feet pics! it’s weird!” he heard rainbow shout.

“at least i can eat seafood! how does it make your head hurt? you’re the weakest link! that fucking seafood platter was delicious. and you know what, i’m glad i didn’t have to share it with you!” reagan responded. seungkwan quickly shut the door, not wanting to get involved in whatever drunken argument was going on there. after a bit more searching, he finally stumbled across the right room. knocking first to see if anyone was in there, he entered, and to his surprise, nobody was there. jisung was nowhere to be seen. seungkwan reviewed his options. he could a) leave the party, or b) continue to look around the packed house. but there was another option. he thought about it for a second.

“what's the harm in trying,” seungkwan thought out loud, before staring directly into the mirror.

“han jisung, han jisung, han jisung.”

nothing happened. that's what seungkwan thought, until a minute later the lights in the bathroom flickered off and the mirror began to glow. “what. the. fuck,” seungkwan managed to squeak out before falling backwards into the tub. first a leg emerged, then two arms, and finally the rest of jisung’s body.

“i feel like the genie in aladin every time i have to get into a fucking mirror,” jisung complained before seeing seungkwan toppled over. to that view, he jumped down off the counter and moved to help him up. seungkwan, aside from falling, seemed to be reacting well to the whole situation, at least in the sense that instead of freaking out he seemed to be in a state of shock. jisung took this as a good sign, and lifted the motionless body up onto the toilet seat.

“hey seungkwan, you there?” jisung waved his hand in front of seungkwan's face as he slowly came to his senses.

“what kind of twisted party trick was that?” seungkwan asked, pretty seriously. jisung just laughed.

“you summoned me from the mirror. i’m like a funny version of michael jackson except i'm a demon and not a man in the mirror.” jisung explained. seungkwan just stared. “are you ok kwan? do you want me to get you some water?”

“it was… kind of sick.” seungkwan stated. he didn't know why he wasn't scared. under any other circumstance like this one, he probably would have shit his pants. for some reason he felt comfortable around jisung. he felt warm. he felt seen. it was something he hadn't felt before. that's when he realized. he wondered why it took himself to long to figure it out. he never hated jisung. he just didn't know what to do with the fact that he made him feel special, and that he felt as though he belonged when they were together. it had hit him why he was so nervous the whole night, why he had wanted to make such a good impression, and why he was willing to embarrass himself by calling out jisungs name as opposed to just choosing to go home. it was because he loved him.

“can i tell you something?” both of the boys said at the same time. jisung giggled and seungkwan flushed red. **authors note! bonus starts here**

“you first,” seungkwan offered. he wasn't exactly sure he would be able to make it through a sentence without getting any redder than he already was.

jisung took this opportunity to finally get his true feelings out into the air, “i like you… uhh like, i like like you. i have since we first became seatmates. well, i think that's when i've liked you since. i knew whe-”

“you're rambling again,” seungkwan told him. jisung flushed a dark shade of pink. “it's a habit of yours. i think it's cute actually.” seungkwan wasn't sure where his sudden surge of confidence came from, but he was glad it came. he was standing up now, holding jisungs hands in his. jisungs heart was racing a mile a minute as he looked down at their intertwined hands and them back up, catching seungkwan looking directly at his lips. “can… can i kiss you?” seungkwan stuttered out. jisung couldn't find his words, so he opted to just nod.

when their lips connected, seungkwan could have sworn he heard fireworks. he did later find out that someone was setting off a firework in the back yard, but it was the thought that counted. their lips melted together perfectly, and seungkwan wondered why it took him so long to admit his feelings to himself. he could have been kissing jisung for a month before this.

once they finally parted, seungkwan spoke softly, “i like you too. i think that's pretty obvious now but just in case you didn't know.” jisung had the dumbest, most confused face on, and seungkwan had the brightest smile he'd ever had. seungkwan had rendered jisung speechless, for once in his life. not long after, they started kissing again, content with their emotions and their new relationship.

seungkwan was never one to believe that good things were permanent. he was overdramatic, stubborn, and hated interacting with people outside his small social circle. that was until han jisung came along. he was starting to think that maybe, just maybe, he could let someone else into his life.

jisung was a simple man. well, not a man, but he was simple nonetheless. he liked banging parties, booze, the boys™, and bitches. well maybe there was one more thing he liked. he knew for sure he liked boo seungkwan. maybe he loved him. maybe seungkwan even felt the same way.

-fin

**BONUS**

reagan and rainbow leaned up against the door to eavesdrop on their matchmaking work.

“holy shit!” reagan gasped.

“what is it?? tell me what happened. you're hogging up the door!” rainbow hissed.

“our boy is so grown up,” reagan pretended to cry. “put your goddamn ear up here.” rainbow felt her ear connect with the cold door just as jisung confessed his feelings.

“i like you… uhh like, i like like you. i have since we first became seatmates. well, i think that's when i've liked you since. i knew whe-” his next words were cut off on the girls side of the door as reagan squealed.

