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#if i wanna do x thing - i should do it regardless of identity… identity is beside the point completely
starbuck · 2 years
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Listen: if you’re questioning your sexuality or gender and having a really difficult time figuring stuff out, you might wanna try reframing your thinking from “what am I?” to “what do I want?”
If you want to have sex with men, do it! If you want to go on hormones because the physical affects are desirable to you, do it! If you don’t want to have sex at all, (don’t) do it!
Labels can be a wonderful thing, don’t get me wrong, but they can also cause you to second-guess yourself into paralysis if you give them too much importance. You can always label your identity later on if you want to, but, in the meantime, don’t let stress over which label is “right” stop you from doing what makes you feel fulfilled in the here and now.
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 10 months
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Hello! I just wanna say your writing is amazing, and I absolutely adore your tmc stories and writing overall it's so good!!!! I was wondering if I could get a continuation of the Adam x gn reader where they found him alongside Thatcher (maybe they drive him to somewhere safe like an inn/motel and care for him. Whether it be cuddling, reassurance, allowing him to vent. Bcuz they just don't mind him being an alternate. Regardless of what he is they care for him and want the best.) I need my boy to feel okay :(
Aw thanks! I'm surprised ya'll wanted continuations for not just one of my Adam fics, but TWO of them. It makes me happy though!
For this one, I imagine Reader finding out how truly difficult helping Adam is gonna be when he starts acting more like an Alternate, but it's a fight they refuse to give up on.
So enjoy <3
Read the first part/prequel here
..........
"Well..here we are. I told the lady we're staying several nights, but my credit card should cover it."
Opening the door to the motel room, you pocketed the key before heading inside to check things out, tossing some bags onto the table.
Adam, in the meantime, stood there awkwardly in the hallway. But after you called his name, he snapped out of his trance and entered--
Only to bump his head on the top of the doorframe and wince in pain, rubbing the spot where it hurt as he scowled at nothing specific.
After everything that's happened tonight, he forgot that his painful metamorphosis and splintering of bones made him a few inches taller...not that he considered it a plus in any way, shape, or form.
If the circumstances were different, he'd probably brag about it to everyone.
Fortunately you didn't notice his mishap, as you were making sure there weren't any TVs or mirrors in the room. Not just for your own safety, but also for Adam's sanity, too.
He couldn't stand seeing his reflection in anything; even the van's rearview mirror made him freak out when he accidentally looked at it, screeching uncontrollably and screwing up the radio's signal until you finally figured out what was wrong and covered it up.
That's the first and only time you nearly crashed the van, thank goodness.
The rest of the drive was uneventful until you found this rundown motel somewhere on the outskirts of Werksha County, deciding it's the safest place to lay low until you both figured out what to do next.
Of all things, you never expected one of your closest friends to be an Alternate--not one who recently killed him and stole his identity, but one who didn't even know what he was until this very night.
Apparently, the "Intruder" revealed that he had replaced his real counterpart at only 4 years old, his mom having been dead this entire time...and deciding that now was the time for him to 'awaken".
Though given how he was crying, screaming, and begging for death when you and Thatcher found him, it's obvious he didn't take that news very well and didn't want to be anything like them.
He lived as a human for so long..he was convinced that he is one and refused to accept his reality.
You couldn't bring yourself to hate him for something he had no control over, nor were you going to ever treat him like one of those monsters.
They were heartless and evil...and while Adam himself acted that way for the past several weeks, pushing away everyone who cared about him, you realized he regretted it deeply. Surely Alternates don't feel things like that.
Eventually you'll have to tell Sarah and Evelin the truth, and also find out where BPS goes from here.
But none of that was important right now.
Taking care of him was.
"Alright. Everything looks good...shit, even the beds look pretty decent. I'm surprised."
Blinking, Adam looked to see you plop down onto one of the beds, laying on your back. "You gotta come over here, man. I promise it's comfier than it looks."
After a bit of silence, you heard some shuffling noises and glanced at him as he limped over to the other bed. He sat down and shrugged off your BPS jacket, using it like a blanket before he curled up on the mattress, resting his head on the pillow and tucking his lanky limbs close to his chest.
In a way, he almost acted like a cat...which was kinda cute.
"Yeah I'm pretty tired, too. You need anything, Adam?" You asked.
All you got was a shake of his head in response, his eyes already closed.
'Right..we both need some sleep. I know he definitely does. We'll figure out some game plan in the morning, then..' You took off your shoes, leaving them on the floor before getting under the sheets and turning off the lamp light.
"Well..goodnight."
He mumbled something, but you assumed was also "goodnight" and eventually fell fast asleep..
Until your short-lived dream turned into a nightmare.
You found yourself standing alone in a dark void, hearing the muffled screams of your friend that sounded so close...and yet so far away. But no matter what, you couldn't find him anywhere, even as you ran and called out his name.
If anything, it felt like you were moving even further away.
Then you were halted by a figure descending from the sky--being that same mysterious angel statue you saw back in the van, except its face was covered by a black square. Its movements, however, were quite lively as it spoke to you in the same voice that claimed itself to be your "intuition".
It whispered that you could not save the "Mandela Prophet" from his destiny, even though what he did tonight was unexpected--implying that he was supposed to harm you.
But it vowed that his "disguise" will eventually shed itself..and when it does you won't be safe anymore.
You refused to believe it, instead asking what it wanted from you.
Its response?
"I want you to open your eyes"
Suddenly you woke up, heart pounding a mile a minute as you looked around the dark motel room. It took a moment to realize you were out of that horrible dream.
But then you ceased all movements as you noticed the time on the alarm clock displayed 3:33 AM in red neon....before seeing a skeletal figure sitting on the edge of your bed, uncomfortably close.
It stared down at you with white pupils rolling around in its eyes, its mouth hung open--stretching to biologically impossible proportions as it spoke in whispers you couldn't decipher, despite its mouth not moving at all.
"A-Adam? That you?"
You bravely turned on the lamp light, rubbing your eyes to see that it was indeed your friend watching over you. His mouth was back in its normal place...although you did see it wide open for a split second after light filled the room before he closed it immediately.
It did give you a mini heart attack, forgetting he was capable of something like that, though you tried acting like you never saw it at all.
"S-Sorry..I didn't mean to wake you up." He apologized, clearing his throat. "I...couldn't sleep. Fuck, how can I?"
"It's alright. I don't think I can either." Sighing, you sat up and smiled reassuringly at him. "We've been through a lot of shit tonight, and-"
"You need to kill me."
Your smile faded as you stared at him, confused when he shoved one of his pillows against your torso. It had stuffing torn out of it, the case covered in blood and saliva.
"What the--?!" You blinked, looking down in horror. "Adam, is this your bl-?!!"
"I tried it and it didn't fucking work...s-so I need you to do it for me. Please." He begged. "I've tried everything else!!"
'Is he...asking me to smother him..? Was he...actually screaming earlier?' Your heart sunk into your stomach at the realization he tried killing himself while you were sleeping, but you shook your head.
"Adam we're not having this conversation again. I can't do that to you, okay? It's not going to work, and even if it did...I just...I can't. If you think I'm okay with straight-up murdering you-"
"Just do it, [y/n]...I-I don't care how long it takes. I don't want to be your burden anymore. I just...I want this to END!!!" He panicked, growing frustrated that you weren't taking the pillow as he now kneeled in front of you, hands trembling. "I'm one of those sick fucks that took your family away! So get revenge! KILL ME!!!"
"But you're not." Your gaze softened, resting your hands over his own. "You didn't kill them. You're my friend-"
"How can you see THIS as a friend-d-d?!!" He wailed, tearing himself away from you as coarse static began to overlay his voice. "This "friend" hurt so many people...Jonah...a-and Evelin...and it's going to hurt you too if you don't stop me!! PLEASE JUST FUCKING END MY SUFFERING-G-G!!!
You desperately tried to calm him down, afraid that someone in the neighboring rooms would hear all of his screaming and howling.
But he didn't stop.
"Shhh! Adam-! Adam, please just-!!"
"STOP IT!! DON'T CALL ME THAT!!! THAT'S NOT MY NAME!! IT WAS NEVER MY NAME!! I lied to you...I DECIEVED you, and you were too stupid to realize it.."
"...h-huh?" You froze, bewildered as his face suddenly became devoid of all emotion, staring dead at your confused expression.
"You stopped that cop from putting a bullet in my head." Tears began streaming down his bony cheeks, his jaw going slack as he spoke. "You're so selfish. You're a coward. Don't you see how horrible you are..keeping me around?! You think I can be saved?! You're only making me SUFFER, [y/n], and it's all your fault!"
You were shocked at the things he was saying to you, wondering if the last of his humanity had finally slipped away...and this is all that remained now.
"A-Adam, please stop-"
"PLEASE STOP! PLEASE STOP! PLEASE STOP! PLEASE STOP!" He began to mimic your voice to near-perfection, hearing hysterical laughter coming from him despite his expression not matching it at all.
You could tell from his eyes alone that he wasn't in total control over himself. He wasn't doing this on purpose.
It was those Alternate instincts trying to override him, attempting to submit you to the symptoms of M.A.D.
Begging him to be quiet was no longer working. You had to try something else...something that would catch him off-guard.
And you finally figured it out.
Taking the pillow, you tossed it aside before gently pulling Adam into your arms, once again being careful not to crush any of his fragile bones. Almost immediately his laughter stopped, his whole body seizing up.
Without the jacket you've previously given him, you could feel how extremely skinny he was, his vertebrae almost poking through his flesh. But it didn't stop you from wrapping your arm around his back, petting his hair soothingly with your other hand.
"...what are you doing-g?" He asked, his voice muffled by your shoulder. "Don't touch me! I-I'm...I will....!"
"You'll what?"
"......."
From the way his entire form gradually went slack in your arms, you realized he was (somewhat) back to his old self, and smiled. "See? You're not hurting me now, and you didn't before. I still trust you, Adam."
He didn't do anything for a few long moments, but just when you were about to let him go, he suddenly hugged you back and fully buried his face into your shoulder, sobbing.
"I'm so sorry, I-I didn't mean to...! I'm sorry, I'm sorry..!!"
"It's okay. I know you didn't mean any of it." You consoled, allowing him to pull you closer to him. As much as he tried, he could barely crush you..considering he had little strength left. "It's okay, we're both okay."
He just shook his head, still devastated that he tried giving you M.A.D and couldn't stop himself. "Th-This is why I wanted you to leave me..b-before I say stupid shit like that and hurt you...."
"C'mon, you've said a lot of "stupid shit" over the years. It's gonna take more than that to drive me away." As you rubbed his bare back, you could feel him nuzzling into your shirt more, desperate for warmth that his own body no longer provided him.
"I-It's so cold. I'm scared, [y/n]...I'm scared of myself." He choked. "None of this feels...real."
"I know. I...can't even imagine what's been going through your head tonight. But you're still my friend, and nothing's gonna change that. Not even this, alright?"
After a few moments of silence he nodded, sniffling. "I'm sorry for putting all of this on you. But....if you have to kill me-"
"Adam."
"R-Right, right...I'm sorry. I won't bring it up again.."
"....we'll figure out something else, okay? And I'll be here for you. Just like always."
Although Adam didn't verbally respond to that, he let go of you and laid down beside you, indicating he wanted to at least attempt to sleep. You were surprised that he didn't just return to his own bed, but you weren't going to be a dick and kick him off.
So you gave him most of the sheets and blankets, knowing he needed them far more than you did. He only mumbled a small "thank you" before turning his back to you, now tucked under the blanket.
You got under the covers as well, switching off the light again, but you heard him still crying softly into the pillow and groaning in pain, clearly trying to hide it from you.
It hurts that you couldn't take away his pain.
The one thing you could do, however, was comfort him..now knowing he wasn't going to push you away like he did before. So you gently put your arm around him, closing some of the space between you two while not being too constricting.
And while he didn't stop crying right away, he eventually quieted down and fell asleep with one less worry on his mind.
You hoped it wasn't too weird--just something to reassure him that you're gonna be right here when he awakened.
It did the trick.
You weren't going to leave him.
Not anytime soon.
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yrbutchgf · 2 years
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hey! im thinking abt whether or not butch is a word I wanna identify with, I'm bi and not cis (amab), but dislike the nonbinary label because of the massive stereotypes (white afabs frogs and mushrooms) and I love masculinity but I want to appreciate it the way my butch friends do. course first I wanna know if its even like, alright or respectful for me to say um butch, considering I'm bi and amab, and second, if I was butch how could that relate to my gender?
honestly, it sounds to me like butchness could be an incredibly fulfilling label for you. i can personally relate, though i myself am afab, to your discomfort with the stereotypes often put onto the nonbinary identity. like many things about myself, i only really began to feel comfortable referring to myself as nonbinary once i was able to approach nonbinarity from the direction of butchness. over time, butchness has become to me basically the more specific way of describing my gender -- nonbinary as the environment, butch as the center. this isn't to say necessarily that you should or need to identify as nonbinary, obviously. it just seems to be a very similar experience.
to answer your first question, yes, it's absolutely alright for you to call yourself butch, regardless of your gender, assigned at birth or otherwise, or your sexuality. butchness and femmeness are categories of identity, presentation, and understanding of self that are much richer and more inclusive than many people (especially online) realize. if you love the relationship to masculinity that butchness offers, if you love the community of understanding that butches often share, if calling yourself butch makes you feel more steady and at home in yourself, if it feeds you, there is no reason for you not to pursue it. i do have a masterlist with links to resources about people of all genders and sexualities being historically butch and femme here, if you'd like to read more about that.
nothing but love, x.
edit: i almost forgot -- i'm part of a butch/femme server that's a really wonderful environment. if you'd like to join, you can find more information here. people who are questioning are absolutely welcome.
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georgiapeach30513 · 2 years
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Can you give us a little glimpse of Birdie Mae an Raiden 🥹🥹 pretty Please 🫣🥰🥰🫣
Are you ready for this sweetness?? Think, Story mixed with some James Rogers and you get how convinced Raiden is that Birdie Mae is his girl! So here’s a wittle glimpse of how he was going to let her and everyone else know that this big boy had his eyes on that tiny little hippy princess.
🖤🖤🖤🖤
Oh No
Summary: Raiden gets caught
Pairings: Raiden X Birdie Mae, Carter X Story
Rating: 🥹🥹💎
Warnings: none, 18+ ONLY
Word Count: 1.6K
Desperate Lives AU Masterlist
Raiden Baizen Masterlist
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“Raiden Carter Baizen,” Raiden drops one of the jewelry pieces he had in his hands back into the drawer and spins around to give his dad a sweet and innocent smile. “What are you doing in your mom’s tower?”
“Nothing,” the little boy who looks much older than he actually is, despite his baby face, holds his hands behind his back toying with the necklace.
“You were in one of your mom’s drawers. You know this whole tower is off limits unless mommy is with you. So what were you doing in here?” Carter walks a bit closer, and he sees his youngest son gulp, refusing to look at Carter. “Raiden.”
“Nothing.”
“Show me your hands,” bringing his hands out in front of him, he can’t hide the diamond necklace any longer and his eyes fill with tears.
“I’m sorry. I just wanted something pretty for Burd-Dee,” while he speaks very plain, his little voice enunciates her name so sweetly. “Daddy, I’m sorry.”
“Why is my baby crying?” when Story walks in, dropping to her knees to hold him, he cries even harder. “Carter, what’s wrong?”
“Maybe he should explain to you why he was in your tower. Without me.”
“Raiden, is that true?” his chubby and blotchy cheeks nod a yes, and Story tries to change her face to be serious. Settling down, she sits on her bottom. Tapping on the carpet for him to sit in front of her. Taking a moment to see that he is still very much young, regardless of how tall he is. His sweet curls framing his face that’s identical to his dad’s.
“You wanna tell mommy why you were in here?” he shakes his head no, and grabs at the necklace he had dropped to the floor to put behind his back. “Ahh. Who were you getting that necklace for?”
His cherub face only shrugs, but still he doesn’t look at his mom’s eyes. “Buddy, I’m guessing you got it for a sweet little farm girl named Birdie Mae?”
“How did you know?” he finally looks up at Story, and then over to his dad who still hadn’t left the doorway. Leaning over to give both of them loving looks.
“Rai Man, you tell us daily that you’re going to marry her.”
“I will marry her!” to emphasize his point, his fists slam on his lap, and he pouts. “I will. And I want to give her something pretty.”
“Mommy’s jewelry isn’t yours to give, buddy,” Carter finally joins the two in the floor and Raiden looks up at them with a confused face.
“She has so much.”
“Because she asks for so little,” he reaches over to put Story’s had in his lap. Toying with her rings, her first engagement ring still the one she preferred to where. “I like the way mommy looks in diamonds.”
“Burd-Dee will look beautiful too. Her eyes will sparkle.”
“One of the first gifts I gave mommy was a necklace. Not quite as fine as the one your clutching behind your back,” reaching into his pocket he pulls out that white rose necklace. The delicate petals pitiful looking with the years, and Carter’s constant touching of it whenever he misses Story. “She wore it everyday until she gave me her heart.”
“I want Burd-Dee’s heart,” he answers matter-of-factly. So sure of this proposition. “She will marry me. She just doesn’t know it. I gotta make her want to. Diamonds.”
“Not mommy’s.”
“Baby, how about daddy takes you shopping, and you pick out Birdie Mae’s own necklace. This isn’t rewarding you. But, I know a thing or two about falling for someone when you’re little. And if you want something for Birdie Mae, instead of stealing it, how about you come to mommy and daddy, okay?” Carter turns and gives Story and look but she ignores him. “Make sure it’s really pretty okay?”
_________________________________________
“Go on,” Carter gives his son a little push towards the cabin steps, but he freezes, looking at his dad, before taking a deep breath. “This is your gift. If you want her to have it, give it to her. If you’re not ready, we can wait.”
“No,” his feet stomp along the steps making those chubby cheeks jiggle before he knocks on the door. Carter stands back and waits. Hoping that it’s Beau that opens the door, and like usual, Carter gets his wish.
“Raiden…what?” Beau gives an odd wave to Carter, before squatting down to Raiden.
“I need to see Burd-Dee Mae,” Beau screams into the house for the little girl, and looks back at Raiden. “Beau, I will marry your daughter. She just doesn’t know it yet.”
“This is a bad idea.”
“No. She will be my songbird one day, and,” that angelic face lights up when Beau’s tiny little princess stands behind Beau. Giving a shy wave to her classmate, and asking her dad to leave. “Burd-Dee Mae, you will be my wife. But I got you something pretty.”
He hands over the box, and Birdie Mae looks at her dad, her cheeks heated, and she can’t believe Raiden said that in front of him. Still she opens the box, and giggles at the diamond necklace that looks similar to the one he was taking from Story. Birdie Mae slaps her hand over her face and thanks him. “Daddy, can you put it on me?”
“When…when I own your heart, you give me that necklace, and I’ll carry it in my pocket, and touch it when I want to think of you, so I’ll always be touching it.”
“Oh no,” Beau looks worried out at Carter who shrugs. “Oh no.”
“Thank you, Raiden,” her body twists around and she taps at her chest where it lays.
“Oh no.”
“Will you give it back to me tomorrow?” Birdie Mae only giggles but shakes her head no. “So the end of the week?”
“If we get married. Bye Raiden Baizen.”
“Oh no.”
_________________________________________
“My baby did not say that,” Story is in disbelief as Carter kisses over her body. “I wish I was there. He just…and Beau couldn’t stop saying, ‘Oh no,’ poor guy.”
Carter’s face pops up from her chest, and he sighs, “Poor guy? He knew exactly where Raiden got that from. Your rose. Beau knew all about it.”
Story rolls her eyes, and tries to push Carter back on her skin for more kissing.
“I can’t believe I let him talk me into a five hundred dollar necklace for a five year old.”
“Don’t go there,” Story mocks disapproval to him. “You make more than that by opening your eyes. She’ll cherish that necklace forever.”
“You don’t think it’s weird?”
“What? Raiden and Birdie Mae? No.”
“You’ve slept with her father,” Carter deadpans. “He was in love with you until he was like twenty-one years old.”
“And who is lying in my bed, and has been for over a decade? Mom slept with Beau’s dad, has a kid with Frank. No one thought it was weird that Beau chased after me. He was my best friend first. Beau and I were never meant to be more than that,” Carter only gives her a flat face. “Baizen, you have only ever been the one for me.”
“Archibald?”
“Why are you bringing him up?” Carter shrugs. “He was the closet thing to a relationship. But he still wasn’t you. I really don’t want to talk about our past. I think our giant boy with his big head, and his clumsiness because his body is bigger than his brain and that adorable little freckle faced doll baby are precious.”
“I don’t want to marry our kids off.”
“Babe,” grabbing Carter’s cheeks she pulls him in for a hard but playful kiss. “He is the only one that’s chosen anyone.”
“How did that turn out for you, James, and Iris?”
“I think we all have beautiful lives with the person we love and have fun with. Baizen over ten years later, and I still have fun with you. For three decades I have loved you, and you’re still the brightest one in the room with me. We’ve got a few kids to show how we can’t keep our hands off each other. If you were the only person I was with, I would still be so happy. Look at Iris and James. So let my baby be in love with his Burd-Dee Adler, and one day he’ll make her Burd-Dee Baizen. Oh that sounds nice.”
“Shut up and kiss me,” Carter whispers before crashing his lips into hers.
___________________________________________
“He said he’s going to marry her. He’s too big.”
“They’re five,” Arleigh giggles. Her lead lays on his chest while they watch the moon’s reflection on the water. “I think it’s sweet.”
“I have one daughter. You gonna give me another one?”
Arleigh shakes her head, “Three is enough for me.”
“You get two boys. I have one precious daughter. And…a Baizen has his eyes set on her. He’s like Story on crack.”
“Eh,” Arleigh gives him a yawn, snuggling closer to her husband. “She’ll never have to work if she doesn’t want to. He’s a billionaire, his family is bound and determined he’ll play for the Pats one day, and the amount of money they’ll spend on private coaches, he just may. They’re five though. Can they just be little.”
“He tried to kiss her behind the slide. I’ll have to get Arlo to get him. No! Z, I’ll get Z to talk to his little brother. He’s protective of Birdie Mae. Says that was his first sister. Yes, that’s what I’ll do. Arleigh?” he hears her soft little snore, sound asleep and not at all worried about this situation. “I just gotta make sure this doesn’t happen before she’s thirty.”
Masterlist
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Laurel Wreaths & Animal Teeth (5)
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(c!Technoblade x fem!Reader)
(got a decent amount of interest on chapter 4 so here’s chapter 5! hope you all enjoy! and remember, chapter 6 depends on how well this chapter does! so remember to comment and reblog! thanks y’all! <3)
————-
You’d rung the bell, the sound alerting the villagers that things were all okay again. Soon they were all outside again and a lot came over to see what was going on. You were standing by two human kids. Villagers were typically pretty neutral to humans, unless they hurt them or broke their stuff. Though they tended to avoid humans (even the small/young ones) because of how dangerous they had the potential to be. 
This was sorta reinforced by today’s little drama. But with you there the villagers weren’t worried. They trusted you to keep them safe and protect them and their homes/businesses. Plus a few of them kind of heard you scolding the two human boys and well, villagers are true gossips because word spread through the small population hilariously fast. And yes they may have snickered over the two boys getting lectured like they did. But you’d never know that.
During this Tommy and Tubbo took the time to look around at the village. They noticed there wasn’t a single piece of cobblestone anywhere, much to Tommy’s outrage and Tubbo’s amusement. Tommy made sure to loudly gripe about how the village lost all of it’s ‘cool factor’ because you took the cobblestone away. He even started to say that if cobblestone was like a woman he’d-... but he stopped when he seemed to realize that not only was he standing directly next to an ACTUAL woman but an adult one…
He started sweating nervously and shooting a glare at Tubbo when the brown haired boy snickered at his uncomfortable position, but in the end he sort of mumbled,
“Uh.. you don’t wanna know what I’d… do.. pft.” 
Tubbo couldn’t hold it in anymore and broke out into laughter, with Tommy right behind him. While you just shook your head and made a ‘tsk’ing’ noise at the goofy pair. But you didn’t bother to hide your amused smile. Once they’d calmed down you resumed your trek. 
As you walked the two boys noted the second thing that stood out to them in the village were all the identical patterned banners that were hung up. The two tone ones with the golden suns on them. Tubbo lightly tugged on your sleeve, causing you to blink and look down at him curiously, and he asked why you hung them up everywhere. Was it to show this was your village or?
“Huh? Oh no, I didn’t hang those up, the villagers did. Though I made the original ones, the ones I hung up on my home. But the villagers liked them so much they made their own,” you explained with a calm smile.
Hearing this made the boys share a confused look before Tommy bluntly said that villagers never made patterned banners, they only hung up the plain ones. He’d never heard of them making banners ever. But you just shrugged and said the day after you’d hung up yours the villagers had all started copying you. You’re not 100% sure why (though you have a suspicion it’s the worship thing… but you didn’t bring that up..), you just assumed it was because they took a liking to them.
“I just wanted some decoration for my house and made the banner to spruce the place up, and it was sweet they liked them so much,” you added with a smile.
Tommy tilted his head before looking around the village and asking which house was yours. He pointed at one that was made of wood, stone, and pink terracotta and asked if that was it because ‘you’re a girl, girls like pink right?’ which just made you laugh and shake your head. 
“Some girls like pink, sure. Though I know some boys do as well. But no that’s not my house. Mine is up there on the hill at the other end of the village, see?” You pointed towards your temple home and the two boys followed your gesture and their eyes widened at the sight of the huge white quartz temple. 
Almost instantly Tommy started shouting about how that wasn’t a house, it was some kinda mansion or something! You just laughed and asked if he’d even ever seen a mansion before. He paused for a second, mouth open like he was going to say something but nothing came out. But then he caught himself and loudly said he’d seen LOADS of mansions before! So he knew what he was talking about.
You didn’t bother questioning him, you know he didn’t sound too sure, but what harm was there in letting him pretend he knew when he didn’t? Regardless, you and the two boys continued walking through the village, but Tommy and Tubbo (thinking that made you feel crazy still) said they wanted to see your cool house. You raised an eyebrow and asked if ALL they planned to do was look.
“It took exactly two days and two nights to build it, I don’t want two troublemakers wrecking it,” you said with a suspicious tone.
Tommy was first to heave a put upon sigh as he said they weren’t gonna wreck your stuff! But it was Tubbo who cut in and said that no way did you build that huge thing in just a couple days! It would have had to take you a week at best! 
You tilted your head and said it didn’t take a ‘couple days’ only, it took two days and two nights straight. But that answer just baffled the two boys more. And Tommy said in a disbelieving voice,
“You built for 48 hours straight?” You nodded and Tommy raised an eyebrow, not seeming to believe you.
“What, did ya just eat along the way?? Fought mobs while building at night??” He asked, sounding amused. And you, entirely without thinking how WEIRD it was going to sound, just replied that you’d sort of forgotten to eat while you were building.
“Yeah I got way too focused on building and after scrapping the first three builds I tried and settled on my temple house I got too into it and forgot to eat or sleep.”
You admitted it with some shame before quickly turning to the two stunned boys and saying they shouldn’t do stuff like that, it was irresponsible and dangerous! Tommy frowned and replied that YOU just admitted to doing those very things! But you countered that you were an adult and allowed to make your own stupid choices, but as kids they should heed smart advice. 
“It’s very much a ‘do as I say, not as I do’ type situation,” you said with a wry smile.
The blond was very much going to argue against that but you all finally scaled the path leading up the hill to your temple home and Tubbo saw the chest situated outside your home to the left of the front door. Without thinking he went over and started plundering through the chest, but yelped when you smacked his hand, causing him to pull both hands out of the chest and tuck them close to his stomach.
“Don’t go through my gift chest! The villagers use this to give me thank you gifts!” you scold the brunet boy. 
They start bombarding you with questions, like why on earth do the villagers give you gifts? What kind of gifts were they? What’d you do to earn them? Are you blackmailing the villagers? If so, then can you teach them how to do that? You burst out laughing at the way the questions just got more and more absurd. 
“No! I do not blackmail anyone! Lord, what is with you two kids? No, I work to protect the village and help the villagers master their crafts. And in return they thank me with gifts they make,” you answered with an amused grin.
But it seemed the blond only focused on one part of your reply, and it was the part where you called him a kid. A split second of dumbfounded stunned silence ensued before he snapped out of it and started raging, much to your and Tubbo’s amusement.
“I ain’t no CHILD! I am a MAN! A tall and powerful man who don’t gotta take crap from nobody! TUBBO STOP LAUGHING! SHE CALLED YOU A CHILD TOO!”
Tubbo didn’t even respond, he was too busy laughing. You were laughing too but managed to calm down enough to say that there was nothing wrong with being a child, it just meant you had more learning to do and experience to gain. Tommy and Tubbo seemed to calm down at hearing this, at least until you reached out and pinches both boys’ cheeks and cooed,
“And besides, you’re both cute widdle babies~!”
Now they were both hollering about ‘not being babies!’ and kicking up a huge fuss, much to your amusement.
-0-
After that you’d gone through the day’s gifts and saw most of them were the usual stuff (but still great). Plenty of bread and fruit, potion stuff, and a fur blanket. You packed away the food in a chest, put up the potion supplies by your brewing station, and threw the nice fur blanket across the end of your bed as decoration. All in all they were lovely gifts.
But one of the gifts really stood out. A red wooden box. And when you opened it you saw it had 6 engraved gold bangles. And they had different engravings. Some were carved to have leafy vines, some had geometric shapes, others had fish scale patterns, and even some with simple swirls and dots. But they all had a hinge to open them and a thin chain to keep them from falling off should they accidentally come open.
You loved all the gifts the villagers got you, how could you not? They were the fruits of their labor and skill! But these bracelets just hit different? You’d always liked gold, it was pretty and just crisp looking. SO without hesitation you’d put the bracelets on, three on each wrist before admiring them in the waning light of the sunset.
You’d even showed the two teen boys after you put them on and they said they looked nice, though you could tell they were only being polite, most likely because they had no interest in jewelry. Though you appreciate them trying to be nice for your sake. But while you were admiring your latest gift Tubbo noticed something simmering in your cauldron by your brewing stand. 
He cautiously approached it while you were showing Tommy your enchantment table and library (tommy wanted to enchant his sword). The brown haired boy let the scent from the lightly bubbling cauldron waft across his face and he breathed it in with a pleased sigh. Whatever this was it was clearly food, but damn did it smell like utter heaven! He could see chunks of steak, cuts of potato and carrot, and some other green bits he didn’t recognize. But he did recognize the light golden sheen the stew(?) had. Just like an enchanted golden apple! 
All three of you blinked when a sudden growing gurgle sounded through the quartz temple. You and Tommy looked over at Tubbo, whose face was red with embarrassment. He laughed awkwardly and said the food smelled good, and he hadn’t eaten since breakfast as his excuse. But you just gave a laugh and went over to the cauldron, scooting him out of the way so you could check on it. 
The two watched you stir the concoction with a wooden spoon before tasting some and letting out a pleased hum. Cooking was similar to potion making so you’d started doing both lately to keep yourself busy. You’d started with the recipes you already knew from the game. Mushroom stew, beetroot soup, rabbit stew, bread, etc. But those got boring fast so you decided.. why not try something new? So you’d started just doing whatever sounded like a good idea.
You learned LOTS of new recipes (and made sure to jot them down in a book so you didn’t forget them/what they did) but you also made some truly vile foodstuff. Lots of your failed concoctions ended up in the trash. But this latest one actually tasted darn good to you. After trying it you even noticed it gave you the same effects as the enchanted golden apple. Which was cool since you’d marinated the steak you’d put in the stew in a bowl of enchanted gapple juice. 
Behind you you could hear Tubbo bugging Tommy, asking him to give him some food since he ran out and his hunger was low. But Tommy refused, saying he only had one loaf of bread left and Tubbo should have brought more food! You rolled your eyes at the bickering pair of boys before wordlessly grabbing some wooden bowls and scooping some of the enchanted beef stew into them before calling over your shoulder,
“Y’all two want some stew? It turned out really good this time I think.”
Tubbo gave a thankful, “Oh yes, please!” while Tommy gave a childish, “Yeah! Gimme!” that made you want to laugh at their silliness. But instead you just handed over the two bowls of stew. You turned back around to grab yourself one (because you might not NEED food but it still tastes good) and while your back was turned you heard them greedily slurping and munching on the stew. You’d turned back and came face to face with two boys with empty bowls held out to you to show they’d like more. You barked out a laugh and teasingly asked if it was any good. 
