#I use 'may' bc the story may continue with another studio? but it's up in the air | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

seita · 4 years ago

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the contract girlfriend | semi eita (m.)

˒ pairing: semi eita/reader ˒ genre: angst, fluff, smut ˒ wordcount: 𝟺𝟹𝟹𝟷 ˒ tags: friends2lovers, fake dating, musician!eita ˒ cw: dirty talk, loss of virginity, virgin kink if u squint: sweet talking, pet names, mean girl ex, mutual pining, unrequited love(?), angst with a happy ending, UNEDITED

+ note: this is a collab along with the other writers for the kkc! i would also like to thank @bokutobabie 𝖿for her help with this plot bc it was kickin’ my ass.

˖˖ summary: when he was an unknown musician, his girlfriend left him. now that he’s made it, he wants to make her jealous at a fancy party so he can get her back.unfortunately, he asks you to be his fake date. the downside? you have a very real crush on him.

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collab masterlist!

“I have a proposition,” is never a sentence you want to hear when you sit down to lunch with your best friend. Especially when that friend is Semi Eita.

“What..?” you ask apprehensively, taking the cup of coffee he’d obviously gotten to bribe you. You took it regardless, not willing to pass up the offer of free coffee.

“Nana is gonna be at the party this weekend,” he muttered, swirling his fingertips around the rim of his cup. You felt your heart drop into the pit of your stomach at his words, “I want you to come and pretend to be my date.”

Just as you’d expected. Not something you wanted to hear.

Nana was Eita’s first love, his first serious relationship, really. They got together when he was fresh out of highschool, the two of them spending almost all of their time together.

It was when his career as a musician was just beginning, he was playing small gigs and there was nothing really successful. But he was happy. And he thought she was too.

Until she dumped him in favor of a much more famous man. He was a big movie producer and offered her a leading role in an upcoming film. Of course, she took the offer.

She would much rather be mingling with the rich and famous than be hanging out with “a nobody like him”, as she put it. You remembered the hurt Eita felt, the tears and heartbreak it took almost 3 years for him to get over.

“Why?” you finally asked with a sigh, “What will that accomplish?”

“Well if she gets jealous, she might want to get back with me,” he grinned impishly, shrugging his shoulders like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You recognized the look in his eyes, one of determination. So you sighed, nodding your head, “Alright, I’ll be your date.”

He beamed, uttering out endless thanks to you as you went on with your lunch until he decided to go back to the studio. He slipped his hat on low, making sure his mask was in place before hugging your goodbye and leaving you sitting alone at the table.

You sighed, downing the last of your coffee. Your spirits were low; you had no idea what to expect from this party.

Would she fall for it and run back into his arms now that he had had his big breakthrough and became mainstream? She surely must have known by now; his band was already breaking records, wracking up fans by the thousands, his songs were being played on the radio.

Maybe now that he was famous enough, she’d actually want to be with him. Not that she deserved him. And he didn’t deserve someone like that, either. He was too good for her, too good to be treated like that.

You let out another sigh and stood up, grabbing your purse from the back of the chair.

This was going to be painful. You weren’t sure how you would cope with pretending to be his girlfriend all for the sake of him getting back with her.

Surely your heart wouldn’t be able to take it.

Because as much as you tried to hide it, you were irrevocably in love with your best friend.

The entire getup was supplied to you by Eita; from the jewelry to the dress itself. You felt like a different person. Despite the fact he was your best friend, you hadn’t attended one of the big parties since his band’s breakout single.

This particular party wasn’t in celebration of his band, but he was invited regardless so naturally he went. He was still enjoying the high life and was getting used to tasting fame. You were glad it hadn’t actually affected his personality.

“You look nice today,” Tendou complimented with a breezy smile. He was nursing a glass of champagne, which was uncharacteristic to say the least. He had always been more of a whiskey kind of guy.

“Thanks,” you shrugged, “I’m not really a fan of this kind of thing.”

“I know,” he grinned, “You look terribly uncomfortable, that’s why I came over to be such a good pal and keep you company while your darling boyfriend is off galavanting with the people!”

You rolled your eyes, “He’s not my boyfriend, Satori.”

He giggled, taking glee in your embarrassment, “But you wish he was.”

“Are you already drunk?” you raise a brow, making him snicker.

Someone called his name from the crowd and he flashed you a knowing grin, “Eita may be too dim to see it, but the rest of us aren’t!”

You pout and find yourself alone once again. Looking around, you search for your ‘boyfriend’. Suddenly, a heavy arm falls across your shoulders and the familiar scent of his cologne reaches your nose.

“Hey, babygirl,” he coos, making your heart skip a beat at the pet name. He sounds so fond and you feel yourself smiling before he busts out laughing, shaking his head before letting his arm fall from your shoulders, “That’s just so weird. I dunno if I’ll be able to get through this tonight,” Ouch. “Anyway, Nana just arrived so…” he takes your hand but you can’t bring yourself to smile as you feel the ache in your heart at his words.

If he takes note of your deflated behavior, he doesn’t say anything, merely leading you over to the balcony. You breathe in the fresh air and feel the ache in your chest dull.

“Eita? Is that you?” a perky voice makes you cringe.

“Nana,” Eita breathes, tugging you against his side as she breaks through the crowd to stand in front of the two of you.

Her smile promptly disappears at the sight of you crowded in Eita’s arms.

“Eita...who’s this?” she asks, a smile returning but you can tell it’s plastic.

You remembered everything you had gone over with him before the party; the two of you had sat down for a few hours to sort out your story and rules. It had felt like you were making a binding contract with him when you told him no kissing on the lips. It was your only stipulation and you swore you saw a brief downward tug of his lips when you told him before he beamed and readily agreed.

Maybe you were imagining that disappointment in his eyes too.

“This is my girlfriend, _____,” Eita introduced, giving your arm an affectionate squeeze.

“Oh,” she gave you a strained smile and held out her hand for you to shake. When you slipped your hand into hers, she gave it a tense squeeze that made you flinch, “I’m Nana, Eita’s ex.”

“I’ve uh…” you cleared your throat and pulled your hand away, “I’ve heard stories about you.”

“All good I’m sure,” she replied flippantly before setting her sights on him once more, “We should totally catch up, you know? Reminisce about the good old times~”

The sultry, flirtatious undertone made your skin crawl. Even if you weren’t really dating, she thought you were and for her to not respect that made you angry. But still, Eita pulled away and placed a kiss against your temple that set your heart ablaze.

“Sure, why not?” he grinned and gave your hand a squeeze, “You go have some fun, sweetheart. I’ll catch up with you later.”

You gave him a hollow wave as he quickly vanished into the crowd without a second glance your way. You knew this was the end goal but still, to see him walking away hurt. A sense of rejection was seeded within you and you felt your spirits slowly being crushed.

It took all your power to continue on with the party until it felt acceptable to leave. Throughout the party, you kept getting glances of the two of them.

Eita wore a serene smile, his eyes sparkling as he looked at her. Whenever she looked at him with a flirtatious smile and a subtle caress, you felt jealousy pool in the core of your stomach. You wanted to march over there and scream “he’s mine!”. But you couldn’t, because he wasn’t really yours.

He was only pretending to be yours so he could have her.

Your phone vibrated as you downed your final glass of wine, making you look at the screen with a frown.

“I’m heading to Nana’s apartment for the night! See if Satori can give you a ride home, thanks for the help!!”

Your jaw ached from how hard you were forcing yourself to keep from crying. When you tried to find the elusive redhead, you found he was drunk and dancing with two girls so you decided to leave him be and simply call an Uber.

For just a short time, you had simply been a contract girlfriend for him to use. Though you knew it was fake, it still felt so nice to be called his.

So you went home, removing your expensive clothing like Cinderella after the ball and decided to relax on the couch. It was only a little past midnight when you got out of the shower, turning on the TV to watch whatever late night nonsense was playing.

Eita thought that being with Nana again would be everything he wanted. But as he laid beside her, her head resting on his naked chest, strangely all he could think of was you.

When he asked you to pretend to be his date, he hadn’t thought of the possibility of how it would really feel. Sure, he had touched you before, naturally. Sometimes he hugged you and held your hand. But that night, when he placed the kiss against your head, the way your eyes lit up in response had his heart stuttering when he thought back to it.

Truth be told, when you told him he couldn’t kiss you he felt so...disappointed. He had thought of assigning the same rule but decided against it at the last moment, secretly thinking about how nice it may feel to kiss you.

He had quickly dashed that though because of how wrong it was to think of you like that.

Yet there he was, thinking of you with his ex girlfriend back in his arms again.

“Eita?” Nana asked, lifting her head to look drowsily at him, “Are you okay?”

“Um...yeah,” he clears his throat, “I should probably get going.”

“Why?” she whines, “Don’t worry about her.”

“Huh? Who?” he asks, confused.

She giggles and clings to his arm, “Your girlfriend! She doesn’t have to know!”

His heart ached at those words -- true, you weren’t really dating but he felt like he had done something wrong. And for some reason Nana’s blatant disregard that he had cheated with her made him nauseous.

“I...I just want to see if she made it home safely,” he gave her a tight lipped smile and picked up his phone.

She rested against the pillow, head propped up on her hand as she watched him dial you. When you didn’t answer, he gave a frustrated sigh and dialed Satori instead.

It rang a few times before the slurred voice of his best friend answered, “H-Hey man, what’s up?”

“Satori, did you drop _____ off okay?” Eita asked.

The redhead made a confused sound over the line, “What’re you talkin’ about? She never asked me to take her anywhere.”

“What?” Eita frowned, “Did you see her leave the party?”

“Gotta tell ya, man, I wasn’t watchin’ her,” Tendou replied, a feminine giggle in the background making Eita frown, “Wasn’t that supposed to be your job?”

Eita sighed, shaking his head, “Alright, dude, just...let me know if you hear from her.”

“Hah? Why would she call me?” Satori chuckled, “Why don’t you just check on her? Better safe than sorry...I mean, she’s a cute girl, you never know what kinda scoundrels were eyeing her in that pretty little dress tonight. If i was a less honorable friend, she would be the one in my bed right now!”

Eita scoffed and hung up as his friend started cackling gleefully over the line. Eita stood up, shaking off Nana’s grabby hands as he slipped his jeans back on.

“You’re not going back to her, are you?” she pouted.

Eita sighed, “I gotta check on her. No one knows where she went off to.”

“She’s a big girl, c’mon Eita~” she purred, letting the sheet fall from her bare body as she crawled towards him.

He shook his head and threw his shirt on, grabbing his keys off of her dresser before moving to the door, “I gotta see her.”

He ignored her obnoxious whining as he bolted out the door. Any sleepiness that was in his system had evaporated at the worry he felt over you.

The drive to your apartment was quick enough, it went by in a blur. He took two steps at a time up to your place on the 3r floor, not patient enough to wait for the elevator.

The knock on your door made you jump. Throwing the pillow you held in your lap aside, you checked through the peephole to see a familiar head of sandy blonde hair.

Pulling the door opened, you looked at him with wide eyes, “Eita? Aren’t you supposed to be with--”

“I couldn’t get a hold of you,” he breathed, stepping past you to enter your living room.

“And?” you laughed, shrugging your shoulders.

“I got worried! Why didn’t you go home with Satori?” he sighed, sitting on your couch with a huff.

You chuckled again, though it was humorless, “He looked like he was having fun, I didn’t want to impose.”

He sighs and relaxes against the couch. As you sit next to him, for a second things feel normal.

You almost feel okay, as if you could forget about everything happening. It’s so easy to forget your crush on your best friend and the fact he wanted to be with another woman.

It was easy to forget it all until it came rushing back into your face in the form of Nana.

You and Eita were having a lunch date, as was normal for the two of you. Unfortunately, amid his retelling of a story you had heard a million times over, she showed up with an obnoxious screech of his name.

“Eita!” she squealed and rushed over to him, throwing her arms around his shoulders.

You let out a soft sigh, your eyes falling to your half-finished plate.

“Nana…” he greeted, eyes wide in shock, “H-How did you find me? What’re you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you, silly!” she chirped, taking a seat in his lap in a way that was far too comfortable. Suddenly, her gaze shifted to you and the smile vanished off of her face, “Oh, you’re here.”

“Nana…” Eita sighed but didn’t make any move to get off of him.

“What? I thought you were going to break up with her?” she whined loudly, making your cheeks burn as people looked over at the two of you, “You said you were going to dump her!”

“I--” Eita started.

“You should go,” Nana grinned at you, shrugging her shoulders as she hugged Eita closer to her, “Seriously, he’s mine now. He was fucking me at that party instead of you.”

Although nothing about your relationship that night was real, the humiliation you felt at that very moment was. She was smug that she had gotten your boyfriend to cheat on you and was making a spectacle of her victory.

Biting your lip, you reached behind you to grab your purse, “I-I’ll see you later, Eita.”

“______ wait!” he called but you were already rushing towards the entrance.

You had no idea that he was hot on your heels until you reached your apartment. You went to close it only for the foot to intercept it. Looking over your shoulder, you found Eita panting before he was pushing the door open completely.

“_____ I--” he paused, “Why are you crying?”

“I am?” you wiped under your eyes and frowned when you felt the moisture there, promptly wiping it away, “Sh-She completely made a fool of me, Eita. I don’t know what you ever saw in her and I don’t know why I helped you get back with her.”

“I know, look…” he ran a hand through his already messed up hair, “I feel the same, alright? I’m sorry I pulled you into all this, _____, I really am. Alright, I told her to get lost.”

You sighed and took a seat on your couch, “She only wanted you back because you’re famous now. You know that right?”

He chuckled and sat down, nodding his head, “I guess I was just...hoping for something I guess.”

“What?” you asked.

He shrugged, “I don’t really remember anymore,” he confessed.

“Well,” you didn’t quite know what to say, simply leaning back on the couch to appear relaxed, “I always wondered why you didn’t date after her anyway.”

He shrugged once more. How was he meant to say that he didn’t want anyone impeding on his time with you?

“I guess...no one really came along, you know?”

You nodded, “I guess it’s the same for me.”

He snorted, “You’ve never even dated anyone before.”

“You don’t have to bring that up!” you whined, playfully shoving his shoulder.

He laughed, melodic and pretty, “I think it’s cute. What’s your story then?”

“Eita, we’ve been friends since high school, you know everything about me,” you smiled, feeling your cheeks warm at the soft look he was giving you.

“Yeah but…” he bit his lip, fingers inching closer towards you, “You’re...pretty and sweet. There’s plenty of good looking guys around me that have tried flirting with you before. Hell, Satori even said he was into you.”

You smiled and shook your head, “No, none of them are right…”

“Who is right then?” he asked, unable to hide the hopefulness in his voice.

“Eita…” the smile falls from your lips, your heart hammering in your chest as he moved closer towards you, “I…”

“Hm?” he hummed, his nose brushing against yours, breath fanning over your lips.

“I...I won’t regret this, will I?” you asked.

His breathing stuttered against your skin and he shook his head, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek, “You won’t.”

After those words left his mouth, he brought your lips to his in a sweet kiss that was perfect for a first. You could tell he was experienced, knowing exactly how to move.

There was something sweet lingering on his tongue that you found utterly addictive.

You wish you could find it strange or even scary to wind up in bed with your best friend. The fact your entire relationship was going to be changing should have concerned you but all you felt was anticipation.

He hovered over your body, the two of you stripping your clothes with unhurried ease. His body was firm from working out, a habit he never let go of from his time as a volleyball player.

His hands were calloused and warm as they touched your body, caressing your breasts in a way no one ever had. The feeling of him thumbing over your nipples had your back arching in arousal, your panties becoming soaked embarrassingly fast.

He was hard and throbbing in his jeans, the constricting material almost painful but all he really cared about in that moment was seeing all of you.

Hooking his thumbs into the band of your panties, he pulled the material down. He cursed under his breath at the strings of slick that attached to the fabric.

“You’re so wet,” he breathed, licking his lips as he tossed your panties over his shoulder to be lost somewhere in your room.

“Sh-Shut up, don’t tease me…” you mumble, feeling embarrassed by your body’s own reaction to him.

He smiles, pressing a soft kiss against your knee, “I’m not, baby. It’s sweet...I love knowing you react so honestly to me.”

“Eita…” you whined, reaching up to cover your face as he spread your legs.

“Hmm?” he bites his lip, sliding two fingers between your folds to spread them apart.

Your hole clenched around nothing, drooling more slick for him to gather on his fingertips. He used it to rub smooth circles around your clit, the sweet moan that fell from your lips at the pleasure he so easily gave you.

“I’ll get you nice and prepped, baby,” he cooed, the nickname making your heart soar.

You were so wet, making it easy for him to slide two thick fingers into your pretty cunt. You clamped down tight around the digits, making his cock throb at the mere thought of what that would feel like around his hard cock.

Twisting his wrist, he crooked his fingers up to hit your sweet spot, his thumb coming up to circle around your clit. The inexperience of your body made it so easy for him to bring you to the edge.

You had never felt this, no one had ever touched you so intimately so your body was more reactive than ever.

Reaching down, you wrapped your hand around his wrist, meeting his gaze with wide eyes. He smiled, capturing his bottom lip between his teeth.

“You cumming?” he asked, though he could very easily feel your walls spasming around him.

Still, you nodded, mouth falling open but no sound escaping, “E-Eita…”

“C’mon, baby,” he groaned, fasting his pace to fuck your dripping cunt. The sounds were wet, lewd and if you were with anyone else you would have been completely ashamed. But it was Eita, the person you trusted the most in the world. He groaned as your body began to quake, “Let it go, pretty girl. Cum for me, that’s it.”

At his encouragement, you released with a shrill whine of his name. He eagerly fucked your gushing cunt through the high, only slowing when your back met the bed again.

Pulling his fingers from your hole, he was mindful of your sensitivity. He still couldn’t resist placing a fleeting kiss against your throbbing clit before sitting up to meet you for another heated kiss.

Your body was still trembling as you wrapped your arms around his neck, your thighs spread open around his waist. His clothed cock hovered above your sensitive core and he made sure the rough material of his jeans didn’t make contact.

“Please, Eita, c-can we…?” you asked, biting your lip, too embarrassed to utter the words.

He smiled and nodded, brushing some hair behind your ear before sitting up to discard the remaining clothing on his person. His skin was pretty, tanned and built. His cock reached his navel, dripping precum down the length which he used to easily slick his cock up with his fist.

The sight of your best friend jerking himself off over your naked, trembling body felt beyond taboo. But it only made you more eager to have him.

“Please, Eita...I want you,” you breathed.

He flashed you a smile and sat up on his knees, sliding the dripping tip between your folds. Brushing past your clit, you whined at the sensitivity.

“It might hurt a bit, pretty baby,” he whispered, positioning himself at your entrance.

You had already guessed it. He was big just by looking at him. But nothing compared to when he began to sink into you -- that’s when his size really became apparent.

“Ah, Eita!” you whined, digging your nails into his shoulders.

He hissed but didn’t stop you, eyes falling to where his cock was steadily stretching you open. When he got halfway in, he pulled back until the head remained within your clasping walls. With an experienced roll of his hips, he pushed his cock back in, this time easily bottoming out.

“Fuck!” you squealed, back arching.

He could feel you gushing, dripping down his balls. There wasn’t a single sign of pain in your features so he quickly began to move, the both of you riled up and eager to have each other completely.

Everything felt so right, so sweet. Having him in your arms made you feel so happy.

“You’re mine now, baby,” he groaned, burying his face in your neck, “All mine. N-No more, fuck, of this friend shit...I love you.”

“Eita,” you whined, tears pricking your eyes as you hugged him tightly against you, “I love you too. P-Please make me cum.”

“Fuck, I’ll get you there, baby,” he promised, reaching between your bodies to find your clit. Your walls immediately clamped tight around him as he played with your little bud, “C’mon. Cum for me. I wanna feel you cream, pretty baby. Can you do that for me? Show me how good this cock makes you cum.”

His filthy words, whispered in his sweet, deep voice were enough to throw you over the edge. As you squeezed around him, trembling and gushing through the amazing orgasm, he spilled within you. A soft whimper of your name fell from his lips as his balls throbbed, cock spitting out load after load until you were so filled, it dripped from your cunt.

Finally, the both of you stilled. He leaned back to look in your eyes, tucking some damp hair behind your ear before pecking your lips.

“I meant it, you really are mine now,” he said.

You nodded, “You’re all mine too.”

“Well,” he gave you a teasing grin, “You have to share me with my millions of adoring fans.”

“Don’t be so full of yourself,” you giggled, biting your lip as he pulled out, “You have thousands at most.”

“Oh, way to bruise a guy’s ego,” he laughed.

You were grateful to have him, everything with him was so easy. Everything between you was fine, perfect even. And you didn’t have to worry about ever losing him to another girl again.

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #eita x reader #semi eita x reader #eita semi x reader #haikyuu smut #hq smut #eita smut #afton.writes

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kpopisthereasonihavenolife · 4 years ago

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k.taehyung/reader

genre: arist!taehyung, painting!reader, parallel/horror universe

warning(s): violence, mannequins+paintings coming to life (bc ppl are scared of that), blood- but like red paint instead, horror/dread/action elements (i tried okay), bittersweet

words: 20.3k

One-shot | Two-shot | Series | Drabble | [Rated: Pg:15]

Loosely based on Ib, an RPG Horror/Adventure game + Leia (Vocaloid)

synopsis: Taehyung, a freelance, abstract artist is in the middle of one of the worst art blocks known to mankind. In an act of possible inspiration, he drags his best friend, Namjoon, to a new art gallery just opened. Only, he didn’t know that his visit would result in him getting separated from his friend and thrust into a new gallery. One he wasn’t familiar with in the slightest. Along with this mysterious new gallery, a collection of strange creatures lurking around every corner came with the unsettling territory.

a/n: i literally started this in March of 2019.... I have no excuse for the wait other than my bad. Regardless, Colorblind is FINALLY done and out! It’s obvs waayyy longer than I intended it to be back in 2019 when I could only pump out like 9k at max- it’s over double that now LOL. But that hopefully aint gonna stop y’all (pls, lmk what you thought/thnk, i’m so anxious about this one alsdjf)

“Here you are, gentlemen. Enjoy your visit to the gallery,” the receptionist at the counter smiled as she would to anyone. Handing over two pamphlets to the two men who stood in front of her. One was dressed in white track pants, two stripes running down the legs. A white, collared, button-up shirt with a tie exceptionally loose around his neck with a blue, track jacket with red and white stripes down the sleeve, matching his track pants.

The other man wore loose black pants around his hips. A black and white vertical striped, sleeveless jersey with three buttons on the collar with a red cap placed backward on his faded orange-haired head.

These two men were two Kim’s. Taehyung and Namjoon. Taehyung works as a self-employed, freelance artist; throwing and brushing paint over a canvas in random ways and creating objects and places for his mind to be free in abstract ways. Namjoon is a humbled journalist for a local news blog for his exceptional wording and phrasing on all sorts of topics.

Taehyung had come to the new gallery opening not too far from his home in search of inspiration. He had been in a bit of a slump lately, and with nothing to do and nothing worthwhile happening, he was desperate. Namjoon tagged along because he was tasked with the job of writing a review of the new establishment and creating a small article to include in the next online publication.

“Welcome to the grand opening of The Gallery of Leia!”

Taehyung mumbled to himself as he read the title of the pamphlet given to him. “Why Gallery of Leia?” He questioned the name as the receptionist answered promptly.

“Leia is the one surviving piece of an artist from way back when that survived a brutal fire. In honor of its survival, the gallery was named as such.” She said with a smile as Taehyung nodded and nudged Namjoon’s arm, who stood next to him.

“Let’s go,” he said as he walked inside, not trying to stick around for more conversation and holding up the line of people also trying to gain entry inside. Namjoon following him as he quickly scanned a the front of the pamphlet.

The gallery was two stories in a decent squared size building. It was quite the exercise trip in Taehyung’s opinion. Sculptures were placed against walls or out in the open for rotational viewing pleasure. Paintings and sketches were hanging, littering the walls for guests to see clearly. All the different pieces from all sort of artists featured here was amazing, such a wide variety as Taehyung’s eyes scanned the names. Some familiar, some not.

“Wow, this place is pretty busy,” Namjoon said as he looked around. Namjoon had pulled out a tablet from his side bag, turning on the large touch screen as he took the pen attached to the side of it and opened up a program for taking notes as he started scribbling. Taehyung peeked over his shoulder.

“You haven’t even seen any art yet. Why are you already jotting stuff down?”

“It’s always good to start an article with how packed or how empty a place is. The more people there, the more popular or interesting to the masses it is, which normally leads to more pros than cons. It’s like a first look into how interesting it may or may not be.” He rambled off like he’s answered the question a million times. Taehyung nodded with pouted lips.

“You’re such a workaholic.” Namjoon rolled his eyes at the remark, placing the pen between his fingers as he held his tablet and lowered it to his side.

“Let’s go look around.” The gallery itself, aside from the art pieces inside it, was stark white. White ceilings to match the white walls and tiled flooring in yet more, polished white. The lights weren’t as strong as one would think for a gallery, but if they were any brighter the receptionist would need to hand out complimentary sunglasses along with pamphlets because of all the lights bouncing off and around from the white interior.

Namjoon was busy looking at a large-scale sculpture of a red rose as Taehyung wandered around not too far from him. He turned down a hall that was surprisingly void of any warm bodies. He was surprised to find an area that hadn’t been cluttered with people yet. Though, he assumed it wasn’t all that odd considering the early morning hour.

Along the left wall was a large, long canvas, easily engulfing a vast majority of the wall itself. It also happened to be the only piece in this dead-end corridor.

Taehyung stood in front of the painting as he looked over it. Trying to see each and every detail. He was in awe of the detail and how much time it must have taken to even complete such a large painting. The dedication and time served to it was admirable.

The painting gave off an eerie vibe. A dark background with what seemed to be the space of a studio, a spacey and wide studio with canvas’s on walls, frames hanging, paints and easels littering the space leaking into a greater mass of a space with even more dark, distorted art. As he continued to look at it, he stopped to blink, reset his eyes and rub at them so he didn’t go crosseyed and get dizzy.

As Taehyung gazed at the whole of the masterpiece, Namjoon strode up to him. He whistled lowly in an impressed awe.

“Damn. That's one dedicated, dead painter.” He walked to the plaque underneath the frame, kneeling so he could read the title of the particular piece aloud. “Parallel Reality. Painted in 1996 by-” he couldn’t finish because the hall suddenly darkened. Namjoon and Taehyung both looked at the ceiling and the flickering lights before they blacked out completely. Leaving the room dark and quiet.

“A blackout?” Taehyung questioned. Namjoon stood up, walking back over to his friend.

“We should go back to the front desk.” Taehyung nodded as the two of them began the journey back, stepping carefully and squinting to make sure they wouldn’t run into any sculptures or walls. All the while, never once running into another person. In fact, the entire gallery was completely silent besides their footsteps.

“Where is everyone?” Taehyung asked, his eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness.

“I’m sure they’ve all gathered outside. No point in staying in a dark gallery.” The two made it to the front glass doors. “It’s… dark outside?” Taehyung looked out through the glass doors. “It was just noon?” Namjoon shook his head, pulling on the door, but the door refused to open. “It’s locked!” He grunted, yanking again, pushing and pulling on the door. Nothing. Namjoon sighed as he turned to Taehyung. “Go look around, maybe someone is still here. In the meantime, I’m going to try and get this door open.”

