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lov3nerdstuff · 4 years

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Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 3.6}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student (however no underage romance), blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 5.8k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

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Unsurprisingly, working with Snape was absolutely demanding and still (or therefore) absolutely delightful. The Sunday evening they had started the slow process of making the potion, Robin had mostly watched Snape working and listened to him explaining what he was doing as he moved along. But over the days and weeks, she was allowed to do more and more herself, and somehow, miraculously, a second chair had found its way to the laboratory by the end of the third week. Being allowed to do more practical work, however, had come at the cost of Snape correcting literally everything Robin was doing for a good amount of time. Whether it was cutting something up, separating something else, or even something as simple as stirring… he always had something to complain about.

Robin loved every second of it dearly, even though she would accidentally sass him sometimes in return to his corrections of whatever she did. There also was no denying that she was learning more than she had ever expected, and even though the times when they actually had to work on the potion were not more frequent than two to three nights a week, she always looked forward to it from the very moment she left the lab in the first place.

Unfortunately the two months came to an end eventually, and Snape summoned her to the lab on a Saturday night in December to bring their work to an end with the very procedure this all had led up to. The restoration of the page. Honestly, Robin didn't know what to expect of it. They still had no idea what was hidden on that page, but she felt honoured that she was allowed to be here for the final revelation nonetheless. He was by no means obliged to keep her around at any point, especially not now, and Robin was well aware of that, which was what had led her to be all the more grateful in return.

"What do you think we will find on that page, professor?" She asked as she sat on her stool, observing how he placed the old book on the table, opening it to the two pages that enclosed the missing one.

"If I knew, we would not have to go through with this entire procedure."

"I know that you don't know… But what is your assumption? What do you think is worth hiding like this?"

"I do not know, Miss Mitchell." He sighed, but then turned to her as he lifted an eyebrow. "What is your assumption then, if you expect me to have one?"

"Well… I've actually spent quite some time thinking about this." She smiled to herself for a moment. Truth be told, she had been thinking about little else over the course of the last two months. "Seeing as this page is probably from the Renaissance, it would be something THEY deemed worth hiding. So I asked myself: What was worth hiding in the 15th and 16th century? The answer would be: basically the same as today. Sex and power, the driving forces of mankind since the very beginning. Now, I honestly doubt, or rather I want to doubt, that this entire spell is about sex, so I'm staying with power. The means to power are control and protection, which leaves us basically with weapons and security. Now back to the Renaissance: as far as I remember and as far as the library here allows me to research, most of the European countries weren't actually counties but basically a rag rug of principalities and such. That again leads me to believe that wars, especially of the magic kind, weren't actually fought on a scale large enough that would bring forth a weapon strong enough to be worth hiding like this. That leaves us with security, and thus protection. Which is, to finish this off, what I believe this page is about. A protection spell."

Mildly amused and badly hiding it, Snape raised an eyebrow at her once again. "You seem fairly confident in your thesis."

"If I wasn't confident in it, it would hardly be a thesis worth upholding." Robin smirked. "I would even bet my non-existent birthday presents on it."

"If they are non-existent, that statement hardly counts for anything, does it?"

Now Robin had to laugh out loud indeed. "True, unfortunately. But I'm still fairly certain about my thesis."

"Then we shall see if you are correct." Snape mused and finally moved on to follow the instructions in Robin's literature spell book. First, one had to make the potion. They'd done that already, at least. Then the potion would have to be drizzled over the part of the spine on the inside of the book where the page was missing. Snape allowed Robin to do this step, and it admittedly was an easy task, but she was only too happy to get to do something in this procedure at all. Next, the actual spell had to be spoken, which Robin gladly left for her professor to do, as she honestly didn't even know how to pronounce the words she'd read on the page. After that was done, the instructions merely said to wait, and then they would be done. So that's what they did, merely sitting on their stools and staring at the book while waiting for something to happen.

"Do you think it worked?" Robin asked after five minutes of silence, when still absolutely nothing had happened

"Yes."

"I honestly can't believe it was this easy after freaking two months of making that potion."

"Luckily efficiency not always correlates to effort."

"I hope you know that I'm very grateful that I got to help you in this, sir, no matter how difficult or easy it is. I've learned so much, and I truly believe that I've never felt so filled with… passion, and joy, and curiosity, in anything ever before."

"I know." It was a simple statement, but Robin understood what he meant to express. He wouldn't have made an effort to teach her any of the things she'd learned if he didn't know she appreciated it.

"Good." She returned with a smile, then looked at the book once more only to jump in her seat. "Bloody hell! It's glowing! It's actually working!"

Snape rolled his eyes, but still had to suppress the not-smirk at the same time, which was only a partial success, seeing as Robin still noticed it. "Of course it's working, Mitchell, get over it."

"Sorry." She bit her lips and tried to contain her sheer excitement, but it honestly was difficult. It was actually working! "It's just… a spell I found, in my book, with a potion we made, restores your book page! How amazing is that!"

"You seem to have had fairly few successes in your life if you get that excited over this one."

"Well, all successes I've ever had were utterly unimportant in the grand scheme of things. Getting good grades, winning minor quarrels, scaring scummy shop owners… It wasn't anything worth mentioning. But this could be something amazing! Something that actually matters!"

"We will see in just a short moment." He mused, then turned towards the book and once the page was entirely restored at last, he went to read it over once, twice, another time…

"And?" Robin asked anxiously, after giving him almost fifteen minutes to read that one single page. Nobody needed that long to read a couple words!

"Shush."

She rolled her eyes, but complied. If the past two months had done anything, they had proven to her that the odd amount of trust she put into Snape was actually justified. And thus she waited another ten minutes until he finally turned to her with a grave expression.

"Is… is it something… bad?" Robin tried again, and her insecure frown met his stoney gaze for a moment until she looked back at the book.

"You should read it." Was all he said, before standing up from his stool and busying himself with whatever he could to obviously distract himself from whatever it was he had just read. To think about it, perhaps.

In an instant Robin's eyes were glued to the book. It was a protection spell indeed! The grin was on her face immediately, and she felt proud to have come to the right conclusion. As she read on, everything became a bit clearer, and yet also a great deal more confusing. It wasn't a spell… it was a potion. After reading it a second time, she looked up from the book and her eyes found her professor's across the room. "Quite frankly, I'm not sure I understand."

"I would be surprised if you did."

"Why?"

"Because I am not certain I understand it either, and I would much prefer if I didn't."

"What?!" Robin frowned at him in honest question. "Why would you hope you don't understand? What exactly is it you believe to understand?"

"You were the one to guess that it was a protection spell. Why don't you tell me what you understand?"

"Alright…" Robin sighed and let her eyes travel over the page once more, before looking back up at Snape. "As far as I got any of this, it's a potion, not a spell."

"Good. Go on."

"Well, it is supposed to protect the person drinking it from the influence of any kind of magic. But not their own, somehow. So… it's like a two-way mirror, kind of. Nobody can magic you, but you can magic everyone else."

"Precisely."

"But…" Robin added reluctantly.

"But?" Snape frowned in return, clearly not having expected her to continue.

"Yeah, but…" Robin frowned as well, as she looked at the page once more. "It seems like this spell will only protect…" She stopped there, feeling like this was probably a really silly thought. If Snape hadn't understood it this way, it was probably wrong anyway.

"Do go on." He encouraged, or rather demanded though.

"It sounds like it only protects half bloods. Or maybe also muggle borns, I'm not sure… but definitely not pure bloods."

In an instant, Snape was by her side and looking at the book as well in an astonishing intensity. "Where did you read that?"

Robin pointed to a paragraph at the bottom of the page. "Here it says 'Only thee who is't hast ventur'd both worlds shalt beest the one who is't dwells in the safety of the beshrew's blessing'. In my opinion that would roughly translate to 'Only you who has ventured both worlds shall be the one who dwells in the safety of the curse's blessing' in modern day language. And seeing as the entire book is a mixture of the muggle and wizarding world, I just thought that those are what's meant with 'both worlds'. The only people who usually know both worlds are muggle borns or half bloods. So… yeah."

Snape read the short paragraph again, then looked up at Robin in sincere astonishment. "I believe you are right, Miss Mitchell."

"Wait, what? Really!?" Robin stared back at him in equal surprise and doubt, eyes wide as they searched for any sign of mock in his own. But he was entirely serious.

"It seems fairly obvious now that you pointed it out, but I must admit… I failed to notice it before." He commented, reading the paragraph yet another time.

Had he just-... No, surely not… but he definitely had admitted that she had found something he hadn't, right? Right?! Robin was too stunned to even give any proper reply, so she simply offered him a happy half smile.

"However I am not certain if this means that pure bloods cannot make the potion, or if it will not affect them, in disregard of the ones who made it." He mused after a few seconds, and Robin finally snapped out of her daze as the words sunk into her brain.

"Them?" She asked before she could stop herself from saying anything at all. "Do you mean… you're not…?"

Immediately he shot her a defensive glare. "That is not even remotely of your concern."

"I'm sorry." Robin replied quickly and while she still felt curious, she also regretted bringing it up. "I really didn't mean to pry, sir."

"Simply forget about it, will you?" He murmured, then turned towards the book once more.

"So… why does it matter if they cannot make it or if they merely cannot use it?" Robin asked for the sole sake of a change of topic.

"You know the answer to that." He replied with a pointedly annoyed expression.

"I do indeed…" Robin whispered to herself, then looked at the book in front of her, and finally to the ingredients on the shelves. She really had screwed this up, hadn't she… It had been truly stupid to ask him something that personal. "Sorry…"

"Don't apologise. You had a crucial part in the project, and this discovery is your merit as well as it is mine. A potion like this has been searched for for centuries, and would any of this become known… It would be revolutionary."

"...would? We're not going to… to tell anyone about it?" Robin asked in surprise, and a mild twist of disappointment. "But… we can try it out at least, right?"

"No." He replied with a quiet solemnity that made Robin's heart sink even further. "This potion is dangerous, more so than you likely realize."

"But how? Why?!" Robin asked in desperate incredulity. "What's wrong with protecting yourself against your enemies? This potion could help so many people…"

In a moment's notice, Snape turned to Robin entirely, not even an arm's length away, and looked down at her with such a seriousness and intensity that she inevitably shuddered. "Nobody can know that this potion exists. Not a single soul but you and me, do you understand that?"

"I do." Robin replied quietly, as she still looked up at him with sad eyes. "But please, at least tell me why."

"Promise me that you will never lose a single word about it to anyone but me. Not the other teachers, not a friend, not even Professor Dumbledore or the Minister of Magic himself." He really seemed to be dead serious about this, and Robin started feeling sick with anxiety again. If he truly wanted her to swear her silence, he had a reason to.

"I promise." She replied in complete seriousness and utmost honesty. "I don't know if it means anything to you, but I promise."

"It does." He replied a little less gravely, and took a step backwards, out of her personal space. "Coming from you, it does."

"Can you… please tell me why this is so dangerous? Please… I just wanted to understand." Robin tried once more after a moment of silence, not even caring if her begging was pathetic, but she needed to know.

"Do you know Oscar Wilde, Miss Mitchell?" He asked completely out of context, or so it seemed, and Robin only looked even more lost.

"Yes, I… I've heard of him."

"I thought so. He supposedly said: 'Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth'." Snape made a small pause, and Robin considered the quote for a moment before he spoke on. "In my eyes, the same principle applies for might. Make someone believe they are invincible, and they will show their true self in their actions. Now, I'm certain you are aware of the propensity of mankind to oppress their oppressors, if given the chance. What do you think would happen to the muggle borns after centuries of being oppressed by the pure bloods, if they gained access to a potion that makes them invincible?"

"Oh…" Robin's face softened from pouting incredulity to actual understanding, but her chest still felt painfully small for her thudding heart. "It-it could lead to some very serious damage in the world, I guess. There's always someone willing to start a revolution… but we mustn't give them an opportunity for that." She finally concluded on her own, nodding to herself as if to help the words sink into her mind and shake out the disappointment.

"Precisely." He confirmed, back to neutrality if not even a subtle touch of calmness. "That is why nobody can know of its existence. Do you understand that now?"

"I do… and I agree, even. I just didn't really consider that something so good could be used for something so bad." She sighed, picking at the buttons of her shirt subconsciously rather than by choice, and looked from Snape down to the book. "What do we… what will you do with it?"

"The very same thing the previous possessor did. Destroy the page, keep the book of nonsense safe." He replied as he sat back down on his own stool, and Robin could feel his eyes on her even though she kept staring at the book to hide her tears.

"So all efforts were for nothing, huh?" Her voice was throaty and thick, and Robin felt like they got stuck in her chest in the first place. She had been so focused on this whole thing, had put so much of her heart into it… and now it would be destroyed, and thus every chance of possibly continuing this out of class work with Snape was over once and for all. That maybe –no, definitely– was even worse than the loss of this remarkable potion that had been lost in the first place anyway.

"Will you stop being so dramatic, now…" He gave right back, feignedly scolding, but it did its job and Robin pulled herself together as he spoke on. "Nothing about this project by any means was in vain, seeing as we both learned a valuable lesson. And wouldn't you say it was our aim to solve a mystery rather than strive for material gain?"

Once again, Robin had to realize that Snape was right. Of course he was... It was ridiculous to be upset over this, she should be happy indeed that they had actually managed to solve the mystery. That she had gotten to help, and that she had gotten to learn so much over the last two months. In this new light, the tears stopped burning in her eyes and she could blink them away before looking up at her professor with an attempted half smile. Better.

"We definitely did solve the mystery." She said, and the smile reached her eyes a moment later. "And I definitely learned a lot from all of this, and from you, professor. It truly was a joy."

"Your understanding of joy is rather curious, if you consider being constantly corrected one."

"I consider potions a joy. And learning." Now she had to smile for real, and the sadness faded from her mind like clearing fog. This wasn't the end.

"That is… acceptable."

Robin had to snort at his choice of words. "It's 'acceptable'? May I ask, what did you learn, sir, if you say we both learned something from it? Is it just the spells and potions or… something else?"

His face went straight back into stony nothingness, and Robin believed she had said the wrong thing again as he got up and walked across the room to fetch an empty bottle, probably to store the remainder of the potion.

"I learned that at least one person in this school full of dunderheads is worth my time and efforts." He finally replied, likely as indifferently as he could manage, but the words were clear enough even without any means to convey them appropriately. Professor Snape deemed Robin worth his teaching. He didn't regret allowing her to help. Maybe he would even let her do it again. Robin's smile widened into a grin before she could help it.

"That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me, I believe." She smirked before she could think better of it.

"Who said I was speaking of you?" Came his immediate reply, but now both his tone and expression clearly gave away the obvious tease. Robin found herself enjoying it… those extremely rare moments when he wasn't void of any sentiment, on the outside.

"I beg your forgiveness for being so pridefully assuming." She laughed, and there it was again, the sarcasm she got scolded for more often than not. And still Robin couldn't wipe the smirk off her face.

"Forgiveness granted."

"That was easy…"

"Careful."

"I'm in the potions master's private laboratory… whatever else would I be but careful?" While her tone was still anything but serious, he actually seemed quite pleased with her statement, and that made Robin smile even more. Slowly her cheeks were starting to hurt again… it was odd how she always seemed to go through a wide array of emotions in the shortest time spans whenever she was around Professor Snape. He was irritating, and everything he did was too. That must be it.

While Snape filled the remainder of the potion into the bottle he had just retrieved, and then labeled it and put it away into one of the shelves, Robin looked over the page with the dangerous-protective potion again (she couldn't find a name anywhere and thus that's what her mind had labeled it, for now). Would destroying it really prevent it from being found in the future? Sure, Snape was brilliant, but if a potions professor and a third year student could restore it almost by chance, then who said nobody else would in the future?

"Professor… can I ask you something?" Robin started her attempt to voice just that thought in a way that wouldn't possibly sound like an insult to him.

"You may ask, but there is no guarantee that I will answer."

"So… I was wondering if the spell we used to restore the page in the first place, and with spell I mean potion and spell and the entire thing, if, you know…" Just get the question out, idiot! "Don't you think someone like us will eventually do the same thing we did? I mean restoring the page that you're destroying now. Wouldn't that simply be a delay of things, if the next person finding it isn't as considerate of its dangers?"

He seemed to really consider her words for a moment, which he had done quite often over the last weeks actually, before he looked at Robin when answering. "That is possible, yes."

"So maybe… a repetition of history wouldn't necessarily be the… best idea?" Robin suggested vaguely and already made a face that clearly showed what she expected him to reply with. A scold, namely.

"What would you suggest I do instead?"

Now, she hadn't expected that. But she'd take the opportunity to voice her thoughts a little more in detail. "So this is the point where my logic kind of depends on my very limited knowledge of things, but… I was thinking, if there really isn't another possibility but to restore the page with a spell-potion-whatever thing like we did, then one should consider how the process of restoration works. From what I understand, the spell in my book refers to the destruction of the page itself which is, kind of, reverted by the procedure we just did as well. Seeing as you said two months ago that all the book restoration spells you tried didn't work in this case, that would –with a bit of corners and loops– mean, in the end, that the page needs to be destroyed first to be restored in the book. If it's not destroyed, while it simply being taken out of the book wouldn't qualify as destroying it I believe, one couldn't restore the page with the book alone."

"So?"