Tommy didn’t seem to want to wait and shook his bowl and demanded in a snarky tone to “Hurry it up woman!” which.. made you frown. You were giving him a very unamused look, which he seemed to register and realize he may have misstepped here. He sweat anxiously with a nervous smile while Tubbo’s face dropped and he held his own bowl closer to his chest, not liking the tense silence. For some reason having you upset with him made him not feel so good. Like it was a bone deep feeling that left him hugely on edge. Tubbo glanced over at his best friend and knew the same could be said for him, because Tommy looked vaguely ill. But after a harsh elbow jab from the brunet the blond seemed to snap into the present and stuttered,
“I was-uh, y’see I was only.. kidding. Yeah! Kidding! What I really meant was can I please have some more??” 
Your frown twitched before turning into a wry smile. You huffed out a chuckle that made both boys' anxieties fade. Their bodies seemed to deflate from how tense they’d been before as you handed over the full bowl in your hand to him and said while you ruffled his hay colored hair, 
“Nice save kiddo, because if you’d have been smarting off for real I’d have been pretty irked. Thankfully it was only a joke~”
Tommy gave a relieved chuckle before he shamelessly gobbled down his new bowl of stew, seemingly back to normal now that you didn’t seem upset at him anymore. You mentally shook your head, he was such a kid it was pretty funny. But then you turned your gaze to Tubbo and held your hand out for his bowl, which he happily handed over with a shy ‘thank you!’ that made you smile. Soon they were both digging in all over again. Only this time you joined them, positively delighted with how this new stew had turned out. After eating you’d even offered them some iced tea you’d made. And this had started a whole Thing with the two British boys.
They’d argued that iced tea was an abomination and hot tea was the only right way to do tea. You’d rolled your eyes and asked if they’d ever even TRIED iced tea before. That got Tubbo to sorta stutter before falling silent but Tommy, ever the hard headed one, just plowed on and said he didn’t NEED to try it to know it wasn’t good. You gave him a Look and shook your head before convincing them to just try it and if they didn’t like it then they could dump it out. After some back and forth they caved and tried it, and lo and behold they both enjoyed it. The crisp drink was perfect for warm weather, unlike hot tea. But even after begrudgingly admitting it wasn’t ‘total shit’ Tommy refused to admit he liked it better than ‘proper tea’. You took this all as a win regardless.
-0-
You’d spent the majority of the day with the two young boys, just showing them around and feeding them and goofing off. You’d forgotten how fun it was to interact with people like this. To have actual conversation that wasn’t just ‘hms’ and ‘hngs’ like with the Villagers. You still loved the villagers, they were good folks but you’d missed talking with people normally. Which is why you were understandably bummed out when you saw the sun was getting dangerously close to the horizon. But you knew being out after dark wasn’t wise for regular people. You even brought it up to the two boys, not wanting them to have to face any hostile mobs on their way home. They reassured you they’d be fine, they’ve got good gear and enchanted weapons, but you still worried.
Though instead of letting it get to you and ruining the rest of the evening you instead packed the two boys some food to go. You put the rest of the stew into bowls and served up a couple more glasses of iced tea before gifting them to them, making sure they each got an equal share. Tubbo tried to politely say you didn’t have to give them anything while Tommy just let out a ‘whoop!’ and shoved his share into his inventory with a wide grin. That helped Tubbo accept his too without any more shyness. Soon they were all packed up and ready to go home, wherever that was.
But before they headed off Tubbo asked if they could come back, with Tommy perking up at the question, clearly wanting to know your answer too. With a smile you said of course they could come back to visit you and your village. You’d be delighted to host them again! Even if your first impression of them wasn’t that nice. You chuckled when Tommy had the decency to at least look somewhat sheepish. But your smile wasn’t upset and let them know you were only teasing, and it was water under the bridge. 
“I look forward to you two coming back again! Maybe you can help me out around the village and in return I can pay you or maybe make you both more food-”
Tommy and Tubbo cut you off by almost yelling out in unison, “FOOD!” which made you laugh out loud. You held up a hand in mock surrender and agreed to make them more food the next time they stopped by. The pair looked excited and waved before picking the berries from the bushes surrounding your village (so they wouldn’t take damage from the thorns) and hurried through them. You waved goodbye in return then took some bone meal out to help the bushes grow back before heading back home. 
You had a great day, and weren’t lying when you said you couldn’t wait for the two to come back.
-0-
Tommy and Tubbo made it back to L’manburg without too much fuss, only having to kill a few zombies and skeletons along the way. Though by the time they got back it was very much after dark and everyone had settled in for the night to avoid the hostile mobs. So the two boys didn’t bother checking in with anyone since it was already late and they were tired from the journey back. But to their surprise Wilbur was waiting up for them in the kitchen, sipping some tea and working on some papers.
“Oi, you two are back late. Run into trouble or somethin’?” Wilbur asked with a wry grin. 
And that released the floodgates of the two teen boys unloading everything that’d happened that day. From finding the village to accidentally fighting an iron golem, to meeting YOU! And everything else after. Wilbur listened with wide eyes, surprised to hear them talk about meeting a new person, a stranger outside of a country/city place that they knew of. One that apparently took over a village? Weird. 
But L’manburg could always use more allies. 
Maybe he should go pay you a visit too.
-----------------
@salinesoot​ @lady-bee-fechin​ @kacchasu​ @putridjoy​ @lunawritesstories​ @galaxypankitty3030​ @paradigmax​ @zachariethememerie​ @killmewithafanfic @trinity-1002107 @hufflepuff-demigod @truthdaze @exorcisms-with-elmo @redbloodtea @heythereimhaylz @olyink @jackalopedoodles @nikkineeky @artsimatsu @hufflepuff-demigod
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chaotic-noceur · 3 years
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with a thousand stars in the sky, why did you choose me?
pairing: Sukuna x asexual!Reader (sex-repulsed leaning)
summary: because sometimes, you just need someone else to tell you that asexuals deserve love too
warnings: hurt/comfort, discussions of sex and asexuality, mentions of sex, soft sukuna, insecurity, reader cries at some point, sex-repulsed ace centric cuz that’s the way I lean.. sorry 😓
a/n: I’m really hesitant to post this cuz I don't wanna exclude sex-positive aces cuz they’re valid too but also, there’s a maybe 2% chance that someone needs this so I guess I’m hurling this into the tumblr void and seeing what happens?
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Asexuality is a subtle thing. There’s nothing in the way you hold yourself that gives away your identity. There’s nothing in the way you dress that boxes you into a stereotype. There’s nothing in your actions that immediately earns you a label — regardless of its legitimacy.
Asexuality is a subtle thing. And you experience its weight in subtle ways.
You feel it in the way media sells the appeal of sex. A subtle mockery of your unimportance. You see it in the way society instils the necessity of sex. A subtle affirmation of your inadequacy. You read it in the way that strangers declare their desires. A subtle reminder that you will never fulfil them.
Sukuna is many things — grumpy, hot tempered, even arrogant at times; but he's also observant, especially when it comes to you. He notices the tightness of your grip when you hold onto him, as if begging him to stay. He notices the sorrow in your eyes, as if conveying a silent apology. He notices all the little changes, but he says nothing. He says nothing because he doesn’t know what to do, and it’s easier to claim ignorance than admit ineptitude. He says nothing because he doesn't know where the conversation will lead, and he doesn't know what he'll do if he loses you.
So Sukuna sits, and he watches. He watches and he waits. He waits for the dam to break, for the hurricane of emotions to make landfall, and for the mask to shatter.
Thunder rumbles in the distance when the needle finally drops, piercing his heart in it's landing.
"Why did you choose me?" Your voice is muffled against his chest, but it doesn't hide the uncertainty in your tone, nor the tenseness of your shoulders. Sukuna draws patterns against your spine in an effort to calm your nerves, or his — he isn’t sure.
His brows furrow and he lifts his head slightly to look down at you, letting out a "hmm?" as he does.
You push off his chest then, gaze falling to your lap as his hand slips from your back. "It's just that... I can't give you what you wan-" you swallow the lump in your throat before repeating, "I can never give you what you need. I -" Sukuna moves to protest but you cut him off. “No, don’t try and tell me that you don’t want sex. I’m not stupid Sukuna, I know you’re not...” broken, is what you don’t say as you gesture to yourself. “But there are so many people out there who wouldn’t even think twice before agreeing to sleep with you and yet..."
As the pieces fall into place, Sukuna resists the urge to growl at your logic. He had known what being in a relationship with you meant when he had agreed to be with you — asexuality and all. He never expected anything from you that you weren't comfortable with offering and he was prepared to take care of himself whenever the need arose. He had told you as much too. But it would seem that you need a reminder that his love for you stemmed beyond a physical desire.
How should he tell you that his world gets a little brighter every time you smile at him? That his heart a little lighter every time he hears you laugh, especially when it's because of him? That the hole you'd carved into his defences get a little bigger every time you tell him you love him; and every time that you don't but your actions say it for you? How should he tell you that he doesn't think he truly knew what love meant until he fell in love with you?
Instinctively, Sukuna wants to smother the firestorm of emotions that had engulfed him. But with a look at your expression, he knows that you need something concrete right now — something you can remember, something you can replay in your mind when you need it, something you don't need to decipher.
Sukuna sighs before sitting himself upright. He takes your hand in his, holding on lightly enough that you can pull away if you wish. You do not. "Because," he begins as his other hand comes to rest under your chin, tugging your gaze up to meet his, "despite what everyone else says, love isn't always about sex. Because you love me for me, and not because of my muscles."
You huff out chuckle and Sukuna tugs on your interlocked hands to pull you a little closer, dreading the space that had formed between the pair of you. "Because," he breathes as he runs this thumb over your knuckles, "I didn't know what it felt like to be chosen until I met you. Because..." Sukuna wishes now that he was better at words, but Yuuji was always the talker. "Because you wake up everyday and love all the parts of me that I had grown to hate and remind me why they’re worth loving." Your lips pull into a shy smile then and Sukuna swipes at the tear that rolls down your cheek.
"Well, someone has to." Sukuna rolls his eyes before pulling you into his chest. He gives you a minute to settle into a comfortable position before securing his arm around your waist.
“I love you, stupid,” he mumbles as he presses a kiss to your temple, "and I'm not leaving any time soon."
pls lemme know if i made mistakes!
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arhvste · 3 years
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❝ YOU WANT THIS! ❞
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— iwaizumi hajime x reader
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— an: based off of ‘be honest’ by jorja smith because she’s sexy
— dt: megan thee stallion because it’s her birthday and i have nothing else to offer to my queen right now </3 so here megan, you might like iwa if you ever watch hq
— warnings: suggestive content [not explicit nsfw but it is still suggestive]
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“i know you want me”
iwaizumi kept his distance as he watched you softly sing to yourself, emptying the remaining clean crockery remaining in the dishwasher. he had intended to help you, but seeing you like this always caught him off guard.
forever in your own element, unaware of what was lurking past your direct vision, you paid no mind as your boyfriend leaned against the sturdy door frame, eyes never once tearing away from your body.
“every day, not only when you're lonely, yeah”
your body moved so naturally around the kitchen, every drawer and location for every utensil memorised like the back of your hand. not once did anything interrupt your flow. hands grabbing and tossing things to where they should be, iwaizumi watched as music from the speaker dominated the atmosphere.
“you see, you think you know me”
had the dishwasher not been open, anyone could have mistaken your kitchen activities as a private show for anyone who happened to be watching rather than just chore.
your hips moved on beat to the song as a mischievous twinkle glinted under the dimmed kitchen lights, your silhouette seductively moving identically to your own body; you were simply alluring to watch.
“but you don't even know nothing about me, yeah”
the lyrics strung out your lips as you finished up with the plates and utensils. your boyfriends old aoba johsai jersey adorning your frame and his grey calvin kleins fitting your waist and thighs, iwaizumi bit his bottom lip at the tempting sight of you in his clothes in your shared apartment.
he’d well and truly claimed you and he had every intention to reinforce that fact at this very moment as he stood up properly and quietly wandered over.
“you see my, thick thighs”
you jolted at the new presence behind you. well sculpted chest pressed up against your back and calloused hands secure around your waist. iwaizumi grunted as he felt you tense up however, that was only momentarily. the second his hand dipped down to graze over your thighs, you felt at ease once more.
whenever you found yourself so close in his touch, a wave of security and and relief crashed over you, he was the only man capable of holding you in such a way, both physically and mentally, iwaizumi hajime had truly made you his.
“lost when you look into my brown eyes”
tilting your head up, iwaizumi brought his hand up as he dragged his fingers along the bottom of your jaw demanding your eyes to interlock with his. that once mischievous twinkle in your eyes now gone, but replaced with a strong desire with tints of lust scattered scarcely in your gaze. iwaizumi’s own stare holding a strong dominance and want for you.
you read each other like your own favourite books as you relished in the feeling of the pads of his fingers running up and down your neck and jaw before finally letting you drop your head back down.
“see, my little waist can make you switch sides”
his previously free hand retreating back to your hips, thumb circling the side of your upper thigh, he cleared his throat slightly at the feeling of your waist backing up dangerously against his own. you were testing the waters before entering risky territory you knew you wouldn't be able to leave and iwaizumi was slowly, but surely growing slightly impatient at your little game.
“you never know the devil in a disguise, so why don't you stand up, baby, and”
you hummed as your boyfriend ran his hands up and down your sides, body swaying in time with yours as his fingers reached up the fabric of the aqua material. the sides of your torso growing warm under his touch, you pulled away out of his touch slightly in means to provoke him and of course he never failed to notice this behaviour.
“tell me, tell me, tell me do you want me on top?”
iwaizumi pulled you back as close as he could into him as you airly laughed at his rough play with you. his hands gripping your hips and you swayed them in time, he encouraged your movements as you threw your head back and flashed him a playful grin before dropping your head back down.
“so let me show you, show you, show you, i don't need to back it up”
your playful smile still tugging at your lips, you purposely dropped down slightly to press up against where you knew your boyfriend was most sensitive. he clicked his tongue at your misbehaviour as his fingers hooked under the white trimming of his boxers that you were currently modelling for him and him alone.
“don't wanna hold you, mould you, scold you, split you in half with my heart”
his thumbs teasing your skin above the waistband as his fingers teased the skin under the grey material, he smirked as he had you exactly where he wanted you. you gasped as he teasingly tugged at the waistband slightly before you brushed his hand away in attempts of scolding him despite the fact butterflies in your stomach countered your intentions.
“i just wanna love on you, trust in you, honour you, please, do the same on your part”
paying no mind to your ‘telling off’, iwaizumi let his hands find their way back up the jersey again sending shivers up and down your body. lips pressed up against your ear, he permitted his hot breath to fan against the shell of your ear as you whined unsure of whether you wanted him to stop or continue.
that didn’t matter anyway, he was going to make that decision for you.
“be honest, you want this”
the athletics trainer muttered along, his words only loud enough for your ears to catch. hand dipping out the jersey, he brought it back up and let his fingers dance along the base of your neck where the material refused to cover. dragging his fingers up once more, he hooked his fingers under your jaw as he guided your head up allowing him more access to your neck as he hummed in praise for your obligation.
“but i can be heartless, regardless of my conscience”
licking his lips, iwaizumi took advantage of the acces you had granted him as he proceeded to press kisses along your neck and jaw as you continued to sway your hips against him, your own hand reaching up to his neck as he marked the territory he demanded was his.
“be honest, you want this”
your breathing now short and shallow as you felt yourself grow excited at his faint possessiveness over you.
his claim over you always so rough and present, but never once overbearing or concerning. he had taken you so abruptly, but not to the point where you didn’t like it. no, you quite liked his strong desire for you to be his and his alone. it felt satisfying know he wanted you as much as you wanted him, the two of you holding an equal balance of both love and lust for one another.
“but i can be heartless, regardless of my conscience”
iwaizumi pulled away and admired the now painted canvas of your skin. a new masterpiece to memorise along with the countless others he had previously painted on your skin as well as the countless others to come.
now sick of the lack of skin-to-skin contact, iwaizumi pulled your waist towards him as he guided you to your shared bedroom, dim city lights from below the apartment windows calling you both in for another night of intimacy.
“w-wait let me turn off the speaker-” you protested but was cut of by a soft pinch left on the side of your hip from your impatient boyfriend.
“leave it on, i like it.” he tutted as your eyes widened before you nodded allowing him to take over the way he liked.
the second you entered the bedroom, the door was kicked shut but not to the point where the song that had caused this event was drowned out.
despite the fact your mind was currently scattered and you only had clear thoughts of your boyfriend and your own selfish desires, at that very moment, you had decided that just maybe doing your chores in your boyfriend's clothes later at night in the future was a clever move.
especially if this was going to be the outcome.
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general taglist → @atsumuwoah @bloody-bella @bbymilkbread @miracleboy420 @doggonudezz @tsumue @peteunderoos @tsukkisbean @saturnfarie @dear-kozume @zumisace @boosyboo9206 @totorosleaff @27kei @dai-tsukki-desu @crescenttooru @kuxredere @warakou @iss6s @lovinnoya @sophiashortcake @wompwomphq @waitforitillwritemywayout @webworld @brokeasshoee @sunasbabie @rowley-with-ackerman @mjoork @trifliz @curiouslilbeast @ineedsomefoodpls @hp-hogwartsexpress @ghostexhibit @kenmacorps @vhskenma @lollypop-lam @cultsumu
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lumini-317 · 3 years
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Hello!
This will be my official “introductory” post!
My real name is Erica, but I go by many names. My nickname repertoire includes but is not limited to: Lumi, Lumini, Cricket (I have a habit of rubbing my feet together, lmao), Jinx, Eri, Er, EriJoy, Sunbaeby, and Aceir (my real name but in alphabetical order).
This is my first ever Tumblr blog. I’ve had it for a while but have rarely posted anything, that along with the fact that I’m on mobile is kind of a mess so I apologize for mistakes and all that.
I have 3 older brothers, an older sister, and a younger brother.
I’m an ambivert. Sometimes I love hanging out with bigger groups of people, other times I dread it.
I’ve taken the “16personalities” test 4 times and all 4 put me in the “Diplomat” category, however I got “Advocate” (INFJ) 2 times, and “Protagonist” (ENFJ) and “Mediator” (INFP) 1 time each.
I am LGBTQ+. I’m asexual, aro+panromantic flux, and while I feel like I’m genderfluid, the changes are very subtle and so I sometimes just go with agender, gendervoid, or neutrois. It’s a lot less complicated that way. I’m ambiamorous, and also pronoun apathetic!
I love whump. I’ve loved it for as long as I can remember but only found the whump community maybe 3(?) years ago.
I also love K-Pop, C-Pop, J-Pop, and Asian dramas, mainly K-Pop and K-Dramas, though.
I’m a HUGE multistan. ATEEZ, SKZ, TBZ, EXO, BTS, Red Velvet, SHINee, iKON, MONSTA X, TWICE, TO1, WANNA ONE, SuperM, X1, MIRAE, Ciipher, Golden Child, Purple Kiss, BAE173, SF9, IU, ONEUS, ONEWE, The Rose, PIXY, LUCY, STAYC, WEi (which I pronounced as “way” for an embarrassingly long time), Dreamcatcher, Brave Girls, TXT, ENHYPEN, SNSD, KARD, AKMU, SHAUN, Gaho, NCT, GHOST9, 1team, SE7EN, Cross Gene, D1ce, AB6IX, CRAVITY, BLACKPINK, CIX, VIXX, f(x), 4Minute, CLC, YEZI, B.I, Wonho, (G)I-DLE, EVERGLOW, SEVENTEEN, BROOKLYN, Ha Hyunsang, DAY6, GOT7, Teen Top, BAP, TREASURE, UNIQ, etc! It goes on, far longer than I can list. I am also very much against fanwars, they disgust me.
I’m also a HUGE animal lover, and a big softie. I can’t even squish insects. I don’t care that they can’t feel pain and don’t experience emotions, I just can’t bring myself to. I make it my mission to save any type of animal I come across. I find toads in our koi pond and immediately pick them out and take them to a safe place. I help turtles across the road. I got a mouse out of a puddle and revived it, releasing it when it was healthy enough. I saw a snail on a piece of wood that was going to be thrown on a fire and carefully pulled it off and put it somewhere else. So far I’ve found 5 stray cats (Piper, Toothless, Felix, Kai, and Kit Kat—all were found as skinny, sickly kittens) and took them in, raising them as my own. I rescued a chipmunk from certain death-by-cat. I’ve even saved a few baby raccoons, ducklings, lizards, spiders, and snakes in my time. And I’ll keep doing so for as long as I live.
I love writing, drawing/sketching, and painting, however I’m not confident that I’m good at any of those things, lmao. I mean, I don’t think I’m the worst, but my finished “works” often leave me unsatisfied with my “skills”. But of course, that won’t stop me from trying to improve!
I’m a maladaptive daydreamer. This can cause issues in some places while helping me out in others. On one hand, it makes doing chores and such kind of difficult. Like one time I had to take care of my dad’s pigeons while he was fixing our shed and one time he pointed out how slow I was with the chores. His words were something along the lines of, “I’m already almost done with what I have to do and you’re still working with the pigeons.” Also, it (and maybe ADHD if I do have it?) made school a nightmare for me. But it’s also helpful because then during church it’s really easy to keep myself occupied while the pastors go on about their Magical Sky Daddy™’s son throwing a tantrum and killing a figtree because it didn’t have any figs and how that story should “challenge” us or something.
The characters in my daydreams are weird, though. They merge and separate with each other to make different characters depending on the situation. Most of them don’t have definite genders. Only a handful of them have names because they’re always merging and separating like some kind of Shadow Clone Masters or something. Stuff like that.
One of my characters is for sure a demi-boy, though, and his name is Kyler.
I brought this up because I was watching The Andy Griffith Show and Andy was giving Opie a lecture on how many poor kids there are in the world and used the ratio “one and a half boys per square mile”. Opie then says that he’s “never seen a half a boy before”. Kyler just sort of pops into (fake) existence, jumps off the couch, and throws his arms in the air while saying, “Half a boy, right here!” I burst out laughing. Thankfully it didn’t seem weird, since my parents started laughing at Opie and thought that I was just laughing at it, too.
Any-who.
If I daydream while I’m standing, I’ll often pace and gesture with my arms while moving my lips. Sometimes I’ll even whisper. If I’m sitting down, I usually fidget a lot (such as pick at my shirt and rub my feet together), stare into space, and move my lips or whisper. My family sometimes ask me, “Why are you whispering?” Or, “What are you grinning about?” And I just shrug because I don’t know how to explain it to them without risking them calling someone to pray over me, lmao. I mean, I wasn’t even allowed to have imaginary friends because that was “evil”. When I was about 7, I told my parents about my imaginary unicorn friend and they gave me a lecture and “prayed over me”. It was embarrassing and awkward for me.
I’m suspicious that I might have ADHD, but don’t have the money to actually get a professional diagnosis. I’m also too scared to ask my parents about it.
Speaking of which, my family and I don’t see eye-to-eye. I mean, they don’t know it because I’m good at hiding it, and they think I agree with mostly everything they do but boy, is it a mess.
You see, they’re evangelical conservative Christians. “LGBTQ+ people are going to hell”, “ThE LeFt ARe eViL AnD ARe TrYiNg To BrAiNwAsh OuR ChiLdrEn”, “Trump was sent by God”, “Intersex is fake”, “Women must submit to men”, “You should get married no later than in a year or ‘the temptation’ to have sex might become too much”, the whole bit.
Meanwhile I’m over here with my (imaginary) pride flags, just existing as an agnostic leftist who wants everyone to have equal rights, regardless of gender identity or sexual orientation, and would rather redo my horrifically atrocious kindergarten closing program role than pray to a god who (if they/he/she/it/whatever exists) gives cancer to kids and killed millions of innocent animals and people in the Bible.
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But they have no idea that this is how I feel and now expect me to be baptized within the next month to show that I have “accepted Jesus Christ as my savior”. Yeah...that’s gonna be an awkward discussion...
Anyway, that’s just some things about me. Sorry that I got sidetracked a few times, lmao!
I look forward to posting more and maybe even making friends!
Thank you for reading (:
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dameronology · 3 years
Text
tea & whiskey {jack daniels x reader} - 1
part one: an insight into how microwaving tea should be a capital crime (fem! reader) 
song for this chapter - ldn by lily allen
summary: you’re Percival; reigning queen of the Kingsman, certified bad-ass and one of the most self-sufficient women to have ever graced the City of London. A mission with the Statesmen is a chance to further your career and tighten your grip on international success - it’s a shame that Jack Daniels already has his eyes on the throne. He also has his eyes on you, and it proves to be a problem for you both. {series masterlist}
this has all the kingsman characters but doesn’t follow the canon of golden circle. eggsy, tequila, champ, merlin etc all crop up throughout the series as well! if u want to be tagged, gimme a shout 
- jazz
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You didn’t usually answer the door when someone knocked after 11PM. 
It was just common sense, really. Only serial killers, creeps and people who had the wrong address would knock that late. You could have taken on any of those three regardless - you were a bad-ass after all - but you were also busy. You’d been tirelessly working all day at the office, and the grind didn’t stop just because you’d got home. The stack of paperwork beside your computer felt like it was never ending and you simply didn’t have the time to answer the door. Working as Kingsman was more of a lifestyle than it was a job.
‘Oi!’
You almost jumped out your seat when the banging moved to the window beside your desk. It overlooked your front lawn and the quiet street you lived on - well, as quiet as a street in central London could be. Classic to the city, rain was lashing down on the glass, obscuring your view of whoever your visitor was. 
Right, you could add Eggsy Unwin to the list of people who knocked this late. 
‘What the hell, Eggsy?!’ You sighed, opening the front door. Your colleague quickly rushed from where he was standing by the window, elbowing past you and into the dry warmth of your house. ‘It’s almost midnight-’
‘- I’ve been calling you for hours!’ The agent exclaimed. 
‘I’ve been working all day.’ You replied. 
It wasn’t the first time he’d turned up at your doorstep at a stupid hour. Eggsy was your colleague, but first and foremost, he was your best friend. He had a tendency to drive you up the fucking wall and right back down again, and had done since you were in your school years, but he’d always been a little dependent on you. Whether it had been letting him crash on your sofa when his stepfather became too much, or giving him a lift home from the police station at 2AM after he’d been arrested, you always had his back. He had yours too, but you rarely needed it. Even after becoming a member of the Kingsman and essentially saving the world, you were still the first person he came too. 
After wrapping Eggsy up in a towel and escorting him to the kitchen, you placed a mug of warm tea on the table and sat beside him. Work could wait - for an hour or so at least. Chasing an internationally-reclaimed terrorist certainly took precedence over whatever your friend’s problems were, but if he needed you, he needed you. Bros before hoes might not have been the perfect saying for the situation, but the sentiment was definitely there. 
‘What’s happened now?’ You quirked an eyebrow. ‘I know it ain’t an arrest because you would have called from the station otherwise.’
Eggsy thinned his eyes at you. ‘I haven’t been arrested in two years.’
‘So what was it?’
‘I had a fight with Tilde.’ He admitted. ‘I don’t know what happened, but she’s mad at me.’
‘Were you talking before she got mad?’
‘Yeah.’
You raised your mug in the air. ‘That’s probably it then.’
‘Y/N!’ He swatted your hand away, causing tea to spill out onto the table. 
You sighed. ‘D’you wanna talk about it?’
‘No, I just need a place to crash.’
You stood up, leaning over the table to give his shoulder a squeeze. ‘You know where the spare room is, right?’
‘That’s it?’ He pouted. ‘Tea and a squeeze on the shoulder? My life is falling apart!’
‘Don’t be a drama queen.’ You replied. ‘I have to work - and you should be too. We’re close to getting Calahan.’
Calahan was the codename for the terrorist you’d been tracking - at least his current one. The man had worked under several aliases, jumping from country to country before finally falling under the jurisdiction of the British secret services. The MI5 and Scotland Yard were too well known to work such a sensitive case; the location of their offices were publicly known, making it easier for Calahan to slip in double agents. The civilians, however, had no knowledge on the Kingsmen. A tailor’s shop was a perfectly good front for a place to set up base and track the man down. 
Thanks to your success on your previous missions, Arthur had put you in charge of finding him, with Eggsy assigned as your partner. He was just as good an agent as you, but you had little sympathy for his domestic issues. 
‘I was working on it all day.’ Eggsy held his hands up in surrender. ‘But with all due respect, Percival, I don’t work into the late hours of the night. I know how to switch off.’
‘That’s because you’re a man, Eggsy.’ You reminded him. ‘I am one of three women at Kingsman.’
‘That’s still three more than there used to be.’ 
‘You’ve already pissed off one extremely patient woman tonight.’ You warned him, referring to Tilde. ‘Do you want to go two for two?’
‘No.’ He huffed. ‘Women are just complicated.’
‘Or maybe men are just dumb.’ You smiled sweetly, before brushing a hand through his hair. ‘You should get some rest.’
‘So should you.’
‘I’m fine.’ You shook your head. ‘I’ve got a meeting with Merlin in the morning. We’ll have to leave at eight.’
‘Do I have to go? Merlin hasn’t said anything to me-’
‘- yes.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I said so.’
He couldn’t argue with that. 
--
The following morning, you were headed for the Kingsman headquarters by 9AM. Having filled Eggsy with some coffee and half a bacon-sandwich, he had cheered up considerably. You did feel for him - he had been right when he said that women were confusing - but your attention was still very much on work. That was the norm, really. You lived and breathed for your job. It wasn’t your whole identity but it was certainly your whole life. You were recruited at eighteen and now, it was all you knew. The other agents were your family. 
‘C’mon, Eggsy!’ You demanded, practically leaping out your car. Your arms were piled high with files, keys dangling from your fingers as you kicked the door to the Mustang shut. It had been a present from Kingsmen for a particularly successful mission. 
‘There’s no rush.’ Eggsy chided from behind you. ‘You should enjoy a little leisurely stroll once in a while. It might do that vein on your forehead some good.’ 
Whilst you were decked out in a blazer and black jeans, Eggsy was in his usual snapback and sports jacket. He trailed beside you, hands stuffed in his pockets as you both slipped inside the shop. It was quiet inside, the only sounds coming from the bell on the door and the sound of your heels on the polished wooden floors. You didn’t just wear them because they made your legs look endless - they doubled up as weapons too. Merlin hadn’t done anything special to them, it was just that anything was a blade if you tried hard enough. Your five inch Christian Louboutins were no different. The fact the bottoms were already red was purely a convenient coincidence. 
‘She still hasn’t called me.’ Eggsy murmured. 
‘I’m sure she will.’ You gave his arm a light squeeze. ‘Tilde loves you, Egghead.’ 
‘Fucking ‘ell.’ He let out a snort. ‘You haven’t called me that in years.’
The two of you made your way down the hall and towards the meeting room. Merlin was already sitting at the table, pens and notepads laid out in front of him. Considering that you’d worked together for years, you hardly knew the man. He was always working, always building new gadgets or arranging missions. Did he ever sleep? You wouldn’t have been surprised if it turned out that he’d been a droid this whole time. Someone had mentioned his name being Hamish once, but he didn’t seem like a Hamish. You always pegged him as more of a...Simon. Or a Mark. 
‘You two are late.’ He greeted you. 
‘It’s nine o’clock.’ You shot back, dropping into the seat opposite him. 
‘Early is on time.’ Merlin folded his arms across his chest. ‘On time is late.’
You rolled your eyes at the agent. ‘You know how London traffic can be.’
Choosing to ignore your comment, the Scotsman hit a few buttons on the table in front of him. The whiteboard in front of you jumped to life, lighting up with a picture of New York City - specifically, Midtown. You’d been to the city several times for work, usually to do recon or on protection details for British politicians before diplomatic visits. Outside of that, any missions in North America were outside of the Kingmen’s authority. That was when it fell to the USA’s secret services - a bunch of people you weren’t particularly fond of working with. 
‘Calahan slipped out of the country.’ Merlin stated. ‘He’s been spotted in Manhattan by several of our contacts at the Bureau.’ 
‘What?!’ You guffawed. ‘I thought we had tabs on him. You told me we had tabs on him-’
‘- let me finish, Percival.’ He cut you off. ‘We let him.’