Taehyung nodded before he turned and walked back into the gallery. The halls still dark, every window showing nothing but a dark, deep navy outside. He walked to a window to look outside, maybe get a glimpse of what was going on. But, nothing.

He turned and walked away, but jumped when he heard someone banging on the glass of the window he had just left. Running back, he could just barely make out the imprint of a wide handprint on the outside of the glass. It made a chill run up Taehyung’s back.

For a moment, he assumed it was Namjoon who had gotten out and was getting his attention to run to the front and get out. So, he did, dashing to the entrance and when he didn’t see Namjon around any longer, he tried the door. Still locked.

He hissed as he whipped back around and went back to the window before he shook his head. As he walked around the gallery further, his eyes began adjusting to the darkness and eventually he was even able to make out some of the art pieces again.

A painting of a black cat. One of a man hanging upside down by his ankles. A basket of fruit that he swore use to have an apple included in the basket. The back of a woman dressed in nothing but red.

He felt like he was walking in circles. More than ready to head back to just sit at the front until someone came- since someone had to at some point, he heard another set of footsteps. At first he thought it may be Namjoon coming back to find him; however, the footsteps were too light to be his friends- he always was a bit of a heavy stomper. Taehyung turned and headed towards the steps as they seemed to move further from him instead of towards him.

“Hey!” He called into the echoey halls of the dark gallery. The steps halting momentarily before they started running. So, Taehyung sprinted after them. “Where are you going?!” He yelled as he ran into an open, large venue. He looked around as he ran, seeing no one around. “Where are you?!” He shouted before he stepped in a puddle. No, not a puddle. A puddle would only be an inch or two deep. It surely wouldn’t be enough to engulf him entirely.

Now, Taehyung was sinking. Drowning slowly into the Abyss of the Deep before the lights flicked back on and the murmurs of people resumed.

-x-x-x-

When Taehyung woke up, his head was throbbing, his mind was fuzzy and his conscience more than a little confused. Laying on his chest on the floor like a jersey-dressed starfish, he groaned as he pushed himself up to support his torso on his elbows. His hair was messier than before as his bangs threatened to poke his eyes. Looking back and forth, he was in a hallway. The corridor was dark, a hint of purple and indigo surrounding the entire room. Walls, carpet, ceiling everything was the same shade of purple.

Obviously, the polar opposite than the pure white of everything previously.

Rolling onto his back and pushing himself to stand, he wobbled as he held his head and tried to will away the headache that was beginning to slowly lessen.

Going backward before trying to even round the corner down the way, he found a single wooden door at the dead-end of the hall. Twisting the knob, he entered the small room. The room was square, red and on the back wall was a single large painting of a woman. Her eyes were closed and her face was blank. Her hair was somehow painted off the canvas, down past the frame and onto the wall like it was real hair falling out of the portrait.

In front of that portrait was a single small wooden table with a vase. In that vase was a single, blue rose. A rose with 10 large, vibrant petals and a vine that lacked thorns. Taehyung had never seen a blue rose before- well, not a real, authentic one anyways. Everyone’s seen the fake, painted blue, red, pink, yellow, purple and whatever other color roses in dollar stores before. Thinking it was manmade, he examined it further, putting his hands on the table to close inspect. He became far more interested in the flower the more he looked at it.

It drew him in. The color captivated him and the aura around it seemed almost important and he felt the slightest urge to pick it up. Maybe he should, maybe it would be fine. Reaching out slowly, he drew the rose from the vase and something akin to a jolt of electricity ignited his fingertips. It felt like he had somehow forged an instant connection with this flower as soon as the end of the vine left the crystal clear water of the vase.

Call him crazy, but he almost felt fearful of putting it back and leaving it behind.

The vase on the table cracked as Taehyung’s attention shifted to it from the rose. Crack after crack spread on the vase before it burst into pieces. Taehyung hunched backward to shield his face with his arms from the exploded glass. Shards of glass sat on the table and fell to the floor as the water pooled around the wooden surface and continued to spread as it began to drip off the table’s edge onto the carpet.

“I guess, I’ll take it along.” He muttered to himself as he turned his back. As he exited the room, he failed to notice the woman’s portrait shift. Her eyes opened wide- almost insane- as she smiled. PItch black paint writing appearing under her frame in smeared text.

WHEN THE ROSE WILTS, SO TOO WILL YOU WILT AWAY

Taehyung left the room and the hallway he returned to had changed from what he last remembered. There were random letters on the ceiling and floor, spelling something that Taehyung couldn’t make out in the dark hall. At his feet, he felt himself kick at something when he moved to step forward. Picking it up, he held a small blue key in his palm.

Going further down the hall, he came to a forked path. He could continue going down the hall or take the staircase he that presented itself to him. The stairs lead up higher than he could see with two paintings on either side of the entrance. Two landscapes of a mountain range; one normal and the other an identical copy, only negative scaled. Coming to a decision, he took the hall just to cover the ground floor. Coming to just another dead end, he returned and took to the stairs up.

At the top of the stairs was a door. Trying it, it was locked.

“Naturally,” he huffed. Trying the key he had kicked with his shoe and picked up not too long ago, it fit perfectly and unlocked the door as he stepped through it. The door slammed shut and locked on it’s own behind him. The key becoming useless since their was no keyhole on this side of the door. He dropped it, leaving it behind.

He was in a library now. It was a small room, maybe not even considered a library. Just a room with bookshelves and books. Like a compact study without a desk.

He didn’t recognize a lot of the books- which was surprising considering he did have a liking for reading. He stopped scanning his fingers over the spines of books when among all the thick, sophisticated books was a tiny, thin spine of a bright red children's book.

Pulling it out from it’s snug place on the shelf, he held it in his hands. It was a short, wide book with a picture colored very messily in what he could only assume was crayon on the cover of it. Sitting on the ground, his back against the bookcase, he opened it’s thick, card-stock, wobbly pages.

The book was about a painter. He had been painting his whole life, so long in fact that he started to blend his world with reality. He would give his paintings ‘life’ and he’d treat them like they were truly alive. In his mind, they were his friends.

A painting of a lion toy no bigger than the size of a book, stills of sentient objects like a fan, and even paint brushes contained souls with a conscience and mind to this painter. Even a can of pressurized air that would ‘bully’ or tease the others when they least expected it was ‘alive’, leaving the painter to rip that painting of air up for it’s rotten behavior.

It ends with the painter creating a portrait of someone, something he wasn’t familiar with painting. People weren’t his strong suit and as such, he was left in isolation for most of his life. His devotion to painting left him alone in reality because he ‘saw’ nothing else. Thus, he created his own friend in a painting of a woman that didn't exist. When she ‘came alive’ he even grew to fall in love with her. The last few pages of the story were torn out, so Taehyung would never know the ending.

“Who would fall in love with something they knew was fake? Something painted would never come alive,” he muttered. Considering the painter in the story to be an utter fool.

Taehyung suddenly jumped, children’s book sliding off his legs and snapping shut as the door to his left unlocked with a loud clack. He slowly got up, picking the book back up taking it with him as he put it back on the shelf. The door that unlocked started to whine. The handle was rusty sounding as something from the outside started turning it.

In a very logical fit of panic, Taehyung rushed and grabbed the thickest book he could find and held it at the ready. Absolutely ready to whack whatever weirdo came into this room, knock them out (with luck), restrain them and then question where the hell he was. That, or a hit and run would work too. He’d figure out which suggestion when the time came in a few moments.

The turning of the knob halted. Stopped for so long that Taehyung thought whatever it was had gone away. Lowering his book, he squinted his eyes at the door. It was quiet, all he could hear was his breathing with the occasional nervous gulp of his.

There was only but another beat of silence before chaos erupted.

The door busted open, nearly ripping off it’s handles. Taehyung, with a short, shocked scream, stumbled back as two things threw themselves into the room. One was a woman, or rather half a woman. Long brown hair cascaded down her head and her torso was decked in a red turtleneck. Her face had a twisted demeanor etched into what would probably be a beautiful face otherwise. From her waist down was nothing but a picture frame. Her lower half didn’t exist and was replaced with a black void background and frame with gold edges. It was like some horror effect that dragged around behind her everywhere she crawled.

The second was an actual woman. Legs, arms, chest and all. Dressed in ruined overalls, a long sleeved white shirt with yellow stripes up the arms. Tacky, torn brown boots on her feet as she stomped and kicked away at the woman in the frame. She was wielding... a stick? Or what looked like what may be part of what was once another picture frame. End jagged and just asking for someone to get a nasty splinter.

The woman in the frame hissed at her like a dog as her clawed hands moved to drag her across the floor towards the actual woman’s legs. The framed lady moved faster than Taehyung imagined was possible. Dragging her half body across the floor and slithering with an absurd amount of grace like a snake.

The lady in the frame latched onto the woman’s leg causing her to in turn repeatedly kick at the frame’s head with her opposite foot. The frame screamed as she was kicked against a bookshelf. Books fell, toppling onto the frame as she screeched. However, her insistent screeching silenced when the real woman took the jagged end of the broken frame she wielded and thrust it into the frames exposed and vulnerable head.

Red ‘paint’ erupted from the frame like a fountain before it became completely limp. The woman shook the frame piece around, whipping it like a sword after a battle to remove the blood of the slain. Then, the woman looked over her shoulder at Taehyung. He froze in place, his shoulders jumping at him finally being noticed.

Your eyes widened as they locked onto Taehyung’s. Shocked to see him there. Your eyes were an unusually bright colored abyss with such a dull contrasting look in them. He wasn’t sure if he could even see his reflection if he were standing right in front of you.

You gasped lightly as if being hit with some sort of realization before turning to face him fully. Even if you were a good 10 feet from him he flinched. More than a little bit intimidated with you still holding your broken frame piece and witnessing you pretty much kill what he would label a Feminine Frame Monster.

“You’re the one everyone is looking for…” You muttered to herself. There was a commotion beyond the door that was hanging pathetically onto its frame. From down the hall, scraping and screeching were heard in a humming echo. You looked over your shoulder before you moved towards Taehyung, looking at him and grabbing his bicep with little hesitation. You yanked his arm to signal that you were clearly going to be ordering him around.

Taehyung felt like a doll being pulled around by a child. You were shorter than he expected for someone who just took out a monster as he peered over your head, like a child standing as high as possible to peek out a window. Your grasp on him loosened as you moved to grab his wrist instead. You pulled him slightly again, snapping him out of whatever daze he was in as he finally looked at you again.

“We need to go. More of them are coming, and unless you want to end up painting fodder, you’ll follow me.” He looked down at you as you finally noticed the rose peeking out of his jacket pocket. You gasped, pointing at it with your other hand that whipped around the red stained frame piece. “Hide that!” You seethed as Taehyung’s hand immediately shoved itself into his pocket to cover the rose before she began to run out of the room, Taehyung in tow; against his will, might he add.

The halls he was being dragged through were inconsistent and almost gave him a headache. First running through purple halls, then red filled with empty black picture frames. Zooming through green halls that had arms shooting out of them, claws skimming over Taehyung’s jacket and reaching for his rose. He pulled it from his pocket and held it to his chest to keep it safe from anyone- thing- trying to grab it. Finally, your running came to a stop as you swung open a door before shoving him by his shoulder. You slammed the door securely shut before locked it.

When the door was shut, Taehyung took a moment or two to look around as he tried to regain his breath.

He was in a blue room now. Two bookshelves with almost nothing on them and a small table next to a violet couch. The table held a cerulean vase on it with water filled inside almost to the point it overflowed. On the back wall was only one giant frame with a pure white puzzle glued one the inside of it.

“A milk puzzle?” He questioned more to himself than anything else. You sighed when it was quiet and then collapsed onto the blue carpeted floor. Catching Taehyung’s attention, he panicked as he ran to your side, kneeling beside you and debating on whether or not he should put his hand on your shoulder. You panted and pushed your forehead against the door. Hair hiding your face as it hung, falling off your heaving shoulders. “Are you.. Alright?” Taehyung asked slowly- cautiously.

You only nodded as you finally caught your breath. Sitting up straighter, taking one last breath to even your breathing before you finally looked up at Taehyung. He knelt higher than your head level as he confirmed that he indeed couldn’t find his reflection in your eyes he stared into.

“You’re the intruder that everyone is looking for in the Gallery, aren’t you?” She questioned. He blinked in confusion.

“Intruder?”

“You don’t belong here and you need to get out of here as soon as you can. This isn’t a place for someone like you.” Taehyung wasn’t understanding anything. You held your hand out towards him, almost asking for something. “Your rose. You still have it right?” He nodded as he showed the rose he still held cradled to his chest. He was thankful the vine was thornless, or else his palm would have been riddled with small, painful punctures.

For some reason, he felt like his rose would be safe with you, so he easily handed it over. You took it and looked over it’s petals. Admiring the shade of blue, you shifted her gaze to look from beautiful azure petals and into Taehyung’s eyes. “What’s your name?” You asked.

“Taehyung,” he answered instinctively. You nodded at the sound of it, committing it to memory. “Yours?”

“I’m Y/n,” you curtly told him as you lifted the rose back into the conversation. “Do you know how important this rose is?” He shook his head. You sighed as you moved to face him fully, sat relaxed on the floor. Lifting your arm to bring you opposite hand to touch one of the petals your fingertips dusted around a single soft petal. You held it with delicacy before your grip changed and your nails gripped and plucked it off the stem.

Taehyung gasped, a pain shooting through his chest as his hand flew up to grip his shirt. His one-knee kneeling position changed as both knees hit the carpet.

It felt like his heart just skipped a beat and almost seemed to stall for a moment. Shaken up, he wasn’t sure why, but it felt almost harder to breathe? Air came more difficult to take and his energy felt zapped. The one petal you had pulled off fluttering to the ground at his knees.

You plucked another one, the second petal fluttering to the floor to join the first. More pain shot through him again as he found himself bracing himself forward, the hand that wasn’t clenching around the front of his shirt, falling in front of him to join his knees on the carpet. It felt like someone was wrapping a rope around his chest and squeezing the life out of him. Crushing his ribs and lungs suffocating him.

“What,” he gasped, “are you doing... to me?” He sputtered as he coughed. He heard you move before you were at his back, picking him up and bringing him weakly to his feet. You practically dragged him to the couch, his feet dragging on the carpet the whole way before he fell into the cushions.

As you stood over him, you pluck another two petals off and he let out small, silent coughs of protest. Whatever you were doing, he was ready for you to stop. He really thought he was dying.

“Watch,” you told him as the dark bags under his eyes materialized. You walked to the crystal water-filled vase. Taking his rose that had lost four petals already, you placed the stem over top of the vase and dropped it inside. The stem hit the water and immediately Taehyung’s eyes widened as he watched the petals regrow right before his eyes.

The rose seemed to glow with a calming, almost reassuring, blue hue for but a moment before the pain in his body stopped. The pangs of hurt disappeared from within his eyes as he let go of his chest and the pain faded. It was like the pain was just a hallucination. You slowly withdrew the rose from the vase and handed it back to him as you move to stand in front of him. He had moved from laying in pain on the couch to sitting himself up properly.

Taehyung gently took the rose from you. “When the rose wilts,” you start.

“So too will I…” Taehyung finishes, unsure on how he knew how to finish the phrase. It was like it was just engraved on his tongue as he said it. The dawning realization that this flower was tied to his life grew into his mind as he spun it between his thumb and forefinger. “But, I-I don’t understand.” He shook his head. You moved to sit beside him, ready to answer whatever questions he has. “What’s going on? Where the hell am I?”

“You’re in the gallery.”

“No,” he denied curtly, lifting his hand in denial. “I was in the gallery. Now, I’m here.”

“You were in the real gallery. Somehow, you got sucked into this one. The gallery you were in isn’t where you are now and frankly I don’t know how you got here. This is a fabricated reality created from a man’s paintbrush. A human shouldn’t be able to come here.” You got up and grabbed a small, face down picture frame from the top one of the small, dusty, bookshelves. Bringing it back with you to the couch, you handed it to him.

Taehyung recognized the man in the photo. “I know this artist. He died a long time ago.” Though his name escaped the young artist.

“Guena. That’s the pen name he used in his profession.” You looked around at the small room. “This room, and all the other rooms too. Every painting and creature here was created by him and his desire to create souls for his non-living creations,” you told him. “But, things are different now. Everything is distorted,” you scowled.

Just like the picture book he found. The creations were given life by the hands of the creator then the creator died, leaving all of his ‘lives’ behind. If that were so, then it would be no wonder why everything would begin to fall apart. It was akin to a circus without a Ring Master. Taehyung furrowed his brows before he placed the photo beside him on the cushions.

He looked up to you, into your dull eyes that somehow held the most breathtaking color.

“How long have you been here?” He asked.

“I’ve been here since the beginning and I will remain here until the end.”

“Do you have a rose, like I do?” He felt like he knew the answer, but nonetheless less you shook your head. He knew what he wanted to really ask, but he didn’t know how to ask it- what words should he use? To you, who he had just met in the most fictional turn of events that he still can’t wrap his head around. You were nothing like him and he knew that.

“I’m a painting, Taehyung.”

When you told him the truth he was already beginning to suspect, it wouldn’t be too far fetched to say he still internally panicked. Something that looks so human, yet wasn’t at all. You were nothing but brush strokes and shapes somehow given life. You probably crawled straight out of a frame too.

You saw the emotion flash through his eyes and you were almost jealous of how his eyes could change. Unlike yours that were stuck, his could tell you a whole story without the use of words. Anyone in this place could tell immediately he was human because of those eyes.

In respect to him and his unease, you made sure to keep your distance. You truly weren’t a threat. All you wanted was for him to get out, and to get out safely. You’ve been watching your world fall apart since Guena died. Every creature that was alive was losing their ‘mind’ and it was only a matter of time before it started to infect you too. It was a disease that humans didn’t need to get involved in.

“I’m going to be your escort out of here. With your lack of reaction when in the face of danger, you’d probably get yourself killed in an instant.” You moved back to the door where you sat on the floor, you're back against the wood as you looked at him across the room on the couch. “You rest for now and make sure to keep your rose safe with you. This room is safe, so you don’t need to worry about something happening.”

Then, you stopped talking. Taehyung almost felt guilty. You were a painting, and you couldn’t show all the emotions that the could. You weren’t actually real after all, so it was normal to assume you had a expressional limit. He watched as you sat against the door completely silent and still with closed eyes. He was unsure if you were really sleeping or if you even could.

He looked at the rose in his hands. This rose is so important and he didn’t know how to fathom what the hell was going on. It all happened too fast and he couldn’t begin to process it all.

He missed Namjoon as he knew that he was probably still wandering around the real gallery looking for him. He wondered if Namjoon managed to get out since he wasn’t at the front or if the lights kicked back on and he was alright. He lifted and looked at the photo of Guena beside him again.

It was odd. That was the man who somehow created this world and he was also the same painter who created Leia. The painting that gave the real gallery it’s name. Taehyung never got to see that painting in the gallery- not that he was able too see much to begin with, and he’s not so sure he wanted to at the moment.

Taehyung was a sympathetic and empathetic person- always had been and probably always will be. The line between the two blurred in his case. So, when he looked at you, he felt a sense of guilt as you kept away from him. You spoke curtly, yet kindly. You didn’t seem to have an ulterior motive and you seemed trustworthy enough; especially compared to that framed lady from before.

You brought him here after all. A secluded room and you didn’t attack him or take his rose. You plucked four petals off his rose, but then turned around and healed him. You even returned it, he knew it was all to prove the point of its importance. You weren’t going to hurt him and he believed that with his whole heavy-beating heart.

“Y/n? Are you sleeping?”

Your eyes remained closed, but you answered. “No. I can’t. I’m a painting, remember?”

“Okay. Then, I have a question,” he said as you slid your eyes open. Looking at him from your place by the door. “That thing you killed?” Did you kill it? Could paintings die? “What was it?”

“They’re called, The Ladies.”

“They? There’s more?” Taehyung’s voice slightly quivered at the idea of more hissing, hacking, floor-crawling, psycho half ladies being out there.

You nodded. “What you saw was only one of many Ladies. She was a Lady in Red. There are also Ladies in Green and Ladies in Blue. They’re more common than most. About as common as mannequins.”

“Excuse me? Mannequins?” You looked at him as a shiver ran up his body. Goosebumps littered his covered skin. “I fucking hate mannquins,” he seethed unconsciously to himself. The look he put on his face was that of disgust and pure anguish and yet somehow twisted into an almost comical look. You almost smirked at his foul language and facial cues.

Your smirk twisted and soon you burst out into laughter at his face that just seemed so comical to you. A face someone like you couldn’t pull off because you were fake. He looked at you as you laughed at him. The tension that was in the air seemed to be shattered like a nail being driven into a pane of glass. Soon, Taehyung was laughing at you laughing at him. Your fit ended as you smiled and shook your head, calming down.

Taehyung was more than happy to try and get a small nap in now that he knew that you weren’t completely devoid of emotion. Someone, fake or not, who can laugh and smile like that surely wasn’t a bad person.

-x-x-x-

Taehyung was startled from his small rest when a tremor shook the room. Panicking as he sat straight, rim-rod up, you were already on your feet and looking at the door. You half expected something to charge inside, even when this place was supposed to be somewhere to rest up and be away from any sort of harm. Taehyung flung his legs off the sofa and stood up so quickly he had a wave of dizziness hit him as he held his head and staggered. Shaking it off, he was at your side, standing just a step behind you.

“What the hell is that?” He lightly asked, like if he was too loud something would hear him. You just flexed your arm, the hand around the hardened piece of art frame you kept continuing to wield tightening. “It feels like the ground is moving,” he looked down at his feet. Like the carpet beneath him was beating in microbursts.

“It’s a distortion wave. This happens the weaker this world gets and that means it’s only going to get that much worse outside.” You looked at him. “I hope you have some strength in those arms of yours, because you might have to use it.” Taehyung hated the thought of violence, even if it was against figuratively inanimate objects that weren’t supposed to exist . They weren’t alive, but they were still able to die. His toes curled at the thought of it. You saw the unease in his eyes before looked back at the door, rotating your wrist and twisting around your weapon. “Just stick close to me and run like your life depends on it.”

The lack of an additional ‘because it will’ was an approved choice on Taehyung’s ears.

You opened the door and outside it was a madhouse. Even more paintings coming alive. Some stuck in their frames as they clawed at the air and hissed. Distorted in sharp and blurred strokes as they swiped. Ghastly hands and objects plunged from walls and hung from the ceiling. Mannequins moved far faster than previously and he could hear the hissing and scraping of frames on the floor from the Ladies as they drug themselves across the floor like lethal roaches.

You bolted out of the safe room, Taehyung hot on your heels as he stayed immediately behind you. You dashed down halls, staying in the center away from the walls and anything reaching for you. You kept Taehyung at your side, pulling him to and fro away from anything that could harm him if he got too close. You rounded corners in rushed steps or slides as Taehyung occasionally grabbed the back of your overalls to keep you from skidding into the walls from your unstoppable momentum. You swung and hacked at anything that came close and kept them at bay the best you could with your frame.

Taehyung pointed ahead of you, a set of doors ahead.

“Go into one of those!” He wasn’t sure where he got off telling you where to go. Especially since he was literally the worse qualified person to do so. You didn’t seem to argue back though, so he continued. “The, uh, the yellow one!” He yelled over the chaos. You just looked back at him slightly over your shoulder, brows creased.

“Which one is the yellow one?!” You shouted as he slightly stumbled before he grabbed your wrist and took off, running faster and ahead of you before he stopped at a door of brilliant yellow, pulled it open and pushed you inside, slamming it closed. The room was empty save for a single mirror on the back wall. Thankfully, yellow seemed to be a pretty safe choice.

Taehyung could always trust yellow.

“Y/n,” he called as he still held your wrist in his hand and you were hunched over. You weren’t alive, but you seemed unwell. “What’s wrong?” He looked at the skin under his hand that showed with the fabric of your long sleeve pushed up your wrist. He gasped silently when he saw it’s complexion shift into a distortion of ugly, muddle colors before vanishing as quickly as it came. “What was that?” He shook his head. “No, hold on. Different question. Can you not see color?”

“No, I can’t.” You stood back up, yanking your wrist out of his grip. You looked at your skin as you hissed. The distortion was starting to hit you and the stages would eventually progress into a problem- but he didn’t need to know that. “I was painted as portrait by a lonely, selfish painters. He didn’t think to give me the ability to see color so, I can’t see colors or tell them apart.” You shook your wrist out. “Is that a problem?”

Taehyung jolted. You were clearly touchy on the topic. He cleared his throat as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Uh, well not really . I guess if you have me, I can point out colors for the both of us. Why didn’t you tell me you were colorblind though? It would’ve been pretty useful to know before we started running for our lives through some fucked-up haunted house reality check.”

“I didn’t think it was relevant.” You sighed. You had made it this far without relying on the colors you couldn’t tell apart. Why would now be any different? You couldn’t even see the color your body or clothes were- if they had color to them at all. For all you knew, you were all black and white and grey. You walked to the back wall and stood in front of the mirror there, frowning as Taehyung came up behind you. He was as black and white as you were in your eyes.

“So, you can’t see any color?” He touched his shirt, opened his jacket and pulled his headband. He pulled your hair up dramatically and motioned to yourself as a whole in the mirrors reflection. “Nothing at all?”

“Nothing at all,” you confirmed. “I can conceive the idea of colors, but I’ve never had a proper need to see or tell them apart. I know when something is a threat and I know when something is not. That’s all that really matters here.” Your indifference was something Taehyung- a painter- couldn’t comprehend. What kind of painting can’t see their own colors? Wouldn’t that be painful or frustrating at the very least?

“Your shirt is yellow and white,” Taehyung spoke. You looked at his reflection with raised brows. “Your overalls are faded and nearly ruined, but they’re dark blue and your boots are brown. Your hair is really pretty and your eyes are too.” He described your outfit to you like you were a child, but he meant well.

Just saying the color of your clothes didn’t help you grasp the concept of what it really looked like aside from the range of grey and white and black you saw through your eyes. “Maybe that doesn’t matter, but I thought you’d like to at least now,” he muttered.

“Thanks,” you told him quickly as you pulled at your sleeves, fixing and adjusting them to cover your arms properly again. So, that light shade of grey- nearly white- was yellow? “I've never actually learned what color is what to my eyes,” you told him. “It’s nice knowing at least one color,” you whispered more to yourself than anything.

So, it did bother you. Taehyung felt something swell like pride in his chest as he was acting the role of teacher.

If it were any other situation and if you were a person instead of a painting, he’d be glad to teach you all the colors he could. He felt it was his duty as an artist- freelance or not- to educate those about all the corners of art. However, you weren’t real and he wasn’t at home in his studio, but in a haunted gallery of danger.

Taehyung stepped away from you as he made his way back to the front of the room and the yellow door. He put his ear to the door, not hearing much of anything outside anymore. He hoped that you and he were able to give them the slip- as obvious as a tactic as that was. When he tried the doorknob, however, it didn not twist. Jammed or locked, he knocked his forehead against the yellow wood in frustration.

