#“I would forget my own name before I would ever forget you” bullshit. CHEESY

[dootznbootz]

Odypen definitely and equivalently adore each other BUT I weirdly can't see them as the type to actually say "I Love you".

They still definitely vocalize their love for each other but it's more so in "My Joy", and "Extraordinary Woman", "Strange Woman/Man", etc. And very cheesy lines (both say some cheesy shit in the Odyssey, and he definitely does in the Iliad as well. "Joy like a drowning sailor seeing land" bit???)

I could see "I adore you" but even then, that's probably during very specific moments but the actual "I love you"??? I just typed it just now for fic shit and... It weirdly just didn't feel right and I don't know why. 😅

Idk maybe it's kind of because I see them as over the top in ways, they love wordplay and riddles and I think they'd almost think "...That's not good enough >:( " about it??? I don't know???😂

[peeterparkr]

red; tom’s version|two.

chapter two: the lucky one. “You don’t feel pretty, you feel used”

pairing: Tom Holland x Reader story summary: you’re reminiscing through your relationship a month after the heartbreak and breakup. Wondering if it went wrong from the very start when Tom arrived at New York, and him being a cautionary tale or if the problems came along the way. Perhaps the key to find back your way to him is going back through the nice things before the heartbreak came. Or is it too painful to go all over again?

chapter summary: bottle caps, a red scarf and two coincidences that probably mean something warnings: angsty a bit, cussing, word count: 6.7k playlist (updated after each chapter, including Red songs+ other for the chapter): Spotify | Apple Music

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Present day. One month after the breakup.

Tom knew he had to stay quiet. Or rather, there was barely anything he could say while he was plotting his next words. He could barely believe he had a chance.

Walking down the streets with her quietly as he saw her, arranging her own thoughts. She had agreed to listen.

And he knew it was because whatever they’d felt, it made it worth it.

Y/N was angry. Not sad, angry. He had expected her to be crying. He didn’t want to be the reason why she would and he tried thinking he wasn’t. Though, deep inside, he was perfectly aware that he would be blamed for the tears that she’d shed in the last few months.

He wasn’t proud of that.

Guilt blinds. And Tom was blind in an attempt to shield. It was easier to shield on his own excuses that would serve barely as a plea to forgiveness.

Glares were directed at him. Her jaw was clenched and she had crossed her arms. The moment she’d realized what she’d agreed to, she’d turned stiff.

“Aren’t you cold?” Tom had tried asking.

“I don’t wish to speak to you.”

Fair.

And it was the middle of the night once again, how many times had they not walked under the stars with barely a destiny to reach. And now he was walking to his doom.

Y/N was mental.

In a good way. But the girl had taught him how insane you can be when it comes to relationships. In the best way possible, not as an insult.

Tom knew that he had fucked up. And he had been in New York for a while, though he hadn’t spoken to her directly, knowing that approaching her would only wound her.

It was colder now, Christmas was barely around the corner. In any other circumstance, it would’ve added to the romance.

Here it was just a bad omen of whatever would come next. The lights flickered as soon as they were walking past them.

“Are—are we not going to talk?” Tom questioned anyway. “I thought—“

Y/N shrugged. “I’m still deciding it, you see, I don’t know if I want to listen to you break my heart in an attempt of forged honesty.”

Tom dug his hands in his pockets. “I genuinely want to apologize.”

“And I genuinely don’t like you,” she snapped. “You see my problem?”

Tom sighed. “Fine,” he gulped. “But you are cold, that thing isn’t covering your neck or chest.”

Y/N had gone for a rather inadequate option for a cold winter day. Though Tom would agree that the black dress had been yet another punch to his stomach, all of course with an attempt to make him regret it, it was still rather unsuitable for the freezing city. But she looked stunning.

Her coat barely covered her, and her crossed arms were probably more of an attempt to warm herself and it served as a clear exposition of her anger.

She didn’t answer, however.

“You could wear this,” Tom offered, showing her the red scarf that once belonged to her. Tom liked to think that it now belonged to them.

The red scarf that had become a token to their relationship. From the very first day.

Y/N looked at it, and reluctantly took it. “It’s only because I’m cold.”

But Tom wanted to think it wasn’t only because of that. Wearing the scarf meant she was opening a door for him.

Seeing her again had been quite different from what Tom had expected, her hair was different and her makeup too. Her gaze seemed lost.

Whoever was standing beside him didn’t seem like her. She was a stranger, a very familiar one. But there wasn’t that visible spark that he’d fallen for. Not that he wouldn’t be able to love the figure in front of him but he feared he was the reason for its disappearance.

“It smells like you,” y/n whispered as she wrapped the scarf around her neck.

Tom smiled, briefly. “I’ve been wearing it. Your own smell wore out,” he regretted saying that. “That sounded way too creepy or cheesy.”

“Both, somehow,” she agreed. “Don’t ever say that kind of shit again.”

Tom gulped a chuckle, “noted.”

There was still that y/n in there, the one that liked the kind of cheesy things that he could say. The ones that came up at the right moment. Though, there was still that y/n that didn’t take any bullshit.

Tom hadn’t gone exactly through diamonds and sparkles after the breakup. And the city was now quite different from when it had first received him. Now covered with dark smoke and trash, with only skeletons of trees.

Guilt drowns. And Tom was, undoubtedly, drowning in a drought. Everything had dried off yet he felt like he could barely breathe.

Knowing you’re the reason for someone’s hurt is no fantasy.

And he was broken, too. Very, very broken. However, he knew he was seen as the bad guy here and he wouldn’t call himself less, and he wouldn’t admit he was aching too.

So he was trying to ignore it.

Her apartment building hadn’t changed. Not that Tom had expected it to, but it was nice to come to a familiar place. He noticed the stairs were still rusty and unclean and creaked as he walked in. New creaks had come in that he hadn’t memorized yet. He hoped he would have the chance to.

Y/N stopped at her door, with more questions than answers to give him.

“I really don’t know if I can do this,” she admitted to him. “But I know that if I don’t give you a chance to explain yourself I’ll never forgive myself.”

“That’s fair. But…I’ll do whatever you want me to, but please let me explain it to you,” he begged. “I—If you want me to leave New York and never come again I’ll understand.”

Y/N crossed her arms and leaned against the door, a red door that would open to memories he couldn’t quite forget.

“I already said I would listen,” she recalled. “But—“ her eyes met his, they looked tired. “I am having an inner monologue on why this is stupid.”

“Care to share?”

She took a heavy breath, “Well, you see, Tom, if that even is your real name…”

“Really? You’re—“Tom tried hard not to roll his eyes. “Yes, my name is Tom.”

“Tom….”

“Holland.”

“Hm, interesting. Holland, I remembered it being something else. You’re a liar, just making sure,” she said. “I’m—I just feel stupid. Because I shouldn’t be feeling this way for such a short relationship, is that even—was it? Can we even call it that?”

Her words felt bitter to Tom’s own tongue. He understood why she was defensive. “Yes.”

“Well, I don’t fucking know, maybe we confused whatever we were feeling with love, or—“

“I didn’t—“

“Could be easy, Tommy, you’re an actor, actors, as far as I know, act, and man did you play such an amazing role,” she snarled as she opened her door, leading the way. “Be quiet, by the way, I don’t want to wake up Lula or Jules.”

Tom walked in into what seemed a messed snapshot of how he remembered the place. It was the same, in essence. But sadder. The apartment still had a few sweaters here and there, and y/N’s notebooks all over it.

He could see Lula’s leftovers in their coffee table and some candy wraps that Julia had probably been eating while reading her book.

He turned to that one corner and saw it, the jukebox that had been what had defined y/n’s and his relationship. He dug his hand into his pocket to search for the locket y/n had given back. Tom squeezed it as he searched in his pocket for something else.

Guilt kills. And Tom was dying.

“Here,” Tom said as he reached out for three beer caps in his pocket, “I brought these to you,” he offered them to her, knowing there were jars full of them.

Y/N collected them. Or rather, it was her latest collection that she’d later use for her art. Or whatever she was into at the moment.

The apartment was small. It had two bedrooms which they all shared. They’d rotate whoever had the luck to have the single room. So small. And yet it felt so big.

Y/n pursed her lips but then took the beer caps and placed them on the counter.

“We’re going to the roof,” y/n said. “I’m just getting us some wine—No,” she shook her head, probably realizing that having wine would make the moment a tad more romantic or cuddly than she expected it to be. “Make yourself useful and make some tea, I’ll go change myself, I’m freezing.”

She’d brought blankets and a hoodie he hadn’t remembered he had left. They didn’t have to go to the roof, Julia was staying with Matt and Lula was not back yet from wherever she was.

She had stayed quiet, for a bit. Cuddled up in the same couch where they—

“Do you like your tea?” Questioned Tom.

She looked up. “Yeah, you can add that to your many talents. Right before lying.”

“I make better tea than lies? Good to know.”

Y/N shrugged. “How long have you been here?”

“A… few days,” Tom admitted. “I have been trying to walk up to your door but I keep getting lost in the subway, and when I did come here I panicked and cried.”

Y/N shrugged. “I thought I saw you, the other day,” she said.

“Oh?”

“It wasn’t you,” y/n confessed. “So I just yelled at a poor stranger. I—I genuinely feel sorry for him.”

Tom tried not to chuckle. “What did you yell?”

“I called him a bastard and asked what was wrong with him,” she scrunched her nose. “Not my proudest moment. I was kicked out of the bus.”

Tom gulped. “I’m sorry,” he took a deep breath. “You can yell at me if that helps.”

She shrugged. “No, I think I’m good, I let it all out with him,” she grimaced. “But I might just—“she picked up a pillow and threw it at him with barely any energy.

“Fair enough,” he nodded. “But I can be your punching bag, I deserve it,” he admired. “I see the jukebox,” Tom said, motioning to it.

She shrugged. “Yeah, would be stupid if you didn’t. It’s quite big. Barely any space left.”

Tom chuckled. “I meant—“

“No, no, I know what you mean. I’m trying to ignore it,” y/n admitted. “I notice it too, every day. Almost threw it away.”

Tom nodded. “Why didn’t you?”

“Well, it’s a very functional jukebox, the music on it,” she said. “It would be stupid to throw out something like that.”

Tom had expected a different answer, one rather more romantic. Like, that maybe throwing it out would’ve meant throwing him away.

“Right. I’m surprised the cops haven’t come for it.”

She smiled.

She… smiled?

She smiled.

Tom hadn’t thought he would see it again. So comforting. And genuine. Not forced.

“It’s not stolen,” she reminded him, “not really.”

Tom decided to smile back, but to himself. He couldn’t really look her in the eye.

“I guess I also kept it for the same reason why you kept that stupid scarf,” y/n added. Quieter now.

Tom took a deep breath. “It’s a fashionable accessory.”

Y/n rolled her eyes. “It’s been out of fashion for 10 years.”

“Trends come back.”

Y/N looked up. “Not when they're horrible, no,” she said with a heavy breath. “I don’t—“She shook her head. “No, we can’t do this.”

“Do what?” Tom questioned.

“Talk like you didn’t break my heart,” she snarked, gulping down her thoughts. “I always knew your heart never truly belonged to me, you know?” y/n said, holding to her mug. The tea was probably cold now. As so were they.

Tom was taken aback by that statement. “I—at the beginning—“

“No, it never truly did. Not completely.”

“I—“ but Tom didn’t have an answer to it.

The night was cold and New York was still awake. But it felt like it was them and only them even if they felt like oceans apart. He hated it. The first time he’d ever been truly lucky he had run out of luck.

Y/N watched him. “I always knew it was meant to be for a short time and I didn’t need anything more, I somehow knew that you’d hurt me,” she explained.

Tom had never meant to go this far. “I never meant—“

“Imagine if you had meant it though, how crushed would I have been. It wasn’t your intention, and yet I ended up crying on the floor,” she said, ironically

Tom couldn’t say more but an “I am so sorry.”

“I know you are,” she said. “I hope you are.”

Tom stared at her, “I am.”

Y/N directed him a single glance. “I don’t think you understand, Tom. This month has been the shittiest in my life.”

Tom didn’t have enough words to apologize. Or he had too many to say. Instead, he could word out anything.

“The worst part is that you also gave me the best fucking days of my life,” she continued. “So I’m at a crossroads here. Because there’s a part of me that thinks it was all bullshit and there’s also the part that knows it couldn’t be.”

Tom watched her. “It was not bullshit,” he said. “It was real.”

“That’s the worst part,” she pointed out. “I think, yeah, all of it being real then it makes it hurt even more because that means I lost the best thing to ever happen to me and you lost something so real.”

Tom nodded. “I lost the best thing to ever happen to me, too.”

Y/N was, without a doubt, the best thing he’d never looked for.

“Did you lose it because of me? Or did you lose me?” She quickly questioned, raising her brows.

Y/N was also a murderer.

“Well,” she took a deep breath, ignoring his sight as he was trying to know how to Answer. “You better start explaining yourself.”

“Before I—I… I… Right, well—Before I came here—I—Ella—“

She closed her eyes. “Actually, no.”

Tom paused, in fear.

“Here’s what we’re going to do, we will….” Y/N tried arranging her thoughts. “Tell me from the moment you hopped on the plane.”

Tom stayed quiet.

“I need to know how it looked from the moment you arrived, not… before, although I’m risking the fact you’re an unreliable narrator.”

“I am a terrible narrator,” he admitted.

Two months before the breakup. Tom’s version.

Tom remembered how little it had taken him to make the decision to escape. He had decided to escape from what everyone told him he should love.

With a backpack, his passport and a half ass made suitcase, he had hopped on the first flight to New York. No regrets as it had taken off. Sweet Escape airlines had been so kind to him.

Not telling anyone about it. To their eyes, he probably was only late to a party, and they’d see him in a few minutes with an excuse of an apology.

Yet, he was on a plane. Escaping from the perfect life.

They always said how lucky he was. Didn’t they? How incredible it was to have what he had. Because he had everything.

And he was running away from it. He watched the people on the plane, his seat was unflattering, next to an old lady who seemed to be rather impolite.

He remembered when he had made the decision to run out, the night before, a camera flash had blinded him and time had suddenly stopped. Just a few hours before hopping on the plane. Everyone expected him to do something he was not ready for. Everyone thought it would come.

Even Eleanor.

Especially Eleanor. Ella was probably counting only the minutes for his arrival. He had promised her he would be there.

No one could ever judge Tom for the decision he had made. Well, everyone would. But Tom liked to believe they couldn’t. As a technicality, that is. That they had absolutely no right to do it.

His parents wouldn’t be proud of it. Too bad.

Tom was nervous, though. The decision had been, undoubtedly, rushed. He hadn’t shown up to that early brunch.

Still wearing a suit, with a white buttoned shirt unbuttoned on his neck. He had still almost gone to that brunch in that FancyAss restaurante.

A brunch? He thought to himself. How incredibly out of character it seemed, he had become a caricature of whatever they wanted him to be.

Did he have to apologize to Eleanor? He didn’t want to.

He really didn’t want to.

He looked at his phone, Harry was calling him. A few other texts from his mother, too. Two missed calls from Ella. Probably wondering why he was late. He hoped they didn’t wait for him, for he would never arrive.

New York was a bit far from it.

The whole flight had been him trying to figure out if it was a good choice.

But he was given an ultimatum, and when those come you have to decide.

His decision was to go to New York. And it was the best choice.

It was, of course, but it was alright to doubt it. It was not likely of him to simply run away.

He didn’t have it all figured out. And that’s why he was clutching his backpack. He was chasing a dream that he didn’t even know he had.

Maybe that’s why he was running away. He didn’t know who he was. But of course he had heard it, how he looked like a million bucks. And he had said it to everyone else the night before, how the stars looked like diamonds in the skies.

He was making a name for himself, he knew that. Or rather, they were making a name for him. And he didn’t know who he was.

The flight was rather short, or maybe Tom barely had any time to think about it.

Running away from his own country, from his family, friends and from Ella, whom he barely had a title for right now.

The city was quick to receive him with bustling crowds, people pushing and rushing. But also opening up as he was walking in. Dancing around him.

How magical. He thought to himself as he tried texting Harrison, hoping his best friend wouldn’t mind receiving him at his place.

Tom managed to get a taxi that was waiting right outside the airport.

He hopped in and grinned to himself proudly. He was there.

With a new city ahead of him and no one expecting anything from him. With no one telling him what to do, with no one giving him an ultimatum and no one with orders for him.

“Where to?” Asked the taxi driver, as he stared from the mirror.

Tom, though he was not proud of it, was having a moment. “I’m running away from my life,” Tom explained. “don’t you ever get tired of the role you’re supposed to play? Like you were not meant to play it but now you’re too stuck in it.”

“Man, I'm sorry, I ain’t got no time for that kind of poeticbullshit, I need an address.”

The moment ended quickly. “Right. Sorry. I’m an idiot… uh, it’s this one.” Tom had to look up for Haz’s address.

“Every time,” the driver sighed, chuckling. “Why do y’all think New York is some sort of magical city that will give you the answer to whatever you’re going through.”

Tom’s smile widened sarcastically, “Well, isn’t it?”

“Guess it is, in a way, but I’ll tell you something,” the driver stated, “whatever you think New York will give to you, it'll be the very opposite. It won’t be what you want but it might just be what you need.”

“Oh really?” Tom chuckled, “who’s the one with the poetic crap now?”

“No, I’m messing with you, damn all you tourists believe that kind of thing huh? New York, concrete jungle where dreams are made of huh.”

“It’s what we’re sold,” Tom gave in.

“That sounds pretty, don’t it? To not get what you want but what you need.”

“It does.”

In a way, he was right. Tom would’ve thought he needed a break. To escape. That’s what he wanted right?

But what did he need?

The city welcomed him with a short rain, the water reflected the twinkling lights, as the shadows were reflecting the life he had left behind. The people rushed with their coats, as they were off to their lives. And it felt like he was finally breathing.

Although he would not share his thoughts with the driver again, Tom thought this was what he needed. A new start with no one that would judge him.

That’s probably why he’d chosen New York, the people are too busy living their own crazy lives to focus on someone so insignificant like him. He didn’t have to be whoever he was before, the pretty face, the cool guy everyone liked.

No, he was a guy in a stupid cab, and not to be worried if they said he hadn’t chosen a better ride, on a bigger car.

No, no announcement of whatever he was going to do on the papers because his dad had arranged it.

No, now he was but what he always wanted to be. One of those cautionary tales that they tell about people who go mad and escape and live.

He was a legend now.

Maybe they were right, he was lucky. He was lucky because he had finally made it out of there.

And he saw the lights, with Broadway shows waiting for him, with new adventures coming. With a new life that he wanted to create. The Broadway signs changed to Tom’s sight.

‘A very new life for the Lucky One.’ Starring Tom Holland.

A new beginning.

Maybe he was lucky. Though he never wanted to be in the spotlight. He constantly was, though.

Except, of course, for the fact that Haz hadn’t really answered his text the way he wanted to.

Haz probably didn’t believe Tom that he was in the city.

He would just knock at the door then.

“Well man, I hope whatever kind of role you want you get it,” the driver had said as Tom had hopped off.

Harrison’s building was far from fancy. Harrison had often described it as an ‘affordable pigsty’. Tom wouldn’t describe it as anything else.

But it was perfect. The perfect stage for his new charade.

Tom carried the now heavier backpack and suitcase up and was lucky enough that someone had entered the building so he could go up and show up uninvited to Haz’s apartment. If he could call it that.

He knocked, two times and Haz opened the door.

“Piss off, you’re not actually here!” Was the way Haz had decided to greet.

Tom laughed. “I fucking am.”

“You bastard,” Haz grinned before pulling his friend into a hug. “No way, I didn’t believe you. Man, I’m so glad to see you!”

“You too, man your place is…” Tom couldn’t finish.

“A pigsty but it’s home, I’ll make some place.”

And they had.

Haz had left a few years ago, with a dream in his head and a chance to make it. Or… a chance to get a chance to make it.

Leaving London had been quite such a simple decision for him. An inspiring actor that could’ve made it back at home but decided to leave for New York? It was stupid, honestly. Very anticlimactic of him.

But like Tom, Harrison had to escape before he was pulled in.

Just like Tom had been, tangled up. Tom’s ‘big break’ had yet to come but his family had managed to get him to the rising star he was.

He loved what he did, acting was definitely his true passion but not like this. Not buying his way into parts, not going out with someone so he could be considered. Hanging around with the right people just so they could get him a role.

Haz had gone for plays instead, and Tom knew he was fantastic. But he also had to get his big break. The industry had a funny way to say this.

“So, you just left?” Haz asked with a beer in his hand as he’d taken Tom to his favorite bar. Beers were cheaper there, and given that it was a Thursday, the happy hour lasted longer.

The bar was different from what Tom had expected. An old jukebox that was playing odd songs, colorful things. Very odd.

“I bloody just left,” Tom admitted. “What was I supposed to do?”

Harrison rubbed his face, “I dunno.”

“I couldn’t keep pretending,” Tom said, as he played with the bottle. “I—It wasn’t me.”

“But didn’t you just get cast in—something important?” He questioned.

Tom sighed, “Not for talent, no.”

He had seen a girl walk up to the jukebox and pay again to play “Twist and Shout” by The Beatles, she moved her head along to the song.

“Man, who bloody cares?” Haz rolled his eyes bringing the attention back to him. “You’re getting somewhere! You look pretty, you’re cool, and you’re getting somewhere.”

Tom knew where Haz was coming from. Things were going perfectly, one could argue. But it didn’t feel real. It was just a game of make believe where Tom had eventually been dug in.

“It wasn’t that,” Tom admitted. “Ella gave me an ultimatum.”

Harrison stopped, probably now understanding more why he had left. “And how do you feel about that?”

Tom stared at his beer. “Not how I’m supposed to.”

Harrison watched him. “One can only pretend for so long.”

“Yeah,” Tom sighed as he undressed the beer bottle.

“Does anyone know you escaped?” Haz asked.

Tom grimaced, pulling out his phone, turned off. “No, well, Harry knows, I told him I had left but didn’t tell him where to,” he said before unwillingly turning it back on, to show the billion notifications popping up. Multiple text messages, missed calls. “I need a new phone so I can keep this one turned off.”

“I think you should tell someone, otherwise they’re going to call the police or something,” Haz suggested.

Tom sighed, “Before I do let me go get another round,” he said as he headed to the bar.

Though Tom should’ve known right then and there that his life would change, he was very oblivious as he saw a couple. The beautiful girl sitting right beside… some guy. The very same girl who had played ‘Twist and Shout’.

She wasn’t smiling anymore, and Tom could only interpret her stare as something unpleasant. The guy and her were both stiff.

Tom couldn’t blame the guy because he was often criticized for also being like him. Not being able to make the beautiful girl beside him smile. Not understanding her worth and brilliance as anyone else in the room did.

She had dressed up, it seemed, just for her very date and he was just… there. The guy was simply an unuseful accessory adorning her side. His eyes were glued to the TV on the bar, a program that seemed to be very uneventful.

Tom often liked overhearing conversations, and this time wasn’t an exception.

“I recently discovered my new collection,” the girl said. Tom noticed the scarf on her neck,“I will start collecting bottle caps.”

The guy looked over, “Is it going to be for your new project that you’ll never finish?”

“I will finish it,” she said as she took off the scarf, now playing with it, tying and untying it. “And I’m going to ask Ben here to save me as many as he can.”

“Y/N,” the guy said. Pretty name, thought Tom. Fitting. “You never finish them.”

“Art is never finished, William,” the girl, y/n, defended again. “It’s only… abandoned.”

“My point,” The guy, William, rolled her eyes, “You never get through with them.”

“I do,” she defended herself. “You just never pay attention to it.”

Tom watched her frustration. Even then the guy wasn’t really into the conversation. He didn’t blame him, really. But he was more on y/n’s side.

“I think you should pay attention to more important stuff. Instead of wasting your time doing whatever.”

“Art isn't whatever,” she sighed, and then frowned, noticing Tom was watching them.

“I’m not saying it’s whatever, y/n, but you’ve got to have other dreams rather than collecting beer caps.”

Y/N looked away, “It’s for a painting.”

“A painting you’ll get bored of eventually, it’s always the same, y/n,” the guy was still too busy with his own beer watching the TV.

Y/N clenched her jaw but then directed her glance at Tom, still intrigued by the conversation.

Tom cleared his throat as he finally got his beers, the guy opened them for him but Tom asked for the beer caps.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help but listen,” Tom admitted before giving her the beer caps. “Good luck on your project.” The girl finally smiled as the guy accompanying her glared at him.

Tom shrugged and dedicated them both a smile before going back to Harrison. Had Tom been William he would’ve appreciated that someone made his girl smile, it was a waste not to share her smile with the world.

And Tom, out of everyone, understood what the girl had said, people bringing him down were always for him so to have genuine support from a stranger would help her. And him.

Yes never getting anything done but still having a passion for it was accomplishment enough.

“So what’s your plan?” Haz asked as soon as he was back. Tom watched the girl, still.

“I have none,” Tom admitted, watching as y/n and William were still arguing, probably now over the fact that Tom had left the beer caps. He didn’t feel guilty, even when both of them were pointing at him as the argument kept going. “I will just—Get a break for a few days. A well deserved vacation.”

Haz watched him. “Right.”

“You know, be a tourist,” Tom shrugged. “I—I dunno I just needed to get out,” Tom sipped from his bottle as his eyes were glued to the couple, now arguing loudly but not loud enough to be understood.

Haz followed his gaze. “What are you looking at?”

“Dunno, they’re odd,” Tom shrugged. But they weren’t really. He just saw his future, so uninterested to the girl beside him.

“Not really, you should get used to that,” Haz said. “But—You’re going to tell Harry, right!”

“Problem is,” Tom brought back the attention to Haz. “I don’t think Harry will be able to keep the secret.”

Harrison crossed his arms. “What are you really doing here Tom? You do realize that you’re hurting everyone—“

“Yeah, yeah fuck that, I know, I feel guilty. But—I can’t anymore. I couldn’t fucking stay there, not anymore,” Tom snapped. “It’s not Ella’s fault. Well not entirely but—“

“No, I know,” Haz rolled his eyes, “guess the perfect life can get boring.”

Harrison thought so too then. That Tom had the perfect life. How was it perfect? How was it really? Tom was not perfect. He was far from it, nothing about it was spectacular. He wasn’t living. Even though everyone around him thought he was having the time of his life Tom couldn’t help but feel miserable.

He wasn’t getting what he truly wanted. He didn’t enjoy the roles he was getting or the parties he was attending. He was far from what his dream was. And though his ‘breakout’ would come eventually and he’d have the chance to be who he wanted to be, it wasn’t coming any time soon and he doubted that he’d be able to be happy.

Or maybe he would be. He needed a break.

Tom caught up with Haz, his life, his misery and whatever the conversation led to, it’s fair to say that Tom’s head could barely pay any attention. His decision was sinking. He’d escaped his life.

He saw the girl from before leave, with the guy following her with frustration.

“They’re gonna break up,” Haz said watching them too.

Tom saw the girl had left the unfashionable red scarf behind.

He expected them to come back for them but they didn’t.

Eventually, Tom and Haz left. Tom picked up the scarf. He tried to say that it was a little reminder that he’d helped someone. He had actually been drawn to it. He couldn’t explain why. So he kept that idea.

Of course, he’d seen the red scarf and then regretted instantly taking it. Haz had judged him too.

“Why the fuck would you pick up a stranger’s scarf?”

“Because.”

The next day, with very little sleep and a bit of a headache from the jet lag and the beers, and after telling Haz he’d be productive, he decided he wouldn’t be and instead he wanted to visit a museum. Again, he was unsure as to why he wanted to go there. Lately he only followed his instinct.

But then again he had escaped so he could do whatever he wanted, and going to a museum seemed like something they’d never expect him to do. So that’s what he did.

But of course, he didn’t know much about art or anything so he decided he’d end up at the MET. Where else would he start?

He had planned getting on the subway but he decided he didn’t have time to memorize it and he didn’t want to look like an idiot so instead he took another cab. He didn’t tell the drivers this time any poetic bullshit.

When he got to the MET, he was immediately lost. Tom had this stupid habit of never knowing where the hell he was.

He didn’t mind this time. He would take the time to explore, to think to himself. To stare and read and to learn a little.

How ironic it seemed to be at the place where so many people were at. Basic, maybe but he was still enjoying it.

The big walls and endless exhibitions were making him feel small. And he hadn’t felt that way in a while. He liked that.

His path wasn’t being decided and he only followed his heart. He got to the musical instruments exhibitions.

A piano made him stop. It resonated with him. In some sorts, or it was interesting enough for him to make him stop.

“That’s the oldest surviving piano,” a voice mentioned from behind.

Tom blinked, realizing he had stared too long at it. “Oh?” He looked back at the voice and though Tom did not believe in coincidences he couldn’t help but think this was an oddly magical one.

The beer cap girl from the night before.

“Yeah, it dates back to 1538 and was created by—pardon my pronunciation—Bartolomeo Cristofori, the Italian man who is credited with inventing the piano,” she said, staring at it too. Her hair was slightly messed up. Wearing an overall that was covered with slight paint stains, a white cardigan over it.

“Oh, I would’ve never thought that,” Tom said. “It looks old.”

“Yeah,” she hadn’t looked at him, she was too entranced by it, her arms were crossed. “It's very old.”

Tom stared at her instead, how weird it was. He should’ve brought the scarf. No, that would’ve been weird, weirder than taking it.

“So you work here?” Tom questioned.

“No, I’m just incredibly good at lying,” she stated.

“Wha-what?”

“That fact I gave you, yeah that was a lie,” she grinned and finally turned to him. She tilted her head.

“Oh it sounded… very real,” Tom felt like an idiot.

“Yeah, I’ve worked on that for a while, lying to tourists, you’re my first one of the day,” she said. “So, a pleasure lying to someone with an accent.”

“It sounded very real,” Tom cleared his throat.

“I know, it’s a real fact, just slightly twisted,” she grinned. “I gave you the date wrong.”

Tom coughed. “Oh.”

“Yeah, and you straight up believed me,” she grinned. “The date is right there yet you listened to a random weirdo,” she grinned.

Tom blushed, “well, you sounded very—“

“No, don’t feel bad, it’s an art, lying to people,” she grinned.

He nodded in agreement.

She watched him curiously, “Do I know you?”

Tom faked to not recognize her. “I don’t think so.”

She narrowed her eyes, examining him head to toe. Then stopping at his face. “No, wait, were you at Bennie’s Beer Garden last night?”

She had recognized him.

“Uh—I was at a bar,” he decided to fake ignorance. “Oh—“he snapped his finger. “Wait are you—?”

“Beer cap girl, yeah,” she smiled. “Yeah, that was me, but I looked better last night.”

Tom smiled, “No, you look fine.”

“What a coincidence, thanks for the beer caps, by the way,” she chuckled. “How weird, and now you’re the first one I lie to.”

“It’s a pleasure, thank you,” Tom laughed.

“You must think I’m crazy, collecting beer caps and lying to strangers,” she blushed now, stepping back from him.

Tom did think that. In a good way. The girl seemed to be whatever he wanted to be: a fucking weirdo that don’t give two shits about anything in life.

“Surprisingly, no,” Tom shook his head. “I would lie to people instead if I was good at lying.”

Ironic, it seemed. Didn’t he make a living out of lying? Didn’t he technically lie his way through life?

“Yes, it's very tiring work, people say they don’t like being lied to,” she said. “I do, that’s why I love reading whatever is trending on twitter.”

Tom cackled, and turned his attention back to the piano.

“I’m y/n, by the way,” she mentioned casually.

“Tom,” he answered simply.

Y/N nodded. “So, Tom, what's your favorite lie supplier?”

“I watch movies,” he said, “or celebrity gossip.”

“A classic,” Y/N grinned. “Yeah, we all choose the lies we want to believe, I guess.”

“People like that, believing lies and feeling like they’re true,” Tom gave in. “Especially if they’re pretty. They help us escape reality.”

Y/N nodded slowly, and smirked. “We are getting deep now, huh?”

What the fuck did New York do to Tom that he randomly said poetic bullshit to strangers. He was embarrassed. “I—sorry.”

“No, no, I like that,” y/n was excited. “I guess you’re right. Lies are a way to cover something.”

“Yes, sometimes lying means protecting,” Tom bit his lip.

Y/N tilted her head. “Is it really?” She didn’t want to agree. “I would say lying is a way to actively hurt someone.”

“Well, were you trying to hurt me with your lie?” Tom challenged.

She licked her lips, defeated. “In a way,” she gave in. “I was trying to misinform you. So.”

“Well, what if the truth hurts more?” Tom questioned.

Y/N took a deep breath. “Then it’s a paradox.”

“Excuse me,” Someone interrupted them. “I’m sorry, y/n? I thought you weren’t coming today.”

Y/N smiled, “oh yeah, I wasn’t, I just forgot something in my locker and decided to walk around.”

The other guy turned to Tom. “Did she give you a fake fact?”

Tom chuckled, “she most certainly did.”

“Y/N, you can’t keep doing that,” the guy warned her. “You’re gonna get fired.”

Y/N grinned as she watched the guy go.

“I thought you didn’t work here,” Tom chuckled.

Y/N smiled mischievously, “I do, just another lie I said to you. You’re very lucky, two lies in one.”

Tom chuckled. “huh. Yeah, lucky me.”

“Yes, now if you’ll excuse me, little British man,” she grinned. “I’ll go lie to other people, nice lying to you.”

Tom grinned. “Yeah, yeah, nice… believing your lies.”

“Enjoy the Met,” she grinned. “Hope I get to see you again, thanks for the beer caps.”

“Thanks for the… lies,” he said, watching her leave. Maybe he was lucky.

fic masterlist previous chapter next chapter

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[storiesforallfandoms]

sister’s approval ~ machine gun kelly

word count: 1415

request?: yes!

“Machine gun Kelly x female reader. The reader is Kells younger sister who’s a singer and who’s really close to kells. When kells and Megan start dating people start saying how Megan is trying to push her out of kells life, trying to make kells forget about his sister even though Megan and kells sister immediately became best friends when kells introduced them. She finally has enough of people saying stuff about Megan and she posts on social media saying that she’s tired of people saying stuff that isn’t true and that her and Megan are best friends and she doesn’t hate Megan and that she’s really happy that her brother found someone as amazing as Megan. Please and thank you”

description: in which the tabloids are trying to paint her brother’s girlfriend as a bad person, so she decides to set the record straight

pairing: machine gun kelly x sister!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

She ran right past her brother and immediately tackled his girlfriend instead. Megan chuckled and hugged (Y/N) back as Colson watched with amusement.

“Good to see you too, sis,” he said.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re cool I guess,” (Y/N) said, waving Colson’s comment away. “We both know I’m here for Megan.”

“Weird, I thought you were here to record a song with me.”

“That’s like the side quest, the main mission is Megan.”

Colson rolled his eyes. (Y/N) made her way to his home studio, basically making herself at home in his house.

Despite both of them being in the music business for over 10 years, neither of the Baker siblings had ever done a song together. With the production of his next album, Colson insisted that (Y/N) made a feature on the album. She said yes on the condition that they both kept it an absolute secret until it was released to which Colson agreed.

(Y/N) threw herself down onto the couch in Colson’s home studio and pulled her songwriting notebook from her bag. “I have a few different verses written just because when I started writing I couldn’t stop. You choose one that sounds best with the rest of the song.”

“I’m sure all of them would work.

“Yeah but we can’t do a six verse song, that’s just too long. Pick one and I’ll use the others for a different song.”

Colson took the notebook and read through the verses. (Y/N) took her phone to look through social media while he read them. Megan was sat next to her, sending each other 8 Ball games back and forth between social media sessions.

After scrolling through Instagram for a while, (Y/N) switched to Twitter to find her own name trending. Confused, she clicked it to find an article at the top of the trend. The title read: “MGK blows off sister again! The rapper stands up (Y/N) for Megan Fox yet again”, accompanied by a picture of (Y/N) sat alone outside of a restaurant.

She didn’t have to read the rest of the article to know it was bullshit. The picture was of (Y/N) waiting on a friend outside the restaurant, not Colson, and the headline was so false that (Y/N)’s hands started to shake.

“(Y/N)? You good?”

Colson’s voice brought (Y/N) out of her enraged trance. She looked up to see him and Megan looking at her, expectantly.

“Yeah, I’m good,” she responded. However, another brief glance at her phone brought her anger back. “Actually, no, I’m not. I’ll be right back.”

She got up and walked out of the studio. She went to the living room, far enough away that she knew they wouldn’t be able to hear her as she filmed her video.

The press had been trying to pin (Y/B) and Megan against one another since she and Colson started dating. (Y/N) and Colson had always been close, but once Colson started dating Megan, the paparazzi started taking pictures of just the two of them or just (Y/N), totally ignoring the fact that (Y/N) was constantly posting pictures and tweets about Megan, and that all three of them spent time together often.

(Y/N) had had enough of the lies and the clickbait just to make Megan and Colson look like bad people. She was about to set the record straight, whether people wanted to hear it and believe it or not.

She switched her phone to Instagram again and went to her story. She held her phone up so that she was framed perfectly in the shot and held down on the button to begin recording.

“Hey everyone! I just wanted to address something really quick,” she started. She held the phone out so that the camera would pick up the background. “You see this behind me? This living room I’m in? This is Colson’s living room, because I am in Colson’s house. I am here spending time with him and with Megan, as I do almost every day. I am bringing this up because I just saw yet another article trying to make it out as if Colson has stopped spending time with me due to Megan. These articles are nothing but clickbait and lies to try and grab reader’s attention, especially the attention of my fans.

“Colson and I have not had any sort of falling out. There are no ill wishes from me towards Megan, and vice versa. In fact, Megan is my best friend. I like her more than I like Colson. And no, Colson has not stood me up or dumped me for Megan. Does he like to have his alone time with her? Of course! All couples do! But we still spend time together and we still talk to one another. There’s no bad blood between any of us. To the tabloids that have been spewing this bullshit for nearly a year now, I’d like for you all to kindly and politely shut the fuck up and move on. If I keep seeing this slander about my family, I will not hesitate to take legal action. To any of my fans who actually believe this and are sending hateful messages to Colson and Megan, I also beg you to stop. They are my family, and by hurting them you are hurting me. Whether you choose to believe this video or not is totally up to you, but this is the truth. All three of us, we’re a family. So fuck off of my family.”

(Y/N)’s hands were still shaking as she pressed “post”. She watched the videos load one by one before they were all posted to her story. The moment they went up, the views came flooding in, as did the positive messages. Many of her fans sent her private messages in response to the story, telling her they were sorry that she and Colson had to deal with that and assuring her that the real fans knew there was no ill intentions between the three of them.

Satisfied that she had finally gotten that off her chest, (Y/N) went to Colson’s kitchen and poured herself a glass of water before going back to the home studio. As she walked through the door, both Colson and Megan’s heads turned to look at her.

“Did you guys want water, too?” she asked, trying to lighten the mood.

“You could’ve told us you were going to film that video,” Colson said. “We could’ve addressed the rumors, too.”

(Y/N) sighed and took her spot on the couch again. “I know that, but I felt like it had to be me addressing it. I was the one being made out to be a victim. If you guys said anything before I did, everyone would just think you’re trying to cover your own asses. You can make statements if you want, but I felt like I had to be the first one to speak up about this.”

“She’s right,��� Megan agreed. “If we came out about it first it would just be fuel to the tabloid’s fire. Although, I don’t think we should have to make any sort of statement about it. The fact that anyone believes that shit makes no sense to me.”

“People like to demonize celebrities they don’t like,” (Y/N) responded. “Whether it’s true or not. Chances are that video will be taken out of context to fit their agenda, but whatever. I said my piece, I’m moving on.” She nodded to her notebook in Colson’s hand. “Did you choose a verse?”

Colson looked down at the notebook before passing it back to (Y/N). “They’re all really good, so I thought maybe, instead of one single, we do an entire album together.”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened. “Are you serious? Like you actually wanna do that?”

Colson nodded. “Yeah! I think it’ll be a fun surprise to both of our fanbases, and it’ll definitely make up for the last ten years where we haven’t worked together.”

(Y/N) was basically bouncing with excitement. “Oh my God, this album is gonna be so fucking awesome! We should give it a really cheesy name, like Baker’s Dozen.”

“No,” Colson said.

“Yes!” Megan retorted.

“Two against one, it’s being called Baker’s Dozen,” (Y/N) decided. She and Megan high fived while Colson buried his head in his hands and let out a groan.

[celestial-ringleader]

https://celestial-ringleader.tumblr.com/post/658246663116341248/mushroom-cookie-bears-send-me-a-character-and

Remy & Pietro??

@lucifers-favorite-child Buckle in y’all because this is gonna be a long one

Remy LeBeau:

favorite thing about them: So. Many. Things. I can’t decide on one so I’m just gonna list off my top three:

- His entire aesthetic is just so cool to me?? I love the idea of his character, just him being a thief (and an heir to an entire Guild on top of it) but I also like how he’s often seen as siren-like with how he can pull people in and smooth-talk his way out of almost anything. Also his eyes are so fucking cool idc what anyone else says. The black with red sclera is just so awesome.

- His powerset, omg people seriously underestimate what he’s capable of. Some think his power is just throwing explosive cards when it’s so much more than that. Like do you have any idea how useful it could be to manipulate energy?? He could literally make a moving object stop because he can just sap out the kinetic energy within it. On top of that he made a missile explode in Excalibur which I think was an interesting way of using his powers.  Also his goddamn reflexes are broken as all fuck, like he can sense a bullet coming even before anyone else notices it and dodge it perfectly. And if he’s quick enough he can hit it back at the person who shot at him. It’s fucking insane. And let’s not forget that in an alternate universe he was able to kill the Dark Phoenix and destroy his whole planet in a fit of his powers overloading. So.

- This is gonna be cheesy, but I love the way he talks. I like how no matter how much time has passed, he hasn’t changed how he speaks and is proud of it. Besides, his accent is just,,,so good.

least favorite thing about them: Aside from the moments where he’s characterized and portrayed poorly, I can’t think of anything.

favorite line: “I ain’t a thief, or an assassin. I’m an X-Man and I’m never comin’ back.” He said that to Belladonna in X-Men: The Animated Series and it stuck with me so much.

But also the line “You need ta get a life. Seriously.” is so good too. Just ANXF in general had a lot of good lines.

brOTP: Oh boy I have so many so I’m listing them off:

-Remy & Ororo Monroe

-Remy & Laura Kinney

-Remy & Anna-Marie (and before I get people asking, I personally don’t ship them romantically. Not saying no one else should, it’s just a personal preference.)

And some bonus crack brOTPs:

-Remy & Neena Thurman

-Remy & Felicia Hardy

OTP: There’s a lot here too,,,

-Remy/Pietro Maximoff (obviously)

-Remy/Fantomex

-Remy/Johnny Storm (this is more of a crack pairing, but I blame rping on discord for this)

-Remy/Kurt Wagner

-Remy/Warren Worthington III

nOTP: Honestly Remy is so shippable with a lot of people so I don’t really care all that much. Like,,sometimes I like people exploring him in toxic relationships (like with Sabertooth or Mister Sinister) so I really don’t care skjvbdkj

random headcanon: I like to headcanon that Remy has ADHD, which mostly shows itself through him having special interests, stimming, and having a bad case of RSD (Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria) because of past trauma associated with him being abandoned by those close to him. Also I like to imagine he uses playing cards to stim and his special interest is science fiction and space operas. Let him be a nerd.

Also he’s an Omega Level mutant. There I said it.

unpopular opinion: Okay, nobody get out the pitchforks and torches, but I don’t like this common headcanon that he’s a himbo and a narcissist. Usually a himbo is described as a character who is dumb while also being kind and beefy, but Remy just doesn’t tick all those boxes in my opinion. He’s incredibly clever and learns quickly, but he also doesn’t waste his time with knowledge that won’t help him. Like maybe he can’t do basic calculus but he understands how to get a lock to break based on it’s materials. Also because he was a physics teacher and I’d buy that he understands physics very well, especially since energy is such a big part of physics. So to me, he isn’t a himbo, he’s just a decent man. And as for the narcissism thing, he just doesn’t fit into the personality of someone with NPD. In fact, most of the time he talks down about himself and thinks himself less worthy....the exact opposite of a narcissist. Sometimes he’s just full of himself because he loves himself for once and that’s perfectly okay to me.  

song i associate with them: “Blood on my Name” by The Brother’s Bright, it has a southern gothic feel and it fits well into his backstory. Also “Poker Face” because why not. And also “Addict” by SilviaHound (yes it’s a Hazbin Hotel song but the vibes fit him so well)

favorite picture of them: I have,,,way too many I like. But these ones are just so good.

Also this one because it genuinely made me laugh

okay and now onto pietro

Pietro Maximoff:

favorite thing about them: There’s so much I love about Pietro so I’ll just list it off again ajkdbvkj

- His powers are actually really fucking cool. Like people think he can just run fast but forget that running fast is just one thing he can do. He can literally vibrate himself fast enough to go through walls, he has been shown to have some control over metal like Erik, he ran faster than the speed of sound (and possibly light), and he can leg press over 2,000 pounds. Also his superhero name is just so good, not even being ironic, the name Quicksilver is so badass.

- I love his relationship with Wanda, like sometimes it’s written really bad but other times it’s the cutest thing ever. Like he feels so protective over Wanda because of the environment they were raised in, but at the same time he learns when to let go of his own insecurities and let Wanda be her own person. Like,,their sibling dynamic is one of my favorites.