‘You…’ you scoffed in disbelief. ‘You let a known terrorist escape the borders?! You know that I’ve had tabs on him for months! Are you trying to waste my time?’
‘Calm down, agent!’ Merlin repeated, this time in a more firm tone. It was easy to let your temper get the best of you - but at the same time, it was the very thing that had allowed you to force your colleagues into submission. ‘He has more charges on his back in American jurisdiction. We have a better chance of convicting him over there.’
‘You could have told me that before I spent six months tailing him.’ You dropped back in your chair, folding your arms tightly across your chest. 
‘Your mission isn’t over.’ Merlin replied. ‘You know more about Calahan than any men here or across the pond. I want you posted in New York for a few months.’
‘Oh?’ You sat up, interest peaked. 
Working internationally was usually the first step to becoming a senior agent. It was one thing to commandeer the respect of your colleagues but to throw your name into the ring on a global scale? That was how you made it big time - and big time meant big time. Your work would go from being based in London, to taking you all over the world. Kingsman who worked on an international level could be in Moscow one day and Bogota the next. Once they retired, they were legends. It was the kind of success you’d dreamed of your whole life.
And New York was the first stepping stone. 
‘It’s only if you want it, of course.’ Merlin pulled you from your thoughts. ‘The Statesman have agreed to accommodate you, should you choose to accept.’
‘Statesmen?’ You tried to hide the displeasement in your face. ‘Like...the cowboys?’
‘Is there a problem, Percival?’
‘No!’ You quickly replied. ‘It’s just...I worked with one of them once. It wasn’t great.’
‘Here we go.’ Eggsy murmured from beside you. ‘She witnessed Agent Tequila make tea in the microwave.’
‘And I swore never to work with them again.’ You hissed under your breath, fists clenching.
‘I can see how that would be disturbing.’ Merlin agreed. ‘Though I’m not entirely sure it’s enough reason to turn down a potentially career changing mission.’
‘No, you’re right.’ You nodded. ‘But I can bring my own kettle, right?’
--
‘I can’t believe you brought your own fucking kettle.’
‘And I can’t believe that Merlin is making me drag you along-’
‘- it’s only for a week.’ Eggsy held his hands up in defense.
Eggsy, who had momentarily forgotten his relationship woes, had been posted out in the city with you for the first five or six days. Merlin and Arthur had been pretty insistent on him joining you - something about making sure you didn’t blow your lid at a cowboy. It was funny, because you were usually the one babysitting him. That being said, deep down you were glad to have him there with you. It would have made settling in a little easier. 
You were moving faster than him, the sound of your heels clicking on the marble floors of the Statesman headquarters as you floated towards the front desk. The building was right in central Manhattan, bang in the middle of all the beautiful things New York had to offer. Not that you were going to experience many of them - you were here to work, after all. 
‘Percival!’ Agent Tequila was posted by the front desk, a grin spread across his face as your eyes met. ‘And...I know they told me your name, but I’ve forgotten.’
‘He’s Galahad 2.0.’ You stuck your hand out to Tequila, offering him the kettle. ‘This is for you.’
‘A...a kettle?’ The agent gave you an odd look. 
‘If I’m going to be working with you for the next few months, I cannot witness you making tea in a microwave.’ You explained. ‘I may murder you in your sleep otherwise.’
‘Jeez, lady.’ He muttered. He would have argued, but if there was one thing he’d learnt from your last collaboration, it was that nobody entered into a fight with you and won. ‘But it’s okay, you’re not with me this time.’
‘Oh?’ You quirked an eyebrow. Tequila began to make his way to the lift, signalling for you and Eggsy to follow. 
‘No, you’re with Whiskey this time.’ He explained, pressing the button for the top floor. ‘He’s a little more senior than me.’
‘Whiskey and Tequila?’ Eggsy muttered in your ear. ‘What’s their boss called? Pale ale?’
‘Champagne.’ You replied. 
‘Good one.’ He snorted.
‘No, Eggsy.’ You whispered back. ‘He’s actually called Champagne.’
‘Fucking hell.’ 
Yeah, you thought, that kinda sums it up.
The three of you stepped out the lift and onto the top floor. The views from the windows were almost breath-taking; it wasn’t often that you got to see 360 degree views of one of the most beautiful cities in the world. The skyscrapers stretched out further than the eye could see, eventually melting together in the distance where the sky met the land. It was almost breath-taking just to think about - the people, the opportunities, the magic that New York had to offer. London was your home, and you couldn’t even begin to dream of leaving, but your mind did wander off a little. 
‘Whiskey! I got your girl!’ Tequila yelled, pressing a button on an intercom outside one of the offices. He gave Eggsy a quick glance. . ‘And...the other one.’
‘Sweet Jesus, Tequila!’ A strong Southern accent came back. ‘You don’t gotta yell every time you use the fucking thing! I’m gonna be deaf as a goddamn doornail before I’m fifty.’
A moment later, the door to the office opened and Agent Whiskey stepped out. He was about the same height as Tequila, but a little older. He was wearing a cow-boy hat and there was a...was it a swagger? A spring in his step? Either way, the temptation to stick your foot out and stop him in his tracks was overwhelming. 
‘Well hello, pretty lady.’ Whiskey greeted you with a shit-eating grin. ‘I hear that you’re the little birdy who’s gonna give me Calahan?’
‘I prefer Percival.’ You monotonously replied. ‘And if I’m the little birdy that’s gonna give you Calahan, then you must be the yankee who stole him from me.’
‘Girl’s gotta bite.’ He gave your hand a shake. ‘I like that.’
‘This is Galahad.’ You pointed to Eggsy, who was inwardly holding his breath at the whole exchange. He was mentally counting down the minutes before you smacked off Whiskey’s cowboy hat. ‘Let’s see if you can acknowledge his gender three times in one breath-’
‘- okay, that’ll do!’ Your best friend pulled you back, taking Whiskey’s hand in place of yours. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Whiskey.’
‘Please, call me Jack.’ The cowboy replied. 
‘Whiskey. Jack.’ Eggsy murmured under his breath. ‘Oh my days! Imagine if your surname was Daniels.’
After a brief conversation with Jack about his surname - during which you had seen Eggsy Unwin more entertained than ever before - you were taken down the hall to the agent’s office. Meanwhile, Eggsy and Tequila were escorted off to exchange some files that you’d both gathered. 
Whiskey’s office was exactly as you could have predicted; a mixture of dark wood furniture and red tones. The air smelt of his aftershave, with a hint of brandy and earth.
‘Your desk is that one there.’ Whiskey gestured to a slightly smaller set-up in the corner. 
‘I don’t get my own office?’
‘Since we’re gonna be working in close proximity, Champ figured it was best we double up.’ He explained. ‘Saves us doing a whole revolving door movement when we gotta talk to one another.’
‘Makes sense.’ You placed your bag on the desk, admiring the view for a moment. All of your files on Calahan had been uploaded to the Statesmen’s online cloud, whilst your other belongings had been delivered to the apartment you were staying in. ‘Nice view.’
‘It ain’t bad.’ Whiskey nodded. ‘You been to this neck of the woods before?’ 
‘Only when British diplomats need a babysitter.’ You replied.
‘Babysitting?’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘That’s what you Kingsmen do? You babysit?’
‘Why d’you think Eggsy is here?’ You shot back. ‘To babysit me.’
‘Now why would a well-mannered redcoat such as yourself need a babysitter?’ He could barely hide the grin in his voice, leaning back against the window as he peered at you over his glasses.
‘How would I put it in your terms?’ You pondered for a moment, offering Whiskey a sweet smile. ‘Is there a Southern term for I eat cowboys alive?’ 
He gulped. ‘I...I don’t think we got one for that yet.’ 
You nodded, turning your attention back to staring at the view in front of you. ‘You should come up with one. It might be useful.’ 
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posi-pan · 3 years
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Long ask and a vent, so I'm sorry in advance:
Saw a post that said something like "this post is about bi people. Don't derail"
Which is.... fair, I think? I don't wanna overstep bi posts as a pan person. But, getting a bad feeling, I looked at OP's blog and.... yeah, OP is panphobic, and makes fun of pan people for being hurt by panphobia, for starters. Furthermore:
They reblogged a post which sites the bi manifesto, and proceeded to say that as pan people, we'll be "talking over bi people" if we dare disagree/question with their blatant twisting of what it says, or say that they're leaving aspects out. The post said that it isn't our place to question whether or not they're right.
I don't understand that argument. They (panphobes) use a source (one which contradicts their whole argument but I digress) and then accuse us of talking over them before anyone even has a CHANCE to disagree, saying we don't have a right to reference the bi manifesto ourselves unless we get the same thing out of it?
I don't understand at all, but it's all so damn intimidating to see that I just feel like I'm gonna cry, like my mere existence is oppressing bi people. The confusion I get out of it makes it worse. I don't define pan as being "more inclusive than bi" but panphobes are so instant that we all define it that way that I still feel guilty over it. It confuses and scares me until my brain is numb and I don't know what to think anymore. Until I feel like thinking in itself is bad if I don't agree.
Lastly, I struggle not to read these sorts of posts, because every time I DO, I'm being framed as a bad person for being pan, and my instinct to feel guilty makes it impossible to tune it out. That's a me problem, I suppose, but I figured I should explain why I'm seeing this sort of thing so often.
hi!
this is why i have come to hate the whole concept of derailment in online queer spaces, especially in “discourse”. as well as how often people say things like, “if you’re not x, don’t speak on x issues/history”. people (most often exclusionists of whatever kind) use that to silence and vilify anyone who is correcting misinformation or the twisting/erasure of queer history.
every queer person has the right to learn about and discuss all of queer history, and no one should be using their queer identity as a shield against other queer people correcting or educating them on queer history. that’s not how queerness works. stop using your queerness as a weapon against other queer people.
and with this situation in particular, bi history is mspec history. period. point blank. end of discussion. the bi community and movement has always included all mspec people, regardless of what labels, if any, they used. bi history is our history. we have the right to speak on it. and we have the right to correct people who are erasing, weaponizing, or misrepresenting it.
it’s so evil for them to erase us from our own history to vilify us for daring to speak on it to deflect away the fact that they’re the ones disrespecting it.
it’s also wild that they think we can’t correct or question them because we’re not bi, yet they try to school us on pan history without hesitation. that panphobic hypocrisy always rears its head.
and it’s funny that panphobes will say pan people are bi but then claim us interacting with bi posts is a derailment. like, if “pan people = bi people” how is a post for/about bi people being derailed by pan people interacting with it? they really need to make up their mind about if we’re the same or not lmao.
i’m sorry this upset you so much. i understand that panphobes and what they say can be intimidating and overwhelming. try to remember that they aren’t coming from a place of objectivity or neutrality or a genuine desire to educate people or even support bi people. everything they say comes from a hatred of pan people and pansexuality, and that fact makes everything they say rightfully questionable. they will pick and choose what parts of history and people’s experiences that they want to use in their arguments based on which ones already fit their hatred or that they can twist to fit their hatred. if you don’t already know, look up confirmation bias. it’s panphobes (and exclusionists in general) to a t.
but none of those things, none of what they say and do, none of their hatred or misuse of history says anything about you. you have absolutely nothing to feel guilty about. you are under zero obligations to agree with panphobes and exclusionists. and you definitely do not have to think of them as somehow more educated or qualified to speak on queerness than you are. the idea that pan people (and other non-bi mspec people) should always defer to bi people on the topic of our history and identities is so incredibly patronizing and queerphobic.
also, no need to apologize for venting, no matter how long it is!!!
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derekfoxwit · 3 years
Text
Doctor Dorpden’s Critical Tips of Prestige
Note: This post was made with satirical intentions in mind. I’m only emphasizing because I’ve had a couple of comments on previous joke posts I’ve did take it seriously. With that said, here we go.
Tip 1: For starters, remember that when looking at the work, if the Mystic Knee twitches fast enough to punch a hole in a wall, this suggests that the work should be near the lowest of the low. No further development of opinion is needed.
Tip 2: For an equal degree of sophistication, give the warm comfort of nostalgia at least 5 times more chances than the new thing that MAY seem actually poggers.
Tip 3: If you have the anecdote of encountering shitty fans, then use them as a scapegoat for the show they flaunt over being shitty. Clearly, they’re always making the show the way it is.
Tip 4: If you haven’t heard much about a newer film or show you’re yet to watch, there’s an 85% chance that film or show is actually not worth your time. The Father (2020) isn’t as widespread as Joker (2019) for a reason.
Tip 5: At this point, just go for the Asian Artist Dick. I’m actually in the mood to see merit in that because I want to look edgy against cute doodles. Stop attacking Uzaki-Chan, you cowards!
Tip 6: Avoid the electronic tunes. They’ll make you smell like a bum, for there’s no structural in a music album that’s nothing but wubs.
Tip 7: If you see a Tweet that looks dumb, use it as a means of generalizing all the fans of a work as sharing that same opinion.
Tip 8: If the cartoon I’m given doesn’t provide me with mature ideas such as slicing an Arbok in half or fake boobs, then the cartoon might as well be on the same level as Teletubbies.
Tip 9: You know the music is (c)rap when it brings up drugs, regardless of lyrical context.
Tip 10:  Raw mood is the indicator of quality cartooning. If you’re quick to assume the worst in the newest HBO Max original cartoon, then you got thyself a stinker. Same thing if you were super bummed out when watching a new thing, regardless of anecdotal context.
Tip 11:  When you’re not given continuous throwbacks, ensure you’re as reductive and over-generalizing about the works shown as possible.
Tip 12:  If your hazy and imperfect as hell recollection of a children’s film, whether it’s Wall-E or Lilo & Stitch, would describe said film as “too sugary” or “key-waving schlock”, then that HAS to be the case. No meat on that bone whatsoever.
Tip 13: Simpler, more graphic style that isn’t as realistic as old-school Disney or Anime? You got yourself a lazy style with zero passion put into it.
UPA? Who’s THAT?!
Tip 14: Don’t trust anyone saying that western children’s cartoons had any form of artistic development after 2008 (with, like, TWO exceptions). If it did, why didn’t we go from stealing organs in a 2001 cartoon to showing opened stomachs in a 2021 cartoon?
Tip 15: Big booba is always important to the strong female character’s quality.
Tip 16:  Only MY ships count, for they provide me with a feeling of intelligence.
Tip 17: “PG-13″ and “R” rating just simply mean you’re not caring for expressing themes in a sophisticated manner. It’s just THAT simple until I dictate otherwise.
Tip 18:  In this age of smelly radicals, “Death of the Author” is more important than ever. Without it, this’ll imply that a classic like The Matrix was secretly toxic, due to what the Wachowskis have to say about it being an “allegory of trans people.”
Tip 19: Turn the fandoms you hate into your torture porn. Ask in Tweets to Retweet one sentence that’d “trigger” them. Go out of your way to paint all of them as blind consoomers. That’ll show them, and it’ll show how much more intelligent you are compared to those clowns.
Tip 20: Whatever the Mystic Knee dictates upon the first viewing of a work is what shall indicate the full structural extent of the film.
Tip 21: The mindset of a 2000s edgelord is one that actually understands the artistry of the medium of animation. Listen to that crazy but ingenious man.
Tip 22: Because sheer ambition makes me feel manly, the high pedestal you bestow upon a cartoon work should be based mostly on the mere mention or mere suggestion of serious topics. This means that pure comedy is smelly.
Tip 23: Is the new work tackling subjects that you’ve loved a childhood work of yours for covering? Just assume it’s super bare-bones in that case compared to the older case, for there’s nothing the older work can do to truly prove itself otherwise. Seriously, Letterboxd. Stop giving any 2010s cartoon anything above a 4/5
Tip 24: If the Mystic Knee is suggesting that the work is crummy, then consider any explanation off the top of your head for why the work in question is crummy.
Tip 25: Sexual and gender identity is inherently political, so don’t focus on them in the story. It’s no wonder why Full Metal Alchemist has caught on more than the She-Ra reboot.
Tip 26: Since I got bothered by a random butt monkey type character in a crummy cartoon, I’m now obligated to assume that having a butt monkey will only harm the writing integrity of the cartoon.
Seriously, Mr. Enter....what?!
Tip 27: We’re at a point where pure comedy for a kids’ cartoon is doing nothing but dumbing down the children. Like seriously...... I doubt Billy and Mandy would ever use farts as a punchline, unlike these newer kids comedies.
Tip 28: The difference between the innuendo in kids’ cartoons I grew up on and the ones Zootopia made is the sense of prestige they give me. Just take notes from the former instead.
Tip 29: Wanna make a work of artistic merit? Just take notes from the stuff I whore out to. It’s just THAT simple until I dictate otherwise.
Tip 30: Always remember this golden rule: If the newer work, or a work you’ve recently experienced the first time, was truly great, why isn’t it providing the exact emotions from your younger, more impressionable years?
Tip 31: If the Mystic Knee aims to break the bones of a character doing certain things (.i.e. having body count of thousands; lashing out to character; etc.), that means the character is bad and deserves no redemption.
Tip 32: If you want me to believe there’s any intrigue or depth in your antagonist, give them redemption, for I am in need of that sorta thing being spelled out. Looking at you, Syndrome. Should’ve taken notes from Tai Lung.
Tip 33: In a case where you’re going “X > Y” (.i.e. manga compared to western comics), ALWAYS CHERRY PICK! Use the recent controversies of the “Y” item while pretending that the “X” item has never had anything of the sort.
Tip 34: BEFORE you bring up those comments that shat on the original Teen Titans cartoon back when it was new, whether for making Starfire “more PC” or whatever.......the DIFFERENCE between them and me is that THEY were just bad faith fools that couldn’t see true majesty out of blind rage. I, however, am truly certain that calling any western TV cartoon from 2014-onward a work that transcends its generation suggests a destruction of the medium.
Tip 35: Based on fandom growth, it shows that any newer show isn’t being watched much by kids, but rather loser adults that act like children. Therefore, there’s more prestige in what I grew with.
Tip 36: The focus on children is bad at this point since the children of today have attention spans that flies would have.
Tip 37: A select few screenshots (or even one) of either a less elaborate attacking animation, less realistic game graphics, or a less on-model image in a cartoon indicates EVERYTHING about the work’s quality.
Tip 38: Consuming or writing media where characters go through constant suffering is little more than gaining pleasure out of it. YOU SICKOS!
Looking at you, Lily Orchard!
Tip 39: Whether it’s a sexual awakening story or just simply a romance, focus on a character being lesbian, trans, bi, etc., then it shouldn’t be in a kids’ work. It’s too spicy for them by default. Kids don’t want romance anyway.
Tip 40: The very idea of a western cartoon with no full-blown antagonist (i.e. Inside Out) is a destruction of animated artistry. Sorry, but it’s just THAT simple until I dictate otherwise.
Tip 41: Unless it’s my fluffy pillow, such as Disney’s Robin Hood, it should be obligated to assume the inserting of anthros is only there to pleasure the furries. Looking at YOU, Zootopia!
Tip 42: With how rough and rash The Beast was, it shows that he was more of an abusive lover. Therefore, I refuse to believe that Beauty and the Beast has any of the meticulous moral writing that most of Disney’s other 90s films has.
Tip 43: When you suggest one work should’ve “taken notes” from another work in order to do better, BE VAGUE! Those who agree will be shown to be geniuses.
Tip 44: Remember how morally grey Invader Zim was? That really goes to show how little the Western Animation scene has been trying since that show. Really should just be taking notes from that series (and of course anime).
Tip 45: Even if I have a radar that clearly indicates such, hiding the item I look for inside an enemy is always bad, for I refuse to believe it would be inside the enemy.
Goddamn it, Arin!
Tip 46: People struggle understanding your gender identity or pronouns? All there is to see in that is a giant cloud of egotism that reads “My problems” zapping another smaller cloud that reads “other people’s problems”. Seriously, kids are starving, so WHAT if you identity confused someone. Grow a spine!
Tip 47: Stop pretending that adaptations should colorize how a story or comic series should be defined. No way in FUCK can a cartoon or film incarnation become the definitive portrayal of my precious superhero idol.
Tip 48: Enough with your precious “limited animation” techniques, YOU WESTERN HACKS! All you’re doing is admitting to sheer laziness and lacking artistic integrity. Now if you excuse me, I’ll be watching more anime, since that gives me a sense of prestige.
Tip 49: If getting five times more detail than the 2D animated visuals have requires someone getting hurt, so be it. No pain, no gain after all.
Tip 50: Yes, I genuinely struggle to believe there’s this majestic level of layered material without having the most immediate yet still vague re-assurance practically yelling in my face. But that’s STILL the work’s fault, not mine.
Tip 51: Every Klasky-Csupo cartoon has more artistic integrity than any of them cartoons with gay lovers such as Kipo or the Netflix She-Ra show.
Tip 52:  If Sergio Pablos’ Klaus is anything to go by, we have no excuse to utilize those smelly as fuck digital animation “styles” found on Stinky Universe, Suck-Ra or Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turds.
Tip 53: Stop projecting your orientation onto works of actual talent. Seriously, how does Elton John’s I’m Still Standing expel ANY rainbow flag energy?
Tip 54: Hip hop and electronica have been the destruction of music, especially the kind that’s actually organic and not farting on the buttons of a beeping or drumming gadget.
Tip 55: The audience for cartoons has become significantly less clear over the years. We should just go back to Saturday mornings of being sold toys or shit kids actually want.
Tip 56: PSAs for kids shouldn’t be about ‘woke’ content. They should be actual problems such as doing drugs; not playing with knifes / outlets / matches; or acceptance.
Tip 57: The instant you realize a detail in a childhood work that’s better understood as an adult, you’re forced to paint that work as the most transcendent thing in the world. It’s just THAT simple until I dictate otherwise.
Tip 58: Before you lash out on ALL rich people, remember this: #Not All Rich People.
Tip 59: There’s nothing to gain out of the (c)rap scene other than becoming a spiteful, gun-wielding thug that sniffs weed for breakfast.
Tip 60: Since the Mystic Knee told me to get anal about prom episodes in several gay cartoons, this shows that writing about one’s younger experiences just makes you look pathetic.
Tip 61: Another smelly thing about Zootopia is how it was painting a police chief as stern and exclusive. #Not All Chiefs
Tip 62: Me catching a glimpse of Grave of the Fireflies as a kid and turning out fine shows that you may as well show kids more adult works without worry. No amount of psychological questions being asked will suggest otherwise.
Tip 63: There’s a reason why the Mystic Knee keeps leaning more toward the 90s and early 2000s than most decades. That knee KNOWS where there’s a sense of true refinement.
Tip 64: The BIG difference between rock and electronica? Steward Copeland actually DRUMS. All that the likes of Burial, Boards of Canada, Depeche Mode and several others did was push drum buttons.
Tip 65: One exception to the golden nostalgia is when the work in question doesn’t stuff your face with fantastical, bombastic stories. At which point, there can only be rose-colored blinds covering Nickelodeon’s Doug. Nothing of merit or personal resonance to be found.
Tip 66: Remember that the sense of nuance in the work comes down to there being everything including the kitchen sink, whether it involves multiple geographic landscapes; giving us hundreds of characters; etc. Only through the extremes will I be able to tell there is nuance.
Tip 67: Once you see a joke that has an involvement with sexual or violent content, just ignore the full picture and just reduce it to having nothing to it but “sex, violence, gimme claps.”
PKRussel has entered the chat
Tip 68: With all the SJWs messing up the art of comedy, lament the times where you could be called a comic genius, NOT a monster, for shouting out the word “STAB,” calling a gay weird, painting Middle Easterns as inherently violent, etc.
Tip 69: Guitar twang will always win out over (c)rap beats. There’s a reason your grandma is more likely to listen to Lynyrd Skynyrd than Kendrick Lamar.
Tip 70: Once the Mystic Knee notices a lack of squealing at the video game with linearity, that shows there’s more artistry in going full-blown open world.
Tip 71: Related to Tips 66 and 68, ensure your comedy gets as much information and mileage out of each individual skit as possible. EMPHASIZE if you need to. Continuously spout out your quirky phrase of “STAB” if needed.
Tip 72: Based on the onslaught of TV shows with many seasons and episodes, animated or otherwise, it shows that there’s more worth going for that than simply having a miniseries or a 26-episode anime.
Tip 73: Building off of the previous tip, you’re better off squeezing and exhausting every little detail and notable characterization rather than keeping anything simple and possibly leaving a stone unturned, especially if there’s supposed to be a story. 
Tip 74: Playing through the fan translation of Mother 3 made me realize how much some newer kids’ works just try too hard to get serious. Why even make the kids potentially think about the death of a family member?
Tip 75: The fear I had over Sid’s toys from the first Toy Story and similar anecdotal emotions are the be-all indicators of what kind of show or film is fitting for the children.
Tip 76:  Seeing this British rapper chick have a song titled “Point and Kill” just further exemplifies the fears I’ve had about rappers being some of the most harmful folks ever.
Tip 77: The problem with attempting to make a more “relatable” She-Ra is that kids aren’t looking for relatability. They want the escapism of buff fighters or something similar. This is why slice-of-life is so smelly.
Tip 78: Based on seeing the rating of “PG-13″ or “R,” I can tell that the dark humor is little more than “hur dur sex and guns.” Given the “TV-Y7 FV” rating of Invader Zim, the writers should’ve taken notes from that instead just so I can sense actual prestige.
Tip 79: The original He-Man has more visual intrigue in its animation than any of those smelly glorified doodles found in the “styles" of the 2010s and early 2020s.
Tip 80: It’s always the fault of the game that my first guess (that I refuse to divert from) on how I have to go through an obstacle won’t work.
Tip 81: Zootopia discussing prejudice ruins the majestic escapism I got from my precious childhood films from 1991-2004. Them kids might as well be watching the news. Now to watch some Hunchback after I finish these tips.
Tip 82: There is no such thing as an unreasonable expectation, and there’s especially no wrong way to address the lack of met expectations! For example, if you expect some early 2010s cartoon on the Disney Channel to be a Kids X-Files, yet you get moments such as some girl getting high on stick dipping candy, you got the right to paint the worst out of that show for not being “Kids’ X-Files.”
Tip 83: Related to my example for Tip 82, if you get the slightest impression of something being childish, you know you got yourself a children’s work that does little than wave keys and has basically nothing substantial for them. In this situation, those malfunctioning robots found in Wall-E are the guilty party.
Tip 84: Without the extensive dialogue that I’m used to getting, how can one say for certain there was any amount of characterization in the title character of Wall-E?
Tip 85: Ever noticed yourself gradually being less likely to expect an upcoming work or view a work you’re just consuming as “the next best thing”? That’s ALWAYS the fault of smelly “artists” (hacks really) and their refusal to give a shit.
Tip 86:  It’s obligatory for your lead to be explicitly heroic just so there is this immediate re-assurance that they’re a good one.
Tip 87: Without the comforting safety net of throwbacks, one cannot be for certain that there has been an actual evolution of a series or the art of animation and video games.
Tip 88: Don’t PSA kids on stuff they give zero fucks about. That means no gender identities or pronouns, race, etc.
Tip 89: Don’t listen to Mamoru Hosoda saying that anime women tend to be “depicted through a lens” of sexual desire. He’s just distracting from the superior prestige found in anime women.
Tip 90:  If you’re desperate to let others know that your talking points are reasonable, just repeat them over and over with little expansion on said talking points.
Tip 91: 7 or more seasons of art is better than 26 episodes of art.  EVERY TIME!
Tip 92: Always remember to continuously talk up the innuendo and mature subject matter of the childhood work as the most prestigious, transcendent thing of all time. With that in mind, there’s a high chance that your favorite childhood work will be better known than Perfect Blue (1997), and there’s likely a reason for that.
Tip 93: An art style that gives many characters relatively more realistic arm muscle details will always shine through more than any sort of art style done for “simplicity” (laziness, really).
Tip 94:  Seeing a few (like, even VERY FEW) people show more enthusiasm for Steven Universe over Invader Zim really shows the lower bar that has been expected out of the western animation scene compared to anime.
Tip 95: Electronic music makes less conventional time signatures cheap as hell. REAL music like rock makes them the exact opposite.
Tip 96: If your Mystic Knee suggests that the 90s cartoon being viewed doesn’t showcase a vague sense of refinement or artistic integrity, then every related assumption of yours is right. EVERY TIME!
Tip 97: Doing everything and the kitchen sink for one series or movie shows a better sense of refinement and prestige than any form of simplicity. THIS includes character design as well.
Tip 98: The advent of that Star Wars: Visions anime really shows just how stinky western cartoons have become.
Tip 99:  For those wondering, no, Europe isn’t being counted in my definition of “western animation”. Doing so is a complete disservice to prestige.
Tip 100: If even less than half of these tips aren’t being considered, you can kiss that prestige badge goodbye. After all, I SAID SO!
8 notes · View notes
mymoodwriting · 4 years
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    Working in a cafe, you get used to the smell of coffee, or become numb to it, either way, it kinda becomes your life. It was a part time, something else to occupy your time with when you weren’t in school. Everyday was pretty much the same, not much excitement besides talking with your friend, that is until one day, he walked in. Everyone knew he was beautiful, like some kind of god. You thought it was a one time blessing, but everyday he came, and everyday he ordered the same thing.
“I think he likes you?”
“Huh? Don’t say that, he’s way out of my league.”
“Then why does he come here everyday?”
“Cause we make good coffee? Nice atmosphere?”
“Come on, he totally likes you.”
“Just shut up.”
“He always smiles at you.”
“He’s being nice.”
“But his eyes.”
“What about them?”
“Haven’t you seen them?”
“Why would I look at his eyes? That’s weird.”
“Cause he’s got that love sick look! He totally has a crush.”
“No… surely he would have said something.”
“Oh come on, what if he’s shy? Look at that smile, he’s absolutely a shy boy.”
“Well I’m not gonna look stupid. So either he can get over me, or ask me out.”
“You’re so harsh.”
“You think I’m not shy? Or scared…”
“Scared of what?”
“Rejection. He’s super pretty, why would he like someone like me. It’s unrealistic.”
“But if you don’t ask you’ll never know.”
“And I’m willing to accept that.”
    A little over a month went by and he still came in every single day, well, everyday you worked. Same order, same smile, same sneaky glance in your direction when he had the chance. The teasing from your friend had stopped, but you couldn’t ignore what was clearly going on. To some degree you were annoyed, but also flattered. Regardless, you knew you were gonna have to make the first move and see what happened. The next day when he came, you asked to speak with him.
“So… can I ask… why do you come here everyday?”
“Ah… should I tell you a story?”
“Sure.”
    He blushed a bit in embarrassment, you were even befuddled by his suggestions, but he went on and began his story.
“There was a man who would go into the same cafe everyday, because of his feelings towards the woman who worked there. She was so beautiful in his eyes, and one day he had the courage to admit his feelings for her. They were together for the remainder of her life.”
“Her… life? What does that mean?”
“The man does not age, and has lived for 400 years. He mourned the loss of his first love, unsure of when he’d move on, until one day, decades later, he found her again. As he was walking the streets he saw her working in a cafe, and she looked just as beautiful. He couldn’t believe what he saw at first, but then he came to realize it was her. Same voice, even the same name, she came back to him, and now he’s trying to get the courage to tell her the truth.”
“Wow that’s touching… you must be a great writer.”
“What?”
“Thank you for that, I should get back to work. I’ll prepare your Americano, on me.”
    You bowed and quickly excused yourself, going back behind the counter. Your friend was eagerly waiting for your return, wanting all the details but you just started on the order.
“So? SO? What did he say?”
“I don’t even know, but it was creepy.”
“What? How?”
“He was being vague and told me a story about how he’s supposedly immortal and fell in love with a girl who looked just like me hundreds of years ago or something.”
“I don’t get it, how’s that creepy?”
“It sounds obsessive, and delusional. I think he needs help, like, a psyche ward or something.”
“Really?”
“You should be happy I did what you wanted and talked to him.”
“I guess…”
“If you wanna crush on him go for it, but I’m good.”
    You thought maybe he’d stop coming by after that chat you had, but he didn’t, if anything he seemed happier. You tried to be indifferent but eventually his constant presence was creeping you out, so you avoided him. When he came to the shop you stepped off the register, just making the coffee, and not looking back until he left. It was probably harsh but your comfort mattered more than his.
“He’s lost his smile you know.”
“Then maybe he’ll stop coming.”
“You sound mean.”