“Of course,” he groaned before he turned to see you still standing in front of the mirror in the back of the room. “Y/n, the door is locked. Unless we have another way out, we’re stuck in here.” He announced, making his way back to you as you seemed to finally break out of your own reflection and look around.

“There’s got to be something we can trigger to open the door or another way out. Just look around,” you told him. You started wandering the room, but Taehyung only stood still, crippling his chin in thought and tapping his toes. The room was completely empty, what could he possibly miss if nothing was in the room except a single, wall mounted mirror?

He thought of all the cheesy cliches like a floor tile trigger or a secret compartment in one of the four walls of ht boxed room. However, he wasn’t sure if he had the patience to test out those ideas.

Taehyung stood in front of the mirror, looking at his own reflection that scowled back towards him in thought. He scurried away from the mirror in a haste as he yelped when the glass cracked. Splitting down the center in crooked, ugly cracks and small splinters of glass falling from the mirror. Your ear picked up on the continuous cracking of the mirror’s glass, unlike Taehyung and before he knew what was happening, you were yanking on his shirt and jacket collar. He choked slightly at you pulling him away from it completely as it shattered.

Bursting from the inside out, glass shot forward before raining down to the hard tile of the room. What was left behind wasn’t the wall behind the mirror, but a matte black door with a sign hanging on the center of it.

‘PASSAGE’

“Is that our way out?” He asked skeptically as he stood back up and brushed off his clothes of any stray shards that clung to him. Looking back, the yellow door you both had rushed through had disappeared. Nothing, but this black door and the walls remained. He huffed. “Guess that answers that, huh. Wha- hey!” He called as you had already started opening the black door to enter it. “What if it’s dangerous in there?!”

“There’s no other option,” you told him, pushing the door open before stepping into the same, thick blackness the door represented. “Stay here if you’re so scared,” you sarcastically teased as you stepped inside. Unsurprisingly, the artist was hot on your tail inside.

The two of you walked through the black hall that stretched from the door you both entered, Taehyung behind you as he grew in more in nerves. There were no lights and the light front he doorway was long gone behind his back. He couldn’t see his hand in front of his face and he felt like he was losing his mind.

He could only hear your footsteps, his footsteps and the sound of your sharpened frame weapon dragging across the ground that you had taken from your belt loop as soon as the darkness became thick enough to warrant a twinge worry.

The air in the ever stretching corridor became so thick it was hard to catch his breath as he moved to grab your wrist for guidance. Then, giggling began echoing from every direction. Bouncing off what might be a nearby walls and drilling directly into his head. Giggling that mimicked creepy doll sound effects in horror movies, only so much worse. You, unsurprisingly, weren’t phased by the verbal taunts- Taehyung, however, was.

You could feel the trembles in his fingers around the wrist of yours he held so tightly. You twisted your wrist, freeing it from his grasp for a moment and you could physically feel his panic the moment his fingertips left your skin. He was quick to calm down when you shot your arm back and grabbed around his hand instead.

Taehyung only grew more and more nervous as the darkness didn’t seem to end. There was nothing in front of him or behind him to act as a beacon of any sort of hope that it would eventually come to a brightly lit finish. Not even your presence he knew was there was any comfort to him. It felt like the darkness was ebbing away at his sanity and choking him.

In the midst of his silent anxiety, he thought he felt something whisper along the back of his neck. He let out a small, strangled noise of startled protest as he unconsciously ripped his hand away and out of yours. His panic set in tenfold now that he had no idea where you were anymore.

He reached out in front of him in a frenzied panic as he waved his arms around in front of himself like a crazy person. He was sure if he was in light or if someone could see him, they’d think him completely bat-shit insane. No matter where he reached or how hard he searched, he couldn’t find you. He couldn’t even hear you anymore.

Your footsteps were gone along with the frame dragging and he couldn’t hear anything aside from his own hiccuped gasps of air. A horrible humming filled his ears and he quickly brought his palms up to the sides of his head, covering his ears to try and block out the noise. It only seemed to intensify though, as if he had cupped around the humming and shoved it directly against his eardrums.

His knees wobbled and his footing staggered before his knees finally hit the ground. The hard ground that was below his feet changed the moment his knees collided with it.

Water was running along the hard ground that now felt like tile. If he ran his fingers along the floor, he would be able to trace the groves of cement and glue holding the pieces of breakable flooring together. He wasn’t able to properly process it in the overwhelming state of mind he was currently becoming more and more trapped in.

The water that seeped into his pants drew higher and higher before engulfing his knees, thighs and eventually coming to reach his waist. His hands stayed covered over his ears as he shuttered and shook his head back and forth- trying to chalk it all up as another nightmare. He’d wake up on another couch any moment in a room that you had taken him too. This was just his mind playing trick on him- wasn’t it?

The humming grew louder and louder before it went completely silent. The shift in noise to nothing was too sudden; uncomfortably sudden. He should be relieved that the horrible, horrible sound that drilled into his head had stopped, but he was only accompanied by the newfound silence with a chill running up his spine and staying in the base of his neck .

Taehyung couldn’t move. He shook and trembled, waist deep in cold water.

Was this what insanity felt like? Was he really losing his mind?

Then he remembered. He was finally able to move again when he remembered his rose. The flower that was somehow keeping him up and kicking. He moved his hands from his ears and began to frantically pat around his body. His chest, his hips and thighs. In and out of pockets. He couldn’t find it. He thought he had already reached his maximum panic level, but he was oh so wrong.

He lost his rose and he felt like he was near his breaking point. He hated that it affected him so much in both a mental and physical sense. Taehyung had normally defined himself as a more or less tough person to break down in more cases.

He hardly had time to adjust to the life threatening new world he found himself in with art coming to life to kill him. Not to mention that his life was tied to a blue flower and he was dependent on a painting for safety.

Taehyung was literally walking through his own personal nightmare. Who wouldn’t start losing their marbles after all that?

His ducked down head shot up when he thought he heard something drop into the flooded flooring. He swore he heard the water ripple as it sounded like someone was walking, or dragging their feet through the water. The sound of moving water echoed and he couldn’t pinpoint from which direction whatever was around him was moving. Then the water pushed up his legs like something pushed the water towards him and he froze again.

He felt a breath blow against his forehead, his hair blowing in small, annoying strands that tickled his eyebrows and forehead. Whatever was wading in the water beforehand, was now right in front of him.

His mouth opened like he was going to scream, but nothing came out before the room erupted in bright lights. He flinched under the extreme difference, the humming coming back to drill into his skull as fluorescent lights lined the ceiling above him.

When he was able to pry his eyes open, they glued themselves open at the sight of the creature in front of him. It was… he couldn’t even begin to explain what it was.

It looked like it had the basic shape of a person, but the limbs were far too long and lanky and it was engulfed in a thick looking, black tar that oozed and dripped from it’s appendages. It’s head was also shaped like a humans, but turned completely sideways. The side of it’s head parallel with the floor as that same, thick blackness dripped from it’s chin that pointed directly to the left. The mouth was nothing but a white circle in the middle of its face with black dripping between it’s ‘lips’ like jail bars.

Whatever it was, it was horribly ugly and Taehyung thought his mind was distorting. The space around the creature seemed crackly- like tv static.

The artist couldn’t move, he couldn’t speak, couldn’t flee. He couldn’t even scream. But it could. It could move, it could groan and moan, it could scream. And it did.

The mouth opened further into an elongated oval and a set of eyes showed themselves in small, crescents with the ends pointing to the left towards their chin on their crooked head. The shrill shriek it let out made Taehyung’s bones rattle under his skin, like someone had just run a xylophone stick across his ribs.

It had brought it’s long, thin, dripping arms up as it seemed to ready lunge at the young, fear-stricken artist. It screeched once more before it began to lunge, but it was immediately stopped in it’s tracks before it could do any sort of physical harm.

The screech was cut short, as the head- in fact- the entire torso of the creature was pushed down by something. It fell face first into the water at Taehyung’s knees as a long, golden strip of a picture frame stuck out of the back of it’s head.

Red paint leaked out of the creatures head as it lay still and motionless in the water, dying the flooded area a shade of crystal pink. The smell wasn’t what he expected- what he expected to smell like iron, blood and death instead smelt of a flower shop, honey and lemonade. The monster with a frame in the back of it’s head smelt like summer.

Was it… dead?

Then he heard more footsteps, however with the lights on and eyes properly adjusted now, he could see exactly where they were coming from and who. It turns out that somehow he had made it into a room- a small cube area that had no windows and only one door that was now thrown open. Through that door, your body was slouched against the frame out of breath- once again ironic since you weren’t alive- and dripping blue drops of paint from your chin.

He was speechless- no longer from fear, but from shock.

You wadded through the pink water to stand in front of him. You turned to the creature you had just taken down by hurling your frame piece at it and quickly pulled the frame out. Red spurt from the wound like a pathetic, paint-filled fountain. Before long, it was simply oozing and rolling off the skull of the creature into the water before it started to completely fade away like ash.

You looked back to Taehyung who had disappeared previously from your grasp and you knelt in front of him. Waving your hand in front of his face, he didn’t respond. You looked down and around him to see his hand stuck on the inside of his jacket- like he had stopped looking for something mid-search.

“Tae-”

“Rose,” he whispered urgently, interrupting you. You gently dug into the small pouch you had on your side- where you got that, he wasn’t sure- and before a moment longer passed, blue petals were shown in his line of sight. That seemed to finally start to snap him out of it. “That’s my,” he whispered, the rest of his words dying on his tongue.

“You dropped it earlier when you let go of my hand,” you told him. You gently took his hand from the inside of his jacket and placed the flower delicately inside his palm. “You need to take better care of that if you want to get out of here.”

One, small tear fell from his eye before he was throwing his arms around your shoulders and pulling you towards him. Your face fell into his shoulder as you felt him shake around you. You raised your arms tentatively and started to pat at his back awkwardly.

“Don’t worry,” you shushed, as you stared at the back wall. You could hear the ashy pieces of the creature disengerate behind your back as his tremors quelled to shivers and soon he was still and his breath wasn’t ragged anymore. He had calmed himself down as he squeezed you against his chest.

“Thank you,” he breathed.

-x-x-x-

Once Taehyung was able to move again without shaking or fearing for his safety and he had properly calmed down, you led him out of the room he had been trapped in. Going down another long hall with nothing but lights lining the walls, he briefly stopped at a plaque on the wall next to another door. This door wasn’t colorful or odd- it looked so ordinary it stood out among the bright purple hall he stood in.

“Gallery ahead,” he muttered, reading aloud as the sighed at the plaque that had an arrow pointing ahead beyond the door.

Opening the door, there was no noise and all was quiet. Taehyung followed you as he looked around.

True to the plaque, it really was just another portion of the gallery. Proper paintings on the walls with names below it, statues sectioned off with rope and dividers, mantles with busts- it too looked like an authentic, ordinary gallery. The door you both passed through shut with a soft click as he looked behind at it still jumpy from earlier on. He was thankful it didn’t slam at least.

The floors were tile and shining like they had just been cleaned and waxed. The walls were covered in a boring, but oddly suiting wallpaper fit for an aged art gallery while chandeliers hung along the ceiling lighting the place in a soft, glowing light.

“This is a nice break from the rest of the place,” Taehyung told you, catching up to your back as you were making your way through the place. He came to walk beside you, looking at your eyes that couldn’t see any color.

“It is a section of the world that hasn’t been touched too badly by the distortion. If anything is alive here, it shouldn’t be a threat,” you assured him. The fact you had put away your makeshift weapon put him further at ease. He looked back and forth at the walls lined with art.

This was what he was hoping to experience coming into the real gallery today.

Just browsing around to try and spark something in him to create something new. To inspire him- not threatening his very life after sucking him into an actual nightmare world. He briefly jumped when a painting of a black cat blinked before it stretched and jumped right out of it’s canvas. He meowed up at him as he rubbed against his leg before scampering off somewhere else. His padding paw steps disappearing down the hall.

Taehyung almost smiled at that.

The two of you walked in silence, the only sound in the gallery was the sound of both of your footsteps and the occasional sound of harmless art brought to life. Taehyung stared at your back as you walked ahead of him and he began to wonder. He wondered about a lot.

He wondered what would happen to you when he managed to get out of this place. What would happen if he tried to maybe take you with him? Could you survive outside this place since you weren’t really born? Would this gallery even exist when he leaves it or would it cease to be?

He stopped in his tracks he he caught himself. Why was he even thinking about taking you with him?

The young artist was ripped from his thoughts when he saw your body jerk forward before you were staggering on your feet then falling to your knees on the tiled floors of the peaceful part of the gallery.

“Shit,” he cursed under his breath as he jogged up behind you. He placed his hand on the middle of your back as he knelt beside you and dipped his head down to try and catch a glimpse of your face. “Y/n, hey!” He called as your body shook and heaved like you were a living breathing person in the midst of a breathing fit. You were a painting with a soul, but not really alive so did you breathe? He found himself asking that to himself way too often.

He shook his head- that wasn’t the thought he needed to overthink right now. “What’s wrong? Talk to me,” he tried coaxing you.

You just shook your hand towards him; whether to shut him up or shoo him away he wasn’t sure, but he didn’t move from your side regardless. When your arm raised, he saw beneath your sleeve a sort of discoloration. It was just like what he saw earlier in the mirror room.

He took your wrist in his hand as he pushed your sleeve up when you suddenly fell into him. He jolted as he rolled you to lay on your side- your head lolling off in a way that looked uncomfortable with your shoulder pushing into the ground. He lifted your head, putting it on his leg to try and help you at least a bit.

You twitched as he examined your skin. It looked like your arm was covered in a horrific bruise. Ugly splotches of black, blue, purples, greens and yellows engulfed your arm like a tattoo sleeve gone horribly wrong. His brows dipped as he looked at the rest of your arm before he looked at the other. It was the same thing, but not nearly as severe in terms of color and blotches. It was like it was spreading.

“What the hell?” He murmured as you seemed to be calming down. You pushed yourself of his leg to lay on your back on the ground as your chest stopped heaving and you stopped twitching. You closed your eyes, focusing on coming back down from whatever attack had ailed you and before too much longer, you were forcing yourself to sit up again.

Taehyung sat beside you, slowly drawing his hand back and away from you as you pushed your sleeve back down to cover your ruined skin. He narrowed his eyes at you as you looked back at him. For someone who wasn’t really alive, you seemed to have bags under your eyes. Something was straining you and you weren’t telling him about it.

“So?” He asked with a sharp tone as you just returned his word with a sigh as an answer. He wanted an explanation and he wanted it sooner rather than later.

“It’s not-”

“Tell me or I’m gonna annoy you continuously until you give in. We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

You ticked your eyebrow up at him. “You’re threatening me? You realized I’m the one who’s been taking down everything that has attacked us so far, right?”

“It’s not a threat,” he promised as he crossed his arms sitting on the floor. He looked like a child. In the end you let out another defeated sigh. There would be no point in arguing with him. He’d probably run you in verbal circles until he got his way anyway.

“You know how the rest of the gallery is corrupted, you’ve seen it. Everything in this world that is art is affected.” You grabbed the sleeve of your arm as you sat more comfortably. “Just because I’m fighting against it now, doesn’t mean I’m uneffected. It’s a distortion that affects the arts- good or bad- and we can’t do anything about it. I’m just stubborn.”

Taehyung sat for a moment before opening his mouth again.

“So, you’re going to turn bad too?” He asked timidly.

“It’s unfortunate, but inevitable.”

“That’s crazy,” he whispered to the floors when his chin dipped down. He groaned as he brought his hand up to ruffle his lightly colored hair. You had been protecting him ever since you found him and now there’s a chance you could turn against him too? That was just crazy. You wouldn’t just turn on him like that, right? It’d be gradual and not just flipping a switch from sane to insane, right?

He was pulled from his thoughts again when you moved to stand and he quickly mirrored your actions to stand in front of you. His arms hovered around your waist and back in order to catch you if you happened to fall again.

“Whatever happens, we just need to get you out of here as soon as possible. If we find the exit quickly, we can get you out before I completely lose it.” You turned, ready to start walking off again to explore further when Taehyung shot his hand out and caught your arm.

“Wait!” He shouted, the echoes of his voice bouncing off the white walls adorned with art that wasn’t malicious. “Will you be okay?” He asked even though he really knew the answer. You had just told him that you were going to eventually turn from who you are now to someone else- one way or the other.

You smiled at him, trying your best to reassure him but didn’t offer him a verbal answer. You slowly pulled his hand off you before you were telling him to follow you. His arm dropped back to his side slowly as he looked at your back with sad eyes.

He didn't know what hurt worse; the fact that you basically just told him ‘no’ or the fact that you didn’t say anything for him to understand because even if your eyes are just strokes of paint, they held so much in them and it twisted his gut.

Taehyung wasn’t very fond of the idea that he had to leave the peaceful atmosphere of the white gallery and go back out into the one that actively tried to kill him. His rose was safe in the zipped pocket inside his jacket as opposed to the outside pockets at his sides. He watched before he began to follow you once again.

The drastic difference between the white, bright gallery and the dark, dim, purple backlight one just from passing through a door still through him for a loop each time he went through another passageway. He stopped trying to guess what kind of room he’d be going into, because he’d probably guess wrong every time if he did.

You stayed on guard with your picture frame piece and he stood beside you-more ready to throw down with a sculpture than before- even if he still didn’t want to. He’d tell you what colors were where and lead you in directions if you asked if a certain color was around.

He briefly wondered how you managed to get around before he got there with your inability to see color, but then he stopped thinking about it because if you just went into a room that was filled with a problem- you probably just got rid of it. You were more than capable, you’ve proved that more than enough by this point.

“Taehyung,” you called from ahead of him. He had been so lost in thought his steps had slowed down and he was further back away from you than he knew. “Don’t lag behind.”

“Oh, right,” he called before he was jogging back to your side. Following you through a doorway, he wasn’t as shocked as he should have been to see a room that was dark with only a trunk inside of it. Walking in, you stepped up to it before you tapped it with your frame piece to see if something was inside.

There was only silence before the lid of it burst open.

You jolted, stepping in front of Taehyung as he raised his hand instinctively to maybe try and throw a punch at whatever might leap out of it, but nothing came out. The lid bounced against the back of the trunks frame. The inside of it looked like a pink cloud- it wasn’t empty, just unsettlingly pink. It was like cotton candy or maybe something thicker like thread that could trap you if you touched it.

“What-,” you started before you were yelping into direct fight or flight. The still pinkness in the trunk jolted before it shot out like sentient strings and separated into long, thick arms of darkened red that wrapped around you and Taehyung’s bodies.

Your backs were forced together and to your misfortune, your frame was knocked from your hand and clattered to the ground. The thick strands of red wrapped tightly around your midsections and squeezed as it entangled around your legs and arms and even around your forehead to keep you completely still. Immobilizing the two of you, it then started to slowly reel you in.

Your feet dragged across the ground and your toes lifted up and off the ground at some point as Taehyung was left to keep fumbling over his own feet. He wouldn’t fall no matter how tangled his feet got since he was bound and tied so tightly.

The pair of you were stopped in front of the trunk that seemed to bulge in size- like it was taking into account the size of two people before you were swallowed into the cloud of pink turned red. The sound of the trunks lid slammed above you both boomed like thunder before you were falling.

It felt weightless, but you could feel the wind rushing past you as you were sure you were coming closer to hitting the ground.

It was pitch black all around, but you felt Taehyung reach for you- now freed from the strands of red thread that had encased you both. You felt him wrap his arms around your shoulders from in front of you. His chest pushed against yours before his weight overcame your own and he was falling first in front of you.

The fall wasn’t long and it didn’t feel like enough to particularly kill a person, but when the two of you hit the ground with Taehyung bracing the fall you were quick to shoot up from his chest as he groaned laying on his back.

“Are you stupid?!” You scolded as he winced both from your shrieks and the pain of the fall. He sat up, rubbing his back as he just weakly laughed.

“Yeah, so?” Your eye twitched at his lame excuse for a joke at a time like this. As he recovered from his fall and came back to his senses that weren’t cloaked in sensitive fall-stricken shock, you looked around to where exactly you two fell.

It looked like you were pulled into a child’s coloring book. Scratchy, uneven lines of what looked to be crayon or oil chalks were used to make up houses, roads and not too far from you both was a mass of uneven, patchy blue chalk that you assumed was a lake of sorts from its size. It was dark, but it was lit with small patchy lights lining walls or suspending overhead like floating light bulbs.

You made it to your feet after you helped Taehyung, grabbing his hand and offering your shoulder for him to lean on. He graciously took it and you were quick to ask if his rose was alright. He dug it out of the inside pocket of his jacket and showed it to you. A petal or two were missing, but you assumed it was caused from the fall.

No wonder he hurt so much, you mentally noted with an eye roll; his rose was damaged.

You looked around and peered over the chalked created houses. Maybe if you investigated inside one of them, you’d find a vase for him to use to restore his rose petals. You hiked his arm over your shoulder for a more firm grasp on his body's weight on you.

“Alright, first things first,” you started as you got his attention. “We need to find a vase with water to get your rose to grow. That should take the pain away.” He muttered in agreement before both of you walked- ambled- off.

Walking with a body hanging off you was a lot harder than you initially though it would be. He would walk the best he could, but the injury and loss of his petals were obviously affecting him more than he was willing to let on.

The first house you both entered was a small one outlined in pink chalk and inside was just one big open room with a drawn, blue couch, a table and a coat rack. On the table was a vase, but it was empty. If it wasn’t all black and white to you, maybe you would have found the place almost charming in it’s own way- but it was just dull.

You quickly moved Taehyung to the couch and told him to stay put. Taking the vase you left the house and quickly moved down the chalked, dirt road down the lake you saw. Maybe you could put some of the fake water into the vase and just somehow make it work, who knows.

Making it to the lake, you knelt and dipped the vase into the mass of blue as it filled the vase. Your arm twitched before it was jerked and convulsed with it’s own corruption again and the vase slipped from your fingers for just a moment- but that moment was enough to lose it in the chalky blue mass of scribbles.

Without much thought, you dove into the water, quickly snatched it back and as fast as possible swam and pulled yourself out of the mass before anything that could possibly be in the lake even thought about grabbing you.

You huffed in annoyance as your clothes were dusted with chalk and even though it wasn’t real water- you felt damp. You shook out your sleeves before you got to your feet and went back to Taehyung who was waiting in the house you left him laying on the couch with heavy breaths.

When he saw you, his eyebrow quirked.

“What’re you covered in? Dust?” He asked as you just shook your head, kneeling at the couch side and replacing the vase filled with vibrant blue on the table again.

“Forget about it. Give me your rose, please.” your hand was outstretched and waiting as he quickly pulled it out and handed it to you. You hesitantly placed the stem into the water and let it sink as the blooms of the petals rested against the rim of the vase. You heard Taehyung sigh as if his pain was floating away and to your relief, two petals grew once again. “Thank goodness that actually worked,” you sighed.

Taehyung chuckled beside you. “Yeah, no kidding. That was all assumption- if that had taken more petals off, I think I would’ve passed out or something.”

“You mangled to take four petals of damager before,” you told him. “Besides, you weren’t that injured,” you told him as you took the rose back out of the vase and handed it to him to replace in his jacket. “You just don’t know how to take a fall.”

“Excuse me,” he scoffed in disbelief. “Who was the one who took the brunt of that fall, huh?” He sat up and crossed his arms like a child pouting. “A thank you would be nice to hear, you know.”

Your lips tilted in a smile as you moved to stand up and stretched your arms across your chest. You felt helpless without your frame piece that you had lost before you wound up here with the young, human artist. Looking at him like this, you wouldn’t think he’d be in as much danger as he is. He was in a whole different dimension with enemies at his back almost constantly, but here he was pouting for a ‘thank you’. You chuckled.

“Thank you, Taehyung,” you told him. You weren’t sure if it was the dim lights or maybe your vision going because of your own distorting body, but you thought you saw the blank shade of his skin to your eyes darken. Like color had possibly bloomed over his cheeks.

He cleared his throat before you could ask and he was getting up off the couch, walking to the door of the house. He was ready to leave, but stopped short. You came up behind him and opened your mouth to ask him what the problem was when he spun around and shushed you. He pushed you back and led you behind the couch, crouching down and covering you with himself as you both hid.

You had no idea what he thought he heard, but you kept quiet before you heard the door of the house you both were in squeak open. You looked at Taehyung as he looked up, focusing on listening for any indication of someone coming closer to your hiding place.

You racked your brain trying to think of what or who could be following you both. Had someone been inside the trunk before you and had seen you at the lake? You weren’t sure. You heard them pad into the house before they stopped and then a crash sounded through the walls of the room. The footsteps then walked back out of the room and the door slammed shut.

Taehyung and you stared at each other, still remaining silent for a few more moments before determining you were safe. He let out a breath as he peeked over the couch first and scanned the room. There was no one.

“It’s clear,” he whispered as he stood up and moved away from you as you stood up next to him. Your brows dipped as you saw the vase you had just used to heal Taehyung’s rose shattered into pieces with splashes of blue- grey to your eyes- dusted around the table top and blew onto the floor.

You looked at the door with a narrowed gaze. Just what was that? Could something you didn’t know about be wandering around? Then again, even you didn’t know everything there is to know about this gallery.

“I think we need to hurry,” you muttered, Taehyung quickly agreed as you both scurried out of the house. The two of you walked along the dusty, chalk paths before you were stepping up a set of stairs back into a proper gallery. It led to a section that you recognized. You started walking with ease, knowing what was where in this section and Taehyung took notice of that.

“Do you know where we are? I mean, you’ve known a good part of where we’ve been, but I mean-”

“This is my section of the gallery. My frame is hanging around here, so yes I know it.” You told him, interrupting his rambling for an answer to his question.

“Your frame?”

“Yes. You know I’m just a painting. The frame I was placed in and the frame I came out of is around here.”

“Can I see it?” He asked without much thinking before you stopped and turned to him. He almost slapped a hand over his mouth to keep himself from saying anything else without a filter before you turned on your heel and started off around a corner. “Y/n! Wait!”

“You wanted to see my frame, didn’t you?” You popped your head back around the corner to motion him to follow after you and he did so. He trailed you- just as he had been- and eventually you took him to a deadend hall. At the end of it, on the wall facing the rest of the narrow corridor, was an empty frame. “This is it,” you told him, motioning to it with as little care as you would as if you were showing off a bag of dog food.

The frame was silver and engraved with all sorts of weaves across it. It was sturdy and not undamaged. The glass of the frame was broken; however it must’ve been broken from the inside if the evidence of the glass at his feet was anything to go by. You must have burst from the inside out and created the glass mess in front of it. The plaque under the frame read ‘Leia’ as the young artist looked back to you with wide eyes.

“You’re Leia?” He asked. At the discovery he had a pang of small guilt in his stomach from thinking earlier on that he didn’t even want to see the painting since the rest of the gallery was out for his blood. You blinked at him as you nodded simply.

“That was my title when I was created, but I was given a new name because I was granted a soul and free will within this dimension.” You crossed your arms. “Why does it matter what my art piece name is?”

“It's just that the gallery I came from was named after you,” he told you. “I guess I just never expected you to be the last piece of art from someone- not that it’s a bad thing!” He defended at the unimpressed look in your painted eyes. “It was the discovery of that painting that gave my gallery the name it has. You’re like the main centerpiece of everything.”