- His entire backstory is so tragic and I love it. He always feels like he isn’t good enough and tries to be as good as he can despite it all, but he’s also unabashedly pissed off about the circumstance he’s in. Like Pietro has every right to be bitter and I love seeing him call people out on their bullshit (especially in Quicksilver: No Surrender when he calls out people for marketing and appropriating Romani culture) 

least favorite thing about them: ...I literally can’t think of anything akjdbvkj

favorite line: Oops it’s all gamquick

Remy: Are you being difficult on purpose?

Pietro: What other reason is there to be difficult?

And also-

Pietro: Well, that’s a step up from a blow-up doll, isn’t it?

Remy: Did anyone ask you?

(Yes these are both from ANXF)

brOTP:

-Pietro & Wanda

-Pietro & Lorna Dane

-Pietro & Clint Barton (not MCU)

OTP: Okay I really only have two but I’m gonna gush about gamquick for a minute-

-Pietro/Remy LeBeau: I don’t even know where to begin with these two, I guess to start out with they both just look so good next to one another. They also bounce off one another banter-wise very well and while neither of them take bullshit from anyone, they still don’t mind messing with one another because it’s strictly playful. Also both their backstories are similar and lends itself to them finding solace in one another, they both recognize each other’s pain and will try their best to alleviate it as best as they can. They both understand what it feels like to be abandoned and abused and would never inflict that on each other, they both came from poverty and find it hard to fit into the “normal world”, but also Pietro usually never shows his softer side to anyone, but with Remy he’d make the exception because Remy wouldn’t hurt him like that. It’s also cute to explore them being able to settle down and get away from the superhero life for a while, but also them being a battle couple is A++

There’s just so much to say about them ajbdvkj

-Pietro/Namor Mckenzie: This became one of my favorite Pietro ships mostly because of @imperiuswrecked�� but also because apparently they were gonna be a couple in House of M?? Like that sounds so good to read about! Like Pietro is more carefree than Namor in some instances and it would be nice to see Namor relax a little bit more around Pietro. But also because I love imagining them being That royal couple and it’s so good.

nOTP: Pietro/Crystal. Just no. That ship is a garbage fire and it should’ve burned out ages ago.

random headcanon: Pietro has darker roots because his hair used to be the same color as Wanda’s before his powers manifested themselves. Also I like to headcanon/draw Pietro with darker skin.

unpopular opinion: Sometimes Pietro is seen as being misogynistic towards Wanda and I hate that interpretation of him. He’s protective over her, but he still allows her to make decisions on her own. Also people need to stop blaming Pietro for the events of House of M. For the love of god stop that shit.

song i associate with them: “Dollhouse” by Melanie Martinez

favorite picture of them: Need I say more? Pietro carrying his Cajun bf goes without saying

This was a lot of fun to write out and there’s so much more I can say but for now I’ll leave it here ajdbvkj

Ask Meme

[shotofire]

Crystal Clear

Satoru Gojo x F!Reader

Overview: You meet the bizarre Gojo in a library. He shows you his eyes, and explains his profession. It’s a lot to take in at once

Warnings: Cursing, implied smut

-

Having Satoru Gojo as a friend was, well, different. The guy would always wear a black mask and never tell you why. Also he was so, mysterious. It’s cheesy to say but really, he seems to have many secrets. It was hard to not flood him with a million questions but you knew he would manage to avoid every single one.

Sometimes you wouldn’t even classify what you two have as friendship. There was no texting, calling, or hanging out of any kind besides at a little library in Tokyo. Not many went there, there’d be ten people on a good day. So the first time a tall white haired boy, who really stood out, walked in you were in a trance. He’d talked to you that day which you didn’t expect, but then again who expected someone like him to even come there.

“I’m trying to find a book on how to deal with stress, do you know of such a thing?” He’d scared you when he’d first walked up. It was like the guy was a ninja and moved light on his feet because you didn’t hear his footsteps in the silent library at all. “Uh, yeah I do actually.” The situation was so weird considering you could feel him looking into your eyes, but his were hidden.

Then Gojo began to show up every Tuesday night. You couldn’t help but wonder what his profession was for him to just have this time every single Tuesday. Sometimes you’d show up later or earlier than usual, and somehow he’d always arrive a few minutes after you. The man was light on his feet so at one point you thought he was following you, like you had a stalker on your hands or something.

One time, as if reading your mind, he had said, “I just have a feeling when you’re going to show up. It’s my special talent.” Honestly you believed him, the guy sometimes finished your sentences. Maybe he was a fortune teller of some kind.

Basically, that’s how the relationship went. Gojo would show up when you did, ask for your help to find a new book, and chat for a bit. He was a funny guy and had sly things to say but never made you uncomfortable. What you found odd though was he never read the books you helped find, they’d just sit on the table where you two sat and he’d talk your head off.

The man would sit with his legs crossed and one elbow propped on the head of the chair. His free hand would usually run through his hair every so often or tap against the wooden table. Majority of the time he’d only want to talk about you, and would avoid anything having to do with himself. Over time feelings started to come into play, and you hated yourself for it. You hadn’t even seen the mans eyes and the most you know about him is his name, yet you like him.

Gojo has this thing about him that you can’t seem to pinpoint. As if there’s something about him that draws you in, but you couldn’t let this get any deeper. He was a brick wall that wasn’t going to break anytime soon. You didn’t like the whole gaining feelings thing, so you stopped going to the library. The fact you could just look at him and think of him in so many ways wasn’t a good thing. If the guy was interested in you, he’d actually tell you things about himself.

Staying away from him seemed like a good idea. There was no way of contact besides the library, so the process of forgetting and getting over him should be easy, right?

Wrong.

You’d managed to keep away from the library, even though you love it there, but nothing changed within you. He’d still creep into your mind on a late night as if he was the only thing you could think about. His voice rung through your head like a bell, and everything reminded you of him. Even your bed made you think of him due to his frequent sly remarks.

“Did you sleep well?” he’d asked on a rainy day, observing the dark circles under your eyes. “No, my bed is shit.” His laugh had sent a tingle to your legs, which hadn’t happened up until that point. “I bet I could help make it comfortable.” A blush had been fast to creep onto your cheeks, and his smirk had your head spinning. You assumed he messed with you because a romance novel was always in your hands, there was no way he actually had interest in you.

Right now you are sitting on your couch wrapped in a blanket. It’s dark outside, and it’s Tuesday. It has been a few weeks since you’ve gone to the library, and you miss Gojo. You had moved to Japan recently with your family when he’d first came into your life, so he was sort of a refresher. Then he became too much for your hopeless romantic mind. Tuesday’s always consisted of you battling with you emotions.

It’s your day off from work, and you have nothing to do, and no new books to read. The sweet librarian was probably wondering where you were as well, she always let you have books longer than the due date. She’s even let you keep a couple. At this point you’d have to nail your feet to the ground to stop yourself from leaving. You needed something new, and you needed to see him.

Before you knew it the library was in sight. It was a short walk from your home and didn’t take much energy. Plus you enjoyed seeing all the nature things along the way. The lighting from the windows were dim as always, and it seems empty as usual. Maybe Gojo has already gave up on coming from you absences, and it’ll conform it’s just not meant to be.

Once you open the glass door the familiar smell of cinnamon fills your senses. Oh how you missed this place, it was like your second home. You grab more books than you could carry, and start to have trouble seeing where you’re going.

Someone takes a few novels from the stack, and before you can protest you’re left with a loss of words. It’s Gojo himself, but he looks different. His mask is gone snd instead replaced with black circle glasses, and his beautiful white hair is down instead of up. Also, his prominent collarbones are out on display. You can’t help but stare at him.

“Hi stranger.” Holy shit you missed the way his voice sounds. “Hey.” The nerves within you are moving around like butterflies. He turns on his heals with your books in hand, heading straight for the unspoken reserved table. You follow suit, eyeing his broad shoulders from behind. “Where have you been?” He sets the books down on the table and sits down, forming his usual position.

Why are you so nervous right now? This is Gojo, you know him. Well, actually you don’t. That’s the whole reason you needed to take time for yourself and figure shit out. But it’s not like you’ve never talked to him before. You feel as if he’s a random hot guy asking you for your number.

“Uh, just been busy.” Gojo knows that’s complete bullshit. Even if you had a million things to do you’d make time to come to the library, even if just to grab one book. Your eye contact wavers with him as you speak, so it’s a even more dead five away that you’re lying. “Busy, huh? Or have you just been avoiding me?”

It’s the first time you feel this towards him, anger. Why does he know you so well? Why can he read you like a book yet you have nothing to say about him. He sees the way your jaw clenches at his words, and he’s unsure of why. He may be smart, but he’s just as clueless.

“You know everything about me Gojo,” your eyes are narrowing, “yet all I know of you is your name and a few minor details. You won’t even tell me what you do for a living, or if you even have a job. I feel like you’re hiding too much, and honestly is makes me uncomfortable. I don’t like being around someone who could possibly be a fucking murderer for all I know.” He’d never seen this side of you, or heard your voice sound so frustrated.

It’s silent for a few seconds, but it feels like minutes. You’re breathing heavily, completely vexed. What was the point of being your friend if he didn’t want you to know anything about him? “I’m sorry.” His words surprise you, and your stiff face loosens. His finger is tapping against the wood in a anxious manner. Did your little anger moment effect him that much? You don’t say anything, not even sure what to say.

“I, um,” the boy was never at a loss for words but he sure is struggling right now. His mind seems to be moving a million miles per hour, as if he’s trying to find the right thing to say. Instead of saying anything, he grabs the hinges of his glasses. His fingers rest for a moment as you watch with wide eyes. Then he does it, he slides them off of his face.

Gojo’s eyes are like blue crystals. You’d never seen eyes so beautiful and captivating. Why the hell would he want to cover up such a unique thing about him? “Woah,” is all you can muster up. He has a small smile on his face, but you can tell he’s unsure of his own actions. “You have gorgeous eyes.” You’re trying to make him feel more comfortable. “Thank you.”

You two stay like that for a moment, just gazing at one another. The swirls of white in his orbs become more noticeable as you observe them, and the dark shades of blue. They remind you of the ocean as well. “Why do you cover them? They’re so pretty.” He puts his elbows on the table before resting his head in his palms.

“My eyes are extremely sensitive due to-“ he stops himself, and you notice, “they’re just sensitive and I prefer to cover them.” He was still holding back. You press your lips together in a line, and this time you’re the one who can read him. “You’re lying and telling the truth at the same time.” How the hell do you know that? He bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself from saying the wrong thing.

“If I told you everything about me you would call bullshit.” “Try me,” what you says surprises him, ���how can you know that if you haven’t even tried?” You were right, but it was much deeper than you could ever antispate. There was a whole realm of things you didn’t know about, but again... he should still try. You are so willing to listen.

“I work at Tokyo Metropolitan Jujutsu Technical High School.” You’d never heard of it, not once. Yes you were new to the area but you still knew most of the schools, considering your siblings went to a high school nearby. He sees the puzzled look on your face, of course you had no idea what it is. “It’s a school for jujutsu sorcerers.” You definitely weren’t catching on. It sounded like make believe, but his face was so serious.

He isn’t lying.

“My job is to exorcise cursed spirits that are active and posing a threat to anyone or anything. I am a sorcerer myself, I contain cursed energy that can be used to fight these spirits,” Yep, what he was saying makes no sense, “I know this sounds insane to you but i’m telling the truth.”

Even though it did sound like some big story, and made no sense to you, you still knew he wasn’t lying. The concept of what he’s saying is making you freak out a bit on the inside, but you try not to show it. “I believe you.” He didn’t expect you to so easily, yet you do. “Well, thank you. I know it’s all hard to believe, and you can’t see curses so I don’t know how to physically prove it to you.”

A small smile forms on his lips and he bats his white eyelashes at you, making your stomach do a small flip. “But we could talk more about it over dinner Friday night, if you would like.” Holy shit, your face is already red. Why does it have to heat up so fast? “Yeah, I-I would like that,” of course you just had to stutter. He stands up from the table with a sly smile on his face, “Awe you’re blushing. Eager to go on a date with me, doll?”

Date? Doll? Gosh this boy was trying to make you pass out with his words. “Personally, you have me eager for a lot of things. But i’m going to earn it with my gentlemen-ness, and telling you everything you wanna know.” At this point he was just trying to make your head spin and legs tingle, he likes the way your eyes sparkle at the thought.

Gojo gives you a small piece of folded up paper, “See you Friday.” He sends you a wink before walking off with his hands in his pockets. His parents really made a hot ass son.

You open the paper and are met with numbers, his number. “Oh shit,” you whisper. He’s expecting you to call him? The nerves set in, this is all so much. The guys a sorcerer, has beautiful eyes, just gave you his number, and wants to go on a date.

You’ve struck gold.

[super-unpredictable98]

Twin Flames (Moonwalkers AU)

Chapter 1: Smells Like a Dream

Warning: Strong Language.

(Twin Flames Masterlist)

It was 1964 when Leon started working on this play, Lost Youth, it wasn't very good, but he had just moved in with his new roommate and had to pay half of the rent... Jonny seemed to be a pretty stand-up guy, he couldn't mess things up.

Not that he usually did anyway, Leon was a pretty quiet guy. He wasn't the best student in his class, but he wasn't bad either, he was pretty smart and witty (when given the chance), very hard-working, dedicated, and had a tendency to be responsible most of the time.

"Just until I get the chance to do a Hitchcock film," he always told himself right before going on stage to perform that disgrace of a play.

That script was cheesy, unfunny, boring, way too serious for how stupid it was, depressing, and just straight-up offensive at times. The whole story was centered around a trio of friends, one of them unexpectedly ends his own life in his mid-40s so there's a series of flashbacks showing the moments that lead to his decision.

Leon didn't expect anyone to actually watch it, and most of the time he was right. The theater was never packed, people would usually leave grimacing or grumbling, and he never once got a stage door compliment.

Luckily there was only one month left of that bullshit, this play would've been canceled way sooner if the protagonist wasn't the producer's son, who pulled every string possible to keep that shitshow on for half a year.

"Lost you say?" Leon gave his line for the millionth time, it never got any less ridiculous. "I'm not lost, I know who I am and where I'm going. You're the one who lost yourself trying to be an adult."

This was supposedly a very dramatic moment of the show, so he was taken by surprise when he heard a snort-laugh coming from the audience. He looked through the corner of his eye, trying to find where it came from, but at first glance, he couldn't. It was the most beautiful sound he ever had the pleasure to hear, or so he thought at the moment.

"I need to be an adult, Murray!" his castmate, Kyle, was completely overselling it. "School is over, we can't expect mommy and daddy to look after us anymore!"

"Well..." he really wanted to find the owner of that laughter, so he thought maybe a little improv would help. "What if I need my diaper changed once in a while? Who's gonna do it for me? You?"

Kyle widened his eyes in panic, not knowing how to react. Just as predicted, a burst of roaring laughter echoed from the audience. Most people were just chuckling softly, but not her... She was full-on cackling, tears running down her red cheeks as she tried to catch her breath.

That's when Leon saw her: a young girl, with beautiful cat-like eyes, wild curly hair, tanned skin, and the widest smile he had ever seen. She was trying to cover her grin apologetically, but everything he wanted was to get lost in it, knowing he caused it.

By the end of the show, which Leon butchered a few more times trying to be funny, he changed back into his clothes and ran out of the theater as fast as he could, hoping to catch her as she was leaving, but he couldn't find her anywhere.

"Are you alright, Leon?" Jonny asked as he arrived, seeing his roommate spread on the couch staring blankly at the ceiling.

"Yeah, just peachy."

"I know the play is stupid, but it's almost over, isn't it?"

"Uhum," Leon agreed.

"Something else bothering you?"

"I just saw the most beautiful girl that ever existed."

"And that's a bad thing?"

"I'll never see her again, I don't know her name, I keep imagining it but none of them seem to fit."

"What's in a name, right?"

"Right! That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet... And she does, no matter what I call her. I don't wanna forget her face."

"Don't you think that's a little dramatic for a girl you've seen once and didn't even talk to?"

"Might be, but if you had seen her, you'd understand."

"Who knows, man?" Jonny shrugged. "If it's really meant to be, you'll see each other again eventually."

——————————————————

The next day as he was getting in costume, after shaving like he did every day, Leon tried to focus. Yeah, he saw a girl for ten seconds and she made him feel like the funniest guy in London, but that was it, there was no meaningful connection there. And Jonny was right, if God or whatever entity controls the universe wants them to meet again, they will.

"Five minutes until Places," the stage manager shouted through the door.

"Thank you five," Leon replied.

No one had ever laughed during that play before, it was quite unnecessarily dramatic and sad, maybe that's why she didn't leave his brain. Yes, she was a fox, but that laughter was the one thing truly haunting his thoughts.

He took a deep breath and walked on stage, sitting on a bench placed stage-right. His first scene was in a school, he's supposed to flirt with a girl, the protagonist's love interest and Murray's childhood friend.

The curtains came up and, surprise surprise, the house was pretty much empty, there must've been around twenty people there maximum. Leon's eyes quickly glanced over every face in there until his gaze met hers and suddenly it was like the floor beneath him disappeared.

She smiled, noticing his stare. Why the fuck would she come back? The play was clearly rubbish, she knew that, what made her want to see it again? Truth be told, he hoped to see her again, but it was more like one of those hopeless hopes you have when you're a kid.

"What would you say about that, Murray?" his scene partner, Sandra, gave the cue.

"I'd say, darling... That you're the most beautiful girl in this room," Leon leaned over his opposite, but his eyes flickered to the girl sitting in the middle of the third row.

"Don't you ever get tired of being such a flirt?"

"How could I? When every time I see you it's like my body is on fire?" this line was lame as hell, but he hoped the message came across. "I'd love to get to know you better."

"Know me better?" Sandra looked back at him, puzzled. "We've been friends since we were 6."

"I know, sugar, I just... Maybe you should wait outside," he said pointedly. "Wait for me so we can talk."

"You're not making any sense, Murray," Sandra was starting to lose her cool, but Leon didn't care.

For the rest of the play, he did his absolute best. He was acting the house down, hoping to actually make this experience more bearable to the poor girl who decided to be tortured once again by that atrocity of a book.

Leon barely finished taking his bow during curtain call before sprinting back to the dressing room and changing. He fixed his hair in front of the mirror and ran out the stage door.

At first, all he saw was an empty street, which made his chest tighten with disappointment. That was until he felt a hand on his shoulder and the air was graced with the most wonderful perfume.

"Hello," her soft voice made him turn around.

"Oh, hey," he cleared his throat. "I was hoping you'd be here."

"Well, you almost ruined the scene to ask me, so that was the least I could do."

"There's not much that can be done to ruin this play even further," he joked. "I'm Leon, by the way."

"I know... The cast list."

"Of course," he felt like an idiot. "That gives you an unfair advantage, you know my name, but I don't know yours."

"Thalia," she smiled.

"That's a beautiful name, and you have a beautiful laughter as well, and the rest of you is also beautiful..."

"Thank you, you're a great actor. Without you, this play would be impossible to get through."

"You really think so?" he was not used to people complimenting his acting skills, he was more used to people asking him when he'd get a real job.

"Of course, you have this James Dean quality about you. It's natural and intriguing."

Leon let out a high-pitched giggle, he's been compared to many people in his life, usually not in a very flattering manner, but James Dean? That was a first... It's like Thalia saw something in him not even he was able to see.

"You're just too sweet," he shook his head with a smile.

"I really mean it. It's not only because you're both incredibly handsome either."

"Oh!" his cheeks turned the deepest shade of pink. "Since you went through all of this twice, can I at least buy you some ice cream?"

"That would be nice."

——————————————————

"So, then my dad told us he would be joining shylock business in England and brought us from Greece. Now I've been trying to adapt for the last five years," Thalia sat down on a park bench.

"That's bollocks, I was born here and I already have a hard time," Leon joined her.

"Is that because you chose to be an actor?"

"I didn't choose to be an actor... I had to be an actor."

"And what does that mean?" her eyes illuminated by the streetlights were like two beautiful torches, guiding him through the night.

"People always say it's hard to be an actor, but it's even harder not to be an actor when that's your calling, you know what I mean?"

"I suppose, I have a calling of my own, you know?"

"And what is it?" he gently placed his arm around her shoulders, checking for her reaction to see if she liked it.

"Don't laugh... But I really love to create perfumes."

"Create perfumes? How do you do that?"

"It's just mixing different fragrances and creating a new scent, then matching it with alcohol. People don't usually understand my relationship with smells. I think it can bring so many memories and sensations... I remember people by the way they smell more than the way they look."

"Well, it's different, but if that's what you like... then you should do it."

"I like to try and recreate my favorite ones, like old books or freshly cut grass."

"Did you make the perfume you're with now?" Leon took her wrist and brought it closer so he could get intoxicated with her scent once again.

"Yeah, it's a mix of orris, amber, and calone. I call it Oneiros, it's the name they give to the personification of dreams in Greek mythology."

"It sure feels like it" he muttered, inebriated.

"You..." Thalia leaned in and nuzzled his neck, making him jump slightly from the unexpected proximity. "Remind me of cashmeran and musk."

"I'm not wearing any cologne."

"I know," she pressed a kiss to his jaw. "It's just you."

"And do you like it by chance?" his breath hitched as her soft warm lips made contact with his skin.

"It's my favorite."

Before they knew it, their lips crashed in a deep, passionate kiss. He wasn't sure who started it, or if they both did at the same time, but he couldn't care less. It had been a while since Leon kissed a girl for real, he was worried he might be a little rusty, but with Thalia it was like a perfect match, everything felt right.

"Wait, you're 16 right?" he pulled back trying to catch his breath.

"I can be 16 if you like..." she raised her eyebrows.

"Jesus, are you under 16? Am I going to jail?"

"No, Leon," she laughed. "I'm 18."

"Oh, all right," he sighed, thirsty for another taste of her lips. "Where were we, darling?"

Tag List: @elliethesuperfruitlover @firstpersonnarrator @spanishmossmagnolia @a-ghoulish-tale @seanfalco

[iamtaekooked]

If We Knew || Kth

Synopsis: When your boss suggests her son is a good match for you, you had no idea just how right she is. 

(or alternatively the one where you know each other but don’t know that you know each other) 

Genre: romance, lots of fluffy moments and smut (I tried man)

Word count: 32k (longest piece I have ever written) 

A/N: Been a while people! I am excited to get back to writing.This got deleted somehow. But I am reposting this on the request one sweet anon. I hope you like it friend! I really like it and I hope you guys do too. Also shoutout to @mygsii​  for helping me with the smut and to @megahwn​ for being an awesome beta reader! ALSO I JUST FINISHED NURSING SCHOOL. HAD MY LAST DAY OF FINAL PRACTICUM AND I PASSED AND YOUR GIRL IS ONE MORE STEP CLOSER TO BEING AN RN!!!

“Why can’t you do it?” Nina asks as she sits down in front of you, snatching your phone from your hand so you can’t be distracted and avoid her (which is something you desperately want to do). You huff as you regard her silently, communicating to her that if she doesn’t give you your phone back, or better yet stop pestering about the stupid app you will kill her. 

If she was your best friend, it would be one thing. But Nina, unfortunately, is the cousin from hell who is the spawn of the devil. When your aunt told you she would stay with you over the summer you didn’t think she would actually end up staying the whole summer. Or that it would extend beyond the summer and into fall and then next year into winter, then spring until she came one full circle with summer a year later.

“It’s enough that my boss keeps trying to push her son on me. Now you’re doing it too. Let me fucking live” 

“I am not pushing your boss’s son on you. I don’t even know that guy. I am however telling you that you should sign up for this app because it is legit. It’s not your traditional dating app. You meet people and you can either become friends, network with people who have similar interests or go for dating. It’s your choice. Plus there are no conditions on this app. It’s confidential until you feel comfortable enough to reveal yourself. My best friend found the love of her life through it. I swear” she pinches the skin of her throat as a gesture of her oath. 

“I don’t want to date” you deadpan. 

“Only married people are supposed to say that. You” she points to you and shakes her head. “You are not married. You are young, and sexy, and hot and any guy would love to get into your pants” 

“Is that what you think I want?” you fold your elbows atop the table and lean towards her, thoroughly curious about her thought process. 

“I am not saying you want to be fucked y/n” her voice is a little too loud and her words a little too indecent to be uttered in a coffee shop. People within your vicinity turn their heads to look at the two of you. You sheepishly duck your head so as not to feel even more embarrassed than you already do. “All I am saying is, give it a try. You might find a decent guy” 

“Is there really such a thing as a ‘decent guy’ nowadays and that too on this money-grabbing, and bullshit app?” 

She observes you silently. “Tsk Tsk. Is this the moment where you go off about how stupid dating apps are and how they glorify the societal belief that superficial beauty is superior to personality and perpetuating the idea that women are good for fucking, and being used?”

“It’s true. Yet you are sitting here telling me to be a part of the herd. Millennials seriously are stupid” you shake your head. 

“Give me a legit reason other than this righteous bullshit” she folds her hands across her chest. 

“Oh my fucking god. That is my reason. I don’t want to because I hate it”

“Oh my fucking god” she mocks your tone. “That doesn’t count” 

“Nina, I swear to the heavens if I don’t have my phone back in thirty seconds I am going to kill you” 

She waves you off. “You’re too nice for that. Now stop changing the damn subject and tell me you will sign up” 

“Give me my phone back” you bite through your teeth, nostrils flaring.

“Fine” she extends the phone towards you and just as you are about to reach for it she pulls her hand back. “First tell me that you’ll make a profile for this app” 

You roll your eyes. “Yes, you insufferable being. I will make a profile. Now my phone please” 

She eyes you warily for a brief moment as if trying to seek out any signs of you lying. But then she thinks the better of it. “You better do it” she hands you the phone. 

You take it and pocket the device. “I will see you later at home” 

“You better fucking do it y/n” you hear her shrill voice as you exit the coffee shop and you are sure that definitely turned heads. 

When you were seven all you wanted was to be seventeen. When you were seventeen all you wanted was to be an actual adult and not a teenager because you were sick of being labelled rebellious and moody by adults all the time. Little did you know as a seven and seventeen-year-old that being an adult comes with responsibilities--like paying your own phone bill, paying rent for your house, paying hydro bills, taxes and everything else that the government could possibly take from you. 

The only way you can afford to stay afloat and manage to have some money left over to spend is because you work for a boss who is smitten with you. Because she likes you so much your salary package actually comes with a lot of bonus perks. It’s the only reason you still work for her. She’s a really nice lady but the one thing she lacks is self-restraint when it comes to her son and you. 

The first day you started working at the company, you remember how she called you in her office. You thought she would want to talk to you about something work-related but instead, she showed you pictures of her son and gushed about him for an hour. While all you could do was focus on the papers piling on your desk. 

Mrs. K as she likes to be called is surely a very wealthy woman and like a stereotypical wealthy woman, she loves to play matchmaker. She’s been trying to get you and her son together (whose name you always forget because you couldn’t care less)

As soon as you sit down on your desk your phone rings and her name flashes on the tiny screen of the line. With a sigh you pick it up. 

“Y/n dear, I see that you are back from your lunch” 

“Yes. Mrs.K” you smile into the phone. 

“Will you please come to my office for one moment dear?” 

There is a moment of hesitancy as you fall silent. You have an inkling as to what this could be about and you really don’t want to go. But given that she is the woman who pays you and handsomely too, you don’t have much of a choice. 

“I will be there Mrs.K” you try your best to sound as excited by it as possible.

Sometimes you wonder if having been in the business of producing cheesy TV shows for decades has had an impact on the old woman. Or maybe she really is a stereotypical wealthy woman who now that she has made something of herself, doesn’t have any other occupation than seeing her son start his own family. 

Your thoughts provide for a good distraction as you reach her office. You stand tentatively outside the door, wondering if you should knock. But before you have the chance to further dwell on it the door opens to reveal Mrs K. herself. 

“Come on in dear!” she ushers you inside quickly 

“How are you?” you question as she guides you to the very comfortable looking couches on one side of the room. “Are these new?” you point to the posh sofas. 

“Yes, my son bought them for me. I suppose as a present or maybe a bribe. He’s been buying me a lot of things lately” she laughs obnoxiously. 

“A bribe?” You frown in confusion at her remark. 

“Let’s just say that he is not a fan of my imposition on him to settle down. He thinks buying me things would somehow earn him some sliver of freedom from it. But all I want is what is best for him” she sits down opposite you and gestures for you to take a seat as well. 

You respond with an awkward laugh because you don’t know how else to reply. You can understand why he would want to get out of it. “So is he going to earn his sliver of freedom..?” you trail with a tone of anticipation. 

She laughs in a deflective way as she waves you off. “I called you here because I want to ask your honest opinion of my son” 

“With all due respect Mrs. K I don’t know your son so-”

“So get to know him then” she says airily. “He’s coming to visit in a few days. I would love it if you two met. I am not saying this because he’s my son but he’s a catch” she winks which makes you laugh. 

“I-” you begin and stop upon noticing how hopeful and excited she looks. “Sure” 

“Great!” she claps excitedly

The things you have to do to make sure you don’t piss your boss off. 

“You what!?” you look at Nina in disbelief. 

“I signed you up for that app” she replies putting all her focus on applying the nail polish to her toes and ignoring you.

“I told you I didn’t want to!” 

She looks up at you with a straight face. “So, you lied” 

“Yes. Because it’s my choice!” 

She stops her ministrations and places the tiny bottle of nail polish down on the table. “Too bad y/n” she shrugs casually because she probably can’t see the problem with her actions. “You’re all signed up and well I paid for it so you can’t really cancel until a few days” 

“You just wasted your money” you flop into the sofa, limbs falling over the edges. 

Just then your phone vibrates and you pick it  up. It’s a notification from the ‘Swipe’ app. Who even names their app Swipe? 

You’re in the midst of opening your phone when it’s snatched from you by Nina. Again.

“Hey!” you yell in protest. 

“Sorry cous” she shrugs and runs towards the bathroom just as you begin to get up from your comfortable spot. 

“Nina give my phone back or I will kill you!” 

“You’ll thank me for this!”she yells . Then you hear the sound of the door shutting and it prompts you to run after her. 

“Why are you being an ass?” you pound on the door with your fist 

“I am just helping you” comes her relaxed voice. 

“You fucking suck!” you groan and give up hitting your fist against the door because it starts to hurt. 

A second later she is opening the door, waving your phone in her hand with a mischievous grin on her face. “Talk to him” she throws your phone at you and then strides by as if it’s all part of your normal living routine. 

You fumble as you catch your phone. “Talk to who?” you look after her. 

“The hottie” she looks at you over her shoulder and then disappears up the stairs and into her bedroom. 

“What the fuck?” you flip your phone and come across an open chat, a ‘hi’ already sent. 

Your eyes flicker to the tiny profile picture at the top of the screen. You can’t really see the guy’s face because it’s covered by a black hat. You click on it and it enlarges, yet you still can’t make out his face because the image is so pixelated. Despite yourself, you find your curiosity piqued by the mysterious stranger. 

You swipe to his profile which reads: 

Art connoisseur, wine taster, dog lover. Classical music is a comfort for my soul. Grew up in LA but made it on my own in New York. 

Three things strike you as you read his profile: he sounds and (going by his photo) he looks like he’s probably rich. Normal people with regular jobs don’t talk about art and wine like it’s their occupation. Second, he likes classical music and so do you, and he grew up in LA and so did you. Third, even though in none of his pictures his face is visible what does become clear is that he is definitely a man of refined tastes. 

He’s got pictures of himself in various museums with his back facing the camera and The Starry Night and Mona Lisa making an appearance in the background as he presumably admires the beautiful masterpieces. He's got pictures of a dog, you assume his, which is the cutest dog you have laid eyes on. It’s a Black and Tan Pomeranian with the cutest face. 

Your attention is stolen by a notification that appears at the top of your screen. You find yourself directed to the messages and staring back at you is a ‘hey’ by the art connoisseur guy whose username weirdly is ‘icedtea’. What kind of dating app allows usernames like that? 

You blink at your screen and then shut your phone, too tired and exhausted to respond. In fact, you don’t even know if you want to respond or if you have any interest in all of this dating crap. 

It’s at this moment you regret you aren’t seventeen and hence can’t indulge in simple pleasures of life like feelings and dating. Because if you were seventeen you would have talked to him and grabbed the opportunity. Because if you were seventeen you would let yourself be swept off your feet by him or by any other man. Because when you were seventeen you let yourself fall in love. 

But all of it seems like a scam anyway, especially this guy. So maybe it’s not such a bad thing to feel so removed from it. Or maybe that’s just another excuse not to open yourself up to a wider world and explore wider horizons as Nina puts it.

Saturday nights are supposed to be relaxing. They are supposed to be the one day you get to yourself. The one day you can be free of your boss’s incessant nagging about how you and her son would be the perfect couple and how you would have beautiful babies together. It’s the one day you don’t have a shit ton of work to do and you can put your feet up on the table, grab popcorn and watch horror movies all night long. After all there is nothing like horror movies to de-stress from real life horror called ‘work’. It’s a counterintuitive approach and it works. It’s for cathartic purposes which why you do it despite disapproving looks from Nina. 

“You’re so fucking weird cous” she drawls, dipping her hand into the popcorn bowl resting on your lap and taking a handful of it, and spilling some on you. You pick each kernel from your lap and throw it at her. She isn’t fazed by it at all and keeps her eyes glued to the TV. 

“I thought this is fucking weird” you scowl at her and then focus your attention to the movie. 

“I can still enjoy popcorn,” she says in her usual monotone voice. “Besides, I wouldn’t expect anything exciting from you. Like texting the app guy instead of watching a movie” she pops a few kernels in her mouth like a savage, smearing butter all over her mouth. 

Your brows furrow in distaste. “Why can’t you be more… gentle” 

“Because I am masculine and gay” 

You choke which makes her start laughing. “You are!?” you gawk at her. 

“No. Chill. I just like mess you fucking weirdo” a crooked smile forms on her lips. 

“Asshole” you throw a kernel at her which hits her cheek. She is yet unfazed by it. “I think your dick disappeared in the womb” you remark at her tomboyish ways which there is nothing wrong with except she doesn’t have a shred of gracefulness in her despite coming from a long line of ballerina’s. 

“I know” she grabs another handful and shoves it in her mouth. “Anyway” her voice is unclear as she is in the middle of chewing. “The guy from the app. Have you texted him back?” she rubs her hands on her PJ’s. 

You restrain yourself from commenting on her unhygienic ways. “No I haven’t” 

“What the fuck are you waiting for? Christmas? It's been more than 24 hours” she looks at you incredulously, disbelief painted on her face clear as day. 

“He looks sketchy as fuck” you turn to her. 

She guffaws. “Really, cous. You should be the last person passing judgements on men. The last time you were with a guy was when you were seventeen fucking years old” 

“Yeah. So?” you shrug, feeling offended by her remark. 

“So” she turns her body towards you, placing one foot underneath her knee, sitting partially cross legged. “You are highly unqualified to make that statement. Why do you think I picked him? I know my men” 

“It’s a wonder you haven’t died of syphilis” 

She rolls her eyes very dramatically and sighs as if she’s about to give up. But then she settles back and regards you in silence. Before you know what’s happening she is grabbing your phone, and unlocking it. 

“What are you doing?” you extend an arm across her body to reach for your phone. But she stretches her arm further out of your reach. 

“Stop resisting. Trust me you and this guy will hit it off and then you can finally get laid. I can tell he’s a freak in the sheets” she furiously types and waits and then types again. 

Sometimes you can’t believe how she strings words together. The things that come out of her mouth will make her poor mother faint. She has no clue she gave birth to the literal spawn of the devil. 

“Whatever” you sigh and settle back because there is no point in arguing with her. You would rather not waste any more precious time on her and her stupid antics. 

“Here” she throws your phone at you and it lands in your lap. “He’s a fucking catch y/n. Cast your net” she winks. 

You look at your phone to find a picture of the cute Pomerian from before. The caption underneath the picture reads “Yeontan”. To your horror you scroll up to find the cheesiest and most disgusting pick up line in the history of pick up lines. 

It reads: 

Bananamilk: Hey are you art? Because I could look at you all day long ;)))))

Icedtea: Are you religious? Because you are the answer to all my prayers

It's highly mortifying, to say the least. How does she even think of these things? You seriously wonder what goes on in her head. She'll definitely land herself in trouble. But there are more pressing concerns to think of because the art connoisseur guy has sent another picture. You scroll down the chat and find a picture of a dog standing on two paws and the other two held up in air.

Icedtea: can you tell I love my dog?

You have no choice but to text back because Nina is right there and if you don’t she will pester you. 

Bananamilk: I sure can :) He's cute too.

Icedtea: How did you know he's a he?

Bananamilk: lucky guess?

You see the three ellipses showing that he's typing so you quickly turn to Nina, who has already changed the movie to some weird random action flick.

"Hey asshole" you throw a pillow at her.

"Yes, weirdo?" she looks from the TV screen to you.

"Why does this scam of an app not have our real names as our users and why did you not use a proper picture of me?" you frown at her.

"Welcome to the 21st century" she offers sarcastically. Of course, what else can you really expect from her? "It's because they offer that as a choice for people who don’t want to share everything on the first try because it’s not a dating app. I told you you can choose what you wanna do. Also, I used that hiking picture of you because well blonde hair looked better on you and those glasses suit you. I thought you wouldn't like showing your face and me putting your name down, so I chose the next best thing"

"Banana milk?" you raise a brow at her, not even trying to hide the judgemental tone behind that comment.

"Hey! banana milk is the best kind of milk okay? Stop being a judgemental bitch"

You chuckle at her expression which screams she's offended. "Thanks anyway. At least you don't completely lack humanity"

“That’s a step up from calling me spawn of the devil” she chuckles, returning her focus to the TV.

Just then your phone vibrates and for some damn reason, your heart skips a beat. You feel your lips tugging at the corners and hurriedly open the text.

Icedtea: I see you also like classical music.

Bananamilk: I love it

Icedtea: it's so much better than all this garbage people spew out and label as music these days

Bananamilk: Right? I've had so many debates about it with people around me and everyone just calls me insipid and biddy.

Icedtea: I take offense to this. Classical music is anything but boring. What's your favourite piece?

Bananamilk: I have a lot but I love Tchaikovsky'Swan Lake. What about you?

Icedtea: That sure is a classic. I might be cliche but I like Beethoven's 7th symphony.

Bananamilk: That isn’t cliche at all. It sure is one of the best ones out there. You have great taste

Icedtea: Thank you m’lady. What else do you like?

Bananamilk: I firmly hold the belief that I was born in the wrong century. But when in Rome live like Romans right?. So...Netflix. 

Icedtea: I knew that was coming. No conversation is complete without Netflix. It’s the new status quo 

Bananamilk: It is and I HATE the status quo but Netflix is sort of amazing? 

Icedtea: Have you watched The Witcher yet?

Bananamilk: I devoured it when it came out. I would never pass on any Henry Cavill show or movie. The man is ethereal and he should be illegal 

Somehow talking to this stranger isn’t as bad as you thought it would be. He’s actually kind of sweet and you do share interests in common. Maybe Nina-- the spawn of the devil, is actually onto something. Maybe this wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all. Maybe you can pretend to be seventeen for a little while longer. 

Icedtea: i have to agree with you on that 

Bananamilk: Oh? 

Icedtea: Not like that. Like I said in my profile I am an art connoisseur. Would I be wrong in saying that Mr. Henry Cavill is art? I appreciate beauty when I see it. I don’t discriminate or be sexist about it. 

Bananamilk: You’re right he is a piece of art. A goddamn fine piece of art. 

Icedtea: You’re funny 

A laugh escapes past your lips at his compliment making Nina’s attention shift towards you. 

“Careful y/n, don’t fall in love too fast” her voice cuts through and pulls you out of your immersed state. 

You shoot her a disapproving look. “Only you would say something as irrationly idiotic as that” 

“The smile on your face a minute ago said otherwise” she shrugs. 

“You’re hallucinating”

“Sure. Whatever you say” she snorts. 

You both end up softly chuckling to yourself. 

You spend the rest of the night talking to V. It’s what he tells you to call him. At first you found it weird but you felt it too early to probe and pry about his personal life. You figure it must have some meaning for him to ask you to call him that. You end up telling him to call you whatever he wishes and he chooses m’lady, because apparently he is a gentleman and in his words “also born in the wrong century”. 

Iced tea: I hated growing up in LA. Worst place ever. Really blows your self esteem to pieces. That’s why I moved to New York 

Bananamilk: It’s all about validation at that godforsaken place. 

Icedtea: Right? I am so glad I got out of that place.  

Bananamilk: Me too. One more year there and I would have lost it. Btw why is your username icedtea? Just curious 

Icedtea: I love iced tea. That’s why. When I have to go to these company parties and interact with rich white men, I fool them into thinking I am drinking alcohol and joining the status quo. But it’s actually iced tea. It looks like alcohol anyway so why not?

Bananamilk: I like intellectuals. You sir, sure are one 

Icedtea: Thank you m’lady. I suppose you love banana milk?

Bananamilk: Uhhh… i guess you can say so 

You lose track of time as you keep texting back and forth, coming to a point where you are just exchanging puns and one liners but then sleep begins to lay heavy in your eyes and the curtain of your lashes starts closing. The last thing you see is a ‘good night’ text from V with a purple heart. 

You wake up to a text from V. The initial pleasant feeling comes as a surprise even to you because you didn’t expect to feel so -- special, dare anyone say. It turns out to be a gif of the very sexy Henry Cavill wishing you good morning. 

Bananamilk: awww you remembered? 

Icedtea: Ofcourse, I did :) A very good morning to you

Bananamilk: Good morning to you too 

Icedtea: I am actually heading out so won’t be able to talk much until I get there

Bananamilk: me neither. I am sure a huge pile of work is waiting for me at work

You drag yourself out of the bed, feeling slightly disappointed and dreadful for two reasons. One that you have to go to the doctor. Second, you won’t get much chance to talk to this very pleasing stranger you have actually started to take a liking to. It’s only because you have things in common with him that you feel drawn to him. 

Or that’s what gives you comfort when your mind reminds you there is something else happening too— something a little uncomfortable called ‘feelings’

But you’re dead set on believing that it’s because you share commonalities. 

At least that’s what you tell yourself in moments when your mind isn’t preoccupied by anything and he pops into your head. 

Like when you’re going through paperwork, and nothing particularly is keeping you engaged, conversations with him flash in your head. In particular, the fluttery feeling that rose to your chest yesterday morning when you saw his username appear on your screen and then a very sweet good morning text. 

You have never in twenty whole three years of your life received good morning texts. Not even from Woohyun who you were with when you were seventeen. Up until recently you were sure he was your one true love. But somehow that perception is beginning to change. Because a man named V who resides in the Apple city is slowly but surely showing you what a man actually interested in you will do. 

So is it really your fault that your chest feels light, your stomach feels tight when you think of him? Is it really your fault that you are in such a good mood? So much so, that when Nina flings the door and walks into your office unannounced you greet her with a smile instead of having a full blown dramatic altercation.

“Woah” she stops in her tracks when she notices your smile. “Where the fuck is y.n?” 

“Uhhhh….” you put the papers down. “Right here” you point to yourself. 

“No that’s not her” she deadpans. “Did she finally die?”

“Wow” you huff. “Anyway, did you get bored of hell?” 

“Hell doesn’t need me right now” she waves you off. You love how you jab at each other but never take it seriously. That’s what you love about her. Ofcourse, you don’t hate her but somehow taking digs at each other has just become the norm. Multiple times people have asked you if you guys really hate each other, and both of you reply positively to those claims, because they don’t need to know that you truly do like each other. “I am here to inquire about you and lover boy” 

“L-Lover boy?” your brows furrow. “I don’t even know if it’s a boy. For all I know its a girl and I am falling for a girl” 

“And that’s a problem because…?” she trails off, swivelling in the chair in front of you. 

“There is nothing wrong with being gay. But I just imagine him as a guy and well I am not really.. You know?” 

“I digress. I’ve seen your texts. He’s definitely a guy and charming at that” 

“How the fuck did you see my texts?” you gape at her, unable to believe that she’s actually figured out the password to-- but then you remember she’s opened it up twice when she was forcefully trying to set up your profile and get you to talk to V. How this never occurred to you, you don’t know. 

“I sneaked into your room at like 5 am, opened it up and read your texts” she says matter-of-factly. 

“Is there ever a wrong thing you don’t involve yourself in?”

“Nope” she shakes her head. “You’re going off track, cousin. Tell me the deets” 

“There are no deets. Why are you asking? You read the texts anyway” you shake your head at her 

“ Not all of them. I have a conscience you know?”

“The Devil has no conscience” you mumble under your breath. “He sent me a good morning text with a Henry Cavill gif captioned good morning” 

Her eyes widen, brows risen. “A guy who doesn’t find your Henry Cavill obsession creepy? Told you he’s a fucking catch” 

You chuckle “How the hell did you find my office?” 

“Simple. I asked around” she purses her lips in a smile. 

“You got your so called deets. Now get out” you offer a sarcastic smile before lowering your head and busying yourself in analyzing the reports in front of you. 

She gasps. “Wow bitch. So much for helping you” she dramatically places a hand on her chest feigning hurt. 

“Get out, asshole” you say in a sing song voice completely avoiding her. 

“I am gonna steal this guy from you” she gives you a dirty look. “Just you watch” 

“He likes classical music” you quip, keeping your eyes focused on the papers in front of you. 

Another gasp fills the air. “Abomination. Nevermind you keep him to yourself. We don’t need that kind of atrocity in the world” 

“Bye” you look up from your desk and flash her a quick smile. 