“shut your mouth! seungkwans saying something!!” rainbow said, obviously annoyed that reagan was obstructing her ability to hear the exchange.

“can… can i kiss you?” they heard seungkwan say. both looked at each other in shock.

“oh. my. god.” was all rainbow could say.

“i think we should give them some alone time,” reagan suggested as she tugged rainbow down the hall.

“i think we need some alone time for ourselves,” rainbow said as reagan pushed her into a random room and locked the door behind them.

First lines meme

Ooo! 😲 thank you for the tag @justanotherfoolhere !!

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20 just list them all!) See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening lines. Tag 10 authors!

I’m incredibly shy so if you would like to do this, I tag you!!

Ah I have some old stories from old fandoms (or side fandoms I should say), but as for MHA, most of my stories are just wips right now. I have approximately 5-6 stories in the works right now, however 3 are just thoughts yet, not written out, 1-2 are RP’s with another person that I’m not sure if I have the ability to share yet 😅, 1 is....extremely, well...NSFW 🙈 even the first line asfkgkka I’m not going to do that one, you’ll just have to read it on ao3 when it’s done 😖

However! I do have a massive story that’s been in the works for over a year now (atm it’s around 57,800 words), I’ve actually gotten stuck on it half way through and a friend is helping me by rping those parts with me. If anyone remembers from forever ago, I talked about writing a story about Toshinori actually becoming addicted to his painkillers, and overdosing during class, that’s this story. I have a good chunk of this written, so to make up for my lack of stories, I’ll post a few paragraphs of the beginning! (I hope that’s ok! 🙈)

((I should note, I don’t normally rp, the ones I’ve done are just with a close friend or two))

So, here’s a few paragraphs of what I’ve been calling “Painkiller” under the read more...

Eyelids sluggishly rise. Each blink seems to be getting slower and slower. And he’s still talking. How the soft furred mammal at the front of their table can speak for hours at a time without so much as a break is a superhuman feat. Of course, the principal isn’t human at all, which probably is how he can accomplish it.

Black eyes glance at the clock on the wall across from him. 1:50 p.m. This was supposed to be a short meeting. A quick briefing on the school’s protection and security upgrades. This is also the time to give feedback on how the procedures seem to be working. It had started during their lunch break at 12:30 p.m., and it’s still dragging on. Snipe as well as a few other teachers that have classes to teach at this time are absent, but the rest of the available staff are present.

Shota massages his eyelids, refraining from gritting his teeth against the stinging, and promptly tipping his head back to apply his eye drops. They’re almost gone, he’ll have to get a refill from Recovery Girl. Shota lowers his head once again, black locks falling back over his face.

He’s exhausted. A full night on patrol and then the morning teaching at UA. He’s done for the day after this, and all he wants is to sleep. He’ll still have to check in with Eri to be sure she’s been ok throughout the day, before he can collapse on his bed. 

Eri was still adjusting to living at UA, but seemed to be doing well so far. When he couldn’t be with her, she had another teacher or staff member watching her. Thankfully, there hasn’t been an instance with her quirk going out of control. Yet. He hopes to keep it that way. She’s just starting school, but slowly. She has a lot of learning in just living before she can worry much about academic intelligence. But Shota has no concerns of her being able to catch up to her age and grade level. Eri’s proven to be smarter than they’ve given her credit for. Perhaps wiser in some ways than a kid her age should have to be.

Shota usually teachers her in his spare time. His hero work has decreased due to his stacking responsibilities. Last night was the first in close to a month, and he can feel in his sore muscles that it’s been too long. Thankfully, he can rest tonight, but if Nezu didn’t hurry this conference up he’s going to be pulling another all-nighter. The temptation to pull out his sleeping bag and snooze in the chair he sits is becoming harder to resist.

Shota’s gaze moves across the room at the other occupants.

Mic sits to his right, closest to Nezu. The man’s listening, but one can see the bored expression on his face as he picks at his painted nails.

Midnight across the table seems a bit more focused. Her arms rest on her lap as she listens to the white animal, adding in her thoughts every now and then.

Cementoss and Ectoplasm sit next to her, both relatively silent.

Shota’s eyes flick to the chair next to his left before moving to the closed door at the room’s entrance.

Yagi had been here as well. A few minutes ago, he had politely excused himself from the room and had yet to reappear.

Maybe he made a break for it, Shota thinks with envy. Though he knows it’s a lie.

It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for the Number One Hero to duck out of meetings and public places for short periods of time. No one questioned him on it, assuming he had business calls or the like. He was All Might after all, and surely a very busy man.

But now the Symbol of Peace is dead, and still the brief intermissions continue. In fact, they’re increasing in frequency. Shota has high doubts about the possibility of impromptu hero phone calls from the man’s agency, but doesn’t dwell on it.