You looked blankly at your empty frame.

“I doubt that the ‘Leia’ in the real gallery is like me. I may be ‘Leia’, but I’m more Y/n. It sounds ridiculous, but that painting isn’t me.” You softly traced the silver frame with your fingers before you were turning around again. “Come on, we’ve wasted enough time. No more detours.”

Taehyung was quick to chase after you but he couldn’t think of a thing to say to you. He wanted to talk to fill the silence that gaped between the two of you. Taehyung kept telling himself that he had no reason to try and figure you out, you were a painting for God’s sake. What could he possibly want to know?

Other than everything.

He wondered about a great many things and couldn’t help but overthink what you may or may not have been through. How did you feel about this world? Did you consider it home or maybe a sort of prison you were unfortunately born into. How did this world look to your colorless eyes? Just how did it feel being a painting exactly?

When you were ‘born’ and thrust into a world that was already starting to collapse, how did you survive? Did you fight from the beginning, or not? He wanted to ask all these questions, but he knew that he wouldn’t. It wasn’t his place to ask anyway- this world isn’t his and you weren’t even human.

Taehyung followed behind you as a feeling in his gut started to bloom. He raised his hand to his stomach and palmed it through his shirt as his steps slowed and he watched you ever so slowly get further ahead of him. He felt like he couldn’t do this without answers. So, he acted idiotically and moronically and selfishly.

Without you realizing, you got separated from Taehyung once again- only this time on purpose. The next time you turned around to check on why he was so silent, you stopped in your tracks not seeing him around you.

“Dammit,” you seethed.

-x-x-x-

Taehyung had back tracked all the way to your empty portrait frame. He stood in front of it once more as his fingers traced the letters of your plaque. The letters spelling out ‘Leia’ in fine script before he was tracing the frame itself.

He felt selfish for wanting to know about you- a painting- and keeping himself here in a world that actively tried to kill him longer than he needed to be. He scoffed at himself, his mind remembering how he had judged the artist in the book he had read before and how the artist got attached to something like a painting.

“Talk about the pot calling the kettle black,” he chided to himself.

He needed to go home and although he understood that, he wanted to know more about the living painting that had been protecting him up until this point. The same painting who was slowly getting infected with some weird, paint disease that could turn you against him at the drop of a pen.

He knew he was pressed for time. Time was precious, but he couldn’t help but feel like you were too.

Taehyung inspected the black emptiness of the frame that you had come from and reached his hand out. His hand jerked back when the pads of his fingers weren’t met with the sturdy wall that the frame hung on. Instead, the blackness encased by the silver frame rippled like murky water. It was like a pool of ink as he reached out to it again and started to sink his hand into it further.

He wondered how deep that ink went, how far could he reach inside before it stopped him. Could he be able to submerge himself fully into it, or maybe crawl into the frame like a painting himself.

“But then, what would that accomplish?” He questioned himself with a half-sarcastic attitude. However, even if he knew it was more than likely fruitless, he started to climb inside anyways. The frame was big, so he had no problem with grabbing the edges of the frame, lifting his leg over the bottom ledge of it and heaving himself inside the blackness.

He braced himself, feeling like it would feel like that monster from before that encased him in terror as it threatened his very life. However, this blackness wasn’t like before. It was dark and felt endless, but it lacked the deep pit of dread that the monster had. It felt like something- but he couldn’t place exactly what.

Loneliness maybe? Or perhaps a bittersweet sort of feeling; like being free, yet not being as free as a true human being. He walked around aimlessly in the blackness, feeling less and less like he was walking on the floor. He started feeling weightless, like he was walking on air.

There was clearly no end where he was, and he wasn’t so sure if he really wanted there to be. A light at the end of the tunnel? That wouldn’t apply in this situation and he knew that perfectly well. Or, he thought that would be the case. From behind him, he started to feel something close by, like the feeling of someone standing directly behind your back.

Whirling around, he saw nothing, felt no one and squinted his eyes as his ears started to pick up on some noise around. It sounded like it was echoing around from every direction, but he was still able to follow it- maybe it was because wherever he was in your frame was a directionless void.

It was nowhere and everywhere all at once.

As he walked, the blackness started to slowly light up from a greyscale and before long he was standing in a room. Like, a real room, but in this room he couldn’t touch anything. He was in a studio- covered in easels, paints, canvases, stains and tarps and cloth and everything in between.

However, if he even tried to touch something, his hand would just phase right through the object he wanted to grasp. He walked around the studio before the door to the room opened and hobbled in was an older man whose face he couldn’t see. His face wasn’t even that, it was just black scribbles where the features should have been. Static echoed around the room as he assumed that the old man was trying to speak, but the words didn’t reach Taehyung’s ears.

He walked to an easel that was covered with a white cloth before he set up his area and sat on a stool. He cleaned up some brushes, cleaned his palette and rearranged his paints to suit his needs and wants.

Taehyung watched in silence as the old man began to paint and even though there was clearly a passing of some sort of warped time, in the moment it all felt timeless. The end result was none other than your own portrait. He shouldn’t have been shocked to see your spitting image in your portrait, but he couldn’t help it.

Then the old man just turned his back, his fake face seemingly looking right at the young artist before he pointed at you. More specifically, he pointed to the white space of your canvas and Taehyung could have sworn he saw it ripple like water.

The setting of the studio began to suddenly fade out as he started hearing murmuring in the distance echoing around him. It sounded unbearably loud as he covered his ears and the studio brushed away in flakes like eraser debris.

“-yung! -hyung!” He felt like his head was about to burst as he felt something grab the back of his jacket and yank him backward. He was then tumbling out of your frame, out of the void and onto the floor of the demented gallery. “Taehyung!” Someone shouted his name above him as his eyes were blurry and he rubbed at them to try and get them to regain their focus. He blinked as his brows shot up when his eyes shot open wide.

“Namjoon?” There, above him, hovered his best friend. Taehyung quickly whipped around to his stomach before pushing off the ground and looking up to the blog journalist. “What? What are you doing here?”

“I should be asking you that.”

Taehyung was sure he was the only one who happened to fall into this sketched out dangerous gallery. Namjoon wasn’t even where he was left when Taehyung looked for him. He looked his friend over.

“How have you made it this far?” Taehyung was impressed. Aside from the disheveled state of his clothes with wrinkles and small beads of sweat on his brow and temple, he seemed fine.

“It wasn’t easy, I’ll tell you that.” Namjoon groaned as he pulled the artist off the floor and straightened out his jacket, brushing him off. “I’ve been running around like crazy for hours looking for you.”

Taehyung was shocked and honestly glad to see a familiar face. Then you came to mind. He wondered if you were looking for him after he just decided to pull that disappearing act on you. He felt guilty about it now that his actions settled in. For all he knew, you thought he got himself caught in another dangerous situation when he was really as safe as he could be in the moment.

“Did you happen to pass by a girl? Like, our age but wearing outdated clothing.”

“Someone else? No, I didn’t. Is someone else here?”

Taehyung shook his head. “No, she’s not a person, she’s a painting and- argh forget it! It’s a long story and from the look you’re giving me, you don’t believe me in the first place.”

“How hard did you hit your head when I pulled you out of that thing?” Namjoon asked as he used his thumb to lazily point to your empty frame. Taehyung squeezed his eyes shut as he rubbed at his temples. He remembered the way his head spun when Namjoon started calling him before he was dragged out by the man. His head had pounded just like how it did when he was in the room with the tar monster from earlier.

He tried thinking back to the man in the studio he witness and tried putting together anything that could be used as a clue on how to get home. He seemed to obviously be pointing to something, something Taehyung couldn’t help but feel was important. “Whatever you saw,” Namjoon called his attention, “forget it. It’s probably a trap or something. You can’t trust the things here.”

“Not everything is dangerous,” Taehyung countered with you in mind. “Y/n isn’t.”

Namjoon sighed annoyed. “You don’t know that. You said ‘she’ was a painting, right? You can’t trust something like that thing.”

“Don’t call her a thing,” Taehyung growled. “She’s kept me safe up until this point. Like it or not, I trust her. We need to find her before we get attacked by something.”

“Taehyung-”

“I’m not arguing about this. Finding Y/n takes first priority.” Normally, Taehyung was more than obedient when it came to Namjoon. Not only was he older, but the sense of leadership the older held made it easy to listen. However, Taehyung didn’t feel that air of ‘need to follow’ right now around him.

“What about leaving? What about that priority?”

“She can help us. Y/n comes first,” he finalized before he was turning on his heel and going off into the direction he had fled from your side. Namjoon clicked his tongue as he reluctantly followed behind.

Logically, even Taehyung knew that you’d probably be agitated for prioritizing your location over his freedom and escape out of this place. But, the nagging in his head didn’t let him argue the topic, even with himself. He wasn’t going to just find a way to escape and not tell you goodbye at the very least.

You had done nothing but help and protect him, the least he could do was tell you thank you properly before he left. It was the right thing to do, even if a little bit foolish. He knew that.

To his luck, it didn’t take nearly all that long for him to catch a glimpse of you rushing around a corner. You were jogging around, looking to and fro for something- he knew it was him- and he was quick to start shouting at you with his arm raised in the dark halls. Namjoon stood behind his shoulder, still unhappy.

“Y/n!” He watched your head whip around as you started running towards him. As you didn’t slow down in your approach, the closer you got the more nervous he became before you skit to an abrupt halt at his toes and got up into his face, grabbing his jacket collar.

“Stop going off on your own! Are you stupid or do you want to get attacked again that badly, huh?!” You shouted in rightful anger as he felt sweat gather on his neck. He raised his hands in defense as he slightly pushed your shoulders down to gain some distance away from your rage.

“I know, I shouldn’t have run off.” You slowly released his jacket. “That was my bad and I apologize, but,” he stepped away from you and twisted to show Namjoon. “I managed to find my friend. He was in the gallery with me before I got here. This is Namjoon.”

Taehyung introduced the two of you as you just stared at the man and he stared back in a silent competition that Taehyung definitely picked up on. Clearly, there wasn’t much hope of friendship on the horizon- but he figured you’d cooperate with him so that they could get out safely. You were that kind of person- cooperative if not a bit on the stubborn side.

“You found him, huh? Where?”

“Oh, I went back to your frame and he was there.” Taehyung easily answered, deciding to keep the fact that he crawled into the frame and saw what looked like memories to himself. What if it stirred something up with you? Your mood was already foul enough, he didn’t want to risk it.

He wasn’t one to stir the pot, so to speak.

Your brow twitched at his seemingly carefree manner at his ditching stunt. You groaned as you whacked him on the arm before pointing your finger at his face in a warning manner, making him go cross eyed momentarily.

“You run off like that again, and I’ll tie your wrist to mine. Got it?”

“Promise?” He teased as you just threw your hands in the air in defeat and started walking off. He wasn’t planning on running when your back was turned again. Just that one time was enough. Now that he was with Namjoon too, he couldn’t risk being as careless. “We’re going. Come on.”

“At your beck and call, Leader,” Taehyung chided, still trying to get your spirits higher from the mood he put you in. Namjoon followed behind silently with skeptical eyes as Taehyung chatted with you like he’d known you all his life.

-x-x-x-

Taehyung had since stopped his yammering as you lead the charge of three through halls and told them when to be silent and when to be cautious. You kept a close eye on Namjoon, something about the friend of Taehyung’s rubbing you the wrong way. You couldn’t say whether or not you were a good judge of character since Taehyung was the first human you ever met, but you still felt something off. His cold glare made your artificial skin crawl.

You had just walked through an archway before Taehyung made a noise of recognition as you turned to him. He looked around with wide eyes.

“What is it?”

“I feel like I’ve been in this area before.”

“Really?” You questioned. You’d never really gone into this portion of the gallery. It was always too dark to see and you were always put off by how quiet it was. It was like there was something on the other side of the walls that irked you. “Maybe you passed by here before I found you. I’ve never been in this part before.”

“You haven’t been here? I thought you had been everywhere.” Taehyung wasn’t accusing you, he was just curious. He wanted to know why you hadn’t been here.

“I had no reason to be,” you told him. “Besides, I don’t think a creature like me who’s slowly corrupting belongs in a tranquil part of this place.”

“So,” Namjoon finally intervened from behind the two of you. You both turned to look at his cross-armed figure, still glaring and fuming with some odd sense of presence you hated. “You admit you’re dangerous?”

Your brows furrowed. “Excuse me?”

“You said you’re corrupting. So? That sounds like a red-flag if I’ve ever heard one.”

“I’m sorry,” you scoff in disbelief, “has it been you getting Taehyung through this place in one piece? Or maybe it was you who has been taking down threats left and right and going on wild goose chases when things go south. No?”

“Guys-” Taehyung tried dispersing the stifling air, but Namjoon’s ire interrupted him. You both went back and forth and before long you were at Namjoon’s toes, arguing with him face to face- quite literally. Taehyung watched as he tried to think of a way to calm you both down. The last thing he wanted was to both waste time and have the two sides of his trust arguing against each other.

Taehyung was going to open his mouth and shout or something, just to break the string of tension, but his jaw had just dropped when you had stopped mid-sentence. Your hand was raised, an accusatory finger pointed at his best friend’s chin when it started to drop just a fraction to his chest.

“Y/n?” Taehyung called. He shrieked when your hand came to grip his chin, squeezing his jaw as you yanked Namjoon’s face down to look into his eyes. “Woah! Y/n, c-calm down!” You narrowed your eyes before you shoved him away, making his feet stumble back a handful of steps to keep himself upright. Taehyung came to your side as you shook your hand as if it was contaminated. He looked you over and noticed the uneasy look on your face. “What’s-”

“Why are you sticking to that painting like glue?” Namjoon called to Taehyung as he rubbed his jaw. “I’m your friend here, not that.” Taehyung looked up and towards the journalist with confliction.

“T-that’s true, but-”

“But nothing. That thing just grabbed and shoved me, but you’re at it’s side like I did something wrong. You should be checking on me, not fawning over that.” He pointed at you, his eyes grew small in anger as you just shot back at him a silent glare.

Taehyung was less than pleased to keep hearing Namjoon refer to you as ‘it’ or a ‘thing’. Painting or not, you were still alive and, dammit, Namjoon needed to accept that already. He was ready to tell him off, defend you when you spoke first in a low tone.

“Do you trust me?” You asked. You were looking dead at Namjoon, but the artist knew you were addressing him. You repeat the question when you’re met with only silence. Taehyung immedately nodded when the question was repeated.

“Yeah, of course I do.”

“WHY?!” He jumped from Namjoon’s shriek across from the two of you. Your shoulders squared and the action didn’t go unnoticed. “Why trust something you just met?! Who is admitting to killing things and slowing losing its mind?!” His brought his hands to his chest, gesturing to himself. “You should be trusting me!”

“What is wrong with you,” Taehyung whispered in concern, wondering what happened to his best friend. He was normally the type to roll with anything, even in stressful situations he always tried to take it with a grain of salt. He was an optimist, or at least he always tried to be. No matter the dark tunnel, there’s always a light; it was basically Namjoon’s life motto. “Did something happen? Stop accusing Y/n and just talk to-” he gasped when he felt your hand grasp his. Your face was downcast as you squeezed his palm. “Y/n?”

You whipped your head up and looked at him dead in the eyes. “We have to run.” Taehyung jolted back. Run? From what? You looked back at Namjoon, your colorblind eyes slowly unveiling just who and what that best friend of Taehyung’s was. “We need to get away from him as soon as possible. He’s dangerous.”

“What?” Taehyung was in instant denial. Namjoon? Dangerous? The same Namjoon who would cry if one of his plants died or would lay on the floor, staring at the ceiling if someone asked him what his favorite brand of pen is for the hundredth time? “That’s not true, he’s-” Taehyung looked at his best friend to defend him, but stopped short.

Something about him was off. Taehyung had noticed it since the beginning, but dismissed it all. Now, it looked like some veil of black was hovering around his friend’s body as he glared at you. Namjoon didn’t look like himself. He looked fake and at that, Taehyung’s eyes widened.

He looked artificial- just like how you did to his human eyes.

You must have seen it in his eyes, that’s why you grabbed his chin to inspect him further. That’s why you shoved him away and that’s why you wanted Taehyung to flee.

Your hand dropped his as you caught sight of the thing disguised as Taehyung’s friend moving just slightly. You stepped in front of the artist before you took off before ‘it’ could. It lunged and you were quick to react. You lifted your foot and slammed it into it’s stomach as it leaned forward- not at the lack of air, but the force you put into your stomping. You locked your arm around the back of its neck as you tucked it’s head under your arm and held it in place in a lock.

You groaned as you felt your arms burn with contamination again and your grip almost loosened at the paintings thrashing because of it. You planted your feet as firmly as you could, even if the thrashing made you teeterd from your heels to your toes and skid an inch back or forward here and there.

You weren’t sure how long you’d be able to keep the thing under your arm contained and although you had just told Taehyung not to leave your side again, you were ready to tell him to run off and hide somewhere until you could find him.

The moment you turned your head on your shoulders to shout for him to do so, you halted to see him literally at your back already. His large hands had planted themselves one on your back to steady you and the only ensnared in the fake Namjoon’s clothed back, gripping it’s clothes firmly. Even the fabric felt like paint under his nails as he started to rip the thing away from you.

Taehyung caught sight of the fake’s face and what used to be identical to Namjoon had muddled away to show a white tar surface with no sense of expression. He sneered as he took your place of taking it on before he was shoving it backward.

Although he wasn’t a fighter, Taehyung was no push over. He could hold his own if he really ended up needing to and at the moment, he did. He pushed the fake as it stumbled on it’s own clumsy feet before it started to go after him again. Taehyung swung his elbow out, cathing the fake in the whiteness of it’s face before it hit the ground.

He backed up away from the thing he just put on the ground, turning to you and snatching your hand in his again.

Taehyung’s hand squeezed yours and when he did, you spun on your heels and took off, fleeing with the young artist beside you. You both heard ‘Namjoon’ scream behind your backs as Taehyung looked back to see it still laying on the floor, skriming.

Taehyung was terrified, more terrified than he was before. He was terrified on how it gained his trust so easily- a thought that almost made him angry. He felt stupid as he held onto your hand like a linelife as you weaved through the halls and soon came to a staircase.

You stopped as you looked over your shoulder as Taehyung buckled to his knees and heaved after sprinting for so long. He used the wall to support himself as you looked at him trying to gather his breath.

You looked at your hand in his and attempted to pull it away from him, but he just squeezed tighter onto you and tugged it back.

“A little longer,” he whispered. After a few minutes of him gathering himself and you making sure you both weren't followed, he stood back to his height and continued to hold you hand. “Hey,” he called with a tight throat. “If we run into anyone else, if you don’t trust them, tell me and I won’t either.” You didn’t say a word to try and deter him from using your judgement as his own, you simply nodded in agreement.

If all worked out, he wouldn’t need to use your opinions for much longer. You were going to get him out.

The two of you ascended the staircase before you and when you reached the top, Taehyung looked around to see the spitting image of the original gallery.

The white walls and matching floors and ceilings. The chandeliers that weren’t on with the power out and the windows all greyed out as if they were blocked by cement. The front doors were locked as if there was no escape. Trying a switch, he wasn’t shocked to see the lights not working.

“Can you lead from here,” you asked him, just trying to get him to talk again. “I don’t know my way around.” He only nodded before he was walking off, tugging you in tow as you thought of ways to make his voice come out again. You felt oddly uneasy when he was silent. The previous incident with the fake friend of his obviously taking a mental toll on him. It was to be expected, but it still hurt your chest.

If you had a beating heart, you’d call this feeling heartache.

It was when you passed by a rather mundane looking couch that was suclupted in a strange, wavey shape when you figured out a way to get him to talk. You stopped and your hand in his anchored him when he looked over his shoulder. When he looked at you, you pointed to the sofa surrounded in rope dividers.

“What colors is that?” You asked when you looked back at him. Your actions and unspoken desire to get his voice to come out didn’t go unnoticed-

He smiled. “It’s red,” he told you.

-Nor did it go unappreciated.

From that, he would tell you the colors of whatever you pointed at that you passed and before he knew it he had come to a deadend with only one, giant painting on the wall- taking up the entire space of it. His mouth opened as his hand dropped from yours as he looked at it.

“That’s,” he looked at it as his eyes ran over every edge. “That looks like the gallery. The real one,” he smiled as he gazed at it. This was it, his way out. He felt in his bones that this was his exit. His hand reached to touch the canvas, but gasped when his hand just phased right through. It was just like how your frame was. He could climb into this and be somewhere else.

Then he felt a chill run down his spine and a heavy feeling fall in his gut. He pulled his hand back as he turned around and looked at you. You were well behind him against the back wall, your hands behind your back as you watched him.

“What?” You asked. This was his way out and you both knew it. You expected him to jump on through and finally be free of this hellscape, but instead he made his way back to you and away from his exit door disguised as a painting. He stood in front of you, toe to toe as he looked at you.

Taehyung gazed at you, his eyes began to sting as they felt misty. This was ridiculous, he felt ridiculous. How could he cry about leaving you behind when he just met you? You didn’t belong in his world and he knew that just as much as you. Yet, the feeling of parting ways with you made his throat tight.

“I’m leaving,” he told you. “And I won’t ever see you again,” he choked. You were shocked to see the first tear run down his face. You wondered if tears were blue. You brushed it away with the back of your hand as more just kept coming. He could see the distortion on your skin under your sleeve from the angle of you wiping his tears and he just wanted to cry more.

His mind started becoming delusional.

If he chose not to leave and stayed put with you, would you hurt him? Would you hunt him down in time and kill him like the others had before? Would he lose his humanity even? Turn into a painting and spend the rest of his time with you. You wouldn’t be alone if he did. What if he tried to take you back with him? Would you just disintegrate into paint splotches because you had no physical body to speak of?

So many hypotheticals and you wouldn’t allow any of them to come to fruition.

“Go home, Taehyung,” you told him softly with a smile, the hand you placed on his cheek rubbed his skin before letting it softly fall. You urged him, not commanded him and he knew he had to go. He sniffled as he grabbed your hands and held them again. “What, you want a hug goodbye or something?” You teased but when he didn’t reply, you rolled your eyes. “You do, don't you?”

“And? What about it,” he sniffed as he pouted. You pulled your hands away from his, even if he chased after them when you did. You swatted at his hands that tried grabbing yours once more.

“Do you want me to hug you or not?” You asked in impatience while he nodded like a child. “Then let my hands go.” He immediately abandoned your hands and wrapped his arms under your own and pulled you to your toes against his chest. You felt your chest hit his with a dull thud as he held you like you were dying.

Well, you sort of were, but he didn’t need the finer details repeated on your unavoidable fate.

He started swaying you on your toes as he found a home on your shoulder. One of your hands was on his head, shushing him and the other pat his back between his shoulders. He really was like a giant child. Was this what a goodbye hug felt like? It felt nothing like the hug he gave you when he was attacked previously and reunited with him. This one felt much more sad- desperate even.

“Teahyung,” you whispered as you felt him hum against your shoulder. “You need to go.”

“I know,” he admitted before he started to pull away from you when your hands moved to land on his shoulders to push him softly. His eyes looked swollen and wondered what color the skin around his eyes were. It looked darker to your black and white vision. “I think- I think I’m going to miss you. A lot.”

You brought a hand to his cheek again, stroking it as you smiled at him.

“You’ll forget a painting like me in no time,” you eased. He frowned at that, wanting to hug you again, but you just pushed him away. Turning him by his shoulders, you started to push him from behind to the frame before you came to his side. You gestured towards it. “Home is waiting for you.”

He swallowed another large lump in his throat. He curled his lips over his teeth to keep from crying anymore. He was so overly emotional and he was annoying himself because of it. He could only imagine how you felt watching his waterworks.

“What’s going to happen to you?”

“I’m going back to my frame,” you told him. “I’ll go back to my home too,” you smiled. He felt a small sliver of relief at your answer. “We’ll both go back to where we belong, just as he should. It’ll be okay.” You pat his back. “I promise.” You felt bad, lying straight to his face like that.

He nodded before he grabbed the inside of the frame, and began to hull himself over. He had one knee resting on the frame edge and the other still hanging out when he turned and looked down at you hovering above you on the wall. He reached in his jacket and pulled out his rose before he handed it to you. It was a silent agreement as he passed it onto you- he knew he wouldn’t need it anymore. You’d keep it safe even if he wasn’t there anymore and he knew you would.

He put on his brightest smile, “see you around, Y/n,” before he jumped completely through.

As his body faded into the stretched, painted fabric of the canvas and the frame seemed to close like a locked portal that you couldn’t ever even think about passing through, you fell to the ground, screaming as your body felt like it was on fire.

You laughed bitterly as you were just relieved that the one precious person you managed to meet in your miserable existence as a painting without a future was someone as kind and warm as Taehyung.

-x-x-x-

Taehyung felt dazed.

He was staring at a plaque as his eyes were bleary like he had just woken up from a long nap. He felt like yawning before he felt a shake on his shoulder. He lifted his head, rubbing his eyes.

“Hey,” Namjoon called with concern written on his face, “what’s with you? You zoned out for like two minutes.”

“I dunno,” he replied. He moved to look at the giant painting of a black location with messy brushes of what looked like some haunted locations. “I feel like I just woke up from a really nap.” He yawned as he read the name of the painting loud to himself. “Parallel Reality,” the words read and they sounded familiar to him. “I feel like I'm forgetting something,” he frowned. “Didn’t the lights go out a little while ago or something?”

“Dude,” Namjoon’s hand fell from his friend’s shoulder. “You really need to get some proper sleep if you’re taking micro-naps, standing up, around this many people and dreaming about power-outages.” It was only then that the artist was aware of all the sounds around him- buzzing from every corner of the building.

“I don’t wanna hear that from the reigning champ of disarranged sleep schedules.”

The journalist and young, free-lance artist continued walking around the blinding white gallery. People crowded the place and the murmur of them all talking in whispers comforted Taehyung for a reason he couldn’t exactly explain.

He and Namjoon had started down the final hall they had left to view. The sme hall that happened to contain the naming right to the gallery in the first place. At the end of the hall, hanging on the dead-end wall was the one painting called ‘Leia’. The piece Taehyung came to see specifically to see if he could be sprung out of his art-block.

As he stood in front of the painting, he inspected it.

It was a young woman dressed in dated clothes with her eyes looking off to almost mimic looking off the canvas. Her legs were coiled in thorns and she looked like she was running from something, but with a protective sense and not a fearful one. She held a blue rose in her hand as the silver, engraved frame encased the painting.

The piece wasn’t what he was expecting, but somehow looking at the piece, he felt calm despite the action set formed in brush strokes. As the tour guide in charge of 'Leia’ began to explain how it was the artist’s last piece, Taehyung began to zone out again, while Namjoon scribbled down notes beside him.

As she yammered on and on, Namjoon soon caught sight of his friend’s face. He stopped his writing as he lifted his pen up and lowered his arm to tuck it away in his pocket,. When his hand was free of any writing utensil, he placed it on Taehyung’s back.

“Hey,” he whispered softly to not gain attention from the other’s standing around them. “Why are you crying?”