“He’s creeping me out now okay, I should look for another job and move.”
“Don’t exaggerate, I’m sure once he’s heartbroken enough he’ll leave.”
“Hopefully.”
    You kept up your little routine, until one day you couldn’t. Your friend called in sick last minute, so you had to be alone for a while, and that’s when he came in.
“Welcome to X, may I take your order?”
“Um… one Americano… and your number.”
You choked out a laugh. “I’m sorry, that’s not on the menu.”
“I know, I just wanted to ease your worries, and apologize if I made you uncomfortable after the last time we spoke. I just… I’ve fallen for you, I like you, and I didn’t know how to say it. So can we just start over? I’m Taeyong.”
“I… hello, it’s nice to meet you… I kinda got that… you liked me... but I’m not interested in dating right now, sorry.”
“Oh…”
“I’ll prepare your order.”
    You quickly got to work, not wanting the conversation to last any longer than it needed to. His whole demeanor had changed. He smiled at you but the look in his eyes were different. You didn’t think too much about it, just glad the truth was out in the open and you could actually move on. It kinda felt like this weight off your shoulder, so you were very calm the rest of the day, eager to go home.
    It was night by the time your shift ended and you said goodbye to your manager. You started walking towards your bus stop, checking your phone, unaware of the world around you, unaware of who was approaching. A stranger and you crossed paths in front of an alley, and that’s where you were grabbed. You would have screamed but your mouth was covered and you were dragged out of sight. Eventually you were pinned against the wall and could see your attacker, their identity concealed by a mask and hoodie, but the voice was recognizable.
“I wish it didn’t come to this, but I will not lose you again.”
    Taeyong pulled down his mask and in a flash was on your neck. You felt a prick, another scream built in your throat, but it was washed away by a feeling of pleasure, and this growing exhaustion. You grew limp, sinking into his arms, somewhat blissfully lost in your own mind. You weren’t aware of the blood on Taeyong’s lips, or his fangs, or the soft smile that adorned his face as he caressed your cheek. All you could do was giggle and give him a smile too.
“I’m going to take you home now, okay? You’ll be right where you belong, with me.”
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wiypt-writes · 3 years
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Stark Spangled Banner
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Ch42: Maybe Baby Part 1- I Made That
Intro: Katie and Emmy both meet a new friend, and Tony and Pepper welcome their baby girl to the world. As the family enjoy the happiness the new addition brings, it leads Steve and Katie to a big decision of their own…
Warnings: Bad Language words. Smut! (NSFW) No under 18s. Teeth rotting fluff…
Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark
Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.
Chapter 41 Part 2
Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist
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May 2019
“Come on, Emmy, throw me a bone here!” Katie sighed as she sat in the chair of the coffee shop. “I can’t do anything about it if I don’t know what’s wrong.” She paused and rolled her eyes. “Jesus I sound like Steve.”
Emmy sighed and looked out of the window. “Why do I have to go back?”
“Because.” Katie said, rubbing at her temple “Look, you’ve already been out of school for like nearly a year, and it’s only for a couple of months and then it’s gonna be summer.” “So what’s the point of going then?” Emmy persisted. “Can’t I just wait and go back in September?”
Katie let out a groan, dropped her head into her hands before she heard a soft chuckle. She looked up to see the woman who was behind the counter had come across to clear away the empty mugs on the table. “She sounds just like my daughter.” The red haired lady smiled. “Nothing but back chat.” “I thought a hot chocolate and a muffin would help.” Katie side eyed her foster daughter. “Clearly I was wrong.”
Emmy scowled at her in response.
“The Decimation screwed a lot of things up” The woman sighed. “Tell me about it.” Katie breathed out. At that point the woman was joined by a girl who was the spitting image of her, Katie assuming it to be her daughter.
“Oh.Em.Gee!” The girl spluttered, looking at Katie “You’re Katie Stark, I mean Rogers!”
Katie grimaced and glanced around the shop. There were only three other people in and as they looked over she let out a relieved noise as they simply nodded to her and turned back to their drinks. “Brooke!” The woman chastised before giving Katie an apologetic look. “I’m so sorry, you’re clearly here for a quiet drink and-” “It’s fine.” Katie hastily said, glancing at Emmy who was looking at the girl, frowning.
The woman looked at her daughter before she glanced at Katie, then to Emmy. “Brooke here goes to MS in Brooklyn.” she offered suddenly.
“What’s MS?” Emmy looked at Brooke.
“The Maths and Science Exploratory School.” Brooke nodded. “It’s really cool. Before the err…well, before they used to do all sortsa stuff…” “Brooke, why don’t you take Emmy into the back and show her some of your work and the website?” the woman offered “If that’s ok with you.” She looked to Katie. “Fine by me, what do you think Em?” Katie asked.
Emmy gave a nonchalant shrug. “Whatever.” “Manners!” Katie looked at her sternly. Emmy had the good grace to look a bit abashed when she stood up and turned to Brooke.
“Sorry, yeah I’d like to see.”
Katie watched her go before she looked at the woman “Thank you.” The lady smiled and nodded to Katie’s mug “Refil?” “Please.”
“Coming right up.”
Katie leaned back on the comfy sofa and pulled out her phone. She had a message from Steve, asking her how it was going. She responded with three words ‘Fucking hard work’ before she slid her phone away as the woman came back with two mugs.
“Mind if I join you? Might as well take a break whilst we’re quiet.”
“No, of course not.” Katie gestured with her hands and the woman took a seat on the chair at the other side of the table.
“I’m Jennifer by the way.” She held out her hand “I own this place.” “Nice to meet you.” Katie smiled “I would introduce myself but…”
“My loud mouth daughter did it for you.” Jennifer rolled her eyes. “Yeah, sorry about that. I wasn’t sure she would recognise you and I didn’t want to draw attention to you by warning her not to say anything…”
“Don’t worry about it” Katie shook her head “I mean it’s not like my identity is a secret. It’s just not everyone is particularly pleased to see us now-a-days. They seem to flip from either thanking us all for our efforts or screaming at us that it’s all our fault.”
“People are idiots.” Jennifer said simply “Anyone who blames you guys for any of this needs to get a check of themselves.” Katie smiled, sipping at her coffee “You know this is a really good roast. I’ll have to tip Steve off about it, he’s a coffee fiend.”
Jennifer smiled and then she looked over to the counter before glancing back “So, sorry for being nosey but I know you didn’t have a kid before, well, you know.” “Oh, she’s fostered.” Katie smiled. “I’ve known her since she was eighteen months old and she lost her last foster carers in the snap. We took her in for a night and she never left.”
“That’s good of you.” Jennifer smiled
“Least we could do.” Katie glanced at her coffee “When I look round and see what others lost, it brings it home to me how lucky I was, you know. I mean don’t get me wrong we lost people we cared about, a great deal. But my brother, my family, my husband, all still alive.”
Katie trailed off and thought to their baby. It had struck her on the first anniversary of the snap a few weeks earlier that their baby would have been with them now. Either a boy or a girl, blue or green eyes, blonde or dark, they’d never know.
“You can’t think like that.” Jennifer shook her head. “It doesn’t matter who you didn’t lose, you still lost. Hell, everyone lost, and everyone hurts, regardless of whether it was 1 person or 10. It doesn’t feel any less shit.” “You lost someone?” Katie looked at her.
“My dad.” Jennifer looked at her hands “My mom died a few years back and my husband was killed in Afghanistan not long after Brooke was born. So now it’s just us” “Sorry.” Katie bowed her head as the woman wiped at her eyes “I didn’t mean to…” Jennifer waved away her apology and smiled “Don’t be. It is what it is.” At that point the two girls came back into the main part of the shop, and Emmy was clutching a pile of paper.
“We printed some info off, mom.” Brooke said, “So Emmy can read it later. And we exchanged numbers, so she can text me later if she has questions and stuff.” “Good thinking!” Jennifer smiled.
“Right, you ready to go?” Katie looked at Emmy. “Steve’s cooking so we should go make sure he hasn’t burnt the compound down.”
“You live in the Avengers Compound?” Brooke looked at Emmy, wide eyed “Man that’s awesome.” Emmy smiled before she looked at Katie “What’s Steve-o making?”
“I think he said he was doing carbonara.” “Oh, that was good last time he cooked it.” Katie smiled, pulling on her jacket. “Yeah, it was actually.” She stood up and smiled at Jennifer. “It was really nice to meet you.” She reached into her bag for a twenty to pay but Jennifer waved it away “On the house.” “Oh, no.” Katie protested, dropping the twenty to the table, but the woman picked it up and handed it back. Pursing her lips, Katie spotted the tip jar on the counter and quickly strode over to it, depositing the note through the slot before giving the woman a smug look. Jennifer laughed and shrugged before she reached over the counter and handed Katie a business card.
“My mobile number is on there.” She smiled, “If you ever fancy a chat or a drink some time, anything at all.” “Thanks” Katie beamed. “That’s really kind of you.”
“Bye!” Emmy waved as they exited the shop. She turned to Katie as they walked to the car. “They’re nice.” “Yeah, yeah they are.” Kate smiled “Come on, let’s get home before we’re late and we get the eyebrow of disappointment.”
****** The last week in May brought some unusually cold and wet weather for the time of year, which wasn’t surprising as the climate was still all over the place. It was normally the time of year they celebrated Tony’s birthday on the 29th with a BBQ or something, but there was none of that this time. Not least because of the weather, but more over that his birthday was overshadowed spectacularly by the arrival of his daughter, Morgan Hope Stark some four days earlier on the 25th.
“Guys.” Katie gulped, tears welling in her eyes as her baby niece gently stirred in her arms, her eyes not opening as she moved her hands gently, “She’s…” “Amazing, I know.” Pepper gushed beaming up at Katie from where she was sat, propped up in the hospital bed.
“I made that.” Tony bragged, his chest puffed out. Katie knew how genuinely proud he was simply by the affectionate gleam in his eyes. Pepper rolled her eyes playfully, sharing a look with her sister-in-law.  
Steve’s arm curled round Katie’s waist as he gazed down at the baby in her arms, smiling gently as he smoothed the blanket down to get a closer look. She had a light dusting of dark hair, Tony’s cheekbones and Pepper’s nose.
“Wanna hold Uncle Steve?” Katie asked, looking at him.
“Erm, yeah, sure, that ok?” Steve looked at Pepper and Tony.
“Just don’t drop her.” Tony narrowed his eyes “Or throw her, she’s not a shield.” “Tony, you’re such a dick.” Katie sighed, passing the precious bundle to Steve who gently took her, supporting her head with his large hand.
As Steve cradled the tiny baby in his large arms, filled with wonder at the miniature human he was holding, he suddenly felt a lump in his throat. 
This would have been them.
As Morgan curled her hand around his large index finger the lump grew larger and he fought to keep the tears that had sprung into his eyes from dropping down his cheeks. 
Across the room, Tony curled his arm round his sister’s shoulder and dropped a kiss to her head as she wiped away the single tear that she herself had shed hastily before Steve saw.
Steve collected Emmy later that evening from Brooke’s. Emmy had decided to go to MS after all, and as such the two girls had fast become inseparable during the week and often at weekends too.
“She’s been ever so well behaved and polite.” Jennifer smiled, handing Steve Emmy’s rucksack. Steve nodded and gently placed a large hand on the back of Emmy’s head
“Good.”
“Gerroff.” she shrugged him away “I’m not six.” Steve rolled his eyes as he looked at Jennifer and raised an eyebrow “Clearly just us she gives back chat to.”
Jennifer chuckled “And they say it’s gonna get worse as they get older” “I can’t wait!” Steve replied, sarcastically. The woman laughed, Steve thanked her again and they headed to the car.
“So what’s Morgan like?” Emmy asked as Steve set off back up the main road to head out of Manhattan and towards the Compound. “Does she look like Tony?”
“A little, more like Pepper really.” Steve smiled
“Phew.” Emmy grinned and Steve gave a snort.
“Katie got some photos so she’ll show you when we get home.” Emmy glanced out of the window at the passing trees before she turned back to Steve “Do you think you and Katie will ever have a baby?” Steve’s knuckles tightened on the steering wheel as he took a deep breath, and he instantly regretted it when he felt Emmy recoil in the seat next to him.
“I’m sorry.” she began, and Steve cursed himself for being so damned easy to read. He hated it when she got scared and fearful that she’d done something wrong. Every time they tried to discipline her for misbehaviour she would end up trembling out of deep rooted fear she was going to get a beating.
“Sweetie, I’m not mad, and you have nothing to be sorry for.” Steve sighed, “It’s just, well,” he bit his lip “,in the Snap, Katie and I lost a baby. Katie, was pregnant and we didn’t know.” “Oh.” Emmy frowned, looking back at her hands “That’s sad.” “Yeah.” Steve said with a small smile. The simple words she had used were spot on, there was no other way to describe it. “Yeah it is. But, we got you to look after and you can throw some spectacular tantrums so it’s kinda like having a baby in a way.”
“Rude.” Emmy glared at him, and he couldn’t hide the smile on his face at her indignation.
The two of them arrived home to Katie declaring from her spot on the sofa that she didn’t want to cook so had ordered take-out Pizza much to Emmy’s delight, but one look at his wife told Steve she’d been crying. As soon as their foster daughter was out of earshot and had gone to her room he sat down next to her and turned to face her.
“What’s wrong, Sweetheart?”
“I’m fine.” She shrugged, and Steve quirked an eyebrow.
“You forget Mrs Rogers, I can read you like a book.” He snaked his fingers in between hers and she took a deep breath “Talk to me, honey.”
“Just seeing you there with Morgan before, I couldn’t help but feel that…” she stumbled over her words as her tears began to form again “That could have, should have been us, you know?” Steve sighed and gently reached out to her, pulling her to his chest.
“I know.” He whispered softly, dropping kiss to her head “I know.”
“They would have been coming up for six months old now, give or take.” Katie sighed gently and his arms tightened around her. Taking a deep breath he decided to voice what was on his mind and dropped his head slightly, nudging her face up with his nose.
“You know, we could always…” He trailed off, and she licked her lips as she looked at him, understanding immediately what he was suggesting.
“I dunno.” She sighed, “I mean I like the idea, but…” “But?”
“I’m scared, Steve.” “What of?” “Well, that something will go wrong.”
“Why would it go wrong?” he frowned.
“It did last time.”
He sighed. “Katie, nothing you could have done would have made a difference. Once he snapped…”
“Do you really want kids?” She cut him off, looking at him.
“Yeah, I do.” He answered honestly “I wasn’t that bothered about it before but now, well with Emmy being here and Morgan, the thought of our own child, running around, one that’s half me half you…I can’t even begin to explain how amazing that feels.” Katie looked down at her hands and Steve took a deep breath. “But if it’s not what you want then it doesn’t matter” He gently titled her face up to look at him.
She looked at him, her eyes locked onto his and her words were almost a whisper. “I do want. I want a baby with you.” His eyes flashed and he gave a grin. “Well that’s good, I’d be worried if you wanted one with someone else.” “Jerk.” She scoffed, hitting his chest as he laughed before she took a deep breath “Maybe we could like try but not try.” “I’m not following.” Steve frowned.
Katie sighed. “I don’t wanna get hung up on it.” She shrugged “No pressure. So maybe not try as such, just don’t try to stop anything.”
Steve smiled, if he was honest, a baby to him should be borne out of love and not some kind of weird planned parenting mission. 
“Is that ok with you?” she looked at him. “Oh, Kitten.” Steve’s face split into a huge grin and he took her face in both his hands “It is very, very ok.”
******
August 2019
“Thor came here?” Katie asked as she looked at Tony, the two of them sat on his porch. Katie was bouncing Morgan on her knee whilst Emmy was busy helping Pepper feed Gerald, Tony’s newest addition, an Alpaca.
“Yup.” Tony nodded “He came to see Morgan. He’s errr, changed.” “Changed?”
“Yeah, erm, he’s a little bit portly.”
“Portly?” Katie stopped what she was doing until Morgan let out a screech, encouraging her to continue. “As in…” “Fat.” Tony nodded.
Katie snorted “Bullshit…” “Straight up Kiddo. Apparently he’s got his brewers working on a new beer. Clearly been sampling it a little too much.”
“Other than that how did he seem?” Katie asked. Despite herself she couldn’t help but wonder how the man she had once been good friends with was holding up. Tony took a deep breath “Ok, I think. I mean it was a surprise him showing up. I haven’t seen him since, well, that day at the compound.” “He took what happened really hard” Katie sighed. “But the rest of us had to move on, he needs to do the same. I tried to talk sense into him…” “You punched him in the face.” Tony raised an eyebrow. “He deserved it.” “I know.” Tony paused “And for what it’s worth, he hates himself for it. He told me.” “Well maybe he should apologise.” Katie shrugged, and that was the end of the conversation. They stayed for a few hours before heading back to the compound and, given that it was a nice night Katie and Natasha retired to the large garden area and the hot tub for a girl’s night in.
“You talk to Steve today?” Nat asked, pouring Katie a glass of wine from the ice bucket at the side.
“Not yet.” Katie shook her head, turning from where she had been watching Emmy playing fetch with Lucky to look at her “I’ll speak to him later. He’s ready for home though. Keeps moaning about how the chef doesn’t make Mac and Cheese as well as me.”
“He loves it really.” Nat grinned.
“Yeah, he does.” Katie smiled “It’s nice to see him so focussed, you know with something to do.”
“When’s he back? Feels like he’s been gone for ages”
“He has, it’s been almost three weeks this time” Katie smiled, “But he’s home in a couple of days and on that I got a favour to ask. Could you maybe have Emmy for us? Thought we might go out or…” “Or stay in?” Nat raised her eyebrows, smirking.
“Something like that.” Katie snorted.
“Yeah, no probs. We can have a girl’s night in my apartment.” She nodded over to the pre-teen who was running across the lawns. “She’s never any trouble.” “Thanks Nat.” Katie smiled, sipping her wine and pulling a face at the sour taste.
“How’s she been recently?” Nat nodded to Emmy.
“Good.” Katie nodded. “The nightmares have pretty much stopped. She still gets a bit reserved now and then but I think getting her back to school has helped a lot. She’s a bright kid, good at art as well as the technology and science. Should see her and Steve when they get going.”
“Yeah they seem pretty close.” Nat smiled.
“She’s like his shadow when he’s here.” Katie snorted. “I don’t get a look in.” She took another sip of her drink and shook her head. “Does that taste right to you?”
“It tastes fine, but then so did that Tuna you said was off.” “It was off.” Kate grimaced, nodding to the dog that was currently splashing in the shallows of the river, after his ball “Even Lucky wouldn’t eat it.”
“Well I ate it and I’m fine” Nat shrugged.
Katie took another sip shook her face before tipping her wine into Nat’s glass “I can’t drink that. It’s nasty.” “Errr, that is a fifteen year old vintage, stolen from Tony’s old stash in the cellar!” Natasha grinned.
“Don’t give a fuck what it is, it’s gross.” Katie shrugged, standing up and stepping out of the tub. “I’ll stick to the beer.”
She pulled a Bud out of the fridge, twisted the top off and threw it into the garbage. She took a swig as she walked back outside and, as she sank back down into the water, Nat took a deep breath and leaned forward.
“I got an email from Rhodey. More bodies have turned up, this time in Johannesburg, some drugs baron and his cronies.” “Clint?” Katie asked, pausing her beer half way to her mouth as she nodded.
“It’s his MO.”
Over the past six months more and more bodies had been turning up, along with numerous witnesses, which led them to the conclusion that Clint was acting as some kind of vigilante, hunting down Crime Lord Syndicates and taking them down one by one. Natasha at first had point blank refused that it was him, until one of Rhodey’s contacts had sent an extremely clear shot from some CCTV footage. There was no denying, it was Clint. Natasha had been heartbroken, locking herself away and refusing to speak to anyone, emerging only when Steve threatened to kick her door in. She’d opened it, red eyed but with a glimmer of a smirk on her face and called him a “bossy, interfering bastard.”
“Any leads on where he could be?” Katie asked
Nat shook her head “he doesn’t want to be found. But then, when have I ever listened?”
They drank and talked until late in the evening, probably more than they should have done which is why the next morning Katie woke up with a killer hangover and barely made it to the toilet. She threw the contents of her stomach into the bowl before standing up, splashing cold water onto her face and heading to make sure Emmy was up and getting ready. Sometimes, being a responsible adult sucked.
Once she had managed to get Emmy packed off to the summer day-camp her School was running, she grabbed a slice of toast and an orange juice and felt ready to face walking and talking at the same time. She called Steve quickly, who wasted no time in telling her that they’d drunk called him the night before. Katie groaned as he laughed down the handset, before the conversation grew slightly more serious and he said that Rhodey had filled him in on the murders in Johannesburg. They discussed it for a while when he declared he had to go and after promising to speak to him later that evening, sober, Katie cut the call.
She headed down to the common room to find Nat was already in there.
“Hangover too?” Natasha looked at Katie pulling a face. “I feel like shit. How much did we drink?”
“Enough.” Katie sighed “You sank two bottles of that wine, I went through a full crate of bud.” “And that was before the vodka.” Nat groaned, dropping her face into her hands. Katie grimaced, picking up a bottle of water and taking a long drink before they got down to business, looking over some plans for an old School they were intending to acquire to make into a half way hours for the older teenagers that had been left without homes or families in the snap. Too old to be in an orphanage or children’s home, Natasha had pointed out they probably needed somewhere they could live independently, but safely. It was a great idea and one Katie was fully behind.
“I’ll get it typed up into a formal proposal this evening,” Katie nodded to Nat “then we can start the ball rolling. All goes according to plan we can get the Real Estator on the phone tomorrow and push ahead with the purchase”
Nat nodded. “Yeah, about that.” Katie groaned “You’re going to Johannesburg aint you?” “I have to.” 
“Nat…”
“He’d do the same for me.”
“When?” Katie sighed, knowing there was no point in trying to talk her out of it. “This evening. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.”
“Just be careful,” Katie said, “and prepared. Chances are you won’t like what you find.”
“I know.” She said, her eyes tearing over. “But I have to try.” Katie nodded, dropping a hand to her shoulder as she picked up the files and laptop before leaving her to her thoughts.
She was sat in the office working on the proposal that evening when she heard the jet taking off. Glancing out of the window Katie watched as it shot into the grey sky and vanished behind a cloud. Emmy paused to look up from where she was outside on the lawn with Lucky before she tuned to look at Katie, mouthed the universal sign for “I’m hungry” and Katie grinned, deciding to call it quits for the night.
**** Chapter 42 Part 2
41 notes · View notes
skzsauce01 · 4 years
Text
Normal Pt 5
Description: For more skilled maneuvers, dragon shifters need a rider to help them out. After rejecting multiple riders, Hyunjin, a traumatized and handicapped shifter, is assigned to you. To add a cherry on top, you’re deaf, so how are you supposed to cast spells to free him from his limitation, let alone the anger in his heart?
Warning: violence
Word Count: 4.3k
Pairing: fem!reader x dragon!Hyunjin
Pt: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5
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It’s New Year’s eve. Rather than counting down at home, you and about a hundred other riders and dragons are lined up at the edge of a survival course. Unlike your assessments, the Race is across all year levels and does not include proctoring. Once it has begun, you are on your own to defend yourself from more physical competitors and the beasts of the wild until you finish or the day has passed. Only the strongest and fittest take on the feat each year.
‘Ready?’ you ask your partner.
He gives a sharp nod, and hears his professor yelling “Happy new year!” indicating the start of the race. For the first few hours, Hyunjin tries to pull ahead in his dragon form, taking advantage of his natural camouflage, but returns to human form during the day. 
‘Let’s rest here for a bit,’ you write to him after you dismount, knowing how tired he must be after flying all morning. Hyunjin knew the dark is the best time for travel, so he tried not to waste a second of it, albeit from the breaks you forced him to take and the one battle someone engaged you into. Honestly, that person was a fool, challenging a Twilight Terror such as himself, Hyunjin thought haughtily. 
Once human again, Hyunjin collapses onto you.
I told you to tell me when you’re tired! We could have taken more stops! he can imagine you nagging as you drag him towards a hollowed out tree. He lets out a coughy-laugh at his hypothetical dialogue and continues the rest of the walk himself, knowing you too are worn out from using magic nonstop. 
‘I’m going to get some more water,’ you write to him, waving your empty bottles.
‘I’ll come with,’ he replies, getting up from the tree.
You shake your head and force him to sit back down. ‘Rest. The stream’s not far, and I have my daggers.’
‘Well, yell if another dragon spots you.’
You salute him, and he watches your back walk away with a tired sigh. Wearily, he leans back against the tree and looks up for any predators. He doesn’t even notice his vision growing dimmer and dimmer as the winter breeze tickles at his hairs until a voice pulls him out of his slumber.
“Hwang Hyunjin? I finally found you! This forest made it a tad difficult, but no worries.”
The Terror freezes. He knows that voice anywhere. “Lee.”
“Long time no see, my boy. Turns out you were hiding in this academy all along! I should have known.”
Hyunjin turns slowly around to see the man he hates most now with a large scar across a sewn-shut eye that was not there before. In his hand dangles a purple necklace. “You can’t do anything when I’m human,” he snarls.
Lee chuckles. “So what? You’re going to stay like this for the rest of the race? You can’t even survive like that out here, let alone win.”
“How did you get in here anyway? This is a students only event,” Hyunjin hisses.
“How doesn’t matter,” the man hums. “What matters is that I’ve found you now, and it’s only the matter of when you’re going to be mine again. Speaking of which, how’s your new rider? Pretty little thing, isn’t she?”
“You keep your dirty hands off of her!” Hyunjin hollers.
Lee only chuckles at his anger. “Oh, my dear boy. You know that you’re the only one I’m interested in, but if she can help me get to you, then I suppose I don’t mind her company again.”
Again?
“Ever wonder why my dragon isn’t here right now?”
As if on cue, a grey reptile lifts off into the sky. Between its two front paws is you, tied and gagged. Behind your back, your fingers are spelling something.
‘Run!’
Like claws he will! Not when you were attacked by goblins and definitely not now. He unsheathes a knife and makes a long cut along the abdominon of the dragon as it swoops down. It roars in pain and drops you.
Hyunjin dashes over, standing between you and the foe. Lee mounts his pet and again flies towards Hyunjin, grabbing you both between different limbs, and returns to the air. Hyunjin stabs and stabs with his knife, but with his master on his back, the grey dragon’s body is no longer its own. It can roar all it wants, but trumpets of victory is all Lee can hear. 
“So nice to see you again, Miss L/N. I’ve been looking for you too.”
Hyunjin looks at you confused. What business did you have with Lee, and why was he talking aloud to you? However, you are too occupied thrashing around to free yourself to notice your friend.
Knowing you can’t respond to him with your gag, Lee turns to Hyunjin. “So what’s it going to be, Boy? Are you going to transform, or am I going to have to kill this poor, innocent girl here?” he taunts, having the dragon fly higher and higher into the sky. “Guess you can decide on your way down!”
With that, the dragon drops both your and his bodies. Hyunjin knows that it’s all over for him if he transforms, but it’s all over for both of you if he doesn’t. The ground is approaching much faster than survivable. Decide on his way down? There’s only one option given to him, and Lee knows it.
Hyunjin pulls you into his arms, tearing away your gag and mumbling a spell. Lee cackles triumphantly as deep purple scales appear before his eyes. He flies closer to Hyunjin and casts a spell immediately, making him freeze up to prevent him from flying away. However, this means Hyunjin is continuing accelerating downward.
A dragon can survive a fall from this height, but not you who is still wrapped up in his frozen arms. Luckily, there’s one part of him that Lee doesn’t control: his white prosthetic fin. Hyunjin angles it so that he rotates just in time for him to land on his back and uses his belly to absorb your impact.
“How sweet, taking the fall for your savior this time, eh?” Lee teases, walking over to the fallen dragon. Hyunjin can only glare at him uselessly. 
Savior? He doesn’t have much time to think as pain replaces all thoughts when Lee wastes no time on his first incision, this time for a claw. He can hear you singing from between his arms where he has you securely protected between his arms, but it is in vain; even you cannot over power another magician whom a dragon has sworn to. 
“You know, maybe it was a good thing you were rescued six years ago,” Lee hums cockily, inspecting the claw he has just detached from the Terror. “Your parts are even more beautiful now that they’ve matured.”
Rescued? Hyunjin doesn’t remember any of this. One moment he blacked out from pain, and the next, he woke up at this school.
Just then, he hears a voice from above. “Hyunjin?”
On any other day, the Terror would have cursed at that voice, but today, it was music to his ears.
“Oh my claws, that’s Hyunjin!” cries Chan
“Got more friends to help you out?” Lee scoffs. “What are they going to do against a Twilight Terror?”
He forces Hyunjin onto his feet, dropping you to the side and mounting the dragon to which Hyunjin screeches in distress, but before he can see where you landed, Lee has already taken him into the air. From a distance, Changbin is zeroing in on his location.
“Fire.”
Hyunjin watches in horror as a flame erupts from his own mouth towards his friend. 
“Wanna fight?” Changbin roars, narrowly missing the attack.
“It’s my rider’s doing!”
“Rider? I thought you hated riders!”
“He’s why!” 
“Hyunjin!” Chan exclaims once he’s confirmed his identity.
“A prefect, eh? Ooh, I’m really scared,” Lee laughs.
“Where’s Y/N?” demands Chan.
“Somewhere. Don’t care. You can find her now before some wild goblins kill her, or you can try to fight me and end up dead. No guarantee your corpses would be buried together though.”
“And who are you?” growls Chan. He casts his gaze down and sees Hyunjin’s bleeding paw. “Nevermind, I know exactly who you are, Lee.”
“Surprise, surprise! I’m famous! But unfortunately for you, your time to escape unscathed has run out,” Lee snickers, making Hyunjin release another shot of fire. 
“Just find Y/N!” Hyunjin begs his roommate.
“And leave you to this man?”
“Don’t worry, Hyunjin,” Chan calls out as if he can read the dragon’s mind. “Y/N’s not that weak. Just worry about yourself for now!”
Chan avoids another fireball as he talks. Regardless of who’s controlling him, Hyunjin is still Hyunjin, and Chan cannot hurt him. He also knows that any attack he aims at Lee will just be blocked using the Terror’s body. How is he to free him from that man? he ponders, skillfully slanting Changbin to avoid a stream of flames. 
In the midst of his planning, Chan spts something grey in the corner of his eye. He suppresses a giggle when he notices it’s you on the back of Lee’s previous ride with your ability to control other dragons. You are signing a rescue plan to him, and Chan repeats it to Changbin who relays it to Hyunjin discreetly, all the while standing his ground against Lee and keeping everything under the villain’s radar.
Hyunjin wants to yelp happily knowing that you are alright, but he keeps his calm to hide your presence. He gives the slightest of nods when he’s understood the plan, hoping that you can see it. Once you’ve received the okay signal, you jump into action.
Lee is surprised to say the least. You swoop in with his dragon, biting off Hyunjin’s white prosthetic which throws the dragon off balance. Unlike you, Lee has never flown Hyunjin with only half the normal number of fins. He yells curses as his dragon begins to topple, and Chan takes this chance to attack from the front, ripping off Hyunjin’s necklace. 
As soon as he does so, Both Lee and Hyunjin begin their descent to the ground, so Changbin grabs Hyunjin. 
“You won’t succeed again L/N!” Lee curses having spotted you. Since you and the dragon you are riding are nearby, Lee regains control of it, overpowering your magic with his rights as its owner.
“Y/N!” Chan yells, reaching his hand down for you as Changbin swoops in, lifting you away from the reach of Lee. Together, you watch the man ride away with taunts of his return.
“I told them the course wasn’t ready!” Chan scowls as soon as all four of you are back on the ground.
“What do you mean?”
“Remember when I got pulled out of the winter ball?” he both sighs and signs. “There was something wrong with the force field around the course. Force fields are what keeps nonstudents like that creep out of campus, but we were having trouble maintaining the one around this course. I told them we needed more time to fix it, but they insisted that the New Year’s Race can’t be postponed!”
‘Well what are we going to do now?’ you ask. ‘Hyunjin can’t turn into a dragon for even a second, and two humans aren’t going to survive until midnight in this forest.’
“Having three people on a dragon might be dangerous especially with all these battles going on, but we can wait here with you,” Chan offers, and Changbin nods. 