“Have a horrible day cousin” she waves as she walks away

“Likewise cousin” 

Your phone vibrates and immediately you drop the papers on your desk and reach for it, all preoccupation with work forgotten in a moment. 

Icedtea: Save me 

Bananamilk: you’re supposed to be my knight in shining armour. 

Icedtea: Welcome to the 21st century. 

Bananamilk: People keep telling me that :| Why do you need saving? 

Icedtea: I am flying out to meet my mother today and let's just say she’s a handful

Bananamilk: that’s mothers for you. But then what would we do without them 

Icedtea: thats true. But my mother is on a whole other level. 

Bananamilk: everyone thinks that. I am sure you can handle yourself. You are a big boy. 

Icedtea: how reassuring. 

Bananamilk: I wish I could offer more but sometimes you just have to suck it up. 

Icedtea: I suck at sucking it up

It makes you chuckle. You shake your head at the phone as your fingers furiously type. 

Bananamilk: Do you trust me?

Iced tea: You use big words 

Bananamilk: If you trust me, even just a teeny tiny bit then trust that you will be okay.

Icedtea: Six-ish hours in an airplane. That should be fun

Bananamilk: You will be fine. 

Icedtea: if you say so m’lady. Anyway, I gotta catch my flight. I will talk to you later. Promise. 

Bananamilk: Have a safe flight V :) 

Icedtea: See ya later alligator ;) 

You turn off your phone and lower your head resting it atop your arms on your desk. Somehow you feel giddy. You feel warmth coursing through you, yet a sudden shiver passes through your body. The conversation repeats in your head and you wonder about the face that hides behind the other side of the screen. What does he actually look like? It’s hard when you don’t know, to imagine how he smiles, what he looks like when he laughs, when he frowns. All the emotions he evokes in you, you want to know what they look like on him. 

It’s a strange feeling to behold these feelings, to have them flow through you when you don’t even know who it is on the other side. In a way it’s a recipe for disaster because things like this don’t end well for most people. Yet here you are stuck in a very surreal situation, one you never thought you would find yourself in. 

The rest of the day after your conversation with V, passes by very quickly. It would have dragged on, had it not been for the mood he had managed to put you in. After a while, even the amount of paperwork on your desk couldn’t deter and terrify you. If anything, being able to talk to him after work motivated you to work faster. And working actually distracted you from him which is a good thing because you do need to get work done. So in a way, it worked out either way. 

The day surprisingly ends with Mrs.K not calling you into her office even once. You would feel thankful anytime for this, but especially this particular day you feel grateful because it surely would have put a small damper on your mood. You gather your belongings and head out, glancing at your phone here and there. Has he reached safely? That is the one thought that occupies your head. 

He hasn’t texted you so you think he’s either not landed yet, or he’s busy. You didn’t want to press him for details. Although you do feel like you are at that friendship stage, it only feels like the beginning. So you want to still maintain boundaries as best you can. Just because it’s an online thing doesn’t mean boundaries don’t exist-- a fact many people fail to grasp. 

You mindlessly reach the lobby without even realizing it. You’re stepping out of the elevators when you see Mrs K. walking with a man, her hand hooked in the crook of his elbow. By the looks of it, he appears to be young. He’s definitely tall- close to six feet probably. Something falls out of his pocket as you observe them. You try to call out but decide it’s better to just pick it up and give it to him. 

You jog to where the object has dropped and as you draw closer you realize it’s a piece of paper. You don’t mean to pry but as you pick it up the paper slightly unfolds and curiosity ends up getting the best of you. It’s not like you opened it. It unfolded itself, so you take it upon yourself to straighten out the rest. It’s a beautiful sketch of a girl. She looks like she’s in her twenties. The way he drew her eyes makes it look like she’s holding stars behind them and gives the illusion of them sparkling. Must be someone he likes, or someone he admires. You quickly fold it back, not wanting to further invade the stranger’s privacy. 

“Excuse me!” you call out. 

Mrs. K turns around first and then the young man next to her does the same. His eyes land right on you and feeling his gaze, your eyes flicker from Mrs K. to him. You were right. He is young, and extremely handsome. He’s got permed hair that falls as bangs on his forehead. His black hair is a little grown out as it forms a nape on his neck like a mullet. For a brief second you want to run your hand through his head. He’s even wearing a suit so you imagine he might be a corporate guy. It seems to be perfectly tailored to him, the jacket flaring slightly just above his waist and the pants accentuating his long lean legs. 

Shaking away the thoughts, you approach them. “You dropped this” hand outstretched. You hold out the drawing to him. 

“Thank you” comes his deep voice. It doesn’t match very well with his face because he looks like someone who would have a softer voice. 

“No problem” you smile and he takes the paper from your hand, his fingers gently grazing yours as he does so, and a shiver runs down your spine at the contact. You ignore the sensation and turn to Mrs.K. “Hello Mrs. K.” you greet her holding onto your smile. 

“Y/n! Lovely that we ran into you here.” 

“Y/n?” the young man looks at Mrs. K and then at you with a raised brow

“This is the girl I have been telling you about all along” she looks giddly between you and him. “Y/n this is my son” he unhooks her arm from his elbow and he politely puts his hands together in front of himself. 

Oh so this is him. 

He first offers you a small nod and then extends his hand. “I am Kim Taehyung” 

You look between the mother and son, eyes stopping on the man you know as Taehyung.His name does ring a bell given the countless times it’s been mentioned to you.  “Nice to meet you Taehyung. I am y/n” you shake his hand which is warm and just firm enough. 

“Pleasure is mine. I have heard a lot about you” he smiles in that knowing way, a glint of recognition of his mother’s words reflecting in his eyes. He’s surely referring to the tons of times Mrs K. would’ve mentioned you as a potential romantic partner.  

“I have heard tons about you too” your lips curve up in an unintentional smile as his eyes bore into yours. There is a moment of silence as both of you quietly look at each other until Mrs. K clears her throat and you both look away. 

“My mother seems to be a fan of yours. That’s a hard feat. I haven’t been able to do that in twenty-five years of my life” his lips split in a mischievous smile which is warm and you feel yourself falling into it as well. 

“She adores you” you look between Mrs K. and him. 

“You’re just saying that because she’s right here and you can’t out her because she’s your boss. Be honest” he retorts in a playful tone.

Mrs Kim. gently slaps him across the shoulder. “Stop it. You’re embarrassing me” 

You chuckle at the cuteness that is Mrs K, and even her son Kim Taehyung. 

“I am sorry if I interrupted you. I only wanted to give you the paper. It fell out of your pocket” you look at Taehyung and then at Mrs. K feeling a little guilty about imposing on their time.

“Oh you stop it too y/n” Mrs.K waves you off.  “I am very glad you bumped into us like this. Now I have somewhere very important to be” she looks at her watch. “Taehyung be the gentleman that I raised you to be and drop y/n off at home” 

“No-” you open your mouth in protest but Mrs. K is already walking the opposite way towards the doors, albeit very hurriedly. Taehyung turns around to watch his mother amble away, leaving him and you alone. That was her intention the moment you stepped into the scene. 

He turns back around to face you. “She’s not very subtle about it is she?” and then he breaks out into a grin. 

“I am sorry to say this. But no” you grimace slightly. 

“It’s quite alright. I know she can be a handful” 

You remember how V called his mother a handful too and chuckle. 

“What is it?” his brows knit together in confusion. 

“It’s just that someone said that to me this morning. But sometimes you have to suck it up” your eyes lock on Taehyung’s. 

He laughs lightly too. “Funny. Someone said that to me this morning”

“That is…” you pause to search for the right word. “A little bit strange” 

“Well, stranger things have happened miss y/n” 

Little did you know both know he was right. Among the many strange that could happen, one of them was happening to you both and neither of you were aware of it. 

Taehyung being the filial son to his mother, decides to drive you home despite your protestation. He wouldn’t take no for an answer so despite yourself you agree to let him give you a ride. He’s actually as nice as his mother had said he is, and now you realize she wasn’t just saying that because he is her son. He really does have a warm personality, and you feel drawn to him. You can’t pinpoint it exactly to one thing because it’s several reasons—it’s the way he conducts himself, the way he speaks with authority yet politeness, the way he is so grounded and humble-- all of it makes him appealing. 

Even though he hails from a super rich family, drives an expensive Maybach which is worth more than your three year salary combined, and wears a suit that you can’t even think of buying-- he’s so humble. He isn’t flashy about it. He hasn’t once flexed his wealth or brought up his family with you. 

“I really want to apologize for my mother” he glances at you quickly before focusing back on the road. 

“It’s alright. You don’t have to talk so formally by the way” you try your best to put him at ease because since the moment you have met him he has been nothing but respectful. 

“Okay” he quips. “But I really am sorry. I know she can be a little bit too imposing sometimes” 

“She can. But I understand the reason. You’re her only son and she wants the best or you” 

You can feel his eyes on you which makes you turn to him. “What is it?” you question. 

He’s silent as he studies you, gaze lingering for a second longer and then he shifts his eyes to the road. “You’re not at all like my mother described you” 

“Really?” 

He nods. “You’re better” he glances at you from the corners of his eyes.

Your heart skips a beat at hearing him say that. “I am flattered. I always thought she was building you up and that you weren’t actually what she made you out to be” 

“And...?” he trails off as he quickly does a shoulder check and changes lanes. 

You let the silence build for a moment before speaking. “You’ve exceeded my expectations” a slow smile appears on your lips.You watch as he turns to you briefly and his mouth parts into a small smile as well. 

Silence falls over you. You look out of the window and watch as the city passes you by with its tall buildings, skyscrapers and large mountains. You rest your head against the headrest and fumble with your fingers absentmindedly, absorbing yourself into the passing landscape. Out of the corner of your eyes you notice Taehyung loosening his tie, an action that ends up making you smile to yourself-- for what reason, you don’t know. You have known him for ten minutes and he’s already having an effect on you. 

“Music?” his voice cuts through the heavy silence, which comes as welcomed relief. 

“Sure” you nod. 

A second later music drifts through the speakers. The melody is familiar but because the volume is turned low, you can’t make it out. 

“Can I turn it up if you don’t mind?” 

“Please go ahead” he motions to the navigation system and you turn the dial. 

You wait for a moment as you take in the melody. “Is this Claire de Lune?” 

“You know it?” he looks at you from the periphery of his vision, slightly turning his head towards you. 

“Who doesn’t?” you look at him as if it’s the most obvious thing that everyone knows what Claire de Lune is. “Actually I take it back” 

He laughs and turns the volume lower so you can talk. “You are the second person I know who is into classical music. I think it’s my lucky week or something” 

Your lips teeter in a smile. “Who is the first person?” 

He doesn’t respond immediately and you notice him blinking rapidly as if he’s trying to contemplate what to say. “Someone I know” he says softly 

“Well now you know two people who share your interest” 

“That I do” he grins at you like a child does when they get their favorite toy or candy. 

It’s silent again until your stomach grumbles, catching Taehyung’s attention. “Someone’s hungry” 

Your cheeks flush in embarrassment, and the overall result is you lowering your head and tightening your arms around your torso.  “I had a lot of paperwork to look over so I didn’t take lunch” 

“I know a good place, if you want to grab a bite?” 

You ponder his offer. “I don’t think you’re a serial killer so I think it’s safe to go with you” 

A soft chuckle falls from his lips at your joke which suddenly makes a feeling of pride rise in your chest. “I listen to classical music” he wags his brows at you playfully. “Most definitive sign of a serial killer” 

“I have pepper spray so I’ll be okay” you say. 

It comes out more matter of factly which makes him do a double take “Wait, do you really have pepper spray?” a slight look of confusion presents on his face as his brows crinkle. 

“No” you laugh and shake your head. “I am joking” 

“Sense of humor. I like it” he nods slowly as if he’s impressed. 

“Well I could say the same for you” 

By the time you reach the place Taehyung wanted to bring you to, the sun has already set behind the mountains in the distance. The sky welcomes the dusk by softly melting from blue to black and a slight chill settles into the air. 

While you fumble with the belt, Taehyung much to your surprise gets out of the car. You follow his movements and watch him coming around to your side and open the door for you. 

You still can’t unbuckle your seatbelt. Fancy cars and their fancy seatbelts, you think. It shouldn’t have to be so hard but when something costs a fortune obviously there are going to things beyond the capacity of a common person like this seatbelt from hell. 

“May I?” Taehyung questions as he holds the door open and points to the seatbelt. 

“Thank you” you stop struggling with it and pull your hands back in your lap. 

“Sorry” he mumbles, ducking his head before he reaches across you and unbuckles it for you with a single click. He’s slowly pulling back when he stops, face inches away from yours, his warm breath fanning your face. His gaze lingers on you for a few seconds before he steps back and offers you his hand. You gratefully take it and with his help lift yourself up and out of the car. 

Thank you again” you say softly and he nods. 

He nods. “There’s something…” he reaches up and presses a finger to your cheek. He pulls it back and shows it to you. “Make a wish” he whispers. 

“W-what?” you whisper back in an entranced state. 

“You’re supposed to make a wish when a lash falls on your cheek” he says gently, reaching down to grab one of your hands. He then places it on the back of your hand. The spot he had touched makes your skin tingle. 

He’s holding your entire attention without even trying. Your mind is blank, and your eyes refuse to leave his gaze. It’s like he’s bewitched you, and you will be putty in his hands if he wished it this second. You would forget your inhibitions if he told you to. You’d give into whatever he tells you to if it means he’ll continue to look at you like he can’t see anything else around him. 

“Wish miss y/n” he motions to your hand as a reminder.

“I don’t know what to wish for” your voice comes out just a touch shy of a whisper. 

“Anything” his mouth parts in that heartbreakingly beautiful smile. “Whatever you want, it’s yours to wish for” 

With those simple words melting into your mind like a mantra, you close your eyes and wish with your entire being. You open your eyes to find him looking at you with that soft look in his eyes. 

“What did you wish for?” he asks

“I don’t wish and tell” you joke 

He laughs. “Alright. Fair enough. Shall we go inside?” he offers his arm. 

“I am not sure you’re real” you chuckle hooking your hand in his elbow. 

“I am very real” he leans down towards you. “You can check” he turns his cheek in your direction for you to satisfy your curiosity. 

You poke his cheek, a bit harder than you’re meant to just to tease him. “Real for sure” 

“That’s gonna bruise” his lip juts in a pout as he straightens up. “Like my dear mother said before, she raised me to be a gentleman” 

“You should have been born like ten decades earlier” you tease. 

“I know. I was born in the wrong century” he begins walking again with you in tow. 

You walk across the parking lot and arrive at  the restaurant. To your surprise it isn’t an expensive place you had been expecting. It’s a mid range restaurant, the perfect combination of affordable and fancy. You can eat what you want without having to worry about your bank balance but still feel bougie while doing so. 

There is no line up but from the large windows you can see the whole restaurant is full, a good indication that the food must be delicious. Just the thought makes your mouth water. Taehyung holds the door open for you and you step inside. You wait for him and then both of you proceed further where you are greeted by the hostess.

“Your name please Sir?” she asks graciously 

“Kim Taehyung” he replies with a thin lipped smile 

“Right this way Mr. and Mrs.Kim” she says, and you open your mouth to protest but Taehyung vigorously shakes his head. Confusedly you follow behind him,  hand still resting in the crook of his elbow. The hostess leads you to a table in a quiet corner for which you feel thankful. 

She lays down your menus on the table and then saunters off. Taehyung unwraps your hand from his arm gently and is quick to pull back a chair. “Here wifey” he says with a wink. 

“Excuse me?” you try to hold back your laugh. 

“You’re my wife so this is the least I can do for you” he grins from ear to ear

You shake your head and comply. Once you’re seated he pushes the chair in and then rounds the table to sit in front of you. 

“We’ve only known each other for” you look at your watch and then up at him. “Thirty minutes and now I am your wife?” 

“Come on. You might as well be because my dear mother is hell bent on you and I getting together” he says with a playful smile. 

“Hmm” you lean back against your chair as you scrutinize him. “Jokes aside. What’s your honest opinion on that?” somehow the curiosity ends up getting the better of you. You weren’t going to ask him but since he brought it up you really did want to know what he thought about all of it because eventually one day you would have had to meet him anyway. You already told Mrs.K you would so now is better than later. 

“Honestly? I don’t know what I think about the prospect of us” 

You feel a slight pang rise in your chest at his remark. “Is there someone else?” 

“Ummm” his lip protrudes in a pout as he thinks. “Not really” 

“It’s alright you can tell me” you prompt, genuinely interested. But underneath all of that is somehow a slight twinge of disappointment that settles in your chest.

“I met her online” he quips, looking away sheepishly. “But it’s just friendship at this point. Nothing more” 

“Never know Mr.Kim. It might turn into something more” 

“Eh” he shrugs. “Mrs. Kim” he adds with a goofy grin. “I like how it sounds” 

“What?” 

“Mr. and Mrs.Kim. It’s pleasant to hear” 

“Don’t get hung up on it” you chuckle. 

“Don’t break my heart okay?” 

“You are something else Kim Taehyung” you shake your head at him with a smile

You spend the rest of the time at the restaurant ordering food, eating and talking. Being around him is like comfort. It feels like coming home after a long hard day at work and relaxing. Being around him is also intoxicating because he feels a little bit like a drug— addicting and euphoric. 

You find out that you and him share not only love for classical music but also for reading. He’s apparently very big on classics like 1984 and Brave New World. Brave New World was the first novel you ever read and it captivated you in a way nothing has captured your attention— until V and Taehyung. 

“1984 was so amazing. It’s Orwell’s masterpiece” his voice sounds distant in your ears.

“Hmm?” you blink away your thoughts focusing back on him, the feeling of nervousness slowly pooling in your stomach. 

“What’s on your mind?” he drops the fork he’s holding, and focuses all his attention on you as he stares at you intently.

“Nothing. I just zoned out” you supply with a pursed smile. 

“I see why my mother likes you” 

“Why?” 

“You have a way of making people curious. I look at you and I think she’s an open book. But then I talk to you and you’re a complete mystery” his eyes crinkle at the corners as he very imperceptibly narrows his eyes in that intrigued kind of way. 

“Trust me. I am no mystery. I lay it all out there for people to see because I can’t do mystery”

“Are you sure y/n?” your name falls softly through his lips. “Because I feel like I know you, yet I don’t” 

You chuckle and shake your head. “What do you want to know?” 

“What would you be comfortable sharing?” 

He couldn’t get any more perfect could he? 

Never before has anyone in your life ever asked you that. People always list out things they would like to know. They never ask for permission or even consider if what they want to know is something you’re okay talking about. 

“I-”

“Are you enjoying everything Mr. and Mrs. Kim?” The hostess comes by your table. 

“Actually the thing is we’re-”

“Everything is delicious. Thank you” Taehyung replies with a warm smile. 

“Enjoy” she says and then strides away to another table. 

Once she leaves you turn to him. “You are enjoying this aren’t you? This whole Mr. and Mrs. Kim thing” 

“Oh come on. Don’t be a joy killer. I told you I love how it sounds. And I like being Mr. Kim” he shrugs. 

“But you’re Mr. Kim anyway” you remind him. 

“Yeah. But the context is different. I am the ‘married’ Mr. Kim right now.” he says it so lightly it almost makes you choke. You don’t even think he realizes how that sounds. 

“Get married and then you’ll always be the married Mr. Kim.” you tease despite feeling like it’s a little too flirty for the first meeting. You take a sip of water feeling your throat drying by the second. 

“Then marry me y/n” 

You choke on the water “W-what?” a cough passes through your chest and out. 

He silently observes the shocked expression on your face, a smile teetering at the edge of his lips. “I am kidding.” he replies a moment later. 

“Good. I thought you were serious for a second” you shake your head at him grabbing a napkin to wipe your mouth. 

He grins goofily at you. “Are you okay though?” 

“No thanks to you” you reach for the glass of water and chug it.

After dinner Taehyung suggests dessert. It turns out you both share an undying love for shaved ice. Taehyung even pulls out pictures of him in fancy shaved ice places in New York to prove to you he’s serious. In turn you show him a list of shaved ice you have already tried and how you’ve ranked them from best to worst. 

“No way. You think strawberry is the worst flavor?” he looks at you, disbelief and incredible disappointment painted altogether on his face. 

“I am sorry. I think it is. But mango, now that’s a great shaved ice flavor. Strawberry is too light for me”

“Wow. I am thoroughly offended” he huffs and pouts like a child. 

“I didn’t mean to offend you. I am just being honest” you pat him on the back with mock sympathy.

“Well your honesty hurts. Strawberries are the best thing in the world” he continues to pout as you walk to the shaved ice place

“Do you feel this strongly about anything else in your life Taehyung?” 

“No. My grandparents own a strawberry farm and I grew up eating strawberries. So, I am highly biased towards them” 

You nod in understanding because it makes sense why he would violently hold so much love for strawberries. “Mrs.K never mentioned that” 

“I think she’s embarrassed by it,” he shrugs. “Or maybe it just never came up” 

You round the corner and arrive in front of the shaved ice shop. Taehyung once again opens the door for you. 

“You have to stop doing this” you mumble as you step in first. 

“Why?” his brows crinkle as he enters after you, gently placing a hand on the small of your back to guide you through the sea of people

“People will think we are actually together” 

“So?” he shrugs like he couldn’t care less. “I thought you didn’t care what people think” 

You regard him as you stand in line to order, forced to think about your perception. “Actually. Yeah I don’t care” you say firmly because it shouldn’t matter what people think. 

“I don’t see the point of living my life on others’ terms” he says with a serious face. 

“That’s fair” you reply. He’s right. You shouldn’t care what people think and the confidence with which he says it makes you question all the times in your life you have let others get to you. 

“So” he turns to look at the giant board on the wall behind the cash register displaying the different flavours. “I assume it’s Tropical Mango shaved ice for you” 

You pout as you think. “You know what, I’ll give the strawberry a try”

His eyes widen allowing a sparkle to reflect in his eyes. “Really?” 

You nod. In response his smile grows wider and wider until he’s positively beaming. Your turn to order arrives fairly quickly and Taehyung places the order. You don’t pay attention though because you are enraptured by the way light reflects on his face and makes his sun kissed skin look even more golden. You get entrapped by his voice which sends shivers down your spine yet is somehow comforting.

Of course when you say you can split the bill he violently shakes his head and refuses to let you pay. You take your number and find a seat at the corner after he ushers you the table and excuses himself to use the washroom. You pull out your phone now that you have some time and send a text to V. He’s been in the back of your mind all day long. 

Bananamilk: Hey V, did you reach safely? 

Almost instantly you receive a reply which makes your heart pound hard against your chest.. 

Icedtea: Yes I did. I am so sorry I couldn’t message earlier. My mom kind of ditched me. But I made a new friend because of it! 

A smile unconsciously squeezes its way onto your lips despite your efforts not to.

Bananamilk: that’s great! I hope you’re having fun 

Icedtea: I am. She’s great 😊 

Bananamilk: Oh it’s a girl 

Even your message itself sounds jealous of this girl. He’ll obviously catch it. 

Icedtea: Is someone jealous? 

Bananamilk: I am not jealous. I just made a comment

Icedtea: Sure. Whatever you say m’lady ;)

Bananamilk: V! I am not jealous. I am happy you made a new friend. I also made a new friend and he’s awesome. 

Icedtea: 🤔 is he more handsome than I am? 

Bananamilk: I don’t even know what you look like

Icedtea: yes you do 

Bananamilk: can’t really see your face in the pictures 

Icedtea: you’ll see it soon enough. One day. 

Bananamilk: if your face is anything like your personality, I am sure you are beautiful 

Icedtea: you really know how to stroke a mans’ ego

Bananamilk: don’t let it get to you

Icedtea: Don’t change the subject m’lady. 

Bananamilk: you changed the subject V

Icedtea: are you having a good time with your new friend? 

Bananamilk: he’s a really nice guy. You know strangely enough he reminds me of you

Icedtea: Oh really? That��s good then. At least you will remember me when you’re with him. Works for me! 

Bananamilk: shut up. 

Icedtea: I am sure you’re blushing right now

He’s not wrong. A soft heat starts building under your cheeks and then it violently flares into a red that covers your face. You can feel the heat settling in, emanating from your skin. 

Bananamilk: I’ll have to remind myself to not pay you compliments again 

Icedtea: That just tells me you’re actually blushing. 

Bananamilk: Oh god. Why are you so fixated on it? 

Icedtea: I like the idea of you blushing because of me 

Bananamilk: 🙄

Icedtea: How cute 

Bananamilk: Aren’t you supposed to be with your friend? Emphasis on the friend 

Icedtea: I knew you were jealous! But yes she’s waiting for me so I should probably go. Talk to you later?

Bananamilk: If you stop being weird I’ll talk to you 

Icedtea: Haha okay. I’ll talk to you later m’lady 🤗

Bananamilk: Talk to you later V 🤗

With that last text sent you already feel the anticipation building for when you get to talk to him next. It baffles you as the recognition crosses your mind and you become aware of your own feelings. 

Before you can further dwell on it Kim Taehyung approaches your table and takes the seat in front of you. 

“You’re red like a tomato” he remarks, a curious look crossing his face. 

“I am what?” you touch your cheeks. 

“Red. Completely and absolutely red” he repeats. 

“I just feel like it’s hot in here” you fan your face avoiding his gaze. 

“Like I said you’re a complete mystery” he replies. You assume because of the lack of context he finds you are hiding something which seems fair enough. 

“About that” you stop your ministrations and find the courage to look at him. “Ask me whatever you like” 

“That’s very vague” 

“Fine. I’ll tell you myself. I grew up in LA. Lived there until two years ago and then moved here to San Francisco. Then somehow by luck I ended up getting a job at Misim and now I am here, sitting in front of you” 

“Shut up” his jaw drops. “You grew up in LA too?” 

“You grew up in LA?” you repeat back, feeling curious. 

“I did. I lived there until about eighteen and then we moved here to San Fran. My mom then founded Misim and she initially wanted me to run the company but I have no interest in that side of things. So I moved to New York after high school and got a full scholarship to Columbia” he grabs a glass and pours water and slides it towards you and then pours himself one and takes a sip. 

“ You went to Columbia?” you gawk at him. 

“That hard to believe huh?” he chuckles 

“No. It’s not that. I don’t know anyone who went there and that too on full scholarship. What did you study at Columbia?” 

“Business marketing” he quips, taking another sip of water. 

“Wow” you nod slowly, filled with acknowledgement that he’s not only got beauty but he’s also got the brains. More than that though it’s the recognition that he’s a whole package which is slowly settling its roots in you. He’s got the personality to go with it. It’s the awareness that the more you talk to him the more he piques your interest and the more you want to know. “Why business marketing?” 

“I am a nerd that’s why” his lips flutter open ever so softly in a smile. 

“A self-proclaimed nerd. Wow. I like it. What else makes you a nerd?” you chuckle. 

“I love art, travelling, learning about anything I can get my hands on. If you think about it, we can learn from anyone and anything. You just have to have that mindset” 

“Where have you travelled to?” 

“I went to Bali a few months ago. Before that I was in Italy and then Peru and right after highschool I went to Morocco” 

“That’s amazing! I’ve always wanted to travel” you say, feeling slightly disappointed at not having had the opportunity to go where you have always wanted to. 

“I sense a ‘but’ in there somewhere” 

“But” you sigh. “I never had the time. Not to mention it’s an expensive habit” 

“I’ll take you. Wherever you want to go” he replies

“You’ll take me?” you narrow your eyes at him warily. 

“I will” he shrugs. 

“You don’t even know me” 

“Something tells me miss y/n, we’ll be seeing each other a lot. So I’ll get to know you and then I’ll take you wherever you want to go”

“What gives you that idea?” you lean in slightly intrigued by his confidence. 

“What would you say if I asked you right now that there is somewhere I want to take you and that if you’re free next weekend I would love to show you” he asks exuding a kind of confidence you have never felt yourself subjected to before. 

Would you say no? No. 

Will you take the time to pretend like you’re thinking so you don’t come off as eager? Yes. 

So after a moment of acting like you’re mulling it over, you reply. “I would say that I would love to go with you next Saturday” 

“See?I told you we will be seeing each other”

“How did you know I would say yes? You wouldn’t have been that confident if you didn’t know Kim Taehyung” 

“Because there’s something here even though I don’t know about the prospect of us” he points between you and him. “I know you feel it too” 

“Hmm” you nod, unable to deny that there is something between the two of you and also unable to form words because you can’t get into details of it. 

“Here’s your half mango and half strawberry shaved ice” you are distracted by the girl who had taken your order. She sets the huge bowl down, one side furiously pink and filled with strawberries while the other a deep yellow and topped with mangoes. 

“You ordered half and half?” you blink at Taehyung. It leaves you feeling a little touched because you find the gesture considerate. You haven’t encountered people in your life who are thoughtful like he is. 

This is when it dawns on you— a simple yet complex realization. You like V and you are attracted to Taehyung. Two days ago you didn’t have time nor the intention of getting involved in the matters of the heart. Yet two days later you are sitting in front of a man that makes you feel like you matter even though you have known him for less than an hour. And here you are also waiting for texts from a guy who is faceless yet he makes you feel like you could float on clouds. 

It’s funny how it’s so easy to catch feelings. One look, one word, a simple action, one kind gesture can kickstart the hurricane of absolutely confusing emotions.

You’re thoroughly fucked aren’t you? 

“I thought if you were willing to forgo your hatred for strawberries, which I still take offense to by the way. I thought the least I could do was order your favorite and try it myself too” he offers you a spoon. 

You let your gaze linger a little bit longer on his sparkling eyes, before you take the spoon from him and dig in. You take a bite and he watches in anticipation as you slowly savour the flavour. 

“The verdict is….” he trails off. 

Your lips protrude in a pout. “Well… it’s not as bad as I previously said” 

“Yes!” he curls his fingers into his a fist and fist bumps the air. “So does it move up the list?” he wags his brows playfully. 

“One spot” you scoop some shaved ice in your mouth. 

“That’s an improvement.” he laughs softly and takes a bite of the mango flavour on his side. 

You watch as he slowly nods. You feel nervous because you want him to like it. He still hasn’t said a word and he’s sitting there with a kind of dazed look on his face. 

“Taehyung?” you wave your hand in front of his face. “Are you okay?” 

He sort of shudders and blinks up at you. “Brain freeze I think” 

You chuckle at the cuteness that is Kim Taehyung. When he’s sitting this close to you in good lighting you really do get to take a good look at him. His features are very soft-- his eyes the softest of them all. His cheeks are full and you just wish you could squeeze them. 

He has a warm personality, one that makes you feel like you are surrounded by the light of a thousand suns. His energy is bright and infectious and he’s insanely confident in himself which is what you can’t get enough of. 

You blink away from your entranced state at being subjected to a very intense look by him. “S-sorry. Uhh.. do you like it?” you try to change the subject feeling slightly embarrassed at having been caught staring. 

His gaze lingers on you for a second more before he’s breaking out into a knowing grin. You know he’s aware you were staring at him. But he just smiles about it, doesn’t try to call you out, and smoothly changes the subject “It’s good. But I am always going to be a strawberries man” 

You giggle at the comment. 

“I promise I am going to make you love strawberries” he quips, reaching over to your side of the bowl and putting a spoonful of strawberries in his mouth. “See, this is what happiness tastes like” his voice is muffled by all the strawberries in his mouth. 

“I think I am starting to like them already” your mouth falters into a grin as you watch the man in front of you filled with a sense of warmth. 

At your mild mannered compliment Taehyung’s grin stretches wide across his face, eyes disappearing into crescents. 

That night after Taehyung drops you home, you are greeted by a wide awake Nina, sitting in her PJ’s violently flipping through the channels. As soon as you enter, she jumps from her spot and runs over to you. 

“Who was the extremely handsome guy who dropped you off?” she tugs your arm and leads you to the couch where she makes you sit down. She takes your purse and haphazardly throws it on the loveseat, fixing her attention to you. She looks at you in anticipation, and you can see the excitement in the way she’s leaning in, and her brows are raised and she’s tapping her foot on the floor impatiently. 

“That’s my boss’s son. Taehyung” you supply

“He’s hot y/n. Like super hot. Can you get me his number please?” 

“What? No!” you shuffle back a little. 

“Why?!” she whines. 

“Because he’s my boss’s son” you avoid looking at her. You can feel her eyes on you, studying you carefully. The silence weighs heavy on your ears and despite the urge to break it and say something, you choose to remain quiet too. 

“You like him” she states matter-of-factly. 

“What the fuck! No” you vigorously shake your head. 

“You can’t lie cousin. You suck at it. You like this guy. I saw you. You were smiling like a whipped idiot when you were saying bye to him. I was right there” she points to the large window by the front door now curtained. “Dare I say, I think you guys were flirting” 

“No we were not” you say firmly

“If it helps, I think he’s into you too” she shrugs

“You think so?” it comes out lightning quick which makes Nina raise her brows curiously. 

“That gets a reaction from you. And you’re telling me you don’t like him. Look at how eager you are to get my opinion on it. You want to talk about this and you know it” she clicks her tongue and pouts at you. 

“Maybe I find him a teeny tiny bit attractive. But that doesn’t mean I like him” you huff, trying your hardest to pretend that the insinuation offends you but she sees right through you. 

“It’s all the same y/n. Go out with him. Ask him” 

“Uhhh… he kinda already asked me to go somewhere with him next weekend and I agreed to it” you mumble the last part quietly and Nina has to lean in to catch what you said.

“Wow. Miss I-don’t-like-him has a date and yet refuses to acknowledge she likes him.” 

“It’s not a date!” you say defensively. “It’s just a friendly hangout. 

“Right” she shakes her head. “Just a friendly hang out” she uses air quotes. “What are you, five?” 

“Ughh. Whatever. Stop being so obsessed with my love life” you lean against the back of the couch, rubbing your temples. 

Your phone buzzes and Nina reaches across into your purse and pulls it out. You watch her brows rise and mouth open as she reads whatever is on the screen. “Uhhh lover boys have messaged you” she holds the phone up for you to see one message from Taehyung and one from V both showing up on your notifications one under the other. 

“Fuck” you mutter as you take it from her. 

“Yeah you are fucked cousin. Two hotties and you. Now that’s what I am talking about” she winks in a suggestive and sleazy manner. 

“Nina!” you chide. “Get your mind out of the gutter. Please” 

“Okay fine” she sighs. “What are you going to do?” 

“I don’t know. I am attracted to them both” you mumble sheepishly hiding your face behind your hands out of embarrassment. 

“Who do you like more though?” 

“They’re both so sweet. V makes my heart flutter and he makes me smile in a way no one does. I feel like I have known him forever. He just gets me in a way no one does. But Taehyung makes me curious. He excites me. He makes me want to be seventeen again”

“That’s tough” she pats you on the shoulder sympathetically. “You know you can’t have both right?” 

For the first time Nina has said something right. It takes you by surprise but you don’t have the energy to dwell on the sudden show of maturity. “I know” you groan. 

“Well I’ll let you sit with this” she offers her usual pursed lip, uninterested smile. “I am going to sleep” she stifles a yawn. 

You roll your eyes. “Yeah great. I’ll just agonize over this while you sleep” 

“Sorry cousin. I need my beauty sleep. Besides I doubt I’ll be of much help” she gets up with a groan and stretches her hands over her head, and drags her feet over the floor as per usual. 

“You’re never any help” you mutter, diving face down onto the couch. 

You grab your phone, the light blinding you as you scrunch your eyes to stop it from hurting. Once you adjust to it you open the message from Taehyung: 

I had a really fun time today. Can’t wait to see you again on Saturday. Good night y/n :) 💤 

You scroll the notification banner down and click on V’s message. 

Icedtea: I am sorry we weren’t able to talk a whole lot. I got busy with the friend I told you about. I promise we’ll catch up tomorrow. Good night 😴 

You turn on your back, staring blankly at the ceiling. There isn’t going to be any sleep tonight. 

Yeah you’re thoroughly fucked. 

Absolutely. Utterly. Completely. Screwed. 

On Friday morning Mrs. K calls you early to tell you that you don’t need to go into work. She leaves a long winded voice message about how Taehyung told her about taking you out on Saturday and she doesn’t want you to be tired for the day. So she just wants you to rest up and is giving you the day off. 

That comes as a respite because a day off is exactly what you need. You have too much on your mind between V and Taehyung. Feelings are exhausting in general. But when you’re like a pendulum swinging from one boy to the other it’s ten times more excruciating to deal with. 

You lounge around the whole day, not wanting to do anything because you know that Saturday is coming soon. The anxiety in itself is enough to render you useless for the rest of the day. It’s worse since Nina isn’t home. If she were there she would have already dragged you out someplace against your will and forced you to eat some kind of eclectic food you probably wouldn’t even want in the first place. 

That’s exactly what you need— a huge distraction from your even bigger problem of having fallen two guys at the same time. People have a hard enough time dealing with one, but your destiny has blessed you with dealing with emotions for two men who you feel thoroughly incapable of choosing between. 

As if on cue your phone chimes and you pick it up lazily already having an inkling as to who it will be. 

Icedtea:  Hey! what are you upto?

“Wallowing in my misery” you grumble as you stare at the message but begin typing the exact opposite. 

Bananamilk: I am doing...amazing! 

An instant reply arrives bringing with a pang of nervousness in your chest. 

Icedtea: No one says they’re doing amazing unless they are going through something horrible. What are you going through?

Your breath gets stuck in your throat, your thoughts on pause as you read the message. He can’t see you, he doesn’t even know you all that well. For fucks sake he’s texting you. 

Bananamilk: that’s creepy V. But spot on. I am going through something

Icedtea: Wanna talk about it? 

“Not with you because you’re part of the reason I feel this way” you sigh as you speak to the screen like he can hear you or see you through it. 

Bananamilk: I’ll be alright. I’ll survive 😊

Icedtea: Alright. But you know if you want to talk about it I am just a text away. 

Bananamilk: Yes I know :) Thank you. Onto happier subjects. How did your day with your friend go? 

Icedtea: It was a lot of fun. I am seeing her again soon. How was yours with your friend? 

Bananamilk: I had fun too. But I am so tired

Icedtea: I know what will help. Give me a sec 

The three ellipses show that he’s typing so you patiently wait. Not too patiently though because as you cross the five second mark the suspense starts to get the best of you and you sit up in your bed tapping your fingers impatiently against the back of the phone. 

Icedtea has shared a link. 

You open it to find a link to Spotify and clicking the link transports you to the music app. 

A notification banner pops up on your screen with the following message: 

Icedtea: I made that playlist for you. 

Giddily you click on it to reply. 

Bananamilk: you made a playlist for me? 

Icedtea: Yeah. I was listening to music and then I remembered you told me you like Tchaikovsky so I made it for you with all his pieces. I hope it helps you get through whatever you’re going through 

Bananamilk: Oh my god I love you V ❤️

You smile as you read the message and then it melts into panic.

“Fuck” your eyes widen as the words glare back at you blindingly  bright. It’s as if you acquire tunnel vision and all you can fixate on is ‘I love you V’. “Shit. Fuck.” the sense of urgency gets the best of you as you jump out of your bed and proceed to scream and yell until you’ve almost pulled your hair out. 

“I heard yelling” Nina pops her head into your room. 

“That was me” you mumble . “Wait I thought you weren’t home” 

“I’ve been in my room and I am stealthy like a vampire so you didn’t know I was home. What happened?” she approaches you and sits down next to you on the floor. 

“I told V I love him” you groan

With a lack of response  you are prompted to focus on her only to find her looking at you with a raised brow. 

“What?” you snap

“That fast huh. I thought you would hold out until he’s on the verge of ending it because your righteousness gets in the way of it” 

“It was a fucking mistake” you grab one of her hands and thrust your phone into her palm. 

She looks over the messages and then hands you your phone which you slide away against the floor because you can’t even look at it. “He made you a playlist and you told him you love him?” she snorts in a judgemental way. 

“No one has ever made me a playlist okay!? you say defensively and shoot her a disapproving look. 

“Just tell him it’s because you feel thankful or whatever emotional shit you can come up with,” she replies with a casual tone, not as freaked out as you. But then again she’s always calm about everything. 

“I would but he hasn’t said anything” you point to the phone. 

“Relax. The world hasn’t ended cousin” 

“You’re not helping Nina!” you snap at her, unintentionally taking your frustration out on her. 

Your phone buzzes and you crawl across the floor, and reach for it. 

Icedtea: It’s not a problem . Anytime 💕

You immediately sit on your knees and scoot back until you’re sitting next to Nina. 

“I don’t know what this means” you hold the phone out to her. 

She scoffs. “I thought I wasn’t of any help,” she says bitterly. 

“This isn’t the time to be vengeful, Nina” you remind her gently. 

She snatches the phone so she can take a lot at it. “He sent a heart.  Coming from a guy that’s as good as ‘I love you too’” she lazily holds your phone to you. 

You take it from her. “So what should I say” you bite your lip.

“Just tell him you’re thankful for the playlist and move on” 

“Easier said than done” you turn focus back to the device in your hand and begin furiously typing while Nina quietly slips away but you don’t have time to address that. 

Bananamilk: sorry I got a little excited because no one has ever made a playlist for me before. Thank you very much V. I really appreciate it and I do feel better because of it. 

Icedtea: I am glad to hear that. Happy I could be of some help. 

It’s help that’s going to push you further into the rabbit hole of your feelings for him and complicate things even more. How can you like two guys without feeling like you’re not some cheater bitch? It’s not like you are in a relationship with either of them. However, feeling things for V when you’re talking to him and then feeling things when you’re with Taehyung makes you feel guilty and apologetic as fuck. 

You quickly make an excuse to get out of talking to V because you can’t get your mind out of this spiral you are falling into. There is only one thing to do. So you force yourself to get up and trudge out of your room and into the land of the living. 

“Hey” you address your cousin who is in the kitchen surely fixing up food. 

“Yes” she quips, still sounding a little mad because she’s got that bite to her tone. 

“I am sorry for how I reacted earlier. I was panicking and you were next to me and I am sorry I put it on you” 

She looks over her shoulder at you. “No harm done cousin. But you look fucked” 

“I suppose what I am feeling shows on my face huh” 

“You don’t have to be screwed over just because you like two guys at the same time. It’s a perfectly normal thing. Eventually you will gravitate towards one more than the other. Until then just go with the flow of things and don’t over analyze shit” 

You let her words sink in. They actually make sense, and this is the second time in the past few days she’s given you the right advice. “You need help?” you enter the kitchen further and stop next to her offering to help as a show of your gratitude.

“It’s just ramen” she shrugs. “You want some?” she asks as she licks the sauce off her finger. 

You nod. “Thanks Nina. For everything” you rest your head on her shoulder. 

“I know what will cheer you up” she says and then ushers you out of the kitchen. “Go sit down, grab a blanket put on netflix and we’ll watch the Witcher and then Man of Steel. There’s nothing a little Henry Cavill marathon can’t fix” 

You do as she says and grab a blanket out of the closet and cozy up on the sofa. You turn on the TV and put on netflix, immediately searching for the Witcher. The moment Henry Cavill’s devilishly handsome face pops up on the screen you start feeling better. You put on the first episode of the Witcher, immediately transfixed Henry’s beauty. Just what was God doing when she made him? How can someone look that good? 

With these thoughts swirling in your head, you immerse yourself further into the fantasy world that captures your full attention. So much so that you don’t notice Nina sitting next to you and obnoxiously chewing on the noodles. 

You end up spending the rest of the day cuddled on the couch with her watching the Witcher and every Henry Cavill movie Netflix has in its catalogue. For a while you forget your troubles and just enjoy being a normal human being except you have an obsession with one Henry Cavill. 

At 11 am sharp on Saturday a honk resounds through the air sending you into a state of panic. 

“He’s here!” Nina yells as you stumble out of your room and run down the stairs. “Holy fuck he’s so hot” she says dreamily as she spies on him through the curtains of the window next to the front door. 

“Stop ogling at him and help me find my fucking shoes” you say in a hurry as you grab your tiny bag and sling it across your body. 

“They are by the door” she says without taking her eyes off Taehyung. 

You put on your white shoes and dash out of the door, not even saying bye to your cousin. But you doubt she cares. 

Outside Kim Taehyung is leaning against his car, the bright sun reflecting off his sun kissed skin. The sound of your shoes grating against the gravel alerts him and he looks up to greet you with a smile. 

“You look good” the compliment falls smoothly through his lips and settles deep inside your heart. He pushes away from the car and holds out his arms for a hug. You cave in and wrap your arms around his much larger frame. His whole body envelops yours, a fact that leaves you feeling delighted as you bask in Kim Taehyung’s warmth. He squeezes once more before he lets go and you both pull away. 

“You look good yourself” your lips split in a wide smile as you take in his form. He’s wearing a white mock neck, tucked into black jeans the rims of which are folded on top of his black doc martens. The whole look is tied in together with a blue denim jacket. The boyfriend vibes he’s serving are real and you can’t help but feel like his girlfriend, even though you’re not. 

You catch yourself in time because before that train of thought can catch speed and run out of your control, you nip it. “So where are we going?” 

“It’s a surprise” he opens the door for you like the gentleman he is. 

“I am never getting used to this” you look at him as you pass him and sit in. 

“Well get used to it because I am going to be doing this a lot” he says before he shuts the door softly and runs around quickly and straps himself into the driver’s seat. 

“So you’re absolutely not going to tell me where we’re going?” you ask as he starts the ignition and begins to back out of the driveway. 

“Nope” he shakes his head as he focuses on reversing, looking around in all directions.

Once you’re on the road, he reaches into the back seat and hauls up a bag which he holds out to you. 