Taehyung jolted as he quickly brought his hands to his face.

He was crying.

When did he start and why? He wiped them away only for more to follow through. He was soon silently hunched over sobbing. Why did he feel this way by looking at a painting? Art had always given him a sense of emotion- but he hadn’t felt such sorrow before.

“I don’t know,” he whimpered as Namjoon took him to some place less crowded. As Taehyung calmed down, he felt oddly refreshed.

“You okay now? I’ve got enough notes for an entry if you want to leave.”

“Yeah,” he replied. “I want to go home and paint,” he announced as Namjoon smiled, happy to see a spark behind Taehyung’s eyes return. The spark of an artist that had finally overcome his art-block.

“Alright, then let’s get going.” As the two men walked out, reception bidding them farewell, Namjoon started making conversation. “So, what do you want to paint?”

“I’m not sure, but maybe a blue rose garden or something. Paired with something old fashioned, like outdated clothing or old picture books. I’ll figure it out when I get to my studio.”

He didn’t voice it, but he knew he’d be back to view ‘Leia’ again, and this time he wouldn’t cry. The calmness he felt from the painting- regardless of his tears- was like being reunited with an old friend.

What kind of man would Taehyung be if he cried in front of a friend?

-END-

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wannaliveattheholidayinn · 4 years ago

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Alright, now that I've been given a few hours to stew and think and cry and have several breakdowns over the cancellation,,, let's talk about how I found this show, my relationship to it, and why I love this show

Anyone who's interacted with me in this fandom, be it over tumblr or in the discord know I started watching because my dance teacher was an extra in the Help! scene (bc I never shut the fuck up about it). But it did start a little earlier.

I had seen a few ads, on NBC and on YouTube. I thought it looked interesting, but I was in sophomore year, having breakdowns just about every other day, the homework was hard, and there were also reports of the virus. At the time it seemed so far away, but I had a feeling it would arrive soon. So it didn't seem like something I could add to my plate. I thought it would simply become another Good Girls to me (aka a show I really wanted to watch, and still kinda do, but I never really got around to it.) So, watching it kind of fell to the back of my mind. And then... that fateful day.

It was a big deal when the teacher would put on the TV in the main studio. It didn't happen often, and when it did, it always had to do with dance in some way. But my teacher was on YouTube and googling Zoey's. We sat down, I even grabbed my glasses so I could see what we were watching. We picked up at the ladies singing "Whatta Man" which the owner of my studio was howling at. I'm lucky enough that two of my teachers have been involved in Smuin Ballet in San Francisco, one still currently in the company (although she just had a baby and... y'know professional dance is hard in the pandemic.) I'm also lucky enough to have met another former Smuin dancer who was also an extra in the Help! scene. So, my teacher pointed himself and the other former Smuin dancer out, funnily enough, they were similarly dressed. So, the scene ended and we went on with our class. I went home and put on the first episode.

And then... well we all know what happened next. The US went into lockdown, and there wasn't much to do.

And yeah, I had school. I went into the two five pm history classes I had, I still had homework,,, but other than those two history classes and the occasion english class there was nothing... dance had stopped, homework, class, and the workload changed. Suddenly, I was left with a lot of free time. So, continued to watch Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist. For a while, it was Killing Eve and Zoey's Playlist, but then that went away, and it was just Zoey.

(also, yes, I'm aware this isn't linear and in chronological order, but give me a break, my memory is already shit and this pandemic just made it worse.)

In April, I wrote my first fanfiction for the show. It was this small, little piece of fluff that showed a future Zimon and their four kids (four kids, Jesus Christ, what was I onnnnnn). It's already outdated bc of my use of Eddie and not Perry but I still hold it very dear to my heart. It was posted on ao3 on Jun 13, 2020, and was my first fanfic on the site. I've posted more since then, but it's still overwhelmingly zep there, and I currently have two ongoing fanfics. My goal is to become that person in the zep fandom who is known for her works where people perceive Zimon's relationship, in a funny but wrong way (and when I say people, I (mostly) mean Tobin.)

I love Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist. It's made me laugh, made me cry, made me sing along with it, and made me actually fully enter a fandom. I've considered myself in fandom long before Zoey's, but Zoey's actually had me interacting with others. It's technically not my first fandom. I'd say that was Mighty Med, all the way back in sixth grade. But it's the first where I've actively interacted with others and even made an acquaintance (Isabella ily 💗).

Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist had moments that made it hard for me to love it the way I do. There have been some bad writing decisions. I personally don't ship cl*arkeman, even though it's clear they are endgame.

But, I still love it. It was a coping mechanism in a hard time, and I love that it helped me. And I know it helped others as well.

I know not everyone is going to understand my comparison to Cloak and Dagger. They are vastly different shows. But the cancellation... that's what gets me the most about both. They were both canceled in a way where the fandom was going to feel like crap. Both were canceled after two seasons when they had more story to tell. It was done quietly, and there was backlash. Different programs eyed them. The difference is we don't know how this one will end yet. Cloak and Dagger was canceled, and I'll never be the same. I'll never truly be over it. And while I know I'm not in the right headspace to process this cancellation, I think I may be able to find a way. It'll be really, really fucking hard. But I'm slowly getting there with Anne with an E, and I think I could with Zoey's. It was an incredible show while it lasted, and if it's its time to go... I'm glad for the time I had with it and will help keep it going along with others in the fandom. All that being said...

Save Zoey's Playlist

Start petitions (ig, idrk how change.org works), keep it trending on Twitter, let NBC know it made a mistake, and let other streaming services know we're interested in seeing the show go on. It deserves a clean resolution that's not a cliffhanger. Just let these characters be happy in the end.

This doesn't have to be another Cloak and Dagger, or Timeless, or whatever show anyone has felt never got a proper chance to tell its story and end in a satisfying way. It can be another Brooklyn Nine-Nine, or Lucifer, or Friday Night Lights (me, side-eyeing NBC for that one). This doesn't have to be the end. And maybe I'm too late to writing this, maybe it's not trending anymore and it won't trend again, and it won't get picked up. But at least we can say we tried.

This was long as fuck to write, and I could've put that time towards... idk homework ig, or writing the fanfiction I just started, or any of my ongoing two. But it felt it necessary to write this. I don't know why, maybe I just needed to get this shit off my chest. If no one in the fandom reads this... eh, I really can't blame you, it's long as all fuck.

If you did, and you got this far, I love you, I love this fandom, I don't regret my time here, and I hope you don't either. It means the world to me that you read this.

I love you all, and I'll shut up now 💖💗💖💗

#i'm starting a new tag for when i fucking rant #04 rants #there :D #zoey's extraordinary playlist #zoey's playlist #zoeys extraordinary playlist #zoeysplaylist #mutuals i love you please forgive me for this long ass shit

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simtrospective · 4 years ago

Photo

SCRAPPED STORY CHALLENGE by @bugsims

01. Post a few screenshots from a scrapped scene / edit / story! 02. Share why you scrapped this specific thing. 03. Tag five friends, and watch the fun play out!

Thank you to @gilded-ghosts for the tag.

Because I wrote so much that you might prefer to skip, let me do 03. outside the cut. I tag...

@ladykendalsims - @jet-plane-sims - @boogey-studios - @pinkmonsimblr - @dynastiasimss

The above pictures (plus the related tray files) are all I have left of an idea that was half-formed to begin with and which never got off the ground at all.

01.

Depending on if you’re a follower of mine + how long you’ve been following me, you may have seen a few of these shots before but I’ll explain them anyway:

Set 1: The characters Charlie, Hick, and Craig, in their original states on the left and their enhanced, final states on the right;

Set 2: A few WIP pictures of the performance space/club/thing I built;

Set 3: A bunch of test shots I took to see how the characters looked interacting, what they did naturally, and how they looked when I ~directed them. I used these pics to try and find my editing style for the story. I didn’t find the style I wanted. Clearly.

02.

I scrapped this idea because it never came together; I didn’t connect with the characters; I didn’t care about the storyline; I’m not done with my new save so I couldn’t ~comfortably start telling this story when the rest of the world was/is disordered; and on and on. The point is, I wasn’t feeling any of this. Oh! And I hate the whole vibe and time period and aesthetic irl; what on earth was I thinking writing about it?!

So. What was this going to be?

[[Under the cut because this is... so, so long. So long.]]

Charlie, Hick, and Craig were

going

to live in Del Sol Valley in my new save, in the Pinnacles neighborhood, which I was

going

to turn into a Laurel Canyon-style neighborhood. An entire community of would-be songwriters/musicians were

going

to live in the two smaller lots and commune with one another and be the New Guard colliding with the Old Guard; the huge mansion lot was

going

to house an aging former film-current soap actor confronting his mortality and also hating the living shit out of these hippies whose existence he took as a personal affront--I digress. Back to the “story.”

Charlie, Hick, and Craig met after each arrived in DSV separately and they vibed and they moved in together, all in a matter of, like, a week’s time. Charlie and Hick vibed especially. So much in common! Such poor little rich [kids]! Both came from pampered environments in which their family money and respective fathers’ connections allowed them to skate through life and to play at being musicians because--despite crying oppression at the hands of upper class WASP-dom--they'll always have safety nets to ensure they’ll always be okay. Charlotte Grant graduated from her all-girls prep school and put on a floppy hat and became Charlie Grant; Richard Hickey (lololol) ripped up his acceptance letter to Britechester and grew his hair out and hitchhiked and told people to call him “Hick.” They’ve lived parallel lives and “recognize” one another as soon as they meet. They have an electric connection, but neither will verbalize that. Above all, they... really want to sleep together.

Craig grew up working class and has no safety net; he just wants a little adventure before he gets a real job/grows up/gets married (his gf back home is off to college; they’re long-distance; it’s... not going to work). He’s a good guitar player and he’s a good songwriter and that’s it but maybe it’ll be more? What do they say about the lottery? Can’t win if you don’t play? Charlie and Hick want to be famous ~rule the world. Hick plays guitar well and tries to write songs but they’re shitty. Charlie is passively learning the keyboard and writes songs that are not... bad...? Some are... good?

Charlie and Hick--can you tell they eclipse Craig, yet?--have weird sexual chemistry and tension: they tease, they flirt, they taunt, they enjoy one another’s attention but they never so much as hug. They both have cruel streaks as only disconnected, spoiled, emotionally stunted bluebloods can: the torture of their relationship/non-relationship gets them off more than anything else could and that thrill drives much of their behaviors: bringing wanton strangers home for one night stands, each hoping the other is watching/overhearing, fighting about little things, acting like inappropriately close siblings, acting like strangers. Craig suffers their whims; Charlie and Hick aren’t just united in their toxicity and their dreams of fame, but in how they make Craig into a third wheel or a--well, punching bag is too strong a term. Charlie and Hick think they’re teasing their bff but you know how it is to be teased allllll the tiiiiiiime and how it can make your head spin when people who can’t get along with one another join forces--without even having to discuss it--to turn on you. Their relationship gets patched up, you’re hurting, they insist it’s not a big deal and even that you even liked it. We’re all friends. We’re all best friends omg.

But sometimes they have fun together. They have a lot of fun together. Sometimes it all is everything each dreamed it would be. DSV is a wonderland and their careers are happening and life is happening and they’re best friends. They’re soulmates for life.

The three work on music, perform at clubs. Craig is starting to come into his own as a man. I hate the term coming-of-age but in the background of the Charlie & Hick Show, Craig is maturing. He has to, because C&H are fuck-ups. They jeopardize scheduled performances. They don’t know how to talk to club owners. They’re not interested in paying their dues. They are unable (or unwilling) to promote themselves without being obnoxious attention whores. They don’t practice or help write songs. They don’t take care of the house. Hick is late with his rent. Charlie thinks she can flirt her way out of everything. Craig is also the only one of them who works; he has a day job at a print shop, gives guitar lessons on the side, and makes sure the three get gigs and don’t get evicted. The only thing C&H put consistent effort toward is making the social scene or finding a party or scoring drugs or getting laid. As the group’s local star(s) rise, their fates start to change course which increases the interpersonal tension. Hick’s fun-loving nature is starting to turn into a legit substance abuse problem and he’s picking fights with the wrong people and socially devolving, his arrogance and issues and general laziness rendering him unable to relate to others; Charlie is getting a lot of attention from older men In the Business, who have the money and connections to make her a solo star, which she is shrewdly considering; and Craig’s resentment toward his “friends” and disillusionment with the superficiality of DSV is making him rethink his motivation for coming west in the first place.

Oh, and Charlie and Hick--again, as their paths change and as their weird tension remains unresolved--continue to take their bullshit out on Craig and now it’s not funny anymore, it’s not cute, it’s not exciting, and neither is it when Hick ruins a show by being too stoned to perform and neither is it when Charlie brings unsavory characters home who trash the three’s equipment and neither is it when C&H steal Craig’s songs and perform without him at a gig they didn’t tell him about.

What I intended was that the story would at first seem to be The Charlie and Hick Show, all about them, as if we’re supposed to root for them, but ideally, through my ~deft hand 🙄 the reader 🙄🙄 was supposed to be like, Um... hold on-- until it eventually was quite obvious that these two--though human; though in situations we could understand and empathize with--were captured at a point in their lives when they were Super Toxic Assholes, and what you were watching all along was Craig as Hero.

So I had ideas, but I didn’t know how to fit them together and I didn’t want a really long story and I couldn’t--I just couldn’t figure it out. I do know that the end was going to be Craig screwing them like they’d been screwing him, a final middle finger with consequences. I know that he and Hick were going to have words and Hick was going to try and fight him (such a loser) and Charlie was going to throw a Hail Mary of like... trying to seduce (lol) Craig into staying omg I always had a thing for you/we’d be such a great team/I always thought we could ~be something ~together uwu bullshit like that. Was this true? Was this true in her own mind? I think I was going to set the story up so that if you reread, yeah, it could be true, but she’s so flirty and manipulative and socially savvy and used to getting what she wants that who knows what her real feelings ever are? Ultimately that would’ve been irrelevant bc Craig never looked at her that way and hates her and Hick now; good going guys. It’s worth noting, I guess, that when I put the group on a test lot, Charlie was super into Craig immediately, went right to him, stood close to him, was eager to make romantic overtures; she went 0 to 60 in an instant and as so far as is possible in this game they had chemistry, but Craig was not feeling the romance. And no one was feeling Hick.

Anyway, Craig was going to move on with his life and Charlie and Hick were going to learn nothing and blame him, ~the end.

And then, as I continued to play my save and maybe tell more stories, there would be Easter eggs, references to Charlie, Hick, and Craig older/in the future and where they went in life in the background of other, unrelated stories: Hick’s substance abuse problems and rehab stints and going by Richard again and his eventual moderate fame and eventual sobriety and attempted comeback and his bad relationships with his exes and children; Charlie’s legit fame + marriage to a producer + eventual fade away + moderate comeback + solid second or third marriage and bff relationship with her children 🙄🙄🙄 and her palatial house on the coast and now she exclusively wears white and ivory and pampers her dogs and eats raw (but drinks wine) because it “cured” her undiagnosed, unnamed “autoimmune disorder,” which she wrote a book about resulting in a semi-comeback but as a Famous Person and not a musician. Craig going to college and becoming a high school English teacher who plays in a local band on the weekends and who has a good marriage (not to the long distance gf) and nice kids, one of whom would eventually have her own story where she pursued musicianship with her dad, which got him back into his first passion but it was a qt father-daughter project and not An Attempt to Be Famous.

So. Idk. That’s what this all would’ve been. But it wasn’t, and it won’t be!

#sims 4 #ts4 #scrapped story challenge

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fmdtaeyongarchive · 4 years ago

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rewriting ash’s intro post since i link it on his plots page so that the info’s up to date since my last rewrite is over two years old. i added quite a bit about his personality/characterization, so feel free to read it but also feel equally free to ignore it.

tw: mention of depression/anxiety

ashton taeyong kwon, born in san francisco, california on december 24, 1995, and was raised there until age 13

his stage name is taeyong, but friends call him ash. he’s learned to respond to taeyong tho and doesn’t mind fans and acquaintances calling him that; he just doesn’t really like being called ashton unless you’re his actual mom and he will generally make his distaste known if you do that. fans don’t really know he goes by ash in his private life so they call him taeyong and he’d like to keep it that way. (he’s not a fan of fans pretending to have a closer relationship with him than fan-artist... lmao)

was a musical baby from birth so he started taking piano, dance, and guitar lessons pretty early and fell in love with all three

auditioned for bc entertainment’s global audition in los angeles for fun more than anything else as a dancer. he didn’t know a ton about korean music (or korean language) but figured it couldn’t hurt since he knew he wanted to pursue a music career

won a contract offer and decided to go for it with his parents’ approval, so he moved to seoul by himself at 13

he knew very little korean, so he was kind of isolated as a trainee and was really lonely. his parents probably shouldn’t have let him move his life overseas alone at such a young age and on such short notice knowing his personality, but they kinda wanted to live the childfree life again since they had him so young and without plans to have a kid

(his parents are good parents for the most part, though! he loves them to death and they’re very loving and supportive, they’re just the types that didn’t plan to have a kid until it happened on accident)

by the time he debuted, he knew korean well enough to get by but he did have some attitude scandals when they first debuted because he was trying to overcompensate for not being 100% fluent

bc decided his image should be more ~broody and artsy~ to avoid more attitude scandals. since then, it’s evolved into james dean-esque bad boy heartthrob, but for the longest time his image was pretty much being quiet which led to him not being super popular until he eventually started to shape his own solo career (so he now has a lot of akgaes)

things were going pretty well for him for a while ! knight was doing great and yeah maybe he was a little overworked but he was performing ! which is what he wanted ! right ? right ?????

all hell broke loose on valentine’s day in 2016 when one rather minor dating rumor released by a media outlet led to a much bigger scandal which originated in fan communities through “leaked” pictures of him out with other female celebrities in common date locations or, in one case, entering a hotel together on more than one occasion

antis quickly ran with the narrative of him being a player/womanizer/serial dater/cheater, etc. and further “evidence” appeared on fan communities like unsubstantiated “eyewitness” stories and convenience store receipts and it took a big toll on his reputation despite the company coming out with a statement denying everything and claiming he was only friends with the women

it became a big mess and he tried to put on a strong face but in reality it tore him up because now everyone was talking shit about him online and trying to make his private life their business and he ended up in a Really Dark Place

was pretty much dungeoned outside of knight activities for about eight months before he was made one of the members of the white knight sub unit to get him back in the public’s graces which worked on a minor level. he got his first solo activities (osts) around this time as well to test out public response.

in 2017, got caught with another female idol at a convenience store at night which sparked dating rumors, but those were more easily dismissed. late that year, he got in a scandal for causing a commotion when he was wasted outside of a club in tokyo and called a female friend to pick him up from the club... not his best move.

2018 was the year of being criticized for being lazy on stage and allegedly having an attitude problem with fans during fan signs. was a bad look, but the instances causing the scandal were mainly a result of his poor mental health (depression and extreme anxiety) he was dealing with as a result of making his solo debut amidst quite a lot of online hate.

so yeah he made his solo debut in late 2017 and has had a steady career as a solo artist (he’s dropped four full albums and several promoted or non-promoted singles) and a model for endorsements and cfs (his biggest and longest-term deal has been with calvin klein, and that’s become a part of his Brand now i would say — the sexy, modern, all-american image of calvin klein fits his public image to a t) since then. he and bc have worked very hard to redeem his public image and he hasn’t had a scandal in like three years, during which time he’s had six number one singles, so he’s not public enemy number one anymore and his past scandals tend to be more of a footnote to people who aren’t actively his antis lmao

he also had a viral fancam in october 2020 that went viral for him being sexy and Very Into singing you know i’m no good by amy winehouse (because he hates himself </3)... sexy king who has internalized issues with being sexualized that he kinda has to deal with since that’s a big part of his image and also continuously gets rewarded in his career for his Public Self-Hatred Self-Flagellation... anyway

has also done a lot of work as a songwriter/producer since his solo debut for himself and others and that’s his main passion right now. this man does not leave his home studio a lot

doesn’t have much say in knight’s music but he’s fine with that since he’s pretty much over knight. would throw a party if knight disbanded today and considers other knight members co-workers over friends for the most part.

has major depressive disorder and an anxiety disorder (the former is diagnosed, the latter isn’t officially but ash knows something is up there, he just hasn’t seen anyone with the capacity to officially diagnose him) and insomnia and those took a really bad toll on him for a while and still do but he’s actively seeing a therapist again as of mid-2020 and is trying to handle those situations better

ummmmm, his main personal interest is music, he has an impulsive/rebellious streak for days, and he’s a hopeless romantic who believes his own personal search for love is hopeless

his main motivation is just ?? to find happiness that he doesn’t think he’s really felt in his adult life but he also doesn’t think he deserve it so :/ is also very driven by his desire to have a long-term impact on the world and to Mean Something

his biggest fears are heights, not meaning anything to anyone, and The Inevitability Of Oblivion

he hates being Known . he’s extremely private. doesn’t let anyone know about his relationships and tends to be weirdly private about his friendships as well. doesn’t think anything he does is anyone else’s business unless he personally makes it their business lmao

a hufflepuff who could have also been considered for gryffindor tbh but would choose hufflepuff

infj-t (”the advocate”) - “they tend to approach life with deep thoughtfulness and imagination. their inner vision, personal values, and a quiet, principled version of humanism guide them in all things.”

i used to call him neutral good but i honestly think he’s become chaotic good

melancholic

type 4w5 (”the bohemian” / “the free spirit”) - “four wing fives fear having no impact on the world. they may be reserved, but they seek recognition and admiration. they desire their own personal identity, and may retreat within themselves to discover who they really are. free spirits tend to defend themselves either by withdrawing from others or adapting characteristics of loved ones.”

that’s all really but i can talk about him for hours if anyone ever wants to know more about him

#&& there's nobody home | ooc #&& queued

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chrisevansgoodgirl · 6 years ago

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Hello I need more Natasha smut thanks

Anon! I’m sorry this took so long, like legit, it’s been a year. But I wanted something to write about and it just took me forever to come with something I love. The thought came to me one day as I was sad, dramatically on the floor instead of my bed, as I often like to be, lamenting over the fact that I am not a ballerina. Really, it’s a daily thing for me, I am constantly upset about it, so, of course, this followed.

i present to you soft!ballerina!reader with my fav three avengers.

So, I want you to picture a good world after endgame. Everyone’s alive, the avengers are a full swinging team. The o6 are on earth but have a lot more time on their hands bc the team has grown. Natasha has a lot of time to walk the streets, observe a good and peaceful world she helped create.

She sees you leaving your studio, dressed in pink tights, a black leotard, and combat boots. You have a huge dance bag slung over your shoulder, you’re clumsily pulling your hair out of a bun as you walk down the sidewalk. Nothing more comes from this sighting. She spares only a second to think about how much she did not miss the pain of ballet.

Two weeks later, she’s walking down the street again, it’s purely a coincidence that she sees you. You’re with a few friends, smiling and laughing, and she likes the sound. Soon, Natasha is walking past your studio every day at that time. She’s discovered that you leave Wednesdays and Fridays at that time, but earlier on Saturdays and Sundays and later on Mondays and Thursdays. Sometimes, you’re there on Tuesday, sometimes, you’re not.

You notice her around the 7th time, not that you hadn’t noticed her, she is stunning, of course. But this is when you start to make yourself a little more available, you linger on the sidewalk, pretend to text on your phone. Sometimes, she sits on a bench on the street, other times she’s at a tiny table on the patio of a small coffee shop you try not to frequent, as a coffee addict.

You’d always known who she was, but about a month in, your classmates start to notice her too. You worry they’re going to be bolder than you and steal her attention, especially since she’s never spoken to you or looked directly at you, as far as you knew.

So, one day, you walk across the street where she’s sitting at her table. She doesn’t even bat an eye, almost like she wanted this from you, or at least expected it. You sit across from her, grab a napkin from next to her coffee cup, write your number, then leave without a word.

She texts you two agonizing hours later and asks you to go out with her that night. It’s this fancy restaurant you would have had to save up for if it had been you paying. She’s there in a skintight, low cut black dress, you opted for a tiny pink dress that barely covers your ass. She’s sweet, asks you lots of questions, and you like to make her smile so you always answer in detail. You thought after her second glass of wine, she would get handsy or a little flirtier, she didn’t. She walks you home, says goodnight, and you have to wait four more days until she wants another date.

After that, she expresses interest in your dancing. You start showing up at the studio an hour early so she can come and watch you. Those days, she leaves when others show up, but never fails to reappear so she can walk you home.

One morning, she’s late, but you guys aren’t exactly…a thing, so it’s not within your rights to text and interrogate her on her whereabouts. You wait, preparing yourself for the possibility that she just might not show. She was still busy after all, not everyone was peaceful, the world still needed the avengers. But eventually, she walks through the door and you pull away from the barre to greet her.

She makes a disapproving sound and you scurry back. She directs you to continue dancing and makes her way to the wall across from you. There’s something darker in her eyes, you’ve never seen her like this so you don’t argue. Her eyes follow your legs closely, every once in awhile, glancing up to meet your curious stare. You’re finished with your combination but you don’t move.

“Turn,” she tells you, “to do the other side.”

You listen, but you’re not really sure why. Part of you worries you don’t even remember what you were just doing. She would remember though, she was a great dancer, and ballet is a hard habit to break, especially when it’s taught to you the way it was to Natasha. Not that she’s ever told you, but her history with ballet was common knowledge.

You startle when you feel her arms around your hips. She’s never really this touchy with you. After your third date, she had a cab drive you home, and she set you on her lap the whole drive and kissed you. But she was gentle with you, slow, and you didn’t want to push her.

She shushes you then her hands start to glide up. Your breath catches when her fingertips are directly under your breasts, but she merely skips your chest all together and touches your shoulders, running her nails down your arms.

You shiver, glancing back at her.

She uses two fingers to firmly push your jaw back. “Face the wall. Don’t make me tell you again.”

“I want to see you,” you feel inclined to say.

She slaps your ass, just a small swat, but hard enough to deliver her point. “You have to be a good girl then.”

You’re wet. Just like that. Her low voice in your ear, her gorgeous body pressed against your back, you can’t help yourself.

She slips the straps of your leotard down and rolls the fabric down to your waist. The cold studio instantly hardens your nipples.

You’re squirming, rubbing your thighs together impatiently, until she warns you to stop. But she’s taking forever, you wanted her since your first date. How does she expect you to be as slow as her? “Nat, someone could come in.”

“And?”

You’re not sure how to answer.

“So you want me to stop?”

“No,” you gasp. “No, please.”

She finally grabs your breasts and you shudder, melting into her completely. One hand is holding the barre, the other desperately squeezes her thigh.

Natasha tweaks your nipples painfully, you’re mewling and begging her not to stop. She figures you like it rough then, and she doesn’t stop. She wants you to slip, to press your thighs together or try to take, but you became aware of her game quickly.

You keep your mouth shut through all her teasing, at least until she tears your suit down to your hips. “Natasha, please.” You want to see her, kiss her, touch her.

She spins you around, lips crashing down on yours. She presses herself against you, walking you all the way to the wall. Her hand slides between your legs and you nearly fall to your knees.

She wraps an arm around the small of your back to keep that from happening.

“Can I touch you?”