"So… You could take the page out of the book, but NOT destroy it. Because if the only means to getting the page back into the book is a restoration spell or potion, which in return only works if the page was destroyed in the first place, then nobody will be able to get their hands on the page if they have the book." Robin suddenly wasn't so sure about her idea anymore… what if he deemed it stupid? But she'd already voiced too many dumb thoughts around him to let that stop her now. "That of course would still leave open the possibility for the page itself to be found, when it's not destroyed, especially since it's no longer hidden by the book… However if you find out just what exactly counts as for the page being 'destroyed', you could always do something else to it to make it useless. Something that doesn't count as destroyed, and thus will make a restoration impossible, but will also make the page useless. In the end you will thus have a useless book, and a useless page, and neither can be made to function again."

"Where, pray tell, did you get that idea from in this instant?" He raised an eyebrow at Robin, but otherwise didn't give away what he thought of her suggestion. Idiot…

"I… think. A lot." Robin replied lamely. "I mean, I don't know much, and I can do even less, but I'm fairly decent at thinking… I think."

Snape rolled his eyes at that admittedly silly statement, and Robin tried to force the heat out of her face. For a minute, it was completely silent.

"Your mind truly is an ever-surprising quarry to delve in, Miss Mitchell…" He commented then, with a frown and a curious look at her, and while it wasn't really a compliment, his words still made Robin shiver for some reason. "I will consider your suggestion before making my decision about what is to do with the page and the book."

"Thank you, sir. I'm just glad it wasn't complete nonsense." Robin replied with a nervous chuckle, then scooted herself off her stool and awkwardly took a step towards the door before turning back once more. "Uhm, is there… anything else for me to do tonight?"

"If I'm not mistaken, you have an essay to write for my class." Aaand he was entirely back in professor-mode, scowl, bored indifference and all.

"I finished it last night, sir."

"I assigned it last night, Miss Mitchell."

"Yes, and I wrote and finished it after dinner. Proofread it this morning. Edited it this afternoon. All done now."

"The class really is too easy." Snape sighed dramatically. "Unfortunately, all the other students would fail if I made it any more difficult."

"Don't they fail as it is already?" Robin whispered more to herself than to him, and still received a glare and a not-smirk in return.

"Goodnight, Miss Mitchell." He said after two more seconds of silence, and Robin understood a polite invitation to leave when she heard one.

"Goodnight sir." She gave back before she let herself out, with a smile that didn't leave her face for the rest of the night.

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It was almost a month later when Robin heard about the book, and the dangerous-protective potion again. Just as last year, she had decided to stay in the castle over Christmas break. However this year she actually knew from the start what she would be doing, and Professor Sprout seemed rather delighted about Robin's enthusiasm to help her out again. But one thing did change in comparison to last year. This year, Robin received a Christmas present. Not in the traditional sense, admittedly, but to her it would always be one all the same.

Seeing as she would only get the money from her parents once she would go home in the summer, Robin hadn't exactly expected to be given anything at all. And it surely wasn't given to her the way she would expect either. While usually the students who stayed here over the holidays received their presents in the common room upon Christmas morning, this is not how Robin came to hers.

Christmas arrived in a whirlwind of snow and cold, just like last year, and it also went that way again. Robin worked in the greenhouse most of the time, but occasionally she would be sent to Hagrid's for a change. She hadn't really had much contact with the man in question before this particular Christmas break, but seeing as Professor Sprout didn't require her assistance every single day, the herbology teacher still was kind enough to refer Robin to the gamekeeper. He wasn't the brightest fellow, admittedly, but good-natured and kind to the bone, and that made Robin like him in an instant. She helped him out with all kinds of things, from taking care of the magical creatures (which she unfortunately knew nothing about since she hadn't taken this particular class) to simple work in the school garden, and admittedly, she did learn a lot from Hagrid, too.

In the evenings Robin would still come to sit in Snape's classroom, alone, for she still couldn't stand to be in the common room even though it had become rather deserted. The overwhelming panic she had felt in the beginning of the term hadn't been back since, but Robin assumed that it was solely due to the fact that she had been avoiding situations that made her panic in the first place at all costs. Christmas came and went this way, without a present, but with a good lot of practical work every day. She actually felt content, with enough decent company throughout the day, and enough time to read by herself at night. The only thing that nagged at her mind from time to time was the absence of a certain potions professor from the classroom or his office in the evenings, but then again, she reasoned that since he still showed up for most meals, he surely was fine. Still, she felt worried about him. A little. An appropriate amount. It was perfectly normal to worry about someone you usually saw every day. Almost. She didn't let his absence stop her from making good use of his classroom every evening though. The first night she didn't spend in there was New Year's.

After her work of the day in the greenhouse was done, she got cleaned up and tidied her part of the room, then wrapped herself in her warmest clothes, and in sweet remembrance of last year headed out into the arcades that surrounded the courtyard at roughly eleven. With a soft smile she sat down in the same arch as last year, crossed her legs underneath her, and started to read her book on the care of magical creatures. Maybe she could convince some people to let her join the class after the holidays, if only she caught up with the class material before then. It's what she'd been trying to do ever since the first day of working for Hagrid, when she had discovered that magical creatures actually were a very much similar subject to herbology when it came to its usefulness for potions.

"Becoming predictable, are we?" Snape's voice called out to her even before he was anywhere to be seen.

"I'd rather say I've been spending surprisingly little time out here this Christmas." Robin replied with a smile, but kept her eyes on the book. At least she hadn't jumped again.

"What are you reading this year?"

"The textbook for the 'care of magical creatures' class. I thought about convincing whoever teaches it currently to let me join the class after the holidays."

"Where does the sudden interest stem from?" His voice had gotten closer now, and Robin believed he had once more taken a seat in the arch next to hers.

"It's surprisingly handy to know a bit about the creatures whose body parts and liquids we use in potion making. Just like it's useful to know herbology." She smiled to herself, eyes still on the book while yet she had stopped trying to read.

"Clever."

"That's what I’d rather hoped."

"Consider it done."

"What exactly?"

"Your inquiry to participate in the class. I will speak to Professor Kettleburn, and he will let you join once term resumes."

"Wha-... Thank you! That's… amazing! Really, thank you so much." Robin's eyes finally lifted off her book and she looked towards the arch next to her, but yet again could see nothing more than stone and ornamentation.

"Yes, well… just do me the favor and make sure you are not ahead of the class right on the first day already." He mumbled in the usual discomfort upon being thanked, and still Robin had to snicker at the comment.

"Then I better stop studying their textbook now and leave the last two chapters for another day." She commented with a grin, and indeed closed her book in her lap only to rest her forearms on it to lean forward just enough to get a glimpse of her professor in the next arch. He looked gnarlier than usual, if one could even say that about someone that young, and Robin seriously wondered what he'd been up to during the holidays. But it wasn't her place to ask.

Thus they merely sat in silence yet again, watching the snow falling slowly and calmly as the minutes ticked by without their notice. Robin did wonder for a moment why Snape was out here with her, but she dismissed the question when she couldn't even tell the reason why she was here herself. Maybe it was the calm, or the solitude. Even if technically it wasn't solitude in the first place, with it being the two of them, but still it was like solitude from all the stupid people. Just two people who understood the silence like a part of themselves. At least that's what Robin thought, and for her it was a good enough theory to stick to.

At last it was the noise coming from Hogsmeade again that made Robin aware of the turn of years, and she smiled to herself as she realized that she had spent another new year's out here with the potions professor. Maybe it was turning out to be an odd little tradition, just like Professor Sprout's –who had told Robin that she always spends new year's sitting in her room's window with a piece of cake, watching the fireworks in the distance– which she had told Robin about the other day. While Robin found the herbology teacher's tradition quite charming, she preferred her own that hopefully would come into existence for real. Just Snape, and silence, and darkness, and Robin. She could very well live with that. Too well, perhaps.

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sunflowerhoney · 3 years

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All the flower asks please 🥰🥺💗

hehehehe of course! 🥰🥺💓💓

rose - describe your crush.

Oh gosh where do I even start hehe they’re so kind and patient and understanding. They’re so funny and we have the most amazing inside jokes. I can spend hours talking to them about anything in the world. They always help me when I’m feeling scared or anxious and never make fun of me or belittle my feelings, they help me take deep breaths when I’m feeling anxious and I know that they’re always there if I need them no matter when it is. They are also so, so beautiful and they have the most gorgeous smile and beautiful blue eyes. (Oh and they’re you 🥰)

cherry-blossom - do you believe in love at first sight?

Not love necessarily I don’t think but I think you can be interested in someone at first sight or recognize that you’re attracted to them

daisy - what’s your best childhood memory?

Hanging out with my brother at this random wedding we went to for my stepdads family, I was maybe like 10? And had never been to a wedding (or really anywhere fancy lol) and I remember we were just like :o the whole time and all of the adults were busy and not really paying attention to us and we were just going around exploring the venue and the hotel all night, I can just remember it so vividly and how fun it was at the time

daffodil - which colour suits you best?

I think I look best in yellow or dark red!

peony - do you put more value in honour or truth?

I’d say truth I think

iris - favourite 90s song?

Steal My Sunshine by Len

sunflower - sun or moon?

Ah both I think! But maybe moon just a bit more hehe

narcissus - your best physical feature?

My freckles!

freesia - are you still friends with the person you considered your best friend two years ago?

Yes! She’s been my best friend since high school

orchid - favourite fruit?

Strawberries or peaches

violet - have you had your first kiss?

Yes

gypsophila - do you prefer many distant friends, or a few close friends?

Definitely a few close friends

gerbera - neon or pastel?

pastel

carnation - does true love exist?

Yes and I’m so glad that I found it with you 🥰

alstroemeria - dream vacation?

I would love to travel to different countries throughout Europe!!

anemone - were you ever interested in greek mythology?

Yes I had a huge greek mythology phase in middle school and then again in high school (sometimes I’ll randomly get re-interested in things again after a while lol)

cymbidium - sexuality?

Lesbian! :)

rhododendron - what’s your biggest fear?

Throwing up because of my emetophobia but also being really sick in general and also dying

tulip - lucky number?

19 and 319

gladiolus - who do you look up to most?

My boss from my last job, she was so passionate about what we did and helping people and she worked so hard to get to the position she was in. She’s the kind of person that will always help or listen to someone no matter what and I really aspire to be like her in work and just as a person in general!

snapdragon - favourite mythical creature?

Mermaids!

hydrangea - proudest moment?

Presenting/completing my thesis my senior year of college and also learning to accept my sexuality and love myself after spending a long time being really scared and ashamed and not liking who I am

heather - what’s your favourite musical?

Into the Woods

delphinium - what’s your star sign - does it suit you?

Pisces (by literally one day lol) and I personally think it describes me insanely well

ginger - least favourite food?

Olives 😖

#strawbabie-honey #answered #🥰🥰🥰🥰

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anika-ann · 3 years

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OK so I failed my placement at uni which was a huge wake up call because it made me realise that I'm not ready for the course because I haven't fully realised what the job entails therefore I'm not 100% sure the degree I'm studying for is the right one. So I'm formally suspending my studies so I can figure out what I actually want to do. I'm only 20 so I have my whole life ahead of me. And if it turns out I chose the wrong course then it's not the end of the world right? I'm so terrified about the financial consequences and whether I can go back to the uni under a different course. But I have to be an adult and face the consequences because that's life you know. But I am soooo scared yet excited at the same time. I'm nuts right? (Also sorry for ranting I feel like I need to get this off my chest and you're the most kindest person I can talk to) (and also hope all goes well with your thesis and your writing is BRILLIANT!)

Hi, sweet nonnie!

There is absolutely no need to apologize for ranting, god knows I rant too 😁 honestly though, for one I feel kinda honoured to be at the receiving end 😊

Our educatinal system is a bit different (I don't suppose you're Czech) and tuition is as well.

But! You totally (maybe unintentionally) adressed the right person in the respect of this being relatable! I'm sure we're not alone in this! 🙈

I'm sorry to hear you didn't succeed and I'm sorry if it sent you down the spiral of overthinking. But describing it as a wake up call makes me think there's sth good about it too 😊

I spent four years in medical school before and choosing sth entirely different. I'm a bit extreme in that, but it is absolutely natural that people in their twenties (20 included) are still searching for their own self! I understand the system works in certain way, but so many people get caught up in studying and working jobs they don't want to do, because it doesn't fit them, because when they made their choice, they were still learming about the world - and themselves! I always envied those who knew from like age 15 who they wanted to be and it actually stuck with them! 🥺

Anyway. I just want to say that I hope you'll find your calling soon and that your loved ones will support your choice. To me, choosing 'wrong' and then changing fields was not the end of the world. And not even the time spent in the wrong place was a waste of time, it helped to shape who I am and to realize who I want to be. I wish you to have that luck as well 🥰

Don't worry about adultery too much - it's a process and the notion of it alone is different to everyone. God knows many of people older than you, me included, are barely halfway there.

See, told ya'. I rant. And you're not nuts 😘

Also, thank you for your well wishes and kind words. So glad you're enjoying my writing❤

Thank you for reaching out 💗

(Well this got longer than expected, sorry for that)

#asks #reply #fare thee well

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wickedlyqueer · 4 years

Text

Wherever the wind may carry us

Nearing their graduation at Shiz, Glinda prepares for her final event as president of the university’s LGBT+ Network. Completely unaware that Elphaba has a surprise for her planned...

(Final one-shot in the Dutch High School Universe. Can be read separately).

READ ON AO3

Glinda woke up to the smell of freshly baked bread in the oven. It had only been a couple of months since she and Elphaba had found an affordable apartment, but the long wait had been worth it—no matter how many times her old roommates had set off the fire alarm. Not that Glinda had exactly deserved a ‘best roommate award’, being the girl who always had her partner over and was prone to leave her pile of dishes out for days.

But none of that mattered anymore. After a year long search they finally managed to snatch an one-bedroom apartment in the centre of Shiz. It was all they could afford for now, and though the space was a bit crammed, Glinda thought it suitable. They were just starting out after all! Only last week had Glinda gotten her final grade for her thesis and officially gotten enough credit to graduate. Meanwhile, Elphaba had been accepted as a PhD candidate at the university and would be working alongside researchers like Dr. Dillamond. Glinda had never seen them beaming as much as when they received the news.

A soft knock came from the door and Elphaba peeked their head around. “Oh good, you’re awake. Breakfast’s ready.”

“I noticed,” Glinda smiled and nestled deeper into her blankets. “Hmm, so is there a special occassion or am I just lucky?”

“Well, it’s your last day as president. I thought you deserved something nice,” Elphaba said and crouched down next to her to give her a kiss. “Morning, by the way. Did you sleep well?”

“I did. You?”

“Oh you know me,” Elphaba said as they played with Glinda’s messy and curly hair. “I fall asleep at three and wake up at seven and somehow that’s enough fuel for me to get through the day.”

“How you do it is beyond me.”

Elphaba chuckled. “Well, if you’re ready to leave your comfortable cocoon, I made us a fancy breakfast. Got freshly squeezed orange juice and warm, tiny breads waiting for you.”

“Oz, that sounds good. I’ll be there in a few, okay?”

After Elphaba left the room she checked her messages on her phone and then put on her slippers and Elphaba’s comfortable sweater that was too big for her. In the kitchen, Elphaba was still prepping some food.

“Need help?”

“Nah, I got it.”

“Probably for the best,” Glinda joked and Elphaba let out a laugh. It was no secret that her cooking skills were abysmal.

A bit of free counter space was left and Glinda decided to hop on it. Elphaba was rolling up slices of cheese and put them on a plate and added a cut stem of parsley as decoration.

“Oh, it’s a fancy fancy breakfast. You’re really going out of your way here.”

Elphaba looked up to her and smiled. “Anything for my girl. I actually thought I’d pamper you this entire day, since it's the closing of a big chapter.”

“That’s true.”

Though her initial hesitation stopped her from going to any LGBT+ meetings the first semester at Shiz, after her gender reassignment surgery, Elphaba had persuaded her to go to one of their lectures about the differences in trans identities across the globe. It had been so fascinating that Glinda kept going to every lecture or borrel she could attend. In her second year, she became part of the board and was in charge of organizing the events. She continued this during her final year of her bachelor, and when applying for a master’s programme, she got asked to become president.

“I can’t believe this is my final day with the Network.”

“Hey.” Elphaba stopped what they were doing and placed their hand against her cheek. “Don’t forget the amount of good you’ve put into the world. You created this welcoming space for every queer person on campus. You’ll go down in the books as a great president.”

“And the first trans woman,” Glinda was quick to add.

“That too,” Elphaba grinned and went back to cutting little cubes of cheese. “Oz, can you even imagine what high school Glinda would think of you?”

“She’d freak out and run back into the closet.”

Elphaba laughed. “Oh yeah, she would. You used to be so terrified of coming out and look at you now. Here, try this,” they said and fed her a cube of cheese.

“Hm, this is good.”

“Yeah? It’s added with buttermilk and some cumin seeds.”

“Nice. Also, what was that about pampering me all day?”

A dark blush spread across their cheeks and Elphaba busied themself with whatever was on the cutting board. “Well, I thought we ought to celebrate today. So after the meeting I reserved us a table at Peach and Kidney’s. Maybe go for a walk afterwards, watch the sun go down at that little park you like.”