‘We can’t possibly ask that of you. Besides, Lee already has his eyes on Hyunjin. He can’t keep hiding in the school forever.’
“I have a plan,” Hyunjin announces. All heads turn towards him, and he to you with his notepad. ‘I’ll swear to you. It’s the only way you can overpower Lee.’
Changbin agrees, silently surprised that Hyunjin is willing to hand himself to another rider after six years of swearing that it’ll never happen. Chan on the other hand, is surprised at how bewildered you look. Shouldn’t you be ecstatic that he’s finally accepted you?
You grab Hyunjin’s wrist and stare into his eyes. Don’t.
Your partner furrows his brows. ‘Why not?’
You look around and finally back to your partner. ‘Can we talk? Privately.’
Hyunjin nods and excuses the two of you. Once you’re alone, you start writing urgently.
‘You can’t swear to me.’
‘This whole time, I thought I was the one with a problem with it, not you.’
‘It’s just that…’ You bite your lip, unsure of how to tell him. ‘I don’t want to hurt you.’
Hyunjin takes your hand in his. ‘What do you mean?’
‘The first person you’ve sworn to has already hurt you. If I do it too, you’d never recover from it.’
‘Y/N, what are you trying to say?’
You pull your hand back and turn away. ‘I’m not a dragon rider, and I was never intended to be your rider from the day we were assigned to each other,’ you finally confess. 
Hyunjin puts a hand on your shoulder to turn you back his way. You can’t look at him.
‘I’m a dragon trainer. Because I can control dragons that aren’t my own, I’m hired to rehabilitate injured and traumatized dragons such as yourself. After the treatment is complete, I adjust them to a real rider.’
Hyunjin can’t believe his eyes. ‘So what are you saying? All this time, everything we’ve been through together, you did just for a wage? All the things you’ve said to me, were they all just scripts?’ Are all my feelings just bought by money? 
You press his hand down to stop him from writing and shake your head fervently. ‘I sincerely care for every dragon I work with!’
He glares at you.
‘Please believe me…’ You bite your lip. ‘And if it makes you feel any better, I’m not getting paid to work with you.’
‘Then why are you here?’ he scoffs, making you wince.
‘The girl who rescued you from Lee six years ago asked me to be here.’
‘Someone you owed a favor to or--’ He cuts himself off, and his eyes widen into round discs upon realization. How familiar he thought you looked from the start. How you knew his preference for appai berries. The unidentified girl in his flashbacks. How Lee knew who you are earlier. It all adds up. 
“It was you,” he breathes, his voice barely a whisper as memories he tried to repress come rushing back. 
“Why?” he kept roaring. “Why?” 
In his blurred vision, he spotted an pre-teen version of you, Lee’s rider-in-trainning, approaching him with a blade behind your back. 
“Ah, Miss L/N. Have you brought the other scalpels like I asked?”
You nod your head carefully having picked up a sense of what he is attempting. “What are you doing, Master?”
“Let me teach you the real reason we spend so much time befriending these beasts,” Lee chuckled. “Watch!” 
With that, he ripped Hyunjin’s fin clean off, making your heart drum in your ear with fear.
“No!” you cried. You raised your hidden blade, trying to stop your mentor. You succeed, giving him a large gash right across his eye. 
Lee screamed, and his magic faltered for just a moment. You took this chance to approach Hyunjin for his necklace, but all he saw was a person coming at him with a knife. In his fear, Hyunjin released a series of flames. You managed to rip off his necklace right as Lee recovered from the shock and as the dungeon Hyunjin lit on fire began tumbling down on all of you.
And then all was quiet.
The last thing he saw before the world went black was a girl struggling to get a pillar off of him. She was bleeding in the head right where her auditory cortexes were.
‘I was so scared of Lee, I left you at Sheng Academy and ran. I hid and got around with whatever wild dragon I can use to enter local competitions for their prize money and learned to ride without my ears until a rich lady recognized what I can do and paid me to rehabilitate one of her trophy dragons with an amputated leg. My career started after that.’
‘So I’m the one who blew out your ears?’ Hyunjin gasps.
‘That’s not the point.’ You reach up for his cheek as a single tear of guilt slides down. ‘The point is, you don’t want to swear to me.’
‘No, I can and I will,’ Hyunjin writes adamantly. ‘You can leave me, or cut me up; I don’t care. It’s the only way we can get Lee off both our backs.’ 
You disagree. ‘We can break his pendant and release you from your oath.’
‘Nothing can break a magic pendant though.’
‘No, not nothing.’
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“You’re insane,” Changbin decides, demanding that Chan signs it to you which the latter refuses.
‘What are the chances of its success?’ Chan asks instead.
‘It depends on him,’ you answer, motioning to Hyunjin. ‘You need to leave now, or this won’t work.’
‘This… this is too dangerous. I can’t allow it!’ 
You look Chan in the eyes. Your charisma isn’t only limited to dragons. ‘You’re going to have to.’
The oldest male takes your hand and frowns at you. He then kisses the back of one before letting go. ‘Come back to me.’
You don’t answer.
Hyunjin makes sure Chan has left before he turns back to where they have found Lee sleeping on a field. “Okay, here we go.”
You nod and step into the clearing, carefully sliding a blade from your thigh. The winter sunset kisses your hair as you tiptoe towards the man. You let out a low note to keep his dragon asleep and hover over your target. You pull the knife back and bring it down to his neck when a hand catches your wrist.
“You honestly think that would work?” Lee sneers. “Have you learned nothing from your time with me?”
You snarl and jump back.
“Why so shy? It’s just me, Sweetie,” he hums, standing up and spreading his arms out. “But honestly, what were you thinking, coming alone at me with nothing but a dagger? What happened to your other friends? Left you behind to complete the race, I suppose? That is quite typical of prefects; they care about nothing but their image.”
Hyunjin clenches his jaw, feeling oddly defensive for the rider.
He continues. “Not answering? That’s alright. I must admit, it’s rather noble of you to try and save little Hyunjin, but as I always say, noble acts are usually the most foolish ones.”
Lee says something and his dragon awakens. It knocks you to the ground, and Lee bounds you up like before. “Now, let’s hear you scream for your knight in shining armor.”
He takes your own blade and digs it into your shoulder, staining your white coat with red. You bite your tongue and snarl at him.
“Resilient, aren’t you? That’s why I took you under my wing. Well, that and your special ability.” A round kick to the head. “Too bad your heart isn’t nearly as tough. We could have been rich, Miss L/N, we really could have. That Terror could have bought us a whole mansion with a pretty fountain in the front.” Another stab. You can’t hold it this time and let out a cry. “There it is! Good girl,” Lee approves. “You know, it’s not too late. Just give me the Terror, and I’ll let you free! I’ll even take you back and give you your own room in the mansion.” 
Lee sighs at your lack of response and motions at his dragon. It takes a step back and conjugates magic at its mouth for an attack. At this, Hyunjin cannot sit still and watch any longer. With a powerful roar, he flies into the clearing and throws the other reptile into the trees while shooting a fireball at Lee. 
“Oh goodie!” Lee cheers and grounds Hyunjin immediately. He turns to you and pulls on a rope which tugs you up so that you dangle from a tree. “I’ll tell you how this is going to work this time, Hyunjin. I am going to light this tree on fire--” he does so-- “and going to take, oh, just some of your parts. If you cooperate, I might finish in time for what’s left of you to save her before she burns to death! Isn’t that fun?”
Hyunjin roars in protest, but stays still for his master. He keeps his eyes on you as you thrash around in attempts to save yourself from the incoming flames. He doesn’t even feel Lee's knife entering the second part of his tail; all he can hear are your panicked gasps, and all he knows is that Lee is going far too slowly for him to finish on time. Forget his threat, Hyunjin has to break out of his hold now or you’re dead!
But how?
He catches sight of your eyes that are filled with tears from ash irritation and fear of your impending doom. Your gazes lock together and you stop squirming. Slowly, you let a small smile spread over your lips. 
That smile. He has seen that smile before. It’s the one you gave him before saving him from the goblins at your own expense. It’s a smile of gratitude for the time spent together and apologizes for the time you’ve cut short. It’s a smile of hope for him and resignation for yourself. It’s a smile of peace. A smile of acceptance. A smile of farewell.
“Hyunjin...” 
The voice. His name. It’s softer than a feather yet stronger than a storm. It pierces through his heart and awakens something in him. He wants nothing more than to hear it over and over again. From you. From you when you’re happy, from you when you’re mad, from you when you’re excited, from you when you’re alive.
“NO!” he bellows, watching your coat catch its first flames and your body going limp.
Hyunjin wills his front arm to move to crawl to you, and it does. 
“What are you doing?” Lee shrieks as his purple necklace begins to vibrate. “STOP!”
Another step. It’s now enough for Hyunjin to crane his neck up off the floor. 
‘No, not nothing,’ you had told him. ‘A dragon’s loyalty oath puts its master before itself. We just have to find something you want more than Lee when you swore to him. We just have to find something you want more than yourself.’
Hyunjin unflurs his wings and Lee’s necklace shatters into his face, piercing through his brain. This goes unnoticed as only one thought resides in Hyunjin’s mind, body, and soul: hearing you say his name again.
Without either of his tail fins, Hyunjin can no longer fly. He opts to climb through the flames and rip you from the ropes with his jaw. When he succeeds, he falls to the ground and rolls around to put out the flames. 
Hyunjin immediately returns to human form and begins resuscitation on you, ignoring the burns he’d just received himself.
“Come on, Y/N, come on!” he cries. “I did not just agree to your stupid plan for you to die on me!”
He pinches your nose and blows twice, making sure your chest rises each time. On the second one, you suddenly cough, spraying black saliva everywhere. 
“Hyun…” you try before being interrupted with another cough attack.
When you turn back to face him, you see him with the widest smile you’d ever seen. He lets his head collapse onto you and soaks your chest in tears. Weakly, you bring your hand to his head and stroke his hair.
“... jin.”
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‘So this is it then? Really?’
You press a new white frame onto his pendant. The second rising sun of the year casts a glow around the both of you.
Hyunjin sighs and helps you adjust your new white coat around your cast. ‘Your wounds haven't even healed yet.’
‘I’ll be fine. Promise.’
‘I know you can be, but I don’t trust that you won’t do something reckless again.’
‘Touche,’ you laugh. It’s a beautiful laugh. Hyunjin wishes he could record this one. ‘Make sure you graduate, okay?’
‘I won’t let you down,’ he promises. ‘Have you told Chan?’
‘Why would I tell Chan?’
He rolls his eyes. ‘You know he has the biggest crush on you.’
‘He deserves someone who’s not trying to get herself killed every week.’
‘Sounds like my kind of girl,” Hyunjin winks. 
You scoff humorously and toss a red bag at him. He catches it and knows exactly what’s inside. 
‘Good work, Hyunjin!’
He shakes his head and pulls out a piece of paper from his pocket, and unfolds the crumpled parchment. He shows you the back of it which reads ‘Good work’ then folds it before flipping it over so that all you can see is the word ‘friend.’ It’s the note you had given him during your first practice when he asked you who you are.
You place a hand over your heart, touched.
Hyunjin walks over and pulls you into a hug. “Thank you. For everything.”
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~4 years later~
You wipe sweat from your forehead and look up to the new school you had built for disabled dragons and riders alike. There are still a few odds and ends you have to sort out, but you cannot be more excited for the opening. 
Just then, you feel the snap of a twig from someone approaching you from behind. You whip around to confront the intruder, but before you can, he speaks. Or rather, signs.
‘Are you hiring? I have a degree from Sheng Academy,’ the man signs fluently.
Your aggravation melts into joy. 
“Hyunjin!”
--end--
~ ad.gold
150 notes · View notes
taecalikook · 4 years
Text
The Platinum Rules (Finale)
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summary : Taehyung loves you—it’s a fact as obvious as a day. You are the one person he treasure the most, probably even more than life itself. And because he loves you dearly, he is greatly self-conscious that he should let you go. But can he actually do it when he knows he’ll spend a lifetime searching for someone like you? 
{fake relationship! au, fuckboy! au, fratboy! au}
pairing : kim taehyung x reader (spinoff of (Not) Just Friends)
genre : fluff, angst, mutual pining
word count : 24k++
A.N = Read The Platinum Rules part 1 here!
============================
From that last encounter you kissed Taehyung, you do not reciprocate to any of his effort to contact you during weekends. All his calls went into voicemail, and you don’t even read his messages. At one point, you were sure that he was even in contact with your parents because of their missing usual pesky trait—they did not even question your sudden silence for locking up inside your room. 
You did not cry. You really try hard not to. One thing you miss to predict was how easy it is to fall for Taehyung—his caring self who confuses you better than anyone. You were never the type to easily fall for anyone, but he is just another level. It’s not even a month in knowing him, but it's easy to see you have caught deep feelings for him. But it’s a lost case, because since you met him the first time, he clearly stated he does not do relationships. It’s you, you are the only one to blame and there’s no other way than try your hardest in turning your feelings down.
Hence Monday morning, you are hesitating to pack the food you promised Taehyung. You know how awkward it must be, especially after ignoring him all through the weekend—but you know it is inconsistent for you to disregard everything because of your silly feelings. Albeit begrudgingly, you pack the food when suddenly a message arrives.
From : Taehyung
Good morning, sunshine, I hope you are feeling better now! Sorry I cannot pick you up today, need to submit my paper :( Will you attend your 8am? Wanna grab breakfast after? xx
You sigh, glancing dully at the food you already pack for him. 
It’s going to be a long day.
After finishing the 8am class, you walk to his faculty to deliver him the food. You are not sure whether you should stay or leave right after—especially after his last message of wanting to eat together. Regardless, you avidly warn your mind that anything that he does or says, it is all just because he somehow likes you, but only as a friend. You severely need to stop wearing your heart on your sleeve. 
That’s how you wait on the university park you promised him, fidgeting uncomfortably with the bag of food on your grasp. Not long until suddenly your name is called, you look up and find two men walking to your side. It’s Taehyung, eyes sparkling and a wide smile that instantly dries your throat… and Jimin. You did not expect that. What is Jimin doing here?! You really thought the deal between you two must be kept hidden for anyone.
“Hi, Y/N!” Taehyung cheerfully walks to you, throwing himself for the seat next to your side. “I’m glad to see you again. Ah, is that your grandma's food?” He asks in delight, not noticing the nervous gaze you point for Jimin’s presence.
“Hi, are you Y/N? I think I saw you before.” Jimin kindly introduces himself, like you wouldn’t know the identity of the infamous fratboy. “I’m Jimin.”
“Hi Jimin, yes I am her. Nice to meet you.”
“Well isn’t it great to finally meet the one that has been taking up lots of Taehyung time.” He civilly smiles. “I see you’ve been hanging out together.”
You are waiting for Taehyung to rectify Jimin’s misunderstanding, but it does not come so you abruptly answer. “Yup, kinda.” You nod nervously. “Only as friends, though. No worries.” 
Jimin nods in mirth, noticing Taehyung’s glare at your unnecessary confirmation. “Sweetheart, you don’t really have to say that to him.”
Jimin takes a seat beside you. “So, are you freshmen? What major are you in?”
“Yup, a political science freshman.” You nod and smile, all because you really couldn’t hold it back when Jimin is just that friendly with a wonderful eye smile. “I know, it must sound boring, right? Your guess is correct.”
That’s how your conversation continues, and Jimin is surprisingly well informed about your major. One thing led to another, and came into the conversation is your side job as a column writer in one of the renowned media in the city. It is easy to forget yourself among the story about your passion in writing, and that’s how you are unconscious to Taehyung who is now practically glued right on your side, his frowning face resting on your shoulder while he slightly nuzzles on your nape—probably disliking the fact that you are too focused on his best friend instead of him. Jimin nearly falls to the ground, laughing his ass off at how childish Taehyung looks right now, lips pouting like a duck. You are telling him about the hurdles of releasing your latest article, Taehyung blatantly shoos him away with his blazing eyes. And as he doesn’t really want to get on his best friend's bad side, he concludes not to prolong his unwanted stay. 
“That’s really interesting, Y/N! I am really interested in your writing, gonna check it after this!” Jimin kindly compliments, and you blush bashfully. You were never complimented in person other than your editor before, so you don’t exactly know what to do now with your face now. 
“I think I’m gonna go now. May I know your number? Let’s talk over coffee sometimes!” Jimin devilishly asks while offering his phone, definitely intending to push his best friend’s buttons. You are just about to receive it when Taehyung is quick to slap the man’s hand away.
“I’ll give you the number.” He curtly answers, not a hint of entertainment is shown in his face. “Now leave.”
Sensing Taehyung's hostility towards his own thoughtful best friend, you are quick to glare at him. “Jimin, don’t mind him! You can tag along, let’s grab some food!”
Jimin knows that he will probably never live peacefully if he were to accept the offer, but he just can’t resist that one last kick in. “I’d love to…” and as expected Taehyung instantly mouths him a curse word, and then Jimin sends a polite smile at you. “But I have something urgent. Gotta leave now.”
“That’s too bad!” You pout, looking disheartened. Taehyung rolls his eyes.
Somehow, Jimin still has the guts to send you a wink, and Taehyung literally is this close to kicking his own best friend’s ass. “See you soon, Y/N! I’ll text you—that if Taehyung ever will give me your number.”
“Don’t bet on it.” Taehyung hiss under his breath, still glaring at his best friend giving you a small wave that you gladly reciprocate. Fuckers. He never should’ve brought that flirty ass with him.
“I like your best friend.” You mention out of nowhere, and Taehyung’s ears immediately perk up in distaste. “He seems nice. I can’t believe he actually wants to be your best friend without you bribing him whatsoever.”
“Nice? Wow, that’s the furthest word that can explain Jimin. Don’t believe him, Y/N—he is even worse than me.” Taehyung scornfully mutters, deciding to open the lunch bag to ignore the irritation inside his chest at Jimin’s name rolling off your lips. “He could be the worst and you shouldn’t believe him. He was literally hitting on you! I won’t give your numbers to him.”
“I kinda believe he is not hitting on me, Taehyung. I would know, because he is not treating me like you do.” You sarcastically sneer, helping Taehyung to open a few of the lunchboxes you prepared. “And you can give my number to him! I believe he won’t do anything—besides, I am also interested in a few of his points. Could be a great reference to my article.”
“Hey, how come I just knew you are a writer too?” Taehyung frowns, offering you a bite before he begins to eat. You are flustered with the gesture, but welcome it otherwise. “I thought we told each other everything.”
“Ah, that. It’s no biggies! I started it as an interest since high school, then I tried submitting it to a publication company and passed! I like doing it, and it is a good pay too.” You explain after munching on the bite he offered. “It’s not much, but yeah. It’s from my own hand, so..”
“I would love to get some side jobs too.” Taehyung responds, relentlessly offering you another bite. “I never know what it feels to spend the money you worked so hard in. I think I need to find something that pays.”
You quickly tap him in excitement. “You know what? You should make a fake boyfriend business. You’d be great.” You smile, albeit dimly, it was one of your most effective ways of handling difficulties—you joke about it. “I’d give testimonies too, but will need a few percent of your income, bro. Sorry.”
Taehyung thinly smiles, shaking his head. “Nah. I thought about that, but I think that’d be hard.”
“Why?” Your left eyebrows raised. “I thought you wanted to do it.”
“I think I like it because it is you.” He shyly scratches his nape, unable to meet your eyes. “I don’t really want to do it with anyone else. You are great, Y/N, and you make this so comfortable. I can’t imagine the disappointment of knowing there’s no other fake girlfriend who can be as good as you are to me.
Your head literally spins at his sentence, and all you want to do is shout, pleading for Taehyung to stop messing with your head. You hate the fact that he still has that same, great effect on you after the hurtful thing he said—but how can you say it without making a fool of yourself? How can you say it without letting him know that you are an idiot that fell for a fuckboy like him, bad?
A short silence ensues before Taehyung opens another topic. “You know, Y/N, since I watched lots, I mean lots of rom-com lately, I figure that it’s mostly the same. Do you think lots of women are into that cheesy dinner, movie, or walk on a beach for first dates?”
You roll your eyes, pushing the spoon he offered for you to eat for him instead, as he has been giving you too many portions now. “No, I don’t know. And you know I can’t speak on behalf of ‘lots of women’.”
He nods in understanding, then continues. “I see. What bout you, then? Are you into it?”
You suddenly grin at him in amusement. “So are you asking me that, because you want to know about my preference but start with that lame question directed for all women?”
He shrugs carelessly, lips grinning. “Maybe. Just curious. So, are you into it?”
Otherwise, you still answer. “Yup, I do. I think it’s cool. I used to want to go to the beach for a first date, but then I once watched a drama which the first dates are cooking class!” You smile dreamily. “That must be fun, cooking together. Very useful too.”
He nods, humming. “I think everything would be fun if it’s with you.” Taehyung is clearly mumbling to himself, and you hate yourself for still being able to catch it, yet you keep your lips tight.
Another ten minutes of silence. “So… Friday.” Taehyung clears his throat, trying to mask the nerves in his tone. The mood abruptly shifts at the remembrance of Friday last week. “I’m sorry if I was too forward, Y/N. It is confusing, I know.. but I meant every word.”
Meant every word? He must be joking. You look at him with tranquility, no emotion whatsoever. “No, don’t be sorry. It’s my fault too. I never should have discussed it with fuckboys like you whom I already know will always speak ill of relationship and settling down. It’s my fault.”
He knows you probably didn't mean it, but deep down he feels irritated on how you pronounce every word. Like he is at fault for saying what he truly feels. “Yes, that’s correct. I make it straight and clear with everyone—I am not looking for anything else serious. I don’t want to be tied down by anything and anyone.”
Taehyung is becoming defensive—you can feel it. But the annoyance and emotional distress is too much you are unable to hold another rebuttal. “Then maybe you should stop doing anything that might make people get the wrong idea. What would they think if they see you constantly hanging out with a girl, right?”
“What are you talking about?” He asks in deep confusion.
“Didn’t you hear yourself, Taehyung? Did you even hear the things you say to me?” You ironically had to point everything out. You really were not going to discuss this... “What would your flings think if they hear what you say to me, huh? They’d be disappointed, don’t you think so?”
“What—what are you on about?! I don’t care about what they think. That’s absolutely the last thing I care about. And even if they hear, they would understand we are platonic best friends, they would know.”
The word platonic best friends practically stabs you in the chest, the familiar agonizing feeling is a hundred times worse now that he is the one saying it with his own mouth. “Wow. Platonic best friends.” You whisper, swallowing the sour taste in your mouth, to get it right inside your head. Platonic best friends. It’s what Taehyung thinks of you.
“I don’t recall platonic best friends also entails making out in a car and shoving the tongue in each other’s mouth, but go on.” 
Taehyung looks at you weirdly, like you’ve just grown another head. “It’s just a simple, fun, harmless kiss. Why are you making such a big deal of it?”
Wow, how wrong he is because he doesn't know how bad the so-called platonic kiss was messing your head all through the weekend and forward. You hate how every word coming out of his mouth hurt you again and again and you still too stubborn to let it go. There’s no use, why can’t you just accept the cold, hard truth? “Okay, then. Noted. No harm done.”
Taehyung notices that even though you concluded the conversation, both of you are still too deep in emotion of irritation for each other. He sighs at your cold and distant gesture, looking at you tiredly while massaging his temple.
“What do you want from me, Y/N?” 
You turn to him and scoff. “What I want from you? Huh, that’s fun.” You fake enthusiasm, looking at him with a sardonic smirk. “I want you to stop crossing that ‘platonic best friend’ border. Stop confusing everyone. Don’t say things platonic best friends would not tell each other. Tell your friends straight that we are not dating. Don’t depend on your ‘platonic best friend’ your whole life like you mean it. And let’s not kiss. Just do everything like what we promised to do—in front of my parents.” You are now this close to bawl your eyes out, the familiar sting is appearing. “Or you know what? We don’t even have to do that anymore.”
Stop confusing everyone? More like stop confusing you. You are the one that needs clarity, but you throw that on him. Seeing the shock coloring his face, the guilt finally kicks in. You don’t mean it like that, you know his mind is assuming the furthest thing from what you actually mean. You are close to apologizing, but you know it’s what you desperately need. It’s better to make him hate you now, so you can try to move on without the ugly, unreciprocated feeling inside your chest.
Taehyung grins, pain written all over his face. “You really do not want to be perceived like that with me, huh.. Do you really care about what anyone thinks about us that much? Let them think what they want to think—I don’t give a fuck.” 
You can’t believe that Taehyung still hasn’t gotten the idea that this all is what you do to protect your heart from the damage caused by his affectionate self. But you tighten your lips, not wanting to correct him and make a fool of yourself. It’s good as it is—let him assume anything he wants. As long as you can finally breathe without hurting again.
“You know what? You got it.” Taehyung suddenly stands up, eyes glistening and face turning red with fury and emotion. It’s the first time you saw him so upset and nearly in tears, and your chest clenched at the thought that you’ve hurt him greatly. “Just do whatever you want, Y/N. I don’t care.”
And then he left you alone, with the lunchboxes of food he barely touched. One realization kicks in, and you could not hold back a wince along with tears raining on your parade. You don’t know it would hurt that much to protect your heart.
It’s really the end, is it?
*
It’s been two weeks since that one last rendezvous that ended with a great fight with Taehyung, and that you haven’t had a single contact with him ever since. Now that you have no other business, you would go to university only for classes, and directly head home after. The finals were starting a week ago, and albeit hard, you are glad it kinda took most of your time and concentration so you don’t have to dwell on the fact that you lost someone so precious—just because you couldn’t hold your exhaustive feeling back. But you couldn’t lie that every night before sleep, you would stare at your ceiling and held back the tears, the betrayed face of Taehyung would always haunt you. Then come along with the concern if he is sleeping well, if he doing well, if he eats well, and if he was just as distraught as you were.
Your parents also had been noticing that their daughter was too silent to be true, but when they tried asking you about it, you just shrugged and confirmed that it’s nothing they should worry about. They thankfully were out of your space after, and you were more than jubilant for their rare understanding. They did not also ask about Taehyung—which was kind of surprising, but you are most absolutely not complaining and did not ask any further.
What successfully made you go through all agonizing two weeks is your strong will for your study, and finals were held since last week. Being so out of character, you start studying right after that spat with Taehyung, just so you can busy yourself and try thinking about him less. Albeit not working as effectively as you thought—you drift away too much to be proud of—but it was a great distraction. Now that it is finished, you are in faze, confused and not knowing what else to do.
That’s how you end up sleeping right after your last final test on Friday morning, and then wake up exactly 7pm to the sound of your phone ringing, signaling a new incoming message. You cannot even deny that you foolishly wished it to be Taehyung messaging you right now, but the thought was quick to be discarded as it turns out to be an unknown number. You sigh in faint disappointment, before reluctantly opening the said message.
From : Unknown Number
Hi, Y/N! It’s Jimin :) hope you still remember me. We are having a frat party to celebrate finals, starting at 9pm. Do come, we’d be glad to see u here! 😚
You re-read the message again and again, until it finally dawns on you. It’s Jimin, Taehyung’s best friend that is now asking you to come to their frat party—which also means he would be there too. And how did Jimin get your number? Did he somehow get it from Taehyung? But you were positive Taehyung already redacted all of your information and traces you were ever in his life, all because what a jerk you have been to him. You are hesitating. Did Jimin know that you are no longer in contact with Taehyung?
The name of your fake boyfriend suddenly reminds you of his smile, his kind words, and the amazing thing he has done for you—and it literally rubs the salt on the fresh wound inside your heart. You miss him terribly, and the thought of seeing him again after two weeks hurts and excites you simultaneously. You know it is literally a bad recipe for disaster—you should just stay back and get some sleep—but how long will you avoid all kinds of socialization because of your heartbreak? It’s no longer about him. You miss your friend, you miss the euphoria of partying, and you miss your freedom when he was just a nobody. You miss having a warm body close to you, pleasuring you in no other way could.
And that’s how you decided to pack your maroon halter dress with a black pumps that accentuate your ass, and say goodbye to your parents and that you’ll stay the night with your friends to celebrate finishing finals.
You are determined. Today, you are going to party so hard you’ll forget Kim Taehyung ever existed.
*
After getting ready to go to Jimin’s frat party in Yuri, your same-major friend’s dorm, you take a look again at yourself in front of the mirror. You quickly shift again the dress to stop at your knees, but it quickly rises again due to the short length. Sighing, you slightly regret to go with this dress you even forgot buying before—it could be the present from your friends, it must be. You also cringe at the amount of cleavage showing from the peek of your dress. Regardless of not being too obvious, but it is still too revealing for your own standard.
“Hey, you look perfect, honey.” Seungyeon smiles in encouragement, noticing the insecurities painted on your face. “This is the day we’ll free our mind from literal hell called finals, and get drunk to our heart's content. Lighten up!”
“Let’s go, I think the party has started.” Yuri mentions, grabbing her purse. You hesitantly walk out, seeing Minho, Yuri’s boyfriend is already waiting in front with his car. You don’t really know why there must be a car when her dorm with Jimin’s dorm is just two hundred metres away, but after walking with these thorny heels, you agree with her choice.
Arriving in front of the loud ass dorm’s door, you heave a deep breath repeatedly, gradually getting nervous ever since you step out of Yuri’s dorm. It’s not really you—you are always confident with these kinds of parties and know it like the back of your hand. What is making you nervous? Even your subconcious know the answer too well—it’s because of a certain Kim Taehyung.
You already calculated every possible scenario of meeting Taehyung again, and the most plausible one is for him to ignore you for the whole night and you decided to trash yourself until you found someone to sleep with tonight, the end. You wince, noticing how you despise the thought. Not that you are against it, but you are not really the one to go after one night stands—you even promised to put yourself away from these fuckboys radar—but the pain inside your chest is overmuch and what you desperately need is a good fuck that you will not remember the pain you caused yourself of Taehyung.
When you enter the dorm, it is already blazing with beats, the sounds of cheers are heard nearly every corner. You try to lock your gaze straight ahead, holding back the desire to explore every corner to see Taehyung and what he is doing. One thing you force inside your mind is that he must be with his girls, and it is useless to even search for him—it’s going to hurt you and nothing else. Tonight, you need to focus on yourself.
“Let’s get some drinks!” Seungyeon shouts in delight with Yuri, while you walk behind them to follow to the kitchen where the alcohol is served. You expertly pour whiskey on your glass, quickly sipping on the liquid and closing your eyes. Albeit cheap alcohol, at least the sensation of it leaves on your tongue is still delightful. 
“Y/N! You’re here!”
You look back, finding Jimin with his usual wide smile walking to you. You rest your drinks, walking up to receive his surprising hug. “I’m glad to finally see you again here!”
“Yup-yup. Me too, Jimin.” You answer with an awkward smile. “Thank you for inviting me. The finals are rough, I’m glad I can finally drink the pain away.”
Jimin giggles, showing his cute moon creases eyes and you can’t help but to sincerely laugh with him. “I’m happy too! Hey, I gotta go. Talk to you later, okay?”
You hum in agreement, and when Jimin has disappeared in the crowd, Seungyeon is quick to hit you in the shoulder, her eyes opening in glint. “Hey! Since where are you close to Jimin?!”
At the question, you are caught off guard. What should you say? That you have a fake boyfriend for the sake of making your parents happy and it is Kim Taehyung? Even saying like that you even have a hard time believing it. “Yup. We just met through a mutual friend.”
Luckily your friend buys your lackluster explanation, especially when Yuri is heard to call both of you “Hey girls! Minho is asking us to join them! Let’s go.” 
Right when you are about to say yes, the corner of your eyes immediately catches someone so familiar, the one you have tried avoiding with all your heart, with a girl glued on his side, chuckling their heart away. It’s Taehyung. 
His right arm is around the girl’s slim waist, while her face is just a whisper away from his earlobe, whispering something that causes the glint of amusement in Taehyung’s face. The image quickly hammers you directly in the chest, and it feels like someone just stabs your heart. Here you are, two agonizing weeks trying and failing miserably just to get him off your head while he is out there living his best life, fucking girls like he never says how special you were to him. But who are you kidding? Are you seriously thinking he means everything? You must be dumber than you thought.
That’s how you quickly change your mind to your friend’s offer. “No, I think I need more drinks. Gonna join you guys later.”
Seungyeon nods in hesitance, realizing of your sudden change in demeanor but does not say a word. “Okay. Join us soon, Y/N.”