“What’s in here?” you ask, taking the white plastic bag from him. 

“Snacks” he glances at you. “It’ll take us about two hours to get there. I thought you might get hungry” 

“Are you taking me to some isolated place to kill me?” you tease, a grin making its way onto your face as you look at him. 

He keeps his focus ahead. “Did we not determine that I am not a psycho?” 

“No. You said you listen to classical music and that’s most definitely a sign you’re a serial killer” you remind him, tearing your gaze away to rummage through the bag sitting in your lap. 

“You are a pepper spray carrier. I wouldn’t worry about it” he replies, a soft chuckle falling through his mouth. 

“Wow you got a lot of stuff” you look through the bag. 

“I got a whole row of stuff from the convenience store” he shrugs as if that is some common occurrence. 

“Did you just say a whole row?” you gawk at him stupidly, blinking in disbelief. 

“Yeah” he says casually. He glimpses at you for a second and chuckles at your reaction. “I didn’t know what you liked so I got whatever I could” 

“How thoughtful” you comment. 

“Thank you. I should have warned you that we might have to get down and dirty, where we’re going” 

“Oh now you have to tell me Kim Taehyung” you turn to him. 

“I can’t. It’s a surprise” he deflects.

You groan which makes him laugh silently,  his shoulders shaking as teeth peeking from behind his lips. “I take it you’re not a fan of surprises?” 

“No. Not at all” you shake your head. “I was wondering…” you trail off keeping your gaze affixed on his profile. 

He turns to you quickly. “What were you wondering?” 

“That day you were very smooth when you asked me to come with you. So, I was just wondering if this is a date” 

“Do you want it to be a date?” he takes a peek at you. 

“Did you intend for it to be a date?” you counter, 

He huffs a soft laugh through his nose and bites his lip. “You caught me y/n” 

You don’t know where this boldness is coming from. But you’re taking Nina’s advice to heart and letting things play out organically instead of trying to control them. “So then, should I assume you like me?” 

He’s silent as he chews on his lower lip like he really has to think about it. Usually it's an automatic response but the fact that he’s taking time makes you think there is something there, just under the surface that’s bothering him. The longer he takes the worse the anxiety gets “Yes” the word leaves a whisper through his mouth. “I like you” 

You’re silent. He’s silent. You can feel the weight, weighing heavy on your shoulders. 

“Since I have made the admission. I have to ask” he pauses. “Should I take it you like me too since you decided to come with me?” 

He’s smooth. He’s very good at using words.

 You like him. But it’s hard to give a quick response because you also like V. So admitting your attraction to Taehyung seems like you’re playing V even though it’s not your intention. 

“Yeah” you reply quietly remembering that Nina told you not to ‘overanalyze shit” 

Taehyung steals a glance at your face, then his eyes travel to your hand that’s resting on your lap. He reaches over and extends his hand and quietly laces his fingers into yours. You succumb to his touch and curl your fingers over the back of his hand, a gesture that makes him look at you with a knowing smile-- one that speaks volumes about his feelings for you. You look from your now less lonely hand to him and a small smile curves on your lips

For the rest of the ride neither of you say a word, and sit quietly hand in hand basking in this newfound feeling. 

“Y/n”

You feel a shake 

“Y/n” 

Someone is definitely saying your name. But who? 

“Y/n” comes the voice again and you jolt awake 

“What?” you say slightly panicked as you look to your left, to find Taehyung. Oh right. You’re going somewhere with him. 

“We’re here” he says. 

You blink away the sleep that weighs heavy in your eyes. “Where is here?” 

“ My grandparents strawberry farm in Sonoma” 

And then sleep vanishes. “What!?” you are wide awake as soon you comprehend his words and unconsciously squeeze his hand. 

He chuckles. “I love it when you get all surprised. It’s all very adorable” he says fondly, eyes sparkling, and smile teetering at the edge of his lips. “It’s also adorable that you fell asleep holding onto my hand” 

You look down and find your hand still locked securely into his. 

“As much as I love holding your hand, it feels kind of numb” he comments, looking at you with pursed lips. 

It takes a second for you to understand what he means as you blink rapidly. Clearly your brain is still a little foggy from the nap. “Oh shit. Yeah. Sorry” you pull your fingers out from his, and he uses his now free hand to unbuckle his seat belt

“Wait” he says and steps out of the car. He comes to your side and opens the door for you and holds out his hand. He really did mean it when he said you should get used to it. A cool draft of air hits you as soon as the door opens and you welcome the relief because your body feels hot all over. 

“Why didn't you tell me you’re bringing me here?” you ask as you place your hand in his and with a gentle pull he manages to help you. He closes the door but keeps a hold on your hand, sliding his palm in yours. 

“If I told you it wouldn’t be a surprise” you walk hand in hand. 

“True. But your grandparents farm? Isn’t it a little weird? I mean I am not even your girlfriend which is who you usually bring to places like this” 

“As far as they know, you are. ” he shrugs. 

“I am?

“Yes you are. I told them you are . You are my girlfriend as far as anyone in this little town is concerned ” he squeezes your hand and swings your interlocked hands. 

“Wow. I just got demoted from wife to girlfriend. Are you cheating on me Kim Taehyung?” you laugh lightly, but it falters when you realize you shouldn’t use the word ‘cheating’ so lightly given your predicament between Taehyung and V. 

He however doesn’t respond in the same way. If anything the smile and liveliness of his face morphs into a solemn expression as his lips pull into a straight line. He lowers his head, blinking profusely. He looks slightly uncomfortable, a vacant look appearing in his eyes and his hold on your hand slackens which makes your heart sink. He doesn’t let go but clearly something has changed. 

“Are you alright?” you question 

A look of realization crosses his face and the distant look in his eyes disappears replaced by the usual amount of warmth you are used to. “Yeah” he squeezes your hand. “Just thinking about something. Sorry” 

“It’s okay” you reassure him. 

You let a few seconds of silence pass before you speak. “So what exactly are we doing here?” 

“Picking strawberries” he smiles from ear to ear clearly excited at the prospect of getting to eat strawberries to his heart's content. “I promised I would get you to love strawberries and here we are” 

“You have a very weird obsession with this particular fruit” 

“Hey don’t judge” he pouts. “Girlfriend’s aren’t supposed to be judgemental” 

“But” you pause. “I am not really your girlfriend” 

“Today you are” he grins and motions to your hands which are still held together. 

It turns out Taehyung was right when he said you would have to get down and dirty. There’s soil marks over your white shoes, and you have been kneeling down trying to pick out as many strawberries as possible because Taehyung decided that an impromptu competition would be a good way to keep things interesting. His grandparents being the sweet people they are let you two be and left to work on ploughing the fields somewhere else. 

You don't know how you got roped into it but you know that you could never say no to Taehyung. If he told you to jump from a building asking you to trust him, you would do so. If he asked you the one thing you absolutely hated: get on an airplane and fly to an unknown destination you wouldn’t even hesitate for a second. You have known him for only a week but you’ve learned enough to be able to put your faith in him. But it feels like you’ve known him forever too. Like you know him from somewhere else but you just can’t remember. 

Too distracted by your thoughts you don’t notice Taehyung taking strawberries out of your basket. It’s only after he’s taken out a handful that you realize it. “Hey! That’s cheating” you have to yell because he’s already on the run. “Kim Taehyung you are dead” you chase after him in the fields which is definitely not a good idea for several reasons. One, the sun is high up in the sky and getting in your eyes so you can’t see clearly where you are going. Second, you’re getting dirt all over your shoes and the hems of your jeans which are the best pair you own. Third Taehyung is taller than you and hence his strides are longer so you’ll never be able to catch him. Fourth, not having any food in you is the worst time to run so you start feeling a little dizzy. 

You stop to take a breather and Taehyung, noticing a stoppage in your shouts, turns around to find you bent over. He runs to you quickly. 

“Are you okay?” he sets down the basket of strawberries and strokes your back. 

“Yeah. I just need food” you pant heavily and straighten up.

“Food you say” Taehyung raises his eyebrows suggestively. “I have just the perfect thing” 

“You are the worst fake boyfriend ever” you gripe as you walk hand in hand with him to the convenience store which happens to be four blocks away. On an empty stomach and running on nothing but fumes four blocks easily seems like forty. 

“You feel that way now. But just you wait. I’ll make you something so amazing you’ll kiss me for it” he says confidently. 

“Kiss you? Aren’t we getting ahead of ourselves” you quip, trying to slow down the pace of where he’s headed. If this were a normal situation you wouldn’t worry. But you have to think about V too. Yes you want things to happen organically but at the same time you need to uphold yourself to your personal standards for morality. And it won’t be right to kiss Taehyung when you feel something for someone else out there too. 

“You’re right” he shakes his head. “Correction. I’ll make you something so amazing you will love me for it” 

“Don’t get all cocky Kim” you reply with a grin. 

The convenience store comes into site and you both speed up as you practically run towards it. You enter the small store and to your right standing behind a cash register is an older man writing something in a notebook. 

 Taehyung greets the man. “Hello Mr. Jung” 

He looks up and a look of recognition crosses his face “Oh Taehyung! It’s nice to see you after so long” 

“It’s very nice to see you too” Taehyung smiles at the older man. 

Mr. Jung looks at you and offers a polite nod, and you reply with a small ‘hello’. 

“Sorry Mr. Jung. I forgot. This is my girlfriend y/n” Taehyung looks at Mr. Jung, a proud smile resting on his lips. 

The way he says ’girlfriend’ makes you want to rip your insides out and stop feeling because it’s too overwhelming. Despite your admittance that you like each other, it’s not like you’ve decided to do anything about it. So technically he’s not your boyfriend and you aren’t his girlfriend and you have to keep reminding yourself that this all for show. 

“Hello y/n. Pleasure to meet you” Mr. Jung says.

“Nice to meet you too Mr. Jung” you respond 

“Hey if he bothers you, you come to me. I will set him straight” Mr. Jung laughs. 

“He bothers me a lot” you complain, pouting. 

“Hey!” Taehyung’s jaw drops in disbelief. “You’re not supposed to tattle on me” 

“You better treat her nice, boy” Mr Jung says in a stern but playful tone. 

“Of course I will! She deserves to be treated like a queen even though she rats me out” this time Taehyung’s lips jut out in a pout. “That reminds me. I am looking for bread and that special sweet cream Mrs. Jung makes” 

“Ah!” Mr Jung’s expression changes to that of realization as soon as Taehyung mentions sweet cream. “The bread should in the last aisle and the sweet cream should be in the refrigerator at the back”

“Thanks Mr. Jung” Taehyung says and walks towards the aisle where he grabs a loaf of bread and tucks it under his arm because he’s still holding your hand and only has his other hand free. 

“Do you maybe want to let go so that we can comfortably shop?” you suggest noticing him having a hard time holding the bread without squashing it to a mush. 

He shakes his head. “No thank you. I like holding your hand” he says firmly. 

You give up quickly, realizing that he won't let go. So you shop around like that-- hand in hand, and a loaf of bread tucked under Taehyung’s arm. From far away you would look like a couple, an awareness which makes your face overcome with a slight crimson flush. 

“Hey do you mind grabbing the sweet cream” Taehyung points to the stacked white, unlabeled containers in the fridge. 

You manage to open the door, but have to hold it open with your foot because your other hand is occupied by Taehyungs. It’s a minor inconvenience which you don't mind. You grab the container and lift your foot against the door and it shuts. “Why are we buying bread and cream?” 

“It’s a secret” he winks 

“You and your surprises” you shake your head at him. 

“I promise you, you will love it” he leads out of the back and to the front where Mr. Jung is. 

Taehyung places the bread and you put the sweet cream on the counter. For the first time he let’s go of your hand to take out his wallet from his back pocket. 

“Don’t worry about Taehyung. This one is on me” Mr Jung smiles at both of you when he sees Taehyung’s wallet.

“Are you sure?” you quip 

“Yeah Yeah” he waves your concern off. “I have known the Kim’s for the better part of forty years. We’re like a family” he takes out a brown paper bag and places both the bread and sweet cream in there and hands you the bag. 

“Thank you Mr. Jung” Taehyung grins up at the older man and nods as both of you leave. Once you are out of the store, Taehyung takes the bag from you and reaches down to grab your hand in his, interlinking your fingers once again. 

Taehyung’s grandparents' farmhouse is ginormous. When you arrived he took you straight to the fields so you didn’t have time to come to the house. The moment it comes in sight you are awestruck at the grandiosity of it and you can’t close your mouth. You hear Taehyung chuckle beside you, no doubt at your reaction but you don’t acknowledge him because you just can't seem to tear your gaze away. 

“This was built in the early 1900’s. Been in the family for a few generations now” Taehyung comments. 

“Wow” you blink rapidly, trying to process the beauty of the house in front of you. 

“We had to renovate it a few years ago because there were  alot of structural issues and mold and whatnot. So it looks slightly different from the outside. But the inside is pretty much the same” 

“You must have spent a lot of time here when you were younger” you finally manage to look away, having had your fill of beauty. 

He nods. “I did. I came here every summer instead of staying in LA. I would spend all my time in the farms with my grandfather, helping him pick strawberries, planting new bushes after the harvest was done, cleaning up around the house and greasing the equipment.”

“Who knew you made an excellent farm boy” you grin at him teasingly, just imagining a kiddie version of the man next to you with his grubby hands helping his grandpa. 

“I am also an excellent chef, thank you very much” 

“We’ll see Mr. Kim” you allude back to your first day with him when you were mistaken for husband and wife.

“You will Mrs. Kim” he jokes and both of you end up laughing. 

Taehyung guides you inside the house holding you hand, through one hallway and then another and he turns again. You forget the way you came in because it’s so big inside. You don’t even have the time to appreciate the architecture (which is very reminiscent of the early 1900’s with crafty woodwork) because Taehyung is beelining straight to the kitchen. 

He sets the paper bag down on the counter. 

“This kitchen is the size of a small condo” you comment, doing a full 360 as you take in everything around you. . The cupboards are all shiny dark oakwood, and the counters are pure white marble. You run a finger on them and it’s the softest marble you have ever touched. His family is definitely loaded. Rich doesn’t even begin to define it.

“My grandma always wanted a huge kitchen. So during the renovations they ended up extending the kitchen and they added the huge cutting board on the countertop because my grandma hates having to wash and clean cutting boards” Taehyung says as he’s looking through the twenty different cupboards for something. 

“What are you going to make?” you ask entering further. 

“It’s something my grandpa used to make when I was younger. I haven’t had it in a very long time. I wanted to share it with you” Taehyung finds plates in one of the cabinets and brings them over to the counter, and sets them aside. 

“That’s sweet of you Taehyung” you reply as you lean your back against the counter. 

“It’s only because I like you” he chuckles. Before you can respond, he’s already on another subject. He makes it seem like such a casual thing. But then again he’s always been up front with you. “Y/n can you bring those strawberries over please?” he points to a huge mound of strawberries piled into a strainer next to the sink. 

You grab it  and bring it over to him. You stop next to him and steal a strawberry for yourself. “Wow these are good” your muffled voice comes out as you savour the sweet flavour. 

“These are the best strawberries you will ever have” Taehyung comments turning to you. He reaches up with his hand and wipes away the juice from the corner of your mouth. 

“Thanks” you mutter. Heat rises in your cheeks once more, and your hands begin to sweat a little from nervousness.

Taehyung takes out the bread and places the loaf on the large built-in cutting board on top of the kitchen counter. “With crust or without crust” he asks. 

“Without please” you say 

“I would have been horrified had you said you want the crust” 

“No one likes the crust. It’s an atrocity” 

“Exactly” Taehyung stacks bread pieces together and in one swoop motion cuts the crusts on one side and the rotates to cut the other side. Once all the disgusting brown stuff is off from the good white stuff, he slides the colander filled with strawberries over to himself. He starts drying them with a cloth and placing them on the cutting board. 

“Where are your grandparents?” you ask suddenly realizing that it's only you two and no one else is around. 

He continues to dry the strawberries as he speaks. “It’s Saturday so they’re probably gone to Mr. Lee’s house at this time. He’s my grandpa’s friend and their farmhouse is just a few blocks down. Everyone in this neighbourhood gathers together and meets at Mr. Lee’s house on the weekends and they play cards and things like that. It’s been like that since I was thirteen” a fond smile appears on his lips as he reminisces about the past. 

“That’s sweet.” 

“All the people in this neighbourhood are my grandparents' age so they all have similar interests” he explains as he places the dried strawberries on the cutting board. 

“Makes sense” you nod. “Do you want some help?” you ask because you feel bad. 

Taehyung looks up at you “Are you good at cutting strawberries?” he asks 

“I can do a good enough job” you reply with a shrug. 

“Grab a knife assistant” he grins and then shifts his focus to cutting the strawberries he had dried. 

You pull a knife out the knife stand next to you and stand quietly next to Taehyung cutting his precious strawberries. It’s silent, save for the sounds of the knives hitting the cutting board. Once he thinks you have enough slices he starts assembling his secret dish. 

He splits the slices of bread in half and places some in front of you. 

“All we’re going to do is spread the cream and place the strawberries and make a sandwich” 

“A strawberries and cream sandwich?” you question

“Not just your usual strawberries and cream sandwich. I’m gonna shallow fry it” he wags his brows, feeling proud of himself. 

“Can't say I’ve ever had that” 

“Get ready for the best-est sandwich ever. It tastes heavenly” he steps behind you and reaches over to place a pan on the stove. The close proximity makes your heart skip a beat. 

You both begin assembling your sandwiches working in silence. The domestic vibes really give you a hard time with concentration because all you can think about is how homely this feels. 

“This reminds me of my grandma and grandpa cooking together when I was younger” he takes the words right out of your mouth because this reminds you of your parents when you were younger.

“Oh the domesticity of it all” you laugh. 

“I like it” Taehyung says fondly, looking at you. 

 You feel his eyes on you and look up at him with a grin. “It’s growing on me too”

Taehyung wasn’t lying when he said it tastes heavenly because it does. Shallow frying the bread just makes it taste a hundred times better than it would have. After you finish devouring the sandwiches Taehyung realizes how late it is and decides that he should get you home. 

“It’s already 8 pm. I didn’t even realize we’d been here that long” 

“Me neither” you reply, finally realizing how much fun you were having with him. 

“Let me just check how long it would take to drive back because we have to take a different highway to get out of Sonoma” he pulls out his phone. You’re silent while he checks how to get home and you decide to look around your surroundings. The huge garden in the back of the property is something you were anticipating, but you just didn’t realize how big it would be. 

Sitting under the fairy lights on the porch definitely does something to make the ambiance feel slightly romantic. 

“Shit. There’s been a major accident on the highway out of the county” he looks at you. 

“So what do we do now?” you question, feeling slightly panicked because you don’t feel comfortable leaving Nina alone in the house for the night.

He shrugs. “I am not sure how long it will take them to clear it up” 

“Damn. It’s already eight and even if it’s done in the next hour or so it’ll be too late to drive out” 

“Right. But it seems like it’s going to take way longer than that because it’s two trailers and a few cars that crashed into each other” he holds his phone out to you. 

Going by the picture posted in the tabloid it does seem like it’s a very major accident. You silently hope everyone involved is okay. You hand him his phone back.

“I guess we have to stay over for the night. Is that okay with you?” he questions, a concerned frown plastered on his forehead. 

“It should be okay. I just have to call my cousin and make sure she will be alright for the night” 

“Sure” he replies and busies himself in looking around while you dial Nina

It rings and rings and rings and just when you’re about to hang up her voice comes through. “Yes asshole. How can I be of service to you” 

“Hello spawn of the Devil” you say into the phone, forgetting that Taehyung is sitting only 1 meter away. He stops looking around as he catches your words, shooting you a confused look. You respond with an apologetic smile.

“I thought you were with your boyfriend” Nina says in her usual teasing tone. 

It gets to you. “He’s not my boyf--” you say a little too loudly and glance at Taehyung  to find him looking at you with raised eyebrows.  You mouth a quick ‘sorry’ to him. “Anyway. I wanted to tell you that I won’t be home tonight and--” 

“Yes girl get it!” she yells so loud you’re sure that against the silence of the night Taehyung heard that. You wince when you notice he’s stifling his laughter. He heard it for sure. 

Idiot Nina.

“We can’t leave because there’s been an accident on the highway out of the county and that’s why I have to stay the night. Are you going to be okay?” 

“Yeah of course! Don’t worry about me. Just take this opportunity alright? Don’t let it go to waste. Who knows when you’ll get it. Make sweet sweet love to him” her voice is so loud you want to throw your phone away and jump into that pool nearby and drown in it. An aching burn alights your cheeks on fire.

Taehyung chuckles, clearly having heard Nina. 

“Shut up, idiot. Call me if anything happens. Not that anyone would try anything with you” you say into the phone, your objective of making sure she’ll be okay completed. You hang up not giving her a chance to speak and pass an apologetic look to Taehyung. “I am sorry if you heard all that” 

“I did” he nods, trying to stifle his laughter once more. “Your cousin sure is a character” he comments. 

“You’re not the first person to say that. She’s the child of the Devil” you shake your head. 

“So she’ll be okay?” he asks.

“Yeah. If anything our neighbours should be scared I am not there to keep her in check” 

He laughs. “Why do you call her the spawn of the devil? Just out of curiosity” 

You sigh. “You’ve already heard a snippet of the kinds of things that come out of her mouth. But she’s totally boy crazy and she always says the wrong things at the wrong time like she just did a few minutes ago. She always puts me in awkward situations like right now which is why I am sure she was born to make my life hell. Hence she is the spawn of the devil” 

“You’re cute y/n” Taehyung chuckles with a shake of his head 

“Thank you I guess” you take the compliment. “So what should we do now?” you quickly change the subject, not wanting to further dwell on Nina because if you do you’ll just keep thinking about what she said. 

“Fancy a swim?” he asks, turning to look at the mirage of blue into the distance. 

“Uhhh I can’t swim” you admit sheepishly, looking away. 

Taehyung’s mouth drops open. “What?” 

“Not everyone can swim okay?” you look at him and say defensively

He stands up and holds his hand out for you. You look at him and then his hand and shake your head. 

“Come on y/n. Be brave” 

“I am a coward. Just let me be a coward please” you look at him pleadingly. 

“I’ll go with you. I won’t let anything happen to you. Trust me” 

You gulp hard and with a deep sigh place your hand in his as he leads you out to the pool. You stand at the edge while Taehyung without a warning jumps in, splashing you with water too. “You’re wet already now. Come on!” he says emerging from the water and smoothing his hair back, droplets dripping down his face and onto his chest. His shirt clings to his chest and arms, showing every contour of his body perfectly. 

“I am not even wearing proper swimming clothes” you try the excuse hoping it’ll get you off the hook. 

“I just jumped in wearing these jeans and my precious mock neck shirt. Be spontaneous y/n” he says, splashing water on you. 

Your hands come up to protect your face from the attack. “I am sort of scared” you mumble, slightly embarrassed at the admittance. 

“Do you trust me?” Taehyung asks as he takes a few steps forward until the water level lowers to his waist. He holds out his arms in the air as if to catch you. 

“I do” you mumble and step close to the edge of the pool while Taehyung moves forward and reaches for your hands. You place your hands in his and crouch down to the floor with his help and set one foot over the edge into the water and then the other. 

“Place your hands on my shoulder and jump in. I promise I won’t let anything happen to you” his voice is soft and tender, which helps calm you down slightly. 

You place your hands on his shoulder and he wraps his arms around your waist as you slide off the edge and into the water. A squeal passes your lips. With eyes shut tight, and nails digging into his shoulders you cling onto him for dear life. 

“I got you” his warm voice comes out in reassurance.He holds you close to him, not leaving a single inch of space between your bodies. 

You open your eyes and find yourself practically glued against him. His face is so close to yours, you can still smell the sweet strawberries on his breath. “I am scared” you whisper. 

“Just keep your eyes on me” he comments as he begins to set you lower in the water. You wrap your arms around his shoulders as you feel your feet almost touching the floor of the pool. You’re hanging onto him like a koala bear and he doesn’t seem to mind it. 

You make the mistake of looking down once and immediately hide your face in his chest. 

His arm tightens around you in a comforting way. “It’s alright. I am here” he mumbles as he places a soft kiss on the top of your head. “ Just hold onto me okay?” 

He starts walking backwards as you hold onto him and slowly but surely the water level rises along with panic. He stops smack dab in the middle of the pool. 

“Y/n look at me” he says softly, and you find the courage deep down to stare into those heartbreakingly beautiful brown eyes of his. “You’re fine. You can touch the floor of the pool” he unwraps your arms from his shoulders and steps back, but he still holds onto you. 

“Taehyung” you say warningly. 

“I am holding on. See” he looks down and you follow his gaze to find his hands wrapped securely around your forearms. 

“You promise you won’t let go?” your voice trembles. 

“I promise” he looks straight in your eyes. 

So you trust him and set your feet down completely this time even though the water almost swallows you. 

“See? You’re fine” he encourages you. “I am gonna swim back now” 

“Taehyung no!” 

He chuckles. “Relax y/n. I am still going to hold onto you. I am not going to let go of you. I swear” 

His words, the sincerity in them manages to put you at ease for the moment. He holds onto you and starts doing a backstroke dragging you along with him in the water. At first you’re terrified as your feet are lifted off the ground and the water weighs heavy on your body. But then after a while you become used to the weightlessness. Taehyung keeps his promise and holds onto your arm as you both swim around. 

“It’s fun right?” he looks at you with a smile and you chuckle nervously unable to form words because they are stuck to the back of your throat due to fear. 

So you circle around the pool holding onto him once you get comfortable. You manage to swim towards the shallow end of the pool where the water sits comfortably below your waist, providing you with a sense of security. Taehyung meanwhile stays in the deep end, eyes glued to you. 

“Scaredy cat” he teases with a grin as water runs down his face. His clothes are completely soaked. 

“You’ll get sick like that” you shout across the pool which makes him chuckle. 

He shakes his head and swims towards you, head appearing and disappearing and then he emerges out of the water right in front of you. He runs a hand across his face to  wipe away the water. A lock of his hair falls onto his forehead and absentmindedly you smooth it back. 

He grins at the gesture and sniffles.“Do you wanna sit up?” he asks, noticing how you’re shivering. 

“Yeah” you mumble and he easily picks you up by the waist and sets you down on the edge of the pool while your feet dangle in the water. 

He places his palms on the edge of the pool and hauls himself up, spinning midway to sit back down next to you. His arm touches yours, sending shivers through your whole body and you shudder. 

Taehyung wraps his arm around you and pulls you into himself as your head hits his shoulder “I saw it on Discovery. Body heat is the best way to warm yourself up” he offers an explanation, but you don’t need it because you don’t mind being this close to him at all. 

He gently strokes your arm, trying to warm you up and you snuggle closer to him and  wrap your arm around his torso. 

“I don’t have a change of clothes” you mention pensively. 

“I have some clothes here just in case. You can wear those” he offers kindly. 

You nod against his shoulder, too scared to speak for the fear of your teeth chattering as a cold draft blows towards you. Once the onset of shivers subsides you speak. “Thank you” 

He continues to rub your arm, and you feel the goosebumps abating. “You’re welcome” 

With his comment silence falls as both of you stare at the blue water in front of you too lost in your thoughts to think of anything else. With other people silence seems to pose a problem, but with him it's comfortable-- a sign that you feel at ease with him. 

“What are you thinking about?” he asks quietly

“Nothing in particular. What are you thinking about?” you ask in return and feel him resting his cheek on top of your head. 

“About how this feels right. You and I, just sitting like this” 

“It does, doesn’t it?” you say, feeling a pang of guilt rise out of your stomach because you feel like you’re deceiving him. Being with him and not speaking with V for so long, doesn’t do anything to lessen your feelings for V. You thought if you spent time with him, it would provide you with some clarity about who you like more. You had hoped it would help you in some way to decide who you lean towards but the thing is you’re back to square one. You definitely feel closer to Taehyung now than you did the first day you met him, but feeling closer to Taehyung doesn’t make you feel distant from V. 

He doesn’t respond to your comment which you don’t mind because sometimes silence speaks louder than words and right now you don’t need any words to understand what’s going on. 

“Do you want to go inside? I don’t want you getting sick” he asks, lifting his head from yours and looking down at you.

You unwrap your arm from his abdomen and pull your head away from his shoulder. “Yeah let’s go” you reply and he quickly gets up, holding out both his hands for you to take. You’ve become so used to his caring and gentle ways that when you slide your hands in his, it feels exactly right. He helps you up and wraps one of his hands in yours. 

He takes you to the drying area, which is basically just a room filled with towels and bathrobes, and swimsuits and swimming trunks. You both step inside, a shiver passing through you as the warm air makes contact with your cold skin. He grabs a towel from one of the open shelves and hands it to you. You run it through your hair while Taehyung grabs one for himself and runs it through his locks. 

You tap the towel over your clothes to absorb the excess water, especially your jeans, which are completely soaked. 

“You good?” Taehyung asks and you nod.  “I’ll get you a pair of my clothes and you can change into them” 

“Thanks Taehyung” you smile at him. 

Once you’re dried and not dripping water everywhere Taehyung takes you back inside the house, still no sign of his grandparents. He shows you where the rooms are and settles you into the room right next to his. You counted at least six rooms when he was giving you the tour of the floor.

“If you need anything I am just next door” he smiles after handing you his clothes. It’s a white shirt and black sweats. 

“Thank you for everything Taehyung” you return the smile. 

“Good night y/n” 

“Good night Taehyung” 

His gaze lingers on you as a few beats of silence pass. His brown eyes sparkle underneath light that is hanging overhead on the ceiling of the landing. He keeps his eyes affixed on you and you enrapt by him find it hard to look away too. 

He blinks first, breaking that small moment of tension. “I’ll-- I’ll see you tomorrow” 

“See you tomorrow” 

He pivots on his heels and disappears and you peek your head out to watch him vanish behind the door of his room. You shut the door and hobble back to the bed, falling face first on it. You feel tired but not tired enough to sleep. There isn’t a sliver of intention to sleep, and all the intention to stay awake. It’s especially worse because you’re separated by nothing but a paper thin wall between you and Taehyung. 

Knowing that he’s in the next room has your curiosity piqued. You want to know what he’s doing. You can’t help but think about the one time he grew solemn during the day when you joked if he’s cheating on you. There was something about the way he grew quiet that irked you. Something about the way his fingers loosened their grip on your hand almost as if he wanted to let go. 

You sigh and stand up, trudging to the bathroom connected to your room to take a hot shower. Maybe it will help you clear your head. 

You stare blankly at the grey ceiling of the room, your phone right next to you and your fingers slowly but surely reaching for it. 

You bring it in front of your face and open the app to text V. It feels like forever since you have talked to him. It’s in moments like this when everything around you is quiet, and your thoughts run rampant completely out of your control when you crave talking to him. Maybe it’s selfish of you but he comforts you. You remember the playlist he sent you and put the music on at a low volume so as not to disturb Taehyung in the next room. 

The silence is chased away by the sounds of quiet, soothing music. 

Bananamilk: Hi V. How are you? 

You wait for a reply but don’t have to wait for long because almost instantaneously a reply comes. 

Icedtea: I am so sorry I never messaged you all day long. Got busy 

Bananamilk: I was pretty busy too so it’s okay. What did you do? 

Icedtea: I hung out with a friend

Bananamilk: would this be the same friend you were telling me about earlier?

Icedtea: It’s weird that you’re so obsessed with her 😂 but yes. 

Bananamilk: I am not obsessed with her 😐 Anyway, what did you guys do?

Icedtea: hung out. Talked. Ate. Tried swimming but she’s afraid of water 

Bananamilk: Wow that’s strange. I am scared of water too and my friend tried to get me to swim today too. Didn’t work out too well though 

Icedtea: Strange coincidence. Yeah. She swam for a bit with my help. But then I guess there is only so much you can do when someone is afraid of water. Can’t force it. 

Bananamilk: Yeah. Take it from me. You can’t. 

Icedtea: I kinda missed talking to you even though I was busy 

Bananamilk: Yeah me too. 

Icedtea: Aren’t you sleepy? 

Bananamilk: Nah. Too much on my mind. By the way I am listening to the playlist you made for me. Dare I say you’re a musical genius 

Icedtea: Gee thanks. I’ll make you another one so you can sleep. 

Bananamilk: Why are you so sweet V?

Icedtea: I am not like this with everyone. You bring out this side of me you know? 

Your heart lurches in your throat and your hands immediately start sweating which loosens your grip on the phone. 

Bananamilk: You’re good with words 

Icedtea: It’s one of my many talents. Thank you. But on a serious note are you finding the playlist helpful at all? 

Bananamilk: You have no idea how calm I feel right now while listening to it and talking to you. 

Icedtea: I always find music relaxes me. So I thought it might help you too. 

Bananamilk: Whoever ends up with you will be one lucky gal 

Icedtea: What if it ends up being you? 

You drop your phone on your face out of shock. It hits your nose and you wince in pain. “Shit” you massage it. Normally you would freak out and lose your mind over how to respond. But right now you feel too calm to let panic take over. Nina’s words ring in your ears and you remember to let things happen. Following that line you say the first thing that comes to your head. 

Bananamilk: You deserve better than me

And he does because you feel like an absolutely shitty person for having these feelings for him but also for feeling attracted to Taehyung. V deserves someone who can love him wholeheartedly and that’s not you because your loyalties are divided.

Icedtea: I don’t think I can do any better than you

Bananamilk: You barely know me, V. 

Icedtea: I know enough to say that I can’t do better than you because you’re exactly the kind of person I envision myself with. It’s so easy with you. 

Bananamilk: I feel the same way, but trust me. One day you’ll realize you can get someone better. Maybe that friend of yours. 

Icedtea: Yeah. Maybe that friend of mine… or maybe you. Anyway, I gotta go but I will catch up with you later?

Bananamilk: Alright. Take care 

Icedtea: You too. 

With a sigh you hide yourself under the blankets. 

It’s 1 am and you’re wide awake. For the past thirty minutes you have been mindlessly scrolling through your conversation with V while simultaneously thinking about Taehyung, who is in the room right next to yours. You toss and turn in your bed, desperately waiting for your brain to get tired enough to want to sleep. But it doesn’t come. You sit up in the bed holding your head in your hands ready to rip out your hair when soft sounds of music drift into your room from the paper thin wall between your and Taehyung’s room. 

Is he not sleeping? 

Somehow hit with the disease of stupidity, you shuffle out the bed and carefully tiptoe across your room. You open the door and peek your head out towards Taehyung’s room. The door is slightly ajar, and there is a ray of light casting shadows on the wall opposite you. 

Keeping in with being as quiet as possible, you continue to tiptoe as you cross the threshold of your room and enter the landing. You stand outside Taehyung’s room and knock once. 

“I am awake” comes his voice, and you peek your head inside. 

“I thought you were asleep” you whisper shout because you don’t want to wake his grandparents up. He’s sitting up in the bed clad in PJ’s that seem to fit him looser than his usual clothes. 

“I couldn’t fall asleep” he waves you inside as he whisper shouts too. 

You step in and close the door to the room as a courtesy for his grandparents. It is weird being in an enclosed space with him but you don’t have much of a choice. 

“Are you listening to Tchaikovsky?” you say in your normal voice. 

“Yeah” he nods and pats the empty spot next to him on his bed. 

“Are you sure?” you question stopping at the edge of his bed. 

He regards you in silence and as if something breaks inside him he nods. “My clothes look good on you by the way” he says taking in how his black shirt and grey sweats swallow your frame. You sit beside him under the covers, a respectable distance apart.

“Stop” you mumble feeling the heat rising to your cheeks. 

“You’re red again” he muses from beside you as a soft grin appears on his lips. 

“Will you stop it?” you slap him gently across the shoulder. 

“Fine” he chuckles. “What’s keeping you up at night?” he looks at you with those doe eyes of his. 

You and V 

If only you could tell him he’s part of the reason why you’re up at night. If you had the guarantee that telling him about V would not change a thing about your relationship with him, you would. But you have no such guarantee and you don’t want to lose whatever bond you have built with him. It’s idealistic thinking at best, but for now all you want to do is cuddle him and let that take away all your worries for the night. 

As if he can read your mind, he’s pulling you into himself and placing your head on his chest. He traces circles on your shoulder and hums slightly to the music that plays softly in the background. 

“Let me guess. You saw on discovery channel that cuddling helps people sleep” your laughter mixes in with the sounds of his humming and Tachaikovsky’s classics. 

He snorts. “It does. Discovery channel never lies” he offers in his defense. 

“Hmm” you say wrapping your arm around his torso and snuggling in closer. “I think I could fall asleep like this”

There is a moment of silence. 

“You do know that if something is troubling you, you can share it with me right?” his grip around your shoulder tightens as he gives a short reassuring squeeze. 

“I know” you mumble. “But you don’t have to be burdened by my problems” 

“It’s what friends are for isn’t it? Sharing your burdens?” 

“So we’re friends?” you question, absentmindedly playing with the fingers of his free hand and lets you. 

“I think we’re a little bit more than friends don’t you think?” 

“Hmm” you nod. “You don’t mind this?” 

“Not one bit. But the offer stands. I am always going to be there to listen to you even if I can’t help you” 

“Thank you” you say quietly, basking in the warmth of Kim Taehyung. “I’ll tell you because one day I’ll have to. But just give me time” you realize that this is all the moments you might have with him. He might never want to see you again after you tell him about V. He might feel like you betrayed him. Like you played him. 

“Take all the time you want y/n. Something has been eating away at me for days too and I am losing my mind over it. I feel like a horrible person because I don’t know what I am supposed to do. I am forced to pick between two people I adore and I just can't lose either of them...” he trails off.  

“Oh Tae” you sigh as you hug him tighter because you understand. “You know at the end of it all, you will be exactly where you should be and whoever you are supposed to be with. I don’t know if that helps you but if I was in your situation” you pause as your mind fills in the blank -- which i am-- “that’s how I would want to look at it” 

“Thanks y/n” he mumbles as he places his head on top of yours. “I guess all this talk is probably not helping you feel sleepy eh?” 

“Actually  you’re too warm and it is making me sleepy” 

You hear the reverberations of his laugh against your ear. “Good night Mrs. Kim” you can imagine the infectious grin on his face as he says it. 

You laugh in response too. It’s become somewhat of a joke between you guys. “Good night Mr. Kim” 

For some reason since all the V and Taehyung drama, Nina has become your voice of reason. When a bout of stupidity hits you she’s there to set you straight and you’re grateful for it because you can’t really see the appeal of objectivity in the situation. 

“Text V and ask him to meet up” Nina urges you, giving you the stern look just when you’re about to open your mouth in protest and whine. 

“I don’t even know if he actually lives in New York. Or if he’s on the other side of the world” you reply with resentment towards her suggestion. 

“You didn’t ask?” she looks at you in disbelief. 

“Why would I? It’s not like I was expecting this to get anywhere” you lament. 

“Well then you better talk to Taehyung about it. It’s been a week since you went to the farmhouse. You asked for time and you got it. So tell him about V” 

“I’m scared Nina” your lips just out in a pout and a frown appears on your forehead. 

“That’s normal, cousin. But you know you have to tell him. You can’t just lead him on. Just talk to one of them. But before that do you even know who you like more? Because you can’t like both of them equally and choose one of them because you have to. This isn’t a game and they aren’t toys. It wont be fair for anyone”

“I know. I realize that. I like V. I like Taehyung. That’s a fact we have established. But I do like one of them more than the other, something I realized last week” 

“How did you come to that realization?” she questions, tone full of curiosity. 

“It just hit me...out of nowhere. I almost felt the wind get knocked out of me. But now I know” you trail, the words slipping back from your tongue and collecting back in your mind again. 

“Who is it?” she asks

“I’ll tell you after I tell him” 

“There are two ‘him’s’ in this situation” she sighs. 

“Exactly” you purse your lips. 

“Fine. Then all you need to do is talk to both of them” 

“You say that like I am going to talk to them about cake or something” you shake your head. 

“In the grand scheme of things, it's like talking about cake” she winks at you in that casual way. 

“Sure. Whatever you say” your reply. 

“Make sure you do communicate with them otherwise I am gonna haul your sorry ass and make you do it. I did it once already when I signed you up. Just know I won't hesitate to act on your behalf again” she says warningly before she’s striding off without giving you the chance of scolding her. 

As your luck would have it, V is actually in San Francisco visiting his family. You don’t know why you allowed yourself to not ask him where he was going because if you had all this could have been avoided. But alas, you did ask him because he’s the first person you need to talk to. After you deal with him you’ll tell Taehyung the truth and you are prepared to face the consequences of your actions. 

You decided to meet with V at 10 am in the coffee shop near Misim because Taehyung is at Misim visiting his mother too. 

It’s 9:45 am and your heart hasn’t stopped its painful relentless beating since well last night when you texted V and asked him to meet up. Neither did you sleep and that was obvious though wasn’t it? So at 10 am on Sunday, you’re completely tired, your body begging for sleep but somehow your brain refuses to comply as it keeps you hyper alert, hyperactive, and fidgety. To make matters worse in the last 30 minutes you have already had two coffee’s. 

The door chimes and you turn around to find Kim Taehyung walking inside, clad in a suit. His hair is parted a little bit to the left of his forehead. He’s busy typing furiously on his phone and doesn’t notice the man walking towards him on a collision course.

“Taehyung!” you yell his name to prevent them both from crashing into each other and possibly getting hurt. 

Just as he’s about to bump into the man he looks up at you and then at the man walking towards him and side steps him. 

A frown graces his face as he approaches your table. “What are you doing here?” he stops next to you

“I am meeting a friend” you look up at him. 

“Me too!” his lips widen in a grin. 

“Your friend isn’t here yet?” he questions as his eyes fall on the empty chair in front of you and the two coffee cups sitting on your side of the table. 

“Do you want to sit with me while I wait for him?” you question 

He doesn’t hesitate and sits opposite you. “So it’s a guy friend. I see” he sounds a little bit jealous. 

“Are you jealous?”you question, feeling the nervousness and dread from before dissipating just a bit. 

“Kind of” he shrugs. 

You chuckle. “I like the honesty” 

He’s silent as he looks away, the tips of his ears growing red. 

“So your friend isn’t here either?” you question in order to make him feel a little less embarrassed. 

He abandons his incessant lip biting as he looks at you. “No she isn’t” 

“Oh” your mouth hangs open. “It’s a girl” 

“Why?” an amused look passes his face, lips quivering, threatening to spill into a smile. “Are you jealous?”

“Nah. I am not petty like that” you try to suppress a smile by biting your lip. 

“Liar” he narrows his eyes at you in suspicion. 

“Whatever you say Kim Taehyung” you shake your head. You crane your neck to look at the door in case someone is entering and in case that someone is V. “It’s ten and he isn’t here. I am just going to text him. Give me one sec” you slide your phone towards yourself and open the app to text V. 

Bannamilk: Hey. Are you almost here? You didn’t get lost did you?

As soon as you send the message to V, Taehyung’s phone vibrates which sits on the table. 

Strange. 

You shut your phone and look up at Taehyung. 

“Sorry. My friend, she just texted. One sec” he types quickly and when he puts his phone away, that's when your phone vibrates with a message from V. 

Your brows furrow in confusion at the strangeness of your phone and his phone buzzing when you both send texts to your respective friend’s but you shake the feeling away focusing on the message on your screen. 

Icedtea: I am here. Wait where are you?

Bananamilk: I am here too. I don’t see you. 

As soon as the message ticks off as sent, Taehyung’s phone rings at the same time. This is too many times for it to be a coincidence. Could it possibly be… Probably not but just to put your ridiculous suspicion to rest you ask him.

“Taehyung?” you question and he looks up from his phone. “Is that a message from your friend by any chance?” 

“Yeah” he nods. 

“Wait…” you bite your lip and send another message to V. Taehyung’s phone vibrates again. You send another message, just random gibberish and it vibrates again. 

“She’s just sending keyboard smashes now” Taehyung muses, looking confusedly at his phone. 

Your mouth drops open at his statement. “Taehyung” you call tentatively. He looks up and you hold your phone in his direction. 

He leans in closer to get a better look at whatever you’re showing him. His eyes dart across the screen as he reads your message and then a look of realization crosses his face. He blinks profusely, eyes switching focus from the screen to you. 

“No fucking way” he mumbles in a dazed way. 

“Yes fucking way” you mutter. “You’re V?” 

“You’re-- wait. But how?” he continues to blink rapidly, clearly unable to comprehend whatever is happening. He shakes his head, and closes his eyes for a moment and lets out a shaky breath. He opens his eyes and gapes at you“You’re bananamilk? The girl I have been talking to for weeks?” 

You nod slowly. “I- How is this even happening?” 

“I have no idea” he says under his breath, rubbing his face. 

“How have we been talking to each other on the app and face to face and not know any of this?” It's more of a rhetorical question. You don’t expect him to answer it because how the hell is he supposed to know that? 

But he does respond. “I can’t believe I never talked about Yeontan with you. If he came up we would have known a long time ago” 

“Holy fucking shit, Yeontan” you remember the picture V-- or rather Taehyung sent you as one of his very first messages to you. 

“My head is spinning right now” he massages his temples. 

“I need water” you get up and go to the ordering counter and get yourself and Taehyung water. You walk back, noticing Taehyung’s elbows planted firmly on the table and his face hidden behind his hands. 

“Water” you mutter and place the glass in front of him. He emerges from behind his hands and doesn’t delay in chugging down the glass of water. “What now?” 

“Does this change your feelings?” he questions instantly as he slams the glass on the table. 