She’s staring at you, eyes light and smirk wicked. “Of course.”

You tug the button of her pants undone and slide your hand down the front of her lace panties. She’s so wet, you just wish you could taste her. This was you, all you, you had this effect on her body and that made you feel powerful, beautiful.

The zipper of her jeans is scratching the back of your hand, but you don’t stop. You rub her clit just as fast as she does yours. You’re both moaning, gazes locked, frantically grinding against the other’s hand. Until you both come, which is almost simultaneous, which you’re thankful for because you lost all sense of reality with your orgasm.

Okay! Stop here if all you wanted was Natasha! I know it just says Natasha, but I can’t help myself. When I asked for filth, there was a certain trio x reader I didn’t get that I was really surprised not to get! So…I apologize, I’m a bi thot.

Holy fuck, that gif. he is fucking beautiful.

She’s nicer after that. Sometimes, she stops by your apartment before class and fucks you there instead. When she does accompany you to the studio now, it’s often to help you. She’s improved your arabesque tremendously.

Sometimes, she fucks you after she walks you home. In the seclusion of your apartment, Natasha tears your clothes off like they are nothing. You start wearing simple bodysuits then, the kind with the clasps, not the expensive leotards made for dance.

You like her, and you know she likes you back. But she doesn’t want to be exclusive. Says she’s just not wired that way, that she’ll let you down. You’re, in a way, relieved. You like Natasha and you didn’t want to lose her, but you also felt…young, too young to commit to only having sex with one person for the rest of your life.

What Natasha doesn’t know is that she isn’t the only Avenger that walks that street. You have classes there, not only the ballet kind. College was your time to truly explore all you could and though you were a little aimless as far as a major went, you wanted to dip your toes into everything. Mostly, art. Dance was expected, theatre was inevitable, but painting was new.

Steve Rogers likes art and you like Steve Rogers. Your campus was in the midst of art week, huge displays everywhere, when you met him. You sort of walked right into him because you were texting Nat and were completely distracted. He was stunning in person, you’d seen enough pictures, but even those couldn’t prepare you. You couldn’t walk away, there was just something pulling you back every time you thought you should.

You didn’t ask why he was there, you also didn’t pretend to not know who he was. There was just no time for that. You simply asked him what his favorite exhibit was. You also may have called him captain, but that’s whatever. Long story short, he was teaching you to draw at least three times a week in the evenings after you went home and changed to meet him at his favorite restaurant. He knew you danced, but of course, he never tried to see you at the studio, just made you promise you’d invite him to any shows you were in.

He likes to sit next to you, touch your forearm as you draw, kiss your neck to distract you, and pretend he needs to be that close to see what you’re doing. He’s your teacher after all, right? But that’s only now, in the beginning, it was totally friendly.

It changed almost three torturous months in. He went outside to take a call and you, like the absolute disaster you were, dropped your purse and his sketchbook. The book conveniently opened up to a page of you, but your curious fingers did the turning and found more. He had been drawing you since the day you met and you weren’t entirely sure how to feel about it. Flattered, grateful that clearly, he liked you back. But it was almost overwhelming, is this actually how he saw you? And frustrating! If he liked you, how could he just keep it bottled up?

But you had to go, your hour-and-a-half session every Tuesday was ending. It was time for your study group so you gathered your things in one arm, his things in the other, and headed out. He was just finishing his call, noticed you, and, if not a tad frantically, took the sketchbook and pencil case from you. Before he’d even hung up, you rolled onto your toes and kissed him. He was surprised, frozen, and couldn’t hang up the phone.

Not until you were both interrupted. “Are you kissing someone?!” Steve jerked back, turning away as he cleared his throat. “I will talk to you later, Tony,” he growled.

You had your fingers pressed to your lips, trying to smother your laugh.

He turned back to you with narrowed eyes as he shoved his phone in his pocket.

“I’m sorry—“

He didn’t believe you for a second. “Oh, you sound it.”

You bit your lip, eyes lowering. Maybe you shouldn’t have been so forward. He was old-fashioned.

He took one of your purse straps from your shoulder and slipped his sketchbook inside.

You turned up to him, eyebrows pulling together.

“You saw them, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t mean to—”

“Almost full, I need a new one anyway.”

He was giving you his sketchbook and you swore your heart was going to beat out of your chest.

He matched your grin with his own, one hand taking your hip to reel you in for another kiss. A real kiss, one where you were both moving against one another. He pinned you to the brick wall next to the exit and kissed you despite all the traffic going in and out. And you had stupidly thought he would be the kind of man who didn’t like being so public.

So, he likes being touchy. You like wearing skirts. It became a routine, buried in the back of the restaurant, hidden in a booth. Every time he’s praising you for what you’ve drawn, he likes to slide his hand up between your thighs and you like to not wear underwear, just to be helpful. He likes to make you come and then lick his fingers clean, eyes locked on yours the whole time.

Unlike Natasha, he comes to you at night. She is your sun and he is your moon. He is also irregular hours, frantic fucking, desperate and whispered words as you’re both coming down, gentle touches when he’s trying to leave you–which only works 1 out of every 5 times–and sweet promises that you would see him soon. If only because he is utterly and undeniably addicted to you.

However, he tells you the same, and again, you embrace it. He kisses you, tells you that you’re beautiful and amazing, but he can’t be your boyfriend. He’s not steady enough for you. You’re glad. You can’t hurt Steve, you can’t hurt Natasha, it’s the last thing you would ever want to do. You promise him you understand and kiss him until he’s not frowning anymore.

Then he rips off your clothes as he pushes you to your bedroom. He always starts on top, closing you in with his huge arms, pounding into you because you can take it, staring deep like he’s looking for something. You hold onto him because he likes that, likes when you claw hard enough to draw blood. He says the filthiest things to you, and sometimes, neither one of you can bear to break away until he just shuts his damn mouth. Sometimes, he takes advantage of that and you have to cancel both on Nat and skip class—it’s only happened three times though, and those times followed bad missions so you decided to just be glad that he wasn’t pushing you away.

He cuddles as long as he can, either until he’s restless, you need to go, or he has another job to do. He never talks to you about the other marks on your body, love bites or fingerprints not left by him, instead, he leaves the same right next to it. And you don’t tell him to stop because you really don’t want him to. Nat is quiet on that end as well—she can’t say anything, it would cross the boundaries she made herself.

You’re a perfectionist, it’s a terrible habit that leads to obsessing at times. There’s a little dance area you created, just a portable barre and five cheap, long mirrors stuck to the wall. Steve commented on it before, but nothing that caught your interest. Not until he’s in your apartment and has yet to get you naked, but he’s still looking at you with that look.

Natasha had been there earlier that morning, wouldn’t stop fingering you until you begged her to give you a break. When you finally regained use of your legs, you were still tired. You put on your bodysuit, your wrap skirt, and then you were on your way to the beginning of your day.

He likes that you’re a ballerina, likes to see how passionate you are about it. He can relate. He likes to see you in thin layers of light pink and he especially likes taking them off you. And today, he clearly appreciates the extra exposed skin, you’re still dressed for practice because you were being lazy when you got home.

You say nothing as you walk over to the wall. You start with a few stretches, slow and simple. You don’t look at him because that’s the best way to get what you want from Steve. If he thinks you’re not paying attention to him for a second when he wants you to be, he will gladly steal that attention.

He likes your legs, likes to watch them move, so you go through your favorite combination, a lot of tendus, rond de jambes, and developpés. After you complete the opposite side, you hear him walk toward you, but you continue. You bring your outer leg up to the barre, leaning away.

Steve catches you, pressing his chest to your back. His arms wrap tightly around you and you set your head to his shoulder to look up at him. One hand reaches out to your raised leg, his fingertips gliding up slowly until you shudder against him. He grips your thigh and pulls it back indelicately, other arm guiding you to face the barre.

He curls both hands around your waist, you feel heat pool between your legs at the sight. His hands are massive, a fact hard to ignore when he gets them on you. He bends you over the barre, one hand pressing against your back to keep you there. You feel him against your ass, hard and greedy as if you’ve been teasing him for hours.

He pulls the tie loose on your skirt and it slides to the floor. His fingers find the clasp against your pussy and you whimper his name, a plea to hurry the fuck up. But he won’t, you know that. “You’re so wet.”

“I want you.”

“Is that what all that was? You were putting on a show for me?”

“Did you like it?”

He unzips his pants then grabs your ass hard. “I did.”

You wait patiently as he moves his clothing out of the way. He takes your hips in both hands, the tip of his cock pressing against your pussy. As he begins to push into you, you grab the barre hard. Your legs are shaking until he’s pressed flush against your ass. It doesn’t matter how long it’s been, him inside of you always makes you feel so fucking full and complete.

He thrusts hard, the barre moves because you’re dragging it with you. He watches your breasts move in the mirror, hands touching your ass, your clit, or your clothed torso. When he’s close, he grabs you by the neck and pulls you up straight. “Watch your pussy, baby doll, watch how good you take my cock.”

You’re so fucked then, legs threatening to buckle but he always catches you so you don’t mind. At the end of the night, he carries you to your bed, kisses your face a dozen times, and promises to text you tomorrow.

If you weren’t such a freak, you’d stop there. But when have you ever done what you’re supposed to? You were in two relationships of absolute freedom. Until you were in three.

Carol found you in a record shop. She was more forward than her friends and wasted no time letting you know she was interested in you. That same night, she took you to some dive bar and you were wearing this tiny skirt and a slinky shirt. She locked you in a restroom stall where she draped your thighs over her shoulders and ate you out until you were crying and couldn’t stop shaking.

She introduces you to her best friend, Maria, but not the others and obviously, you’re thankful for that. The bar is your usual spot, where she sits you on her lap the entire night. She drinks but never too much, as she wants to take care of you completely, so she lets you drink. You don’t get wasted often, but it’s a comfort knowing no man will try to pick you up if you’re on her arm.

When it’s time for a change of scenery, it’s at her apartment. You figure it’s too risky to have three regular sexual partners knowing where you live, especially since Steve and Natasha sometimes came to you mindlessly, an apology text as a preface before they explain they weren’t thinking and just had to see you. It makes your heart beat faster so you never tell them to stop.

Carol, on the other hand, likes you to come to her. Which makes things just a little easier.

You’re not sure she’s ever seen you in a pair of pants, it’s merely an inconvenience for you both since you know she’s either going to end up with her fingers in your pussy or on her knees in front of you.

She knows about the ballet and likes to “help” you stretch. 🙄 You shouldn’t complain, she really does aid your flexibility, but it’s never with pure intentions. She’s started taking your clothes off before you even start your routine at this point, that’s always how it ends anyway. She starts at your feet, as she knows how obsessive you are about perfectly pointing your toes, then your hips, by the time you’re onto legs, you know that’s because she’s getting impatient.

On occasion when she brings out the strap, she loves laying you down, pressing one leg flat to the floor, lifting the other until your foot is on her shoulder and fucking you hard. And claims she needs to do it again because you can’t only stretch one side. Other times, she’ll have you face the wall, one leg as high up as you can get it, her arms wrapped right around you as she fucks you from behind. Sometimes, she’ll have you in bridge position where she eats your pussy until you literally can’t use your legs a second longer. Carol’s definitely creative when she gets you alone and undressed in her apartment.

She’s the one you’ve had to splurge on a lingerie collection for. God, she loves you in lace. She loves to see you so soft, she loves taking every scrap of clothing off of you, and then giving it to you so hard. She likes to tie you up; sometimes, wrists and ankles to each bedpost, sometimes, just your arms. It’s always a workout in itself to be with Carol, at least that’s what you tell yourself on the rare occasion she tempts you out of going to ballet.

The first night you stay at her apartment, she takes you out again. She had been on a mission for the past two weeks, as was Natasha, so you’d had a lot of time with Steve, but it was switched now and he was off on an assignment. Under your black leather skirt and old band tank top, you’re wearing a lacy pink one-piece. When you get back to her place, you push her onto the bed and undress for her.

You can tell by the look in her eye, you are so in for it. She grabs you, forces you onto the bed, facing down, and ties you up. She drapes herself over you, whispering in your ear about how sexy she finds you. She doesn’t push the lace aside, instead, she pushes into you with her strap, the lace added this weird sensation that you don’t necessarily dislike. But she doesn’t go too deep, in fear that she will damage her new favorite article of clothing, it’s little more than a tease. But you know better than to demand anything from her when she ties you up.

From there on out, since you decided to leave the pink suit at her place, every time she tells you to be at her place at a specific time, which is always before she’s set to be there, you’re meant to be wearing it and waiting for her. This was new for you, you’d never been with a partner so controlling, even Steve and Nat were just simple control freaks, dictating your orgasms, your positions, and your smart mouth.

But Carol was on a different level, a level without fear. Nat and Steve were holding back, Carol clearly wasn’t. Your favorite scene is when she gets home, lets you know, and tells you to meet her in the living room. She’s already undressed then, sitting on her couch and watching TV (😉😘, thanks anon (x)).

The first time, you aren’t really sure what she wants from you, so you get onto the floor, crawl your way on hands and knees to her pussy, and lick and suck until she’s coming. But she still says nothing, doesn’t touch you, so you do it again. You don’t stop until your jaw is sore and your thighs are slick with your own aching need.

You’re pouting and she’s smirking, so you know this is her game. You stand up, sit on the couch between her legs, and take her right hand. Easily, you slide your pussy onto two of her fingers, then you take her left hand and place it over your breast. You never lose your hold of her hands and you pretend like that doesn’t matter. You fuck her fingers with no assistance from her and keep her hand squeezing your breast, you even let your ass grind against her pussy, which is soaking. You’re loud and desperate, but when you glance at her and see she’s staring at you, you know you’ve won this round.

That doesn’t happen again, you’d simply shocked her by being so forward. Future scenarios require you to be a brat. You whine and demand that she pay you some attention, but she doesn’t, so you get mouthy, or you start to touch yourself and don’t listen when she tells you to stop. Later, she’ll spank you until your ass is sore, but that’s okay with you.

It’s not always just about sex. She can be the sweetest sometimes. The bar crowd teases her endlessly for it as she’s gone around telling everyone “her girl” is fucking smart and so talented. Maria’s the worst, but once, she took you aside and told you she doesn’t mean a word of it and she’s just happy you make Carol smile so freely.

She also visits you in between classes, gives you coffee or food, talks to you about the rest of your day. You ask her what she’s going to do, and sometimes, she’ll even tell you. But sometimes, she’s going on a mission and she’ll spare you the details because she knows you worry.

You know she sees the marks too, the ones left by Steve and Nat, but pretends she doesn’t because it’s just not the way this is going to be. They’re all busy and you have the kind of life that not one can fit into completely but that the three of them can. You’ve been working on that speech for the day they finally find out. You presume it will be your first show as all three have demanded to know when it is because nothing could keep them away.

lol, where did this even come from? Can I tell you who’s to blame? This beautiful gif maker, avengercarol. as soon as I saw the third gif, I knew what I was going to do. this post, like it, reblog it (x)

#natasha romanoff smut #steve rogers smut #carol danvers smut #steve rogers x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #carol danvers x reader #my writing

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bangtansfavwriter · 5 years ago

Text

🌷jungkook having a crush on you🌷

- jk and you vibed so fast that you became close friends very quickly (the chaotic duo that tested hyung line's last nerves when you were in your mischievous mood)

-you sorta became an honorary member of the maknae line and after you pulled a prank on jin that included a chocolate cake, marmite and liquorice and ended up with jin's face shrivelling so bad that it may have caused him his first wrinkles

(his revenge was to serve you kimchi bokkeumbap with kimchi that had gone bad, which resulted in the worst heartburn you ever had ("an eye for a eye, y/n" - you, drinking your 3rd mint tea that night: "fair enough"), you redeemed yourself by buying him hyaluronic acid lotion and his favourite strawberry cheesecake, jk just laughed his ass off to the misery jin and you went through and blackmailed jin with marmite whenever they bickered ("it will hit u when u least expect it, hyung" - "I can't believed I raised lucifer himself"))

-anyway, jk and you are always very playful together, and you laugh so much when you're with him bc of his antics

-he doesn't mind being extra goofy to make you laugh, it lifts his spirits as well

-hates to see you sad/upset, namjoon and jk once spoke about you, after namjoon asked him about your guys' friendship and for the first time in ages he was sure jungkook had deeper feelings for someone, as he said: "I don't mind making a fool out of myself, if it brings a smile on y/n's face. hyung, I know this is going to sound weird but sometimes I feel like it is my purpose to show y/n everything good and funny, this is something I wanna keep doing for a long time." (tbh namjoon teared up)

-your guys' fav pastimes were watching cartoons/animes and you had a fiery competition going on in any kind of jump and run games, especially for sonic (you once beat jk after a 4 hour session and he threw a dramatic fit until you made him hot chocolate and he finally calmed down)

-would show you tons of pics and vids of gureum and filmed every minute of your first encounter

-your personal photographer tbh, you two could go chill in a parking lot and he would still do the most aesthetic shots

-despite all the funny moments you two also had serious conversations together. moments like that were rare and mostly after 2am when you two shared secrets with each other you didn't dare to speak about at daytime, like your views on love where jungkook first thought of how much he wants to be your "loved one"

-has a folder with his favourite pics of you or places that remind him of you somehow, but he'd never tell you that

- tries to impress you quiet often, like the time you went for karaoke

your pick: new face

his pick: vision of love

you: ????????? bitch ?????? do i look like i can sing a mariah song????

jk: well....... i can..... 👀

you: i'll see you at the whistle notes

jk: i've made a huge mistake

-you're usually the first person to listen to his covers and he looooves seeing your reaction to it (but he's usually pretty nervous about it too)

- cannot concentrate for shit when you're watching him during dance practice, so hobi told you, in a nice way, to stay away from dance practice for the sake of bts and jk apologised like 12 times to everyone, he got better at focusing over time and you watched him once in a while... but he'd get v shy when he had to do hip thrusts and stuff, you'd just laugh it off but in reality you were just trying to hide you how much he actually affects you, especially during a choreo like that

-the boys teased him quite a lot about you and he'd get all whiny and say it's not like he had a crush on you or something

vmin: *laughing*

sope: *shaking their heads*

jin: oh reallyyy~~

namjoon: so you're ok with the fact y/n is on a date rn?

jungkook: WHAT

- so namjoon took out his phone and showed jk that you updated your story with some food pic where you could see a man's hand in the background, who was also tagged in the pic

namjoon: see? that guy also tagged y/n here in his pic

jk: .....

-the guys stopped teasing him the second they realized how upset jk actually was (he went completely silent, eyebrows furrowed), yoongi just stated the obvious: "our maknae is in love, huh", the boys smiled and jungkook nodded with a sad look on his face

-the next time you visited the guys jungkook was visibly flustered around you and would be just overwhelmed with the entire situation bc he wanted to know who that guy was, but he didn't know how to ask and neither did he want to intrude and what if you're taking it the wrong way and say that it's none of his business and suddenly he loses his best friend because of some stupid guy in a stupid picture and some stupid hypothetical date.... overthinking at its finest, as you can see...

-you didn't know why he became so awkward around you, the boys obviously knew but they couldn't say anything without risking jungkook completely losing his shit, but jungkook avoided you and left early when you were there and you were like "... why"...well the boys knew why but they couldn't say anything

-you tried talking to him but he tried to avoid you since he got so flustered around you that he'd stuttering, get embarrassed about it and then leave...

-you asked the boys about it, but they wouldn't say anything but tbh this was almost painful to watch for them bc they love their maknae but they knew this wasn't going anywhere.... so their eldest took the matter into his own hands and talked to you and asked you about the guy in your story.....

-shortly after that, the guys went to europe for vacation. jungkooks airport look was something for the goth look book once again, while the other guys looked bright and ready for their time off, and jin was like "oh here we go again" and once again jk helped out...

- the boys knew he kept himself busy the entire time after things got awkward with you, but they didn't exactly know what he was doing in his studio, only taehyung knew he was editing something

-so the boys were enjoying their time off and even got jungkook's mind off of you with some sightseeing and other leisure activities they had planned

-but at the end of the day, he thought of you and read your last messages over and over again. the last time you had texted was when you wished him a good time in europe and he thanked you. he sighed as he realized how your long texts with each other had turned into such short ones within 1 week

- yoongi: i cannot take this anymore, we need to do something about this

jin: i did. i invited y/n to join us.

the boys: ???

jin: all expenses on the company.

the boys: ?????????

-also, this was the first time you guys were separated, and it gave him the chance think about what he truly wants for you two, friendship or more.. he decided to confide in namjoon and jin about it and seek advice

namjoon: i'm sure y/n likes you too, and even if not, which I really doubt, at least you'll get it sorted out that way and carry on

jk: hyung, see that's the thing. if my feelings will not be reciprocated, i won't be able to continue a friendship... that's why I am so scared.

jin: y/n's coming here, tomorrow, jk, only for you, so i'm pretty sure your feelings will be reciprocated. just be honest about them.

jk: what do you mean y/n's gonna be here tomorrow?

jin: exactly that.

jk: with all due respect, hyung-nim, what the fuck

(-namjoon cackling in the background-)

-so jin explained how he asked you about joining them bc jk was so down and reassured jk that he didn't tell you anything about his feelings and that you solely come there bc you also had 2 weeks off and you wanted to spend time with him, even though jin had some convincing to do since you thought it might be awkward between jk and you

- jin: also, the supposed date on her story? that was just a night out among co-workers, so it was definitely not a date, I asked y/n about it

jk: ....... why didn't you tell me sooner? why are you telling me that a week later, when I'm in another country??

jin: remember the time you put actual fish oil in my bungeoppang?

jk:

jin: see, you did this and I'm still arranging you a romantic getaway, like the merciful god i am

jk: oh my god

jin: exactly

-jk texted you the same night and asked you where you are and said that jin told him everything. "maybe I should let the food war continue after all..", you thought and rolled your eyes. you sent jungkook a pic from the view you had from your hotel room, where you arrived a few hours prior, and he could clearly recognize that you were indeed there, as unbelievable as it was for him.

you: I can't believe jin ruined the surprise

jk: trust me, it still was a huge surprise for me

you: a good one, I hope?

jk: definitely... you know, i actually wanted to text you.

you: about the past week, i suppose?

jk: kinda. i'm going to send you something. it was done rather quickly, so have some mercy on me with that.. and please don't be mad at me

you: ok..? you're kind of worrying me here

jk: and y/n.. i won't say anything about it, it should speak for itself.. and please don't say anything about it until I see you tomorrow, ok?

you: alright..

jk: I'll see you at the café jin hyung told me about, depending on the answer you're gonna give me

you: I'll be there, no matter what

jk: ok, then, yellow shirt in case you're answer is positive, black shirt in any other case, how about that?

you: fine by me koo ☺️

jk: ok...... here goes nothing 🙇🏻‍♂️

-what he sent you was a gcf with your name as the title and what followed was a beautiful compilation of your favourite moments you and jungkook had shared, and some moments you weren't even aware of the fact that he was filming you..some scenes, for example: your guys' trip to lotte world, you giggling into the camera when turned the cam to both of you wearing bunny ears, you laughing your ass off while filming him dancing to cl's "hello bitches", you on the day you went to the planetarium together, the time you came over to his place with food after he was too exhausted to do anything after practice and you watched "spirited away" together, then you playing with gureum while he giggles behind the camera, you being bts' no 1 hype man during their concert preparations, some videos where you cheered for him during the days you two spent apart bc of award shows.... and at the end of the video there was a single picture of you two, where you smiled widely into the camera, while he looked at you with a shy smile on his face... and finally, you heard his voice saying the words which appeared on screen: "be my loved one".

- the next day, jungkook was waiting for you in the café opposite the church, where you would come to as well. he was nervous as hell and honestly he still wasn't sure if you're actually going to come there or if jin played a prank on him. he checked his texts again and again and just stared at the "read" sign beneath the text and the video he sent you and mentally slapped himself for telling you to keep your answer to yourself until you meet him in the café. he started overthinking again, to a point where he zoned out so much that he didn't even notice 6 guys with huge sunglasses and a suspicious lot of newspapers, sitting at another table what finally made him snap back into reality was the sound of someone pulling the chair at his table, which instantly made him turn around only to see you sitting down next to him, right at the moment when the bells started ringing. undoubtedly, the colour yellow has never made jungkook happier.

💕

epilogue:

-at the dorms with the boys after you left your company dinner party early-

jimin: why'd you come back so early?

you: because SOMEONE almost broke my co-workers hand during a handshake

jk: it's called asserting dominance, y/n, don't you ever listen to david attenborough sunbaenim?