Glinda was touched. “Really? That’s so sweet!”

“I thought so too. This day is all about you. I still need to go to the lab for a bit, but I should be in time for the event.”

“Dr. Dillamond called you in?”

“Yeah, he messaged me if I could come down for an hour or two.” Their eyes glazed, but it was for such a brief moment, Glinda thought she must have imagined it.

“As long as you can make it to my final event as president. I may or may not mention you in my goodbye speech.”

Elphaba smirked. “Uh oh. Should I be scared?”

Glinda hoped off the counter and drabbed her arms around their neck. She left a lingering kiss on their lips. “Never.”

That afternoon, Elphaba sprinted into the humanities faculty building, out of breath. They located the lecture hall where the event would take place and saw the doors were still open.

“Oh, thank Oz,” they breathed out heavily. They promised Glinda to meet her beforehand and almost didn’t make it in time. The lecture hall was already packed and a few students were still searching for a seat. Next to the lectern, Glinda was in light conversation with the vice president of the LGBT+ Network. Elphaba took two flight of steps at a time as they rushed down the stairs. Before they were down, Glinda had already spotted them and let out a sigh of relieve.

“Hey,” Elphaba said and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “Sorry I’m late.”

“That’s okay, we’re running a bit late ourselves. You got hold up at the lab?”

“I did, yes,” they agreed, knowing they wouldn’t come up with a more convincing lie themself.

“Okay, well, you better go grab a seat. I don’t think many more will be coming.”

Elphaba nodded. “Sure, and hey—you got this.”

“Thanks babe,” Glinda smiled.

They quickly took a seat in the second row and nervously patted their pocket to feel if it was still there. Not long after, the doors closed and the room quieted down as Glinda stepped towards the lectern.

“Thank you all for coming to our last event of this school year. Before I’ll introduce our guest speaker for today, I’d like to take a moment to say a few words. As some of you may know, this will be my last day as president of the LGBT+ Network. After this event, Jeremy will take my place, and I’m certain he’ll be able to lead this wonderful network with much care and great enthusiasm.”

She looked away from her notes and gave Jeremy a smile. “Upon meeting me, most people have reacted surprised that I am president of the LGBT+ Network. As a trans woman, I cannot help but feel flattered by this. It means I pass, it means I can live my life unnoticed,” Glinda took a breath. “But I’ve learnt more than once that this right of passing can be stripped away from you the moment people find out. This is how I got taught to hide myself and be quiet. I never took pride in my identity. It felt like a dirty secret. I was a dirty secret.”

Her gaze fell upon Elphaba and a soft smile tugged at her lips. “If not for my rock, my datemate Elphaba, I would still feel the need to hide. If they had not pushed me to go to one of these events in my first year, I would not be standing here in front of you. They taught me that, yes, queer acceptance still has a long way to go. But that spaces such as these help us be ourselves. And they were right, because it helped me become myself.”

Her voice started to crack, and Glinda paused for a moment before pushing through. “So to Elphaba, to all the wonderful board members of this network, and to each and every person who has come to these events, I want to thank you for creating this safe space for me. I hope in my two years as president, I have been able to return that favour.”

Applause rung through the audience. Elphaba whooped in support and Glinda’s cheeks coloured with embarrassment. Not that she minded, Elphaba knew that too. And why wouldn't they show how proud they are of her? If Glinda could make them turn into a pile of mush, then the least they could do was do the same for her.

“Okay, sentimental stuff out of the way,” Glinda laughed nervously as the applause died down. She switched to a different piece of paper. “Now, it is my absolutely honour to introduce professor Wertl who visits us from Qhoyre University. Her research in…”

Everything but Glinda faded to the background. It took all of Elphaba's willpower not to jump out of their seat and declare the love that was bursting out of them right in front of all these people. They dug their hand in their pocket and smiled as they felt the little box against their hand. A chapter would be closing today, that much was certain, but Elphaba was not done with their story yet.

Dr. Dillamond hadn’t asked them to come to the lab at all. Elphaba had to come up with a white lie, so they could run across town and pick up the ring they’d chosen out for Glinda weeks ago. Tonight, as they’d sit at a park bench while the sun would be dipping under the horizon, they’d ask the question they always knew they’d ask one day.

Nearly five years ago, they had been sitting on a different bench and told her they could not imagine spending the rest of their life without her. Those words had stuck true all these years through college, and now, at the verge of a brand new adventure, it was time to commit to that promise.

Life had thrown its fair share of curveballs at Elphaba, and they were sure many more were to come. But they knew they’d be strong enough to smash them right back with Glinda on their team. Nothing in life had been easier than loving Glinda. And with the ring hiding in their pocket, Elphaba would ask her if they could continue to love her. Today, and for the rest of their life.

#wicked #wicked the musical #gelphie #wicked fanfiction #gelphie fanfiction #dutch hsau #elphaba thropp #glinda upland #here. some gross domestic fluff

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raptorsandpoultry · 4 years

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Hii, I have four chickens and your posts about hens have been useful for me. Right now I'm worried with two of my chickens because one keep pecking the other when they go search for food. Also she now is very scared of me and the others too, she often stay alone and far away. Also I noticed she eat less and she is smaller than the others. Her feathers and eggs are always is a bad state :c I worry about her a lot but Im not sure what to do, I tried separating her a few times in the day

Hi anon, I’m so sorry to hear about your poor little hen.

Unfortunately it wouldn’t be responsible of me to give you too much advice without knowing more details about the situation. How big is their coop/enclosure? Do they free-range? What’s a normal day like (for all four of them)? Please don’t be afraid to DM me, I’m happy to try and help!

For starters though, feather-pecking (abnormal behaviour in which more dominant chickens peck at the feathers and/or skin of their less dominant flockmates) is a very multifaceted anomaly - similar to human psychiatric disorders such as Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, there are many genetic and environmental factors at its root. Chicken behaviour and welfare scientists who have been studying this behaviour for decades still aren’t 100% sure why and how exactly it develops. My honours undergraduate thesis project was on feather-pecking, and despite the months of work that I put in, I probably didn’t even scratch the surface of just one of the contributing factors (I have been meaning to write a post about it)!

What the research community seems to agree upon so far though is that feather-pecking is 1) a learned behaviour, 2) in part, re-directed foraging behaviour, and 3) can be triggered or exacerbated by crowding or a lack of space.

So, without being there in person to see your chicken’s living conditions and how they all interact with each other, I can give you some very general solutions. Since feather-pecking is a learned behaviour that might be a result of a lack of foraging opportunities, this means that chickens can learn to re-direct this behaviour away from their “victims”, as long as you set up their environment for this. Generally in animal training, the best way to “get rid of” an undesirable behaviour is to replace it with something else through training, or re-direct it onto another stimulus, which is usually enrichment. Enrichment is anything that encourages natural behaviour (such as pecking while foraging for food) in a healthy manner. This can include toys, a pile of leaves, food items like lettuce heads to keep the chickens stimulated and occupied...The list is endless, but what this will do is provide an opportunity to re-direct your chickens’ pecking behaviour away from their victim to their toys, food, etc. People often think it’s enough to just let their chickens out to peck around in the grass all day - it’s not. They will get bored, just like any other animal, and thus they need a variety of ways to keep themselves busy and just have fun. Lastly, if #3 applies to you, then you can do whatever you can to give your chickens more space, especially places (nest boxes, high perches, etc.) that each one can retreat to and hide in when they need to get away or have some private time to themselves.

I’ve written about enrichment a few times before, so hopefully these can give you some ideas: https://raptorsandpoultry.tumblr.com/post/182984461607/what-are-some-good-chicken-enrichment-items

https://raptorsandpoultry.tumblr.com/post/182964422255/for-todays-bonus-round-of-enrichment-ft-birds

https://raptorsandpoultry.tumblr.com/post/182895619761/manipulative-toys-are-a-type-of-enrichment-that-is

Last but not least, training is a form of enrichment too! This will definitely give your chickens some extra mental stimulation that might tone down their motivation to feather-peck, and if you focus on the little one who’s getting bullied, it will also help build her confidence and strengthen her trust in you: https://raptorsandpoultry.tumblr.com/post/175377508102/for-those-of-you-who-dont-know-i-have-been

I hope this helps. Again, please feel free to message me if you want to discuss more in detail. It’s clear that you care about each of your chickens very much, and the fact that you’re looking for advice to make things better for them is a huge step in the right direction!

Sources:

Blokhuis HJ. Feather-pecking in poultry: its relation with ground-pecking. Applied Animal Behaviour Science. 1986 Aug 1;16(1):63-7.

Hughes BO, Duncan IJ. The influence of strain and environmental factors upon feather pecking and cannibalism in fowls. British poultry science. 1972 Nov 1;13(6):525-47.

Kjaer JB, Sørensen P. Feather pecking behaviour in White Leghorns, a genetic study. British Poultry Science. 1997 Sep 1;38(4):333-41.

#ask #anonymous #backyard chickens #animal training #animal behavior #animal welfare #enrichment #husbandry #pet chickens #chicken #original post #animal cognition

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hot-tae-with-suga · 5 years

Text

This Looks Bad || 1

Summary: Taehyung and I were just horsing around, but someone took a picture, and now everyone thinks I’m cheating on my boyfriend Namjoon with one of his best friends. Which I’m not, because I don’t (let myself) think of Tae that way. And neither does Namjoon. Right?

Reader (1st person unnamed femme OC)/Namjoon/Taehyung

Idol AU

36.2K total || Rated M || Part 2 | Part 3 (final) | AO3 || Masterlist

Genre: fluff / smut / angst with happy ending || Warnings: Misunderstandings, Failure to Communicate, Bisexual characters, Threesome (in later parts), Smut (in later parts)

Originally Posted 2019-03-25

Thank you so so so much to my editor S, and my wonderful betas from the JAG discord (L, V, and D)

DOI (Day of Incident)

Balancing my laptop on the arm of a couch with my legs curled up under myself to avoid accidentally flashing someone (because my very sparkly cocktail dress was very short) was not exactly how I’d imagined I’d be writing my thesis for my doctorate. Nevertheless, my boyfriend Namjoon had asked me to accompany him to this event with some music types from Japan, and I was nothing if not a dutiful partner.

I’d been proper arm candy for the first hour, but my Japanese skills barely stretched past nodding and smiling when Namjoon did. He saw that it was starting to wear on me, so he reminded me that my laptop was still in the overnight bag he’d packed if I wanted to go get some work done. I’d kissed him on the cheek and quietly made my escape. The stylists and coordi-noonas had wandered off to the loading dock for a smoke break, or were busy in other parts of the building, so I had the place to myself for at least half an hour before I even heard anyone else.

Voices carried down the hall, but I tuned them out until someone opened the door and strode through. I looked up to see who it was, smiling when I saw Taehyung, Namjoon’s group member I was closest to. He was followed by a pretty young woman who he was speaking to about some style of art, from the few words I caught before he greeted me.

“Hey Charlotte Bronte,” he joked. “Are you hiding from the guests of honour, too?” The woman looked confused, which was rather unsurprising given Taehyung’s habit of calling me by author’s names whenever he caught me writing. Which, at the current stage in my thesis project, was pretty much all the time.

I nodded and stood, quickly bowing to the woman he hadn’t yet introduced. “Yeah, I could only understand about two out of every ten words, so Joon sent me down here.” I quickly saved the work I’d been in the middle of and closed my computer. “If you need the room or anything, I can take off, though.” Maybe not the most subtle approach, but I’d never want to be accused of cockblocking one of my best friends. If Tae was desperate enough to drag this woman to the green room in the middle of an event, I wasn’t going to get in the way of him getting some. It was hard enough to date as an idol, so they tended to take every opportunity they could if they found someone they liked.

Taehyung shook his head. “No, I’m just getting changed a bit early because it will be way too crowded once everyone is back here,” he said, moving to grab his carefully labeled stage wear from the rack in the middle of the room. “Plus, everyone out there was boring, except Park Jiyoo,” he nodded toward his companion. “We were discussing art and photography. She is a curator at a gallery in Ilsan.”

I bowed again in her direction. “Hello Park Jiyoo, I’m-”

She cut me off. “I know who you are,” she said softly. “You’re Kim Namjoon’s girlfriend.”

I chuckled and nodded. “Among other things. I’m hiding out back here to work on my thesis project, feels like it’s all I do these days.”

“Joon-hyung got a smart girl,” Tae commented from behind the folding privacy screen at the back of the room. The hanger clinked against the metal frame as he hooked it over the edge. “Cause he’s a smart boy. They’re a matched set.”

“So are you looking for your match then, Taehyungie?” I teased. Even if he wasn’t bringing Jiyoo back here to hook up right this moment, I’d be a poor friend if I didn’t at least try to play wingman. “So we need to find you a goofball with little-to-no sense of personal space?” Jiyoo giggled at that.

Taehyung stuck his head around the side of the screen, obviously unbuttoning his while dress shirt. “Don’t listen to Ms. Smart Ass, she is cruel and knows nothing.” He ducked back behind the screen again, and I could hear the sound of his belt slithering out of the loops of his pants before it came flying over the top to drape over the screen. I grabbed the belt, sliding it between my hands and then folding it in half.

“Which basically means I know everything,” I told Jiyoo triumphantly. I snapped the belt against itself, the sharp noise making Tae jump and Jiyoo squeak. “But I will admit I can indeed be cruel, to boys who deserve it.”

Tae stepped around the screen, his shirt hanging completely open and off one shoulder, gathering at his elbow, while he held up his unbuttoned pants with one fist. His eyes narrowed at me.

“Give me back the belt, noona,” he warned. I giggled and held the belt behind my back, shaking my head. “The stylists have already warned me about losing costume pieces, I don’t want to get in any more trouble.”

I shook my head again, backing up as he stepped forward. The game of keep away was familiar, reminding me of nights of drinking in the dorm or playing around after a concert as the adrenaline faded. “Nuh-uh, it makes such a fun noise. I think I’d like to use it to scare Namjoon later,” I teased.

Tae took a couple long steps towards me, gaining ground quickly since his legs were to much longer than my own. “I don’t care what kinky shit you and hyung get up to, do it with someone else’s belt!”

I stepped backwards to escape the approaching man, but I’d reached the edge of the room, where a series of tables and mirrors had been set up for makeup and hair, and Tae was in front of me before I could divert course. He reached around me with his free hand, but I twisted and bent to keep the belt out of his reach. Frustrated, he dropped the hand holding his pants up, letting them fall to the floor so he could use both arms to grab for the accessory. I was laughing, switching it from one hand to the other, trying to keep it from him even though I knew that with his superior wing span he’d pin me eventually.

That’s when we saw the flash of light.

Both of us turned to see Park Jiyoo with her phone out, the camera lens pointed at the two of us, with a look of guilty embarrassment on her face. I looked down and saw what she had been taking a picture of: a half-naked Taehyung practically groping me.

“What the hell, Jiyoo-ssi?” Tae asked sharply, and the woman looked panicked. She spun around and ran for the door, both Taehyung and I close behind her.

Tae was slowed down by his loosened pants, which had fallen around his ankles, so I was the one to slide out of the green room in my stockinged feet and shout at security to stop Jiyoo. I watched her try to evade them for a few moments, but it was a narrow hallway and they were big guys, so it wasn’t long before they caught her and took her to the venue security office.

I followed, speaking to the guard in charge. “She was backstage with us, and she took an unauthorized photo, of V,” I used his stage name, trying to impress upon them the seriousness of the matter. I crossed my arms over my chest, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. I was used to being photographed when I was out with Namjoon, but this had been a private moment between friends, and I knew the situation we were in would look incredibly suggestive, even though it had been mostly innocent.

Namjoon, Taehyung and the other members were such a big part of my life now, they acted so normal, that it was easy to forget how careful they had to be with the people around them. Sometimes that nice young woman they were talking about art with wasn’t able to be trusted with their privacy. It was a wonder they ever let anyone outside their own industry in.

Venue security turned the situation over to Big Hit’s security team, who directed me to wait nearby in case they had any questions. Taehyung found me shortly thereafter, having re-dressed himself and then wandering a bit to find the security office. He wrapped his arms around me and I leaned into him, soaking up any comfort he could offer. The other members happened to file past on their way to prepare for the performance, Namjoon breaking off to join us when he noticed we weren’t where he expected.

“Hey, what’s going on?” he asked, immediately opening his arms and pulling me close when I extracted myself from Tae and approached him. “What’s wrong, baby? You look worried.”

Taehyung’s large hand rubbed across my back where it wasn’t covered by Joon’s arms. “There was a woman, a fan maybe? I don’t know. Someone I brought back to the green room with me when I was getting changed, she ended up taking a picture of noona and me while we were goofing off. Who knows, maybe more than one,” he explained softly.

“So what?” Namjoon sounded confused. “So she got some backstage pictures? It’s not like our relationship is a secret, so what’s the issue?”

“The pictures will look bad, Joon-ah,” I mumbled into his chest where my face was still pressed. Leaning back, I added, “Tae and I...We were in a kind of compromising position.”

Tae sighed and elaborated, “I was in the middle of getting changed, noona and I were goofing around like usual. We’ll just hope they can delete the photos off the phone and send her on her way.”