“You know why I invited you- well actually V-- here? To tell him-- rather you-- that I like him and I like you. But I like you more than I like him and that it wouldn’t be fair for me to keep talking to him-- or talking to you” you start feeling overwhelmed by it and pause. “This is confusing” you rub your temples with a sigh.

“So you like the real me better than the app me?” he asks, a slight amusement reflecting in his eyes. 

“Don’t you feel betrayed though?” you look at him and question in all seriousness because it would make sense for him to feel at least some severity of disappointment. Because after all, this whole time to you, V and Taehyung were two different people. 

“I get what you mean. You thought V was a different guy and liked him and then you started liking me too as Taehyung, not imagining that me and V are the same people. But it’s the same for me so I can’t be mad at you. I thought you and m’lady as I know you from the app, were two different people. I liked her-- well you-- and also the real life y/n at the same time” he smiles softly. 

You bite your lip, unable to stop yourself from blinking profusely as the confusion still remains prevalent in your mind. “This is nuts” you cradle your head in your hands. “I still can’t believe it” 

“It is” Taehyung’s voice comes through like a saviour and draws you out of the dizzying trance you find yourself in. 

“Wait so when I joked with you that you’re cheating on me you grew all serious. Was that because of all this?” you question, curiosity getting the better of you. 

“Yeah. I felt horrible. Because it did feel like cheating. Here I was with this amazing girl, starting to develop feelings for her. But then I already liked another girl too” 

You shake your head slowly, still unable to fully grasp the situation. “You know I got the sense that something was wrong when you grew quiet and almost let go of my hand” 

“Sorry I didn’t mean to but it just hit me hard and I got lost in those feelings” 

“It’s okay” you offer with  a smile. 

“Are you mad at me?” he questions, voice laced with concern. 

“No. I can’t be mad at you. I mean if it was only you and there actually were two people then I might have been hurt. But we’re in this together” 

Taehyung pulls his lower lip between his teeth, a look of deep thought on his face. “So then we’re good?” 

You laugh quietly, a short huff of air out of your nose. “We’re good” 

“Since this is out in the open. I have to ask you this because I am dying of curiosity. When did you start liking me on the app and when did you start liking me in real life?” he questions, leaning in towards you. 

“I think that first spark of attraction on the app happened when we started talking about classical music and then we talked about LA and how it’s a sucky place to grow up in. In real life I realized it was when you ordered half and half of shaved ice and then when you brought those snacks for the trip to Sonoma. I thought you were kind and considerate which drew me to you even more” 

“Oooh” he chuckles. “For the app it was the same for me. But when I met you as y.n the moment that sticks out in my memory is when people at the restaurant kept calling us Mr. and Mrs. Kim. I realized I wouldn’t mind being your Mr. Kim” 

“How romantic” you joke, but you can’t deny that it's cute. 

Taehyung stifles a yawn but you catch it. “Did you not sleep?”. Sometimes it surprises you how easily you transition from one topic to another with Taehyung. There are no awkward pauses, no long deafening silences. Here you were two seconds ago talking about all the craziness but now you’re approaching a different topic. 

He shakes his head, another yawn teetering at the edge. “I was too nervous about today”. 

“Me too. I didn’t sleep a wink” you admit now that a bit of the confusion and from earlier has subsided. 

“Do you wanna nap?” he asks, wagging his brows at you. 

“Where?” you question 

“I know a place” he gets up and extends his hand. 

You take it and both of you walk out of the coffee shop hand in hand. 

You blink daftly at Taehyung, unable to believe he’s brought you here. “Your mom’s office?” 

“She has a couch” he points to the black piece of furniture that looks very comfortable at the moment. He flops down on it with a thud, head resting against the back. 

“Whatever” you mumble and make your way to the inviting plush leather sofa. “I am too tired right now to be picky” 

You lay your head in Taehyung’s lap after he insists that you use him as a pillow because “it will be more comfortable”. He plays with your hair absentmindedly, staring at nothing in particular with tired eyes. 

“What if Mrs. K comes in and sees us like this?” you question making him lift his head and look at you with those groggy eyes. 

“One, she’ll be delighted because she got her wish. Second, she won’t be here until tomorrow because her day is jam packed with meetings” he mutters, tiredness reflecting in the quietness of his voice. 

You’re quiet in response as you think about nothing in particular. But then your mind shifts to how it used to be before you met Taehyung. Things were different back then. You were so sure you couldn’t fall in love, much less fall in ‘like’ with anyone. You didn’t even want to involve yourself in relationships. But then he came in the picture and even though at first you didn’t think you would end up anywhere, you realized on that first night with him that you could end up somewhere with him. 

“Do you think this is going to change things?” you ask as you try to fight off the sleepiness because you need to know. 

“It’s not changing a thing for me. I am relieved in a way to be honest” his voice is raspy. He continues to run his fingers through your scalp which makes the sleepy sensation worse

“Relieved?” 

“Yeah. I fell for the same girl. Just different versions of her. I am so happy you are not two different people” 

“Me too” you yawn. 

“Anyway, I thought you were tired” he bends down and presses a kiss to your forehead.  

“I am ”you hold his arm over your torso and close your eyes finally. “I just wanted to know that things wouldn’t change” 

“They won’t” he mumbles sleepily and you notice his eyes fluttering shut. You let yourself drift deeper into the sweet slumber that is slowly overtaking you. The last thing you remember is the sounds of soft snores filling the room before your eyes shut. 

“Y/n” 

Jolt 

“Y/n” 

In your sleepy state you can hear someone calling your name. 

“Wake up. I should drop you home” 

You groan and shift slightly. 

“Okay seriously my legs are numb now, so you better get up” 

You murmur and refuse to open your eyes even when you feel another sharp jolt of your body being shaken. You flinch when you feel a draft of air in your ear, and have to clap your hand to shut your ear close. 

“Taehyung stop. Let me sleep” you whine in a raspy voice. 

“It’s 9 pm y/n and my dear mother is here” he whispers close to the ear you're covering. 

“What!” you awaken immediately at the mention of Mrs. K. 

“Good evening” Taehyung greets and you slide your legs over the edge of the couch as you sit with your back against the sofa. 

You look at him through half lidded eyes. “You said it’s 9 pm” 

“It’s 5 pm. We’ve been here for six hours” he smiles gently

You look around for signs of Mrs. K but the room is empty save for you and Taehyung. “You lied about your mom being here” you croak, throat feeling parched.

“It was the only way to get you up. Now, let's get you home where you can sleep more peacefully” Taehyung reaches over and places a kiss on your temple. 

“How much of a mess do I look like right now?” you rub your eyes. 

“Well, your eyes are a little puffy, lips slightly dry, and your hair is a bit messy too. So all in all you look beautiful” he grins at you. 

“Oh please don’t” you shake your head in pure disapproval. 

“Whatever you say y/n. But seriously I’ve got to get you home” 

“What are you, the curfew police?” you laugh quietly. 

“Don’t try to change the subject” 

You whine some more about wanting to sleep here because it’s comfortable but Taehyung promises that you’ll be much more comfortable at home in your bed.  And who are you to say no Taehyung? He could ask you to jump off a cliff and you would do it. He could break your heart and you would still like him. You’re putty in his hands and so you let him drive you home. 

At first when you offer Taehyung to come inside he refuses because he doesn’t want you to feel like you have to. But then when you explain that you really want him to come inside, after about fifty long seconds of thinking about it he says yes. He quietly follows you inside, and you lead him to the living room which is empty because Nina isn’t home. In fact she won’t be home for a few days. 

Taehyung makes himself comfortable and like the gentleman he is asks if he can put on Netflix. You tell him he can do whatever he likes, well because he can. You give him the freedom and permission because you trust him. After putting your stuff away you join him on the sofa and immediately he cuddles up to you, placing his head on your shoulder and wrapping an arm around your torso. You extend an arm behind him, so you can play with his hair. 

“What are we watching?” you ask, absentmindedly threading your fingers through his hair. 

“The Witcher” Taehyung mumbles as he puts on the first episode. 

“I forgot you are well aware of my Henry Cavill obsession” 

“You forget I think he’s a piece of art. So technically I am doing this for me and you” he says softly, eyes glued to the TV. 

You watch a few episodes in silence, occasionally changing your positions so that sometimes you are resting your head on his shoulder, or he’s laying his head on your lap and playing with your fingers as you’re both completely absorbed in the show.

He shifts his head in your lap as he turns his focus to you. “Y/n” his voice overlaps with the sounds of the Tv. “Will you be my girlfriend?” 

You look down at him with a soft smile. “Yes, I will” you reach down and press your lips against his. Taehyung immediately melts into it, hand reaching up to cup your cheek to deepen the kiss. Then in one smooth motion, he’s pinning you under himself. Your moans are muffled by his lips pressing soft kisses against your lips. His hands grip your sides, nails digging into your flesh. 

“I want to do more than just kiss you y/n” he mumbles against your lips

You let him. 

A shiver runs down your spine as Taehyung hovers over you, the bed creaking slightly due to the pressure of his hands digging into the mattress. He presses a kiss to your forehead, your nose, and then your lips. It begins as something playful, almost innocent but soon enough lust takes over and his kisses get hungrier. He wants more, and he conveys it as he digs his nails into your flesh making you wince in pain, but it’s the kind that’s pleasurable. 

“Fuck I want you so bad y/n” he runs his fingers down the middle of your torso, hand stopping just above your hip bone, where he teasingly plays with the band of your jeans. 

“Stop being a tease” you chide breathlessly, turning your head to look away from him

“Tell me you want it” he gently drags his finger upwards and it catches in the material of your shirt which rides up, partially exposing your stomach. His fingers continue grazing against your skin until his hand with your jaw and he makes you look at him. “Say it” he whispers softly, looking you straight in the eyes. 

“I want it. I want you” 

Taehyung doesn’t waste any time after you give him permission. He unzips your jeans and pulls them down your legs leaving you exposed in your panties. As he’s busy with that you almost rip your shirt as you hastily slide it over your head and throw it on the floor. A slight feeling of impatience overcomes you, as Taehyung very slowly crawls back up to you, leaving a trail of kisses over your exposed abdomen. 

You’re so impatient that you arch your back to gain access to your bra clip but he is quick to grip your hand just as you’re about to unhook it “Leave it on” the expression in his eyes darkens considerably as he kisses up your chest and nibbles on your collarbone. 

“Is that your kink?” you whisper breathlessly threading your fingers through his hair as he continues to bite gently along your collarbone. 

“I think it’s hotter that way” he mumbles as his lips graze your skin. 

 He locks his hands in yours and raises your arms above your head while he moves down to press soft kisses along your inner thigh until he reaches just above your core. He licks a strip along the skin just above the hem of your panties, teasing you, making your insides ache even more for some kind of friction.

“Just do it” you mumble impatiently. 

He chuckles. “Didn’t pin you for the impatient type” 

“Didn’t pin you for the talking type” you tease. “I thought you would be more of an action kind of guy” you try to provoke just so he will act and loosen the knot that’s built in the pit of your stomach. A pulsating sensation rips through your core when he pushes away the fabric of your underwear and rubs his thumb up and down your clit. 

“Shit” you shiver, back arching. 

“I haven’t even touched you properly y/n” his raspy voice makes the throbbing even worse. You can feel yourself getting wet. 

“Then do it. Please” you whine, craving his touch. 

“Who am I to say no?” and without a warning he plunges a finger inside you. 

“Oh my god, Taehyung--” your breath catches in your throat, breaking out in gasps as he pushes in and out slowly. 

“Wow, you’re tight” Taehyung mumbles as he sets a slow pace making sure you can feel every movement. He curls his index finger inside you, hitting that sweet spot that has your whole body stiffening in response. 

“Taehyung” you gasp, hips bucking automatically at the contact, your body yearning for the release that is building up slowly. 

“Fuck” he whispers as he presses his lips against your clit, moving his tongue in ways that makes you almost scream out of pleasure. You clutch the fabric of the bed sheet tight, knuckles turning white as Taehyung increases the pace with which he slides his finger in and out of you. You can hear the squelch of his fingers fucking you as your walls begin to clamp down on his fingers. The knot in your stomach twists, as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. 

But just as you feel yourself teeter at the edge Taehyung takes his finger out. 

“What are you doing?” you ask annoyed at being denied your orgasm. 

“Your turn” he shuffles from between your legs and sits down at the edge of the bed, and takes his pants and boxers off.  He looks over his shoulder at you, tongue peeking from behind his teeth. You get up, even though your legs feel weak and shift to the side so he has space. He shuffles back until he’s resting against the headboard. 

When you see him, your eyes travel immediately between his legs. “Wow” you blink profusely. “I am not sure it will--” 

“You’ll be fine. I got you” he says reassuringly as for a slight moment the primal expression of his eyes softens to be replaced by the comforting Kim Taehyung you are used to. “I promise” 

You did not expect him to be that thick and long. You can see the veins popping along his shaft. Slightly worried, you crawl over to him on your hands and knees as he grips himself. You lick your lips at the sight of him looking he’s fucked out of his mind and you haven’t even touched him. It only serves to make your arousal worse. 

You slap his hands away and wrap your own around his shaft. You bend down to lick a teasing line along the side and feel him shudder under you. Your confidence soars seeing him react so sensitively to your touch. You lick another strip at the crimson head, already leaking with precum. 

“Stop being a fucking tease” his voice comes out strained which makes you laugh quietly, a huff of air out through your nose. 

“Just repaying the favour Mr. Kim” you part your lips taking in as much of his cock into your mouth as you can. He reaches for your hair and pulls it back and thrusts his hips making you gag. You feel the head of his cock hit the back of your throat and you feel a slight burn in your jaw as he thrusts into your mouth once more.

“Fuck” he groans halting the movement and to let you continue on your own.  You pull back up to the head and sink back down again and he shivers beneath you once more. You pull away from him, breathless as you wrap your fingers around him. You look up to meet his hooded eyes and start massaging his cock, watching as he bites his lip and a soft whimper escapes his throat. 

“Keep going” he strains. You move your hand up and down against his shaft slowly at first and then you pick up the pace when you notice he starts twitching between your fingers. His thighs are tense as you fasten your pace and his chest rises and falls faster than before. The soft moans grow louder, hips lifting off the bed. It’s not long before he’s climaxing, and gasping for air as he bucks his hips for more friction. A guttural groan passes his lips as his orgasm hits him hard and his release coats your hands. But you don’t mind because the way Taehyung is gasping for air, red-faced, his hair in his eyes, lip caught between his teeth, it was worth it.

“I help you, you help me” you mumble as you lick your fingers free of his juices. 

“That’s so hot y/n. Fuck. Just lie down” he orders and you don’t waste a single second getting on your back. 

Taehyung hovers over you, hands locking yours in place beside your head, as he presses a  hungry kiss to your lips. He leaves your mouth to place soft kisses to the crook of your neck. He lingers there for a moment before making his way back down until he is between your legs. He spreads your legs apart, and settles in between them immediately sliding two fingers this time in your core as he looks at you from between your legs. 

“That’s it. Come on baby.” he mumbles as he dives in and suckles on your clit making that pressure build-up again as he moves in rhythm with his fingers. Your body feels like it’s on fire and you can't help but buck your hips in need of more friction. His fingers and his tongue pick up their pace making you keen as they work in tandem. 

He pulls his mouth away from your clit. He fervently pushes his fingers in and out of you while with his other hand he rubs your clit. “Cum for me babe” 

With the overstimulation, it’s not long before you are coming undone, walls pulsating and convulsing around his fingers. He draws patterns with his thumb on your clit as you climax. You shiver, and fist the bed sheet until your knuckles turn white as waves of pleasure rip through you. 

“Taehyung-” you whimper 

He licks as much of your cum as he can before he pulls away, shifting to place a soft kiss on your forehead. 

“You were amazing” he praises as he rolls off you, gathering you up in his arms, feeling the sheen of sweat on your skin as he strokes your arm. “Shower?” he questions, slightly breathless. 

“Give me a minute” you pant heavily trying to catch your breath as you snuggle against his warm body.

He chuckles and presses another kiss to your forehead. “Whatever you want y/n”

After you shower and clean yourself up, you and Taehyung make your way downstairs to the living room where you had left The Witcher on. You both fall down on the couch and you cuddle against him. He wraps his arm around you pulling you in closer. He reaches for the remote with his free hand and goes back to episode three which is where you had left off. 

“Taehyung?” you ask softly

“Yeah” he replies, eyes glued to the show. 

“Who was that girl in the picture you drew? The paper that I gave you when I first met you. I saw it” 

“You” he replies. 

You pull away from his warm embrace to look at him. You are sure it wasn’t you because it looked nothing like you. “Me?” your brows furrowed in confusion. 

“I saw your picture on Swipe, but you were wearing sunglasses that covered half your face. So I didn’t clearly know what you looked like. On my way here to meet my mother, I made that sketch based on what I thought you would look like given your personality. I did that because I had started to like you.” 

“Thats--” you have no words so you grab the material of his shirt and pull him in for a quick kiss. 

“What was that?” he asks, confused once you pull apart. 

“That deserves a kiss. You made me a playlist and then you drew a sketch. It was not of me. But it’s the thought that counts” you smile. 

“I have a question too” he looks at you curiously. 

“Go ahead” 

“What did you wish for that day? I know you said you don’t wish and tell but I want to know if that wish came true” he reaches for your hand and locks his fingers into yours. 

You’re quiet as you look at this man in front of you. The man who came like a whirlwind into your life and turned it upside down. A man you didn’t know until two weeks ago and then you knew all of him as V and as Taehyung. You got to see two different sides of him when people in this day and age are lucky enough to see one true side of someone. 

“What was it?” he prompts again with a soft smile that crinkle’s the corners of his eyes. 

“You” you whisper. “It was you. I wished for you” 

“You didn’t even know me back then” he blinks in an awestruck manner. 

“Yes I did. Just not in the way you or I thought. I wished that one day I hope I would meet V. Little did I know my wish had already come true hours before I made it and that it was standing in front of me in the form of you, Kim Taehyung” 

He blinks. He’s quiet as he looks at you, eyes travelling the expanse of your face as if he’s trying to commit to memory. His eyes sparkle, and you can see yourself reflected in his brown irises. You can see yourself through them and for a moment you think you look beautiful. 

“I love you” he leans in and presses a peck to your lips. “I love you so fucking much” 

You’re positively beaming when he pulls away. “I love you too. So fucking much” you reply and he laughs pulling you into his side as both of you settle back to watch The Witcher. 

{2 months later} 

When you and Taehyung decide to take things forward, you spend the night over at his place in San Francisco when he’s there instead of your own which is perfectly fine with Nina. He flies out from New York every few weeks to see you which is one of the many cute things he does for you.

On one Friday night when he’s in town and you’re at his place, your sweet sweet slumber is disturbed by an annoying Taehyung at 1 am. The sounds of feet shuffling against the floor, objects clattering here and there, muffled sounds of music just makes it all the more difficult to stay asleep. You whine and turn on your stomach and run your hand to the other side of the bed, searching for a pillow. Once your hand makes contact with the fluffy object, you throw it over your ear to block out the annoying sounds. 

“Y/n wake up” Taehyung’s voice blares through the room followed by the slow increase in the volume of music. “I’ll give you ten seconds babe” 

“No….” you maon, clutching the pillow tighter to your ear. 

“10, 9, 8, 7….” Taehyung’s voice grows nearer and nearer until the covers are being ripped off you along with the pillow. “We still need to get tickets” 

You open an eye to find Taehyung looming over you, hands pressed on either side of you on the mattress. He’s  already dressed and he smells like strawberries-- as usual. You abandon your comfortable sleeping position and turn on your back, eyes still half closed. “Can you really not tell me where we are going?” you complain as you open your eyes to find him looking at you with a soft look in his eyes. 

“Even I don’t know where we are going. Impromptu vacation remember?” he explains as he gets up on the bed and straddles you. He wraps his fingers around your forearms and lifts you up. “Alright, up and at em’ ” he strains. Once you’re sitting up, he kisses the tip of your nose and shuffles off the bed. You’re so tired you can’t even be bothered to feel your usual blushy self at his cute romantic gestures. 

“Can’t I sleep for five more minutes” you yawn. 

“Y/n” he says warningly. You look in his direction to find him standing in front of the dressing table mirror, fixing his already perfect hair. “Get up or no more Henry Cavill movie marathons on the weekends” he looks at you through the mirror knowing that threatening you with this will do the trick.

“Wow” your jaw drops. “You’re really gonna do me dirty like that?” 

“Okay seriously...” Taehyung turns on his heels and strides over to you, placing one arm under your knees and the other behind your back as he picks you up. 

“Taehyung!” you squeal as he carries you over to the bathroom. He kicks the door open with his foot and enters inside, placing you gently on the floor. You shiver as your feet touch the cold floor. The mirror is fogged, exhaust fans blaring above you. 

“Shower. Now” he ushers you towards the bathtub. He turns back towards the bathroom cabinets, crouches down and takes out a towel and stands up turning to you. He thrusts it in your hand. “Hurry up please” he stands on his toes to place a kiss on the top of your head and then he’s closing the door leaving you slightly annoyed. 

You begrudgingly listen to him and quickly shower putting on your bathrobe. Once you’re out of the bathroom you find the bed has already been made, and your clothes laid out on the bed. Taehyung is one his phone as he’s relaxing on the bed. 

“Have I ever told you how much I appreciate you?” you enter further into the room. 

“No you haven’t but the feeling is mutual” Taehyung abandons his perch on top of the bed and quietly exits the room to let you change. It’s when he does things like this that makes you want to jump his bones. But given that you are on a time constraint and still a little tired you’re not in the mood for jumping anything. 

Kim Taehyung sure does have taste as he picks out an outfit similar to his. Black cargo pants, with a white shirt and a blue denim jacket. You hear Taehyung calling out for you and quickly put on your clothes. 

“I am done!” you yell back and he enters the room. “Did you pick matching outfits?” you ask because he’s also dressed in a white shirt tucked in black cargo pants and a loose blue denim jacket completes the look. 

“It’s the trend these days. I would love to shower you in compliments because you look way better than I do, but we don’t have time” he tugs you by the wrist and hurries downstairs with you in tow. “Your shoes are by the door” he comments, gathering the luggage. Taehyung quickly puts his shoes on. He rushes past you with carry-on bags slung over his shoulders and hands occupied by the suitcases. 

The night is crisp and slightly chilly as you step out and lock the door. You run over to the car, Taehyung already in the driver's seat all strapped in. This is the only time in your very new two month relationship where Taehyung hasn’t opened the car door for you. You quickly sit and put your seatbelt on and then he drives off.

“So where do you want to go?” he asks as you stand hand in hand in front of the large board displaying all the domestic flights. 

When Taehyung suddenly proposed a spontaneous vacation your options were limited to staying in the country because everywhere else you would need a visa.  But you didn’t have time for that so you both settled on picking the earliest flight you would find at the airport when you arrived. 

You point to the board. “Seems like it’s gonna have to be New York” you say as it’s the earliest flight out of San Francisco at 4 am. 

Taehyung follows your finger. “That’s easy then. I live there. We don’t even need to find a hotel” 

“Well now you get to go home” you smile at him. 

He uses his free hand and places it on your other cheek as he pulls you in to kiss your temple. “You’re my home silly. My home is where you are” 

“See when you say things like that I don’t know what to do with myself. But  you’re my home too” you admit daringly, not shying away at all. 

He chuckles as he looks down at you. “I am never going to stop saying things like this. Ever. Because I am allowed to say them to you. If not you then who?” he grins from ear to ear. 

“Kim Taehyung, if only you could see inside my heart and my mind and know how you make me feel” you sigh. 

“I can see it on your face y/n. I don’t need anything else to know that” he pauses, the look in his eyes softening ever so slightly at seeing your lips quiver in a smile. That’s all he really needs to know what you feel. “Now, are you okay with New York?” he asks, directing both of your attention to more urgent matters because even he knows both of you could go on for hours about how much you love each other.

“It’s the earliest one, plus I have never been so it’s as good as any other place. Let's hope they have seats” you shrug. 

After deciding on New York, Taehyung goes to the check in desk while you wait behind. You watch as he speaks with the lady at the desk and after a moment her eyes are scanning the screen in front of her. She looks up at him with a smile and then he turns over his shoulder with a grin and throws you a thumbs-up. 

You immediately feel giddy at the prospect of going to New York with Taehyung and seeing the Rockefeller Centre, Central Park, Statue of Liberty, Times Square and the Empire State Building. You haven’t told him but you’ve held this fantasy of kissing him at the top of the Empire State Building ever since you got together.

He comes back with two boarding passes and tickets and hands one to you. “Lets go!” he says excitedly with a sparkle in his eyes as he naturally holds your hand. 

“We’re really doing this?” you ask as you beside him disbelief painted on your face. 

“I told you I would take you anywhere y/n and I meant it. Next time I am gonna take you on a real-out-of-the-country vacation. I promise” he looks down at you, a boxy smile ever present on his face as he squeezes your hand. 

The waiting area is almost empty save for a few people here and there. You lie with your head in his lap, his denim jacket serving as a blanket on your feet as you are reading the Blood of the Elves-- the book that The Witcher is based on, a fact you didn't know until two weeks ago when Taehyung mentioned it. You practically freaked out and the next day a package of the series was waiting for you on your desk at work. 

Taehyung runs his hands through your hair, too immersed in his own book. You pull down the novel to your chest and read the title of his book as it hovers above you. 

“The subtle art of not giving a fuck” you mumble. 

Taehyung’s face emerges from behind the book upon hearing you say that. “It’s a very good read” he closes the book.

“I hate non-fiction stuff” you reply. 

“I know” he bends and places a soft peck on your lips. “Listen, I have something to give you” 

“Oh?” you lift yourself off him and slide your legs over the edge of the seats and straighten up next to him. He rummages through his carry on and pulls out a piece of rolled paper with a red tie around it. 

He holds it out for you. “Open it” 

You take it from him, the texture of the paper soft against your fingers. You carefully untie the red string and the paper unfolds partially. You roll it back, eyes widening and mouth dropping open. “Taehyung….” you look at him .

“Do you like it?” he asks softly almost like he’s nervous that you won’t. 

“I- I love it. When did you draw this?” you ask as you look down to admire the art-- rather your face which is staring back at you as a black and white sketch. 

“I had some spare time” you look up to find him grinning at you. 

“No one has ever done anything like this for me” you blink up at him, realizing for the first that he’s done things for you no one has-- he made you a playlist, helped you swim, and now he’s made you a sketch. “Why?” you question softly. 

“Because you’re art y/n. To me you are the most beautiful piece of art. You take my breath away and I am catastrophically and hopelessly in love with you.” 

“Kim Taehyung you… are...” you whisper as you stare at him in awe and disbelief, a smile pulling at your lips. You tug him towards you by the neckline of his t-shirt and then press your lips on his. You kiss him like you’ve never kissed anyone before. It feels like you’re drowning in your feelings for him and the only air you need is the touch of his lips against yours. When you pull back  Taehyung’s ears are beet red, and his lips are stained pink by your lip gloss. 

“I love you too, y/n” he looks at you with a fond look in his eyes. 

“I love you more” you reply. 

He gasps. “How dare you. I love you way more than you love me” 

Your voices fill the air as you continue to argue about who loves who more. 

You had no intention of being the seventeen year old you once were-- the one who could fall in love. But then Kim Taehyung waltzed into your life and made you feel like you were seventeen again. He made you fall in love with all of him. And you would gladly fall for him all over again if you were given the choice. 

Thank you so much for reading. if you liked it be sure to let me know! My ask box and DMs are open :) 

[petri808]

Secret 🎅 gift for @tillythestrange @bkdksecretsanta

Secret Santa letter please don’t mind my crappy edit lol. Short but I think it came out cute 😊 Hapy Holidays! 💚💛☃️

“Aww, come on Kacchan, just enjoy the party!” Izuku smiles, bouncing on the balls of his feet in front of the grumpy blonde. “It was really nice of Endeavor to throw it for Christmas.”

“Tch. Must’a been Icyhot’s influence.” Katsuki shoves his hands into his pockets. “You’re lucky I let you drag me here.”

“There’s nothing wrong with supporting our employer, and besides it’s a good idea for us to keep up appearances.”

It’s customary for companies in Japan to celebrate the end of the year, but as part of rebuilding the public’s trust in Pro heroes, doing something nice for kids was a perfect idea. So, they decided on a Christmas themed party where local children from poorer neighborhoods were brought with their parents to attend. Just picture it, Endeavor in a Santa costume makes for a great photo opportunity. They get to spend an evening with the heroes, eat and receive a present from Santa.

Katsuki rolls his eyes. “This is so cheesy.” There’s even mistletoe hung. Why? PDA’s are just not something they do in their culture. A ten foot, noble pine was set up and decorated with lights and colorful ornaments. Garlands were strung around the room with large silver bells and red ribbons. Yeah, it all looked like it came out of children’s book.

“Baku nii-chan! Deku nii-chan!”

The two men turn to the loud calls of their names, knowing full well its sources. Neither men has seen the children in over a year due to how busy they were. But Mahoro and Katsuma Shimano were now 13 & 10 years old.

“Our mini me’s!” Izuku chuckles as he kneels down to embrace one child, then the other. “This really is a special occasion now!”

“Pfft,” Katsuki crosses his arms though there’s an evident smile on his face. “It just means we’re on baby sitting duty now.”

“Kacchan, be nice. I’m very happy to see them here.”

“Yeah, Kacchan,” Mahoro mimics Izuku with a smirk. “Be nice.”

“Still a brat I see.”

“She’s a mini you Kacchan.” Even the children giggle at Izuku’s words.

“Tch. She is not.”

Izuku shares a knowing glance with the giggling children. He takes Katsuma’s hand, “how about we show you around?”

Mahoro immediately jumps onto Katsuki’s back, demanding that he piggy back her.

“Oi! Aren’t you too old for that?!”

“Nope!” She chirps.

He rolls his eyes but acquiesces to her demands and eventually Katsuma too ended up on Izuku’s shoulders. The pairs were glued together for the evening, with the children, mostly Mahoro, chattering away about what they’ve been doing or how they love to see their favorite hero’s on the television. Katsuma had truly come to idolize Izuku and hopes to one day follow in the man’s footsteps.

“He keeps a scrap book of Deku nii-chan’s news clippings,” Mahoro tells them about her brothers interests. “Every time you’re in a newspaper or magazine, he bugs me to buy a copy.”

“Awww,” Izuku smiles, “I’m really honored you’d do that! You know,” he speaks directly to the boy, “When I was your age, I was the same way about All Might.”

“That’s an understatement,” Katsuki interjects. “You’re still obsessed with All Might.”

“So? You were just as obsessed as I was Kacchan. We even used to dress up as All Might as kids.”

The two children start giggling madly, especially at the way Katsuki was defending against the statement.

“I was 4! And I wasn’t obsessed, I studied him so I could surpass him. Which I have!”

“He was obsessed,” Izuku mouthes to the children and set off another round of giggles.

As the two heroes glare at each other, Mahoro, ever the trouble maker, leans onto the table and rests her arms on the surface. “So, are you two dating yet?”

“What?!” Both men instantly forget about the feud.

“W-Were not dating!”

Katsuki deadpans. “It’s not like that!”

“Uh-huh, sure looks like it to me. You two bicker like an old married couple in the movies.”

“Well that’s just bullshit!”

“Kacchan, language!”

“Maybe you guys are just idiots then.” Mahoro quips back.

Katsuki stands up from his chair, pointing a finger at the girl. “Listen here you little brat! Only I get to call Deku an idiot!”

Unfazed, Mahoro crosses her arms with a wider smirk. “See. You’re defending him because you like him. Just admit it. It’s okay, we think it’s cute.” Katsuma just nods along with his sisters words.

“I— y-you! Stop it!” The blonde shouts across the table. “We’re friends! We haven’t kissed or anything yet!” How the hell did this kid figure it out?! Katsuki’s sure he’s hidden his feelings for his best friend well!

“Yet?” Her brow raises. “So, you admit you like Deku-nii. That’s a shame you haven’t kissed him, what’s taking you so long?”

Izuku is in complete shock that this is where the conversation had gone. His face is heated and rosy, only made worse by Katsuki’s continuing argument with a 13 year old girl. “Oh, my god...” Izuku breathed out as his body slipped lower in his chair. Now would be a great time to have an invisibility quirk!

“There’s nothing to admit!!”

“Come on Baku nii-chan,” the girl continues teasing the man. “Just kiss him for Christmas. Here, lemme help you.” Mahoro creates a hologram of a mistletoe above Izuku’s head. “You don’t wanna break tradition, do you.”

“Eeeep!” Izuku shrieks. “Why are you doing this?!”

“Because I’m helping you both to admit your feelings for each other.”

Ugh! Katsuki didn’t know what else to do! It’s not like Mahoro was some villain he could beat up, she’s a smart-aleck 13 year old girl! He drops back onto his seat. “Will you talk some sense into her Deku?! Maybe she’ll listen to you.”

Based on the girl shaking her head, Izuku assumes the answer is a big fat no. So, he turns sheepishly to Katsuki instead. “I mean one kiss wouldn’t kill us if it’ll quiet her down.”

“Are you—,” Katsuki starts but quickly snaps his mouth shut. He knew Izuku all too well not to read it on his face that he is serious, but not just to shut the girl up, did he want him to kiss him?! All this time, Katsuki assumed Izuku just saw him as a friend, but the look in the man’s eyes, full of hope? Longing?! His own cheeks fill with warmth at the thought of kissing his crush. Something he’d only fantasized of doing... “Are you sure?” Izuku nods yes.

Katsuki groans internally and narrows his eyes at Mahoro. “If we kiss, you’ll back off, right?!”

“Yup!” The girl smiles.

Okay, it’s not like he’s ever kissed anyone before! And with an audience, Katsuki’s nerves triple. He faces off with Izuku calculating what the right way of pulling this off would be. Seconds turn to minutes as the staring contest continues. Ugh! He could feel his face on fire and his hands are getting sweaty. Any longer and soon explosions would start to go off.

Mahoro drums her fingers on the table. “Any time now Baku nii-chan, Deku nii-chan. I’m not gonna hold that hologram up all night.”

“Argh! Alright already!” Fuck it, just go in for the kill! Katsuki grabs Izuku’s face with both his hands and just slams their lips together so roughly, teeth clash, and the man gives off a squeak. Definitely not how he’d fantasized this would be, but the deed is done.

When Katsuki pulls away, Izuku pulls him back in for a second kiss, needier than this time. The crowd of party guests erupt into a sea of hollering and camera flashes as the two pro heroes locked lips. Such displays were unusual, but apparently there kiss is being celebrated. This time it’s Izuku who pulls away with happy tears in his eyes.

“Geez, don’t cry,” Katsuki chided the man. “It’s not like it was perfect or anything.”

“I thought it was,” Izuku sniffled. “I’ve been dreaming of it for years.”

Katsuki deadpans. So, that meant they’d both been thinking about each other?! He glares at Mahoro. “How’d you figure it out?!”

“Congratulations,” the sassy preteen smirked back, “you’re now officially the last to know.”

[nomanwalksalone]

TAKE MY IVY, PLEASE

by Réginald-Jérôme de Mans

A few years before my excellent state graduate school destroyed the promise of accessible public education and raised tuition to the same levels as the privates, my housemate, complaining that he wanted an experience that I had already had, transferred to Yale. Said experience, one I had never put a name to, was “the Ivy League experience.” I never thought that my undergraduate years at Dirnelli U (known to non-iGents as Brown) amounted to any sort of emblematic experience of the eight universities that compose the Ivies, nor that the sort of experience that expression connotes exists today outside of the imaginations of a few who have closed their eyes to the sartorial realities of college, whether on the campus of an Ivy League or elsewhere.

Certainly by the time I wandered my college town’s streets the idea of an Ivy look that was not the national college outfit of jeans, sweats or even pajamas was ludicrous, even if those wanderings frequently took me past Brown’s last two, soon-to-be-extinct, soon-to-be-unmourned, Ivy outfitters. Despite one of them adding a large wood carving of the Polo logo to its sign, they remained unrelatable enclaves surrounded by the diners with insane hours (midnight to four AM) and smoke shops with Sobranie Black Russians which I remember more sentimentally.

They weren’t welcoming, either, if I ever braved to venture past the window displays with Royall Lyme and defiantly middle-aged Barry Bricken and Tricots Saint-Raphael mufti. Undergraduates were not buying, and that shop, Hillhouse Ltd, closed my senior year. Times had changed to the point that I remember the opening of a Gap on Thayer Street drawing some criticism in the press for that shop’s expected priciness.

Richard Press evokes Hillhouse Ltd.’s predecessor, Langrock, and the other classic outfitters of the Ivy League in his sparkling memoir Threading the Needle, a collection of reminiscences from his posts on the website of J. Press, the ur-classic clothier founded by his grandfather. Even if J. Press is now owned by its Far Eastern licensee Onward Kashiyama, Richard Press remains the face of the firm, and, for all intents and purposes, its breezy, never windy, voice.

Press is ebullient to the point of becoming almost ethereal, a far cry from my memories of the weary heaviness of my local Ivy shops’ atmospheres, their prosaic furnishings and quite mundane merchandise… But then again, my first recollection of Ivy style, recognized in retrospect like a recovered memory, was of my high school English teacher’s tweed jacket, which he opened to lend me a pen that smelt as memorably bad as almost anything I’ve smelt since then, including tanneries and certain institutional wards, suffused as it was not with the Hebridean peat fires that Richard Press insists you could smell in the old Harris Tweeds his father sold, but with decades of spilt coffee and sweat-drenched wool that must have never seen a dry clean, so that his shapeless, indiscriminately patterned tweed jacket bore the pedigree of its soiling. My first experience, then, was of miasma, not Press’s ether.

No wonder Richard Press makes a virtue out of the emptiness of the actual Ivy stores, filling them with ethos and intangible evocations: a sense not just of community but of belonging. Belonging to the New Haven restaurants that only sat university students and staff, not townsfolk; belonging to the boisterous undergraduates who knew that Press’s frequently invoked “Boola boola” is a Yale fight song; belonging to a time when immigrant tailor Jacobi Press and his staff travelled the trails of the carriage trade and visited boarding schools to sell rich adolescents custom suits, the better to lock them in for college and life. Belonging to dangerous road trips between Dartmouth and its sister college in the days before co-education (or good highways) to flirt, or at least hope to loan out a J. Press Shetland wool sweater; belonging to Frank Sinatra’s party one whirlwind evening when the Chairman of the Board sat most of the J. Press New York staff at his table in all the chic watering holes; belonging to the small group of people who have seen Dean Acheson in his underwear… Always, however, the thrill of this inclusion is in its exclusion of others: through codes of language, through the financial means required to pay for custom tailoring (for children who would grow out of it!); through social class. It is a privilege to read Richard Press’ writing, but it would be unwise to forget the privilege his rosy reminiscences required.

Comfort and ease in tailored clothing, then as now, only came at great expense. It does not surprise me that those physical Ivy shops of Providence, untouched by J. Press’s halo, withered and died. Threading the Needle includes Richard Press’s jabs at casualization. He bemoans it as a great swindle on us, depriving us of knowing what to wear, and requiring us to buy cheaper, junkier clothes at much higher margins than what honest traditional merchants like J. Press were and are selling us. But the reason Ivy is dead is because the class that wore this syncretistic American clothing, a dowdy bastardization of Britishness with Puritan formlessness thrown in, reflexively because it was what was done, and what was sold where one shopped, was quite happy to wear lighter, easier, less confining clothing as soon as they could shed the weight of Ivy, the dress code expectations that changed so radically from the 1960s onward, and quite happy to spend less on cheaper casual clothing than on expensive tailored jackets and ties whose silk had to be madder-dyed in England. You may see a few young people wearing a Harris Tweed jacket or seersucker sportcoat on a northeastern college campus, but they are all doing so with intentionality, the intention to recreate something that no longer naturally exists, populating an invented ecosystem with overthought clothing to which they associate a politics that was not at all certain to be associated with it in the days when so-called Ivy clothing was the norm on Ivy campuses.

Press’s essays even give us, in pieces, the narrative of what actually happened to Ivy Style. Once upon a time it was the norm on rarefied campuses of young gentlemen who might continue using the same tailor who had bench-made their clothes in high school and college once they graduated to Wall Street, like a Fitzgerald protagonist. The aftermath of World War II democratized (to a point) college enrollment through the GI Bill, leading many, many more people, of theretofore-unrepresented social classes, to attend college and adopt a similar wardrobe. (Another prep school teacher once informed us that Columbia University had simply called up his father after the war and asked him to attend, allowing him to climb the social ladder.) Innovations in production allowed factory manufacture of Ivy-style ready-to-wear garments as well, so that the increased number of people who wanted to wear Ivy could also afford to wear the Ivy look without having to pay the prices of artisanal one-off work. Ivy became widespread: Press uses the word “heyday” in the titles of several of his essays from this golden age when Ivy was the look. And every fashionable look has its end. Not only did fashions change, but social changes in the 1960s meant that homogenous dressing on campuses was at an end, particularly dressing like one supposed a white-collar grownup would in coat and tie. The 1970s’ upheaval in prep school dress codes broke the back of coat and tie for kids, dealing another blow to Ivy. The Ivy partisans Press evokes who wore it during those decades, doughty men, men of intelligence like Dick Cavett, of integrity like John Chancellor, were middle-aged men who had started wearing the same style of clothes decades earlier as students. (Even Frank Sinatra, who scooped Richard up to his bosom, only lasted nine months as a customer in the late 1960s before sending an emissary to tell Richard Frank no longer wanted to experiment with the Ivy look.) Ivy as a style worn by current Ivy Leaguers, or by American college students pretty much anywhere, no longer existed.

Decades later I, too, wear tweed jackets, but keep them clean (unlike the original Ivy population), and am not a parafascist reactionary (unlike some of the most visible latter-day Ivy practitioners). Savile Row tailors had to sacralize the concept of tweed for me, washing away all its associations of brown, smelly, shapeless and hegemonic, so that my garments in it, strange alpaca Shetland weaves or unthinkable lavenders, are as far from Ivy as possible.  Despite the awful Brown Daily Herald (for which I coined the motto “all the print that fits is news”) carrying a weekly News of the Ivies section, none of us felt any ineffable Ivy-ness. The closest I came to such a feeling may have been reading a cheesy story by Providence’s own H.P. Lovecraft, whose action suddenly shifted to the very room I was sitting in… or perhaps hearing a townie couple at a Spring Weekend concert by the very non-Ivy Violent Femmes mutter about how all the kids in the audience had good teeth.

I do not mourn Ivy, as I do not mourn the shops that died trying to sell it to the college populations that have moved on. I hope my housemate found what he was looking for in New Haven (I did successfully, and evilly, bullshit him into buying two Brigg umbrellas for his move there). Had I been him, no doubt I would have succumbed to some aspect of Richard Press’s winning fantasies, replaying the opening paragraphs of Franny and Zooey in my mind, wool-lined Burberry and all, in search of a possessions-linked romance that reality has no place for in this day and age, if it ever had.

[faustrinus]

Family (wolfstar)

Everyone has impulses. Like the sudden urge to eat ice cream or listen to a certain song- it depends. There are also different types of impulses, productive and useful ones and dumb ones, the ones that you know you will regret after doing it but you do it anyway.

Sirius has had a handful of dumb ones, maybe enough to start considering it as a part of his whole persona. But after running away from his family and receiving that not so delightful letter from his mother, something has been keeping him awake. 

We have removed you from the family tapestry. It read on the paper, big letters at the end assuring him that what he had done couldn't be undone, no turn back. It's not like he was interested in ever going back to that place, but knowing that he was eliminated from the most important thing the family had, a symbol of tradition and honour- although expected, it wasn't a nice feeling what invaded him. It was the total opposite.

Since he was young, his whole personality was the fact he was a Black. People didn't take the time to get to know him because they assumed all the members from the House of the Black were the same, cold and maniac pure-bloods. The first surprise was Sirius getting into Gryffindor and not Slytherin, but even like that people still had prejudices, sometimes he found himself sitting extremely straight, hearing footsteps and feeling panicked, or normalizing behaviour that was in fact... abusive and toxic. 

The marauders showed him a lot of things, helped him get better at being himself. 

But he couldn't show them all he wanted to, it was overwhelming to remember. That was why he didn't tell them about the letter or the words his own mother used to call him- that remained a secret, and it didn't feel right. Especially considering what he had in mind. 

A dumb impulse, one of the worst you could think of.

He had to get back to the Black house and confirm he was removed from the tapestry, he had to see it. One thing was reading it and having the benefit of the doubt and the other one was having it right in front of you. He had been planning since the letter arrived, writing at what hours he knew the family left the house, where Kreacher slept while he knew he was alone, the easiest way to enter, everything. He wasn't an organized person, but this was a matter of life or death.

If they saw him, they would kill him, no doubt. They were near to do it more times he was able to admit.

Now, going alone seemed like the perfect idea. He would go in, see the tapestry and then go, nothing more. But that house was not only that, it was hell, it brought memories so dark and terrifying that just thinking about being alone at that place made his heartbeat ten times faster. He needed someone around to stay grounded, at least somewhat peaceful.

James was too clumsy and curious, he would touch everything he was interested in or probably would try to hex something in the house as an act of revenge. Even without asking, he just knew Peter was probably too scared to go, and he wasn't going to force him.

Remus was a good option. He and Sirius had this weird more than friends thing going on- but it was fine, they were comfortable with it and their friendship remained the same, except for the kisses and couple stuff they were afraid to name. Remus could calm him and make him laugh even in the tensest situations. 

So it was Remus. 