You hum, and after they left you alone in the kitchen, you rest both of your palm on the sink, lowering your head to let the tears fall without ruining your makeup. Fuck, now everything is a mess. You seriously thought you were mentally prepared to see Taehyung again back on his fuckboy activities, but how wrong you were. You are still hurt and  the irrefutable fact that you still like him makes your blood boils. You hate being weak for someone who doesn’t deserve your once of care.
“Hey. Are you okay?” 
You suddenly look up, noticing your vision has turned hazy due to the tears welling up in your eyes. You swiftly wipe them with a tissue, and notice that it is Hoseok standing in front of you. You put up a forced smile for reassurance. “I’m fine. Sorry, I know I am being weird at your party.”
“Hey, you’re not the first. I just want to check why a pretty girl such as you is doing alone in the kitchen.” He smiles widely, showing the pearly whites that are so contagious you have to smile as well. “Are you okay?”
You wince. Do you really have to lie for this one? Hoseok is a stranger, so there should be no issue in telling him what really is going on in your mind, right? And you are literally crying, it’s obvious you are not okay. “Not really. I kinda feel the worst right now.”
“What happened? Just broke up with your boyfriend?”
You bit your lips at his statement, because something inside of you just wants to share your feelings and thoughts to someone, albeit a stranger—that’s just how desperate you are. The fact that you have been caging it inside your chest for the whole two weeks really frustrates your whole being. “Not really a breakup, but you can call it like that.”
Hoseok smiles, patting your shoulder and squeezing it encouragingly. “You know what? I think you are a strong girl. I don’t know much about you, but I can tell just that. You’ll get through this. He is probably a jerk who doesn’t know what he’s missing. It’s his loss.”
“Well, it’s hard to say. Since he clearly states that he is not looking for anything but short fun.” You say involuntarily, still not knowing why you have to explain it in detail to someone you just know. “I just think that after a month hanging out, and how he did anything he shouldn’t do for just anyone else, I thought I was kinda special you know?” You wince at your desperate words. God, you must have sounded like a stuck up, delusional helpless bitch.
Hoseok nods in clear understanding. “Wow, that’s a lot to process. Do I know who this guy is? Does he go to this college too?”
You solemnly chuckle, sipping on your drinks. Ironic. “You know him so well. Too well, I think.”
Hoseok eyes glint in amusement. “Wow, I see. So, you wanna drink outside and talk? Might make you feel better.” He kindly offers, and you raise your left eyebrow. It was out of your expectation for him to be treating you with such care. “I know it’s weird and we just know each other. But somehow I just feel like I can’t leave you like this. You can reject it if you’re uncomfortable.”
“Really? You just want to listen to me talk about my annoying love problems, just like that?” You look at him weirdly, and he shrugs. 
“Kinda? I am not really busy, might as well listen to your ‘annoying love problems’. Besides, I’m only letting you know this—there is going to be a surprise in nearly midnight. I wanna lay low to prepare myself for that.” He giggles, pouring him another drink and offering to yours. You nod, directing your glass.
“Really? Not so you can take advantage of a heartbroken girl and get something-something instead?” 
He holds his hand to his chest, faking a shock. “I—I’m not like that!” and then he continues with a cunning grin. “But feel free to, if you want. Who am I, a mere mortal to refuse a kiss from such a pretty girl like you?”
You giggle at his exaggerating words, and follow him to the outside of the frat, walking to take a seat on the wall patio—you remember this, the exact place Jungkook confessed to your best friend. The heartfelt, one-of-a-kind moment that literally leaves you breathless just listening to it. You know you are sincerely happy for them, yet involuntarily you are slightly envious. Will you ever get someone who loves you like that? And now you are stuck liking a fuckboy. Damn.
“You look beautiful, by the way.” Hoseok smiles charmingly, right after both of you are safely seated. You look up to him in questions. “It’s nothing—I just think it would be a crime not to compliment someone this beautiful.”
You sneer at his flirtatious words, but are unable to hold back the smile. “Thank you, Hoseok. You don’t look so bad yourself.”
“So, tell me about this jerk. No worry, you can censor the guy if you are uncomfortable.” Hoseok continues, still with his trademark wide smile. You chuckles, then proceed to tell him the story of you and Taehyung with lots of things censored—mostly the things you feel inappropriate to talk to him, especially Taehyung’s secret and stories. And just talking to him makes you realize Hoseok could be the greatest listener ever. He doesn’t rebut, just sit there while attentively listening to your stories while giving his short opinion once in a while. 
The night is relatively warm, but the thing that makes you anxious while talking is how uncomfortably short your dress is, especially while sitting on a freaking patio wall. Hoseok must have noticed your gesture, and voluntarily discards his jacket and settles it on your lap. You mutter your small thank you and smile, before he asking you to continue the story.
“So, somehow by your story, I get that you like this guy who I think likes you, but is allergic to relationships?” Hoseok asks and you quickly shake your head in shame.
“No! It’s not it—but I still don’t know if he likes me or not. I just… I just assume that way.”
“But he told you he is the most comfortable with you and wants to be selfish until you find someone else.” Hoseok snorts, disliking the fact that he has to say that to himself. “I don’t really know this guy, Y/N, but he sounds like a jerk that needs a fact check. How can someone be so in denial?”
You fidget your fingers. “But there is a chance he doesn’t like me—”
“If what you’re saying is true, I don’t think he’s playing. He might even like you, Y/N. He does.” Hoseok firmly states. “I know this guy is insensitive as hell, but maybe he needs that one fact directly on his face? I know that it may not make sense—but you haven’t really confessed, Y/N. You are beating around the bush, and this guy may be dense as hell and need that straight to his face.”
You groan, listening to something that definitely has passed your mind before, but now directly hearing it from someone else is making it real. “Why? Why would I voluntarily hurt myself when I know there is no chance in hell this guy even wants to be in a relationship?”
Hoseok rests his palm on your knees in a soothing manner. “I know it doesn’t make sense—but it’s not for him. It’s for you.” You stare at him back, waiting for him to continue.
“If you don’t confess, you’ll always wonder, Y/N. And based on what you just told me, this feeling you have is quite exhaustive and has a great effect on you which is not really good for your well being. At least, let him close the door on the possibility of being together, and then you’ll know you tried your best? Trust me, I learned it the hard way. You don’t have to repeat my mistake.” He calmly says.
Five minutes spent only with you staring at Hoseok intently that involuntarily makes him blush. “W-what is it? Is there something on my face?” 
“Yup. Handsomeness. You’re very attractive, do you know that, Hoseok?” You ask him seriously, and Hoseok is literally too shocked at your forwardness that he nearly falls off the patio wall. “And you are such a great listener. God—how can someone be so perfect?”
Hoseok quickly grabs on the glass of whiskey you have consumed all through the night, finding it now empty. He hisses. “Y/N, don’t say that. You are drunk, and it’s not you right now speaking.”
“It’s me! I’m not drunk. I don’t get drunk, Hoseok. Ever!” You chuckle delightfully, feeling your body and mind are light. Yes, you may be drunk, but it is not till the point you are losing a grip. You are still well aware of the whole situation, even if it's no longer the same sober, shy you. It’s a ten times braver you now in control, and you are happy this side of you are now in control. 
You suddenly hug Hoseok, resting your face on his shoulder with your front body is now pressed to his side. “Hey, can we kiss?”
“What?!”
You clack your tongue, frowning in disdain. “I hate that I always think about that bastard’s kiss. Can you kiss me now and help me forget about it?”
“Y/N, you are not you right now, stop—” 
Ignoring his warnings, you still proceed to teasingly bite Hoseok’s earlobe, your lips slowly kissing down to his nape trailing down to his collarbone. You don’t know what you are thinking—you must have lost your mind to be this brave. But it really feels good to have Hoseok next to you right now, caring about you with his mindful words and compliments. You miss that feeling of being needed, desperately wishing for every conflict inside your head to just stop.
“Y/N…” 
Your lips then rest on Hoseok’s collarbone and suck on it like there’s no tomorrow, his appreciative moan is now heard like music to your ears. It is easy to detect that he is blown away, already far inside pleasure to stop you. But when your fingers shift to open his button, Hoseok quickly stops your hand going further.
“Y/N, no. Let’s not go there. We can kiss, but no further than that.” Hoseok firmly says, more to himself. You are drunk and vulnerable, and he is not taking an advantage of that, no matter how much he is turned on right now. He is not a monster. 
You nod still with a frown of dislike for Hoseok’s limitation, resting your palm on his face and pushing yourself closer to him if it’s even possible, pressing his lips with your own. But just after your lips are touching his supple ones, a booming voice is heard from the inside of the dorm, and even your drunken mind can identify who it is calling your name with such anger. Fucking Kim Taehyung.
“What?!” You spit back in the same amount of anger, looking back to Taehyung who is now striding towards you and Hoseok. Looking at the scene, Taehyung is easy to detect your smeared red lipstick on Hoseok’s nape, down to his collarbone which he can detect reddening hickey, and Taehyung really feels his blood boil. He shoves Hoseok away from you, completely flabbergasting the unknowing man.
“What the fuck, Taehyung?!”
Taehyung doesn’t even mind the guy’s bewildered question, focusing on you instead. He can vividly smell the strong scent of alcohol radiating from you, and instinctively scrunch his nose. “Y/N, what are you doing, getting drunk and making out with Hoseok at this time of the night?”
“What the fuck do you care?!” You hiss, pushing him away in disgust. You are about to head for Hoseok and leave the angry man. “Stop following me, ‘platonic best friend’. I can do whoever and whatever I want, don’t stop me.”
Taehyung firmly holds you back by the waist while you try to shove him away. Hoseok really is about to help you, but he is quick to understand the fact that the man that has been bothering your mind is indeed his frat brother, Taehyung. That’s the reason he quickly left the scene with no further question asked.
“Y/N, stop doing this, please.” Taehyung begs, and you are literally too weak to fight against his strong effort of stopping you. “I know it’s nothing, you can do anything you want. But, not now. Not like this.”
At his words, you suddenly burst to tears. It’s really hard to see him again right now, exactly when you are doing your best effort to forget him. “I don’t want to see you. I hate you..”
Taehyung winces, but otherwise smiles. “That, we can agree. I hate myself too.”
You scrunch and shake your head, slightly drunkenly. Your finger jabs to his firm chest. “No, don’t hate yourself. I am the one who is supposed to hate you.”
Taehyung looks at you warmly, his eyes drinking your appearance like it’s never enough. Oh, how much he misses seeing you again. You are possibly the best thing that ever happened to him, and you can’t even imagine how struggling he is for the past two weeks. He felt angry, dejected, he tried everything to get you off his head, yet he couldn’t. Nothing feels right. No amount of drinks, or girls could par to the moment when he had you beside him, talking to you animatedly and seeing you be happy. He really tried his hardest to suppress the feeling, because you told it yourself. You want him to stop. You want him away.
“You are an idiot.” You sob, now move and circle your arm around his waist, closing your eyes. Taehyung can feel his heartbeat rapidly rise, your face just inches away from him. “I hate you. You are an idiot. How can you do this to me…”
Exactly ten minutes staying with you and his arm, Taehyung finally concludes after you are now weak, brain soaked in alcohol. “Let’s get you home.” Taehyung whispers, trying to get you to move, which fails miserably because you instantly fall on your knees and scrape your skin. You wince in pain which shoots to your twisted ankle, all because the godforsaken pumps that have been killing your feet ever since you wore it. 
Seeing you crying in pain, he immediately looks down to check on the injured ankle. Noticing that albeit not concerning, you are still unable to walk on your feet especially with those silly heels you are wearing. He instantly scoops you to get on his back. Noticing that your mini dress has ridden right to your upper leg, he effortfully squats to grab a shirt laid on your before, which high possibility belonged to Hoseok due to the distinctive brand. He hiss, then uses it to hide your exposed thigh. 
“Y/N, don’t get drunk again and wear anything like this again. Such hassle.” Taehyung sincerely begs, but you are far too drunk, the amount of alcohol in your blood has completely taken over your consciousness—you become sleepy. “Let’s go.”
Taehyung really doesn’t have any other mind or care other than taking you far away from his frat, so that’s how he decided to piggyback you to his car while carelessly passing inside his frat house which was filled with people animatedly enjoying the party. That’s also exactly how people literally stop whatever they are doing, instead paying all of their attention to the peculiar person piggybacking someone else crossing the room. 
With not much thought, Taehyung carefully rests you on the passenger side of his car, securely putting on the seatbelt while you mumble incoherent things, eyes still fluttering closed. Looking at your serene sleeping face, he is unable to bite back a smile—probably the first sincere smile he had since two weeks ago. He carefully tucks you in, caressing the side of your face carefully not to wake you up, before closing the door. 
He is about to walk to the driver side, right when someone hastily walks out of the frat house and yells at him. Jung Hoseok.
“Hey, where are you taking her?!” Hoseok shouts, and Taehyung annoyedly rolls his eyes and decides to ignore the older man. He takes a seat and about to drive off, but when his eyes detect something unwelcome is still placed inside his car, he quickly grabs the item and throws it to Hoseok.
“Thanks, but it is unnecessary.” Taehyung smirks, flipping the man off before getting ready to drive off. Hoseok huffs in disbelief, walking to grab the pavement, where Taehyung carelessly throws his high branded jacket. 
“Fuck you, Taehyung you ungrateful bastard! This is Balenciaga!”
*
Deciding that it would be greatly improper for him to take you back to your parent’s place drunk, injured and wearing an unconservative dress, Taehyung decides to bring you to his new apartment downtown, near Han River. It was quite a shameful road as well, to be bringing a drunk, injured girl back to his apartment—he has to endure the judgemental looks thrown at him, but he really doesn’t give a shit about those judgemental minds.
He carefully lay you back on his bed. There’s no other furniture here beside his bed, widescreen plasma TV with xbox, a small couch and his closet, since the movers are going to move the rest of the furniture tomorrow. That’s how he has to lay you back on his comfortable, plain white bed with his favorite grey fur blanket—which he admittedly bought after that time of your first encounter of staying the night in your apartment and using your comfortable blanket.
After seeing you are well rested on the bed, Taehyung grabs a medicine box that is placed on the corner of his room, courtesy of his building’s super. He grabs few of the requirements; bandages, cold ice for compress, and few of the ointment Jungkook mentioned before when he was injured during sports. Still in his tight ass jeans, he forces himself to try in tending your injury, all so careful like he is taking care of a newborn baby. Once in a while you would frown, groan when the pain shoots up, but finally the job is done, your ankle is now bandaged and waiting to heal while you are still mumbling, your face buried on the pillow. 
Taehyung looks at you in silence, before a smile reaches his lips. “You baby.” He affectionately scolds, flicking his fingers to your forehead. You whimper, pouting while massaging your forehead. 
“Stop interrupting me. Aaah why is this so tight—” You complain in frustration, suddenly raise up and zipping off your tight dress. 
At your sudden, unpredictable motions, Taehyung is quick to jump outside of the bed, running to his closet to grab a shirt and pants for you to wear, throwing it to you, still not opening his eyes. “Wear this.” He says nervously with his cheeks blazing red.
A few adequate seconds, Taehyung spins, expecting you to be safely secured wearing his plain t-shirt, but instead you are still in your black lacy bra and underwear, now zooming off to dreamland. He hisses still bashful, walking up to you and motioning you to sit up. 
“I’m sleepy, don’t bother me..” You refuse with a pout, but the more seconds pass, the more red Taehyung is. He is trying to focus on the task on hand, scoops you right by a hand on your back, helping you to wear his shirt. You instantly laid back in his bad, probably already zooming off to dreamland.
A few minutes pass, Taehyung spends only by admiring your existence now in front of him, wearing his shirt. He never liked it before—women wear his shirt, especially his favorite celine one you are wearing right now in your sleep—but he seriously thinks you look better with it than he does. How can you be so effortlessly pretty is beyond him. But who is he kidding? You are different, he should’ve known. You literally are the only girl who successfully made him break his platinum rules only in a span of 24 hours—you are just that special.
Realizing that it is improper for him to sleep beside you—supported by the fact that you are drunk and was literally furiously angry with him before, Taehyung decides to use the small couch as his place to sleep tonight; no matter how tired he is throughout the day, especially carrying you nearly all the way to finally rest peacefully. He is about to exit the room, when your fingers clasped on his wrist to hold him back.
“Where are you going?” You whispers, your eyes are gleaming solemnly. It successfully made something stir inside him—regret, hate and pain. “Are you leaving me?”
“No, of course not. I’ll be outside, Y/N. Get some rest.” He responds softly, caressing the side of your face. He cannot understand what he is feeling by seeing how broken you look right now. Why are you this sad? Do you hate him? Are you ashamed of him? He really wants to know yet simultaneously despise finding out if it will only hurt him. 
“Can’t you stay?” You whisper, the tears are already lounging in the corner of your eyes. “I know you don’t like me, Taehyung. You may hate me too—but can you please stay? This once?”
“What are you—why would I hate you, Y/N…” He calmly explains, even if in his head he is in war. How could you think he hated you? He is the furthest from hate for you, that’s for sure. He likes you so much, even after the hurt you caused him when you closed him off and refused him that day. He will always adore you.
“Stay.” You plead. “Stay here.”
And looking at your eyes now desperately pointed at him, how can he refuse? Carefully climbing up his bed, he takes the farthest side of the bed, careful not to make physical contact with you. All because he couldn’t believe himself around you, and how crazy you make him.
Taehyung is trying hard to close his eyes—with his heartbeat still echoes on his ear—but still failing so. He turns to steal a glance at you, and finds that you are not sleeping anymore, instead staring at him. He immediately squirms at the intensity of your gaze.
“You know, you should get some sleep, sweetheart. Your head must be killing you in the morning.” He advises, now braving himself to look back at you. “I hope some food and aspirin can cure it. I’ll buy it first thing in the morning.”
“Do you care about me?”  
At that sudden question, Taehyung is taken aback, but instinctively nods without further thinking. “Of course. I care about you so much. I care about you the most in this whole world.”
“Are you lying?” You innocently ask and Taehyung chuckles in amusement, shaking his head.
“What do you think of Hoseok? Does he care about me?”
Taehyung instinctively hisses, rolling his eyes at the mention of the annoying man’s name out of your lips. “Why would he care about you? He only wants to sleep with you and never call back the next day. You deserve more than that.”
You pout and shake your head. “But when I kissed him he said he doesn't want to sleep with me while I’m drunk. He must be nice, right?”
At that thought, Taehyung feels his throat dry. Yes, Hoseok could be one of the brothers he respected the most. He is kind, hard-working and respectful with everyone. But at the thought of the previous kiss you shared with him, Taehyung is unable to hold back the shock and betrayal—like a ton of bricks falling at his chest. He hates the thought so much he would do anything to erase the image in his head. But how can it explain it to you without sounding like a weirdo? He doesn’t even understand his feelings.
“He is nice..” Wow, he doesn’t even know it would be that hard. “But I think you can do better.”
You sigh, closing your eyes tiredly and Taehyung never felt more like an idiot before. “I don’t think I can do better. I don’t have many options, unlike you. I know it must be easy for you to be wanted by so many girls. I bet you are over the moon.”
Taehyung frowns at your easily detected sarcastic statement. “Not really. I don’t know why everyone thinks like that.”
You look at him with indecipherable expression. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t think they make me happy.” Taehyung hesitantly asks, uncertain whether he is able to say what he really wants to say without sounding like an idiot. “They left me in hollowness, I think. I always feel… like the worst person ever after. At one point I even ask what the fuck am I doing with my life..”
At his sincere confession, you reach out to rest your palm on the side of his face. Taehyung instinctively leans to your touch and closes his eyes, savoring the warmth engulfing his being, right from head to toe. He doesn’t know what magic you did to him now that you are able to comfort him without even doing a thing. “You are confused, but nevertheless are doing the best you can. You just need to make better choices from now on. It’s okay..”
You know it doesn’t probably say much, but your sentences literally make him struggle to handle the tears. To hear it from someone that matters the most could be the most rewarding thing he ever received in life. “You are seriously heaven sent. I don’t know what I would do without you.” He whispers calmly, turning his face to peck your palm.
You sigh, lips pouting at him. “Stop confusing me, you bastard.” 
“What—”
“Stop making me feel special if you don’t mean it to be. I have feelings too.” You mutters, now eyes are reddening in tears. “You don’t understand what you have done to me. You confuse me, Taehyung.”
The response is already at his tongue, but he doesn’t know what’s holding him back. Probably the fact that he can’t even say anything coherent to you right now. Or the fact that you have turned your back on him.
That night, Taehyung is left with his own, agonizing thoughts. 
What do you mean by that?
*
The morning has finally arrived, you wake up groaning, feeling the sudden pang on your head due to too much drinking. Your tolerance is usually pretty low, so it’s even a surprise you manage to confidently consume the amount you drank yesterday. You must be that stressed about finals—or Taehyung.
You glance to the front of you, noticing the empty white walls that are greatly unfamiliar with. You shoot your head down, noticing a familiar blanket on your grasp but—what the fuck are you wearing right now? Taehyung’s favorite white overpriced Celine shirt, with no pants worn. You are trying to move, and the pain in your ankle suddenly shoots up and you wince. What the fuck happened last night?
And… whose arm is now safely secured on your waist?
You try looking back slowly, finding the face of the man that literally catch your breath. It’s Taehyung. It’s literally Taehyung, deep in his sleep with his head buried on the pillow, his arms safely tightened around your waist and his chest is glued on your back. Fuck, what did you do last night?! 
Suddenly, the memory comes back like a train wreck. You picked up a maroon tight dress. You walk inside Taehyung’s frat. You cry because you see Taehyung with a girl. Hoseok came and console you. You… you made out with him. Taehyung finds you and gets you home, but then you sprain your ankle due to your pumps. Yet after that, all memories are in pieces you had a hard time putting it together. You wince, cursing your idiocy.
Probably aware of how fidgety you have been inside his arms, Taehyung stirs in his lips, his eyes reluctantly opened to find you are still there. He mumbles, closing his eyes as he buries his face inside your hair. “Good morning.”
You sigh, feeling severely confused at his sudden affectionate gesture. Just last night you were agonizing over whether you wanted to break the two weeks record of not contacting each other, but one day you wake up and are sleeping together—hopefully not in that way. What happened?
“Good morning, Taehyung.” You answer while trying to pronounce it calmly, trying your best not to kick his arm away from you. You really do not want to overthink it. “I need to use your toilet.”
Taehyung nods, but is yet to release the strong grip around you. You clear your throat, cheek turning red. “Your arm, please.”
“Ah, yes. Sorry.” He mutters, instantly distancing his arm. You jump and stride to the toilet with the pants laid on your side as fast as you can with the sprained ankle. Look at your messed up make ups—smudge mascara and eyeliner, uneven foundation, your smeared lipstick! You didn't even wash it yesterday, looking literally like a mess. How can Taehyung be able to see you and not puke?
Two minutes of washing your face and mouthwash due to the reeking smell of alcohol, followed by five minutes of  pep talk in front of the mirror, you walk out to the smell of cooked omelette. The scent immediately gurgles your starving stomach, and you realize you haven’t been eating even before you drank last night. Not a surprise, though, since it is not the first time you being literally a living, forgetful idiot. 
“You cook.” You mutter the oh-so-obvious fact, and Taehyung beams at you, gesturing for you to take a seat.
“I just thought since you or your family has been very kind and offered me free food, I should try to at least repay it. I know it may not be that delicious, but I made soup and omelette. Hope you are hungry.” He smiles and you nod hesitantly, but following his orders regardless of the confusion.
“Taehyung… What happened last night?” You ask slowly when Taehyung is still stirring the pot. “Did… did I do something stupid?”
Taehyung shakes his head. “Well, besides getting drunk, making out with one of frat boys and injuring your ankle? Not much.”
You hiss, knowing that now it literally made sense how dangerous you are while intoxicated. It’s better to avoid those parties—better buy some alcohol and drink alone inside your room. “I know that, but other than that. Did we.. Did we do something? Or did I say something idiot? If I did, you know I probably did not mean it—it’s just a drunken thought.”
“Not really.” He smiles in assurance. “And we did not do anything, of course. You immediately sleep when you get here. Sorry I brought you here without your consent—I was about to take you back to your parents house, but I guess they would be shocked to see you… like this.”
You shudder at the thoughts of your parents catching you drunk and wearing provocative dresses. They’d immediately ground you like you’re still in elementary school. “Thank you—that’s a great choice. I am sorry again, if I was such a hassle yesterday.”
Taehyung hums, and you don’t exactly know what to say next, so you just focus on the grey wall right in front of you. You despise how awkward it has been to be just the two of you with him—as it never really happened before. “So.. is this your apartment?”
Taehyung nods, while pouring the soup to bowls. “Yes. You know I sold my previous apartment, and in return I bought this one.”
You nod, as you remember hearing it before. “It’s nice.”
Taehyung rests the bowl of soup and a plate of omelette and rice on the floor. “Sorry, I haven’t moved my table to this apartment yet. I never eat in my apartment, actually so I did not think it would be necessary to prioritize my dining table to be moved.”
You smile and walk off your seat to sit in front of him on the floor. “It’s okay, this is more than enough. I’m just happy I can finally eat. I was starving, you know.”
Taehyung giggles at your statement. “Yes, you were drunk to your ass. But it’s okay.” He hums. “I like taking care of you.”
You smile with hesitance at his familiar, affectionate words, but decide to disregard the emotion running through your head. You literally owe him so much you will do everything not to ruin or make everything awkward with him again. And to be here with him, you are happy even though you’re hurting. But it’s better this way rather than throw yourself back inside your room, crying miserably and never coming out, like the past two weeks.
“I also want to apologize, Y/N. That day I was so caught up in my own feelings and.. And I disregard your own. I know what I did and say to you is overwhelming, and you have all right to put a limit on it.” Taehyung whispers in deep regret. You gaze at him who is now avoiding your prodding eyes. “I’ll do anything to make you comfortable with me. But please, please don’t push me away.”
In his apology, you find every resolve or defense you have for him is crumbling down. He is still insensitive to your feelings, but you accept it otherwise. Just because you want him back. You’ll try your best, even if it practically kills you to be around him. “I’m fine, Taehyung. Yes, I apologize too. I was not in my best mood as well, and of course I want things to be back as before with you.”
Taehyung grins widely from ear to ear, completely over the moon of your statement. The weight on his shoulder is lifted, and he can finally breathe without torture. “Thank you.”
You nod with the same smile, scooping a spoon for soup and rice inside your mouth. You instinctively hum at the distinct, wonderful taste on your taste buds. “Wow, this is amazing! I didn’t know you could cook!”
Taehyung chuckles, scratching his nape shyly. “Yeah. It’s my grandmother's recipe, I found it in her books after she passed away. Have been using it and I just.. I am glad you like it.”
The warm smile is still formed on your lips, and Taehyung unknowingly pushed his strands out of his forehead. You feel your heart pound faster, the butterfly inside your stomach knocking on your senses. How can someone be gorgeous?With a smile on his face, the red tingling on his cheek, and the way he only looks at you right now. Is it fair for mortals like you to see him like this?
“What.. Is there something in my face?” He asks shyly for noticing your blatant stare, and you blushes hard, realizing that you indeed have been spending some time just admiring his face. God, you are losing your mind.
“I just.. I am glad to see you again.” You whisper truthfully, the urge to speak whatever is in your mind is too heavy to deny. You need to let him know at least that. No matter how your sanity is forbidding you to. Who are you to deny what you feel? You don’t want to hurt him and yourself again by putting up the wall in between. 
“I miss you, Taehyung.”
Taehyung can hold back his toothy smile at your reddening cheeks, his heart soaring at the remarks that have been going through his mind the first time he saw you yesterday. Is it real? Is it a dream? Is it really you, in front of him, saying the things he long to hear the most?
“Me too.” He whispers, holding back the urge to hug you again, to throw his feelings on the table, afraid that it would scare you again. “You can’t possibly understand how much I missed talking to you, hearing your voice again. Let’s don’t do it again, shall we? Let’s not fight.”
You hum in all agreement, then proceed to continue eating. “I don’t even know why you insist on me packing you food. These are delicious. You are a great cook, Tae.” You sincerely compliment. 
Taehyung, still among his deep thoughts gazes at you happily munching on the food he made, and he is conflicted beyond words. Something passed through his mind—the word he has been thinking all night. It’s what you deserve. It’s what he wanted to do. So why is it so hard for him to say the word?
Stop making me feel special if you don’t mean it to be. I have feelings too.
“Let’s go on a date.”
Listening to the word you would never thought to come out of his mouth, you shake your head in disbelief, then sigh. If he is joking, it’s not even remotely funny. “Taehyung, what are you saying…”
Taehyung stares at you in all sincerity, his heart beating so fast he could even hear it echoing in his ear. He is nervous beyond words, palm sweating profusely like he is about to do something dangerous to his life. But it is. He is serious.
“I know you always want to go on a great first date. Let’s do it. With me.”
You look at him in evident doubt, sensing a bit of annoying hope rising in your chest. Is he really serious right now? Kim Taehyung, the fuckboy who is literally allergic to relationships, is asking you out on a date?
“Taehyung, don’t joke with me—” You shifted on your seat, and Taehyung swiftly holds your hand, looking at you in determination.
“I’m not. Let me prove it to you. Go on a date with me.”
That’s how it happened. You are now sitting in front of the mirror in your room that afternoon, getting for your first date with Taehyung. After eating breakfast at his place, he takes you back to your home, promising that he would pick you up in another two hours. You actually think about going straight on a date to just get it over with—your pessimistic mind was literally thinking the date would end in a complete disaster, it’s better to do it fast and quick—but Taehyung refused, wanting everything to be perfect.
“I can just wear your shirt or my red dress if I have to. It’s okay, we can just go now.” You complained when you were still in his apartment, motioning to your very impropriety now—wearing Taehyung’s shirt and pants with smudged makeup. Taehyung clicked his tongue in distaste of your stubbornness.
“No! I know sweetheart, you still look great in that shirt of mine. But I need some time to prepare everything. I want this first date to be perfect.” He reasoned, and you could feel the nerves bubbling in your chest. No. By every effort you and him put in this so-called first date, the more your dim hope will be lit on fire and you knew it could only result in huge disappointment. Even though you were not going to avoid Taehyung anymore, going on this great first date he mentioned is a recipe of disaster and heartbreak. How are you going to keep everything still in its place when it's clear as a day you’ll like him even more—if it’s even possible?
So you decide to go simple. You are wearing a lilac drawstring top, a matching sky blue boyfriend jeans and a pair of t-strap flats that goes with the whole dress theme. You even put on a light makeup, and the whole time you are preparing cannot slow down the rush in your vein, your head turns dizzy at the amount or nerves in your senses. You are never this nervous for a mere date—or even remotely anything.
While you are busy pep talking yourself for the nth time already, your phone rings, signaling Taehyung’s call on your phone. You swipe green to answer. “Hello?”
“Hi, Y/N. I am already outside, and I can see your father tending your garden and he is calling me right now. Come down, yeah? Don’t wanna be late on our first date.” He affectionately whispers, and you can literally imagine the toothy, boxy smile on his lips. You hum as an acknowledgement, closing the call to grab your mini purse and walk down to your parents.
Descending down the stairs, you can see Taehyung in your yard, laughing with your father. Your heart immediately turns warm, your palm turns clammy at the heartwarming sight. You quickly clear your throat, walking to their side. 
“Hi.” You greet him with a shy smile, and when finding you just a few feets away from him, his eyes immediately lightens, a wide smile follows. He instinctively raises his hand for you to grab, and you are hesitant to grab it, but noticing that your father is present as well, you welcome it.
“Hi, Y/N. You look wonderful today.” He compliments, taking your hand closer to his side. Your dad is now smiling at the gesture—and you are unable to conceal the heat blossoming in your cheek. “Are you ready to go?”
“Come home safely, okay? Let me know if you’re back late.” Your father advises with an approving smile, and something literally stirs inside of you at how supportive he is right now with the fact that you are about to go on a date with Taehyung. Your fake boyfriend nods with determination, does a ninety-degree bow to your father and directs you to his car. 
“Where are we going right now?” You ask in evident excitement after seated in his car that successfully sends jitters all over Taehyung’s body. He bit his lower lips and sent you a wink, a smirk formed on his lips. The shyness immediately emerges to your head that you need to hastily turn your face away, feeling the familiar warmth embracing your face.