Just as he said it, their head of security stepped into the hall and approached us, while one of the venue security lead Jiyoo in the opposite direction, toward the back exit. “I’m afraid I have some bad news,” the security head lead with. “She sent a couple of pictures into a group chat before they grabbed her. One of the ones that got out…” He shrugged and looked sympathetic. “Let’s say its not flattering. I’ll contact head office, they’re going to want to get ahead of the storm that’s coming.”

***

I’d been more than a little worried that the commotion might have thrown off their performance, but all the members had been doing this for too long to let a little incident like that bleed through. I’d heard tales of shows on tour that they had performed hurt, sick, and heartbroken; one little kerfuffle with a rogue fan wasn’t going to shake them.

After the event, Namjoon came back with me to my place, as we’d planned beforehand. We’d been instructed by management not to look on our SNS or any gossip sites, management would get a handle on what was happening and didn’t want us to be unnecessarily stressed. I explained to Namjoon exactly what happened in the room, every single detail at least three times, but I still wouldn’t know how bad it was until I saw the picture.

I could only imagine the worst, though, remembering that Tae was practically shirtless, his pants around his knees, pinning me to the table with his hips and reaching around me with both his arms. My dress was so short it had ridden up high on my thighs, I’d had to pull it down before running after the girl. I’d remembered more details each time I described it to Namjoon, repeating it often enough for him to accuse me of trying to turn him on with it.

I stamped my foot and crossed my arms, pouting at him. “Kim Namjoon, this is serious! I don’t want you to think I’d ever do something like that to you,” I whined. “I just want, like, full disclosure. I don’t want you to be surprised.” He moved in front of me, putting his hands on my shoulders.

“I know baby, I know you’d never cheat, that’s why I’m not worried. I trust you, and not only that, but I trust my members. Sure, Jungkook has issues keeping his hands off his hyung’s things, and I’ve seen the way some of them look at you when they think I won’t notice, but they are my family. Closer than, even, and more loyal,”Namjoon said. He chuckled to himself, adding, “And if it was going to be any of them to try something with my girl, it’d never be Taehyung.” He ran his hands down my arms and pulled me closer.

“Hmm?” I asked. “Why?” The way he’d said that last bit struck me as weird.

He looked down at me, mumbling, “I told you, I trust you.”

“Why are you so sure of Taehyung out of all of them though? Because he’s your roommate? Am I so far out of his type that he’d never be attracted to me?” Something occurred to me, and I gasped. “Is he gay?” I started to backpedal, aware of how that could sound. “I mean, its fine if he is, of course, I’d just never had any idea, and I thought he’d had a girlfriend before-”

“Babe,” Namjoon interrupted my spiral into incoherent rambling. “Tae likes girls, and I’m sure he thinks you’re very cute. Just trust me when I say that Taehyung would never think of doing something like that to me.” He bent to give me a gentle kiss that quickly turned into something hotter.

Namjoon picked me up, not breaking our kiss, and set me on the back of my couch, his arms still around me to keep me stable. “Now,” he started. “All of your talk about this potentially naughty picture kinda got me all worked up. Were you like this?” His hands on my hips slid the dress I still wore up a little further, and he pressed himself between my legs. Evidence of just how ‘worked up’ I’d gotten him tented his pants, and I moaned feeling it against my thigh.

He kissed me again, lips sliding against mine until I pulled back enough to point out, “Yeah, just like this. But Tae was wearing way less clothes.” Namjoon laughed, shrugging off his jacket and helping me with the buttons of his shirt.

1 Day P.I (Post Incident)

The next morning I accompanied Namjoon back to the Big Hit offices, which photographers captured since they were waiting for us outside my apartment building. I wasn’t even sure how they had found out where I lived, but apparently they were motivated enough to do so and caught us by surprise. Namjoon held my hand as we walked as quickly as possible toward the car the company had sent for us, hiding behind sunglasses and masks as best we could. It took at least ten minutes longer than normal to get to the offices due to the circuitous route we had to take. Once we finally arrived and rushed inside, I thought we were safe.

I hadn’t taken the other members into account though, and we were greeted with whistles and applause as we entered the conference room.

“Taehyungie-hyung, your new girlfriend is here!,” Jungkook shouted, despite the face that Tae was just two seats away from him. Taehyung lunged to slap their maknae upside the head, and Jungkook rolled away from him in his chair, rubbing the spot he’d been hit.

“How bad is it?,” I asked the room. “We haven’t looked yet.” Jin whistled, the note falling at the end, and I knew it had to be pretty bad.

“Our managers will be back in a minute,” Taehyung said, and stood to approach us with a tablet in his hand, offering it to us. Namjoon grabbed it from him, frantically scrolling up to see the picture that was the subject of the string of comments on the screen. He hissed when it finally came into view and angled the tablet so I could see.

It was a worst case scenario. The picture was cropped so you couldn’t see that Tae’s pants were technically still on (though who knows why that fact was so important to me), the way the shot was angled made it look like my arm was wrapping around his far side, and worst of all, our faces were only inches apart. I groaned and sank to the floor in a squat, wrapping my arms around my knees.

“Babe, babe, it’s gonna be okay,” Namjoon crouched down next to me, patting me on the back. Tae sank down on my other side, rubbing my arm to comfort me.

“ARMYs are going to hate me, Joon!” I cried into my arms. “I’m going to be a villain in their eyes, like from a drama!” I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes, but I managed to keep them from falling. “Tae-ah, you’re going to catch so much hate, too!”

Before he could answer there as a noise at the door as the managers returned, all looking very serious. The three of us stood up, and I ran my hands over my cheeks to make sure they were dry. Namjoon put his arm around my shoulders and I leaned into him.

“We’ve made a statement on Namjoon’s behalf, that the picture was a private moment that was taken out of context, captured by an over enthusiastic fan who was in an unauthorized area,” Manager Sejin told us, with a sharp look at Taehyung. I had a feeling he’d be getting in trouble for bringing someone “backstage” without clearing it with management. Sejin continued, “It’s a start, but we will need to do more to stay clear of a major scandal.”

I was a little worried about what exactly “more” entailed.

***

Sejin’s “more” turned out to be a complete media blackout, at least on my part. I had to take all of my SNS accounts private, or deactivate them, and I wouldn’t be able to attend any events or even be seen in public with any of the band until this all blew over. The last part would be easy enough, with Namjoon needing to concentrate on finishing their new album and my own thesis due date looming, we weren’t going to be going out together a lot anyway.

Big Hit and the group would also be making an effort to emphasize that everything was fine on their end, lots of content with Namjoon and Taehyung together on their SNS to show there was no tension between them and reassure the fans.

“I hate this,” Namjoon said, his arms wrapped around me as we sat on the couch in his studio. We’d retreated there after the meeting with the managers, to get the last bit of time together we would have for a while.

I nodded. “Me too,” I agreed. “But, we’ll make it through this, right? Its not like we were going to see each other a lot in the next few weeks anyway, with our own obligations we’ll be so busy.” I twisted in his arms to be able to see his face. “We’ll text and call and FaceTime.”

Namjoon smiled. “You gonna tune in to my vlive when I get bored in the middle of the night and can’t just come over to bug you?” he teased. I blushed.

“I always do,” I reminded him. I stretched to kiss his cheek softly. “I’m gonna miss your face.” He pulled me up so that my face was even with his.

“I’m gonna miss your everything,” he said, and returned the kiss, on my lips. “Gonna have to figure out a way to sneak out, like when we were first dating. Or maybe we should sneak you in.”

I smiled against his mouth. “Mmm, every girl’s dream, being snuck in like a dirty secret to fuck in your shared room,” I joked.

Namjoon chuckled and kissed me again. “I’m sure Taehyung won’t mind, since he’s the one who got us in this mess.”

I smacked him playfully. “Don’t blame Tae!” I admonished him. “It’s my fault, too, I was the one who stole his belt. I shouldn’t have been teasing him like we do at the dorm.”

“You didn’t bring some outsider into our space,” he argued. “And Tae will be forgiven much faster than you will be.” His tone was light, but there was a bit of annoyance or even anger behind it.

“Don’t, Joon-ah.” I spoke softly, still curled up against him. “He’s your dongsaeng, don’t go there.” I leaned down and pressed a kiss to his neck. “Let’s not talk about that, it’s the last time we’ll be together for a while. I’m gonna miss this, being with you like this.” His head fell back, giving me room to trail kisses down toward his collarbone, exposed by the tank top he was wearing. I couldn’t help but lick along the ridge of bone, dipping my tongue into the hollow by his throat.

Namjoon groaned and pulled his arms from between us so he could lift me by the hips, turning me and settling me back down so that I was straddling his legs. I rolled my hips against him and celebrated the moan the move drew from him with a nibble on his earlobe. His large hands slid up over my waist and started pushing my shirt up, pulling it over my head. He threw it to the floor, his hands back on me as he claimed my mouth.

Our kisses grew heated, no longer about enjoying the last moments we had together and instead building toward something more. My hands were fisted in Namjoon’s hair, holding his head at the perfect angle for me to dominate our kiss. One of his hands had slid under the waistband of my pants, gripping the skin at my hip, and the other was fumbling with my bra strap when the door opened behind me.

I shrieked and looked frantically for my shirt, but Namjoon had thrown it to the other side of the narrow room. Instead I curled my body in toward my boyfriend, only showing my bare back to our unexpected visitor. Namjoon leaned to one side, keeping an arm around me so I didn’t fall off, and grabbed a zippered hoodie from the back of his chair, wrapping it around me.

“What the hell, Tae?” Namjoon bit out.

Taehyung stood by the door with his hand over his eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” he was apologizing. “I just came to tell you that security is ready to take noona back to her place.”

I sighed and dropped my forehead to Namjoon;s chest, and he squeezed me close for a moment. “Of course it had to be Taehyung, didn’t it?” he murmured, close enough so that only I could hear. I barked a laugh, earning a look from Taehyung that I didn’t acknowledge.

I stood up, zipping up Namjoon’s hoodie so that I could reach up my back to refasten my bra where he had managed to undo one hook. Joon stood up behind me, grabbing my arms and holding them, making me arch forward awkwardly. “Hey!,” I objected, but he just leaned down and kissed the spot where my neck meets my shoulder, sucking long enough that I knew I’d see a mark there in the morning. I let it happen, forgetting myself in the moment and relaxing back in to him.

Namjoon finally pulled back, and I could hear the smile in his voice as he declared, “There. Mine.” His oddly possessive comment made me turn to look at him, but instead of looking down at me, his head was turned toward Taehyung.

I pulled away from him and grabbed my abandoned shirt off the floor, balling it up and shoving it into one of the oversized pockets of the hoodie. “I’m keeping this, by the way,” I told Namjoon, grabbing my purse as well.

He whined, “But it’s my favourite! I’ll get cold.”

I returned to him and reached up to pat him on the head. “It smells like you, so I like it. You have plenty of other sweaters.”

He hugged me again, and gave me a fond little kiss on the forehead. “You’re lucky I love you,” he warned me.

I nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

***

That night we chatted on the phone. We didn’t usually need to talk again when we’d seen each other throughout the day, we weren’t that kind of couple. The events of the day, though, had left us both feeling a little more needy than normal.

“So, how was your day?” Namjoon asked, his usual conversation opener. I was sitting on my bed with my laptop open in front of me, going through my SNS accounts. I couldn’t resist posting one last picture to my twitter feed before making it private, knowing ARMYs would take a screenshot before it disappeared. It was a shot I’d taken a couple a weeks earlier, we were laying in bed after we’d woken up, and he was holding my hand up to his mouth to kiss it. His expressive eyes stared at me through the screen and I felt like I could still feel the love that had overwhelmed me at that moment. I’d captioned it simply, ‘Steadfast’, needing to make my loyalties known when the world was going to make a lot of assumptions about things they didn’t know. Namjoon and I were in it for the long haul, we would remain steady through this storm.

“What, before or after I was told I wasn’t allowed to see my boyfriend or some of my best friends for weeks?” I replied, though I immediately regretted how passive agressive my words sounded. “Any day I get to see you is better than one I don’t, though,” I added to help soften them.

“I know, the whole situation is fucked up,” he agreed. “But I have total faith in us, we can get through this.” We lapsed into silence, neither of us wanting to burden the other with complaints about a situation we were both stuck in.

“Oh,” I remembered something I wanted to ask. “What was with your little possessive act in the studio today, with Tae? I felt like you were marking your territory or something.”

“Ah,” he said, suddenly sounding shy. “I was just realizing that people might assume we’d broken up or something. Got a little over enthusiastic.”

He hadn’t really answered my question about Taehyung, but I let it go. “I’m not a possession, Joon-ah. Even if someone were to think I’m single, I am perfectly capable of telling them I’m not.”

Namjoon sighed. “I’m sorry, babe. This whole thing is messing with me.” I stayed silent for a beat, waiting for him to add something more. “And I won’t do it again.”

“Thank you,” I replied. “I’m not looking forward to wearing turtlenecks for the next week.” Again we fell silent, unsure that there was anything more to say.

“I love you.” Namjoon’s sudden declaration wasn’t rare, but it was exactly what I needed to hear.

“I love you, too.”

Silence fell between us. It was a comfortable one, though, borne of having shared everything we needed to and merely enjoying each other’s presence, even on the phone.

“We should probably get to bed, though,” I finally said.

“Uh huh,” he mumbled noncommittally, which meant that instead of going to bed, he was going to stay in his studio for a few more hours at least. Usually I would nag at him about getting enough sleep, but I figured he might need the cathartic release that music brought him.

5 days P.I.

“Joon-ah, what does 《bros be-pore hoes》mean?” I asked, knowing I was likely mispronouncing the English phrase. My English was pretty good when it came to academic subjects, but idioms still escaped me.

“What now?” Namjoon asked. We were on the phone again, our nightly ritual of the last several days, to compliment the steady conversation in texts we exchanged throughout the day. Last night he’d initiated a video call during our talk, apparently hearing my voice had made him really miss me in a certain way, and he wanted to show me the evidence. I’d never really been one for phone sex before, but it had at least taken the edge off. It was something I was going to have to get used to before their next extended world tour, at least.

I scrolled through the replies to the latest picture in the group’s feed, a candid shot of RM and V eating noodles. I had to separate them in my head, the men I knew and their stage personalities that they shared with the world, it was the only way to stop me from going off on the people in comments lusting after my man.

“There’s this hashtag people keep using, I know I’m mispronouncing it,” I clarified. “What does it mean?”

“ 《Bros be-pore-》-” he stopped midway, then said it again with what I could only assume was the correct English pronunciation. “Oh, 《bros before hoes》. It’s a rhyme in English. It’s about choosing your brother over-,” he coughed. “About choosing your brother over a woman.”

“Oh.” I couldn’t keep the disappointment out of my voice. “So they think you’ve forgiven Taehyung and chosen him over me.”

“Babe…” I could hear his bed shifting, he was moving around in his helpless frustration. “It was a long shot that they’d believe our statement, you know that. This is the best case scenario right now: they aren’t losing faith in Bangtan and fearing we’re going to break up. We just have to wait until this blows over, or some other scandal takes its place.”

I knew he was right, but it still hurt to hear him say that the best case scenario was having his fans call me an adulteress. I tried to keep quiet, but a hiccuping sob escaped me, making Namjoon curse.

“Babe, I don’t want you to be alone right now. I’m gonna find a disguise or something and come over,” he muttered.

“No, please, I’m fine,” I tried to convince him. “I’ll be okay.” My voice was as shaky as my insides felt.

“I’ll be there in like 20 minutes, tops,” was the last thing he said before hanging up.

6 days P.I.

I’d fallen asleep in Namjoon’s arms after crying my heart out the night before, and barely remembered him tucking me in to bed before sneaking back to the dorm. I’d awoken feeling better, more secure in our relationship and more confident than ever that we were going to be able to see this through to the other side.

Then I checked my phone. It turns out that my boyfriend was super smart, but be could also be a gigantic idiot.

“Joon, how could you?” I hissed into my phone. I was alone in my office at the university, no one to hear me, but I knew he was surrounded by people on his end and didn’t want them to head me screaming at him.

“I didn’t even think! I grabbed a hat and coat that weren’t mine that would fit!” he explained.

“Yeah, but you grabbed Taehyung’s coat, Namjoon. His Gucci coat! And you’re of a similar enough build that it’s easy enough to mistake you in the dark!” I wasn’t even sure when or where the photographers had caught him, only that the news sites were splashed with the image of a tall man with a very distinctive coat at my apartment complex in the middle of the night.

“You didn’t notice either,” Namjoon pointed out.

I ground my teeth. “I was emotionally distressed,” I bit out. “And now people think that Tae snuck over here to see me last night, and that you’re a fool to have forgiven him.

“I’ll fix it,” he promised, hanging up without even a ‘goodbye’. Or an ‘I love you’.

8 days P.I.

“Buying all the members copies of Tae’s coat wasn’t exactly how I imagined you’d fix things, Joon,” I said a couple of days later.

“Now they can’t say for certain who it was,” Namjoon said with pride in his voice.

“Yeah,” I signed. “Now I could be fucking any member of BTS.”

Namjoon scoffed at the idea. “Not any of them, I’m several centimeters taller than most of them.”

“You’re taller than Tae, and they still confused you,” I pointed out.

“I’m sorry.”

11 days P.I.

“Do you think Yoongi would start dating that girl for us?” I asked.