He was there, reading peacefully as the sun hit the window. Maybe he was too concentrated to notice, but Sirius had been looking at him for more than twenty minutes without stopping.

Or maybe he did notice but was waiting until Sirius could gather all the guts he needed to say whatever was going on his mind. Remus was patient about it, he was conscious of how pressure could affect people, so he didn't do it. 

After five more minutes, Sirius finally got up from the bed, walking a little in many directions, nervous about how to explain the fact he needed Remus to offer him moral support while facing the trauma he had thanks to his parents. Not a very light to say. 

"You're okay, Sirius?" Finally, Remus asked, lowering his voice as he spoke, not wanting to bother anyone that was taking an afternoon nap, "You know I'm here for you, right?"

Sirius smiled, taking a deep breath. The crumpled letter found rest in his pocket, where he constantly played with it to distract himself, "Yeah, I know."

Remus nodded and turned back to finish his book, one of his hands tapping the space empty next to him, a sign from Sirius to sit down and maybe relax a little to talk better. He did. He sat and breathed a few times, Remus was taking it all so calm and normal that it made Sirius felt like it was something normal, something he shouldn't be worried about- it helped a lot the attitude the werewolf took to make him comfortable. 

"I need your help with something."

"What is it?" Remus closed the book, leaving it in a nearby coffee table they had to play table games. Sirius glanced at it, it was the third part of the novel the werewolf was reading- Sirius knew it because Remus couldn't stop talking about reading it, he was pretty quiet and sarcastic most of the time, but when it came about his favourite books, he could talk for hours.

"I need you to come with me to my house."

"Your house?"

"The Black family house."

As intuitive and perceptive as Remus was, he definitely didn't catch quickly what the shorter boy meant. He stared at him for a few seconds, wondering if what he heard was correct. 

"...Why? Didn't you run away from there?"

Sirius sighed, "Yes, I did, but-", he stretched out on the couch, trying to look casual, "I forgot something important."

"What?"

"Don't you think you are asking too many questions?"

Remus shrugged, "Well, what you are asking for is not the most normal thing, you know. You ran away from that place, why would you ever come back? and you were planning your escape from months, how did you forget something? it doesn't add up, Sirius."

"Yeah, I knoooow, but," Sirius looked at Remus, shiny eyes to convince him, "I need to go with someone."

"James?"

"Too clumsy and curious."

"Peter?"

"Too afraid."

"...Lily?"

"Oh, c'mon, Remmy."

"Fine", he mumbled while blushing thanks to the nickname, "But you have to tell me the truth."

"What truth?"

"Why do you want to go, because I don't buy any of the I forgot something bullshit."

Sirius got up the couch, ignoring whatever Remus said at the end, "Sounds great! We go tonight." And then he was out of the room, sprinting down the hallways without looking back not even once. Remus rolled his eyes and decided to take a nap, maybe that way the intrusive thought of what the hell Sirius was planning to do would stop bothering him.

The time at Hogwarts was different for every student. The younger ones were amazed by every little magic trick (especially the muggle-born students) and would love attending to their classes, perfect uniform and all the materials in hand. The older ones were... different, Sirius was the perfect example for it when he found himself searching for his favourite quill in an old trunk just minutes before he and Remus would leave the school to go to hell...willingly.

"Forgot something at the last moment again?" Asked Remus teasingly, in three steps he was already hovering over Sirius, analyzing the paper the boy had in his hands, "Is that a map of the house?... and a blank parchment?"

"It does say something, but it isn't important right now."

"You are keeping a lot of secrets lately..."

"Well, I'm not the one that was receiving love letters from a Hufflepuff girl last Monday..."

A huff left the werewolf's mouth, "It's not like we are together... couple kind of together."

"...Do you want to?"

As the words left Sirius's lips, a few voices could be heard walking into the common room, everyone was getting ready to go to sleep. It was the moment to take the invisibility cloak and get going before anyone could notice. They shared a resigned look like telling each other we will talk about it later. Sirius transformed into Padfoot and Remus grabbed the cloak, bending down to let the fabric cover him perfectly. Being tall wasn't that fun when you needed to be subtle.

They left the castle when the moon was already adorning the sky, realizing that a cold and silent night was giving them a not-so-welcoming embrace. They proceeded in silence until they reached Sirius' motorbike that was hiding in the woods. It was a birthday gift from James and of course, it had been intervened with magic. Remus absolutely despised flying in that thing, but he was already involved in the whole thing, wasn't he? the only option was going forward. So he breathed deeply and got on it, his chest against Sirius's back.

"I hope you got over your fear of flying."

"Make it quick or I'm going back to the school."

Did everything resemble a cheesy movie scene? It did. But Remus couldn't deny he felt comfortable as long as he didn't look down, and Sirius was a pretty good driver considering they hadn't died yet. Seeing the two of them like that made the werewolf understand that he was afraid of the word couple, but he wasn't afraid of being with Sirius, it felt natural, almost instinctive. 

If everything went well, maybe someday he was going to tell him he wanted them to be something official, with a name, with kisses shared in the back of the class and holding hands under the table.

"Almost there."

In a matter of seconds (or maybe minutes, being conscious of the time while you were holding onto the person you liked was hard) they were slowly descending into the dry land of Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Not a single soul was on the street when they finally touched the ground, and the only people at sight were silhouettes in the windows nearby, most of them doing stuff like watching tv or sleeping cosily in their partner laps.

"Here we are... The Honorary House of Black."

"It 's... dark."

"Yeah, don't expect a lot of bright colours."

As Sirius went up the stairs (wand in hand), his motion was almost automatic. A quick move and some whispered spells opened the door like it was the easiest thing in the world, it was at least for him- he was raised there, he knew all he needed to know about the old place.

"We have to be very quiet, just follow me."

Remus nodded while slowly closing the door and followed Sirius, trying to not get distracted by everything that was going on there. All the walls were decorated with big portraits of the family members, the Slytherin symbol all over the place. 

With each stair they passed, more tense Sirius felt. Tons of memories were coming back at the same time, reminding him that this was probably the last time he would go visit that house, or even get close to it. He didn't miss it, but the melancholy was still there.

One look at the tapestry and you're gone. Just one look, that was it.

"So...what do you think about it?" he asked.

"I don't know what I was expecting... but it wasn't this. You grew up here?"

"When you are a kid everything is a little bit scarier, but I got used to it. Now... It just seems normal."

"There are domestic elf heads on the walls-"

"That is not the worst."

With every portrait they left behind, Sirius started to get more nervous, grasping his wand as if his life was depending on it. Remus didn't have any idea on what to say, so he just stood closer, and when they finally reached the room that made Sirius gasp softly, Remus placed one of his hands on Sirius's shoulders, feeling the tension, "You're okay?"

"Yeah. This is what I wanted to see."

Remus followed the images in the tapestry. It was big and it was clear what it represented, the honour of the family. It had thousands of people the werewolf had never heard Sirius' name before, all of them looked... almost evil.

And where it read "Sirius Black" there was nothing. Just a mark, like as if it had been burned, the name was blurred and it looked like whoever did that did it with resentment.

"She really did that."

Remus arched an eyebrow, "You knew...?"

Maybe it was time for the secret to get out.

"My mom- Walburga sent me a letter a few days after I ran away. It said a bunch of disgusting things, but the most important one was this. She removed me from the tapestry," He muttered as his fingers touched softly the place where his face used to be, "The tapestry is a big symbol in the family, it has been here forever and I will probably be until the end of times. It's... kind of a big deal, so I wanted to confirm she actually did it." 

"How... do you feel about it?"

"Fuck's sake, Remus... I don't know. I never thought this would really happen, my whole identity was being a part of this atrocious family. I don't know who I am without the Black last name."

"You are better," He assured, now his both hands exerting pressure on the shoulders of the shorter boy, "You don't need a recognized last name to be something in life. You are you, and that's enough."

Sirius mumbled a thankful "you're the best" at Remus and took out the blank parchment he had before from his pocket, analyzing. 

"What is that for?" The werewolf tried to see something on the parchment, but it was still empty.

"Who is that for. Is for Regulus, he always comes here to see the tapestry."

Sirius placed the parchment on where his face used to be, sticking it with a spell, "He is going to read it before she can, I know it. And is going to make him hate me, because if he doesn't he is going to lose his mind here."

"Sirius..."

"I don't have a family anymore... well, maybe I never had one to start with, it's not a joyful feeling to be completely honest, but it's okay."

"You have us, we are your family." 

And we will forever be.

“Just… no more secrets.” “I promise.”

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

Witcher of the Night (Chapter 23.1)

I KNOW MY EDIT SUCKED. HEH. That’s my book cover in Wattpad. Couldn’t post CHAPTER 23.2 there because the application is glitching and I’m annoyed af. Anyway, enjoy this chapter for WOTN. 

CHAPTER 23

WOTN MASTERLIST

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: Maybe a witch isn't the key for your getaway because it could be deeper than that.

Warnings: The summary sucked. I couldn't write anything to avoid spoilers. LMAO. Curses. Tybalt and Geralt banter/hate for each other? 😂 Rohesia is my OC, not connected to any of the games or books. The witcher character named Gerd (AHA. I'VE INTENTIONALLY DID THIS. Surprised to see a stomach sickness used as a name lmao jk 😂) from the Bear school has been used. Bethleheigm is also a made up kingdom from moi. 😂 (Pronounced as Beth-le-haym)

Words: 4.3k

A/N: I know Kaer Morhen is located in Kaedwen. Damn it. I lately knew it when I was already half way through this fic and I can't change it anymore. Let's just say...oof. They'll eventually go there. Don't worry. Oop. Is it a spoiler? 😭

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE! Sorry for the grammatical errors and such because English isn’t my mother tongue! PLEASE LEAVE FEEDBACK AFTER READING, BB! I apologize for errors!

Disclaimer: PNG's and pictures used in edits are not mine even the GIF's too. (Credits to the rightful owners of the gifs, it’s written in the lower part of their gifs. Though, some don’t. Still, credits to them. If you want it to be removed, just kindly message me) The edits and this fanfic is definitely from moi. Character development and personalities are based from my understanding and how I want them to be. This has no connection towards the books or games.

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

DAY THREE CAME QUICKLY THAN WHAT WAS EXPECTED. Taking the shorter route to keep the proximity of hours easier for traveling back faster to Kaedwen. Geralt and Tybalt had an allayed journey towards the outskirts of Bethleheigm.

If a narrator was utterly dramatic, he or she could say that the witcher was beyond exhausted over being with the higher vampire because he only knew how to gall him over and over---a deathless cycle through out their travel, side by side with their own horses and vexation over each other. Yet, Geralt rarely has given him his energy for a battle that was pathetic as it ends.

They've both shared a night somehow. Their backs meters away from each other. With Geralt and his sarcasm never shutting one's eye until Tybalt was cursing him out under the moon light because the white wolf warned him not to think about hunting people to quench his thirst for blood. The higher vampire was left throwing him a pebble on his back and muttering how the full moon won't be until the day of the feast in the castle where he would technically celebrate over being a vampire but this choice could also be eradicated since blood was not in the highest scale in his pyramid law of needs.

Nights weren't the only thing shared between the two. Unbeknownst to them till Geralt was humming in displeasure, they've actually shared a drink of your home made ale. Tybalt commented how it was as good as Kaedwenian stout---perhaps, even better. Mentioning that the beer was probably made of your love for him which made the witcher scrunch his nose for how cheesy it sounded. Tybalt even declared numerical reasons as to why he kept you with him until today because you knew how to make his drunkard self swoon over your culinary skills.

Your cookery abilities were still different and utmost impressive than Geralt's regardless of how he has been used to embellishing his own food alone before. His midget's skills were technically amazing, add up the peculiar recipes that only you know---but, actually existed in earth---your earth. Those recipes that could get his family and him included, humming in deliciousness because it was new for their taste buds.

They were ought to arrive at the abandoned house today. Side by side, Tybalt and Geralt silently rode on their horses. Both of them fed up at the opposite of every presence that galled them to the brim. The witcher blurting out his opinions very frankly at the scowling vampire who was acting like he wasn't there along the hunt.

"You should've just stayed in the castle and played with your army stocks," Geralt grumbled as he held onto Roach's reigns. Tybalt's advancements for what he has done to you never leaving his memories when he clearly remembered the causes about why he was hating him more than to drown in a monster's stinking guts.

"I should've stabbed yer' horse while we were travelling---or feed off to er' horse blood," Tybalt clapped back, sending the remark in the nonchalant way as possible with a sarcastic raise of his brows.

"Leave Roach out of this,"

"Gods, yer' such a strange one, Witcha'!"

The witcher's scowl was as nasty as an Alghoul's bum. Tybalt seemed to be thoroughly embittered for even tagging along with a cold heart that was grudging to even join his hunt. If it weren't for the queen's request, he would never even be within Geralt's area of personal space. Howbeit, people have been trying to frustrate him even more with their sudden decisions erupting from either sides, like a dormant volcano that no one expects to explode.

Grey undertoned house. Ramshackled from the roof till the decaying roots of stones stuck in between their spaces. Close enough to be dilapidated if a wolf would've tried blowing the house down---though, the three little pigs weren't inside for it to hunt. They were closing in towards their destination, Geralt was anticipating this point of their journey; to immediately seek for the witch and to come back sooner than expected.

Yet, his anticipation burned in disappointment by the familiar look of the house rooted in front of them.

He'd heard stories about this abandoned home in Bethleheigm through drunk men in the Inns. They were having a tete-a-tete that it was a boobey trap made by homeless pirates who hadn't gotten back to shore, concealing the home as a place for them to steal one's belongings until they were ripped off their coins. Some tattled that the house was a dragon's nest where a woman lived in and disguised as one that Geralt knew entirely as a bullshit rumor because no dragons would dare pick to stay in the middle of a forest where the house was the only home built through out the map.

The witcher jumped off his horse, hushing Roach down with a soft caress to her mane because she'd begun to neigh.

Tybalt couldn't help but cackle from how he was affectionately eyeing the horse as if she was his other half, "---I wouldn't be surprised if ye' bring yer' horse with ye' while you bed yer' little woman!" he outlaughed and had a hand on his clothed stomach, shaking his head from the witcher's strange gestures with everything.

"Hmm."

Geralt gave him the side eye, endlessly shooting daggers since the moment they bonded together. His comment receiving a lour from the brooding white wolf because of the baldy judgement said.

"Yer' grumpier than usual---like ye' have been in a fight with yer' current flame---is it the tiny lass, anotha' one of your sorceresses or princess?" the Upir quipped with a smirk, hopping off his own horse before giving the house a look. He seemed to waver with a clear of his throat.

Geralt disregarded his ridicule and question with a blessed silence, his mood turning sour from even mentioning you. The weccan's golden eyes scanned all over the tumbledown house, his amber narrowing as he examined what was expected to be a necromage's hideout that he has heard from one of the drunk men's gossips in the inns.

"This abandoned house," he gruffly started beneath his baritone, harsh breathing as Geralt huffed for his disappointment over the founded location. The bind he had with you turning heavier as days go by like he knew you were turning into a melancholic person due to his faults. Hence, it was keeping him more insane than he can ever be because he always seem to offer only mistakes towards his people---where they end up getting hurt because of him.

Which wasn't new in his life.

"---There is no hag in here. Only a Necromage I presume."

Tybalt walked several steps to stop beside Geralt, shrugging his fur-coated shoulders with a curl of his upper lip, "I told ye' to take the longer route. Right path, Witcha'."

"And I told that you are bringing us both in an early demise because Golems and Downers are bound to get in our way,"

The higher vampire kept his mouth shut after that, his foot tapping on the ground before he received a subtle warning of Geralt's glare. The witcher was right about it. Basically, Tybalt was trying to stall over their journey because he knew what exactly was the stratagem kept for a clandestine truth bound never to be known.

Geralt pushed his peculiar fidgets away as it was still sounding so loud with his heightened hearing. He narrowed his eyes upon the engraved words carved inside the four corners of a mettalic flattened surface stuck on the grimy, stoned walls.

"Thou who shall take a step, requires a fee for entrance and something valuable to heart in order to talk with death,"

He silently read the words inside his head. Considering the requests before slightly pursing his lips, the ends looking like a frown but was actually just irrespective of what he was currently thinking. The ramshackle home being surrounded by an invisible strong force field shielded for not any normal man could trespass in without the rules asked. Another form of magic that he knew---though, this wasn't just any simple sign. It was created by sorceresses or wizards to safeguard the whole home for decades end, not risking anyone to touch whoever was inside, like it was keeping something from entering the place.

Geralt gave Tybalt a look while the vampire continued to whistle along the winds, his arms crossed in front of his chest whilst checking his awfully long nails, intentionally ignoring his companion until the witcher tried to grab onto a rock, strongly throwing the stone towards his head until Tybalt used his abnormal abilities, instantly dodging the stone coming forth and sprinting beside Geralt in just a second to see him nodding his head for his crackerjack skills that he seldomly uses.

"Coins." the white haired weccan roughly stated before he heard Tybalt huff and grumble from his demands, giving his palm to him and expecting for a bag of coins to be placed on his hands.

"You have your own, Witcher."

Geralt cocked his head to the side with a feigned smile, shaking his head, "My coins will remain untouched. I'm not risking mine for favors asked."

"Fuck you and yer' coins. I hope you feckin' go slow and die as soon as you're done with us,"

In the end, Tybalt eventually had to fish out a bag of crowns inside his coat, begrudgingly dropping them off on the witcher's awaiting palm who has shrugged his broad shoulders for his easy submission. The words to the engraved poster switching to dust, swirling through the air, changing into an arrow pointing at a brick where Geralt had to slightly touch for it to be pushed back.

Thorny, earthy tone colored vines snaked their way out of the hole. The brick of the old house never being seen as the roots formed a symbol of two palms sticking together like it was asking for alms. Geralt placed the coins on the makeshift hand, slowly slithering its way back to its home.

The house was alive. He was sure of that when he felt the aegis slowly fading away. Its stone doors cracking to slide open for them to enter.

Tybalt hasn't moved a step from his side. He returned to crossing his fairly muscled arms, hearing hasty pads of footsteps shuffling from behind as Geralt halfly turned to see a Hirrika panting on his side, yelping as a way of his bark towards the witcher who had his eyebrows furrowed in curiosity and stupefaction; stunned to see the familiar beast who has impressively found him despite of his long travel.

"Kolby."

"Your whore's feral pet," The Upir deadpanned, chuckling nasally like a sarcasm.

Tybalt heard a low growl coming the monster, his fangs shown to the vampire who he could sense and remember, his scent awfully making him remember how he'd hurt his master.

"Watch it." Geralt gruffly mumbled, giving Tybalt the side-eye as he tried monotonely hushing the rare beast like how he'd seen you soothe his annoyance or anger whenever Jaskier irritates Kolby.

"Down, Kolby. No teeth." he gruffly scolded with a raise of his palm.

The Hirikka chattered like a cat as he glared at Geralt's temporary companion, spinning on his own place before howling, his snout tilted at the sky as he yowled, the sound making him wince from how loud it was---too sensitive for his heightened hearing. Though, that didn't stop him from judging his gestures, noticing how he was jumping in his own spot whilst doe eyes stared back.

"He's saying something," the white wolf frankly stated, exhaling a languid breath through his nose because he couldn't understand what he wanted, "---Stay here and don't touch Roach or my Hirikka." he mentioned for Tybalt who appeared to be mentally finding their whole interaction as comedic. Geralt took a step forth, subtly leaving a pat on Kolby's head that eventually calmed him down, making him skip his paws to the side.

The Hirikka jumped to sit on his short tail, his knees bent and close to his chest as he silently watched Tybalt and Geralt conversing together with snarls and insensitive jests until the witcher finally moved away from him, bravefully entering the threshold.

"Where ye' going?" Tybalt called out and made him cease his steps, promptly giving the growling Hirikka his heed to see Geralt judging with his slightly entertained peepers, fighting off the curl of his lips because of how his Hirikka was making the higher vampire uneasy. He was agile but lacked knowledge over the beastiality of the continent. Probably, because of how he has been confined in the castle in an early age and known more politics and schemes more than the lore of monsters.

"To ask the Necromage about that witch,"

"Just like that?"

"She might know her whereabouts. Stay here if you don't want to get your vampire nails grimy,"

Tybalt cocked his head to the side, effusive of cursing out the witcher who had a smirk as he turned his back away from him, continuing his path around and ignoring his cavils.

"Why am I even following ye' around, Mutant?"

Geralt of Rivia entered the perimeters. His newly sharpened swords latched on his wide, broad back. Every step had his chest heavier than usual; bred-in-the-bone like he knew there was something happening to you back in the castle that he couldn't decipher and it made him scowl. The energy in the house even adding more of that deep-seated feeling---the home being cursed as well like some sort of magic was ceasing his advancements from talking to this person living inside.

The place wasn't ruined after all. It was all charmed and just a mere visionary trap or distraction that won't let people fall for even staying close to whoever was inside. Clean and utterly fixed, furnitures sat on their proper rooms which held up a second floor that Geralt didn't plan on exploring for as a presence could be felt while he stood in the middle of the kitchen.

"Hmm. Necromage,"

This person was a woman, Geralt silently stated the obvious inside his head. Her voice was tremulous and surprised to see a gigantuan man standing in the middle of her kitchen which she has never seen before in all her life.

"I am no Necromage," Rohesia calmly informed him, her heed turning distant from the mention, "She...has already died. Cristabell, My lady of the rarest in Bethleheigm---the only necromancer in this kingdom. May her soul rest in peace,"

"---You're the witcher." she paused, taking a gander and examining the white wolf before her. White hair falling on the tips of his shoulder blades. Gold eyes. A scowl prominent on his face. This was the witcher she has been warned about from both parties.

Geralt attempted a cynical smile, seeing that she held more lies and have been doing so for a lifetime, "There's no use of lying."

She was feeble. As old as Eanraig in terms of physical appearance but not his actual age since he was a scholar of the forest. The witcher held onto his medallion, seeming to feel no vibrations over his necklace that he strongly felt before the doors have been opened. His white and black spotted eyebrows furrowed for what singularity was happening.

This was supposed to be the Necromage. Yet, why does she felt human who had no magic to offer?

The hoary, old woman was not lying after all.

Rohesia forced to give him a small smile, walking past him to sit on one of the wooden, dining chairs. Gesturing her palm outwards for Geralt to take a seat that he simply answered with silence as he stood rooted on his spot, assessing what she truly was.

"I offer you no lies of secrecy. My mouth speaks nothing but the truth for I am just a mortal who thrives to live peacefully in the continent," she honestly answered his curiosity and judgements which made him nod at her uprightness---making his job easier for him.

The woman really was no necromage at all.

"A mortal who stands for her virtues. Hmm."

"Why are you here, Witcher?"

His glower was permanent even as he sauntered to where she was, standing upright and leaning a hand on the top portion of her dining chairs whilst he patiently explained.

"To find the hag who has cursed prince Althalos of Kaedwen."

Rohesia only offered a small, genuine smile. Her shaky laugh erupting through her chest because she knew this was the man who her former witcher and lover give fair warning to when the Kaedweni started their murdering plots upon fellow weccans who fall for their crimes. Vesemir never wanted to be involved with their delinquencies, explains his periodic leave in the kingdom---his constant visits for the woman seldomly occurring since Nilfgaard has attacked and conquered another domain after Cintra.

"Are you doing this because Vesemir has told you so?"

Geralt went on with his speechless talk, low humming followed suit for the flabbergast he felt over hearing his senior mentor in the art of their kind. The end of his lips subtly turning the opposite of a lour, relieved to suddenly hear his name through another person's mouth---a woman he probably had a relationship with; a former flame and mortal that Geralt least expect for Vesemir to entertain because of the conducts he had told him prior into becoming one skilled witcher.

It is that being involved with mortals and even having a soft spot in the job won't make them any better.

"Does he visit often?"

She ignored his question with a simple, wholehearted feeble laugh. Her circumvent obvious that Rohesia wanted not to talk about Vesemir after he has chosen to leave her for coins and another woman---another mortal years ago, thinking that because she aged badly was one of the reasons why he chose something better than to be with her. Hence, they were even known to be monsters of their own kind. Monsters who slay other beasts in exchange for coins. It was what she believed them to be---yet, she knew to herself that if Vesemir would come back to her, she would still accept him with all her mortal heart.

She dryly coughed, avoiding his eyes and covering her mouth with a tightened fist that Geralt quickly knew she was physically sick just by the looks of it.

"If you...still want to live and take your coin, turn back around and forget that you have stumbled upon this place forever."

The latter shook his head. Determined to find answers from this elderly human who knew his mentor and a fatherly figure he had been to his life. He believed Rohesia knew more than just Vesemir based on how she was trying to push him away.

"Where's the hag?"

"You cannot find the witch anywhere even out in Kaedwen, Geralt."

He was impressed. Geralt raised both of his eyebrows, pursing his lips with a tilt of his head that she knew his name regardless of not introducing himself yet.

"Vesemir has obviously told you more about me,"

She ignored his statement again, grabbing onto the ends of her dirty Tunic as she stood, saying her words firmly and with finality. Never knowing if her decision over dropping out hints would be good for her isolation from everyone---isolation and somehow imprisoned inside a house. The necromage being her sentinel, a guard given orders that she wouldn't escape and try to spill secrets that will ruin such plans. Howbeit, she still had high respects for Cristabell who had been too kind for her that she has brought Rohesia with her whenever she was out for some business.

"The witch you have been finding has been around the castle for decades."

Perhaps, it was time for the truth to set out free because Rohesia knew she had only weeks to live in the continent. Revenge pushing her through the decision she wanted for trying to keep her contained, watching her every move; ruining more of her wrecked life.

"I have been the queen's loyal servant. After she has given birth to Prince Althalos, he has already been cursed when he was a bairn." Pause. "---Sorceress Ingrith has managed to sneak into their quarters and cast the curse by whispering such spell and gaining a tiny drop of his blood. I've all seen her cantrips and heard them as I came back to guard the prince in his sleep. The wail of an offspring shall bring despair for the royal family,"

The sorceress' name felt like a crime to be told. Heaviness in her chest finally unleashing after decades of being caught up with the lies she was telling people who asked or went to gather information as to who has cursed the prince; finding the witch and ending up dying from the hands of her womanly guard. Cristabell recently died from the hands of the last witcher who she knew as Gerd, the necromage dying after their battle whilst she tried to fight for her cousin's trangression---continuing doing so for the sake of her selfish reasons.

"---She...she was also the king's mistress before the queen has given birth to Prince Althalos while she also gained her position. I may never know if it was made from jealousy over the queen's position. Though, it is their life that I promised to stay away from. Only sorceress Ingrith may reverse the curse or happen to know how,"

A beat of silence wrapped them both after Rohesia's candor. Geralt's mouth forming a deeper scowl than ever as he loudly sighed, languidly blinking in weary for being tricked by the sorceress and her right hand, Tybalt of Touissant. His jaw began to clench for who stood outside of the house, the higher vampire making him mad for leading him on circles---the cycle wouldn't have ended if he chose to go forth with his suggested path. It was why he was trying to lead him towards a swamp filled with monsters than the shorter route because the truth was with this rumored woman.

"Should've known."

He deeply grumbled begrudgingly, blaming himself for not thinking it through. His time wasted for you to be saved and taken out of the palace. If only he wasn't as pale as Ivory, his face would've been empurpled with fury for what they've made him appear to be---an idiot or for whatever bullshit they can call him.

"You're coming with me..." Geralt deeply said before he was cut off to her introduction of name.

"The name's Rohesia, Witcher."

He nodded back to the lady, going on with his ceased sentence with solicit, "---Back to the castle,"

Rohesia saw him walk closer to her, face to face with the infamous butcher she has heard tales about. The butcher of Blaviken who has managed to slaughter goons of Princess Renfri's hooligans and also earning another moniker of being a butcher of Ard Carraigh. Kaedwen's capital. The name would eventually spread throughout his kind because of how Kaer Morhen was close by. Her eyes catching onto the badge latched on the rain-guard of his sword.

"I have been told to never step foot again or I shall be put into death,"

"Do I need to beg for your compliance and offer protection?"

"What's in it for you and me?"

The witcher deeply sighed, shifting his amber away from her as Geralt looked withdrawn, his next words sounding like a mumble, dubious of his own bluntness. Disbelieving that he could hear his own voice say the words like an echo of his consciousness.

"You get to save the castle from anguish," pause. "---and you get to save the life of someone dear to me,"

"A woman I assume---your woman," Rohesia sounded so surprised, staring him down in incredulity, "---Is she royal? another sorceress too? a mutant?"

"A mere...mortal," he hesitated to honestly say, his eyes filled with a memory he truly can't forget. Your skeptical voice stuck inside his head when he remembered the first time he met you till the moment you told him how you suited to be a queen.

Geralt clearly remembered his reaction and teasing reply. Telling you how you suited more to be called a midget. His midget. Yet, now you were being treated like his queen where he would kiss the ground you walk on no matter how in denial he gets.

"---Perhaps...a queen to her kingdom in her rightful dimension," he was caught in his train of thoughts, never seeing the stupefaction in Rohesia's eyes over what dimension he meant---having no clue for his words. She could see what Vesemir once was like until life has ruined everything for her, including the sorceress corrupting and controlling the people and castle of Kaedwen.

"Learning to love doesn't suit your kind, Witcher."

"It's because it isn't what you think it is."

Rohesia shook her head for his lies, he was thoroughly unaware of the feelings sipping through his words once he mentioned you. This witcher believed that he wasn't capable to love nor emit feelings just like how her previous lover have been. A typical characteristic of his own kind. Denial and the feeling of being unworthy of recognizing such emotion was making him sound insensitive. But, people who could read others can see through him regardless of how he tries not to, "Deny it all you want. To us humans, it is. Love as many people assume."

"---you're still human after all. As far as I believe for your kind, Geralt of Rivia. Sorceress Ingrith might be glad to see me again soon---I hope."

Don’t hesitate to message me if you don’t want to be included in the taglist anymore, bb’s. I won’t be mad. Thank you. 

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[shewantedtobeasecretgirl]

10. Bathroom wall (Part Three) a.k.a. a queen bee, Prince in the shower and a backup Casanova

In the previous parts: The bunch spends a free evening in a bar, where local girls are trying to get closer to the band members. Dave suggests Jeff that he should make Judy jealous but she’s too busy with being outraged about a girl named Claudia dancing with Stone. Finally, Claudia backs down; after a fight with Stone, Judy reveals to Karrie, that her made-up stories about Stone had to do something with her reaction. In the meantime, Mike is feeling sick and refuses Karrie’s advice to take his health issues more seriously. She also shows him pictures of Effie but Mike’s evening ends with a surprising twist. Judy tries to calm down with the help a relaxing shower but she gets unexpected company in the common bathroom… 

@shadowsonoureyes I think I almost completed your drabble challenge 😉

“I got a lion in my pocket and baby he's ready to roar…”

God, I wish this was only a nightmare and I woke up suddenly realizing nothing of this madness has happened actually, maybe I could even laugh at the whole setting. But now, laughing is the last thing I feel like doing, I’ve been standing here since who knows when, I’m freezing, I wanna finish my shower, I wanna dry myself, I wanna get out of here… this with the lots of “wannas” sounds like some random lyrics of The Ramones… But as things stand at the moment, I’ll grow old and die here because this skinny hippo has been splashing beyond the wall for at least fifteen minutes, performing the longest and most inconsistent mix of Prince songs ever, deliberately altering the lyrics, changing the range of lines or even skipping some of them whereas repeating other ones infinitely like a broken record player.

“You got the horn so why don't you blow it…”

Actually, I’ve even started playing with the idea of turning the water on again, maybe this capybara enjoys listening to his own voice enough not even to hear it. But no, that’d be too risky. But I could definitely get rid of the shower gel bottle to be able to rub along my body against cold, I’ve been squeezing that little plastic flask at full strength since he entered here, as if it could help me become invisible. I slowly stoop to place it on the ground in the corner feeling like a compromised spy who’s ordered to put her weapon down without making any suspicious or ambiguous move; but due to the slippery surface under my soles I lose my balance and as I catch towards the wall to prevent myself from falling I drop it… and it lands with a loud crash in the metal shower tray. Fuuuuck… I freeze immediately and perk up my ears holding my breath trying to figure out if he heard it too… of course he heard it, it was as ear-splitting as a rocket launch but maybe he was too distracted and…

“Is somewhere there? Who’s that?”

He heard it…

“Who’s that? Scully? Is that you? Don’t be so shy, we’ve known each other for ages, I’ll even wash your back if you need help…”

Okay, Judy, you can’t hide any longer, you have to find out something, anything… what if I just ran out with a battle cry and grabbed my towel and… okay, maybe something more discreet would be more adequate.

“Scully? I’m coming over…”

“NO!!!” I scream.” It’s not Scully… it’s me… Judy…” I manage to reveal my identity only for the third attempt since my voice won’t obey and insists on sounding comically high-pitched. “And thanks but I’d skip the offer, I can reach my back.” Jesus, I don’t know why I’m babbling this, it’s like…

“Oh… I didn’t know it was you. Actually, I thought I was alone, you were so silent… I couldn’t even hear the water running at you…”

“Because… because… it wasn’t running since… it’s a part of my shower routine, I begin it with hot water then I turn it off and stand a few minutes until I start feeling I’m freezing, this method works wonders on the blood circulation…” I basically yell the end of my bullshit excuse since I turned the water on in the meantime to finally put an end to this awkward situation. Unfortunately, when I turn it off, I can hear he’s still humming, seriously, how much time does he need to dry his balls?

“Anyway… you were right.” he speaks up out of the blue.

I was right? Meaning what? You’re a pervert? You’re a bitch who would bang everything that moves?

“The acoustics in this room are truly excellent.”

You don’t say…

‘I’m flattered by the fact that once in a blue moon you are willing to agree with me. And, uhm, I’m ready with my shower and as you’ve probably already noticed, my towel is hanging on the wall on the other side so… so I’d feel honored if you left…”

“If I left?”

Yes, I mean get the fuck out you pig, you heard it well.

“Why would I leave? I want to enjoy these fascinating circumstances a little bit longer…“

I should have known this wouldn’t be easy, this must be like a dream come true for him: holding me hostage, taking advantage of my miserable situation…

“But seriously, just listen: I really get a dirty mind whenever you're around… Awesome!”

I roll my eyes so hard that I can see my own frontal lobe… Being forced to listen to Stone’s falsetto serenade while being butt naked, fuck, I didn't know what I was missing in my life until now.

“What do you want? Should I sing a fuckin’ duet with you for my freedom?”

“That’s not a bad idea, actually… what about Together Forever by Rick Astley?” I hear him snapping with his fingers and giggling at his brilliant idea.

“Well, the performance of Under Pressure would sound more honest from my mouth right now…”

“You’re just so negative, nothing can please you today seemingly. But as a sign of my generosity, I’m ready to give you that towel.”

How can a voice be so irritating? This nasal tone with the mannered Northwestern accent makes sound everything what he says extremely annoying, I could punch him even for citing the headlines of a newspaper.

“Ha-ha, very funny, Gossard. But let’s skip your cheap tricks and move your aaa…self out of here.”

“Cheap tricks? I don’t think there’d be anything interesting to see here, plus, you’re forgetting about a very important factor: I’m out here wearing a towel whereas you are in there wearing nothing so it is me who makes the rules. But, again, I’m a genuine guy so I give your towel to you, all you have to do is to ask me.” the pain in the ass goes on with his rant.

“Okay. GIVE ME THAT FUCKIN’ TOWEL!” I scream angrily stomping of helplessness.

“Why do you have to be so rude? You’re hurting my sensitive soul all the time; if you want me to cooperate, you have to be kind and ask me nicely.”

Once I get out of here, I’m going to fuckin’ kill you, I swear, I’m going to kill you ten times, I’m going to kill your reincarnated bodies too even if you will be reborn as a cute kitten or a baby giraffe…

“GIVE ME THAT FUCKIN’ TOWEL! Please?” I yell again and append a fake, cheesy appeal to my words.

“You see? It sounds immediately completely different.” he snickers satisfied.

“Okay, but we have to clear the logistics first. I think the least awkward way would be you standing facing the door, handing the towel backwards to me and I would reach out for it and…”

“Do you really think I wanna peep?” he asks with amused smugness in his voice.

I do? I don’t? Shit, there’s no right answer to this question, I mean, I’m not interested in him at all, I don’t care what he might think about my look, my body, I don’t even know whether he would think anything at all or he’d just act neutrally like I wasn’t a woman or human at all but fuck, I’m a human, I’m a woman, I could be the possible subject of a guy’s interest too and when I mean “a guy” I don’t think necessarily about him although he’s a guy too…

“I don’t give shit about what you want, what I want is to minimize the level of my retinal damage by not seeing your face, so please do me a favor, turn away from me and give me that goddamn towel.”

By the time I’ve finished the sentence, a pale body with something bright blue at waist-level appears on my horizon with funny side-sliding steps. He’s standing with his back to me, as far as I can judge it even without my glasses, my assumption is only based on the dark trail of his hair on his back. Or he’s an aberrant psychopath who covered his face with his hair to deceive me. He pulls my towel off the wall… okay, that means he’s truly facing the opposite wall unless his shoulders are especially flexible… damn, he reaches it backwards to me lifting his arm to the same height… I’m still not sure about his exact posture…

I slowly walk to the edge of the shower tray, hesitating for a few seconds which one of my body parts I should keep covered before reaching out for it. With a deep sigh, I opt for my breasts and try to grab my towel but there’s still almost a one-yard distance between our hands.

“Stone… you’re too far… could you come closer?” I moan in agony.

“Interesting… until now, you wanted me to go away and now you’re asking me the opposite. Or you’re just trying to trick me into touching you and then get me arrested for sexual assault… no, Camden, I don’t buy it. Anyway, walking backwards is dangerous, what if stumble and fall and break my neck? It’d be safer if you came out of your hiding place, you can’t spend the rest of your life there when I’m gone, I don’t care…”

I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve this but I obviously have no choice… I approach him with sneaking steps while terrible thoughts are chasing each other in my mind… What if he can rotate his head 180 degrees like owls? What if he’s got extraordinary eyes like chameleons and due to his particularly developed peripheral vision he can see basically everything around him?

As I finally touch the terry cloth fabric, I immediately tear the towel out of his hand and wrap it around myself. His arm swings automatically back to his body as if it was pulled by a spring and while I pull back into my shelter to dry all my body parts, he keeps standing at attention on the same spot.

“Ahem… I’m ready so… you can go…” I make an attempt to get rid of him.

“You’re not a quick learner… and you’re pretty ungrateful… I haven’t heard the magic word yet.”

I can’t believe this. And I can be grateful to him for not humiliating me even more…

“Thanks…” I mumble.

“I didn’t understand it… it’s strange, the acoustics in that corner must be different, it absorbs sound waves…”

“Thank you, Stone Almighty Gossard, nothing could express my eternal gratitude, you’re my savior, I’d be nothing without you, from now on, I’m your slave!!!” I shout paying special attention to my articulation.

“Could you hear the echoes too? Much better.” he clicks with his tongue satisfied and disappears from my sight with the same hilarious moves he made earlier. “Good night, Judith, and if you happen to have erotic dreams this night, please keep them for yourself, I’d feel embarrassed if you told me about it…” he adds and as I open my mouth for some snarky retort, I hear the door slamming.

Finally. This… prick is just unbelievable, after his performance at the bar he thinks he did me a favor by not behaving a like a perv? And erotic dreams? Come on, I’d rather puked myself to death of his sight.

I have to use the awkward choreography I invented earlier to get back to my stuff I left on the chair, although I myself don’t really understand either, why, I’m alone after all... As I lean down for my glasses, my fingers reach out for… nothing. They’re gone! I grope the whole chair along… still nothing! I put down the shower gel bottle and try to crouch down to check the floor under the chair, which is not easy to do at all without exposing my intimate body parts. I keep adjusting the towel with my left hand while I try to scan trough every inch of this goddamn place with the other one and I’m about to drop the freakin’ towel when I hear a weird noise from behind my back. Snorts… silent snorts… like someone was suppressing laughter… oh shit. That moron, that son of a bitch… he’s Satan, I told it.

I straighten up as fast as I can, I can only hope he didn’t see my backside or my nipples or… why can’t I die here and now without more suffering?

As far as I can see him without my spectacles, he’s leaning against the sink and checking me out with folded arms.

“Taking away my glasses? That’s the most creative idea you could find out? Seriously, where are we, in third grade maybe?” I attack him but in the meantime I realize I should calm down, seeing me being upset is probably his favorite entertainment. “Okay, Gossard, go ahead. I don’t know why you crafted this vicious plan with trapping me here, taking away my glasses, stalking me… let’s get over with it, whatever you want…” I shrug resigned.

“Firstly, I didn’t know you were here, I just came in since I have the right to have a shower too. Secondly, I have nothing to say to you, it is you who should talk.”

“Me? Do you think I want to have a chit-chat with you here and now? Are you completely nuts? Just give back my glasses and get out of here!”

“Well, that has a price.” he answers irritatingly slowly, I can hear clearly he’s grinning.

“Is this a blackmail?” I scream outraged.

“Why do you have to use always such tough words? It’s a… mutually beneficial offer. You want your glasses whereas you also owe me an apology and I’m ready to accept it.” he explains with fake generosity.

“I’m not gonna beg you, you idiot.” I hiss between my teeth and grab towards his hands but I’m not fast enough to catch him off guard. He raises his arm high before I could get my property back and smiles down at me with a smug expression.

Does he want me to bounce like a puppy? Well, I won’t. Actually, the only possible weapon that comes to mind is as childish as his stupid little trick but the end justifies the means… But I have to be quick since my one hand is busy with keeping the towel around my body and I don’t want to grope him for too long time either. But he didn’t leave me any other choice, unfortunately.

“Fine, Stoney…” I pretend giving in. “You’re right. So listen to me carefully because you’re not going to hear this from me too often…”

“I’m all ears.” he spreads out his free arm.

Piece of cake.

“Sooo…” I approach him cautiously “Stoney, I just want to say… TICKLE ATTACK!!!” I yell and poke my fingers between his ribs.

The effect is beyond expression. He immediately doubles over letting out a wide range of animal sounds and it only takes a few seconds to tear out my spectacles of his hand maintaining the offensive with my other hand.

“Ha, victory!”I yell chuckling at his convulsion but as I hear a weird noise over his whining, I immediately stiffen. “What was that?”

“What’s… what?” he asks still groaning.

“Didn’t you hear that? I think someone slammed the door…” I stutter as I place my glasses on my nose. “And that means someone had opened it before… and maybe saw us…”

“Bullshit. And even if it happened as you think, all that could be seen was you committing sexual harassment on me so…” he smirks sassily leaning back against the sink.

What an obnoxious asshole. And he’s also wearing flip-flops, which I’ve always hated on men, seriously, I could slap him with them…

“Sexual harassment? I would rather jump on a male tapir than engaging into an erotic intermezzo with you!” I tuck my hair nervously behind my ear.

“You and a tapir? I wish I could see the offsprings…” he keeps grinning and flips his wet hair back… actually, it’s surprising, usually, he’s not a big hair washer. A tiny waterdrop is swinging on the end of one of the dark strands that are wavier than usual, this must be their natural state… then the drop slowly falls on his shoulder and follows the line of his collarbone, changing direction at his neck only to gain momentum and now it’s pulling a trail along his flat stomach and…

“Ahem…” he clears his throat “shall we go? Or do you want to examine my naked body for a while?”

“Let’s go” I start like I was waking up from a dream and I can feel my cheeks are burning for some mysterious reasons. “But you go first, I don’t want to make myself ridiculous in front of more people tonight.”

“Okay, okay…” he walks out with lazy reluctance. “All clear!” he shouts and I put my head out of the door to check he’s not trying to trick me again. How can he walk so leisurely, isn’t he bothered by the fact he’s almost naked? And why did he wrap that towel so tightly around his waist that it shows every curve of his…body parts…?

“Do you want to spend the night in there?” he suddenly turns back and I can only hope I managed to look away fast enough.

“No… no…I’m coming…” I mutter and follow him in duck walk, squeezing my toiletry bag.

He stops at his door and leans with one shoulder against the door jamb, of course he wouldn’t miss out my clumsy performance.

“Wow, gracious. You were born to the catwalk.” he giggles.

“Shut up or I scratch your eyes out!”

“Okay-okay but I hope we can agree that we’re even.” he waves an imaginary white flag.

“We are. And I say now good night before you happened to die under unclear circumstances.”

“Good night, Miss Hundred Pounds of Concentrated aggression.”

His audacious grin mellows into a boyish smile and I don’t know if I am only hallucinating or for a fragment of a second, he scans me from head to toe…

He pushes himself away from the wall and disappears in the dark room, leaving me frozen in the hallway. I stumble back to my room and I plop down on my bed. But what was that stare? He was probably just mocking me as usual, he’s surrounded by beautiful girls and he must find my dwarf body structure ridiculous. But he said we’re even… I stare at the toiletry bag on my lap, although I didn’t turn on the light, its pattern is clearly visible in the street lights filtering through the torn curtain. Musical notes, treble keys… wait. He claimed he didn’t know it was me in the shower. But who else in the bunch would have a bag with these motifs? He knew it was me. He knew it and he still came in. He wanted to humiliate me, it wasn’t just an embarrassing coincidence. Stone Gossard, we’re everything but even.

***

„These piggies are so cute.”

“Yes, they are totally adorable.” Layne agrees observing them with a tender smile. “Look at their mom, how patiently she’s bearing as they’re pestering her… geez, some of these little fuckers are pretty aggressive… look at that one!”