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jenovacomplete · 4 years ago

Text

i just finished watching promare -- my thoughts are that yes, the plot is extremely obvious and uncomfortable n i understand being upset by and not wanting to see it. there are several extremely obvious allusions to the holocaust that are super obvious if you know what they're referencing and im a gentile but some parts (like the chromatech engine, the kray twist in the finale and all of herris' character) made me SUPER uncomfortable n sick

having said that, the character design of specifically the mad scientist girl who i forget the name of was awesome and i wish she was in the movie more </3 i like feral women. galolio literally saved the movie in terms of having anything interesting story wise at all. at the end lio does galo's usual pose and it's so cute... also galo freaking out over having been on fire and not over having kissed a man is great n i appreciate them not going for the cheap joke

the animation is STUNNING. like yell out loud, gasping stunning. i am probably gonna rb gifs of it now bc holy shit that was gorgeous and i need to look at every single fight scene for the rest of my life

my view of the handling of the burnish plotline is that it's just really really bad writers fumbling with a sensitive topic -- however, considering the plot developments later in bna, I do not doubt that there was a large amount of malicious intent and/or ignorance. the burnish are jewish. studio trigger should not be excused for this plot element nor should it be ignored; promare is a good movie, but it should be criticised for this extremely poorly thought out choice that continues to perpetuate negative stereotypes of jewish people

EDIT 2/09/20: so, i’ve thought it over! i’ve had about a week after watching the movie to sit with it and i’ve decided that it’s bad n that i only like the music, animation, and galolio. you aren’t going to see me post it again. i wanted to rb this post to make this addition, but that just felt like dragging up old discourse? and i want anyone who sees this to not have to dig through the notes for this addendum

anyway, promare is bad and i don’t recommend it unless you like mecha fights and don’t mind feeling uncomfortable and sick whenever the plot happens. promare very clearly uses jewish trauma for the sake of anime arsonist mecha movie and that’s really fucking bad. the only love i have for this movie are because of the fight scenes and some character designs, and i allowed that to cloud my judgement.

i apologise for any harm that my actions may have caused. i was ignorant -- it’s no excuse, but i hope it explains the fuck-up. i realise now that i was kinda rude to that anon, n that was on me -- when someone comes to you anonymously to say Hey This Thing Is Bad it means that you can’t really have a discussion with them, and considering the culture of this website n the fact that there are people who might be out to get me (another story) i lashed out when i shouldn’t have. my handling of this situation was inappropriate, and i hope we can all move on from this now

#speaking!#promare #antisemitism #discourse

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hawkinslibrary · 4 years ago

Note

i love hearing what you have to say about season 4!! i promise it’s not too long lol, anyway i have a question for you: what do you think the next season holds for mike & el? i’m a little worried tbh

ahhh thank you !! same rules apply: spoilers ahead, so please read no further and blacklist/filter out the ‘s4′, ‘st4′, ‘spoilers’ tags if you don’t want to see anything !!

i’m going to talk about them both as individuals and as a pair but first, i have to say that i don’t personally feel like you have to worry about them breaking up or anything again this season. i think s4 is really going to establish romantic jopper and once that happens, i don’t see them, mileven, or jancy not being endgame unless someone actually dies. which -- i’m not going to think about the possibility of anyone dying until i’m forced to confront it, so. this is fiction and it’s already unrealistic and i’m gonna take my ‘everyone survives, happiness all around, time to relax’ endings and go. anyway, i would love to add lumax to this list but i honestly think it could go either way depending on what happens in s4. that’s a different essay, though.

i tend to think that the most important dynamic on the show is the one between the whole group and i just don’t really see them spending much more time trying to develop romantic relationships outside of the ones set up since s1/2. maybe steve, robin, and will get love interests, maybe they decide to develop dustin and suzie more, maybe suzie is never even mentioned again, idk. but these will probably all be secondary -- as in less screen time, not less important than the main romances, but probably still less developed. unless it happens to be a new person added to the main cast. which, as of now, the only new mains are brett and priah who has gone from recurring to regular. so.

i think s3 showed how messy and complicated romantic relationships (or, really just relationships in general) can be. everyone was arguing, there was miscommunication all around, everyone thought they knew what was best, no one was seeing eye to eye. but when it comes down to it, they would do anything for each other. they understand each other better than anyone else ever could. i can’t see them spending another season on breakups and romance drama after the ending of s3.

mike and el have already been separated once before. this time, mike knows for sure that she’s alive and that’s she’s with the byers. this time, el won’t be kept completely isolated away from everyone else. they’ve made plans to meet for the holidays. they can still call and talk to each other as much as they want. i’m hoping they handle being separated this time better than they did in s2. i don’t want mike to be moping and i don’t want el to spend a lot of the season thinking about how much she misses him. in fact, i think in their case that some distance could be good for them. the same for jancy and jopper, too, honestly. it’ll be nice to see them existing outside of these relationships while still acknowledging how important they are.

as far as i know, the byers and el stuff has not started filming yet so all there is to speculate on are rumors, the audition tapes, and logical guesses about where the story goes after s3. el obviously moves away with the byers. we still don’t know where. she’ll still be mourning hopper and trying to figure out life without her powers. and, of course, she’ll be in a long distance relationship with mike. i think she’ll be having a hard time and she’ll wish that mike was around, but she’ll realize she’s got a pretty good support system around her now with the byers, too. i’m very, very excited for more joyce and el content particularly, but there’s gotta be some great scenes with her and will and jonathan as well.

there’s only one audition tape that i can confidently tie into the byers + el plot(s?) and it’s the queen bee/mean girl character ‘angela’. if we’re running with the whole ‘there may be some truth to the audition vids’ thing, then this one teases that el will be going to school and that angela will be bullying her. this is something she would probably want to talk about with mike (b i g troy s1 vibes) but i don’t know if she actually would ? so this is probably more a thing that el and will could bond over or that she could talk about with joyce or maybe jonathan. i do think there will be at least a few calls between the two of them before the action really hits and the whole group is (hopefully...) reunited.

so, el -- at least in the beginning of s4 -- will be going to school where ‘angela’ bullies her, forming a bond with joyce + will + jonathan and becoming part of the family, mourning hopper (+ hopefully having conversations about him + his past with joyce), missing her friends back in hawkins, continuing to learn how to navigate life without her powers, and trying to maintain a long distance relationship with mike.

mike... i’ve been seeing some wild theories about him today but they aren’t really that far-fetched i think. first, going back to the audition tapes, the ‘eddie’ audition i saw makes it seem like mike is going to be part of the hellfire club with dustin. i’ve recently learned that there’s another version of the scene where ‘eddie’ is only talking to dustin and mike might not be a part of the club after all. if he isn’t part of the club, then the basketball v. hellfire, jocks v. nerds thing turns into lucas v. dustin and mike’s probably there just caught in the middle while max is off distancing herself from everyone.

at this point, i really want mike and max to become good friends. i think the end of s3 gave them the perfect opportunity. s4 max has s2 mike vibes. it’s not the same situation at all, but he knows kinda what she’s feeling and they could connect through that + the fact that they’ll both be missing el. i also just really want... some wheeler siblings content. i’m hopeful that s4 gives us good nancy and mike scenes bc there’s no reason not to give us good nancy and mike scenes (+holly!). however...

while there’s proof that gaten and sadie and natalia and priah have all been filming since production restarted, and while i have reason to believe that caleb has been filming a lot inside/at the studio recently... there’s no evidence that finn has been on set. there’s none for maya and joe, either, but people have said that finn isn’t even in atlanta right now. maybe he is and maybe he just hasn’t been seen and maybe he’ll pop back up tomorrow. or, maybe he already filmed whatever he needed to film for hawkins before production stopped.

the wild theory that’s popped up today is that everything gets to be too much for him in hawkins and he just... hops on a train to go visit el + the byers. i don’t know if i buy it, but it is interesting to note that he was sitting with them at the table read. and since we can guess that steve and robin will still be working at the video store, robin and nancy will be investigating pennhurst together, lucas and max may have some angst, joyce and murray are probably teaming up for the finding/saving hopper plot, and el is going to bond with will and jonathan, it seems like the order might mean a little something. i’d even bet that dustin and erica have scenes with them bonding over d&d.

now this theory pretty much only exists because no one’s seen finn on set and one of the paps posted some pics of some trains. there’s also always theories about how there will be issues at home with the wheeler fam and if that’s going to happen, what better time than in s4 when all of his friends are pulling away and el’s gone again. so if he is missing el (and will) that much, and if he has any reason to worry about her and how she’s doing, or if the party becoming distant and issues at home are weighing on him and he feels like he needs to get away, he’s absolutely the type to venture off on a train by himself. i don’t know how it would work since he’s definitely supposed to still be in school and his friends/nancy at least would notice he’s gone, but.. it’s fun to think about and we’ve got zero actual content to go off of right now.

another way i could see mike’s plot going is that he’s the one trying to keep the party together this season. playing mediator with lucas and dustin, becoming better friends with max, being the connection between the hawkins plot and the byers plot (along with nancy).

there was also talk of him joining the track team bc the track has been set up with hawkins high colors for filming. but mike ‘this isn’t a stupid sports game’ wheeler? i don’t think so... basically, no one knows at the moment what’s happening with mike wheeler in s4 lol.

s4 mike is just like s4 byers fam -- a complete mystery to me currently. i don’t personally think that he’ll be leaving school and hopping on a train to visit el. i think he’ll be a part of the hellfire club with dustin, or that he won’t and instead will be attempting to keep the party from completely disbanding. i hope that we get wheeler siblings scenes and that max and mike have a breakthrough and become better friends. i also feel like he’ll be having some complicated feelings about hopper, the last interaction they had, etc. and, again, the whole long distance thing with el.

so... mike and el broke up in s3. it was messy. but then they reconciled. and then hopper “died”. s3 ended with them at this weird place where she’s heard him say that he loves her and she’s told him that she loves him back. things are a little awkward in the scene bc everything has changed at this point, but a kiss, an ‘i love you’, planning to meet up on the holidays, and promising to call frequently all sounds like they’re back together and going to try making the long distance thing work to me.

i think they’ll be together when s4 starts. i think that we’ll probably only see them talking on the phone or their radios for the first few eps. maybe we’ll see flashbacks or something to them being together on the holidays. the distance might be hard and they’re definitely going to be missing each other. like... el doesn’t have mike or hopper with her now and i’m thinking the party is going to be drifting apart, plus they’re both probably going to have other personal issues that have nothing to do with each other or the party. maybe they’ll be experiencing some emotional distancing of their own while dealing with the aftermath of hopper’s “death”, the move, and whatever’s going on with them at home and at school. i think that once they reunite (probably not until the last half of the season), they’re likely to be stronger than ever.

now, onto personal theories that have zero basis. for some reason, i can’t get it out of my head that this season might dive into psychological horror a little bit ? like a greatest fears type of thing ?? and i keep thinking about brenner popping back up and using the people el loves to get to her or something and 👀👀

#this took forever to write and it's so long and for WHAT #when i tell you i've been typing and deleting and typing and deleting and typing again all day #anyway.... a l l of this is speculation pretty much bc the byers/el haven't even started filming yet #and there's no info on mike as of now #these don't even really touch on what could happen at the end of the season #bc i just have... no idea what's really happening or how it could possibly end #there was that whole thing about s5 being the part 2 of s4 so like...#what if we don't even get the reunions this season lol #nah i have to believe that everyone will be back together by the end #answered #s4 #st4 #spoilers #thank you for the question 💖 !!#sorry it's basically nonsense on my part though #me @ me: how can you ramble so much but say so little #Anonymous #idk if this even makes any sense but it's 2 am now and i've been staring at it forever so

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kn1feinthec0ffee · 5 years ago

Text

in too deep (part 5) - jules

jules x reader

TW: drugging

warnings: beating, homophobia, threat of death, i think that’s pretty much it??

notes: ooooohhh we’re getting closer to the end! not that i’m excited for this to end, but i’m just excited for you guys to see it

i really hope that me putting homophobia in this story doesn’t make you guys think i’m homophobic bc that’s the farthest thing from true. since i changed the gender of the mickey stand-in, i felt like it might be more interesting to add another dynamic into the story so it wasn’t just a word for word copy of the original except with a girl, bc that seems really one-dimensional to me. i feel like i need to put one of those things they have in movie credits like “the views in this film in no way reflect the views of the studio that produced it” kinda thing

also i think this may be my favorite part that i’ve written, bc if you didn’t notice, i’ve never left the reader’s perspective during the whole thing, so i had to improv a bit during the parts of the movie we didn’t get to see with mickey, and maybe i’m just a lil proud of myself :’)

******************************

for the first time since you came up with your brilliant plan to siphon the gas, you actually felt a glimmer of hope. jules was smart, she’d surely find a way out of the house; and she was damn loyal, too, so you knew there was no chance she’d leave you behind.

sadly all those hopes were dashed when you heard the basement door creak open again.

fuck, this whole plan was dependent on the fact that no one else came downstairs! your hands clammed up, your heart rate quickening as footsteps descended the stairs, stopping dead in their tracks once they reached the bottom.

“where the hell’d that little bitch go?” george roared, scanning every nook and cranny in the basement to see if jules was hiding anywhere. “answer me!”

you stayed silent, more out of fear than some sort of strategy. you quickly realized this was the wrong decision as george viciously backhanded you across the face. your head whipped to the side, eyes blinking back into focus from the impact. you felt something sticky on your lips and realized it was blood.

“you’re so angry,” you groaned. “why? just ‘cause you’re shooting blanks?” you pouted in mock sympathy. this sudden boost of confidence seemed to be a mistake as you saw george’s expression shift into a dangerously content one.

“i’m gonna rip your fuckin’ heart out.” your face dropped as he spoke. “i understand you not wantin’ to tell me where she is. in fact, if i were in your position i suppose i’d do the same. but god almighty i’m gonna watch ya’ die. i’m gonna hurt ya’.”

you were stunned into silence but you decided saying something, anything, would be better than nothing. “she’s gone, man. you just need to give it up.”

this seemed to strike a nerve in him. he turned towards you again and delivered another swift slap, knocking the wind out of you. he smacked you again, the back of your head knocking into the pole and causing your consciousness to fade for a moment.

“you think i’m full of hot air, don’t you? only good on roughin’ you up?” he asked rhetorically. “you know i worked as a door-to-door salesman for a few years? learned a lot, but the most important thing i learned was how to read people. and at the end of the day, you’re just an open book, sweetheart.”

the name sounded like poison dripping from his lips. it made you sick, that name belonged to jules.

“i know your type, believe you me, i’ve seen quite a few in my time. you see, you like to think you’re tough, strong, resilient, but at the end of the day, you just value her life above yours.” he laughed to himself. “am i right?”

he chuckled again when you didn’t answer. “that’s alright, you don’t have to answer, i know i’m right. well, you people are more loyal than i thought. guess i gotta give credit where credit’s due.”

“fuck you.” you spat. “don’t fucking talk about her like that.” he stood up again, this time grabbing something from a shelf before making his way back to you.

“alright, no more pussyfootin’ around, time to get down to business.” he revealed the knife, positioning it under your ear as he prepared to slice it off.

“sheisn’tgoingtothecops!” you breathed out quickly, hoping he’d let you keep both ears with the statement.

“what? what’d you say?” he seemed caught of guard by the sudden admission, backing off of you.

“not yet, anyway.” you took a moment to catch your breath. “i told her to wait. yeah, we got a little meet up spot. now if i don’t show up there in an hour or so, then yeah, cops galore. you’re fucked, buddy. but, if i do show up, we just continue on our way like none of this happened.”

you took another shaky breath before you continued. “if we’re being honest here, i don’t want the cops involved any more than you do. y’know, the whole ‘not gainfully employed’ thing? the cops aren’t a huge fan of that one.”

george seemed to take this into consideration, nodding quietly to himself. “what about sweetiepie?”

“her? i don’t give a fuck about her, she’s the whole reason i’m in this mess.” you winked at her, hoping she’d understand the message.

george snapped the blade shut, producing the key from to the cuffs from his jacket pocket.

------------------------------

“any last words for this son of a bitch?” george asked gloria as he trained the pistol on you.

“oh, i do wish you’d handled things differently. we could’ve had somethin’ beautiful here.” she smiled sadly, mourning what could’ve been.

“i’ll see you in hell,” george mumbled as he opened the door for you. you stepped into the doorway, only to stop dead in your tracks when you heard your girlfriend’s voice. shit.

“stop, don’t kill her!” jules shouted from the top of the steps, baby doll in hand. “i will smash it!” she held it over the railing, dangling precariously above the hardwood flooring beneath.

“whew, that was close.” george laughed, closing the door behind you. “unhand my baby!” gloria whined.

“alright, missy, calm down. no one’s gonna get hurt.” he kept the gun aimed at your head, but gloria quickly pried it out of his hands and took a shot at jules. she crouched to shield herself from the bullet that thankfully missed, but in doing so let go of the baby that plummeted to the floor, shattering into hundreds of pieces.

“get your ass down here or i’ll blow her brains out!” george shouted gruffly as jules descended the staircase. she ran to you, hugging you close and helping you to stand on your injured leg.

gloria rushed out of the room, bloody pieces of ceramic in hand as george turned back to you. “look what you gone and did. what did i do to deserve you two?”

------------------------------

“cooking’s a zen art for my dear gloria. i’ve found there’s a method to it: the more upset she is, the bigger the dish it takes to pull her out.” george explained. “needless to say, i think the two of you just summoned up a banquet.”

the two of you had been crudely duct-taped to some chairs in the dining room, forced to listen to the stuffy dialogue between the husband and wife. “why? why do you keep her down there?” jules asked.

“it’s not what you think.” he looked over his shoulder to make sure she wasn’t listening. “my gloria, she’s always wanted a child. unfortunately, the good lord did not have that in his plans for us. so, i had to take matters into my own hands.”

“oh, so you kidnapped her.” jules stated bluntly. george glared at her, but continued his explanation.

“as you get older, things get... complicated, and i swear to god i had no ill intentions. i just wanted to make my wife happy.” he smiled. “and she was for a bit, until she started to remind her of what she couldn’t have. she asked me to make her go away, but i couldn’t bring myself do that, so the basement is our compromise.”

“dinner is served!” gloria announced, wheeling in a cart full of dishes of shepherd’s pie. she placed one on everyone’s plate before she sat down. they quickly said grace before digging into their food.

“so are you guys gonna kill us or...? what’s the deal?” jules asked matter-of-factly. you wanted to nudge her shoulder and ask her what in the hell made her so bold, but you didn’t want to cause a scene.

“george, you didn’t tell them?” gloria asked confusedly. “i wanted to make ‘em squirm a bit,” he smirked.

“t-tell us what?” you cursed yourself for stuttering but you couldn’t help it, it came out when you were anxious.

“we’re not gonna kill you.” george mumbled, almost sounding disappointed. “i said we’re not gonna kill ‘ya, what are you deaf?” you stifled a grin at jules, not wanting to change their decision to set you free. “we’ve decided that, despite your piss-poor behavior, the logistics of it just don’t make no sense for us.”

“sooner or later someone’s gonna come lookin’ for you two. now, i can hide a body like the easter bunny hides an egg, but the two of you have been sweatin’, spittin’, and pissin’ all over this place.” he paused to take a sip of his drink. “anywho, i’m bound to miss a spot. i figure we have a better chance of hitting the road. we’ll give it 48 hours, tip off the police, they’ll come by and pick ya’ up. i reckon you’ll do some time for whatever the hell you two did, but at least you’ll still be drawing breath. so congratulations, you should be thankful. you just won the damn lottery.”

jules spared a glance at you as if to say, what now? “take your time eatin’ you got another couple days in those chairs.” george muttered as he took another bite of his meal.

screw it, you thought. we’re hungry and going to jail in the next two days, what harm could a nice meal do? you both picked up your forks and knives and tucked in to the plate in front of you. you nearly let out a moan in satisfaction as the food hit your tongue. you scooped up more greedily as you had no clue if and when the next time you’d get fed would be.

“wait,” jules swallowed the food in her mouth. “what’s gonna happen to her?” gloria glanced over to george, waiting for the answer to the question as well.

“well, i’m sure they’ll put her some place nice. these orphanages, i hear they’re like five-star resorts.” george answered.

“does that upset you?” gloria turned to jules, a smile of mock empathy on her face. “anything’s better than down there.” jules mumbled.

“you got a heart of gold, jules. is your full name julia?” jules nodded in response. “my mother’s name was julia. she had a good heart, too, you remind me of her.”

“she died of cancer when i was real little. it was a slow, painful process, but i was with her every step of the way!” she grinned as her husband blew her a kiss. “the day before she died, she told me to look in the closet, that i’d find a special surprise for me in there. it was a package, wrapped up nice and pretty, with a tiny card with my name on it. she insisted i opened it, so i wiped away my tears, tore open the paper and there it was. a doll.”

everything stilled. every sound, the scraping of cutlery on the plate, the sound of everyone breathing, even the breeze blowing through the window decided this was a nice time to take a break.

“she said it was a magic doll,” she continued. “that no matter how sad i became, and believe me, i became very sad, i’d always have him with me. my ethan.”

your gut instincts finally kicked in as you spat out the food that was in your mouth, the gross pile of chewed up beef and potatoes looking oddly blurry to you. jules looked equally as mortified, probably even more since she was the one who brought about the end of the magic doll.

“and she was right; he was magical. and you took him away from me.” she grinned her creepy stepford wife grin once more. jules mumbled something but everything sounded miles away from you as your head swam.

“wha-what is this?” you slurred, the bright colors of the table morphing into one another.

“this is a drug overdose, y/n.” he chuckled when you sluggishly turned your head towards him. “i know, i know, i fibbed about lettin’ you live, but see, you had a veritable pharmacy in that bag of yours. you two just munched down enough pills to put a bull to bed,” his voice muffled into indiscernible nonsense, though you knew he was still speaking.

“f-fuck you,” jules managed, still keeping her head up. you, on the other hand, were slumped over, teetering on the edge of unconsciousness.

george got up from his seat, pulling your head up by your hair. “not so tough now, are ya’?” he jested.

jules muttered something in your defense, but as soon as your head dropped, you were down for the count; just missing the hopeful ring of the doorbell, possibly signaling you might live to see another day.

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i should probably put a link to previous parts at the top but i have no clue how to do that lol

tags: @emmyrosee @flowers-in-your-hayr @willyourecognisemee @bill-skarsgard-owns-my-ass

#jules #jules x reader #jules oneshot #jules imagine #jules fanfiction #jules fanfic #jules fic #jules villains #villains #villains 2019 #maika monroe #maika monroe character #my writing

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thedeaditeslayer · 5 years ago

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Running Time Restored Interview: 1997 Josh Becker and Bruce Campbell Indie Gets a New Life in 2K.

You can read the full interview on the upcoming release With Josh Becker, Bruce Campbell, and Don May Jr. from Diabolik Magazine below.

In 1995 on New Year’s Eve, Josh Becker had an idea. Born out of a session pondering Alfred Hitchcock’s legendary, true crime classic, Rope, he decided that he was going to improve upon the master of suspense’s legendary concept of shooting a film in real time. A daunting task but Becker was up to the challenge.

What resulted was perhaps one of the most ambitious efforts to ever grace the silver screen, Running Time. This neo-noir thriller about a heist gone wrong and a small-time criminal who rekindles his love affair with his high-school sweetheart was a hidden gem that didn’t get the recognition that it deserved. Written expressly for Becker’s childhood friend and Super 8 cohort, Bruce Campbell, the pair were once again, doing gonzo-style filmmaking just like when they were growing up in Michigan with the likes of Sam Raimi and Rob Tapert.

Josh Becker was and is an adventurous soul who does things his way, just like the director gods of old. When I think of his work, the names of John Ford, William Wyler and John Huston readily spring to mind. There is something admirable about his driven determination that was the heart and soul of this black and white throwback to another era which is ultimately endearing. Yes, I have a special place in my heart for Running Time because it is honest and not filled with “tentpole” tendencies. At the core of it is the written word. The end result is one of the most overlooked masterpieces of both Becker’s and Campbell’s careers.

What is truly amazing is that this flick was shot in two weeks and that everyone went home early. It was like having a 9 to 5 job. No 18-hour-days, just fast, efficient, run and gun style filmmaking that resulted in a production that could stand toe to toe with noir classics from a bygone era like The Petrified Forest and Desperate Hours.

Prior to Running Time, Bruce was known predominantly for his work in the horror and science fiction genres which can sometimes be limiting for an actor. Becker gave him an incredible script to work with that really showcased his range as a thespian. Behind the smart-ass quips and bravado lies a talented individual who takes his craft seriously. He is capable of creating complex characters and he is most assuredly fit to be a romantic lead.

I had the chance to sit down with the major players in the restoration of Running Time (Josh Becker, Bruce Campbell, Don May, Jr. and Gerry Kissell) to reminisce about the journey of this film from its humble beginnings to preserving this indie classic for future generations.

The Director and His Muse

Diabolique: Bruce, I have to start off by telling you that Running Time is my favorite out of all of your films.

Bruce Campbell: It’s a cool, little flick. Too bad it sort of escaped, it wasn’t released as the old joke goes.

Diabolique: What I like so much about it is the neo-noir aspect. It’s a throwback to the 40’s and 50’s. In Josh’s book, Rushes, he talks about how he convinced you to be in the film. You weren’t getting paid and you invested in it. What was his pitch, how did he sell the concept to you?

BC: The pitch was that it was NOT McHale’s Navy. I just spent 11 weeks in Mexico just sort of bullshitting our way through that film where we would make up our lines of dialogue because there was nothing written for us. In the script it would say things like, “McHale and his guys get off the boat,” “McHale and his men go to Cuba.” Which means they hadn’t thought anything up for you. I did it because I liked the show as a kid. It was a very popular thing; it was from Universal. It made sense at the time. It was just a case of when something is underwritten, the problem that it causes actors. I had just come off of that, and Running Time was very ambitious, low budget it was meant to be this conceit of being done in one shot so it was cinematic. So, I was like, okay, yeah. It was like the anti-studio movie, small crew, fast moving and yet no money. Basically, I invested the money that I was paid back into the movie in order for them to make it. It was definitely for a love of the movie type deal.

Josh Becker: I’ve known Bruce since we were twelve and I’d seen him in a number of plays. I knew that he had a much bigger range as an actor than he’d had a chance to show at that point. Plus, he’s a pleasure to work with. Once I pitched him the idea, he was all for it, partially because the long takes are a way for an actor to really show their ability.

Diabolique: Thinking about your filmography, Bruce, you haven’t played a traditional romantic lead. Do you see Running Time as a love story of sorts?

BC: What’s funny is Josh had Carl come back. In a proper film noir, he would have gone, you would have heard the tires squeal and she would be sitting there crying and the credits would roll and that would be it. It would be bleak, but Josh deep down is a sentimentalist and I think I am too. We had no issue with the happy ending. We wanted to make the audiences think for quite a long period of time that it’s going to be a sad ending. She packs her bag and then she unpacks it. The whole thing is quite an extended piece but I thought it was well worth playing just to kind of throw a little wrinkle in it. Maybe even in a criminal story you can have a happy ending.

Diabolique: In terms of the storyline, Josh, we all know that Rope was the blueprint for Running Time. You hadn’t made a film in 7 years. What was it about that production that captured your imagination besides the challenge of the “long take”?

JB: Part of my inspiration was simply getting another feature film made after seven years of working in television, which was never my goal. But as I thought about Rope, I wondered why the continuous, real-time concept didn’t really have any impact on the story. Then it occurred to me that there was no time element involved. Two young men—ostensibly Leopold and Loeb—have killed another young man for the fun of it, put the body in a chest, then invited people over for a party, including a cop. Well, if the chest was spring loaded and had a timer on it so that at some point it would pop open and reveal the corpse, that would be a time element. So, I thought, how do you use the real time technique and add a ticking clock? The first story that came to mind was a heist which generally has a time element—we’ve got to get the money and get out of here before we’re caught.

Diabolique: Running Time was shot in sequence like a play. Did it pose any challenges for you as an actor?

BC: I liked what Josh was trying to do. These long uninterrupted takes from an actor’s point of view, you know stuff can get really choppy these days. My complaint from Burn Notice is they wouldn’t let a full sentence stay on camera; they would have to cut away to somebody else. It felt like they had to keep cutting, cutting and cutting. This movie was no cutting for like ten minutes at a time. It’s great from an actor’s perspective because you can feel the juices flowing. It’s like a play. You can work on the pacing; you can have something build over a period of time and minutes to play out in literally real time. It’s a real time crime drama. I liked it conceptually and it was challenging. There was a fair amount of dialogue because my guy, Carl is calling the shots. I thought it was a good premise. Guy gets out of prison turns right around and robs the prison because he knows how the prison laundry system works. I thought that was pretty sound. I am always sympathetic for the low budget independent movie. I always will be.

Diabolique: Were there any other films that influenced you and your writing partner, Peter Choi? The entire concept is very noir and the desperate situation that Carl finds himself in is reminiscent of any number of films from the 1940s.

JB: My main inspiration was Straight Time with Dustin Hoffman, an overlooked movie from 1978. And though I didn’t think of it at the time, several folks brought up Joseph Lewis’s Gun Crazy after it came out, and I do see that. The film has one long take in it during a bank robbery, and even though the camera stays in the backseat of a car, it has that same feeling of a real time event.

Diabolique: I know you are a fan of classic movies, Bruce and in a sense Running Time reminds me of Desperate Hours or The Petrified Forest especially when the robbery is botched and the situation is escalating in the enclosed office. Did you find any inspiration from the noir genre for your portrayal of Carl?

BC: No, but the classic tough guys were always awesome. We loved them all, Bogart and Robert Mitchum…the fact that Josh shot the film in black and white was perfect. Because it really helped lend itself to a look of that time period when Jack Palance was a leading man.