Namjoon mumbled, “Sorry, what?” He was distracted again. He was distracted a lot during our nightly phone calls these days. Working on the album, writing songs, and collaborating with both his members and other producers kept him busy.

“That idol singer he made a song for. If he started dating her, it would at least be something else for people to focus on,” I explained.

He sighed. “I don’t think he’d do it, but you can ask.”

16 days P.I.

It’s the first day we don’t talk.

I told myself we were both busy, I’d forgotten until it was too late to call. But so did he.

It hurt more than I wanted to admit.

20 days P.I.

The managers had decided it was safe enough for me to come visit Namjoon at the dorms. He hadn’t mentioned anything about it when we’d talked, but he texted me that morning to come over in the afternoon and to be cautious.

As the day went on, the data I was supposed to be analyzing was going blurry in front of my eyes. I couldn’t concentrate any longer.

I was leaving straight from the university to minimize the chances of someone seeing or following me, though the crowd camping outside my building had pretty much dispersed. After weeks of no nighttime visitors and my going nowhere except to the school and to run exceedingly boring errands, they’d mostly given up. Still, I had the taxi drop me off several blocks from the dorm, and donned a hat, sunglasses, and a mask before I got out.

Security was waiting for me at the private entrance and I slipped inside, letting out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. I made my way to the boy’s dorm and hesitated before I barged in like I used to. It felt weird being there, probably because things had begun to feel increasingly weird between Namjoon and I.

Seokjin looked surprised when he opened the door after I rang the bell, whether it was due to my bothering to ring or that he was surprised to see me at all, I wasn’t sure. Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook were all relaxing in the common area, Jimin on his phone while Tae watched Jungkook play Overwatch on his laptop, but they looked up in sync when I came padding around the corner. Jimin and Jungkook both jumped up to give me a hug, and Tae waved from the couch. I could see the hesitation on his face, and it broke my heart a little that he decided not to come hug me like he usually did, but I understood why.

“Thank goodness you’re here,” Jungkook said. “Rapmonnie has been an asshole!” I laughed.

“So, I’m here for your benefit, not Namjoon’s?” I joked.

“Yes!” Jimin insisted. The boys sat back down, and I leaned on the arm of the couch, not intending to stay and chat for long. “He’s been super grouchy. That’s why Yoongi-hyung asked if you could come visit.”

The happy feeling I’d felt building inside me, that Namjoon had wanted to see me, had asked the managers if there was any way I could come visit, suddenly left in a rush. “Oh,” I said simply. Unsure what to do now, since Namjoon obviously wasn’t eagerly awaiting my visit as I’d assumed, I slid off the arm and into the couch, pulling my purse into my lap. My coat was still on, since I’d planned on heading to the studio to hang out with Namjoon after dropping off my stuff but now...

“Aren’t you going to go see him?” Taehyung asked softly.

I shrugged. “He knows I’m here.” At least, he knew I was planning on coming to visit after our texts this morning. “He told me to come to the dorm. I’m sure he’ll come back when he wants a break.”

Taehyung shrugged and turned back to Jungkook’s screen. I settled in, shrugging off my warm jacket and laying my legs along the couch, not quite reaching Tae at the other end. I watched Jungkook play for a little while, but my mind wasn’t on the game. Part of me kind of wanted to leave, to see if Namjoon would even notice that I hadn’t come over, but I dismissed that as too petty. Not that I wasn’t already being petty by not going to the studio, but I knew he would come back to the dorm at some point.

I felt useless, just starting off into space, so I pulled out my phone and started re-reading through some of the data analysis for my thesis project. I had to switch apps back and forth in order to make some notes, which was getting annoying, so I asked Taehyung if I could borrow the tablet sitting beside him to email myself some points to include in my own analysis.

“What are you doing?” Jimin asked, looking up from his phone.

I scoffed. “Boring math stuff,” I replied, my eyes darting from one screen to the other as I typed a short sentence about a possible bias in the data.

Jungkook took an interest and exited the lobby he was in, getting up and crouching behind me so he could see my screen. “What’s with all the dots?” he asked.

I laughed mirthlessly. “I’ve graphed all the data points from my research. In an ideal world, they are all supposed to fall between here-” I pointed to a spot on the graph, “-and here, in an even spread.”

“But a bunch are all together there at the end,” he commented.

“Yep,” I confirmed. “Which means either my data is incomplete, or there is a bias that we haven’t accounted for.” I let my head fall back so I could look at Jungkook upside down. “Which means I need to find it or find more data to include in the analysis.”

“Aish,” he muttered, bracing his arm on the couch beside my head and leaning his chin on it. “It’s all just dots on the screen to me. You’re so smart, noona.”

Footsteps sounded behind us and we both twisted to see who had come in, since we hadn’t heard the door.

It was Namjoon. Of course the first time I see him in weeks, I’m sprawled out on the couch having an intimate looking conversation with his friend while another had grabbed my feet out of habit and was giving me a massage, a fact I hadn’t even noticed in my concentration.

“Hyung, look who came to visit!” Jungkook said, bouncing to his feet.

“Hey,” Namjoon greeted us all collectively. His hands were shoved in the pockets of his oversized knit cardigan, horn rimmed glasses framing his eyes, and a black ball cap pulled down over his blonde hair. After so many weeks not seeing him, he looked like a wet dream.

“I came back to see if anybody wanted to go grab some food with me,” he continued. Silence hung in the room. I tried to tell myself that he’d just forgotten that I couldn’t go out with them, but their silence proved that everyone else had managed to remember.

Seokjin cleared his throat and stepped up next to Namjoon. “How about the four of us go grab something and bring it back here,” he suggested. “Give you two a moment to yourselves?” I met Jin’s eyes, thanking him silently.

I’d never seen the lot of them scramble so quickly to get out the door.

I had stood up while they were all running around, sticking next to the couch, my hands in the back pockets of my jeans. Once the room cleared and we heard the front door close, I looked up at Namjoon and approached him slowly.

“Hey stranger,” I said, and went to wrap my arms around his waist, but he stepped back. I frowned in confusion. “Joon-ah, what’s wrong?”

He reached down and grabbed something from the floor next to my purse, the hoodie I’d stolen and brought back to return in his hand. “Is this it? Because if you’re here to break up with me, I don’t want to draw this out.”

“What?” My confusion only grew, now that he was speaking nonsense.

“You’re returning my shit, you didn’t come down to the studio or even tell me you were here, you’re- you’re fucking flirting with Jungkook!” he rambled, his voice getting heated. “Just do it, already!”

I couldn’t help the edge in my voice, an automatic response to the aggression in his. “I can’t believe you,” I growled. “I’m here, I snuck over here just to see you, because I thought you wanted me, that you needed to see me. I brought your favourite hoodie because it doesn’t smell much like you anymore because I’ve been wearing it for weeks and I wanted to trade you for another one. But I get here and find out that it wasn’t even you who wanted me here, it was fucking Yoongi who asked, because you’re being as asshole to all of them.” I crossed my arms over my chest, huffing at him. “And I’m not flirting with Kookie! He asked me what my thesis is about! And as far as I know, you are the only man in existence who finds my discussing statistical analysis sexy.”

I watched his face soften as I spoke. “Babe, I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I’ve just been so busy-”

“I’ve been busy too, Namjoon,” I pointed out, my righteous anger not yet slaked. Now it was my turn to step back and avoid his embrace. “And I didn’t pull away like you did. Don’t try and pretend this is just about today.” Frustrated tears fell down my face, and I was helpless to stop them; pretty much any strong emotion made me cry. “This doesn’t exactly bode well for the future of our relationship, does it? Because after you’re done this album, then it’s weeks of promotions, and then your world tour. And it’ll be even harder if I take the job in Busan!”

I hadn’t meant to tell him like this. The offer from a university near my hometown I’d received a couple days previous had been weighing on me and I’d been looking for a chance to tell him about it.

Namjoon froze, his face contorting again. “Busan? You’re moving back to Busan?”

I let my arms curl around my abdomen, feeling very small and sick to my stomach. “My thesis advisor sent part of my draft to a colleague at the university there, and he offered me a job,” I explained. “I haven’t decided anything, and it wouldn’t be until after graduation, but…”

Namjoon scoffed. “Well, good luck with that. You think Tae- or-or- Jungkook would be any better than I am at long distance?” His stutter when he got angry was something I’d never seen directed at me before. “Good luck with that,” he repeated.

“Why the fuck do you keep thinking that I’d leave you and start dating one of them?” my voice had finally risen enough to be called a shout. “They are my friends. How many times do you need to hear it? I’m not interested in dating any of the other members!”

“Because I know you’re attracted to them!” Namjoon shouted back. “You told me, back before we started dating, before I confessed, that you thought every one of us was attractive.”

“But I’m not in love with them, you idiot, I’m in love with you! You’re impossible sometimes, you know that?” I threw my hands up, grabbing my purse and sweater off the couch. “Talk about a double standard. You work with some of the most attractive women in the world, I have to sit there and watch you actively flirt with them on camera, and you smile and give them that look-” I gripped the strap of my bag and shook it in his face. “But I trust you to know the difference between casual attraction and wanting to pursue a relationship, and to come home to me.” A sob wracked my body, the tears coming all at once and my throat constricting painfully. “I trust you. But if you can’t trust me the same way, then there’s no point to this, I guess it’s over.”

I tried to move around him, heading for the door, but he stopped me by wrapping his arms around me. “Please, don’t go,” he begged softly. I felt his body shake with sobs to match mine, though he was better at keeping them quiet. “Don’t leave me like this, please. I can do better.”

“What more do you want from me, Namjoon?” I asked, not moving as tears fell down my face. I was afraid to move, to look at him, not knowing what I would see on his face.

He spun me around, sinking to his knees in front of me. “I see now how I’ve fucked up,” he admitted, his voice muffled by my shirt where he pressed his face into my soft abdomen. “I guess I just got too far into my own head, and I lashed out at you, and I just miss you so goddamn much it hurts.”

I let my things fall to the floor and wrapped my arms around his head. “I miss you, too. It’s been breaking my heart, feeling like you’re pulling away from me.” I felt him turn his face up toward me and looked down to meet his eyes. “This doesn’t work without that trust, Namjoon. I can’t keep doing this.”

“Please,” he choked out a sob, rubbing his face against me again. “Let me try again, I can make it up to you. I can do better, I swear. We can be better together, just don’t leave me.”

“Can we be better?” I asked, more to myself than to him. “We have no idea when things will get back to our normal, this could go on for months.” My heart was breaking even though I knew I had to say the words. “And even then, I’m still busy, you’re still busy, and you’re going to be travelling for extended periods. And who knows where I’ll end up working.” I swallowed, trying to keep my voice even. “Should we just- just cut our losses now?”

“No no no,” Namjoon chanted. “Don’t give up on us, on me. Please.” He stood up, and I let my arms fall back to my sides. I looked up into his face and saw the pain spilling out of his eyes.

I’d spent the last days wondering if he’d been distant because he didn’t love me anymore, that he’d stopped caring when I wasn’t constantly there to remind him. The tortured expression on his face made those worries seem ridiculous. His love for me, his enduring affection and care, was plain as day.

“I don’t want to,” I whispered. “I don’t want to give up, I mean.” I leaned into him and hugged him around the waist. “I love you too much to give up.”

He returned my embrace, one of his hands reaching up to cup my head, tangling in my hair. We stood there for several minutes, each lost in our own thoughts, but so grateful to simply be in each other’s arms.

I finally pulled back and sniffled, wiping the back of my hand across one cheek. Namjoon’s strong hands cupped my face, this thumbs wiping away the rest of the tears. Once that was done, he leaned down and gave me the sweetest kiss on my mouth, just a soft brush of his lips on mine.

We heard a door close down the hall and turned to see Yoongi walking in from his room. “Thank fuck,” he cursed, seeing us embracing. “I was afraid I’d be coming out to see you alone and crying after the shouting, but looks like you’ve made up. Are you going to stop biting my head off now?” Namjoon laughed softly at his hyung’s question.

“Thank you, Yooni-ssi,” I said, turning to him. “I hear you’re the reason I was allowed to visit.”

Yoongi shrugged. “He was unbearable, and you said you missed him,” he brushed off my thanks.

“You were talking to Yoongi-hyung?” Namjoon sounded surprised. Doubt crept into my mind, wondering if his newly revealed irrational jealousy was going to make for another fight.

“Yeah,” I admitted. “I texted him a few days ago to ask if he’d start a scandal to take the spotlight off of us. And he asked how I was doing.”

Namjoon laughed. “I didn’t think you were actually going to ask him!” he admitted.

I bit my lower lip, knowing I needed to be upfront. If Namjoon was going to take issue with me contacting my friends just because they were guys, I needed to know as soon as possible. “A few of the other members texted me, too, asking how I was handling things. I thought they were just being sweet, but now I think they might have been worrying over you.” I met his eyes, looking for any clue as to how he’d react. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I didn’t think it would be a big deal.”

Namjoon pulled me close again, placing a kiss on my temple. “It’s fine, you don’t have to tell me about your friends texting you.”

Wanting to make myself clear, I added, “You don’t have a problem with us being friends, do you?”

Namjoon looked me in the face again. “Of course not. What did you think, I was going to ask you to cut them off? Imagine Jimin if you just suddenly stopped being friends with him. It would break his little heart.” He smiled at me. “I’m sorry my stupid jealous freakout has you doubting your own friendships. I just- I guess I’m not all that good at long distance after being able to be with you for so long. That’s on me, though, something I have to work on for myself. Because I do trust you, implicitly. I swear I do.” I felt like that wasn’t the whole story, not the root of the problem anyway, but it was enough for me, for now.

My boyfriend leaned down to kiss me again, this time a little harder, more like he usually did when he was just saying hi. I let my lips fall open as his tongue swept inside to meet my own. He moaned a little into my mouth, pressing his body closer until we heard someone clearing their throat.

“Ah hmm,” Yoongi coughed very deliberately from where he sat on one of the couches, staring at his phone. “Are you done? Cause the guys want to know if its safe to come in with the food, and I’m hungry.”

***

I leaned back in my chair, resting my hands on my over-full belly and sinking into the comforting feeling of Namjoon’s arm around my shoulders. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t feel like a relief to be back here, hanging out with all of them again. Namjoon especially, of course, but I missed the camaraderie of the whole group as well.

“Do you want to come back to the studio with me?” Namjoon asked as he pushed his chair back from the takeout container covered table and stood. “I can play you what I’ve got so far.” I nodded and moved to stand up as well, knowing that ‘listening to what he’s got’ was code for some time alone, which we both needed and knew we weren’t likely to get if we stayed at the dorm.

“Hyung, can we hear too?” Jimin asked, rushing to stand with us. Taehyung and Jungkook both jumped up as well, though the maknae was still bent in half, shovelling another bite of noodles into his mouth. “You’ve been such a bear, we’ve kind of been afraid to ask.”

Namjoon leaned into me and groaned, but I could see the dimple in his cheek, so he was smiling at their antics. It warmed my heart, that he was willing to indulge them even though he knew they were using me as a buffer. “Fine,” he sighed for dramatic effect, his smile gone when he straightened to look at them. “It’s still pretty rough, though.”

Even rough, the little snippets he played for us held a lot of promise. The three boys were obviously as into it as I was, asking Namjoon to play some parts over and over and throwing out ideas of their own. He’d been working with other writers and producers, as usual, but I felt like I was starting to recognize the spin he put on each piece of music.

“And Taehyung already laid down vocals for this one,” Namjoon reached around me and clicked to open a new file on his computer, the smooth notes filtering through the speakers. He pulled his arms back around my waist, holding me tight on his lap, a position so easy and familiar it was hard to believe we’d been fighting at all.

Taehyung’s voice filled the room, the deep soulful tone sliding around the melody, and I smiled. “Oh my goodness, Tae!” I gushed. “Your voice is absolutely- It’s like, toe-curling!”

Namjoon chuckled behind me. “Don’t you usually call his voice panty melting?” he asked, loud enough for the others to hear over the music, much to my shame.

I blushed. “I didn’t think that phrase was entirely appropriate, given the circumstances,” I muttered, and they all laughed quickly before quieting down to listen to the rest of the song. Taehyung’s haunting voice was lamenting a love he could not have, purely due to circumstances out of their control. Tears sprung to my eyes, and I leaned back to ask Namjoon, “You wrote this one, didn’t you?”

He nodded, and added, “Taehyung helped with the melody and some of the lyrics. Not sure this one is going on the album, but maybe we’ll release it on soundcloud or something.”

I snuggled further into his lap, pulling his arm around me until he squeezed me so tight I could barely breathe. The combination of the sweet lyrics and Tae’s voice were only making that time alone with Namjoon more urgent. “Do you think I could spend the night?” I asked softly. “Ask Taehyung to pile in with one of the others, just for tonight?”

I felt Namjoon smile, since I couldn’t see him. “I dunno, baby, I think Taehyung might not mind watching,” he said, louder than I had been, deliberately making it so the boys could hear.

Jimin started laughing so hard, he curled into a ball and rolled sideways on the couch, bumping into Taehyung beside him. Tae’s face coloured and he looked pointedly at the floor as Jungkook giggled and slapped his knee.

I rolled my eyes. “Ugh, Joon-ah, don’t be such a pervert,” I admonished him. “Come on, isn’t it time you took me to bed?” I knew that would get a reaction, and it did, everyone laughing at my intentional hypocrisy.