He points at a spotted piglet which is the greediest in the bunch; I don’t know much about domestic animals, I can only guess he’s a tiny boar. He’s tossing away all his siblings to get free access to his mther’s teats and even after he gets one of them, he keeps her poking with his power outlet-shaped nose. Well, moms are the most patient creatures on earth, I’m sure I’ve caused a lot of trouble to mine too…

“I wonder if we can stroke them, their hair seems to be so fluffy…”

“A bit later, now it’s mealtime. Their mother is very protective of them, she would bite your fingers off… I think she’s going to pass out in a few minutes, you can try to grab one of them while they’ll be playing around her.” the farmer-looking guy answers. He can’t be much older than us but he speaks in a slow, prudent manner, which makes him sound like a grandfather. He must be an employee of this place… whatever this place is…

“Effie would love them.” Layne remarks, still fascinated by the nursing process.

Effie? Layne knows Effie? Interesting.

“Is she here too?” I stutter confused.

“Of course, dude, you bought her here, remember?” Layne glances at me and raises one eyebrow.

“Really? And where is she know?” I scratch my chin still not understanding how she got in the picture.

“She stayed in the house. She was interested in the greenhouse and the gardener happened to be there, you couldn’t drag her away from the orchids. Seriously, Mike, are you stoned our what? You should take more care of your girlfriend if you want to take this thing between you seriously.”

Girlfriend? Effie is my girlfriend? Okay, that sounds strange too not that I want to complain…

“And… what’s that house you mentioned?”

“Shit… I’m not gonna help you out with weed ever again, this stuff has obviously terrible side effects on you, you’re like a drunk goldfish. Hey, Jer, tell to this asshole where we are!” he shouts at his approaching bandmate.

“Estamos a la hacienda Cantrell, hombre! This my ranch! And in a few hours, we’ll be eating the best food you’ve ever tried, Consuela is the most badass cook in the entire world! But we have the whole afternoon, I want to show you my new golf course, we could even play, I have tons of golf clubs, I can lend you one of them…”

Wait, something’s wrong here. I know they have their share of success because of this Seattle madness too, not that they don’t deserve it, they are a fuckin’ amazing band but I never knew Jerry had a ranch, I mean, it must have cost a buttload of money and however much I like him, I must admit he’s not that type who prefers savings to poker, dope and strippers.

“How… how long have you owned this… this huge farm?” I wave around clumsily trying not to sound too stupid.

“For like… ages…? Hahaha, man, I know my beautiful maids drive every man crazy, that was my point when casting them and choosing their uniform. But you can’t complain either, I checked the little blondie out, nice catch! That cola bottle-shaped body, damn…” the skirt-chaser underlines his words by drawing the mentioned contour in the air flashing a filthy grin. I don’t like this tone, I don’t like the idea of Jerry talking about Effie or looking at her, fuck, I don’t even like the idea of any member of Alice In Chains staying in the same state as her for more than three seconds.

“But first, we have to choose the dinner. Which one do you want?” the guitarist nods towards the pigpen and knowing his dirty humor, I’m not sure whether he refers to any food-related or he’s called hookers or what?

“How… how do you mean?”

“Mike, this is definitely not your day, just pick one!” Layne giggles glancing amused at his bandmate.

“But… what?” I still don’t get where this whole thing is going.

“Geez man, okay, I”ll do it for you. Come on, little dudes, it won’t hurt, I promise you!” Jerry leans over the fence and grabs two piglets by the skin around their neck.

“No, no, are you trying to say we’re gonna eat them? No, never, this is the cruelest thing I’ve ever heard, you can’t…” I protest shocked but the asshole doesn’t give a shit about me and carries the two victims under his arms to the pickup standing close to us. He ignores the desperate squeals of the poor little things: he throws them in the truck bed and climbs after them.

“Jerry, where are you going? You can’t… stop, don’t do that, man!” I yell almost crying but he just keeps laughing with that typical, pedophile Santa Claus laughter of him.

“What do you think, for what purpose do I breed them? They are cute and all but just think about a crispy, red, roasted pig spinning on a skewer over the fire… yummy… Consuela has a secret recipe, it’s delicious. I takes hours to prepare it, though, but I think I can keep myself busy until then, you know, that blondie is waiting only for me…” he winks and I catch to my stomach. Effie… Jerry… no, that can’t happen, I think I’m going to vomit, Jesus, this is terrible…

He pats the side of the truck bed twice, signaling to the driver that he can start the engine.

“Yes dude, until the pork gets ready, I’m gonna bang Effie… bang Effie… bang Effie… bang Effie…”

His words get mixed with the squealing of the piglets and the roar of the engine and the terrible sounds keep echoing in my head distorted by the Doppler-effect until the car disappears on the horizon.

“Bang Effie… bang Effie… bang Effie…”

…

I wake up with a start. My heart is beating so fast that it almost rips my chest, the blanket is soaking wet of my sweat, even my hair is stuck to my head and neck. This was the worst nightmare I’ve had in the past years… wait… if it was a dream, why can I still hear the snorts?

I slowly turn my head in the direction of the sound and suddenly, everything falls into place. The girl with whom I spent last night is snoring next to me… Her red lipstick and black eyeshadow is smeared all over her face making her look like a slutty panda bear and the little stream of drool in the corner of her mouth makes it even worse. Thus passes worldly glory… not that I have any right to criticize her look, I must look like crap too and honestly, I also feel like that. My head is about to explode, my intestines are burning… but I can only blame myself and that bottle of pure vodka we consumed last night together. At least the sex was satisfactory... yes, satisfactory is the best term, not more, not less. The beginning was creepy, though, with those weird outbursts of her about her nonsense prohibitions… I mean, who the hell wants to do stuff like that? Poor girl, she must have had hard sexual experiences. But that cowboy roleplay could have been even good with the hat and slight bondage elements and all… but her exaggerated behavior kept it in conditional. After all, we both got what we wanted and I don’t have to feel guilty. I didn’t force her, she offered, I just played along… it was basically her who fucked me. I don’t know if it had anything to do with me being the guitarist of Pearl Jam but even if it has, come on, is that really such a terrible crime if the “also ran” member of the band takes advantage of his situation once in a blue moon? The girls are never cueing in front of my hotel door, I deserve to have blast when a rare occasion occurs for some mysterious reason. And I don’t owe anyone any explanation, the guys and Eric are not my chaperones, I’m a single guy with needs and I can’t live in a fantasy world for good, pathetically sobbing after someone I haven’t even met yet, right?

Hydration. That’s the first thing I need right now. The only problem is that she’s sleeping with her limbs spread in four different direction and her left arm happens to rest on my chest. Shit, I wish I had left after we finished it as I always do after one-night stands, it spares both the girl and me awkward morning scenes, these things are not about romance, anyway. But this time the sex was intense and the booze was kick-ass so we both must have passed out after getting on top.

I try to slide out of the bed basically in horizontal position placing the pillow on the same spot where my upper body used to be hoping she’s sleeping deeply enough not to notice the change. I freeze when she lets out a few louder snorts after my maneuver but after a few satisfied smacks, she calms down and keeps snoring. I tiptoe around the bed to collect my clothes and I found all of them except my boxers… fuck, she must be lying on them. After a few seconds of hesitation I get dressed without them, they’re clean since I didn’t have any “accident” yesterday so trying to get them back is not worth risking.

I silently walk out in the kitchen and immediately spot a few bottles of mineral water on the counter… but taking one of them would be stealing, right? But if I turned the water on, she might wake up… I open all of the cupboards until I find a larger glass and turn the water tap cautiously until a thin spout starts running from the pipe. It takes a while until I fill the glass with this method but I gulp the content of it with one breathe in a blink of an eye.

My rumbling stomach directs me to the fridge, even if I don’t want to take anything, I can check its content, right? The cool breeze feels unbelievably good as I lean into it… let me see… further bottles of water, some milk, a piece of moldy cheese which probably isn’t supposed to be moldy, expired yogurt and a bunch of bananas. Shit, banana is my favorite fruit, the best resource of potassium and I’m dying to eat one. But I decided not to steal anything… but come on, it’s only a banana.

As I’m about to leave the crime scene, I notice a notepad and a pencil on the table. Maybe… maybe leaving a note would be a polite way of giving an explanation for what I did, right? Yeah, that’s it! Okay… “Dear…” Fuck, what was her name? Clarissa… Claudette… CLAUDIA! “Dear Claudia,” Shit, this is going to be harder than I thought… should I thank her for the sex? “thanks for the evening. I didn’t want to wake you up so…” so I ran away like a coward “I decided to say bye in this note. I was really hungry so I served myself with a banana.” and last night I served you my banana, Jesus, I’m a gross pig. “Sorry for doing it without asking, as an apology, I drew you another one.” I try to sketch the schematic picture of a banana but it looks like a nonfigurative or even phallic symbol from any possible angle. Shit, I can’t leave it like this. Luckily, the pencil has a quality eraser on the top so I can make the terrible scribble disappear and correct the message. “I drew you the only thing I can draw:” I close my eyes to recall the logo I’ve copied everywhere more times than anything else… “KISS” at least I can still do it… I go over the message again, I think it’ll do the trick. “I wish you the best, Mike”. I stop in the kitchen door on my way out. Even a KISS logo can’t undo a theft. I should offer her some compensation… I walk back and grab the pencil again. “Ps. Next time we come to Charlotte, I’ll invite you for a coffee.” But what if we bump into each other anywhere else? “Of course I also invite you in case we encounter anywhere else.” Okay, ‘Cready, you don’t have to write an epistle, you don’t have to surpass Tatiana, just leave finally before she wakes up. But what if… what if she doesn’t like coffee? Now that I glance around, I can see no coffee machine here… “Ps2. In case you don’t like coffee, my offer applies to tea or soda too, of course.”

Okay, enough, she won’t even notice, who the hell takes inventory about bananas? I shake my head, take a deep breath and sneak out of the apartment.

***

Coffee. The first thing that comes to mind in the morning. I know I drink way too much coffee but caffeine addiction is sort of an inevitable outcome if you’re a rock musician at nights and an espresso guy at daytime. Of course the receptionist or janitor or whoever confirmed my initial aiming: this shitty motel doesn’t sell any food or drinks apart from the broken vending machine in the corner of the lobby. He also said I can take all of its content if I manage to fix it. No, thanks, the late seventies-looking chips bags with their probably fossilized content aren’t particularly tempting.

I’m heading to the bistro on the other side of the street, it’s probably not much better than that place but a coffee without hair in it and a decent breakfast would already satisfy my needs. On entering I must admit, the smells are better than expected and as soon as I take place in a booth, a polite waitress appears at the table handing me a menu and producing a cup out of the blue. She immediately fills it with the hot beverage I was longing for. A cigarette would feel good with it too but there’s no one around I could grub from…

I’ve taken only a few sips of my precious drink when I see a familiar hat appearing at the entrance and in a few seconds, its owner plops down opposite me, munching a banana.

“The prodigal son has returned, huh?” I remark with a wide grin.

“I know you missed me, just admit it.” he answers with a deadpan. “God, I’m starving…” he grabs the menu and begins to study it.

“A coffee, sir?” the waitress emerges again and spills coffee in his cup too without waiting for the answer. “What can I get for you?” she inquires helpfully as she pulls a small notebook with a pen out of the pocket of her apron.

“One Aspirin and a bullet in my head, please.” Mike groans with a dark face.

“Excuse me sir?”

“Give us a few more minutes, please.” I try to send a “don’t ask” signal with my eyes and it seems to work because she leaves with a confused nod.

“The last time I saw you, you felt sick. But somehow you must have resurrected like a phoenix from its ashes since you were out all night… so… go ahead.” I lean back but my bandmate is avoiding my gaze, turning his head around like he was distracted by the interesting furniture of the diner.

“Look, it’s Judy over there!” he shouts pointing at the counter.

“Mike… no… please…” I groan in pain but it’s too late.

“Hey Jude!” he shouts and waves frantically.

Great… I bury my face into my palms.

Unfortunately, Mike comes to the brilliant idea of stretching his leg along the seat he’s sitting on while she’s approaching us; so by the time she gets to our booth, her only option is sitting down next to me. Which she isn’t willing to do, she’s just sending reproving looks at me until I realize the reason of her reluctance is my right arm on the backrest. When I remove it, she slides in the booth as far from me as possible, she’s probably sitting with half butt on the air.

“Hi Judy.” Mike greets her pulling his small metal flask out of the inner pocket of his jacket.

“It’s six o’clock in the morning, you’re not having vodka.” she tries to tear it out of his hand without even greeting us.

“Easy Jude, it’s empty, okay? It’s just a bad habit that I keep checking it.”

“Anyway, I doubt he would begin the day with spirits, seeing he was drinking the whole night…”

“What?” she screams outraged.

“Jesus, are you blind? He’s, like, the quintessence of hangover, circles under the eyes, grey face, he looks like a dirty dish cloth…”

“Jesus, guys, do you really have to talk so loud??? Anyway, thanks Stone, you know how to compliment…” Mike moans rubbing his forehead with his hand.

“I’m just telling the truth. Come on, tell us how did you get so fucked up… or… no… I don’t want to know the details.”

“You probably think I got wasted with a few local dudes I don’t even know and I fell asleep in the corner and when I woke up, I realized someone had drawn a dick on my cheek.”

“You left out the pissing-and-puking part but yeah, sort of. Ouch!” I whine when she tosses me with a strict face at full strength in the shoulder. “What’s wrong with you, do you think he’s a saint or what?” I complain.

“Don’t even listen to him, unlike him, I’m interested in the details. So tell me… were there pubic hair on the dick too?” she leans closer confidentially, flashing a cheeky smile and however much annoying I find her, I can’t help snorting.

“Jesus, six of one, half a dozen of the other.” Mike rolls his eyes. “Anywayyy… I wasn’t with some unknown dudes… but I wasn’t alone either…” he shrugs with a mysterious smile.

“Okay, you’re getting a vasectomy. That’s final. I don’t want you to get sued by teen moms from every single town we stop in.” I shake my head.

“Not that I’m the Casanova of the band, are we going to talk about the favors you’ve done to Seattle’s female population too? Do you begrudge me it or what?”

“I’ve had a long string of girlfriends, so what?”

“What?” our band parrot squeaks in again.

“A long string? There’s a herd of them!” Mike goes on.

“Just stop!” she screams and we both fall silent, surprised by her sudden outburst. “I’m new here. Explain.” she adds in a mellower voice.

“Judith, maybe you should improve your “reading between the lines” skills. My colleague is trying to say that he spent the night with a female acquaintance, I guess we can call her like that with some euphemism. And I recommended some fertility restrictions regarding Mike’s wasted adventures are like the cliché bad examples in sexual education videos.”

“As if you…” my bandmate is about to reply but he gets interrupted by the returning lovely waitress, and honestly, I don’t mind, somehow I don’t want him to reveal my dating history before the girl who never misses any occasion to point out my flaws.

“Did you manage to choose in the meantime?” she inquires.

“I’d like to have… scrambled eggs with ham and a sesame seed bun, fresh orange juice, pancakes with maple syrup, a peanut butter sandwich and chocolate chips with vanilla ice.” Mike reads enthusiastically.

“A sunny-side up with bacon and a cherry pie á la RR.” my neighbor lists.

“A vegetarian cheese plate and I’d like to try that deliciously sounding pie too.” I smile at the waitress.

“It’s even better than you think, Sir.” she winks back at me and as I watch her collecting the menus, I can see Camden’s disgusted face from the corner of my eye.

“Sooo… a Twin Peaks fan, huh?” I nudge her. “From now on, I’m gonna call you Nadine, it suits you in every sense.”

“Nice try, Bob… Anyway, Mike, if this is your hangover appetite, what is your normal state like? I got nausea even of listening to you…”

“I burned a lot of calories last night so…” he grins proudly, making me cackle up.

“Here we are, I want details!” I imitate a drum snare with my palms on the table.

“Jesus, guys, are you really going to disc…” Miss Prudery clucks in but luckily, my bandmate ignores her whining.

“It was… wild.” he smirks firmly.

“Wilder than that escort girl in L.A.?” I giggle since this is one of my favorite stories with which I tease Mike from time to time and it’s also a great topic to outrage this first communicant next to me.

“What? Mike? You’ve paid for sex???” Bingo.

“How many times I have to tell that…” Mike pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers with a nervous gasp. “Judy, it wasn’t the way you think… when I was living in L.A. with the Friel brothers, I met a nice waitress at a concert venue… we sort of hooked up, she’d visit me at the record store I’d work at… she was busted all the time so I’d lend her my spare money, I mean what I didn’t spend on booking gigs for us… and Chris Friel tried to warn me gently that every time I’d give her money, we’d sex afterwards… and once we ended up in a strip club after a gig and I found out she was a stripper, she worked there, I mean, she was dropping her clothes right in front of me… and she wasn’t only stripping. So I realized that what I thought to be a friends with benefits situation was actually a prostitute-client relationship, she was just too good-hearted to enlighten me. Stone, are you happy now???”

“Awww, Mike, this is so sad… but it’s also somehow so sweet… I hope you got a discount at least. But what’s with that girl from last night? What’s her name?”

“Someone has suddenly become curious, interesting…” I throw in.

“Errrr… her name was…”

“Jesus, Camden, you know nothing about one-night-stands, don’t you?” I ask to buy Mike some time but to be honest, I don’t know what to think seeing the industrial amount of condoms I found in her toiletry bag last night. Either is she a wild cat and a really god actress at the same time or this tour is like a project for her to get rid of her virginity. Ten times at least. And Jeff Ament has the honor to assist. Jesus.

“Why, I only asked…”

“He doesn’t know shit about her, let alone her name.”

“You banged…” she yells but realizing everyone looks at us, she suddenly takes the volume back “You had sex with her and you didn’t even ask her name?” she whispers between her teeth.

“Why? Names are overrated. Anyway, she introduced herself, I just… can’t remember her name anymore. And she didn’t even care about my name either.”

“Judith, I understand this is new to you, you probably insist on swapping business cards before petting and ask the guy even to show his ID before the penetration but in most cases, these things are going in a simpler way…” I use the occasion to torture her a bit and she starts reddening so much that I almost feel sorry for her. Almost.

“Hey Stoney, don’t mock her! Jude, there’s nothing wrong with being cautious. I mean, the social security number can even be useful in case your partner suffers a sex injury.” he tries to help her out clumsily and glances at me for reassurance.

“Yeah, let alone the blood type in case he needs a transfusion after the experience.” I scoff.

“Could we go back to Mike’s experience?” she squints towards me with popped eyes making a nervous gesture. “I hope you had protection…”

“Jesus, of course, she was prepared…”

“She??? Mike, how can you be so irresponsible, it’s always the guy’s task, I would never ever… go out with a guy who expects me to provide him with condoms, Jesus…”

Ha. The little liar…

“Are we seriously analyzing these details? I mean, how was the chick?” I exclaim, earning one more toss arriving from my right side.

“She was… nice. I mean, she had that crazy vibe… It was weird, everything was okay until we left to her place, we drank, we played pool, she started flirting, I reciprocated it and so on… At one point, she threw herself on me, by the time I realized what’s happening, she was basically already licking my tonsils… not that I minded. So she dragged me to her place.”

“That doesn’t sound that bad…” I grin.

“Something tells me there was a “but” in the story…” the queen of condoms reacts ignoring my remark.

“Well yeah… she disappeared in the kitchen to bring more booze, so I turned on the TV, I thought some decent erotic channel wouldn’t hurt in the process but I stopped at a documentary, it was filmed in Kenya, I think, with beautiful shots and interesting narrations… she came back at the part on mating lions, she asked me if liked it, I found her question odd but I answered “of course” and she got completely hysterical.”

“How… how do you mean?” she asks fidgeting anxiously with her coffee mug.

“She… she freaked out saying she couldn’t believe I’m into that too. It so strange, out of context, I guess it was probably some dark secret with his ex, so I didn’t ask.”

What a coincidence!

“Interesting, the same…” I reply but a nervous little hand beats me in the thigh under the table. What the hell is she doing?

“Go… go on Mike, and what happened after that?” she inquires with a forced smile.

“I managed to calm her down, switched to Playboy channel, and you know… we begin to get  into the thing on the couch… but my stomach started rumbling, I was starving since I hadn’t eaten the whole day. So I asked her if I could grab some food before we… you know… and she almost begin to cry, explaining she never mixes food into sex, it was so incoherent, I couldn’t even understand what’s happening…” he recalls causing me a lightbulb moment.

“Jesus Mike, I know why she acted like that…” I exclaim chuckling since it I know this is more than a simple coincidence, his story has too much in common with my conversation with Claudia. Actually, now that it’s not about me, it actually sounds funny. Hilariously funny, I can’t stop shaking of repressed laughter… But those restless fingers pinch me in the thigh this time and when I turn right to challenge her, all I can see are two, huge, warm, brown eyes, begging me concerned… and suddenly I realize what they are trying to say.

“And why?” Mike asks back. Okay, I have to find out something, and I have to do it fast, think…

“Because… because… she chickened out!”

“Yes, that must have been the reason.” she agrees as quickly as possible. Okay, crisis averted.

“She didn’t.” Mike smirks. “She finally allowed me to grab some snacks and then… mature content.” he illustrates with fitting hand moves the events. “Okay, she turned out to be into rodeo roleplay, which was new to me but… after all, it was fun.” he shrugs not too convincingly.

“Was she wearing boots with spurs?”

“Damn, Camden, you always grasp the most important details…”

“She wasn’t… but she had a hat made bondage stuff to me but it was fine.”

Our meals arrive in the meantime but somehow the consumption of my vegan cheese plate seems to be incompatible with the picture of the naked Mike tied to a bed and ridden by Claudia only wearing a cowboy hat.

“A lot of people are into it but of course, there are different levels.” our troublemaker plays the expert with her mouth full.

“It was the enjoyable level bondage. Anyway, she had one more outburst, when we were finished.” he tells stuffing a considerable pile of scrambled egg into his mouth. “After the action, she went out to the bathroom but she threatened to slit my throat if I’d follow her. Like, why would I do that?”

I snort but I manage to fake a cough fast enough not to be noticed by Mike and abused by the travel-size Terminator.

“I don’t know, shower sex?” she shrugs casually munching too. Like she knows.

“Yeah, but that’s a good thing, isn’t it? Whatever. Anyway, guys, how was your night?”

“Terrible.”

“Awful.” we answer at once.

“Why, was it because of the motel or…?”

“I had nightmares… I mean, during that one single hour I slept. I didn’t really dare fall asleep because of the cockroaches… and I kept dreaming about them.” she begins to play with the food pushing it around on the plate.

“Stone, you had nightmares too?”

“Oh, no… although I had every reason to do so. I don’t know, the bed was uncomfortable.”

There’s an awkward silence. Mike devotes all his attention to his food and honestly, probably neither of us minds that he stops asking about last night. Anyway, as for the Claudia thing, she was right. He was proud of his conquest, facing him with the fact he was only a backup target would have totally ruined his confidence. I have to warn Scully too, he’s such a gossip. And Ed would certainly disapprove it but come on, Mike just wants to enjoy being the member of a rock band. He doesn’t fuck girls in every bush we pass by, I don’t think he should be executed for it. Jeff isn’t better either, drooling over you colleague, how immature and irresponsible…

“Hi Jeff!”

Speak of the devil. Anyway, why is she so suddenly so enthusiastic of seeing him?

“Hi guys. Wow, that looks good.” our bassist leans over to check my plate while Mike pulls his leg back to leave him space. Of course he couldn’t do that a few minutes earlier, so typical.

“If you ask me, it tastes better without Mike’s bizarre sex adventures but it’s a matter of taste.”

“Bizarre sex adventures? Something tells me I have to catch up.” he laughs. “How are you, Judy? You disappeared tomorrow so early.”

“Thanks, I’m fine, I was just…tired. Look, Jeff, I was thinking… if you wanna hang out today before the show? I mean, you said you’d show me a few chords and…”

I can’t believe my ears. What made her change her mind? If Dave’s jealousy trick worked out, I have to re-evaluate my knowledge about dating.

“Sure.” Jeff’s face lights up. “Anytime.”

“Aaaanytime, Juuudy…” I mock. ”Just don’t forget to put some money in his G-string.” I add mumbling.

“Jesus, Stone, you’re gross!” Mike drops his fork annoyed.

“I’m the gross? Remember, Mike…” I’m ready to remind him of his various drunk performances but as the debate is about to get heated, Eric shows up in the diner followed by Ed and Beth.

“Guys, we have a problem…”

[nico-di-genova]

What’s in a Name

Prompt: Carlos calling TK, Tyler Kennedy Strand while proposing.

(Huge thanks to @evan-buckley-diaz for helping me come up with the proposal idea!)

       “Wait, don’t look yet,” Carlos says, moving his hands from TK’s shoulders to his face so he could cover the man’s eyes.

       TK paused for only a moment at the lack of sight, before he felt Carlos press against his back reassuringly, and took another hesitant step forward. Arms outstretched before him, shuffling forward slowly, he made his way to what he assumed was the backyard. Carlos had been weird from the moment he’d gotten home, meeting TK at the door with a kiss that felt a bit more enthusiastic than his usual greeting. Dressed in grey slacks and a tucked-in white button up, TK had almost immediately picked up on the strangeness of the whole situation. He was dressed like they were about to go out, not like this was a regular Tuesday night and TK had just gotten home smelling like smoke and sweat. Now, he was being led outside to what he could only assume was Carlos either showing him a body he’d just buried, or the grill that they hadn’t used in months. It was the middle of January, not exactly the perfect time for a bar-b-que.  

       “You’re being so weird,” he says, as Carlos tells him to step down, so he doesn’t trip.

       They must be in the backyard by now; he can smell freshly cut grass and feel the gentle breeze blowing around them. He’s thankful he’d taken a moment to change at the station, trading in his Austin FD attire for jeans and a black bomber jacket; it’s chillier than he was used to. Four years spent in Texas had turned him soft, he didn’t have the endurance he used to have against the cold.

       “Can I look now?”

       They’d come to a stop, Carlos still pressed solidly up against his back. TK leaned further against him, soaking up the body heat that rolled off him in waves. Where TK tended to run cold, Carlos operated as a human furnace. At night, curled up underneath the man’s thick comforter, it could get unbearable. Right now he was just thankful for the warmth.

       “Just a second, jeez, you’re so impatient,” Carlos huffed. TK could hear the smile in his voice, could almost picture it. The flash of perfect white teeth, and the dimples that would pull at the corners of his mouth. TK had seen that smile enough times that it was ingrained in his memory, impossible to forget.

       As odd as this was, TK had to admit it was nice. He’d spent most of the day dealing with pure stupidity. There was the man who’d set off fireworks in his kitchen and was surprised when his house actually caught on fire. The women who’d left her baby in her car while she went grocery shopping, only to realize she’d also locked her keys in the vehicle as well. Even his own team was being weird today. Marjan kept smirking at him like she knew something he didn’t, and his dad seemed to be going out of his way to avoid him. Judd and Paul had kept whispering behind his back as well and making snide comments that rubbed him the wrong way. All in all, it had been an annoying day, and as confused as he was by Carlos’ behavior he was also glad that he was finally home and not out dealing with anymore bullshit. Carlos being strange was something he could handle, at least it was a familiar strangeness.

       “Okay,” Carlos finally said, pulling his hands away, “you can look.”

       TK wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t this.

       “Oh,” he breathed, “wow.”

       Their backyard had been transformed into something rivaling that of a middle aged mom’s Pinterest board. String lights ran from the trees and entwined around the beams of the pergola above him; they were a soft golden glow in the black of the night. He studied them in a sort of lovestruck awe, dazzling at the way they’d been so artfully draped around the yard. There were flowers too, hanging in streams from the lights, and petals scattered at his feet. They were white and stood out in stark contrast to the dark green of the grass.

       “What-?” he started to ask before the words left him. He was amazed, if not a little confused, and he couldn’t help but wonder just how long this must have taken Carlos to put together.

       “Do you like it?” the man asked. From the corner of his eye, TK could see the way Carlos was watching him. It was with the sort of intense interest that TK still wasn’t quite used to. His brown eyes drinking in every part of TK. No matter how many times Carlos told him, whispered it against his skin on late nights, TK would never truly believe that he was worth this. Whatever this was, it seemed like something befitting a storybook character.

       “I-. It’s beautiful,” he mumbled, not quite able to find his voice still. It was like he’d stepped into a fairytale, like Carlos was some prince who’d whisked him away to a world of wonder and whimsy. He was utterly captivated.  

       Carlos beamed, “I’ve been working on it all day. Well, technically, Michelle did help me a little bit, but it was mostly me.”

       He turned to face the man, taken further aback by the look in his eyes. Carlos was watching him with nothing but pure adoration in his features.. TK could feel his heartbeat quicken under his gaze.

       “Why?” He asked, voice quiet, “I love it, but why?”  

       It’s here where something filters across Carlos’ face. It’s small, just a flash, but TK can read it: hesitation. Carlos clears his throat and shifts to put his hands in his pockets.

       “Well, I um-. I had something I wanted to ask you actually.”

       TK feels his heart beat faster, hears the way his breath catches in his throat. There’s an inkling of something at the back of his head, something that tells him he knows where this is going. He tries to ignore that part, mostly because he doesn’t want to believe it just yet. He forces himself to wait, to listen, before he starts jumping to any conclusions.

       Carlos moves from TK’s side, coming to stand in front of him. In the soft light that surrounds them, Carlos is positively radiating. His eyes are catching the golden glow just right, shining brightly. TK could get lost in the way he’s smiling, beautiful and brilliant. He wants to lean forward and kiss the man, drink in the feel of that smile against his lips and feel the warmth that’s spreading through his heart grow. Carlos’ shirt is tight on his muscular frame, sleeves cuffed right at the elbow, and the first few buttons left undone to expose his perfectly sculpted chest. He’s effortlessly beautiful, and it’s enough to drive TK mad.

       “I’ve been wanting to do this for a while now, but I wanted it to be perfect.” he takes a moment to breathe, to collect his thoughts, before continuing, “because TK… I’m in love with you. Like, head over heels, suffocatingly in love with you. I love the way you look in the morning, before you’ve woken up, when I can just watch the sunlight fall across your face. I love the way you laugh, how it fills up a room. I love you when you’re mad at me, and your eyebrows furrow up in the cute way they always do. I love you even when you don’t want me to, because you’re worth loving TK. Every day, for the rest of my life, I want to love you. I choose to love you, more than anyone I’ve ever loved before, because you’re worth everything to me.”

       TK can feel tears burning at the corners of his eyes, turning his vision blurry. He manages to blink them away right as Carlos smiles at him, gentle and honest, and gets down on one knee. If TK was breathing before he’s certainly not now. Air lodges itself in his throat, as his eyes widen, and he has to take a startled half step back.

       “What are you doing?” he manages to choke out, hand coming up to cover his mouth in shock.

       Carlos laughs, “what does it look like I’m doing?”

       The tears well right back up. Even though they’ve been dating for close to four years, he still can’t possibly believe this might actually be happening. It doesn’t seem real, “Are you serious?”

       Carlos nods, “yeah, tiger, I’m serious.”

       TK watches, in disbelief, as Carlos reaches into his pocket and pulls out a ring. It’s silver and catches the light as he holds it in his hand.

      “I love you so much,” he says, voice beginning to waver, “so, Tyler Kennedy Strand will you marry me?”  

      The words spill out of TK’s mouth before he’s even had a chance to think about them, “fuck yes.”

      It’s so easy to ignore any other part of him. To push away the insecurities, or the past, because he can look at Carlos now and see nothing but honest, open, truth. He’s loved, intensely so. He’s loved so much that the man he’s going to spend the rest of his life with has spent all day setting up this ridiculously cheesy proposal. It’s a little over the top, a little cliché, but it’s perfect. Carlos is perfect, and nothing else in the world could matter to him right now.                

                                                   ******

       It’s later, curled up in Carlos’ arms, that he notices something about the ring he’s twirling between his fingers.

       “Is their something on the inside?” he asks, holding the band closer to his face so that he can see the engraving that’s been etched into the metal. Carlos shifts beside him on the bed.

       “Yeah, it’s um-. It’s my initials, in my handwriting,” there’s a blush burning it’s way onto his cheeks. He must know how sappy it sounds, but TK is so in love that he thinks it’s probably the cutest thing he’s ever heard.

       “Seriously?”

       “Yeah. I just wanted something for us, you know. Something private.”

       And TK had thought he was done feeling emotional for the night, but apparently not. He slides the ring back on his finger, loving how perfectly it fits, like it was some missing piece of him. It’s got just enough weight to it that he can feel it and know he belongs somewhere. It may have taken him a few years, but he’s finally gotten it right. No botched proposal, no drugs bought in the early hours of the night, just Carlos beside him, warm and familiar.

       Shifting, so he’s straddling Carlos’ hips, he looks down at the man beneath him with a lopsided grin.            

       “You’re such a sappy idiot,” he says, teasing and light.

       Carlos grins right back, “the sappy idiot you’re marrying, Tyler Kennedy Reyes.”

        He can’t help but laugh at that, “Reyes, huh?”

       “Carlos Strand doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue.”

       He doesn’t particularly care what name he ends up with, because in the end, they’re both equally his.

[lucarioisinthevoid]

Hey, uh, do you take request for any epilogue stuff or just Henry suffering? Because if the former, well, we never got to see Old Sport apologizing to the lost souls, and since now that's his job... could we get that? Sorry to bother ^^' - (copied by me, original from AO3)

(Every kind of request is welcome! That is something I meant to write anyways, but I’m still really scared of it- it’s something very important, that HAS to sit just right. I doubt I will manage, but hey, at least it’s out of my mind after this one. OH AND I JUST REALIZED YOU’RE RIGHT ABOUT THE “we never saw”- FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE IN THE FINALE I knew I forgot SOMETHING, I thought I had it all written down, but I DIDN’T. Urgh, no point in crying over spilled milk I guess, but have my apologies, I know that you especially were looking forward to it ;n; Now I’m lowkey stuck between a rock and a hard place- either I make this into a proper epilogue thing, in which technically shouldn’t be able to apologize- or I go back and make this as a fix-it/rewrite scene from within the action. I think I’ll try to make it an epilogue and bullshit my way into Old Sport being able to apologize. Bear with me)

Forgiveness isn’t something you can work towards as a single person. It wasn’t like they hadn’t known that when they made their way to the first few restaurants, but it still always left a little crack behind in their optimism. Of course, there was nothing they could do about it. Freeing souls was actually a terribly ungrateful job, something that surprised Dave. Sure, Old Sport had warned him beforehand, but still. It stung. Not that Dave wasn’t on some level aware that he’s the one everyone’s anger was targeted at- for good reason, he had created this scenario in the first place- but a selfish part of him despised the kids for not playing along right away. Henry had told him back in the day that he needed to get a grip on his desire for instant satisfaction- and he was right. As much as Dave hated to think about it, he was right. There were things he easily lost patience with. Hell, he had pressured Old Sport far, far more than he should have. A sudden surge of stubbornness settled into his chest. It was FINE, it worked great with Old Sport. He didn’t do anything wrong. He DIDN’T. He’d do it again! … … that wasn’t the right attitude for a man on the road of redemption, but he couldn’t really help it yet. Deep down he hoped the attitude change would come with habit. There was no way he could get around to it on his own. Old Sport was… doing okay, all things considered. Being almost ripped out of your own body, because you resembled your worst enemy more than your former self was pretty- terrifying. So nowadays, he was… quiet. A little car chase always managed to rip him out of his thoughtful moments, returning the grin to the place it rightfully belonged, covering most of the Orange Guy’s face- but it was only moments, minutes, not long enough, not nearly long enough to satisfy him. Or at least calm him. Old Sport knew that too. When he glanced over at his friend- his partner, his lover, all these words that almost seemed to make no sense, they felt like weren’t supposed to be applied to HIM, him the soulless guy shambling from place to place- When he glanced at Dave, he saw the tension radiating off him like a swarm of bees. Even in his smile, it was clear, he wasn’t outright happy, he was- Like a bow, tightly strung, ready to escalate. There was nowhere left where he truly could let out his chaotic desires, as each Freddy’s they walked into was another mission that had to be done perfectly, like clockwork. Cheesy words, little theatrics, the same patterns over and over and over and over and over- It was what had driven Old Sport over the edge the first time. It wouldn’t happen again though. Maybe they should go to Vegas. However, he didn’t really want to let Dave loose anymore. Not now that their actions felt so… intertwined. Whatever Dave did, he felt responsible for, thus he tried to keep him in check. And now… … now he almost felt scared of Dave, from time to time. Now that he was trying to take the lead. It- wasn’t right. No, no. Fear, fear implied HE was the one afraid. This was different. Worry. He was worried for Dave and he worried for the world around him. But that was the price he paid for being moral and wanting things to work out for everyone. It felt a bit dirty, just picking up a morality, not due to experience and inner passion for these things, instead only because morals came as a set. Really, he still wasn’t a whole person. … at least he was working on it. “What’s wrong with ya, Sportsy?” Dave stretched his neck out towards him, drawing a smile out of the Orange Guy. Somehow seeing Dave becoming all- noodly- always brightened his day. “Nothing! Nothing. I was just thinking about the next place… apparently the Freddy’s burned down, but the animatronics are still in the area?” “Is that what the bear told ya?” “Yes. Which means setting up the party and getting them to stumble over it will be more dangerous than usually… we’ll have to lure them there. We miggt have to walk through the town while wearing the suit!” “Sounds like fun!” Slightly Old Sport smiled. This was something Dave still was great at. “… if you say so. You’re the only one who thinks of waltzing around in sweaty suits, while potentially being chased by dog as ‘fun’.” “Yeah, right- I’m just the only one of us who can admit it! That’s ‘cause ya can’t admit to your feelings, Sportsy! It took ya YEARS, DECADES to finally give into your BURNING DESIRE FOR ME-“ “Sh-shut up! Don’t be weird!” His cheeks were reddening as Dave laughed. This was the one way his constantly building up tension melted away. If he didn’t think for a few moments, the world seemed okay. “Welp, either way-“ The Purple Guy continued, pulling the car to the side. “- we’re at the destination. This is the burned down place. Wait- doesn’t burnin’ them usually free ‘em anyways? Ya know. If all stops have to come out?” “True. There are only two souls around, the one inside of Freddy and the one inside of Chica. The rest was freed by the fire.” “So, we’re dealin’ with two REALLY nasty bastard kids?” “You shouldn’t say that. That aside: yes, you’re right on the money.” “Urgh, those are the worst. Can’t we just break them and burn the pieces?” “No.” “I knew you’d say that Old Sport. Yet I’m STILL disappointed.” He sighed, as he parked to the side. Getting suited up as soon as they could, they looked around the forest area, the lights of the town far in the back, but still very much visible. No taking roads, yards were fine, forest first though. “… alright, this will take time.” Old Sport looked over the wrecks. “Good we have plenty of things to set up a little party anyways. Dave?” “Yessir?” “You go out and try to find them while I set up. We can’t really afford wasting too much time, especially if they might be genuinely vengeful.” “Splittin’ up? First mistake in the horror genre, tsk, tsk-“ “Sure, because either of us is at such a risk of ACTUALLY DYING. EVER.” He waved his hand at him. “At least stake the place out. So we know which places are easier to cross while seeking. And how much we roughly have to look over.” “Fiiiiiiine.” Clearly not pleased, but accepting of his role, Dave walked past him- Just to abruptly and grab Old Sport by the mask, pulling him close into a pretend-kiss, which was somehow even more flustering than an actual kiss. “DAVE!” “C’mon, somehow I gotta motivate myself, right?” Happy as can be, he nuzzled his snout against Old Sport’s, before letting go and skipping away. “Be back soon! Don’t cut any cake without me!” When he was gone, Old Sport slowly sighed. “He… won’t hurt anyone.” The suit echoed. ‘He won’t. As long as you won’t.’ Old Sport winced at the familiar voice- it was soft, caring, and so, so sad. “Fredbear-“ ‘The birthday, Old Sport. Birthday first.’ Nodding to himself, defeated, he pulled out the tools from within the car. Candles, banners, lights, plates and hats, a music player… … they were prepared to create a party out of nothing, out of a charred place of dirt, if they had to. Thankfully the walls were at least still mostly preserved. Ashes to ashes. Places like this reminded him of… “… I never apologized, Fredbear.” ‘That is true.’ “They were gone. I knew what Mike did, I just- couldn’t- I couldn’t face the Toys anymore. I didn’t even know their names. Mike knew their names, right?” ‘He did.’ “I can’t ask Mike. I can’t ask him for the names.” The words stumbled out of him. Fredbear tended to join him every time that they were setting up, not in his true form right away, but as a presence within the suit Old Sport had to wear. It was reassuring in some regard- But at the same time, the memories he brought Old Sport were suffocating. ‘You could.’ Old Sport wanted to scream, his busy hands still setting up, regardless of the conversation. “Yes. Yes I could. And I could kill Dave. And I could jump from a high building to try out to fly. And I could adopt twenty cats. And I could hijack a train. And I could- what is there I couldn’t do!? But I don’t want to, because I’m not dumb, I KNOW it’s wrong, I know it’s terrible, I know-“ Shortly he paused to take a breath. “There’s so much I could be, and nothing that I am, but I WANT to be something now. So I can’t.” For a moment it was silent, Fredbear not saying the many things he could have. Yet somehow, it felt as though he could still hear them. Spiteful whispers, stuck in the suit, banished from this place, but remaining as echoes. Nothing ever truly disappeared. He had stained the suit, and the suit had been stained by the one wearing it before him. Blood remained with any object, no matter how well you cleansed it. “… I need to apologize to them.” ‘So you can forget?’ His mind knew that Fredbear would never say something like this with spite, but it still cut him deep. “… so I can… know I did something right.” ‘We never can right our wrongs.’ “Since when did you become so cynical!?” ‘It is not cynical. There just are wrongs we cannot turn back the time on. Well- perhaps the dog could have, he never wanted to however. I have blood on my paws from making you, trusting a creature that never was a human… and I have damned a man to hell. And not even when I should have, only when it was too late.’ Finally, this managed to shut Old Sport up for good. Don’t look so hurt, other people have problems too. Except he didn’t have any problems. No, he was fine. It didn’t keep him awake at night. It didn’t bother him. Just the knowledge that there was something on his checklist to reach a goal he set himself, something that he would never be able to cross off, it irked him. Petty. A hint of sadness took ahold of him. “… how old are you, Fredbear? Or- were you, when you-“ ‘I lived many lives, those that joined me. Many more than I wanted to count. I feel so old, I cannot remember. And everyone I carry with me is so different too.’ “Alright then.” They were busy enough anyhow, trying to make the place look like new, like a place to feel happy at, to play and not to think about anything- Making it up. Celebrating the birthday they never had. Making a lie into a truth, a lure into a genuine gesture. Follow me. Old Sport did it once- now he played the part of Henry in the freeing missions. It was important to follow the old pattern, to overwrite it. Who would be doing the luring? Who would be cutting the cake? What games would they play? Fredbear kept quiet about it until they knew exactly where to go and all other preparations had been done. One thing at a time, he always said. “Fredbear?” Old Sport quietly asked. ‘Yes?’ “… can I- can I apologize to you? In their place I mean. Apologize to you like I would to them- just so- I have it out. And if you think it’s any good, then maybe you can tell them what I said.” ‘… it’s alright. We can do that.’ Understanding warmth- yet it didn’t feel like it was meant for him. He couldn’t accept it. At least this was something he was looking forward to- now he only had to figure out the right words to say. Lost in thought, he didn’t even realize how fast the time passed, until- “OLD SPORT!” Yelping the Orange Guy jumped, thankfully not triggering any springlocks. “DAVE! God- don’t- DO that!” Sheepishly the Purple Guy in the bunny suit tilted his head. “Sorry! Sorry Sportsy, really am, but I have- good news and bad news.” “Bad news?” “Ain’t nothing ya can do here.” Instantly turning more serious, Dave shook his head. “These are mine and mine alone. I guess I was really… passionate about the whole shutting down Freddy’s stuff. I lured them on my own. You can’t even be nearby.” His voice was so different. So much smoother, more clinical. It was nice and yet it wasn’t. Old Sport nodded. “… good news?” Perking up, back to his usual self, he pointed into the woods. “I know where they are! And I know how to lure ‘em, seein’ as they fuckin’ hate each other!” “… so two lost souls hate each other and you see that as a win?” “Yeah! It’ll be great! I can tell ‘em to meet here to fight and then- oh.” He scratched his fake ear. “… actually, now that ya say it, it might be a bit more of a hassle.” His expression turned pleading. “Spoooortsyyyyyy…? Ya always have such good ideas, so…?” “Depends on why they hate each other. Why are they fighting?” The pressure was on! “Uhm. How about you do actually send them here to fight, for one last time. Tell them that you’ll solve the fight once and for all. I think it will be the truth.” “Great!” “But Dave- remember- they might be fighting about who is at fault for their death. You… sure you want to get between that?” “Eh. It’s fine. If they’re upset about that, then it’ll be even easier to get them to calm down. Ain’t nobody’s fault they died but mine!” A hint of envy stung through Old Sport’s chest. “… you… really don’t mind, do you?” “Nah. It’s fine.” Curiously Dave looked at him. “They’ll give me a good beatin’, then they’ll be on their merry way. I dealt with worse pain before!” “That’s… not what I meant.” He said to much, and turning away didn’t help- Within a second, Dave’s hands were on him, as he pulled his orange lover closer, petting over the back of his head, a gesture he could feel even through the layer of metal and fur. “… did Fredbear bully you again? You should take the suit off.” “He never bullied me.” “He’s telling you stuff that upsets you! Over and over again!” Upset Dave scoffed. “Sounds like mistreatment to me! I’m telling you, if he gets too much, we’ll just get rid of him. We’ll figure the saving souls stuff out ourselves!” “I KNOW you would get rid of him.” That was exactly why he didn’t talk about it. “See? You know you can count on me!” For a moment Old Sport remained tense- then he slowly melted into the hug, trying to relax. “… I’m- Fredbear really didn’t do anything. I’m taking the suit off in a bit, when I’m sure he has nothing more to say- but it’s not the problem anyways.” He sighed, to himself. “You shrug it off so easily. I want to do it too. Or- I would want to, if I weren’t-“ It was hard to put it into words with Dave, who never really saw the world how he did. Once more he attempted. “If I’d do the thing I’d do, I would become worse for it. Worse and worse. I would do more bad things. So I’m- worried about messing up. I worry that if I start shrugging it off, I’ll never care in the first place.” It was obvious Dave frowned, even with the mask. “… I- don’t get it. Gotta be honest with you, Sportsy. Why do you think if you don’t make yourself feel a certain way, you’ll feel the exact opposite way? You’re yourself and do what you think feels right. Why would one bad thing lead to another? Unless you wanted to do all these bad things anyways? You don’t have to pretend with me.” “I… guess. But we made a deal. We’re freeing them. What happens after that…” Stumbling over his words Old Sport tried to gather himself. “I want to be someone. Someone better than who I am.” “… but if you want to be someone you deem good, it means you by yourself think that person is good. You, for yourself, have decided you like these traits. So if you want to be someone, then only because you can recognize what’s in them from something that’s within you.” “Dave, you’re scaring me when you’re this serious.” The big, moon-like eyes inside of the suit slimmed down to match a cheeky grin. “Ya can say that Old Sport, and I can dumb myself down for ya! Stop worryin’, dunce, leave all of that to me. I’ll be able to reel ya in if ya ever go off the rails!” Raising an eyebrow, the Orange Guy looked at him. “… you kill people for fun and profit.” “Yeah, but that ain’t a BIG deal, right? I can let ya stay home while I do it.” Playfully Dave responded, before turning away. “You need to have some more faith in me Old Sport… and for now, nothin’ of this matters! Let’s free some souls! Or rather, let ME free some souls, while ya have a nice evening. Watch some stars! Is everything ready for the party?” “All is set up!” “Fantastic, that’s why I love ya, Old Sport!” Instantly flustered, the Old Sport made a movement at him. “Quit saying that at EVERY opportunity!” “What?! Why?! I just say it when it’s true! Like when you laugh, when you make breakfast, when you burn breakfast, when you talk to me on the road, when you-“ “DAVE. EYES ON THE PRICE.” “You’re the only price I-“ “D A V E.” “Fine, fine, be the killjoy. That’s why I lov-“ “GET GOING. THE NIGHT ISN’T FOREVER.” “Sure, sure!” Waving at him and still laughing, Dave made his way down the hill, leaving the bear-suited guy inside of the ruin that was covered in glitter and lights. He had taken off the suit. Stargazing for now. Music came from the ruins of the old Freddy’s, music and light, glimpses of another world. It radiated outside in waves, catching up even the place where he and Fredbear sat. Soon enough he would change his form, leaving to join the two spirits. At least so far there wasn’t any screaming or crying, or fighting- it means whatever Dave had said to them or done with them worked out. Old Sport wished he could have joined them. Maybe he wouldn’t be caught up in all these thoughts still. “… Fredbear? Do you think what Dave said was right?” It was silent for a moment. Then the bear suit shifted a little, seeming more energized in presence of the party. ‘… no. But he is not entirely wrong either. Being good does not come naturally… and neither does being bad.’ Once more, quiet. The stars seemed a little bit closer than usually. “Fredbear. I want… I think I can say my apology now.” Wind breezed through the trees around them, sounding like whisper. Maybe mocking him? But all of a sudden, he felt a deep calm. Maybe mocking. Maybe expecting. No matter what, he would say what he needed to. ‘Go ahead.’ There was no soul to reach into, but his heart was still beating, still working, still doing its jobs. The heart could be wrong and harmful and petty. Perhaps even evil. It was better than nothing however, it was the one thing he had in contrast to Henry. “I… wanted to apologize.” He started. His voice quiet. “… and it won’t be a good apology, because what I want to apologize for isn’t something that… you CAN apologize for. I’ve been trying to find the right words for a while now, but there aren’t any. At least though, I can offer you a why. Why I did what I did. Something so wrong and cruel. I… did it, because it didn’t feel real. And that is abhorrent, I know exactly why, because now it is real, what I did was real, IS real, what I did to five real kids, who had their own lives, that I just TOOK away. It’s not fair, I shouldn’t have been able to do that. It’s insane to think that I could have done so, that the universe let me do it. God, I wish I could do something to make it up for you. That I somehow could replace everything I took. Yet, I can’t. I can’t even ask you what I could offer you. I’d let you borrow my body, wear me like a skinsuit, I’d bring you things that remind you of better times, more peaceful times, something that makes all the hurt go away for a few moments. This apology is one of the few things I can do for you, something I wanted to do for you for a while. I wanted to be there for the party. But I know I shouldn’t have, so I didn’t. … carried around these words and feelings with me for a while. I hope that wherever you are- knowing that I’m paying for what I did, every day a little. There’s justice in this world, even if it looks weird and doesn’t come around right away.” For a moment he paused, staring at the shining stars, that didn’t seem to care. “… I wish… I wish you all have forgotten me already. That would be right. Yes, I hope wherever you are, you don’t even remember the day. I hope you’re having fun and that you are free, that everything is just right, that I’m a nobody now and will stay that way forever- that you only remember those who were kind to you and made your life better. I hope you’re happy and I’m inconsequential. And I will keep paying and giving my best. So that you leave in your wake only good things.” His head hurt. This hasn’t been a good apology- but it was all out there now. He said what felt right to say. He said the things that he wished that they knew, deep down, even if he wasn’t the one saying it to them. Next to him, the real Fredbear stood up, shaking his golden fur, before putting one of his paws onto Old Sport’s shoulder. “THE PARTY NEEDS ME NOW. I WILL GET GOING.” “… yeah. Thank you Fredbear. Bring the kids somewhere nice, will you?” “I WILL.” With that the bear trotted off- Leaving Old Sport to gaze at the stars. At some point, someone sat down beside him. Then someone else. Then another one joined in. And a last. They didn’t forgive him. This was not something you could forgive. But they sat with him until the dawn broke, sun touching the grass, coloring it orange.