“Why would I spoil the date to you, hmm? Seems you gotta be patient with this one, sweetheart.”
You shrug your shoulders, heart leaping fast inside your chest while trying to focus on anything but Taehyung and the fact that you are about to have a date with him. But when his fingers suddenly embrace your petite ones and link each finger perfectly with his own, pull and rest it against his thigh,you nearly lose your breath. Is he seriously doing this to you right now?
“Shall we go?” He smiles with a faint hue of red on his cheek, and you respond with a weak nod, trying not to make a fool of yourself even further.
During the road, you can not be more thankful to the fact that Taehyung put on a great effort to make everything comfortable to you. He is literally acting the same, talking animatedly about his frat brothers and the past weeks with Bee Gees song in the background, and the only difference is not even one he lets go of your hand clasped on his. At that time, you hear the loud warning in your head that is pointing about how everything is going to end in a total disaster if you keep opening up to him—But you despise listening to that annoying voice anymore. 
Taehyung is clearly trying his best now, and the fact that he even wanted to have a date with you and prepare everything beforehand is a great progress. Even though you don’t exactly know why or how he is doing all this romantic gesture, you desperately want to try this with him. And even if it fails, you know you won’t regret a thing. Because at least you tried, right?
After twenty minutes on the road, Taehyung finally parks the car and looks up to you in a smile. “Here we are.”
“Where are we?” You query while clasping off your seat belt in amusement at his gesture.
“So I was thinking exactly what we should do for this date. But then I remembered you actually listed all your dream favorite dates, and I just copied it from there. Sorry, I am not really original.” He chuckles shyly while getting off the car, walking to hold your hand again so you won’t fall in your slightly injured ankle. 
“It’s okay.” You giggle and welcome his grasp. “I don’t even remember what I said, actually.”
“Good! Because we are now taking a cooking class.” He informs enthusiastically, and your eyes widen in surprise. “Couple cooking classes, to be exact. Sorry I didn’t register us separately, since I know you injured your ankle so I will be the one at your service!” He chuckles while giving you a salute and you giggle. 
“Are you going to use my ankle as an excuse, now?” You ask in amusement. He mischievously chuckles and pouts.
“Yup, it’s because I want to cook with you. You happy?” But against his expectation of snarky comments, you nod with a shy smile. And it takes massive amount of self-control to stop himself from kissing your supple cheek. He took a deep breath—hopefully nothing can go south with his usual lack of control.
When you are already seated in the class while Taehyung is standing up beside you—due to your slightly aching ankle, he whispers. “I didn’t really tell you this, but we will be making Mexican Food. You will like it.”
You gaze to him strangely—as you really don’t recall telling him you like Mexican Food. “You know I like Mexican Food?”
“Of course. You said that when we first met, that double date with Jungkook.” He explains like it's the most normal thing and it feels like a knock in the stomach to know that he remembered something from that lackluster date a few months ago. How can he remember that small detail? Did he seriously address that as a double date now? You were literally nothing to him but a nuisance, and he used to puke about the idea of it being a double date. 
“You don’t remember?” He asks, raising the left eyebrow.
Your throat dry, but let out a weak reply. “Kind of. Just surprised you would remember that.”
Taehyung rests his chin on top of your head, caressing it softly without sensing your clear rigid changes. “Of course I remember. How can I forget?”
When he says those words you never thought you would hear ever, you never feel more conflicted before. This is dangerous. This is getting to real. You don’t know what would happen if this goes on.
So when the cook who will be teaching you to Mexican Food arrives, you are more than pleased. At least you will have a distraction other than thinking what the fuck Taehyung meant with all he says and does. “Good afternoon, everyone! Today we are going to create Prawn & Chorizo Quesadilla for Appetizer, Chicken & Bean Enchiladas for Main Course and Flan Cake that would be a perfect palate cleanser for dessert. Let’s start!”
That’s how you’ll spend the next two and a half hours cooking with Taehyung, and you do notice how bossy and competitive he can be—does not want to lose to the couple in front of you which is foolish. They literally are not doing anything right, only focus on hugging and kissing. It is a delightful surprise though, as you totally can relate to that nonsense competitiveness he has, so you follow his orders to divide tasks and jobs. So while you are during kneading the pasta for the quesadilla in deep focus, you are startled when Taehyung smears the flour to your face.
“You know, the instructor came to me and said we were too focused on cooking instead of working together as a couple.” He murmurs with an obvious amusement, and you are unable to hold a giggle as well. It’s true though, you haven’t really been communicating for the last thirty minutes other than asking what you should do next or if you are doing this or that right. You and Taehyung also are basically a distance away from each other, a total contrast to the other couples that can’t seem to get their hands off each other.
“I don’t know why they are thinking we should be hugging or kissing in public areas like this. We spend money here to cook, not to make out—we can do that at home.” You defend yourself, still focused on the dough in front of you. Nonchalant to the fact that Taehyung is now staring at you with mirth for your blatant words.
“You are very, very cute. Do you know that?” He purrs all of a sudden, and you look up to him in confusion. You’re cute? That’s very peculiar. “But they do have a point—let’s at least give them what they want. Hmm?”
So at that time, Taehyung swiftly moves to kiss the flour right on your cheek, and you are too shocked to even respond or even move. After a whole ten second, you are able to send Taehyung a glare who is now giggling at your befuddled expression while continuing mixing the sauce for your appetizer and pretending nonchalance. You sigh, moving to proceed to knead the dough again, your brain is literally on fire due to the sudden attack. It is so difficult to think straight now. All because of this jerk, yet you know you are not complaining.
Another fifteen minutes before he speaks up. “Hey. I finished the sauce for quesadilla. Would you like to try?” He asks while offering you a spoon of sauce. You comply by opening up your mouth, letting the sauce enter your mouth and fill it with the unbelievably amazing taste.
“This is amazing!” You squeal in compliments, cannot believe that he created something so delicious and matches with your preference of spicy food. “But this is a bit spicy, are you okay? You don’t like spicy food.”
“You know it! What a nice surprise.” He beams, eyes crinkling cutely. Of course you remember, you have been eating with him and packing him lunch since months ago. You’d be crazy not to remember the first few days, you put an extra chili in his lunch box and he complained to you he got a digestion problem. “Yup, it’s a tad bit too spicy for me, but I’m okay. I want you to like it.”
“Nooo, I am okay with less spicy too! I don’t want you getting a stomach ache in the middle of our date.” You joke and smile comfortingly, but Taehyung still hesitates while looking at the bowl of sauce. “Seriously, Tae. I’m fine. If you’re happy, I am happy too.”
He is now red beet shy, pushing strands of the hair on his forehead which you can now easily identify as him being nervous. “Hey.. That’s supposed to be my line..”
“Sorry, bro. I am claiming it right now.” 
You are mixing the flan cake batter in full concentration, where suddenly a sound of click is heard. You quickly see him giggling whilst looking at his screen, and you snort almost immediately. He must have taken a shot of you while you are in deep focus. “Hey, that’s not nice—let me see that!”
He quickly put his hand up straight, so your petite frame is unable to reach. You pout, trying to use his shoulder as a helper but it is waste in vain. “I would let you see. Only if you give me a kiss.”
You sneer, immediately go back to your seat. “No thanks. I’d rather shot myself.”
“Come on, Y/N! Just a kiss for your date, hmm?” You scrunch your nose in disgust, glaring at him while he innocently throws his gaze around the room. “Please? Pleaseeeee?”
You sigh in surrender, gesturing for him to come closer. He happily strides closer, and you shyly clear your throat, securing your fingers around his jaw. “You’re a jerk.” You hiss bitterly and he chuckles.
But as you inch closer to his left cheek, he quickly turns his face and pecks you in the lips. Completely taken aback to the fact that you just kissed, you instinctively punch him with all your might, right on the chest and send him to a coughing fit. “What the—why did you hit me?!”
“Because you kissed me without my consent!” Even though the surprise is quite nice, you are not really into public display of affection. It’s just not for you. But you know Taehyung had zero rights to be treated like that when he really means well. “I’m sorry, it was just a reflex. I didn’t mean to, sorry.”
Realizing that you literally feel the overwhelming guilt for your reaction to the kiss, Taehyung nods and pat your head in agreement. “It’s okay. It’s my fault too, I should’ve known you better than that. But at least be gentler next time you punch me, hmm? Cause I seriously can see it coming. Soon, even.”
At his clear joke you can finally smile and continue cooking. But then the sound of silent laughter from the couple in the row behind you, a large possibility at the scene that enfolds with the both of you is heard and Taehyung literally is too ashamed to even look up. He literally made a fool of himself to be refused by his own partner among the couple in cooking class. He is indeed a moron.
Noticing just what happened, you feel guilty beyond words and send the couple a glare that makes them literally silent. You huff loudly, and pull Taehyung closer to your side. “Hey.. hey. Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” He mums, still with a childish pout in his lips. Seeing him right now, you are unable to divert your attention from his supple cheeks which are still too red to be true, and it was too inviting to let you kiss it. So that’s why you let yourself to just do it—you land a kiss on his cheek. Taehyung smiles at your obvious encouragement. 
“Hey, let’s save the kiss for later, hmm?” You whispers, carefully helping him fix the messy strands on his forehead. He reluctantly nods, gazing down at you. He seriously couldn’t care less about the turds laughing at them—he can only focus on the warmth in your eyes, he is just unable to look away. How can you be so lovely?
Another hour and the three dishes are finally completed. You cannot even believe you are able to complete all the dishes, and the visual is outstanding—you sincerely cross your fingers they would taste as good as they look. “I can’t believe we did this! This is amazing Tae.” You squeal, trying to take a shot of the food you cooked with Taehyung as much as possible aesthetic as possible. He beams, focused on you and you only.
“Do you want to take a picture together? We can ask the instructor to take it for us.” He asks and you instantly nod in agreement. “Let’s use my phone.” Taehyung offers the phone from his pocket and you receive it, accidentally turning it on so you can see the background photo he uses as wallpaper. Your breath immediately hasten, your eyebrows raised near your hairline. Can.. can it be? Is your eyes deceiving your right now?
It’s you. It’s literally you. Taehyung’s background is the photo he took of you the night both of you went to McDonalds, you were shoving four McDonalds nuggets into your mouth as a bet with Taehyung of ten bucks, and he took that for you. He said he deleted it—but it was clearly a lie since he is now using it as a wallpaper. 
“Are you okay? Let’s pose, sweetheart, he is waiting.” Taehyung peers at you, noticing the sudden change in your demeanor. Noticing how weird you have been, you clear your throat and try to pose a smile with the food you created. One photo taken, the instructor asks for a change in pose—a more romantic one, as it seems like he is so keen in seeing you act as a couple—then you feel Taehyung’s palm resting on the side of your shoulder, leaning his cheek on the top of your head. At that time, everything feels too overwhelming. What is this? Is this a sign? Does he… Does he finally reciprocate the feelings you have for him? Is he finally ready for something more with you?
As Taehyung receives the phone back and mutters his thanks, he swipes the phone to see the photo taken. You stare at him, all smiley and giggly while swiping the photos. He even shows you one photo—the one he leans to you and says with evident glee, “You look really beautiful here. I like this photo.”
You clearly do not respond in his query, too deep in your own thoughts that Taehyung had to ask. “Are you okay, beautiful? Don’t you like the photos?”
Your throats are dry, but you manage to respond with a nervous smile and fake your enthusiasm. “I’m fine, just—just hungry. Let’s try the food.”
*
After finishing the cooking class, Taehyung is still secretive about the next location you are going to have your date, but you kind of get the idea by the time you are one and a half hour long ride inside his car. Taehyung is taking you further from downtown, and you are quite confident he is taking you to a beach, and it is an hour away from sunset. You try asking about it before, but only given a wink as an answer, which is albeit nice is not helping you out of the dark at all.
“I know we are going to Eurwangni Beach! Since there is no way you’re taking me to an airport which is also near, unless you want to sell my organs. Or are you—”
Taehyung chuckles at your joke and raises his eyebrows, teasing you. “Yup, I’m going to sell your unhealthy, contaminated organs, sweetheart. So treasure this moment with me, it might be the last moment of your life.”
“Unhealthy organs?! The audacity. I bet my organs are more healthy and more expensive than yours.” You scoff, folding your arms on your chest. Taehyung beams and ruffles your hair.
“Be patient, okay? We’re only twenty minutes away.”
Another twenty minutes and you can detect the orange tinge in the sky—the sunset is nearing. Taehyung is vividly looking rushed at the sky as well. “Hey, the sunset is soon! Hop on my back, we are going fast.”
You realize the reason he wants you to hop on is because of your aching ankle. You are positive you can walk, but choose not to argue since he completely looks worried—probably for the possibility of being unable to make it on time. You hop on his back, and he literally runs the second his arms are around your legs. At that, it is difficult to shake off the laughter.
It was fortunate that the place is not too far or you’ll feel guilty. It turns out there is a vacant tent set up on the side of the beach with a carpet set up, two drinks, a bowl of fruit and… two canvas? 
Taehyung rests you on the carpet carefully, and he quickly takes a seat beside you . “Taehyung, what is this?” You ask in confusion, noticing he is taking one black duffle bag set on the side. Taehyung chuckles.
“Ah, yes. So you actually listed a beach date on your dream first date, so I am taking you to one. But then I figure since your ankle is injured and to just eat or just talk would be boring, I’m adding a little twist.” Taehyung cunningly smiles, then proceeds to take painting utensils—a brush, paints and other peculiar painting items your uneducated mind is unfamiliar with. “Let’s paint!”
You chuckles in mirth, Taehyung is setting the utensils between the both of you. “I think the sun is setting, we gotta be fast or we should just paint the night sky. Which one do you prefer?” He asks mindlessly, shuffling through the brushes of sizes as you gaze up to him. Something inside of you flutters at how thoughtful he is to the whole date—the fact that he prepared this much for you somehow makes it really hard to remember that he is unfit for someone you can actually trust your heart with.
“I’m okay with everything.” You mumble to him, resting your palm above his own. “But can I ask one thing?” Taehyung easily hums in agreement.
“I want to paint with you. In one canvas.” You shyly look up to him, finding it a bit challenging to speak your mind. “I know I’m not that good, but I really want to paint with you, and talk to you… I am afraid we are going to be too busy with our own paintings, like the cooking class—and I just want to talk with you, actually.”
Taehyung’s eyes are wide as saucers. Are you seriously saying that to him right now? That what you want is to talk to him, and be with him? He seriously considers his hearing is betraying him right now. “I.. of course. That’s a great idea—let’s-let’s do it. So should we paint one for sunset, one for night sky?”
You nod, and Taehyung offers you one brush with a smile. “Let’s do this!”
That’s how you spend the next hour, accompanied by the sound of waves crashing the land, the sun setting beautifully while you and Taehyung are trying to capture the wonderful scenery in front of both of you. The time spent is wonderful, Taehyung telling you about how he finds the wonder of painting. Few years ago, due to the turmoil of his family, he fell into depression and had to go to a psychiatrist. He despised going there at first, but then after a few sessions he finally got a tad bit better and his therapist advised him to paint to help him express the emotions he felt. 
“Yup, and after that I spent lots of my free time painting. My previous apartment was filled with my paintings, actually.” He admits with a tinge of shyness coloring his cheek, while his fingers expertly create waves in your shared painting. 
“You are amazing with this. I really think you are very talented, Tae. I mean, look at this!” You complained while pointing at your horrendous supposed-to-be dolphin emerging out of water, compared to his beautifully painted one. “Mine looks like a rotten carrot coming out of a wave and yours are literally exotic dolphins found in the Baltics. God, you are making my pride to shame.”
Taehyung wholeheartedly laughs at your silly comparison. “No! Yours look great too for a newbie, sweetie. No artist is built on the first paint, right?”
“So you do think my dolphin is ugly!” You menacingly elbow him in the waist he had to chuckle.
“I’m just taking the word from your own mouth!” He giggles and you sigh exasperatedly, looking at your deranged dolphin slash carrot. “And I told you, baby. You need to use the smaller brush for detailed paintings.”
“I swear I’ll do better in the night sky painting.” You mutter in heavy, unnecessary determination, moving to grab a grape from the bowl of fruit and consume them. “This is amazing. Do you want some?” Taehyung hums, still in deep concentration to salvage the painting you might or might not have ruined, probably due to your lackluster sense of art. 
“You know, Tae, I never thought you’d go this far for this date.” You silently address, unable to hold back the impressed expression painted in your face. “My expectation was just a nice lunch and dinner, or even a movie. I never would’ve guessed you’d go through my dream date and actually execute it. I mean—I am very happy now but.. I am just.. I would be happy too with a dinner.”
“I’m just.. I don’t want to bother you, or burden you with my own—”
Listening to your words, Taehyung pauses working on his painting and is quick to hold your hand against his own. “Hey, hey.. I’m more than happy for this date. And it’s not a burden at all.” He whispers, playing with your fingers. “Can’t you see, Y/N? I am very happy. I am happier than I’ve been recently. You know I’m happier with you, always.”
You stare at him, tears are lounging in the corner of your eyes and he continues. “Yes—I know the night would have been perfect if you did not punch me when we were in the cooking class,” You chuckle against the tears. “but that’s okay too. Cause now I get to know you better. So don’t cry, hmm?”
Taehyung takes your hand and kisses the back of your palm. “Don’t cry. I hate seeing you cry, you know it.”
“It’s a cry of happiness.”
Taehyung smiles, moving his thumbs to swipe the remnants of tears on both sides of your cheek. “That is great, but I would prefer a smile or laughter in happiness. Since I want to smile and laugh along with you.”
“You know you are such a ball of cheese today, huh?” You say with amusement and he shrugs with a wink, proceeding to continue the painting.
Another ten minutes and he is finally putting the last touch on his painting. Taehyung squeal in glee, shifting the stands for you to get a better look. “It’s done! It’s finally done.” 
“It’s beautiful.” You whisper, looking at the wonderful painting of orange sunset on the sea with dolphins jumping, beautifully painted. But you do realize that some of the mistakes and terribly drawn details you made has not been fixed—especially the dolphin one. “Hey, why did not you fix this carrot? It could’ve been perfect.”
Taehyung shakes his head, looking up to the painting in a longing smile. “Nah. It doesn’t have to be perfect. As long as it’s both you and I together who paints it, it’s already the best painting for me.”
You intensely gaze to him and he replies with the same, indecipherable emotion. He continues. “I’m sorry. I know this day has been too much, but I am glad—”
Looking at those beautiful large eyes of his, letting go of the sanity and following what your heart really wants to do is as easy as blinking an eye. You swiftly cut him with your mouth pressed against him vivaciously, longing to taste his lips again. And not even a second wasted, Taehyung eagerly responds to the kiss, motioning your leg to move and sit on his lap. His luscious lips never taste better, as you run your fingers through his silk hairs, your body pressed to him without even a distance. His tongue is swift in lapping your lips for entrance, and you comply with vivid excitement. 
“Baby.. You taste wonderful.” He moans beautifully—exactly music in your ears. Another minute drunk on each other’s taste, you release him with reddening cheeks, grateful to finally take a breath you’ve been longing a long time now. You rest your forehead on his, breathing each other scent in. Your heartbeat is now too fast to be true, with his eyes peering to you affectionately, and you just knew. You had to say it—now or never.
Taehyung tucks a strand of hair on your face behind your ear, noticing the conflict in your face. Are you regretting the kiss? “Baby, what’s wrong? You seem—”
“Taehyung, I like you.”
Hearing your word, Taehyung gazes at you with a wide smile—but you know he is certainly missing your point. “I like you too, Y/N. You know it.”
“No—I like you more than that.” You whisper in a rush, since you really need to say this or you’ll stop and regret it forever. “I like you too much, and I like you not in that friendly way—it’s more than that. I can even say I love you. I love the way you do everything, Taehyung. I love how you take care of me, I love how you love yourself, I love how selfless and passionate you are about everything, I love how polite and kind you are, I love everything about you.”
You love him. You love Taehyung—there’s no denying it. All of what you said is true—you did not even plan a word to say, and you most absolutely did not plan to confess and put everything on the line tonight, or even ever. But you know it had to be done. The feelings you have for him are too overwhelming, and it kills you nearly everyday to have him close everyday but has to hold your feelings back. You know by logic it doesn’t make any sense, Taehyung said he will never tie himself in a relationship, but your heart tells you that you might be an exception. Or you wish you are his exception.
Every second that passes with silence kills you, as you can see by second it is indeed a huge mistake to let your feelings out to him. Taehyung is terrified—you can clearly see it in his eyes. Your heart leaps in your chest, the echo is too much on your ear. You feel nauseous, the first time you ever let yourself follow your heart and confess it goes berserk. 
“Y/N, I like you too. But please tell me you are not looking for anything serious with me.” 
The pain is too evident you can hardly breathe. This is as clear and as painful as any rejection can be.
This is it, this is your chance. Just say yes, say that you are saying that because you appreciate the kindness he does and joke about how self-centered he is to think that you are seriously looking for something serious with a fuckboy.
You clear your throat, even with the dizziness embraces your head. No, you are not backing down again and be the same coward who is too scared of rejection. “No. I am looking for something serious. I like you, Tae. I want.. I want to have a serious relationship. With you.”
Taehyung instinctively groans, and you can feel a strong knock on your guts when a lucid disgust is formed on his face at the mention of a serious relationship. You cringe.
“Y/N, you know I don’t do relationships. Why would you expect that with me? I told you that before, I am not and will never want a relationship.”
Like the words are not harsh enough to you, he immediately takes a step back to put a safe distance between the both of you like you are a disease. The tears are already falling down your cheek. You feel like an idiot, you feel humiliated, you feel fooled, and frankly you are disgusted at yourself and him. You are not special. You are thinking too far. Who are you to think that he likes you? Who are you to think you can change his mind about relationships? 
But your heart tells you that something is indeed not right. Everything he does to you—you know you are not hallucinating about it. Taehyung likes you, like what you expect him to be.
You look at him menacingly, the sadness turns into anger risen inside your chest. You are frustrated at his evident denial. “Why are you so afraid of letting me in, Taehyung? Why don’t you give us a chance? I know you, Taehyung—I know you are scared about the feelings we have for each other. But it doesn’t have to be that way. We can do this together—just give us a chance.”
Taehyung looks at you passively. “I. don’t. do. relationships. How many times should I tell it for you to understand, Y/N? I told you that a thousand times, I made it clear. How can you not get it?!”
“How can I not get it? It’s funny because what you said and what you did is 180 degrees different!” You stared at him in resentment and anger. “You told me you don’t want a relationship, but you kissed me, you held me, said you liked me, care about me in this whole damn world, act like a boyfriend to me even when my parents are not around, told me to not meet Hoseok, abandon your one night stand for me, slept beside me and took care of me, you put your phone wallpaper of my photo—what am I supposed to get, Taehyung?! That I am just your platonic best friend?!”
Your burst of rage immediately silenced him, but you are not done. You had enough of the emotional torture he put you in. “I told you. I told you to make it clear. If we are just a platonic best friend, you need to stop confusing me. And now you do all these dream dates shit, and not expect me to like you even more? Why are you playing with my heart just because you can’t figure your own?!”
“Y/N…” Seeing your broken attempts, Taehyung instinctively reaches out to you, but you quickly withdraw your hand away from him in repugnance. His heart fell at your clear avoidance.
You wipe your tears to the back of your sleeve, not wanting to waste another of your precious tears for another fuckboy who cannot even appreciate you and what you both had. “I am done with this, Taehyung. I am better off without you. I know you got an issue yourself, I am sorry, but I can not be the one to sacrifice my sanity because you just cannot solve it yourself.”
You stand up, and fortunately the ache in your ankle is getting much much better—or probably hidden by the booming pain in your chest. “I am getting a taxi.”
He instantly stands up, trying to stop your movement. “Y/N, you are hurt, let me at least take you home..” Taehyung whispers and offers his hand, but you menacingly laugh at him while picking up your belongings.
“I don’t need your pity ride.” You spit, eyes harsh. “Why would I spend another two hours sitting in a car with you again? You think I’m crazy? You should be thankful, now you can go on with your life the way it used to be. You’re happy, right? Go on with your one-night-stands again, Tae. Go back to your hollow life with those girls you’ll fuck and never call back. You prefer that, right?”
Taehyung is still silenced at your disquieting words, and you force a smirk even though inside you are completely numb. Like a mantra, you keep repeating how it’s better this way. It’s better to close all possibilities that you will ever be with him. So then your foolish heart can finally learn—you were thinking so highly of yourself. There is no use in wishing you can actually change someone, it will never happen. 
You are crying till your tears run out, clenching on your chest. Is love supposed to hurt like this?
*
Taehyung wakes up with looming pain on his head, staring up at the Metallica poster on the ceiling. And how weird can it be that he instantly is reminded of the moment he first woke up next to you that morning in your apartment, the first time he broke two of his Platinum Rules for such a fierce, sassy girl that immediately set him straight and comfortably joked with him. He could never forget every detail, every joke, everything about you that night till morning.
It’s been exactly three months since the night of your first date together, which was also the night you confessed that you liked him and wanted to have a committed relationship with him, but he threw you away without any second thoughts just because he was scared. And since then, you can’t even understand how much he regrets everything that happened between the two of you, treating you like what you both had does not matter all because he was—or maybe still is a coward.
And he is too ashamed to admit that he had taken it too hard that first few weeks since that night, he literally cried every night. He felt alone, he felt miserable, he felt like an idiot, and frankly, he missed you so much. Not a day went by without him punishing himself for throwing away something that matters the most, something so beautiful only because he cannot trust himself and becoming too comfortable with the unfair relationship you both had. 
And Taehyung tried calling you, but as expected you had his number blocked. Because he is a coward, he still doesn’t have the courage to meet you in person and tell you what happened, because literally he can’t see anything good will happen out of that. You could still be miserable, and he’d kill himself if you are struggling because of him. You could be happy, and he’d be happy too at first , but then the loneliness of seeing you well and happy with out him would keep him awake at night and drive him crazy. So he held back, changed his numbers and swore he won’t disturb you again.
“Man, you’re okay?”
Taehyung turns to find Jimin seated on Jungkook’s single bed, looking up to him in evident worry. “Why are you here—where’s Jungkook? And what do you mean okay?”
Jimin clears his throat, a bit uncomfortable to address the elephant in the room. “Jungkook is leaving for a date with his girlfriend. Nothing, it’s just—you’ve been sleeping since 2pm yesterday, and you just woke up now, and it’s already 10am. You nearly sleep for a full day. Is everything okay?”
Taehyung sighs, moving to sit up and feel the blood rushing uncomfortably in his head. He carefully massages his temples. “Have been better, but I’m fine. A bit bothered by the jackass partying downstairs last night too, but all good.” 
Jimin hums. “So are you seeing your psychiatrist today?” He asks, offering a bottle of water which Taehyung receives and mutters his thanks. Ever since literally having a mental breakdown two weeks after that first date, Jimin asks Taehyung to go back to seeing his psychiatrist. Even though they were on a college break, it was still unhealthy for him to mop around his apartment and spend night and day drinking alcohol and crying while looking at his painting; especially the sunset on sea one. Jimin did not really know why it was the one he spent most of time staring at—especially with the clear lower quality of the painting, but he did not ask. Taehyung must have his personal reasons.
At first, Taehyung hates the idea of going back to have a session, but Jimin introduces him to an acquaintance who was one of the best psychiatrists in Korea. After much persuasion and realizing how miserable he felt and had been for the past few weeks, he agreed for a session. It turned out better than expected, and it somehow builds something within him—a motivation to be better. He wants to be a better person, to finally breathe without having to hurt, to be able to trust himself again. After two and a half months spent in intense treatment with his psychiatrist, he finally got much better since before.
Ten minutes spent in silence, before Jimin carefully opens a conversation again. “Taehyung, you can meet her, you know. You are getting better, and I think it’s good that you are, but you know you need to see her again.”
Taehyung sighs in complete distress, lowering his head. “I know. I want to, more than anything. I want to meet her again, to tell her everything that happened, but there’s no use for that anymore, Jimin. She did not want to see me again, she made it very clear. She also met someone else, someone better. She deserves it, to be happy. I don’t want to burden her with me again.”
And more reason why he really thinks every possibility is closed on seeing you again is due to the fact that you have met someone new. He heard it from lots of people—and even Jimin, that you have a new boyfriend with the name of Doojoon, a humble boy that works in a bookstore near Han River. He is said to be very kind and polite, and Taehyung did not really want to hear any further explanation. He did not realize that it would hurt this much to see you find someone else. He was trying to be happy for it—your happiness matters the most, he understands it better than anyone, but he is still heartbroken. 
He loves you, but it is not enough to let you go.
“I know. But just consider it—hmm? It doesn’t have to be that grand proporsal you do to get back together. Just ask how she’s doing and everything. She is someone special, Tae. You know it.” 
Taehyung hates how right Jimin is, since he is also advised by his psychiatrist to try solving the things with you as it will haunt him as unfinished until he finally finishes it—but he can’t. He is a coward. He knows he'll be unable to see you right in the eye and not grovel at your feet, beg you to come back, tell you that he is sorry and tell you about everything he wished was different. He still loves you, not even a day goes by without thinking about you and even though he is getting better in a mental sense, the fact that he might never feel what you both had with each other again still wounds him everyday.
Jimin taps his knees and stands up. “You got a lot to think about, buddy. It’s jus a suggestion, don’t think about it too much. Gonna leave you alone for this one. Good luck, okay? Tell me if you need anything.”
Taehyung thinly smiles, softly tapping his best friend’s thigh as an appreciation. “Thanks, Jimin. I owe you a lot.”
“I know. Then stop worrying me and just go meet her, okay?”
Jimin finally leaves the scene, but Taehyung is still too deep in his own thoughts that he nearly misses the loud ring of his phone. He mindlessly answers without looking at the caller. At the sudden caller’s panicked words, his eyes widens, heart skips a beat due to the great shock. Running to grab his shirt, it doesn’t even take a second for him to shout before clicking it off.
“What?! Okay, I am on my way.”
*
Taehyung runs in the hallway of the hospital like a crazy person, that a nurse had to stop him on his track. “Someone I know is in emergency, nurse. Where can I find her?!”
The nurse immediately senses the rush in his tone and leads him to the nurse behind the front desk. “Sir, how can I help you?”
“Nurse, please tell me where the child is in? She had a seizure, and she’s just in. Yoon Yuna. Please tell me where she is!”
“Sir, may I know your relation to the patient?”
Taehyung is too panicked to even comprehend. “I am her guardian. Please let me meet her.”
After a few other protocols, the nurse quickly leads him to the children's side in hospital, and in which he can see Mina crying outside a door. Taehyung quickly runs, and touches her by the arm. “Hey, what happened to Yuna..”
Mina is still crying hard, as she stumbles on the words she is about to say. “I-i don’t know. She was okay yesterday, but last night she got a really high fever and this morning she had a seizure. I was so scared, I don’t know what to do so I run her to the hospital, but her father is still on the way. He said he’ll be able to arrive by tomorrow, and I don’t know who to call beside you, Taehyung. I’m sorry if I bother you.”
Taehyung moves to rest her arm around her shoulder, pulling him close. He knew how hard it must be for her to go through the experience alone—he doesn’t want her to be miserable. “It’s okay. I’m glad you called. And no worry, I know she’ll be okay. She is a strong girl, she’ll be healthy in no time.”
Mina nods in his arm, still in tears. Taehyung heaves a breath, shutting his eyes, sincerely begging for Yuna’s recovery as fast as possible. Just imagining such a lively and vivacious girl to be sick has already torn his heart. He misses her so much, and he is not even sure he can face her being sick without crying.
Another half an hour spent in silence, suddenly the doctor comes out of Yuna’s room. Both Taehyung and Mina quickly rush to her side. “Doctor, how is Yuna? Is she okay?”
The doctor smiles in reassurance. “She’s fine. You have given her a correct first aid. She just needs to sleep for a few hours, stay for one or two nights for monitoring, and she’ll be good as usual. Let’s leave her alone for now, okay?”
Both Taehyung and Mina sigh in relief, deeply bow to the doctor. After she leaves, they can finally breathe. “Oh God, I was so scared.” Mina sighs, palm resting on her chest. “I really thought—”
Taehyung quickly taps her on the shoulder, stopping her worried words. “It’s okay, don’t dwell on that. What’s important is that she is okay now, just needs some rest.”