“Aish, noona, I never thought you’d be so cold,” Jungkook said. When I shot him a confused look, he continued, “You get turned on by Taehyung, and then you kick him out of his own room to bang Namjoon-hyung.”

I laughed at his analysis. “Or, my lovely boyfriend wrote a song for me, which he got his friend to sing because he knows how much I love his friend’s voice,” I argued. “Really, it’s Joon-ah who is using Tae as foreplay.”

The guys laughed at that and Namjoon grumbled, telling everybody to get out, and we all made our way back to the dorm. No one said anything, but I saw Taehyung duck into Kookie’s room as everyone headed off to bed.

***

Despite how tiring our day had been, both physically and emotionally, neither Namjoon nor I wanted to fall asleep quite yet. We’d fucked as soon as the door to his room closed, all rough hands and hard mouths, then cuddled for a while and made love a second time. Namjoon had ducked out to get a washcloth to clean ourselves up with before we fell asleep, but he hadn’t waited long enough for the water to warm up, so I yelped when the cold cloth first made contact with my cum streaked thigh.

“Sorry, babe,” he said, moving quickly so as to minimize the amount of time I had to deal with it. I sucked in a breath when he swiped over my swollen labia, and he grinned. “A bit sensitive, hmm?”

“Just a bit,” I confirmed, and pushed his hand away when he moved to shock me again. He dropped the cloth to the floor, and I tried to see where it landed so I wouldn’t step on it in the morning, but he flopped on top of me before I could spot it. “You should really hang that up or something,” I pointed out.

“Mmm,” he hummed against my throat where he’d nestled his head. “Missed this.”

“What, squishing me to death?” I asked, slowly shoving him until he rolled onto the other side of me, but he pulled me with him so I was lying half on top of him. “You just missed sex,” I accused, trying to play it off like a joke, but I still worried that’s all he wanted me for.

Namjoon shook his head. “Nope, I’m sure it’s you,” he asserted. He kissed my neck softly, then pulled his head back, voice turning all serious. “Babe, can I tell you something? Promise not to get mad?”

My heart dropped, sure he was going to confess to something awful like cheating on me. We’d been apart for weeks, and I knew the sexual frustration would have been getting to him as much as it did to me, and he had no shortage of opportunities. I swallowed thickly, hoping my voice wouldn’t betray my inner turmoil. “Sure.”

“See…” he started, and my heart rate increased, terrified of what was to come. “For a long time, Taehyung and I have had this kind of friends-with-benefits arrangement-” My brain short circuited, not understanding what I was hearing. I was expecting something, something like an intern he made out with, but he’s suddenly confessing to some past relationship with Taehyung? His roommate and fellow band member, Taehyung, who everyone thought I was cheating on Namjoon with? I didn’t even know he was into guys, like at all. Namjoon was still talking though, so I tried to catch back up. “-So when he offered I kinda freaked out and he didn’t mean anything by it cause he thought it’d be cool, and I swear I didn’t fuck him.”

I turned on my side so I was facing him. “Okay, slow down. You and Tae have...a past?” He nodded. “A romantic one?” He twisted his mouth and brought his hand closer to our faces and tited it back in forth, meaning kind of. “Okay, not quite romantic, but sexual?” Another nod.

This time the feeling in the pit of my stomach wasn’t dread or fear, but something molten I felt to my core. Namjoon smirked when he saw the way my pupils reacted. I tried to push aside the flash of lust that had hit me at the thought of my boyfriend and his group member together in that way. “So, sorry, what happened with Tae?”

“Whenever we’re both between relationships and feeling horny we, you know, help each other out,” Namjoon explained unnecessarily.

I shook my head. “No no, I get that part. What happened the other day that Tae didn’t mean anything by cause he thought it was cool? I kinda lost the thread of what you were saying in the middle there,” I admitted, which made him smile even wider.

“Uh huh,” he leered at me as he said it. “So Taehyung saw that I was...shall we say I was struggling with being away from you for so long, and he thought I might need some relief of a sexual nature. And he offered by, uh, kinda waking me up with his mouth. Like, on my dick.”

I listened to him struggle to give me details, and the images his words brought to mind were some of the most erotic things I’d ever imagined. I glanced around at the bed we were lying on, imagining Joon splayed out across it like he usually was when he had the bed to himself, morning wood tenting the soft grey sweatpants he used as pyjamas. Taehyung, sliding out of the bed on the other side of the room and approaching Namjoon’s bed slowly, pulling down Joon’s pants to free his erection and sliding that wicked looking tongue of his from base to tip. I knew from experience that would be enough to wake Namjoon, but in my little fantasy Tae didn’t stop, crouched over my boyfriend and taking him deep into his throat a few times before Namjoon’s hand fell to the back of his head and Joon arched up into the younger man’s mouth…

“Well now, isn’t that interesting,” real life Namjoon said quietly. I snapped my head up to meet his eyes, falling into his all too perceptive gaze. “You like that, don’t you?” He slipped his firm thigh between my knees and pressed upwards. “Here I thought you’d be pissed, or need me to convince you that I didn’t take him up on his offer, which I didn’t, and that he knew now that it wasn’t something I’d be welcoming since you and I are together, which he does. Instead, I think you want me to tell you more.”

His thigh was high enough to press against my core, and I rocked against it. Namjoon hissed. “Baby, you’re soaking again. I can feel it on my leg. We just got cleaned up for bed, but you’re such a dirty girl, aren’t you?” he said into my ear, his voice low and gravelly, which wasn’t helping my level of arousal. I moaned and twisted my head to kiss him again just as a sliver of light fell across the opposite wall and the door creaked open. Namjoon grabbed a blanket and quickly pulled it over our entwined bodies.

Taehyung walked into the room slowly, glancing around in the dark to detect any possible movement, trying not to disturb us while he thought we were sleeping. After he stumbled over something on the floor, it was too dark to see what, Namjoon took pity on him. “It’s okay, Tae, we aren’t asleep yet.”

“Oh, sorry,” Tae whispered. “I can go back, I was just getting tired and it sounded like you guys had, uh, finished…”

“We were just falling asleep, Taehyung,” I reassured him. “Go to bed if you want.”

“Mmm, are you sure, babe?” Namjoon teased me. “We were just talking about what happened with Tae and I the other morning, and you were getting all hot and bothered.”

Taehyung coughed. “I’m sorry, what? You- you told her?” I wished there had been enough light to see the expression on his face, to see the shock that as so evident in his voice.

“Yeah, don’t worry, she’s kind of really into the idea,” Namjoon laughed until I struck his arm lightly. I didn’t want Tae to know I’d been fantasizing about him fucking my boyfriend and get all awkward with me.

“No, we are just going to go to sleep, you’re safe to stay,” I assured the younger man. Namjoon rocked forward, the thigh still between my own pressing against my centre, so I shoved him back. “And if you don’t stop that, my love, I’ll go find somewhere else to sleep, and you can sleep alone.”

25 days P.I.

“Come on, babe, please?” Namjoon begged. I sighed, knowing I shouldn’t give in but wishing I could.

Things between us had been better since I’d been to visit a few days earlier, back to the nightly phone call and endless string of texts. Now he was asking if he could come by my place for a quick visit, and being whiney about it.

“I have a deadline, Joon-ah,” I reminded him for what felt like the twelfth time in the five minutes we’d been on the phone. “I need to work through the edits from my advisor before I submit my final draft, and after that I need to start preparing for my defense.”

“I promised I won’t stay too long,” he argued. “I’ll even bring some of the guys with me so we have chaperones. We’ll bring dinner and we can all eat together. I know you probably haven’t been taking time to eat properly…” I looked at my messy kitchen, counters piled with bowls of half-eaten ramyeon eaten hastily in front of my computer, knowing he was right. Namjoon’s voice dropped as he added, “I don’t want to go so long without seeing you again. I don’t want us to end up doubting each other again.”

Of course he knew exactly how to pull at my heartstrings. “Fine,” I acquiesced, as he knew I would. “But only for a little bit.”

I really should have known better. Namjoon showed up with Taehyung (“the others were all busy”), dressed so stylishly in their ripped jeans and designer shirts that I wondered if they’d just come off a photo shoot, and filled my coffee table with the boxes of food they’d brought. Once we’d eaten, he’d insisted there’d be no harm in them staying to watch a movie while I continued to work. He just wanted to hold me, he claimed, so I settled in to his lap with my computer and ignored the movie on screen. I was so engrossed in my work that I didn’t even notice when the first movie ended and they started a second, but it was one of my favourites, so eventually I closed my work and settled back into Namjoon.

After a few moments of my leaning across him, Namjoon shifted so that he was sitting sideways on the couch, his legs on either side of me so he could pull me more firmly into his lap. I wiggled back against him and he let out a low groan, slipping his hand up under my shirt to splay across my stomach.

“Uh, Joon-ah, don’t be gross in front of Tae,” I chided him, but wiggled back again, wanting to punish him a little bit for staying longer than he’d promised.

Namjoon swatted at my thigh with his free hand. “Sit still, then!” he returned. “I wouldn’t have been gross if you weren’t being dirty.”

I gasped for dramatic effect and twisted to look him in the face. “How exactly am I being dirty? I’m just getting comfortable.”

Namjoon scoffed. “Yeah, you’re comfortably grinding on my dick.” The hand on my abdomen slid up high enough slip unter the wire of my bra and graze at the underside of my breast, causing me to wiggle yet again. “You’re killing me here, babe!”

I stopped, remembering we weren’t alone, and looked over at Taehyung to make sure he wasn’t about to run away in embarrassment. To my surprise, he met my gaze and smiled. “It’s okay,” he assured me. “Nothing I haven’t heard or seen before.” I blushed, but smiled my thanks and grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch, throwing it over Namjoon and I for a little more privacy if he decided to pull my shirt up again.

By the end of the second movie, Namjoon was snoring behind me and Tae could barely keep his eyes open. “Okay, guys, you’ve been here longer than you said you would, time to head home,” I said, loud enough to startle them both. Taehyung groaned, and Namjoon hugged me tighter, pulling me back into his lap.

“Babe, it’s too late,” he complained. “Can’t we just crash here?”

I muttered, “How did I not see this coming?” but still freed myself from Namjoon’s arms and went to the closet to grab an extra pillow and some blankets. “Here, Taehyung,” I said, dropping them on the couch. “The couch is comfy enough that I fall asleep on it all the time.” I helped Namjoon to stand and pulled him behind me to my bedroom.

We had settled down, ready to fall back asleep when we heard my couch scrape against the floor as if someone was moving it around. It finally stopped, but we listened to bare feet padding down the short hall to my closed door.

“Noona?” Taehyung asked through the door. He said something else, but it was muffled.

“What?” Namjoon asked. “Open the door, we can’t hear you.” Taehyung did as ordered, but stood in the doorway, not stepping into the room.

“Do you have an air mattress, or some more blankets or something? I’m too tall to fit on the couch,” he said.

I shook my head. “Sorry, I don’t really.” Tae nodded and reached for the door to close it again.

“Just-” Namjoon said with a sigh. “Come join us,” he offered. “We should have enough room.”

My eyes widened in shock, and I turned back to look at Joon’s face. Was he serious? I knew he was used to sharing a bed with Tae, but I certainly wasn’t. Did he really want to spend the night sandwiched between his past and current lovers? I may have found the idea of the two of them together that way...intriguing, but I wasn’t sure I was ready to lay next to them while they snuggled or something. I certainly wasn’t a fan of having the situation sprung on me like this.

I couldn’t exactly deny him after the offer had been made, though, so I scooted back toward the edge of the bed to make room for Taehyung on Namjoon’s other side. Joon grabbed me, though, and started pulling the both of us the other way. “You know I’d overheat if I was between the two of you,” he explained, and I felt the bed sink behind me as Tae climbed in. “You good?” Joon asked once we were all settled in.

“Yeah, sure,” I promised bravely. Tae and I had technically fallen asleep together before, but there was a big difference between falling asleep against each other on the couch at the dorm and sleeping in bed together on purpose.

“You know,” Namjoon began with a smirk. “If you get too hot, you can always take off your pyjamas. Neither of us will mind.”

“Hyung!” This time it was Taehyung scolding him. “This is awkward enough without you making it worse.”

I kicked my way out from underneath the blankets, sitting up to crawl out of the bed. “I’ll just go sleep on the couch, I’ve done it before,” I grumbled, trying not to let emotion creep into my voice. I’d nearly made it to the end of the bed before a strong arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me back. To my surprise, it was Taehyung who held me to him, not my boyfriend.

“Ignore hyung, he’s being an asshole,” Tae said, his mouth right next to my ear. I hoped he couldn’t feel the shiver that coursed through my body; I really wasn’t exaggerating the effect his voice had on me. “It’s just like passing out on the couch together, no big deal.” He had a point, our relationship had always been heavy on skinship and it had never bothered me before.

As if to further convince me, Taehyung started humming softly, some tuneless notes that turned into the melody of the song I’d heard at the studio, the one he and Namjoon had written for me. My body was still tingling from his voice, so I closed my eyes and slowed my breathing, hoping I’d drift off.

I must have looked convincing, because once the song was over, Tae started whispering at Namjoon. “What the fuck are you trying to pull, hyung?” His voice was harsh despite his attempts to keep quiet.

“Don’t act all innocent, I know you still like her,” Namjoon answered, his voice almost teasing and heavy with sleep. It seems Tae’s lullaby had worked on Joon as well. “Seen the way you watch her when she isn’t looking, use every excuse to touch her and hold her close. That picture, the scandal...I don’t know how she doesn’t see how bad you want her, it’s all over your face.”

“Hyung,” Tae whined. “So you just want to torture me? Force us closer to punish me for wanting her, or is this retaliation for interrupting you the other night?”

Namjoon chuckled. “No, nothing like that.”

“Then what, hyung?”

Namjoon was silent for a few moments, long enough that I was tempted to open my eyes to check if he’d fallen asleep mid conversation. Finally he spoke, but his words gave me no comfort. “Look at her, curled up with you in an instant, when I’m right in front of her. She was looking at you the same way, Taetae, in that picture. She wants you too, I’m pretty sure.”

I felt more than heard Tae’s sharply indrawn breath; he had pulled me right up against him and his arms tightened around me even further in his moment of shock. I had to will myself to remain relaxed, knowing that if I even stiffened they would realize I was awake, and I’d lose out on hearing the rest of this conversation they were having.

“I would never, hyung! Noona wouldn’t- She’s your girl, Joon-hyung,” Taehyung stumbled through the words, clearly at a loss for what to say to Namjoon’s revelation.

I wouldn’t have known what to say, either. My mind was racing, overwhelmed with new information and things to consider. Was he right? Did I really have a crush or something on Tae? He was probably my best friend, and I adored him to pieces, but I had been into Namjoon from the moment we met, head-over-heels in love for a couple of years now. Sure, Taehyung was attractive, but so were all the other members, and no one could fault me for enjoying the view. But I couldn’t deny that my relationship with Taehyung was different from the rest of the guys, we were closer and hung out together more, and were more cuddly, but I figured Tae was just like that with everybody. Unless that touchyness was a manifestation of some kind of feelings for me…

“She is, for now. Doesn’t have to stay that way,” Namjoon said softly, and my racing mind ground to a halt.

Next (Part 2)

#bts fic #namjoon x reader #taehyung x reader #namjoon x reader x taehyung #ipurpleunet #my fic #bts smut #namjoon scenario #taehyung scenario #idol au #bangtan smut #namjoon au #taehyung au #bangtan x reader #namjoon fic #taehyung fic #bts au #bts au fanfic #fic: this looks bad

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gracemyhearto · 5 years

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I was tagged by @missemperor to do this com-myu-nity ask :D

1. What is your hobby?

History! I was fascinated of past times very early. When I was a child, middleages and stuff pretty much scared me but through that fear grew a deep interest and out of this interest grew an even deeper passion and here I am now studying it :D On my 2nd tumblr @renaissance-prinzessin I spam post a lot of history content :D Oh and I write. xD

2. What is your special skill?

Special skill? Ehm maybe the way I understand animals? I am a very sensitive person. J

3. What are your strengths and weaknesses?

Like I said, I am very good at working and interacting with animals. I also think that I am pretty good in academic writing.

Weaknesses: as if I’d share that xP

4. What is your favorite color?

Green!

5. What is your favorite animal?

Omg that is hard? I love them all! But if I have to pick one.. horses! But ALL animals are precious babys!

6. Which food are you into lately?

My mum’s risotto and I had really GREAT herb Schupfnudeln when I was on holidays in Bavaria this month <3

7. What is the thing you never lose to from anyone?

My own goals.

8. What is your most treasured item?

I can’t really think of an item, of course I love my books and my merch but there is no item or thing that matters to me as much as for example my horse Poly or my dog Pauli do :D

9. What is your cooking specialty?

Recently I brought perfection to my beloved avocado-tomato soup xD I really do enjoy cooking (veggy of course!) and tried some vegan recipes recently too!

10. What is the thing you want the most at the moment?

Oh, I wished my bachelor’s thesis would be done already ahahaha.

11. What is the thing you are most scared of?

Nothing I’d share in the internet but I have to admit that, beside the fact that I love all animals, ostrichs somehow really scare me xDD

12. What is the thing you were happy about this year?

I think it’s getting back to my old university after switching to another last year. It feels home again but I am still glad that I was able to collect so many new experiences at the other uni.