Everyone, even All Might, has secrets. It isn’t Shota’s job to nose his way into everyone’s personal life.

His sore eyes blink in mild surprise when the door he had been focusing on slides open, and the man in his thoughts shyly stoops his head under the doorway to enter back into the room. Yagi closes the door again and takes his place beside Shota, moving quietly to attempt not to draw attention to himself. But it’s a wasted effort; whenever he’s present, all eyes immediately are drawn to him. Plus, it’s hard to ignore a 7 foot man.

Shota turns away, attempting to refocus on whatever their eccentric principal is speaking about.

For a while, the meeting draws on as usual, Nezu doing most of the talking and the other teachers providing input as they see fit. The way the conversation is leading, it seems like things are starting to wrap up. Finally. The last class of the day starts at 2:20 p.m. and that doesn’t leave much leeway room for any teachers that need prep time.

Shota leans back with a silent sigh through his nose, crossing his arms. The sooner this is over, the sooner he can go check on Eri back at the dorms, and the sooner he can crash. Thinking about anything other is too hard to concentrate on.

Through his sleepy fog, something moves in his peripheral vision. Instinctually looking over to his left, he notices the lanky man next to him has wilted in posture, much like a plant with no water. The haze in Shota’s brain clears only slightly, having something more interesting to observe.

Now actually taking the time to study the other, Shota notices the haphazard blonde mane looks messier than normal. Yagi’s long, sinewy hands are placed comfortably on his lap, though a subtle tremble is running through his frame. A sheen of sweat is starting to form above his brow. Though his eyes remain fixed on the principal, the unfocused haze in the cyan pools gives Shota the impression Yagi isn’t paying attention. The normally bright irises are dull and almost completely hidden in the surrounding black sclera.

He looks pale. Must be sick. Shota lets his attention drift back to Nezu. Toshinori Yagi is a grown adult; he can take care of himself. If he doesn’t feel well, he’ll go home. These thoughts stubbornly go through Shota’s mind just before another pushes itself in.

He remembers the tall man entering the teacher’s lounge only two days after the Kamino incident. Yagi had been completely wrapped in bandages, bruises and stitched up cuts littering his body, and one arm was in a sling. Everyone had expected him to still be in the hospital, and not back to UA for at least a week, maybe two.

Shota recalls the other teachers chastising the ex-hero and trying to convince him to go home, to rest. Yagi had politely smiled, one that made Shota’s teeth grind at the obvious artificial gesture. The smile didn’t reach his eyes, only present to soothe their worries.  But Yagi thanked them for their concern. Even then, their coworkers had tried to assist him in any way possible. He had always insisted he was fine, respectfully refusing their help. It became hard for their colleagues to accept when it was obvious the injured man was struggling with even the simplest tasks.

Recovery Girl had made frequent appearances, much to Yagi’s dismay. It was unfortunate his body couldn’t handle her quirk, and he had to heal naturally, so she made it her job to monitor him. She didn’t even try to deny she was only there to check in on him, to make sure he was behaving himself, at least to the miniscule level she could except from Toshinori. She was always disappointed, and expressed so outright. But she could do little to sway him in his own self-care habits, and he always waved her off with another deceptive smile.

If he had forced his straining, overworked, body to comply during that time, what’s stopping him from teaching his class in 15 minutes?

More movement next to him puts Shota’s thoughts on pause. Dark eyes flick over to the older man, being as inconspicuous about his spying as possible. With the black hair covering his face, most people probably can’t tell where he’s looking anyway, and he’s not moving his head at all.

One of Yagi’s arms slowly lifts to his face, resting his sharp elbow on the table. The large and scarred hand covers his mouth, baring his bony wrist and too-thin arm as his sleeve slides down a few inches. The pose might be meant to look like he’s simply resting his chin, gaze still locked on Nezu like he’s listening intently. But sitting this close to him, Shota can see how the tremors in his body have increased, sweat starting to run down the deep crevices of his face in tiny rivers. The glazed over look in those black eyes has been replaced by one subtly emitting a fight or flight expression.

Shota frowns. He’s gonna barf. The pro briefly wonders if he should use his capture weapon to grab the trash can in the corner of the room to prevent a mess on the carpet, or worse, the table.

Before he can act, Yagi’s chair abruptly slides backwards as the retired hero wrenches his body up, fumbles with the door handle, and rushes out of the room as quickly as his unstable limbs can carry him. He barely manages to slam the sliding door shut behind him before he’s out of everyone’s sight, the hasty squeaks of his shoes on the tile floor growing more and more distant.

Nezu pauses at the sudden outburst, all the room’s occupants staring at where All Might had disappeared. The feel of concern weighs heavily in the atmosphere.

Although Yagi had often left before, he always excused himself quietly or snuck away when the attention wasn’t on him. Something this dramatic has never happened.

-----

And we’ll leave it there for now! This is still a wip remember, so things may be changed here and there, but I hope this makes up for my lack of other stories!