Mina nods with a thin, tired smile and Taehyung can totally relate to what she feels. Hearing Yuna is having a seizure could be the last thing he would ever want to hear, and he drove as fast as he could. After hearing she is fine, Taehyung could feel the heavy weight on his shoulder was lifted as well.
Suddenly among the nearly awkward silence, a sound of grumble is heard collectively, the source of sound coming from both your stomachs. It fortunately crashes the tense between the two of you, both laughing silently. “I am so hungry. Do you want to grab a meal in the lobby?”
Taehyung shakes his head, and stands up. “It’s okay, you should watch Yuna. I am going to bring you food, wait here.”
“No, we can’t eat here. Look.” She points at the clear sign.  “We can eat for fifteen minutes, I think it should be fine as we cannot enter the room as well. Let’s grab some food, I want to go to the restroom after that too.”
So that’s how both Taehyung and Mina are walking down to the hospital cafeteria, with the lingering awkwardness. He safely secures his hand on his pocket, looking at all the hospital posters stuck on the wall, trying not to drown in the tense air right before she opens a conversation.
“How are you?” Mina asks with a sincere smile. “Is anything good happening? You strangely look better than I saw you before. Tell me.”
Taehyung answers, after clearing his throat. Is it obvious? “Not really, no. But I finally got the help I need I guess? I think got better.. mentally. Something happened, and it… it might or might not made me realize I was getting worse..? If that’s possible.” 
Even with only a vague question, Mina still manages to open him up after all these times. It’s nearly magical how she is able to do it—even Jimin, his psychiatrist and his other friends are having a hard time to get him to confess what’s bothering his mind. “I just.. I met someone. I thought seeing this someone made me feel better—and I really did—but something was... not right? Because I guess I was becoming too dependent on her for my happiness—it was unhealthy. For me and for her.”
Mina nods, gesturing Taehyung to continue. “I like this girl. I don’t know—I might even love her. You know me, Mina. I wasn’t the greatest person, I could even be the worst. I don’t believe in relationships, I even spit on them. All because I am traumatized, because I believed I would never have someone who truly loves me. I thought it was nonsense—like it was only a far dream.” Taehyung whispers, eyes empty to nothingness.
“And then I met her, I felt like something changed. This girl must be different, and I… I saw so much of me in her. She’s not perfect, she is scarred, and she made me want to protect and care for her, like I want to do anything to make her happy, and that made me happy too. I like her and it’s too obvious even anyone can see, but I was unfair to her. I treat her like a lover, but I refused to put a label on it, while she was looking for something real.”
“And when she confessed her feelings… I let her go. Exactly three months ago.” Taehyung whispers weakly, the hurt is becoming too real to absorb. “Idiot me, I let her go. It was hard, but now I know it’s for the best. I am not ready for her, I couldn’t let her deal with this broken piece of me. And now she is now moving on to someone better. Good for her.”
Mina looks at him in surprise. “Wow.”
Taehyung smiles, rubbing the bridge of his nose to quickly wipe the tears. No, he doesn’t want to cry—but now with Mina here, everything is too much, like everything is coming back at him weighs like a ton of brick to his consciousness. 
“I am very proud of you.” Mina whispers, eyes glistening with tears. “You have been very, very brave about this. You know nothing good coming out of rushing things, Taehyung. She might be ready at that time, but you clearly understand you still were not. And to be brave enough to get that help and work hard to finally be better.. It’s just—so, so so amazing.”
Both of them finally arrived at the cafeteria. “And I don’t think you should regret a thing. You could’ve been with her, forcing yourself in something you did not even understand and ruined a once in a lifetime bond with her just because you were not ready. What I mean is—everything will rightfully fall to its own place, at the right time. You know? There’s no rush. If she meant to be, she’ll be.” Mina smiles encouragingly, patting him in the back.
“Have you talked to her again? After that last time?”
Taehyung forlornly shakes his head. “I know there’s a lot of opportunity… but I am too scared to face her again. I am afraid I would mess all of it again, you know? It’s like, one last chance I have with her, and I really want to make it right. But I’m not sure if I’m ready.”
Mina nods in understanding, offering him a bottle of drink taken from the fridge. “Well, I most definitely cannot answer that. The answer is only for you to know.”
“And how can I know? These things inside my head keep on thinking what if I mess everything up. I.. I can’t stop it.” He sighs exasperatedly, desperately looking to Mina for an answer he knows she can’t give. Mina winks at him teasingly, munching happily on a bread on her grasp.
“Well, maybe you should start thinking about what if you do everything right. Then you’d know.”
*
It was Saturday, exactly 6pm and you are already lounging in your bed, face painted with exhaustion. You did nothing remotely important today, but you don’t exactly know why you are drained to the max. It could probably be the fact that your mother is already telling you to finally get out of the house after the longest time, and your friends are blowing up your phone asking to meet them for a party but you refuse and insist on staying home. The last time you went to a party was being trashed at that frat party three months ago, exactly at that time you broke every kind of relation with Taehyung.
You sigh when realizing that your mind really has nothing better to think other than Taehyung, how long it has been since the last time you saw him, and how much you have been missing him. The whole three months is a train of torture, a period in which you do all everything in your power to avoid thinking about him too much and eventually calling him. And after a month you actually did, one drunken night you were staying with Seungyeon and called him, but it was unable to be connected. High possibility he already blocked you, but who are you to judge? If you were him you’d do that in a heartbeat too.
“This man is horrible.” You groan in disgust while watching terrible american reality TV, 90 Days Fiance. After the whole three months, you have been focusing on watching trashy movies and reality shows, only to busy yourself with the fact that you are avoiding your real issue that your right mind has been telling you the nth time now.
Everyone said that for a million times, that you are doing the right thing for standing up to Taehyung. That he doesn’t deserve you. That the pain too shall pass. But how long will it take to prove them right? Because you have been waiting for three months, and by days you felt more and more miserable. Frankly, you miss him. You miss Kim Taehyung. You miss talking to him again, you miss seeing his face, you miss hearing his voice, you miss sitting in Han River with him again. And even though knowing what you did that evening was the right thing to do, why can’t your heart try to understand and just let it go? Why do you have to like him too much like a fool?
The idiot pairs on your screen are fighting, but you decide to turn them off as it is too disturbing to your distracted mind. You move to lay on your bed, staring at the ceiling in silence in deep sigh.
Is he okay? Is he doing well?
Does he feel miserable? Does he feel the way you do?
Does he miss you like you miss him?
All these questions somehow, even after three months are still able to tear you up like it’s just yesterday. You hate this suffocating feeling in your chest that you are unable to let go. It is always there, since the moment you left three months ago, and never left ever since.
You know he loved you, but he was just not ready.
The tears fall one by one after the statement runs through your head. Yes, it is true. You knew Taehyung needed sometimes to fix himself, but you were shoving your feelings like it was the only thing that mattered. How selfish could you be, when all he did was take care of you, even better than he took care of himself? You are a fool to let him go, just like that.
Suddenly, a knock on your door is heard. You agonizingly and swiftly sweep the tears away at the back sleeve of your sweater—and it turns out to be your father behind the door. “Y/N, someone is at the door, sending this package. He said you need to open it and meet him after, so come down okay?”
You hum, opening the crack of your door, careful not to let him know you have been crying or there will be follow up interrogation. “Do you know who it is, pa?” 
He shrugs. “No, but he looks nice. Got a nice car too.”
You roll your eyes, pulling to receive the package. It is a rectangle, large package with blue wrapping and silver ribbon. Your eyebrows raised in uncertainty, your fingers carefully scrap it open to see what’s inside.
It’s a blank canvas, and the exact same canvas. Your heartbeat immediately fastens, as your fingers run through the smooth expanse of the surface, with a letter stuck on top of it. You are swift to open the letter with overwhelming nerves —the reminder that someone is waiting for you outside is not helping as well.
I know I am three months late, but can we finish this piece?
And I miss you.
With love, Kim Taehyung.
Not even a hint of hesitation and care, you run out of the room to your porch, looking at a red car parked in front of your house. It’s Jimin. It’s really Jimin.
“Hey. You ready?” Jimin asks with a wide smile. You nod.
You never felt more ready in your life.
Fifteen minutes spent in silence, and you are familiar with the road you are driving on. It’s Han River, exactly a place you meet Taehyung again that night. And when you can detect his car parked in his usual spot, your breath immediately hastens. It is really him. You are about to talk to someone you miss so much, spending too many time thinking about—he is literally just a distance away.
When the car finally comes to a stop, Jimin gives you a comforting smile. “Good luck.”
You nod, reciprocate his smile. “Thanks.”
Walking out, you can slowly make out the silhouette of Taehyung, sitting on the bench, looking out to the sky. You take a deep breath, braving yourself. Here he is. Just go for it. And please don’t cry—You warn yourself, trying to muster your most sincere smile and hope it will not crack, no matter how much you long to just by seeing him again for the first time in three months and tell him how hard it has been for him. You hold the blank canvas in your grasp, hesitantly walking to him.
“Hi.” You breathe, and Taehyung immediately shoots his gaze to you, the familiar boxy smile formed on his lips.
“Hi. Please sit down.”
By the time you are seated behind him, you are certain it is not long until you will cry. You don’t know what to say to him, since all you wanted to do is to hug him and never let go. You want to let him know that being far from him one of the hardest thing you ever endured, and you miss him terribly that it stings inside your heart. Yet nothing comes out, because you are a coward. 
“S-should we paint?” He asks in a rush, taking the brush out of the same duffle bag you identify from months ago. “I know it’s not really close to the sky on the beach the last time, but this is good too. I just don’t want you too far from your home and—”
“Are you afraid that I will run away like I did last time and had to take a taxi, two hours just to head back?” You ask in an indecipherable emotion painted across your face. Taehyung looks up, nerve painted on his face. Is he making the wrong choice to invite you now? Are you still furious at him? Only if he knew.
“Don’t worry. That won’t happen again, Tae.”
Taehyung let out the breath he has been holding. “You scared me.”
“I don’t know why you would care so much about me.” You bit your lips, holding the tears back, not wanting to let him see how fragile you are right now. “I would hate me if I were you..”
You know Taehyung intended to hug you, but he braced himself and settled on a pat on your head instead. Sensing his hesitation, it feels like a knock to your gut. It is as clear as a day he is limiting himself with you now. “Hey, don’t say it like that. You know I would never hate you. It’s beyond my power, I think.”
“Should we start painting?” He asks with a comforting smile after noting your deep silence, and you nod hesitantly, unsure how to keep on pretending everything is alright when all you want to do is to cry on his arm. “I know the lighting is not really good here, so I actually bring a portable lamp. Hope this helps.”
He turns on a lamp hanging on in front of your head. The lamp was adequate to let you see the blank canvas on the canvas stand, along with the blue paint he prepared. He offers you one brush, and that’s how you spend the next ten minute, in silence doing the bare minimum as it is mostly him doing all the painting. 
“How have you been? This past three months, I mean.” Taehyung suddenly asks, breaking the uncomfortable tense so thick he can cut it and shove it down his throat and hopefully choke on it forever. “Are you doing fine?”
That questions leaves you in agonizing contemplation. What should you say? Can you drop it on him? Tell him that you are miserable, and hurt, and you miss him so bad you lock yourself in your home most of the times you are free, looking at the ceiling or checking on the photo you took of him or with him? Tell him that you have been mostly regretting the times you force your feelings to him? Another humiliation is not really what you want to have right now. 
“I’m fine, I think.” is all you are muster to say. What a fucking liar, you curse yourself in distress. You want to answer as honest as possible, but how can you answer the truth without crying? And the last time you tell him what you exactly felt, both of you broke up without even any relationship to begin with. Is it so wrong of you to think you might ruin everything? “What about you? The past three month?”
“I’m getting better.” He steals a glance at you, before resuming to pain the calming river on his canvas. “After that night, I was not really in a good place, actually. I was miserable, I felt alone, and yup. I lock myself inside my apartments the first two weeks, drinking days and nights until Jimin asks me to visit a psychiatrist. I was offended and hesitant at first, even deep within I know I need it. A help.”
You stare at his side face, still proceed in painting. You can’t believe how composed he can be. “Before, I’m not really the type to be that positive, but then I felt strangely motivated. Is that weird?” He asks shyly, scratching his nape. You instantly respond by shaking your head. “It was like… For the first time, I kind of have this hope? That I want myself to be better. And I got better too. Much, much better. I even contacted and talked to my mom and dad again, probably after such a long time now. They were surprised to say the least.”
You smile at him, eyes glistening with tears. “That’s amazing news, Taehyung. I am very, very happy for you. And proud too.”
Taehyung rests his brush on the stand and stares at you that nearly makes you lose your breath. “I know you are wondering why I ask you to come here. And even though I just want to see you again, it's mostly to say what I am three months too late to say.”
“I know I’m not the best person, Y/N. I could be the worst person to date. I was a fuckboy that took lightly of people’s feelings, and I only cared about my own. I even had these silly rules about dealing with girls, it’s called the platinum rules and.. and I just realize this was sort of my defense? The defense I had to protect myself from truly liking someone.”
“And regardless of being a trash rule that just made me the worst person to ever exist, it also took me to you. It made me realize you are not just anyone—you are not just a number, just a one night stand. You are more than that, and you proved it in just a day. You show me all these qualities I never thought you would have, and you made me comfortable. Too comfortable, I think. It was something I hoped to never change, but it was selfish of me.”
“In a way, I see myself in you, Y/N. Like you make me want to take care of you, always. And then days go by and I felt like I was too attached with you, but still intact with the fear that I have about relationships. I ignore that important issue about my trauma, as what we have has made me too happy and I believed the illusion I was doing alright. But I wasn’t.”
You don’t even realize you have been holding your breath for too long now. “Taehyung…”
“Even though I wish some things might be different, I had to thank you and whatever happened that night. Even with the pain intact, you made me realize that I needed help. I couldn’t throw my insecurities and trauma on you, Y/N. I could’ve ruined everything we had. I can finally, finally think of the silver lining out of you slapping the truth on my face.” He chuckles nervously while scratching his nape, and you are unable to take your eyes off him. How can he be this calm, telling the most important turmoil happening in his life?
“And I’m happy you are happy right now. You can’t believe how… how happy I was to find that you moved on and… and—ah. No, I’m just happy for you.” 
There is something he is hiding about, and your eyebrows raise in concern. “Happy for me because of what?”
“What’s the use of it now, Y/N?” He asks weakly, his lips forming to a thin straight line. He practiced this a million times, but how is he still unable to fake it? He ruffles his hair in frustration for himself. “There’s no use in that, Y/N. I love it that you are happy. That’s all.”
“That’s clearly not all, Taehyung. What do you take me for? I know we haven’t been speaking in the past three months, but I still know you. Tell me.” You persuade in visible concern, scooting closer to look him right in his eyes, successfully making it harder for him to think straight.
“Y/N, I don’t want to say it. Please. Nothing will change, and I don’t want it to. I promised not to.”
You stare at him, nearly begging. “Please. Please let me know.”
He huffs, realizing you are too persistent to even comply with his request of letting it go. And who is he to say no? “Okay. But please don’t hate me after this—I… I don’t want what happened to us in the past three months to happen again.” You instinctively nod, as you yourself w will anything in your power to never let it happen again.
“I know these words are three months too late, but I like you, Y/N. I like you. And not in that friendly way—it’s more than that—I can even say I love you. I love the way you do everything, Y/N. I love how you take care of me, I love how you love yourself, I love how selfless and passionate you are about everything, I love how polite and kind you are, I love everything about you.” It is indeed something you have been longing to hear, but you do notice something settles strangely inside your mind. You gaze up to him in questions, as those words are strangely familiar—you’d know as you have been repeating it over and over in the past three months inside your head. 
“I know you might remember—but it’s exactly what you said to me three months ago. It dawns on me, Y/N. I like all your qualities like you like mine. We are truly alike, in a totally different way. It should have been easy to understand my feelings for you.” His voice are too weak now, nothing beyond this is the words he prepared beforehand. He just goes with what his heart tells him to say.
“I am not regretting those three months. But if I may answer it again now, I want to say I love you. I really do. I don’t know why or when or how—it could be all of the moments we spent together. I love you for everything you are and are not. I love you without further thoughts. You made it so easy to love you, I am in the dark as well.”
He was beet red, and you are still unable to decipher. Sensing your evident shock, Taehyung sighs in distress and panic. He is definitely ruining all this for you. God, he really wasn’t going to scare you away. “I wasn’t going to say this, Y/N. I know you found someone else—”
“What? Found someone else? Who?” You ask in deep confusion. A boyfriend? What? It’s such a bizarre experience to be told you are dating someone else from the one person you like so much, right after he confessed.
Taehyung is now severely confused, eyes scrunched dubiously. “I.. I heard it. From people, and even Jimin. Doojoon? The boy from the bookstore. I was told you are dating him.”
Then it dawns on you, and you literally had to laugh at that one. The change of your expressions successfully makes Taehyung feel like a moron. “Doojoon? Ha—I’ll never get used to that name.”
You smile at him warmly, softly taking his palm closely to yours with the unbelievable burst of happiness inside your chest. Taehyung likes you. He seriously loves you, and confesses to you like what you expect him to. Is this even real?
You take a breathe, a warm smile formed on your lips. “Doojoon is not my boyfriend. He is actually... Jisung.”
“Jisung?!” Taehyung is already shouting, but you quickly shush him. 
“Yes. Actually a few months ago, Jisung called me and asked me to meet him—no worry, we are not heading back to that neighborhood. We are meeting in a cafe near my house. I was scared at first, but then he explained everything. His sister got sick pretty severely, and his parents asked him to come back home. They reconciled, and he ran away from his gang. Fortunately his gang never knew about the identity of his parents, but to avoid any attention he decided to change his name when meeting new people. He actually apologized to me that time for what he has done to me before. He even wanted to pay me back—but I just think it was not necessary. I prefer all the money to go to his family first.”
Your forefingers traces on his large palms, not looking straight to his eyes. “After that we got around pretty often. He told me about his family, his sisters, yup. And I met a few friends when I was meeting him, and since I was already populat as ‘Taehyung’s ex-girlfriend’ at that time, the fake news must have spread.”
Taehyung listens to you attentively, but as word goes by he is unable to bite back the toothy smile blooming on his lips. God, he never knew anything could make him happy as what you just said. “You know what? I will go and kick Jimin’s ass for telling me such fake news. He doesn’t even validate—how dare. You know it has been making me crazy for the longest time, and—”
“Crazy? Why?” You teasingly ask, and Taehyung immediately pulls you close by the arm. He rests his forehead on yours, breathing your scent. God, you can’t even imagine how much he misses this. Just to be with you, holding you close.
“You know why, you idiot. Do I need to say again? Heroically and cheesily?”
You nod. “Of course. And can you at least make it original? I think I’ll copyright my confession from now on.” You jokingly scoff, and Taehyung moves to kiss your cheek. Something literally burst inside his head—amusement, excitement, happiness to be able to finally hug you and kiss you again after holding for the longest time.
“What if I break it?” He asks with a mischievous smirk. You shrug, your fingers brushing his jaw that he need to follow every movement you made.
“I don’t know—I might have to kiss you.” You innocently smile as Taehyung giggles in amusement. Oh, how he misses talking and flirting with you again like this.
“You know what? I think I’ll say that every second of the day, girlfriend.”
You are unable to hold a loud laugh at the affectionate nickname. Who would’ve thought Taehyung would dare to say that ever? 
“Wow. You really know how to set the mood right.” You mutters, arms secured around his neck.
Taehyung finally moves to enclose his lips on yours, starting the kiss slow but still as pleasant and wonderful as ever. He knows he has all night and further on to have you close, but one thing is on his mind that he is too desperate to say to you now. “Hey, I know I can’t promise anything much, that I’ll make you always happy or any other bogus I know I can’t keep, I’m still trying. But one thing I can promise you that I’ll try my best to keep everything we have now, and in the future. I love you, Y/N.” 
This bond you have, he knows how special it is. He doesn’t not know if he’ll find anyone else that makes him feel the way you do—and he never intends to. But he really needs you on board, to help him in anyway possible. To support him throughout every hurdles or conflicts. And apparently, it is indeed everything you want from him.
You hum, crashing your lips back to him and hum in clear delight. “Seriously, that’s all I want. I know relationships can be scary, Tae—with all your previous experience. I am scared too that I’ll hurt us—but I love you too much I’d risk everything. I promise you I’ll try my best to keep everything we have now and beyond.” You whisper as a promise, swiping your thumb against his apparent cheekbone.
Taehyung pecks your lips once again. “That’s wonderful. But can you repeat that I love you one? Because I don’t think I heard it enough—”
You giggle, continuing to feel him against your lips once more. It never felt so perfect to be with Taehyung as right now, and you wish this moment can last forever. You know it might be difficult, but you are eager to see and fight for what you have with him, and where the relationships both of you will lead to. All because you love him, and he loves you too.
“I love you too, boyfriend.”
*
“What the fuck? Is this how you’re paying me back for that night, Taehyung?!” Jungkook asks furiously in the restroom of the exact restaurant Taehyung first met you nearly half a year ago.
Taehyung snickers, looking at the panicked face of his best friend, Jungkook when he sees he is not the only one in the table. Jungkook should have guessed, though. Since when Taehyung ever wanted to eat in McDonalds alone with him? He thought Taehyung was just being nice, taking him for an all-boys hangouts after getting himself a new girlfriend.
Taehyung is wearing a nice blue navy button up shirt with sleeves rolled to his mid-arm and matching cotton dark grey cotton pants and a sleek pantofel. While he? Jungkook literally just came out of practice, still wearing his sweaty ass ‘legalize it’ shirt he mistakenly brought as a change shirt, ripped jeans that show more of his thighs than he is proud of, and old, discolored vans. Meanwhile out on the table, both of the girlfriends are wearing semi formal dresses. He literally look so disoriented among the formal looking folks that he is this close to leaving if his girlfriend is not holding him back.
“You are a fucking jerk!” Jungkook spit in detectable hatred, and Taehyung shrugs menacingly as an answer.
“We are just going to have a nice double date dinner together, bro. As couples.” Taehyung sarcastically smiles and Jungkook rolls his eyes. This older man is seriously a child in disguise, and it could be a miracle how you are willing to sacrifice your sanity and decide to date his annoying ass.
“I fucking hate you.”
“Yeah, yeah whatever. But we are taking too much time in the toilet for two men and people there gonna think we are fucking. Let’s go.” Taehyung mindlessly put an arm on Jungkook’s shoulder, walking back to the desk in which you and Jungkook’s girlfriend are chatting lively. Jungkook takes a deep breath, then launches an elbow kick square to Taehyung’s rib that throws him to coughing fit to get his arms off him.
“I swear when we are done, I’ll punch you in your fucking annoying handsome face.”
Taehyung launches a flirty wink along with a chuckle. “I don’t mind you hitting on me, but my girlfriend is just right here.”
Sensing Jungkook’s distress, his girlfriend immediately welcomes him. “Baby, don’t be mad. Taehyung is clearly joking, and it is funny.” She persuades, softly pecking his cheek and albeit begrudgingly, Jungkook is unable to resist his girlfriend’s persuasion and decide to comply. Only because his girlfriend asks so.
“But I’m not letting this go, Kim Taehyung. I’ll get my revenge.” Jungkook hisses with a menacing smirk, but Taehyung easily answers by flipping him off, before humming in delight to welcome the newly arrived food.
And that’s how you spend another two hours chatting and joking with each other, and enjoying the glare and obvious attention thrown at Jungkook’s face he had to duck his head lower every time. But Taehyung clearly has not had enough, since at the end of the dinner he quickly stands up and motions you to follow the gesture as well.
“Ah, Sir Jungkook. This has been a pleasant dinner. Thank you for the treat.” He salutes, walking out with you by his side as an escape, disregarding the fact that Jungkook literally shouts his curse in the middle of a busy restaurant behind you. Yes, Taehyung is that petty and of course he’ll do anything to make Jungkook pay for what he did.
“You know, I feel bad for Jungkook.” You giggle in amusement after sitting inside Cecil. “That date literally brought us together. We literally owe him a lot, you know.”
Taehyung smiles and winks at you. “That’s why after he’s pissed beyond words at me and ready to punch me after being thrown out of this restaurant, he’ll come back to the dorm to find a new computer upgrade device he has been going on and on and on recently. It’s a foolproof plan, right?”
You nod and giggle in appreciation at his thoughtful plan, shifting your dress while waiting for the car to drive off but it is somehow taking too long. You look up to him, instinctively smile at the gaze he is transfixing in you.
“I don’t say this much, but you are very beautiful and I’m thanking my lucky star to have you as my lover.” He mutters sincerely, his fingers enclosing in each space between yours. You swiftly move to kiss him softly, right palm secured on his shoulder. Albeit short and being done literally everyday, Taehyung is still unable to wrap his head around it, as it still sends flutters to him from head to toe.
“You know you say that everyday, but go off king.” You reply with a wink, and Taehyung pinches your cheek affectionately.
“Should we go now?” He asks in excitement, releasing the break on his car. You squeal in excitement, clapping your hand in the same manner.
“Japan, here we go!”
=============================
This literally is the longest fics I have ever written it’s literally 50k words / 100 pages in docs and oof- i really go off with this one lol and thank you, it has been a very pleasant ride! As you know, there might be a following drabble in Taehyung & y/n time in japan too, so if any of yall interested, please let me know!
I could’ve made this shorter but I do think its better to develop Taehyung’s character first before he settles in the relationship☺It was a story as well, I hope anyone can take something out of it as well lol
And do tell me what you think about this fics! I really love seeing how this story affects you all, I feel really encouraged :) THANK YOU and see yall soon!💕😘
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bubbelpop2 · 3 years
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Gay and Tumblr etiquette: a guide
This is a compilation of rules that keep the lgbt community a safe space for all. A lot of the older gays are getting sick of seeing recycled bigotry, and we’re here to tell you what the general opinions are in the real world. Some of the content in this post contains not necessarily gay content, but cay culture. Gay culture is all about the lack of heteronormative toxicity, the promotion of critical thinking, teaching the youth that they need to rely on themselves and friends instead of the government, because the government doesn’t really care, and the abolition of White Christian ethics being forced onto people.
You need to read this essay. [x] You need to know your history. It’s important, you need to know it. This is the baseline you need to know. ACAB.
If you want to know more than just the baseline: [ here ]
Don’t debate transphobes, racists, or n@zis. Don’t debate them, block them. Do not reply. You are giving them a place to express themselves. This emboldens closeted racists and transphobes. Don’t do it.
If you disagree with someone who isn’t any of the above, carefully consider their argument. Could they be right? Is it a lesson that you’re just not ready for? Block them, ponder their words, and consider your stance on the subject. Only a fool walks away from an argument more convinced than ever that they are correct.
Pedophiles are not in the lgbt community. Pedophilia is not a kink nor is it a sexuality. It has been proven to be a mental illness in which the brain is shaped and ordered incorrectly. 
“Queer” Is not an inherently harmful term. It is a term that the community has reclaimed, and many people identify as queer. By calling someone who is queer “gay” or policing THEIR right to be called queer, you are erasing history. Queer is a term that people have used in the lgbt community since before stonewall. Queer isn’t your term to take away, especially if you’re not queer. 
“Gay” Is an umbrella term. If someone LIKES being called “gay”, no matter what the complex rules of their attraction are, respect it. Don’t insist that they belong in a certain box according to your definition of different sexualities. 
If someone is questioning their sexuality, don’t push them. The point is for them to FIND OUT what they’re attracted to, and what they like best. Whether they turn out to be gay, straight, bi, or ace, leave them the hell alone. Especially if they’re a kid.
“Terfs” used to be called “political lesbians” because people who were not wlw would take over lgbt spaces and advocate to “kill all men” and would point actual wlws against men. This is terrible. Bisexual wlws deserve to express their sexuality fully without judgement. Trans lesbians deserve to express their gender without judgement. ANYBODY who is amab or trans, or attracted to amab or trans people, deserves a safe place to express themselves. We got rid of these “political lesbians” and stopped them from poisoning the minds of bisexuals and trans men. We can do it again. 
(” queer is a slur “ was started by terfs. stop saying it if you’re not a terf.)
Nonbinary is not a fad. Nonbinary people have always existed. It is not new, and you are not allowed to police other people’s gender.
There are a lot of things to gender as a whole. Your gender, what you identify as, is a large part of your identity. Some people identify as female, some people identify as male, and some people identify as neither, both, or any combination of any other genders! This may be confusing, but that’s okay. You don’t need to completely understand someone’s gender, and someone may not even understand their own! What IS important is that you respect their gender expression.
Gender expression is mostly just two things. Pronouns, and Presentation. Pronouns (He/She/They/Xhey/Ect) are for the person who has them. Pronouns don’t have to “match” your gender. Your presentation doesn’t have to “match” your gender, either. It’s all about your comfort. You don’t have to understand someone’s gender identity, but you DO have to respect their name and pronouns. Always.
Mogai is a great term, even if it’s not popular. Mogai is an all-inclusive term for all people who are not allocishet.
Being ace does not make you straight. Being aro does not make you straight. Straight = You are actively and wholly attracted to the opposite gender. It is the lack of attraction to the opposite gender that includes them in the community, as well as the constant harassment from both straight and gay people for being “broken”
“Femboy” Is not an inherently harmful term. Calling a trans woman a “Femboy” without her permission is. People who use the term to refer to themselves, or to refer to people who are comfortable with the term, are not infringing upon anybody. You need to stop taking away terms from gay people because of what transphobic pieces of shit do. Yes, shitty transphobes refer to trans women in porn as femboys. This doesn’t mean that who the term was ORIGINALLY meant for, which is, gay feminine men, can’t use it to describe themselves. This is far too similar to “queer is a slur” for me to change my mind on this. A lot of people identify as femboys, and use the term for their comfort, leave them alone.
Truscum and Trumeds are gross. Their entire personality is built off of policing other trans people’s identities. They want trans people to act like they’re cis, and conform to heteronormative societal standards. Their opinion is that it’s flamboyant trans people’s fault that cis people are transphobic. Which is simply not true. Transphobes are Transphobes because they’re bigots. It is never, in any shape or form, the fault of the oppressed for being oppressed. Ever.
Your love for the oppressed should come before your hatred of the oppressor. This does not mean that you expressing your hatred is “performative” in any way. You’re allowed to hate the oppressor, verbally, and often, so long as you, personally, know which is more important.
It is not okay to call people out. Calmly talking to people, or simply blocking them, is best. It is not okay to send hate anons. It is not okay to interact with bigots willingly. It is not okay to do something that is mean-spirited.
Be gay do crimes. (As in, fuck the police, they’ve always been against every minority. Including us.)
Disabled people are beautiful and loved. All gay spaces should be accessible.
The people that lead the protest that sparked lgbt rights across the world were black trans women. Remember that. Remember it good and well. 
Autism isn’t shameful. People with autism are worthy of respect and admiration.
Punk culture is antifa and gay culture. Bigots like punk fashion, and dress in punk fashion. We call these people “posers” and they should be beaten if spotted being a bigot at a punk function. Punk culture is all about being against the systemic oppression of the lower class and marginalized. Many punks go to protests for human rights and better work qualities. 
It is neve okay to police someone else’s identity. Period. 
It is never okay to police someone’s kinks. Pay attention to actual abusers and rapists, not fictional and 100% consensual scenarios.
Child touchers get their heads bashed in with baseball bats.
It’s not okay to bully people for shipping anything. Yes, anything, including abusive ships. Quit telling people to kill themselves over fictional people. What you SHOULD be worried about, is straight white boys who romanticize REAL abuse towards REAL people, not people just minding their own business and expressing themselves via FICTIONAL characters. Don’t tackle ships, tackle rape culture in real life. Go outside. 
It is never okay to police someone’s writing, art, or artistic expression. Yes, dark and violent content included. The idea that you can be punished for thoughts or expression of thoughts, regardless of if you’ve ACTUALLY harmed anyone, is white and Christian purity culture. If you think this is okay, read this: [x]
The above is in the same mindset of soccer moms that say “people who play video games are inherently violent” which is simply not true at all. Here’s an interesting post on a similar topic that will interest you: [x]
Just follow lace code. Doc martens have a lace code in the punk community, If you’re not a racist, follow the lace code. 
mosh pit etiquette [x]
more about gay punk: [x]
That’s all I could think of for now! Any other queer elders wanna have a stab at it?
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