13. What is the thing you were sad about this year?

The retirement of Mirio and Miyacchi! I mean on the other hand they are/will be free to be themselves now without hiding behind the Otokoyaku mask but it’s still sad because I really adored both of them

14. What is the thing you regretted this year?

Regret? Actually there is nothing that I really do regret atm

15. What is the thing you were angry about this year?

Unistuff, yep yep yep

16. What is the job that gave you a sense of fulfillment this year?

Does my studies count? xD

17. What has changed about you since you entered com-myu-nity?

Mostly that I don’t care anymore if other people dislike me or my opinion

18. Which character would you play in Sera myu?

Aw! I would want to be Venus! Venus! Venus! But I think as for playing I’d be predestined for a bitchy badass Neptune or Mars xD

19. If you were to form a collab now, who would it be with?

Do ya mean a song collab like the stuff we do like everyday in the com-my-nity? Actually I am doing a lot of stuff with @missemperor and it’s always a pleasure! But I also want to do something again with my first besties @sailorzakuro and @MyuToni sooooo I am open to do collabs with everyone xD

20. What do you love about Sera Myu nowadays?

That it made me be part of something and feel welcome among my friends <3

21. Which cast member catches your attention the most at the moment?

Hmm, at the moment it might be Kana Nakada because I really liked her performance in NogiMyu. But tbh I am more into the BaniMyu actors/actresses.

22. Which cast member would you want as your significant other?

EDO HIDEMASA <33333

23. If you were to marry a cast member, who would it be?

EDO HIDEMASA <333333333

24. If you would go to a deserted island, which cast member would you like to go with you?

Probably Yuuko Hosaka? She is such a mum, I’m sure she would get us back to civilisation easily xD

25. If you would be born again, which cast member would you want to be?

Ehm… Nao Inada? I could play Venus in two very good productions then xD

26. Which Sera Myu production would you want to be a part of?

The Dracul Arc!

27. If you would create your own kingdom, what kind of country would you want it to be?

Don’t expect a pinky, plushy kingdom with worldpeace and same rights for everyone :P. Probably something like Middle-earth. I think there can’t be light without darkness.

28. What is an interesting book or manga you read recently?

Thanks to @vampiruchan I am totally into the Black Dagger Brotherhood books atm xD

29. What is an interesting movie you watched recently?

I rewatched The Hobbit and I realized again how much I love Bilbo and how much of an Elve I am xD

30. What is your favorite Sera Myu song at the moment?

Always and forever FIRE! FIRE! FIRE! *starts dancing*

31. What is your favorite Sera Myu song choreography at the moment?

Probably Fumi’s LINK from 1999?

32. What is your favorite Sera Myu costume at the moment?

LOL totally Lamia’s breast pad I mean sexy cape outfit xD

33. What is your favorite Myu at the moment?

Always and forever.. Kessen or Last Dracul. Can’t decide, it really depends on my mood. As for this moment it’s LD

34. What is your favorite Myu cast?

I go with Last Dracul, I still love KSDK too and I really wished Yuuko was part of Myu in LD already

35. Is there something you say a lot recently?

At least I use „!s” way too often xD That’s a typical german thing I guess

36. What would you do if you could plan a Fan Kansha?

I wouldn’t change anything from the Bandai era. Just record it, PUT IT ON DVD and and add official subs xD

37. What do you hope to see Sera Myu doing in the future?

Not to relate too much on the manga…

38. What kind of person do you want to be in 5 years?

I want to be done with studying and gain ground in working life

39. What has been a memorable concert or event this year?

I saw the ballet “Swan Lake” by the russian nationalballet and omg it was awesome!

40. What do you want to do in your private life this year?

Private life? Does that even exist? lol

41. What kind of job would you like to do in the future?

I want to gain ground in historical research

42. Do you have a hairstyle you would like to try in the future?

Let’s see: Last year I dyed my hair tips blue (it stayed like 3 weeks) that was fun. And recently I managed to get my hair back into it’s original colour (medium blonde) and I am really happy with that. Wished it would still be a bit more even but hey xD

43. What Sera Myu merchandise would you love to have?

The Death Vulcan VHS as well everything available of Miyuki-Moon!

44. Where would you want Sera Myu to come to?

It would be nice if the other country’s themselves would organize Myus. Like, Germany was one of the countrys in which Sailor Moon was just so fkn popular that we even had an own Sailor Moon band, okay? xD So Myus based on the Bandai era here in Germany would be nice (even though I had no chance I’d so apply there xDDD)

45. If you could have a holiday with any cast member, what do you want to do?

Probably talk about their life at Sera My and ask them things especially about backstage things.

46. Please say something to your favourite cast member.

Well, Miyuki is in heaven but I’ll still dedicate this to her: You were wonderful. You didn’t made Sailor Moon just come to life, you put love in every single performance and transmitted all feelings to the audience with such a warm energy that it is always a pleasure and honour to watch your performances. I get never tired of watching them again and again. I hope you are happy where you are now but let me tell you that you can be really proud of what you did. You were not only an enrichment for the whole Sailor Moon franchise but also for my life and I just can not thank you enough for that.

#sera myu #sera myu ask #answered

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17degrees · 5 years

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Like an overstretched rubber band, my mental capacity for stress has finally been released, thankfully not overwhelmed beyond the point of repair. I haven’t been able to get much work done since poster presentation ended. To be honest, after the 1st poster, I was pretty much unwound.

I spent Saturday napping and reading an old novel, and watching a couple of shows. I did get cracking on my thesis, but it was mainly just setting the structure and putting some content where I know it. Nothing solid.

I know myself; I probably won’t get productive until the weekday, and definitely not without the company of my lovely pals WB and Rach. So I thought I should journal down my thoughts from the past week.

If I could sum up the past week, it would be like passing the row of pool filters. The black holes at the bottom of the pool, spaced midways between the perimeters of the pool. They are not so much a progress marker than a tool to ensure sterility of the pool water, but to me they have always been the former.

More than that, they were a huge obstacle for me; their rusty edges and complete blackness made my imagination spiral amok. Just getting close to it made me afraid of the oblivion that awaited me, should I get sucked into it. I would swim until I caught sight of the holes, tip toe and jump across them, before starting to swim again.

It sounds silly, but to this date, I hate pools and their visible filter systems.

That’s what fear is, isn’t it? It isn’t what it objectively is, but what you don’t know about it. The uncertainty, and the possibility of getting hurt gave me anxiety. I spent the past 2 semesters reliving the feeling of the pool filters. As the time passed, it got closer, and seeing it inch toward gave me anticipatory anxiety, and I knew I would eventually get to it. Yet I wasn’t there yet. Confronting it last week, the interview and presentations all in one fell swoop, was not easy. But being able to make it to week 10 felt like the main part of the battle.

I don’t think I could get better at crossing the filter holes in my life. But managing my emotions, especially anxiety, as I get towards them, was essential. I cannot fully describe the number and intensity of the occasions where I just wanted to get out of the pool and call it quits. Drop FYP. Graduate without honours. On darker nights, I wanted to kill myself, because I felt so scared of the backlash. I felt like I couldn’t handle the consequences either way.

Something I learnt from these crazy experiences is that I am deeply unstable. Sure, I know that my identity isn’t rooted in my grades or achievements. But I still was afraid of failure. It was an irrational fear, rooted in terrible past experiences that I still wasn’t quite able to shake. Even success couldn’t alleviate it; if anything, it exacerbated it. My life felt like walking on a tightrope, of balance and consequences.

I wondered many times why God would put me through this crap. Why did You allow me to feel this way? What went wrong with me, and why did You allow it? Why must I be broken?

It’s weird to say this, but I found that in my brokenness, God spoke deepest to me. Ironically, the past 2 days I’ve been rather independent since the ordeal; compared to the past 3-4 weeks when I sought His voice intently, begging, and He lifted me. The difference was not in God, but in my attitude.

God did not change based on my circumstances, but I did.

Today I wondered why God allows us to know Him at different time points in our lives, and at different intensities. Some people would receive Christ just at their deathbeds, like my grandma. Some would know Christ when they were young, or when they were in their later years. Some of us may be satisfied with a brief knowledge, having said the sinner’s prayer. Some keep searching for more. Some fall away.

I used to feel that God has an important purpose for me, that is why He is molding me through my crazy experiences. My heartbreaks, the shattering of my pride, the testing of my faith. I wanted it all to mean something; I didn’t want it to be wasted. If it costed me, it must be part of me. That was how I saw it.

But, as I survey my life, I realised I have been overly self-conscious.

About 5 weeks ago, I was struck by a sermon which asserted that my pain is nothing, because Jesus took on the ultimate pain. It felt refreshing to me that what I was going through is not a curse, because Jesus bore the curse for me.

Yet as that thought came to me, I wondered why it was refreshing to me. A Christian, whose faith was supposedly based on Jesus’s death on the cross and resurrection. Wasn’t this the gospel I knew all along?

I knew Jesus died, but I didn’t know what He died for. I didn’t know my sin. Sure, He died for me, but I wasn’t that aware of my sin. His death could have been for me, but I didn’t know how much I needed it. All the times I spent on my knees, begging God to hear me and give me peace. I prayed in Jesus’s name, yet not knowing I needed Him because of my sin.

My life is not just about self-betterment. It is about knowing Jesus. I thought Jesus came to shine a light on my sin, but it wasn’t for me to fixate on myself. He came so that I could lift my eyes from the filter holes, to Him. He was not only going to teach me to float on the waters, to rely on Him to get past them, but to enjoy the process by knowing Him.

I could just endure life. Sure there would be many obstacles, and I could deceive myself by thinking that I would be happy if I could just “get past this one”. I’ve been doing that all my life. Just getting by. Then Jesus would just be a coping mechanism, and I would be belittling His death and casting my salvation into serious question.

John 10:10. The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.

Look at Him, and know Him. I wanted to be known by God, and I’ve learnt that I am known by Him. Now can I look at Him and know Him? Or will my life be just about me? I haven’t found what I’m looking for, all the boxes I’ve tried to fit God in has left me unsatisfied. Yet the challenge to find all my satisfaction in You, You are up to. Afterall, You called me onto this journey.

#personal

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dellaliz19 · 6 years

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Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom review SPOILERS!!

So yeah, a little behind the curve but I finally saw Jurassic World 2, so let’s do some pros and cons;

1) The CGI is quite good in this one. The Dino’s look great, the lava is well rendered and the IndoRaptor looks terrifying in the absolute best way.

2) The story is a little weak, but let’s be frank; the story has NEVER been the strong point of any of these movies. The story exists to put our protagonists in danger and get some killed by dinos, and this does that in spades. It’s also a natural evolution of the first movie, and I’d give it points for trying to have a moral, even if I think it trips on that a couple times. It foreshadows it’s twists well, and has satisfying emotion. For a Jurassic movie, I’d call the story quite good.

3) The returining cast - Claire and Owen (and Jeff Goldblum I guess) - are all quiet good. They feel like natural evolutions of the story, and Pratt and Howard sell their chemistry again. The new characters - obligatory child, nerdy scared tech guy, assertive doctor lady, and obviously evil boss guy and henchman - are all pretty clearly stereotypes, but they work pretty well for the most part. Assertive vet lady was very engaging (I see you, “nasty woman” reference) and screamy tech guy worked well as comedic effect. Even obligatory child - Maisie, the only new character whose name I remember - really worked; she was smart, capable and felt real. I loved her twist and the potential that twist has for future stories (though I can’t say I trust Colin Trevorrow not to f*ck up all that potential by abandoning her character for some new freaking kid).

4) Cinematic tension. There is some great suspenseful film making at work here; the scene with the new Dino in Maisie’s room is downright CHILLING (though why this previously smart, capable child decided hiding under her sheets was the right idea is a little weak) but still; cinematic.

5) Raising the stakes. This movie gets that we needed to up the stakes, and although the Jurassic World name drop is a little on the nose, I’m intrigued to see where that story will lead in the next one (though Jurassic Park 3 showed us that you do need more than just”dinos in the real world” to sell a good movie, so again, potential that I’m a little worried they’ll f*ck up).

6) Some great deaths. The IndoRaptor and Toby Jones and evil henchman was iconic, Blue fighting the Raptor and the rammy head Dino were all great scenes with real weight, as well as the T Rex and evil guy; bloody but not too much, at least in my opinion.

And now, the cons:

1) Obviously evil bad guy and henchman were a little bit...on the nose? Like, this was a movie that tried (TRIED) to examine the ethical question of humans and their meddling and effect on the ecosystem, which is a nuanced topic to tackle...and they picked the bluntest of objects as a villain to do it. The audience is never going to relate with the villain, even when he’s making thesis statement of the movie - “we did this/you can’t put the genie back in the bottle” - because he’s such a moustache twirling villain that you just want him to get eaten already (which yes, satisfying death). Same with evil henchman guy: he’s the same character from the last movie with none of D'Onofrio’s charisma. He’s just there to get eaten.

2) Lockwood. What’s with all the retconning? I’m not crazy right; they just introduced a secret, never before referenced past partner for John Hammond? Like...why? Hammond had kids, and grandkids; if you HAD to keep on the Hammond legacy you could do that (and still keep the twist), without suddenly throwing in an estranged partner a la Ford and Arnold in Westworld (and hey, clones!) Lockwood seemed like lazy writing, and for a story that has kept its mythology pretty simple up to this point, it’s just unnecessarily weak.

3) T Rex ex Machina. Look, the “T Rex saves the day” is well honoured trope that no Jurassic movie would be complete without. But it’s also something that should be used sparingly; Jurassic World got this (the heels non withstanding) and kept it for the climax. Here, I think the T Rex saves them in the nick of time twice? And then eats the bad guy just when we’re hoping he will? Too much convenient T Rex makes her lose her power, is all I’m saying.

4) The message. Jurassic World 2 has a pretty clear thesis; Ian Malcolm lays it out (human hubris, we’re engineering our own destruction, ethical responsibility for what we’ve created) but the movie wavers on this enough that it shows cracks. Creating the dinos was human hubris, rescuing them is human hubris, and the movie never really finds that happy medium between those two points, verbally or cinematically. The ending especially is weak thematically; there’s all this angst about whether or not to release them, Claire can’t, and then obligatory child does, endangering humanity because “they’re alive like me” and this is good tension ... and then the movie is like “oh yeah, remember that the evil guys bought dinos and they’re everywhere now so you could have gassed them and we’d still be f*cked.” It rips the stakes of the finale right out, and is emblematic to me about how the movie never feels like it’s willing to commit to its moral (no matter how much Goldblum narration follows).

4) How is BD Wong still alive?!? There has to be another guy who can make dinos: eat that asshole already.

5) Why was the Mosasaurus coming out of the water not the post credits scene? Like, that was the tension they set up at the beginning, not the dinos over Vegas. It way better set up the “holy shit dinos now have to co exist with humans” vine they were going for, and it was AWESOME.

So, finale verdict; Jurassic World: Fallen Kingsom was a movie I ultimately quite enjoyed. The call backs and nostalgia were well utilized but not overwhelming (the IndoRaptor and the door was genius, clever girl), the characters were fun, the action was satisfying and the dinos were scary and magestic. It’s not a perfect movie by any stretch, and I worry that a lot of the potential it’s set up will be squandered or down right abandoned in the sequel, but as a movie in its own right, I’d definitely recommend it! 7/10 from me 😊

#jurassic world #jurassic park #dinosaur #ian malcolm #chris pratt #bryce dallas howard #owen grady #john hammond #jurassic world fallen kingdom #jurassic world 2 #t rex #tyranosaurus #raptor #blue #movie review

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carryforthtradition · 3 years

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Wrestles with Books by Masha Savitz

Excerpt from magical realism memoir, Fish Eyes For Pearls

I am born into the tribe of Israelites, the Children of Israel, people of the book.  Israel, Yisrael means ‘wrestles with God.’

What does it mean to be dyslexic as one from the people of the book?

I’m one who wrestles with books.

I’m a stranger in a foreign land and although I seem to speak the same language, I don’t understand.

This foreign place is school.

I am a character in my own imagined sequel to Camus’ book that I am assigned to read in high school, but never do.

Why would someone who claims to be an existentialist bother writing a book in the first place?

School is the first box.

People banter around the phrase, ‘Think outside the box.’ I didn’t know there was a box. I don’t know of this common system.

Some of us are born in the box, some are herded in soon after, while others need maps and instruction for finding it and operating within its proximity.

Some of us need this instruction drawn in colourful pictures depicting icons and landmarks associated with related emotional resonance. Some need mathematical equations, precise data with circumference for com- fort. Some prefer nautical, elemental references, including the movement of stars, time of year for bird migration and weather patterns.

Still others need it sung in a lullaby.

How does one enter The Box, and what might the consequences or rewards be for doing so? Can you get back out once you get in, are there emergency exits, public transportation, equal access for all?

Kindergarten is lovely, but all becomes alien thereafter.

I’m not indifferent, just different.

In third grade, I wonder how everyone else knows what to do, when I am so lost. We build a huge Noah’s ark. I make the lions. This, I get.

My father asks about my homework assignments. I don’t know. Why don’t I know there are homework assignments? He is frustrated, loses his temper with me. I feel bad that my smart papa has a dud for a daughter. I burrow deep into myself.