[nickelkeep]

The Place Where I Belong

Pairing: Dean/Cas (Background Saileen and Sheriff Wives) Rating: M Word Count: 5,545. (Damn you Ao3, Google Docs said it was 5555!) Warnings: None? Mebbe? I don’t think so. Written For: nickel’s storytime On Ao3

Dean had never been more happy to see the bunker.

Sure, the last hunt was a success, and yeah, he and Cas had figured out why people were being taken. But at what expense? When Sam had given the case to the pair of them, he somehow had forgotten to mention that the case involved couples.

The few days that Dean had spent with Cas had been absolute bliss. They needed to blend into the rest of the population, and the public displays of affection had been everything that Dean had ever dreamed of. Cas' hand felt right in his, Cas' arms around his shoulders in a hug felt like home.

And the scratch from Cas' scruff on his cheek from a quick kiss? Well, call Dean cheesy, but it was Heaven on earth, and that Heaven was named Cas.

Once Dean parked Baby in the garage, the charade was over. Cas was back to his unreadable poker face, the hand holding stopped, and Dean felt cold. He missed the warmth Cas showed him at the resort, he ached for any hint of it. Even if it were fake.

Dean grabbed his duffel out of the trunk, leaving Cas to his own devices, and booked it to his room. The faster he could get away from Cas, as much as it hurt, the better.

Once in his room, he threw his bag on the floor, wincing at the sound it made, thinking that maybe something broke in it. Dean let out a heavy sigh and dragged his hand down his face.

A knock at the door had Dean flinch, and the voice from the other side brought him no additional comfort.

"Dean, are you okay?" Cas' deep, gravelly voice was muffled by the door. "I know you were injured, do you need me to take a look at it?"

Dean shook his head. The injury was minor compared to others he had received before. A sprained wrist that clicked when Dean turned it a certain way? Cas didn't need to look at that.

"I'm fine, Cas." Dean let out a deep breath quietly before picking his bag back up and setting it gently on the bed. He unzipped it and started digging through it, looking for something to stabilize his wrist.

"If you're sure." There was a pause from the other side of the door, and Cas started speaking again. "I have a text from Eileen. She and Sam will be back in an hour or so."

"Are they requesting food or something?" Dean asked before thinking. He closed his eyes and shook his head, cursing himself.

"They wanted to know if they needed to stop before coming back to the bunker." A pause again. "I can check the fridge while you unpack. Tell them what we need."

Dean nodded, despite Cas not being able to see him. "Yeah, Cas. That sounds good." Dean pulled out an ace wrap from the bag and sat on the bed. "Tell them that I'll make whatever they bring home, as long as they don't make me eat rabbit food."

"A salad never hurt anyone, Dean." Cas sighed. "But very well."

Dean waited until he heard Cas' footsteps retreating before he started wrapping his wrist up. He thought of the monster, a water nymph, how it threw him, and he landed on his wrist wrong, how Cas went berserk and took down the creature. Dean thought of Cas doing that because Cas loved him. Not because they were there to hunt the monster.

Dean tested the wrap, finding it passable, and stood back up. He let out a heavy sigh as he walked to the door, a simple wish crossing his mind.

He wished that the past few days had been real, and not a façade made up to defeat a monster.

…

Two hours later, while curled up in the Deancave watching TV, another voice pulled Dean out of his thoughts. "Hey, Dean."

"Sammy." Dean stayed focused on the TV, a wave of anger building up in his belly.

"How'd it go?" Sam plopped on the couch next to Dean. Dean moved over to give his moose of a younger brother more room. "Cas said it was a nymph or something?"

Dean looked over at his brother and rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Water nymph. Was jealous of the love between the couples. It kidnapped all of the people to try and figure out how to get that for itself."

"Oh yeah? Did you free the missing people? How? I need to put this on file."

"Shut up, Sammy." Dean curled his knees to his chest. "I'm trying to watch my show."

Sam went quiet for a moment. "Did something happen on the case, Dean?"

"Yeah, hurt my wrist. Go bug Cas." Dean snapped.

"I got Cas' point of view. I'm asking for yours." Sam's voice has an edge of a bite to it, and Dean turned his head to glare at his younger brother.

"Let me guess. You want to know if I professed my undying love for Cas, or some bullshit like that, don't you?" Dean scoffed. "I'm never getting drunk with you again. I'm never playing truth or dare with you again, and for fuck's sake, I'm never letting Eileen make my mixed drinks again."

Sam laughed loudly. "So, you didn't tell Cas how you really feel? I set you up with the perfect opportunity, and you blew it."

"I fucking knew it. You did do it on purpose. You knew the whole time." Dean flipped off Sam, restraining himself from kicking his brother.

"Yep. Figured you could get your head out of your ass." Sam shook his head. "Apparently, you couldn't do it."

Dean pushed himself off of the sofa and left the Deancave, storming off to the kitchen to grab a beer. He paused briefly, finding Cas sitting at the table with Jack, and talking over a folder.

"Dean!" Jack smiled at Dean and waved. "Cas said you two had a successful hunt, so now we're planning a small one on our own."

"Sounds like a plan, kiddo. What's got your attention?" Dean grabbed the drink from the fridge and walked over to the table, pointedly not looking at Cas.

"I'm pretty sure it's just a restless spirit." Jack pointed at a spot in the folder.

"Items have gone missing, people have been injured, but there's no viable explanation," Cas added.

Dean nodded, not looking at Cas. "So, find what they're tied to, or salt and burn. Sounds like good practice for you. When are you two heading out?"

"Now that Sam and Eileen are back, we were going to head out now. It's a state over, so we can drive overnight and be there in the morning to do our research." Jack smiled at Dean. "I've got all my stuff packed and ready to go."

Dean clapped Jack on the back and risked a brief look at Cas. Cas was watching Jack with pride and not even focusing on him. Dean wasn't sure what else he was really expecting. "Did you pack some snacks, kiddo?"

"You bet! I got my candy bars, just don't tell Sam." Jack grinned and stood up before looking at Cas. "I'll meet you in the garage, Cas!" Jack bounded out of the kitchen, smiling.

"We'll be back in a couple of days, Dean."

Dean turned to look at Cas. "Do what you need, Cas. Just make sure you come home, okay?"

"Of course, Dean." Cas stood up and crossed to exit the kitchen, resting his hand briefly on Dean's shoulder, before following behind Jack.

Dean let his shoulders fall, the brief touch of Cas' hand reminding him how far away he was from ever having Cas as his own. He looked at the beer in his hand before turning and putting it back in the fridge. The way that Dean saw it, he had one of two options. He could mope and pine forever, or he could move on, finding company elsewhere.

The latter felt more attainable.

Dean returned to his room and got changed, putting on his nicest Henley and cleanest pair of jeans before grabbing his keys. Moving on was calling, and it would be at Jackson's downtown.

…

The quick drive into town only made Dean more nervous. He parked in front of the bar and slid out of the Impala, looking around. He let out a heavy sigh and walked towards the neon lights illuminating the bar windows. 

"Hey there, Dean." Jackson nodded at Dean as he sat down at the bar. "What brings you in on a Thursday?"

Dean let his head slam against the bar. Of course, it was a Thursday. "Just got back in town from a job. It was a pain in the ass."

"Clearly." Jackson chuckled as he poured a shot of Jack for Dean. "That one's on the house."

"Thanks, Jackson." Dean lifted the shot glass and tipped it in thanks before throwing it back. "Just set me up with two Margies?"

Jackson nodded and walked away to grab the bottles. Dean's eyes drifted up to the ball game on the TV, allowing his brain to wander for a bit. He didn't even notice when Jackson dropped the bottles off, cracking the first one for him until he put the bottle to his lips.

"Hey there, handsome." Dean looked to his right and admired the woman who sat next to him. She had long brown hair and soft blue eyes. "Care if I join you?"

"Open seat means open to chatting." Dean smiled at the woman. "Don't think I've seen you around before." He offered his hand. "Dean."

"Cassandra." She took his hand and shook it. "In town visiting family."

"And they let you come here?"

"I resent that remark, Campbell!" Jackson called from the other end of the bar.

Cassandra laughed softly. "Jackson is my family. He's married to my sister." She rested her chin on her hand. "What brings you here?"

"Looking to forget for a little while." Dean turned on his thousand watt smile for Cassandra. "There's usually good company to be found here." Dean's eyes flicked to Jackson, who was crossing back over. His heart sank, because that good company was usually Cas. "What are you drinking, Cassandra?"

"Please, call me Cassie or Cass. I don't need to stand on formalities, Dean." She winked.

"Dean, where's Jimmy?" Jackson interrupted as his sister-in-law started to move in closer to Dean.

"Out of town."

"Ah, was wondering why my second best customer wasn't here with my best customer." Jackson looked at Cassandra, the pair exchanging a conversation through only looks. "It's not like you to come in without him."

"Like I was telling you. Just needed to forget about life for a while." Dean finished off his first bottle and pulled out his wallet, digging out a twenty and dropping it on the counter. "Apparently, I can't forget it here, at least not tonight." He turned to Cassandra. "Hope to see you around."

Dean headed towards the door and heard Jackson talking to Cassandra about him. He was reasonably sure he heard the words "Jimmy" and "Husband" in the same sentence and restrained himself from slamming the door behind him.

...

The drive back to the bunker was too quiet. Even blasting Zeppelin as he drove didn't fill the strange silence that hung around him. He had tried flirting with Cassandra at the bar, and even if Jackson hadn't of interfered, nothing would have come from the interaction.

She wasn't Cas. Sure, she had the hair, the eyes, hell, she even had the damn name. But she was not Castiel, Angel of the Lord.

Dean pulled Baby back into the garage, parking her and finishing the song that was playing before heading back into the Bunker proper. He stopped in the kitchen, intending to grab the second beer he never had at Jackson's. But another brunette decided it was in their best interest to stop him.

"Hi, Dean."

"Hey, 'Leen." Dean grabbed his beer, cracked it, and set it on the counter before turning to face her. He signed as he spoke, "Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"What, and miss getting on your nerves?" Eileen smirked as she took a sip of her own beer, and pointed at the seat across from her. "How was your trip into town?"

Dean shrugged, grabbing his beer before joining her. "Stopped at the bar. Had a whiskey and a beer. Tried to flirt with a woman. Got cockblocked by Jackson." He sipped his beer. "Sounds like a normal time in town."

"Were you actually successful at flirting with the woman?" Eileen asked.

"Nope." Dean shook his head. "I guess I wasn't feeling it."

"What happened on the hunt, Dean?" Eileen asked softly, resting her hand on his arm. "Both you and Cas came back different."

"Cas came back different?" Dean scoffed and shook his head. "He's still Cas."

Eileen shook her own head in response. "No, Dean. Cas is more..." She paused as she thought of the word. "He's brighter. But you appear darker."

"Yeah, well, when I'm darker, I guess everyone looks brighter." Dean finished signing and took a pull of his beer.

"You going to tell me what happened?" Eileen tilted her head, offering a soft smile. "Or do I need to suggest what I think happened?"

"What all has Sam told you?" Dean ran his hand down his face, letting out a sigh.

"Sam doesn't have to tell me anything. It's plain to see how much you and Cas love each other." Eileen leaned forward. "I want to know what happened on the hunt."

Dean shook his head. "It hurts, 'Leen. Cas doesn't love me. Not like I love him." He paled at the confession. "Shit, Sammy got that drunk. How the hell did you get it sober?"

"I'm just that good." Eileen winked. "So, why don't you think Cas loves you?"

"I experienced first hand how he acts when he loves someone. He held my hand, he hugged me..." Dean paused and blushed. "He kissed me." Dean's hands balled into fists as he fought down his emotions. "The moment we got back into the car, he shut off. It was like nothing ever happened."

"Did he shut off, or did you?" Eileen held up a finger. "Did you openly say anything or even imply that you wanted to continue, or did you just go back to how you dance around him on the daily?"

Dean finished his beer and stood up. "Honestly? I'm still stunned any of it happened." He frowned as he took his beer to the trash. Dean turned to face Eileen again. "I'm heading to bed. You should too." He shot off a salute and exited the kitchen.

...

That night, Dean tossed and turned. A distinct sobbing in the bunker caught his attention, and he followed the noise to its source in the Library. Cas was lying on the ground, his wings burned into the floor beneath him. Eileen was sobbing into Sam's chest, and Jack was kneeling next to him.

"What happened?" Dean yelled at the three other people in the room as he rushed to Cas' side, falling onto his knees. "Cas?" Dean gently patted Cas' cheek, shaking him and trying to wake him up. "Cas, buddy, please, wake up." Dean fell forward, wrapping his arms around the fallen angel. "CAS!" His sobbing joined Eileen's, as he kept repeating, "I never got the chance."

...

Dean shot up in bed, feeling around and pinching himself. He was awake, and he was heartbroken.

After digging around under his bed, Dean found and pulled out his emergency handle of Jack Daniels. He grabbed his laptop and leaned back against his headboard. Dean pulled up Netflix, settling on the Great British Bake Off for something to watch as he got himself blitzed on whiskey.

After three - or was it four - episodes, the whiskey was finally running over Dean's brain, and the room started spinning. Dean thought that it was for the best that he put the laptop away. The competitor who had won the last two signature challenges looked an awful lot like Cas, at least to his fuzzy brain.

Dean closed the laptop and set it on his nightstand, knocking his cellphone down. As he picked it up, the picture of him and Cas lit up as his background. Dean smiled and ran his finger along, accidentally opening up his text messages. A message from Sam was waiting, asking how he was. Dean scoffed, typing the first thing that came to mind and sending it, before tossing his phone on top of the laptop and falling asleep.

...

The next morning, Dean woke up, his head thumping from the over-imbibing of alcohol. Even worse, The first thing he woke up to was the thought of Cas. Unlike his nightmare that woke him up first, this dream was soft, it was intimate. It left Dean wanting for more.

Dean reached for his phone, picking it up and cursing when he realized it was dead. He plugged it in and pushed himself out of bed, making his way to the kitchen.

A blur of long brunette hair dashed up to Dean, pulling him into a tight squeeze. "I am so proud of you." Eileen pulled back and smiled, looking up at Dean. "What changed?"

Dean tilted his head and signed. "What are you talking about?"

"Cas texted me this morning. He told me what you said to him." Eileen looked as though she were about to burst. "He can't wait to get home."

"Not to rain on anyone's parade here, 'Leen, but I didn't text Cas last night. I texted Sam."

"No, you didn't." Sam walked past and shook his head in the negative.

Dean shook his head. "But I sent Sam a message. I said that 'I'm going to spend the rest of my life alone.'"

"Clearly not." Eileen shook her head. "I know I can't hear, but I'm sure his phone didn't go off." She pointed towards Dean's room. "Go grab your phone?"

"Uh, it died, it won't have much of a charge." Dean contested, afraid to go grab his phone. When Eileen didn't drop her hand, his shoulders fell, and he slunk back to his room. He grabbed his phone and powered it on.

Eileen had followed behind and sat on his bed. "So, what message did you send?"

"I don't know." Dean turned to face Eileen so she could read his lips as he went through his phone. "Waiting for it to finish booting up." His phone started, and his alert for his text messages went off. Dean pressed the icon, pulling up the inbox. A text from Cas was waiting for him. "'Leen, I can't look."

"You should see who you sent that message to, at least."

Dean looked through his inbox. There was no sent message to Sam, none to any of his other recent contacts. He took a deep breath, trying to ease his shaking as he clicked on his text to Cas. "What did I do?" His jaw dropped as the message loaded. "No... no, no, no."

"What?" Eileen grabbed the phone out of Dean's hand, and smiled brightly as she read the message in full. "Dean, this is a good thing!"

"What's a good thing?" Dean shook his head. "I've ruined everything." Dean took his phone back and read off the screen. "I sent him, 'I'm going to spend the rest of my life loving you.' I fucked up!"

Eileen shook her head vehemently. "No, you typed him the truth. And he responded in kind. I know what it says, Dean."

"It's not real." Dean looked back and forth between Eileen and his phone. "He's just being polite. Or he means it as friends."

"'And I, you, Dean?'" Eileen shot an incredulous look at Dean. "How many times do you have to be told he loves you for you to believe it? And that's from him, nonetheless."

"Like I said, he's being polite." Dean reached under his bed and pulled out his duffel.

"Dean, what are you doing?"

"Leaving." Dean signed, not trusting his voice. He grabbed his laptop off his nightstand and tossed it into his duffel. When Eileen grabbed his arm, he stopped and shook his head.

"Dean. He's coming home tonight. You can't admit your feelings then leave." Eileen chided.

Dean tossed a few more items into his bag. "Tell him I was drunk."

"You're still in PJs." Eileen pointed at his clothes.

Dean looked down at himself. "I'm decent enough." He grabbed his keys and stormed out of his room. Eileen didn't follow, Dean figured she was probably running to get Sam. He entered the garage, grumbling that he didn't get dressed, and threw his duffle in the back of the Impala. He slid in the driver's side and started Baby up, listening to the rumble of her engine and hoping it would calm his nerves.

As he pulled out of the garage, Dean saw Sam and Eileen finally catch up to him, just to be left behind. The look on his brother's face was probably his best bitchface to date, and Eileen looked heartbroken.

At least they matched his inner feelings.

...

Dean had picked a direction and drove. His brain apparently set to auto-drive, as several hours later, he found himself pulling up to Jody's cabin. He pulled out his phone and dialed Jody's number. She picked up on the first ring.

"Dean! Normally, you're supposed to call before you pull up to the front of my house."

"Yeah, sorry, Jodes. I kinda just drove." Dean let out a sigh. "Am I crashing anything important if I ask to stay a night or two?"

"Get your ass in here, Winchester. I'll go set up the guest room." The phone disconnected, and Dean chuckled for the first time since the day before. He parked Baby next to Jody's truck and hopped out, and grabbed his duffel. He looked down at himself and slightly cursed the fact that he didn't take the time to put on actual pants.

The door opened, and Jody welcomed him with open arms. "Casual Friday at the Bunker?"

"Jodes, you have no idea." Dean let himself be pulled into a hug, then pulled into the house. He took a whiff, and frowned. "Are you sure I'm not crashing something? Smells like you're cooking for an occasion."

"Donna's coming over for the weekend." Jody smiled shyly. "Alex and Patience took a girl's trip, and Claire's on a hunt. So we have the house to ourselves."

"With all the hard work you two do, you guys deserve more time to destress. Time with your best friend sounds like a dream." Dean followed Jody to the guest room. "Wait, won't Donna need the room? I can take the couch."

A blush formed across Jody's cheeks. "Yeah, about that." A car horn sounded from outside. "That's probably Donna. You take the room, get... decent, then join us downstairs."

"Yeah, sure thing." Dean watched as Jody left the room and tossed his bag on the bed. He pulled out his phone, finding several missed text messages and a missed call. He set the phone on the bed and pulled out clothes to change and meet up with his favorite two sheriffs.

"Dean!" Donna waved as Dean rejoined the sheriffs, "Been a hot minute. Missed you." She walked over and hugged Dean, bringing another smile to his face. "What brings you out to Jody's neck of the woods, in PJs, nonetheless?"

Dean shook his head. "Really, Jodes, ratting me out like that?"

"What can I say? It's not every day I have a Winchester roll up in PJs, asking to crash." Jody shrugged. "Hell, it's not every day one of you guys comes to see me."

"Sorry, Jody." Dean hung his head. "We've been busy."

"Oh, we know sunshine," Donna moved to sit next to Jody. "You've missed a couple of things, and Jodio here says it's good I showed up when I did."

Dean looked back and forth between the two women. "What's going on? Did something happen? Are you guys okay?"

"We're fine, Dean. In fact, I think we're better than ever." Jody took Donna's hand. "We're together."

"Uh, yeah. You're sitting here in the house. Together." Donna giggled at Dean's response, and two plus two clicked in Dean's brain. "Wait. You two are an item. You're dating."

"Yes. Which is why Donna didn't need the room." Jody confirmed.

Dean rested his face in his hands. "So I am intruding. I'll grab my stuff and keep on going to Rufus' cabin."

"You absolutely will not, Dean Winchester." Donna put on her authority voice and Dean froze. "You came here, you're frazzled, and you were looking for someone to help you. You've got us."

Jody pointed at the chair. "Sit and spill willingly, or know that we're going to drag it out of you eventually."

Dean sat and told them everything. He told them about the case, he told them about the drunk text, and when Jody asked, he told the pair that he's loved Cas for as long as he can remember. Dean knew it didn't help his case, drunkenly confessing his love and running, but at least Donna and Jody weren't judging him loudly.

"I have a question, Dean." Donna had leaned forward at some point during his story, her elbows resting on her knees. "Cas admitted to loving you in return. Why did you run?"

"You're not supposed to fall in love with your best friend." Dean shook his head. "Hell, I'm not even supposed to have friends."

"So, are you saying Donna and I aren't supposed to love each other? What about Sam and Eileen?" Jody glared at Dean, raising her eyebrow in a challenge.

"I'm not supposed to. It's been beaten in my head that I was never meant for that life." Dean shook his head. "Of course, you two can fall in love. It makes sense for you two."

Both Jody and Donna raised their eyebrows in concern, but only Donna spoke next. "Dean, why can't you fall in love with someone? You're human. You clearly enjoyed the feeling with Cas on the case. Hell, anyone can see that you love him when you talk about him, the way you light up." Donna turned to look at Jody when she felt her hand get squeezed. "You're allowed to love Cas. Especially if Cas loves you in return.

"It's not that simple." Dean shook his head. "It's never that simple."

"Dean, where's your phone?" Jody asked, point-blank.

"Back in the guest room." Before he could comprehend what was going on, Jody bolted out of the living room, and Donna was sitting on his lap. "What are you two doing?!"

"What's it look like? Jody's grabbing your phone." Donna smirked at Dean flailing beneath her. "You're more than welcome to join us for dinner tonight. Especially cause I'm sure Jodio cooked for too many, but tomorrow, you're going home and getting your man."

"Got it." Jody walked back into the living room, swiping around on Dean's phone. "Oof, Sam's not happy with you."

Dean poked Donna in the sides, getting a giggle out of her, but not budging her. "How the hell did you get in there? It's protected!"

"Choose an easier pin than 6776, Dean." Jody smirked. "Eileen wants to make sure you're okay. I'm responding to her." She went quiet for a moment as she typed in a response and sent it. "And Cas wants to know where you're at, he'll come to you." Jody looked at Donna before looking at Dean. "Does Cas still respond to prayers, Dean?"

"Don't you dare." Dean froze. "Please, I'll leave first thing in the morning. I'll go back to the bunker. Please, just let me be here on my own. Please."

Jody continued typing. "Just messaging Eileen to not tell Cas where you are, but letting her know you are safe." She paused. "And that you're heading out in the morning to go back to the bunker."

"Are you two done torturing me?" Dean frowned, resting his forehead on Donna's shoulder. "I just don't want to think about this anymore."

Donna stood up and offered her hand to Dean, pulling him to his feet when he took it. "Then, we'll drop it unless you bring it up again." She hugged him. "But, we want you to know that you're not in the wrong for loving Cas."

Dean frowned but acknowledged Donna's comment. "I hear you, D-Train. You too, Jodes."

"Good. 'Cause dinner's almost finished, and I'm not getting yelled at for burning it." Jody made her way to the kitchen, leaving Dean with Donna.

"She's not going to burn it. She never does." Donna hooked her arm around Dean's and led him to the kitchen. "You can help me set the table, and I'll let you pick the beers."

The trio sat down and enjoyed their meal, sharing stories of recent hunts, of how Donna and Jody came to be a couple, how the girls were doing. Dean even let slip that he thought Sam might propose to Eileen soon. Jody and Donna went above and beyond, taking care of Dean, although it was supposed to be their weekend alone.

In the morning, Dean woke up, the smell of bacon and pancakes permeating through the house. He forgot for a half a second that he wasn't in the bunker, before opening his eyes and taking in the sight of Jody's guest room. Dean let out a sigh and rubbed his face with his hand before sitting up in bed. He grabbed his phone, scrolling through his missed calls and text messages. Cas had sent him another one, and Dean's hands trembled as he opened it.

"I am looking forward to you coming home. I miss you, and I love you, Dean."

Dean's heart fluttered. Cas had reaffirmed his feelings for Dean. He hopped out of bed, remembering to change into jeans and a teeshirt and throwing on a flannel, before throwing everything back into his duffel. Dean ran down the stairs with his bag, only to be stopped by Jody before running out the door.

"Eat first, then go home and get your angel."

After scarfing down his food, and leftovers packed up for the trip, Dean gave Jody and Donna hugs before rushing out to Baby. He had an almost six-hour drive that he intended to make in five.

When Dean pulled into the garage, he felt his whole body start to shake. He had taken the five-hour drive to figure out what to say to Cas, to figure out how to make sure he wasn't dreaming, and he wasn't any closer to finding closure. He placed Baby into park, leaving his duffel in the back and grabbing the food to take to the kitchen.

As he padded through the halls, Dean hoped that he could make it to the kitchen then Cas' room without being stopped. He was partially lucky. Eileen was in the kitchen, reading and looked up when Dean entered. She gave him a look, and in response, he held up a finger, asking her to wait a second.

Dean put the leftovers in the fridge and turned back to Eileen and signed without speaking. "Where's Cas?"

"You going to break his heart?" She questioned, also remaining silent.

"I don't ever want to do that."

Eileen nodded. "He should be in his room. He was worried when he didn't get a response from you. We didn't tell him anything."

"Thank you." Dean replied and started heading towards Cas' room. He stopped in front of Bedroom 15, only slightly hesitating before knocking on Cas' door.

A click and the twist of the doorknob, and Cas opened the door. The angel's face broke into a smile when he realized that it was Dean who had knocked and was waiting for him on the other side. "You're back."

Dean closed the distance between himself and Cas, his hands gently cupping Cas' face as Dean claimed his lips in a heated kiss. Cas returned the kiss, and Dean felt himself melt against the angel, every dream of his coming true for real.

"I take it you missed me too?" Cas asked as he pulled away.

"Cas, you have no idea." Dean rested his forehead against Cas' as he softly traced his thumbs over Cas' cheeks.

"Do you feel like you're dreaming, Dean?" Cas rested his hands on Dean's waist.

"I hope not." Dean stole another kiss as he walked Cas back into the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him.

...

The next morning, Dean woke up in an unfamiliar space again. This time, there was an unusual warmth pressed up against his back. Dean slowly opened his eyes and inhaled through his nose. The smell of Ozone enveloped him, and Dean happily remembered that he had fallen asleep in his angel's arms, in his angel's room.

Dean snuggled back against Cas, savoring the warmth and comfort that came with Cas. Dean felt at peace, he felt content, and most of all, Dean felt home.

[cheeseflavouredjuul]

more than enough.

a college part bokuaka fic that no one asked for but everyone needed :) 

Akaashi hadn’t wanted to come to this dumb party, but as a stupid senior in high school, he’d promised to see Bokuto once a week minimum and he was especially busy this week and it just happened to be a Saturday and he just happened to have no valid excuse for his friend. So, when Bokuto called him saying he was out the front of his college’s dorm, Akaashi threw on the first pair of presentable pants and matching top, raked his hair back and reminded himself he didn’t actually care what Bokuto’s friends thought of him and left.

As usual, Bokuto was over the moon to see him, and if Akaashi was being honest with himself he had missed him more than usual too. So, when he clung to Akaashi a little tighter and for a while longer, it was enough to remind him why he’d made that promise all those years ago.

By the time they made it back to Bokuto’s campus the party was in full swing, drunken yelling and loud EDM music blared through the building and out onto the street. But neither of them wasted time soaking in the scene, Bokuto grabbing Akaashi by the shoulder and navigating him through the house and out the back where his friends sat.

As usual, the boys dominated in beer pong for a couple of rounds before they got kicked off for still being sober. so Bokuto’s friends turned to another method, a friendly game of Russian roulette and with some egging on they were at opposite ends of the table with a shot glass covered lazy Suzan placed between them.

“rules are simple, you spin the lazy Suzan and whichever glass lands closest to you, you have to drink.” Bokuto explained like they haven’t played the game hundreds of times. After fifteen minutes the two of them were a sputtering mess as Akaashi took the final shot, straight vodka.

Laughter erupted in the backroom and Akaashi took a bow, settling on the couch between Bokuto and an even bigger guy he’d seen on Bokuto's team, he was introduced as Daniel but as soon as they were acquainted he stood and left them as the others migrated inside for the keg chugging contest. Neither Bokuto nor Akaashi moved as Akaashi explained his newest writing gig and Bokuto rested his head on his leg as he listened intently.

As the conversation changed from work to school, to Bokuto springing the fact the Akaashi would be his plus-one for the Olympics over in Rio. Akaashi was shocked but he wasn’t surprised, they’d always talked about going together when they were younger, but as Akaashi found his love for writing and comics, he found the idea of watching him win from the sidelines much more appealing. While a small part of Bokuto mourned the thought of them playing together once again, he was still happy for Akaashi and his choices and over the moon for his success.

As Akaashi went to talk about all the fun things they could do in Rio, Daniel came back with a smaller girl by his side and interrupted.

“Ak- er, Bokuto your friend’s been asked for inside.” He says and he throws Akaashi a forgiving look for forgetting his name. Bokuto sat up and quirked a brow towards him.

“Tell them he’s with me and he doesn’t smoke that shit, and he definitely won’t take whatever they’ve got.” He laughs and Daniel shrugs his shoulders.

“Nah man, it’s a girl, I think she’s in a class with Kane.” He offers and before he knows what’s going on Akaashi’s being pulled to his feet and whisked off inside before he leaves Bokuto with a; “if I’m not back in ten I’m probably dead and you’ll need to come to find me.” He jokes and Bokuto waves him off, averting his glance to another one of his classmates.

“What does this girl want?” he asks and Daniel shrugs.

“No idea, she’s waiting for you in the bathroom. The second door on the right.” He explains and Akaashi is filled with dread, nothing good ever happens in bathrooms at party’s, he’s all too aware of that. But still, something in him wills itself up the stairs and into the bathroom. But before he closes the door he’s met with an eerily familiar face.

“Akaashi Keiji.”

“William Sato?” he asks and is met with an icy glare as the other man leans past him and shuts the door, “don’t tell me you’re the ‘girl’ who wanted to see me!” Akaashi laughs.

William wasn’t as entertained by his question as he backed Akaashi into the corner of the room, “when I saw you two chatting away like old friends I was reminded of high school, remember back then? Such good times.”

“What’s this about, William, I’m here for Bokuto not for your petty bullshit.” He explains but William is unmoving and reasonably larger than Akaashi so he had no hope of overpowering him, “we’re all adults, give it a rest.”

“No, I’m not giving anything a rest till I’ve had my way.”

“Oh yeah, and what do you want?” he asked unmoved by his attempt at being sinister.

“I wanna know, what do you think Bokuto would do if I took a couple of swings at his beloved vice-captain?” William asked as he lunged at Akaashi, stopping meet centimetres from his face, “leave some nice little bruises on his little bitch.” He spat and Akaashi decided he’d had enough and kneed him in the groin and shoved him back into the shower door.

“Who’s to say he’d care at all, huh?” Akaashi said as he shook him and pinned him still, “just because he didn’t pick you, doesn’t mean you need to act like this, I’m no one’s little bitch you salty fuck.” Akaashi’s words stabbed into William’s conscience and he snapped, tripping Akaashi as he shoved him backwards, looming over him as he thudded to the ground.

“If you’re so against my abuse, how about I deal directly with Bokuto huh, might take out a tendon or something, sure he’d understand my pain then, crap he could kiss the Olympics goodbye for sure!” William said inertly as he pulls out a pocket knife from his sleeve and flicks it open, “or you could do him a solid and take it like a man.” He sneers and Akaashi tries to get to his feet, but William kicks him back and he slams his head on the ceramic towel rail, then again and William grabs a fistful of hair and throws him back, now his shoulder slams into the towel rail and he hears it smash. Akaashi’s eyes were on William but he didn’t need to see the rail to know it was broken.

“Your psychotic!” Akaashi growls and William laughs kneeling to give Akaashi nowhere to run to, “what do you hope to achieve by these senseless acts of violence?” He asked as his hands searched for a shard of the towel rail when his hands met the cold sharp ceramic he felt for the biggest piece and took it in his hand.

William stops laughing and punches Akaashi straight in the nose, “senseless, am I joke to you?” He asks as he lifts another fist, landing another hard punch into his left eye.

Akaashi smelt pepper and fought the urge to cup a hand under his now dripping nose, “yes, you are a joke to me, how am I supposed to take you seriously.” He replied and William tried another punch but Akaashi clamped down and his hand slammed into the tile behind him. but before William could recoil, Akaashi had the shard of the ceramic towel rail neatly angled against his chin, “he picked me for a reason, and it isn’t that I’m hot and you’re not, it’s because you suck at volleyball and show no sign of minimising your ginormous ego enough to listen to anyone’s advice.” Akaashi spoke low as he grabbed the hand he wielded the knife with and pried open his hand, taking it from his grasp and shoving him away.

Like clockwork, the door swung open and Bokuto entered the scene, looking wide-eyed and confused as he tried to process what he was seeing, but before he could speak Akaashi stood, “work on your form and you might just make next season’s line up.” Akaashi said as he walked over to Bokuto who’d now noticed the blood still streaming from Akaashi’s nose and the switchblade he definitely didn’t own.

“It’s been twelve minutes and well-”

Akaashi's hand was on his right peck and Bokuto was being shoved back and pulled down the hall.

“Akaashi?” he asked as he trudged after his bleeding friend. But he didn’t stop, he didn’t answer, he just kept walking, so Bokuto waited until they were close to his room before he sped up and stopped Infront of him, pulling him back into his empty dorm room.

“Keiji, what’s going on?” He asked as he trapped him between the door, “talk to me, please?”

“Why did you pick me?” His voice was rushed and his mind was obviously somewhere else, his eyes stung with tears but Akaashi still managed to wear a demanding look, but he knew he’d never manage to fool Bokuto.

“What?”

“All those years ago, why’d you fucking pick me!” Akaashi broke as his shoulder slumped and he landed an unmotivated punch into Bokuto’s chest. Bokuto paused as he couldn’t answer, his mind was too concentrated on the darkening purple that had now settled under his left eye and Akaashi’s shaking hands. Bokuto laughed humourlessly as he backed away and sat Akaashi on his bed, leaving him to go to the freezer for frozen peas. Giving himself enough time to think of the reason. When he returned Akaashi was laying down and his eyes were closed and brow furrowed as he grumbled something Bokuto couldn't quite hear.

“I don’t know why I just.” He paused as he helped Akaashi upright and held the bag of peas against his eye, he swatted his hand away and held it himself. “This is going to sound cheesy but I remember seeing you and your mother sitting on our bench at that game you guys attended in high school, you looked so bored and uninterested, but after I hit that first jump float I looked back over to you again without even thinking and well, I haven’t stopped looking since.” Bokuto smiled down at his hands.

“That’s so dumb.” Akaashi laughed and Bokuto would’ve been taken aside by his laughter after being so honest, but Akaashi was laughing while he held a bloody tissue to his nose, so he wasn’t too concerned.

“Well after you decided you wanted to play for us, I decided that I wanted you to play for me, to play beside me, as an equal.” He explained as Akaashi put the cold bag of peas down and cupped his hand under Bokuto’s chin. “Is that why he hit you?” He asked as he lifted his head to meet Akaashi’s deep expression.

“As an equal, I was never equal, how could I ever be equal to you?” Akaashi laughed as he searched Bokuto’s face for something he wasn’t sure of, he just couldn’t look away. “Koutarou, I always looked up to you, I think after that game I put you on this pedestal and haven’t taken you off since, you know it still shocks me that you’re going to the Olympics next fall and you’re sitting here with me, so close I could-” Akaashi cut himself off as he pulled his hand away.

“Could what?”

“I remember when you walked me home the first time; you stood by the gate and waited until I was inside safe, I never understood why you waited so long, why’d you pick me?” he asked again and Bokuto’s eyes widened and he placed a hand on Akaashi’s knee and he leant closer, understanding that he wasn’t asking about volleyball anymore.

“I chose you because I didn’t have any other choice!”

“But you did, you could’ve picked anyone, the entire school threw themselves at your feet, but you picked me, why’d you write them off but not me?” Tears began to well in Akaashi’s eyes as he begged to spit out the right words, “why didn’t they make the cut.”

“They’re not you, I don’t want it if it’s not you.” He replied and Akaashi wouldn’t have been any wiser if his lungs had shrivelled up and died because at this moment he’d forgot how to breathe, “I wish you could see what I see, Keiji.” Bokuto’s words were low and heavy as Akaashi breathed out harshly.

“No.” he managed as he stood abruptly as he grabbed his shaking hands in one another, “don’t say things you don’t mean.” He sounded offended as he stood motionless with his head pointed down.

Bokuto stood in front of him as he struggled to find the right words, “I don’t know when I became this person you’ve idolised but I’ve always been just here with you.” He said as he placed a hand on Akaashi’s shoulder, “I chose you because no one else would be good enough.”

“I’m not good enough, that’s the problem.” He replied angrily as he shrugged Bokuto off him and glared at him. Bokuto was taken back by the sadness in his eyes, he’d always hated seeing Akaashi sad but this was something else.

“You are more than enough!”

“Stop lying to yourself, I could never be enough, I’d only bring you down with me.” He tried to pass Bokuto as everything got all too much for him, but Bokuto stepped across and Akaashi slammed into him. Akaashi stepped back and laughed, “do you remember that girl from yearbook club, she did the spread for your senior year, well I thought you two hit it off really well, in fact, Kuroo and I placed bets on whether or not you guys would get together, well she was really really nice, where’d she go wrong?”

“Because she wasn’t you, Akaashi. I don’t know how many times I can say this without getting through to you but; fuck the Olympics, when you stood by my side I didn’t want anything else, I just wanted to be with you, I don’t care what happens after that game, as long as your still by my side I know everything will be fine.” He said as Bokuto felt his cheeks reddening with anger.

“For fuck sake, why?” Akaashi yelled back and something in Bokuto snapped, he took four steps forward, breathed deeply and for the first time in four years he gave into his feelings as he pressed his lips to Akaashi’s and kissed him with every ounce of his being.

“Because I love you, and I have loved you ever since high school and I’ll probably love you until the day I die.” He said as he broke the kiss and looked to Akaashi in fear. “I chose you because even if I wanted to I don’t think I could pick anyone else.”

Akaashi’s eyes were set on Bokuto's yellow eyes, he’d seen them in many different lights but with the dim lights of his room, they looked so dark.

“You love me?”

“Yes Akaashi!” he laughed.

“How could you ever love me.” He muttered as the tears that built in his eyes finally fell, and before he knew it he was sobbing uncontrollably as he felt his knees give in and fall to the floor and Bokuto swallowed him in a hug. Akaashi wished he was a stronger man, strong enough to leave and save Bokuto the hassle of loving him, but as his cold hands brushed his warm forehead holding him against his chest, holding him so tightly. Akaashi wondered if Bokuto could actually love someone like him, someone so much lower than himself.

“How could I not?”