In high school, I sit down to study for a final exam, pulling out the year’s notes, all utterly incomprehensible gibberish, turns me cold and sick inside.

Like the moment we find out that Jack Nicholson, in The Shining, has spent all his time writing a book comprised of just one sentence, ‘All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy’, repeated a bazillion times.

That sick feeling.

Frightening- because this looks like the writing of a mad person. I burrow deeper. Never tell anyone.

But as an art major, I get into university. My personal essay and portfolio are strong. In painting class, I come to sense my intelligence.

I feel like NASA, discovering intelligent life, my own.

It has its own way of organizing, perceiving, analysing, it doesn’t live in my mind, no, somewhere deeper.

I will cherish and slowly learn to trust it, defend it, cultivate it, as it cultivates me- moving from the non- verbal languages to the written, expanding into my mind and heart, eyes and hands and into empty space.

At eight years old, I am fascinated with the back cover of a children’s scrapbook that my grandparents buy me. It is decorated with astrological symbols and signs. The written word, now, begins to interest me.

I read my first books in my twenties.

Astrology books allow me to match my own perceptions and knowing with the written words before me, creating a symbiotic relationship between my thoughts and words in reverse, a process which will eventually begin at the written word and lead to comprehension.

For the first time, the written word, this collection of letters and symbols, has a relationship with something I know. A pathway is forged in my mind for associating words with cognitive ideas and thoughts. Though decoding is still arduous, with effort I crack the codes.

My mind doesn’t build files. So, like a computer, if there is no file or system to save it to, bye-bye.

I don’t make this connection until after an entire summer of trying to organize my apartment, I find at the end it is no more organized than the day I started.

I walk around with a photo album or box of chargers and extension cords, trying to figure out where it goes, can’t decide, and pick up another object. Weeks of this make Jack a dull boy.

To support myself through college I get a job teaching at a religious after-school program at a synagogue outside of Boston. But I am ambivalent about being a teacher, since I had loathed school. I feel like a traitor.

There are children and there are grownups. Us and them.

I cannot conceive how it can be that grownups don’t remember how it was to be a child. Do they really forget? How does this happen?

When I am still a child, I wish as hard as I can to imprint this on my soul and mind, instructing my future self never to forget being a child.

This may be in part the reason it is easy for me to connect with children.

I never forgot. And I don’t forget. And some things about teaching become evident:

1. I have the opportunity to make school for others what it never was for me.

2. Whatever I hope to achieve as an artist happens more readily, efficaciously in a classroom.

I can create a small community of joy and expansion, honouring the individual, while working and sharing together as a collective.

I spot all the kids who are drifting away. I see their manoeuvres to keep me off their trail, so that I won’t suspect they do not understand the lesson.

I know where they are, I know how they feel. I know how to bring them back. We expect children to meet us where we are. That is impossible.

Like someone adrift on a raft in the ocean, it’s a search and rescue mission.

We must get into the cold water with a life jacket in hand, because they are scared. They would rather fail from not trying, than fail after trying, because that is too humiliating. They will do what they can to avoid any more bruising. Protecting their fragile ego.

Because I am them, I know how to find them and get them safely back to shore. I won’t let you drown I try to say to them in the silent language of my gaze. Ich und Du, I and thou.

In this space created between us, the atoms that will form pathways, bridges, avenues trails and rails. Seeds yielding life.

While working with children I will often sense the profound field that is created, and the words I and Thou, coined by Vienna born philosopher, Martin Buber.

My first awareness of Buber is in a Jewish Encyclopaedia, where in volume ‘B’, there is in an old photo of Buber from the early 60s. My young father’s face beams out from among all the parade celebrants at the side of the eighty-year-old philosopher!

Without having read his work, I sense that this is in part Buber’s thesis, his foundation. Success lies in the space between. The mutuality. Where, sharing that same space, rapport is experienced. Then, can come communication, where all is possible, a third entity of commonality. The new colour made between two primary colours. The fertile green ground of potentiality created between yellow and blue.

The students, like works of art, require similar skills from me. It will be a dance between my will and their potential- a process of discovery.

My cousin, a child psychologist, connects me with a job to shadow an eight-year-old boy in a private Cambridge elementary school.

W has moved out. This gig should be lucrative and maybe rewarding. I meet Jared, the boy, and his mother for a preliminary interview over coffee.

He is quite a frail little thing, sleepy heavy lids, freckled chipmunk cheeks. He smiles politely, wiggling in his chair with feet dangling a foot from the floor.

I am now part of the second-grade class. The children pet my burgundy velvet full bodysuit. Jared throws blocks across the class at some other children and then runs out of the building. The teacher wants Jared out altogether. His meagre demeanour becomes meaner and meaner as he morphs into a petite terror.

I am given my own little office in hopes that I will occupy him for the school day and keep everyone safe.

Initially, I am told that Jared gets frustrated because he has learning challenges. Squatting on the floor of my office, he sharpens a pencil, and with great fervour, stabs my booted foot repeatedly, a maniacal grin across his face.

‘How is Jared doing? Is he learning his math?’ Asks his quaffed and tailored mother, sitting in my office a few days later in all shades taupe. ‘Well, when we can get past his anger.’ I answer.

‘He’s not angry,’ she replies, placing her hands in her lap.

‘Actually,’ I respond, ‘he is REALLY angry. ‘She smiles and clearing her throat explains, ‘Oh no, he’s just acting angry.’

Jared, though abusive, seems to need me. I’m the only one he has here, the only one who acknowledges that he is angry. But after years of a marriage with anger hurled in my direction at light speed, on the subway platform fresh from work, I hold back tears.

I sceptically purchase a book on energy healing from a local bookstore.

I sit at my kitchen table and read. This all makes perfect sense to me. Traditional therapy only builds a road between the emotional to that of the mental. To contextualize feelings, very important, a start, but ultimately limited. I learn that there are aspects of the self that the self cannot access. This speaks to my floundering stuck state. It seems I should consult someone that has studied with the author. I successfully track down someone in the Boston area.

After reading the book I make an appointment with Perry, an energy healer, I explain my situation...Jared is so angry and W was so angry...and I can’t take anymore anger. They need me, but abuse the one closest.

‘That’s because you are angry.’ Perry explains. ‘I’m not angry.’ I shuffle uneasy in an easy chair. He smiles, ‘No, you’re angry.’

‘Jared is not separate from you,’ he explains, ‘but rather an extension of you, and you need to see him as such, and only then, will you both heal this.’

The next morning, I take Perry’s advice. Jared and I go to the gym, and at the count of three, I instruct, we will hurl ourselves into the mats that are hanging on the wall.

‘One two three.’ We leap into the thick foam rubber blue plastic. SMASH. A shock as our bodies hit the mats.

Release. Laughter. And again.

Jared’s moods improve, as do mine. As he lightens, his academics, handwriting, and focus improve along with a joy of learning. They have diagnosed him all wrong. It’s not his school performance that makes him upset, but rather his upset that makes it impossible for him to concentrate on school work.

We write, do math, and research his favourite subject - dogs. We read about Max, a beat poet puppy and Jared writes poetry. But his parents become very concerned the day he punches a pillow.

I had brought in a pillow for him to punch as a way to express and expel the excessive, unmet anger. And, because I am now no longer threatened by anger myself, there is no invisible cap or limit to what I can handle. He is free to fully rage, and I am comfortable letting him go as far as he needs.

His slight boy frame collapses to the ground in exhaustion. Then he crawls back up and swipes some more. And when he is done, he is done. It is done. There is peace.

The next morning, we compose a poem together about the pillow, which he has beaten and thrashed the day before.

The Nothing Pillow, by Jared N.

My pillow is the colour of a sunset, it is soft as cloud, sits nice and warm like sitting by a warm fire in the winter, I want to lay on my pillow, to look at it, and make sure its ok. I call it the nothing pillow because it doesn’t do anything, and when I lie on it, I think of nothing. The stuffing is like cotton candy, I want to eat it. When I hold my pillow,

I feel happy as can be, I feel happy like a warm bed. Good night.

His parents accuse me of riling him up.

By the end of a winter that had left Cambridge squinty bright when the sun reflected off the miles of chalky white snow, that fell that year, Jared has a new school.

A few weeks later Jared’s prominent lawyer father calls to apologize for accusations and to thank me for ‘keeping it together’ when everyone else was ‘going under.’ Jared’s Head of Child Psychology therapist lauds me for seeing what even he missed. He writes me a letter of recommendation for a Master’s in social work at an East Coast school, but West cost is beckoning.

At my new job, I am asked to tutor Eric, athletic, magnetic smile and sweet nature.

He slips through years of Hebrew classes without learning how to read. Now, I am hired to catch him up, prepare him to come in front of the community for his Bar Mitzvah, leading and chanting prayers and scripture in Hebrew.

I work with Eric and he makes great strides. When I move to LA, another teacher takes over for me. She calls me and wants to know the secret of my success.

‘How did you do it Masha? Did you find out his diagnosis?’

‘No,’ I explain, I have a distrust and disinterest in diagnoses. They are too often wrong.

‘Then how? You did really well with him. What did you do?’

‘I played football with him,’ I answer.

‘What? Football? What are you talking about?’ He is athletic, and I show up on the football field, looking inept where he is a star. I’m on his turf, willing to be incompetent, willing to look foolish. So, he is prepared to take a risk with me, in my classroom.

We are equals, willing to go beyond protected boundaries, defended borders, trusting that the other will gently guide us towards success with encouragement and aplomb.

I hadn’t really had a plan, just instincts. I hadn’t been trained, I was unorthodox, just showing up empty and trying to intuit with the children, something no one had done for me. My dyslexia creates empathy and understanding, but I have no direct or received method for guiding them through.

With Rabbinical aspirations and schooling, I sometimes tutor and officiate the Jewish coming of age ceremony for those thirteen years of age, a Bar and Bat Mitzvahs.

Many of the tweens I work with are outside of the synagogue school system for one reason or another - a parent not Jewish, kids with learning issues, or the child that surprises parents by wanting the ceremony when the family is not particularly religious.

Because many of the students have no Jewish background, my lessons encompass everything from reading and writing Hebrew, learning about holidays, customs and liturgy, while preparing for the ceremony that they will lead in English and Hebrew.

We often meet at coffee shops accompanied with warm sweet drinks and pastries.

Each child is a riddle with a pad lock keeping them from full success. I unscramble codes and unlock each child, one conversation, lesson, or exchange, at a time.

Ich und Du

Mitch and Devon are twin brothers. One is very sensitive, polite, deeply moral. The other is sweet natured and only interested in baseball. Neither one wants to be studying for a Bar Mitzvah. Both are only doing it for their parents.

Mitch is certain this is not for him, but reconciled. He finds religion superfluous since all humans, in his estimation, know innately how to behave and do the right thing.

Dyslexia teaches me that, because I don’t have answers like a glossary of terms I can retrieve on demand, I am empty, open with receptors up. I understand I need to approach each child on his and her own terms, comfortable with not knowing. And, through listening, with the desire and faith to prevail, there is only the Ich und Du. There, I will find the answers, in the space between us. All is revealed.

Writing the Bar Mitzvah speech offers great opportunity to crystalize and articulate beliefs and ideas. It is a way to forge the nascent adult identity, affirming the individual within the context of family and community.

The individual within society, a balance we have not been able to quite achieve. A society which prizes the self at the expense of the greater collective breeds sickness, but also, failing to value the individual weakens the strength of the collective. Middle path says Buddhism, middle path.

Mitch expands on the idea of empathy ‘You know the feelings of a stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.’

Devon recites, ‘I discovered that Judaism and baseball are similar in many ways. Baseball and Judaism both have rules which allow everyone to play together, a way to measure yourself, and a standard to strive for. Both try to push you to be your best, the rabbi is like a coach, they can guide you, try to help you improve, but it is really up to you.’

After the service, I overhear Mitch say to his younger cousin, ‘Are you going to have a Bat Mitzvah? You should, it’s a lot of work but it’s so worth it.’ He sees that I overhear him. I lower my eyes, smiling in my heart.

Everyone has given up on Alex having a Bar Mitzvah. He is now fourteen.

I am told his ‘condition’ prior to our first lesson. He is diagnosed with mild Asperger’s. He needs structure, I am instructed. Well, if that’s what he needs, that’s what we will do. So, although I am more fluid in my approach, I will adapt to him, I will meet him.

But, structure is not what he needs. During my introduction, I outline in detail a very regimented schedule, and at the end remark, ‘But, I like to be open to inspiration.’

He smiles saying, ‘Yeah, that works for me.’

I ask him to repeat this, making sure he heard and understood.

We never have a rigid schedule from that day onward. He thrives. What I learn about him is the opposite of what the specialists advise. His emotions are very strong, if not addressed at the onset he is moody and unfocused. He must identify his feelings, needs, options, solutions, choices. We have incredible success, and fun. He is philosophical, creative, sensitive and sincere. He craves to express himself, to be heard. As do we all.

Maddie is bright and sassy. Her father is a professor of neurology and she, with the mind of a scientist and the attitude of a Westside girl, thinks that God and Hebrew school is a waste of her time. For weeks I try to find a way to reach her, bring her into the conversation. I explain that her agnostic voice is relevant and welcome in our class, that she too is an equally valuable part of the class. This doesn’t seem to mean anything.

I am losing her. It is like struggling with a painting. I will not give up.

We are making a short film based on a line from Deuteronomy, ‘Love God with all your heart, all of your soul, all of your everything.’ I open a conversation with her saying, ‘This project might be challenging for you to work on since you don’t believe in God.’

‘Yup.’ Only half snarky.

‘Let’s see if we can figure this out, a way for this to work for you.’

We discuss theology, science, creation, belief. She is unsure. ‘So, it’s a mystery to you?’ I reframe. ‘Yeah.’

‘What if we replace the word God for ‘Mystery’, I suggest. Instead we will say, ‘I love The Mystery with all my heart all my soul and all my everything. Would that feel right for you? Would that work?’

Bingo! Game changer! Maddie, is able to find integrity and meaning in her studies from this point forward.

The Bat Mitzvah makes sense as she can place herself comfortably in the tradition. When it comes time for her Bat Mitzvah, she uses the term, ‘The Mystery’ in her speech to the community, she learns her material quickly and easily.

Establishing trust is paramount.

Carl Jung believes and trusts implicitly that his patients must and will arrive at the right decisions on their own.

Since this marks one’s journey towards adulthood, I point out that this is a good example of exercising adult wisdom.

There is a time I had abandoned Ich und Du, and the consequences are not good. When I seek advice from ‘the experts’, my life lessons overwhelmingly expose their deficits, imploring me to trust my own wisdom.

A teenage boy directs a comment to me during class, ‘I thought of you the other day- in my bed.’

I consult the school therapist. ‘You need to talk to him, tell him this makes you uncomfortable.’ She insists.

I ask to speak to him after class and it’s awkward. I’m uncomfortable. These are not my words, my real sentiments. He looks shamed, mortified. He thought he was being cute.

My discussion with him hadn’t come from an authentic place in me, or acknowledged our genuine connection.

Sometimes, I handle sexual inappropriateness with a bit more levity and mastery. Two boys in the back of the seventh-grade class attempt to shock me.

‘Masha, is penis a bad word?’

‘No, penis is my favourite word,’ I respond. Screams from the back row. They babble and yell, arms flailing in adolescent gainliness.

‘Are you serious? ‘No sillies, let’s get on with work.’

I never have a behaviour problem again with this class. Putty.

And then there are the teachers that are pivotal in my life.

Geraldine Jackson, five feet of feisty, with pixy short hair and reading glasses that slide down a slightly pug nose. Lean and sparky. Often scary. She is the math teacher. I am a computative disaster. She puts me in the lower group and ignores me. The next year, she teaches English.

There is no awareness of different learning styles at this time. I assume stupidity is the culprit. ‘She’s sweet, creative.’ Is the best a teacher can say of me.

I am even a creative speller!

Every week Mrs. Jackson gives us a creative writing assignment. One week, though mine is short, my story on re-gifting makes her laugh. She reads it to the class. I am now on her radar.

From this point forward, I rise and rise to the bar set before me, becoming one of the two highest graded students in the class for creative composition. Myself and my friend, Missy.

I am not much for competition, more the Aphrodite than the Athena or Artemis. I am thrilled for us both. She is driven, petit though complains she is fat, frets about failing tests when she will score a ninety-eight.

Chances are I will score a thirty out of a hundred and I am woefully chubby. Eleven years of age.

The thesaurus is now my trusty companion, my favourite game - the wonderment of words! I seek them out, hunting words like a scavenger, a canine on the trail, a pirate for loot ‘n booty. Then, savouring the delight of the hunt, I tack them to sentences like animal heads to plaque and wall.

My treasury of gemmed jewels to which I will devote myself first comes in the form of the sixth grade Friday creative compositions where, I pull all-nighters, writing and rewriting.

Here, it starts. Deep into the hushed amorphous night, I am most awake, discovering shapes in the shapeless, word-less, time space, planting and harvesting in the rich fertile darkness. I am free.

Construction of the bridge begins.

I am born into the tribe of Israelites, the Children of

Israel, people of the book. Israel, Yisrael means ‘wrestles with God.’

What does it mean to be dyslexic as one from the people of the book?

I’m one who wrestles with books.

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