Diabolique: In your book Rushes, you talked about your decision to shoot in 16 mm Kodak ASA 64 black and white stock. You get sharper images due to the finer grain of the film, but did that pose any problems in terms of showcasing your work at that time since most people weren’t shooting in black and white?

JB: I didn’t think of it regarding showcasing my work. I thought it was appropriate for the subject matter and that it would be visually striking. Also, moving the camera from inside to outside in color posed the problem of adding or removing filters which would not be an issue with black and white.

Diabolique: You shot over a period of 10 days which was unheard of even back in the 90’s. How were you able to keep things moving along?

JB: It was based on pre-planning. I knew exactly what I wanted. We rehearsed the film and the actors were all very comfortable with the dialogue. Then it was just an issue of getting the complicated camera moves in regard to the actor’s blocking to work right, and that didn’t turn out to be all that difficult.

Diabolique: As an actor, did you enjoy working on an accelerated timetable?

BC: It was exciting to do and so different. The toughest thing was the technical demands. It wasn’t like there were explosions and stuff like that. But in order to do blocking inside of an apartment, the camera is moving in circles, well, the crew had to move every object behind the camera before it got there and then had to put it back before the camera saw it again. So, there was a lot of voodoo, a lot of magic. We would rehearse and rehearse and rehearse and we could never get it right. Finally, we were like fuck it. Let’s just start shooting because everyone gets a little more alert when you shoot. That did it. That allowed us to conquer the impossible. After 3 or 4 takes if we got it, we were done even if it was 10:30 in the morning. I don’t think we spent more than two thirds of a day getting that particular shot. The end result is cool. I’ve seen the cleaned-up version without all the scratches and the dust marks. You can’t even tell what year it is. It almost seems like its videotape transferred like those teledramas of the 60’s that were done on TV. There were moments in the film that weren’t perfect, and that’s okay.

Diabolique: When I revisited Running Time recently, I was impressed with how well it holds up because some efforts don’t. With the 2K restoration, Bruce, this will give your fans a chance to see it. For some, it might be their first time. Do you have a scene that you are particularly fond of?

BC: There’s some scenes that are fun to do. After I get shot, I am in Janie’s apartment and she’s trying to put me together, that fainting on the toilet while she’s trying to patch me together it felt kind of real, playing shot and being delirious. Stuff like that. Just fun to be able to take the moment to do it.

Diabolique: Josh, do you feel shooting in black and white made the 2K restoration more challenging?

JB: Slow speed black and white film stock has a lot of silver in it which creates an inordinate amount of static electricity. When I did the initial film transfer back in 1997, the negative kept getting covered with dust, causing us to have to stop and clean the film every 30-60 minutes. Since the transfer was $375 an hour—in 1997 dollars—I could only stop so many times before it became financially prohibitive. Dust on a black and white negative shows up as white dots. Using the newest technology, Don May was able to remove all of the dust digitally. Therefore, the film has never looked as good as it does now.

Diabolique: What excites you the most about Running Time getting restored, Bruce?

BC: I am always happy when something gets re-released which means in this case, it gets preserved. It will look fantastic in 2K. That’s why with all these reissues fans are like, “Why should we care?” Like well, if you care about preservation, this means it will be the latest version of a movie that is fairly obscure. Sometimes a movie can die on the vine because no one will pay the money to keep it current. Now, we can show the sucker, hopefully, anywhere.

Diabolique: Josh, do you have any plans to showcase Running Time once the restoration is completed? This is a great film that fans should definitely see.

JB: We have no plans at the moment, but then the film isn’t out yet. When it’s done, we’ll see what happens.

Breathing New Life into Running Time: The Art of Restoration

Don May, Jr. along with Jerry Chandler and Charles Fiedler created Synapse Films in 1997. Known for their work in preserving unique genre classics, May had previously collaborated with Josh Becker when his company restored the director’s 1985 production, Thou Shalt Not Kill…Except.

Gerry Kissell was the official artist on Running Time and will be reprising his role for the 2K restoration. He has been friends with Josh since the Freaky Film Festival where he and Bruce premiered the film on the University of Illinois campus.

Both gentlemen were kind enough to take time out of their busy schedules to talk to us.

Diabolique: Were you able to obtain the original negative for Running Time?

Don May, Jr: Yes, thankfully. Josh Becker is a true movie fan and loves the filmmaking process, so we were fortunate to work with him. He kept everything stored properly in a climate-controlled vault, as a man who cares about his movies should.

Diabolique: Can you talk about the scanning process for 2K?

DMJ: The 16mm negative was separated into A/B rolls, so we had to scan a lot of reels separately at Prasad in Burbank, CA. Luckily, because of the actual nature of the “one-take” aesthetic Josh utilized, there were only a total of about 30 cuts in the entire film… hidden in editing, of course. So, we basically scanned the 30 separate shots, and then assembled them digitally using DaVinci Resolve. We had to be VERY careful the way we put the 30 cuts back together, making sure the shots were frame accurate and of the proper length. Unlike a film that has a conformed negative separated into 10- or 20-minute reels, Running Time was all in separate pieces, with each shot edited on separate reels. It was a challenge, but we were able to use a previous master as a reference and most of it went together without a hitch. Being shot in B&W also helped in color correction to hide the edits properly to make the real-time aspect as seamless as possible. Once the film was properly assembled, we were able to ship everything off to India for restoration. Because Josh had everything stored properly for decades, the negative itself was fairly free of a lot of dirt and scratches, but we did carefully sonically clean all the pieces before scanning commenced.

Diabolique: How long does it take the digital artists to fix debris or scratches on the original negatives?

DMJ: There’s a lot of data wrangling involved. Copying data for safety. Making backups, etc. But we have a great working relationship with Prasad. They have worked on such classics as Lawrence of Arabia, How the West Was Won, A Fistful of Dollars, Gandhi, The Red Shoes, etc. They do the lion’s share of my output, and I put a lot of trust in them. They’ve never failed me. We do ship the film scans to India and that takes time. I think Running Time took about 4-5 months. I let them take their time, though, because I don’t want to have to keep sending things back for fixes. With Running Time, they did an excellent job, right from my first restoration test reels. But, again, Josh had taken very good care of his materials, so it wasn’t much of a challenge.

Diabolique: Gerry, what artwork did you originally provide for Running Time and what can we expect from you for the 2K restoration?

Gerry Kissell: I did promotional art that ended up on tee-shirts. It included the shot of the three main characters, which I called Tres Hombres, on one, Jeremy Roberts aiming the pistol at the camera on another, and the last, which you’ve seen of Bruce’s mug all heroic and chinny. All of the art was done on Bristol cold press illustration board. The new painting for the Synapse release is me, 20+ years later, a tad bit better at drawing and painting, lol.

Diabolique: Besides the idea of preserving Running Time, Don, what attracted you to the project?

DMJ: We had worked previously with Josh on Thou Shalt Not Kill…Except, and we had a lot of fun with that one. I like working with Josh. He’s a great guy, and I love that he’s so passionate about film. He loves movies, and he loves MAKING movies. It’s so great to see people like Josh doing things like Running Time, back when using computers to do a “one take” approach was non-existent. You see things today like the film 1917, which is a fine film in its own right, but they cheated a lot of its “one take” aspect using computers. Josh did Running Time, but used his brain, and actual organic film splicing and editing to achieve the same result. He’s smart, funny, talented and I love working with people like him. It also doesn’t hurt that Running Time stars Bruce Campbell, so… yeah… of course, we jumped at the chance to do it.

Diabolique: When can fans expect to see the Running Time 2K restoration?

DMJ: I would imagine late summer/early fall 2020. We’re wrapping up extras and artwork now.

#Running Time #Bruce Campbell #Josh Becker

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nibscribs · 6 years ago

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So uhhhh I drew a lot of RWBY this year... only two of these are non RWBY and tbh I could have just as easily put something RWBY for June Template

Retrospective under the cut bc it’s LONG

RETROSPECTIVE January: First piece of the year! I still like this piece and I think it shows how much I improved from the original version of it. Also I just like looking at it bc it's soft content of my rare pair. I do think I made the rose look photorealistic which looks... bad esp with all the other more stylized flowers, and I got lazy with the bleeding hearts by just drawing one set and flipping them. Emerald's hair also could look better. February: I made this around GNG week, which was a fun, good time, long before the server imploded on itself. I got really lazy with the backgrounds, obviously, but I do like the poses in this one, tho it helped that I based it off of screenshots from Young Justice. I also just really like how Merc looks in this one. March: March wasn't a very prolific month for art, I don't think I produced much besides this and one comic piece for GNG week. I'm not sure why exactly, I can't find any specific reason why I would be unproductive that month. I'm gonna just assume I was drained from work all the time and didn't have the energy to put out good art, and also I was getting into a slump bc all my art was starting to look same-y. This piece isn't very good, but I chose it because I did it without a reference, and at this point that was going out of my comfort zone. It's obviously not super dynamic, but at the very least you can tell I intended there to be motion to it. April: This also wasn't a very prolific month for art, not as bad as March, but for the same reasons. I was also really starting to feel burnout from the RWBY fandom, specifically wasps and conflict within the GNG server. This was also when the Art vs the Artist meme was popular, and I realized I didn't want to do that meme because my art was too similar and boring, which also brought me down a peg. Though I put out a few good chibis in April, I chose my Mercury redesign bc I was really proud of it. I could never get the Emerald redesign to mesh quite right, but I can say I'm really proud of how Mercury's came out. May: May had me bounce out of my art slump and in full force trying to expand my skills! Specifically exploring painting. Although May was about as prolific as April, what I did create I put a lot into. It was difficult to pick between this and my app of Edison, because I'm really proud of both, but in the end I went with this commission of Mercury because I pushed myself to try and use an interesting perspective for the piece instead of my usual stand still and face the camera pose. Because I pushed myself out of my comfort zone, this was one of the best things I made all year, and may be my favorite piece of the year. June: TIME TO STRESS OUT ABOUT CONNECTICON! So if you follow me on twitter, you might have noticed I made a lot of posts at the beginning of the year low key throwing shade at myself for drawing my oc's instead of more "important" art. Well, that important art that I was procrastinating was con merch, and con was the second week of July, so I really had to get my ass in gear to finish merch on time (spoiler, I didn't finish a lot of it on time). This piece and July's piece are both posters I made for Connecticon, and while I like July's much better, that doesn't mean I find this piece bad. I really should have known that no one at con would realize it was a goonies reference tho -_-; I also lost a lot of love for this piece after season 6 of Voltron, which I watched while I was about 60% of the way through this piece, so I had to force myself to finish it. July: I love this piece!!!! Don't get me wrong, I know it has flaws, but look at it! The lines are so crisp, the colors look good, Roman and Merc's expressions are mwuah chefs kiss, and I just love all of them!!! ... except for Neo. I really didn't do her justice in this piece, her hair is too fluffy, her head is way to oversized to the point that she looks like a bobblehead, and her eyes are too close together. Really if you take out Neo's head that whole problem goes away. I also love all the tiny details I put in this one, from emerald's chaps to roman's rose to Neo's lace parasol. You can tell I was way more passionate about this piece than I was about the Voltron piece. August: pretty sure this is when I quit my job cashiering, and thank god bc customers suck. If I was going off of sheer popularity, Chibi Pyrrha would have taken this slot no contest, and while I love chibi Pyrrha, I don't think it was the best of the month. I chose this little princess and the pauper au doodle because I tried a year ago to draw these two dancing, and it looked like dog shit. It was flat and ugly. But this has motion to it, and even looking at it now makes me feel warm and happy inside. It's just a good cute drawing of my otp. September: My piece for the RWBY tarot project! I have a lot of mixed emotions about this one. on the one hand, I love how mercury looks, his expression, the lighting, the visceral gore from his legs (ESPECIALLY THE VISCERAL GORE ON HIS LEGS) and the hands of the undead, all look stunning and I don't think I could be more happy with how they turned out. And then we get to the background. The caduceus isn't the worst thing ever, but it's severely lacking in quality compared to the rendering on mercury in front of it, and a lot of it is clearly pixellated from me trying to stretch and squash it just right. And the fire is a hot (no pun intended) mess. It's flat, incoherent, and doesn't lead the eye anywhere. It's a shame too because I wanted to do more with it, but I a) didn't have enough time or patience to figure out what I needed to do to fix it and b) didn't want to go outside of my comfort level, so I gave up and decided to be satisfied with what I had. October: October was another good month for art, I made a turnaround sheet for Moss, painted a full body (and slightly lewd) Rudy, and made a decent attempt at inktober. Ok, so I got like 2 days in, but I improved a lot on inking from last year! Fun fact! this piece was originally going to be fan art of Lindsay Jones, but after I did some thumbnails to figure out a pose, I thought it would suit White Diamond better, and I could also sell it as merch. I love this piece. I think I captured the sinister mood well, and conveyed the story I wanted to without any dialogue (at least the notes on Tumblr make me assume I did a decent job, lotta people really wigged out lol) I really worked hard to get the lighting right on this one, and I think it shows. My absolutely favorite thing about this piece funnily enough, is Amethyst. I think I just did a great job drawing her and I'm proud of myself ok. Stevens bubble and my trouble figuring out how to get WD's leg just right are the only things that I dislike about this piece, but I might go back and fix those. November: IM SO PROUD OF THIS COMMISSION!!!!!! I worked so god damn hard on this chef's kiss poifect, and it really shows. I started using a new brush at this point, the Ojing series on Clip Studio Paint, which I recommend and have been using a lot since. I've also been using this shading technique since drawing this. I love how it sort of fades out but it's still really crisp. I also love all the little details that give this piece character, like her shoes and the stripes on her jacket. This piece really takes a lot of the stuff I learned over the year and combines it into one piece, and I could not be prouder of it. I have absolutely no problems with this one, though I do find the weapon a bit plain, but it's what the client described. December: AND NOW IT'S CHRISTMAS!!!!! I had been working on this piece since August, going back to it every now and then and getting frustrated. I'm really glad I came back to it and finally finished it, since I love this pair and I put a lot of effort into it back in August. However, I'm also really glad I completely overhauled a lot of it, specifically the flowers. Though I'm not 100% happy with the mums in this one, they look a thousand times better than the mums I had originally sketched back in August, and were part of the reason I had such a hard time finishing this for months. I also thought it would be nice to end the year on the same note it started; with a flower couple. I've definitely learned a lot since January, and I hope to continue growing in 2019! 2019 GOALS!

Work on backgrounds for the love of god

Draw more stuff that isn't RWBY

Perspective

Make more speed paints and post more to youtube in general

#2018 summary of art #2018 retrospective #art progress #year in review #not art

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dyketectivecomics · 6 years ago

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WHEN will dc/wb do something interesting with their animated content !! like marvel/song is out here, giving us itsv, whilst the most fun ive had with dc animation in a while was bvtmnt so like. cmon yall. do something cool.

I haven’t seen the TMNT crossover yet but it’s looked p good from what I have seen! ESP the creature redesigns for the rogues? I’m hype. I need something just Fun like that in my life.

Just watched ITSV yesterday and I’m!!!!!! STILL R E E L I N G. It’s been SO LONG since every single second of an animated feature was just??? So fresh & delightful to see??? EVERY frame could be lifted straight from a comic. And the fact that they still MIXED Opposing Styles and MADE it work like!!! That film is just Art. It’s not a movie. It’s Art.

(But boy oh boy, tee u just triggered another Rant from me dude. I’m so sorry everyone. More below the cut)

[[MORE]]

Even taking into account the fact that it took so much time for them to animate it, from beginning to end it was, what? 3-4 years in production iirc? It’s WELL WORTH that effort and that wait! But considering that the last Artfully Done animation that WB did that gave me that Similar Feeling, that I can Distinctly remember, was a box office failure at the time of its release. (I’m referring to Iron Giant, of course. It’s one of my all time favs, it’s one of my Formative Movies tbh. But it FAILED in the box office when it was first released! It’s a GOOD movie, but is it any wonder that WB is afraid to Try things afterwards?)

The only Cinematic Animated Superhero movies by WB that I can remember getting a wide release in theaters were Lego Batman (which obvsly did Good and did Bruce better than any other Batman movie in recent memory and we Stan) TTG! to the Movies (no comment) and The Powerpuff Girls (which I’ll count even tho it’s not a DC property but it IS WB’s and since it bombed, ironically enough, because most people found it too Violent compared to the series itself, it might explain why WB might be hesitant to pick up Superhero Animation. But I’ll wax poetic abt it some more some other time)

Edit: actually, PPG was CN studios & Distributed by WB. If we want to get Technical. But I’m still counting it since CN is under the WB umbrella anyways.

they all have their faults and their charms, but considering that WB hasn’t been a big player in theaters much at all, and continues to Play Things Safe with loads of direct-to-video & TV specials. It’s just... disheartening. We SHOULD be getting these wonderful, incredible, Cinamatically Worthy stories and yet??? Every year the WB/DC team decides to treat us to one DTV Batman movie and Oh Hey Here’s Something Not Batman.

Other productions like Incredibles, Megamind, Big Hero 6, & ITSV. They’ve had varying success! And they’re still only a handful of all of the animated Superhero movies out there!

Whether it’s because public perception towards Animated movies is still so skewed that it’s a genre “Only For Children”, or the idea that Superhero movies should be sweeping “Realistic” epics. It’s anyone’s guess. In this way, we might actually be grateful towards WB for at least Providing us with consistent content. I mean, when was the last type anyone tried hyping up a Marvel Cartoon? I’m not gonna knock on marvel too much here, but compared to the DC fan base & esp the Timmverse fan base, does Marvel have anything that even comes close? I’m genuinely curious.

Marvel may have the public’s attention 100% with the MCU and with the box office. But DC’s very much cornered the market with animation and TV series. As much as the CW/Arrowverse shows might be a mixed bag for me personally, they’ve done Very Well for themselves. And there’s something to be said about that. But circling back to Animation here one last time:

Animation is a medium that’s supposed to allow you to do things that simply CANT be done in live action. And the WB/DC team HAS done some pretty cool stuff even with the DTV movies! But when they COULD be doing something More Original and pushing more styles and stories. When they could stop adapting Popular Comics bc thats what ‘fans’ keep Demanding, and instead provide something 100% new and unique? When they provide something just Different from the expected and Take a Chance on something new? That’s when I think we’ll ALL be better off for it.

#asked and answered #prxttybird #tee tag #randywrites #long post #JL gods & monsters was probably one of my FAVS bc it was so DIFFERENT from what they had been doing!!!#the constantine movie??? SO GREAT!!! bc magic NEEDS to be animated!!! its High Fantasy stuff there!!!#who the FUCK was asking for all of these movies with damian that completely erased jay n tim n cass n EVERYONE #ok but thats another fuckin rant for another fuckin time big oof #oh man im just. theres SO MANY directions i can go but im having trouble staying on One Thread too long on this #its a Pretty Big Topic to cover honestly

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maxattack-powell · 6 years ago

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Boston - Just Keep Swimming (2-8d)

The Freshman

Book 2: Boston - Just Keep Swimming (2-8d)

***This is an original fic that fits in Book 2/Chapter 8 (split) - labeled as 2-8d in my masterlist***

Masterlist - go here for other chapters and related original fics

Disclaimer: The following are fics (adaptations from actual game chapters AND original works) to Choices: The Freshman and The Sophomore stories. It is a fictional adaptation. I do not work for Pixelberry Studios, the game developer or own the rights to the characters Chris Powell, Nicole or any other IN GAME character. All of the ORIGINAL characters, storylines and events were developed for my adaptation of The Freshman story.

Comments: I enjoyed playing Choices: The Freshman… But I wanted more. Basically, I’ve included certain things that aren’t really full fic size, adding more substance to the story. I ALSO have quite a few full size fic moments. I wanted to see MC and Chris through their freshman year… with more angst, fluff, sweetness, real life and overall detail.

NSFW may exist moments in this story - Mature Readers Only Please

Paring: MC x Chris

POV: ~MC~ or ~Chris~

~MC~

MC shivers, unsure why she feels cold. Her eyes slowly crack open and she finds herself alone in a dark room, wondering two things: one, why was she awake, and two, why was she alone. She decided the first was directly tied to the second. MC rolls over and verifies that she is in fact, alone. Her nose scrunches up as she rolls back to face the side table, reaching for her phone to check the time.

Just as she sees that it is far too early for her to even care, the door to the room flies open and in rushes one very awake, very energetic Christopher Powell. Her eyes grow wide as he rushes the bed, jumping into the air as he sails across the mattress and half lands draped over her. His impact forces out a rush of air from her lungs, making her suck one in as she gives him the craziest look.

Chris just tilts his head and smiles, as if his actions were perfectly normal and acceptable. She presses her lips together, knowing exactly what he's about to say and completely disagreeing with his wishes.

“Nope.”

“Yes.”

“No way.”

“Oh baby, yes way… yes all the way.”

MC tries to roll over and curl up into a ball, not quite ready to face the day as she prepares for the next words to come out of his mouth.

Chris easily flips her onto her back and gives her a very serious look. “MC. You’ve skipped going with me for four…” He looks up for a second as he thinks back. “...no. Five days?” He gasps and looks at her in shock. “MC!”

“So?” She says before she sticks her tongue out.

He rips the covers away from her, exposing most of her skin to the cool air. She gasps and he grins mischievously before pushing her shirt up and blowing raspberries across her stomach and ticklish sides. She immediately starts to squirm and kick, her hands digging into his shoulders as she tries to escape his grasp. He holds onto her hips as he continues to attack her midsection with his lips.

When he doesn’t let up, MC begins to smack his broad back and shoulders, trying anything to slow him down. “Chris!”

He lets out a horse laugh as he continues, talking between each contact his warm lips make with her soft skin. “You’re. Going. Say it. And I’ll quit.”

MC tries to fight him a little longer before finally deciding it’s futile. She takes a deep breath and sighs dramatically through a smile she can’t seem to stop from creeping across her face. “Fiiiiine, just… stop!”

Chris instantly lifts his head from her stomach and gives her the sweetest smile. Butterflies begin to fill her abdomen where his lips were seconds earlier as she feels him rub her exposed hips with his thumbs. He holds her gaze and everything seems to slow down for a moment as they lay there, both staring quietly into each others eyes.

He finally shakes his head and lets go of her, much to her dismay. He climbs up and off the bed before reaching for her. When she places her hands in his, Chis pulls her up and against his chest, humming deeply when their bodies flush against one another.

“That’s my girl…” He says softly before suddenly reaching down and lightly slapping her on the ass cheeks.

She gasps out at the light sting and he spins, taking off as she reaches for a pillow. MC lobs it with scary accuracy at the door as he barely closes it behind him in time. She grumbles and gets ready fairly quickly, only taking a few minutes, knowing that if she doesn't he will be back with a vengeance. When she exits the room and makes her way towards the front of the apartment, she finds Chris with Ethan and Steph in the kitchen, all three dressed and ready for the gym.

MC looks at Steph curiously. “Is Ethan making you go too?”

The shorter strawberry blonde laughs and glances at the guys. “Yeah, I was politely reminded that I was going last night. Apparently this was the plan all along.”

Ethan scoffs lightly next to her, his lips curling slightly on the edges. “You agreed to going days ago. It’s not my fault you forgot.”

Steph nods. “Yeah, yeah… okay. You got us out here boys, are we doing this or what?”

MC smirks as she watches her new friend give the guys back some attitude, quickly noting another reason why she likes Steph so much. The group collects their things and heads out, walking for a few blocks before jogging the last few on their way to the BC Rec Center.

They enter the Flynn Recreation Complex and follow Ethan to the elaborate fitness area. Once inside, the guys split and head towards the free weights towards the back of the room to begin setting up as they wait for Ethan’s roommates.

The girls head up to the cardio equipment that is setup on the open floor directly above with plans to come back down after they get their heart rates up. They jump on two ellipticals facing out over the rest of the area, unable to see the guys directly below them, but at least they have something to look at in the remaining space.

~Chris~

The Hartfeld Quarterback did not like this setup. At the Knights Student Rec building he could easily see MC from any spot while he was stationed at the free weights. Just about anywhere she went around the facility, he could enjoy the view and keep an eye out for any incoming threats he might have to intercept. But here, she was completely out of sight, at least for now.

Chris knows they will move back out into the center of the Fitness Center after a while because that's where the battle ropes are setup, but it wasn't going to be soon enough. His brow creases slightly as he tries not to openly sulk at the thought, choosing a pair of 100 pound dumbells to work through his dumbbell press and row sets before walking back to Ethan near the row of benches.

His friend begins to grab multiple weight disks as Sam, DeLuca and Scotty all arrive. Sam greets them both with wide smiles, patting each of the Cherryfield boys firmly on the back with his wide hands before grabbing another set of dumbbells and setting them down next to the set at Chris’s feet. DeLuca stretches as Scotty helps Ethan grab the remaining disks they will need for their bench press workout.

They set up different stations on multiple benches, taking turns running through sets and spotting one another as they workout. Having an odd number of guys, one would occasionally take a break to grab some water or stretch nearby. It was Chris’s turn and he suddenly reaches for his phone as an idea pops into his head.

Chris pulls up Google and quickly searches for something before opening his texts messages. He easily finds MC’s name on top, making the end of his lips curl just a little. His fingers fly over the screen, typing out his message before he hits send and puts it back down on the empty machine nearby before turning to join the guys when he hears Ethan call his name.

~MC~

Chatting about their course workload and a few other school related subjects, MC and Steph don't seem to notice the notification ding on MC’s phone inside the elliptical cup holder. After a minute or two without her response, her phone dings again, this time catching the pair’s attention.

She reaches for it and instantly smiles when she sees *Captain* across the top of the screen. When she opens the message and views the text, her brow knits together slightly in confusion.

‘Girl is on my mind. Girl is on my mind. Try to ignore it. I try to unwind. But she is on my mind…’

MC mumbles to herself. It felt very familiar, but she couldn't place it. So she copied the lyric and Googled it instead, instantly shaking her head when she saw the results.

“Fail MC…” She scoffed at herself as she realized that they were the intro lyrics to The Black Keys Girl Is On My Mind, a song Chris had sent her at least once before during one of his self proclaimed boring history classes.

Before she can reply a small text bubble appears, show that he was typing another message at the same moment. It only took a second before the text appeared.

‘baby?’

She begins to laugh, catching Steph’s attention. MC holds the phone so her friend can see it, making Steph smile and shake her head.

“That boy has it bad… you're in trouble MC.” She laughs softly as she adjusts her incline and continues to push through.

MC snorts as she tries not to outright laugh. “Oh yeah? And your sweet as sugar ginger down there doesn't?”

Steph opens her mouth to refute MC’s statement but quickly snaps it shut, her cheeks turning a nice pink shade. “I plead the fifth.”

The tall blonde laughs hard as she opens the text to reply, glancing over and cocking an eyebrow at her slightly shorter friend. “Uh huh… thought so.”

Her fingers fly over the screen as she types her response. ‘On your mind? Shouldn't you be focusing on the guys, the weights, and making Cohen happy with your advances?’

His reply bubble appears instantly, his text appearing in less than three seconds. ‘impossible. I know youre above me and i cant see you. somehow youre more distracting this way’

MC smirks. ‘Oh, this is my fault? Thats hilarious.’

‘you laugh at my pain? such a cruel mistress.’

‘Mistress huh?’

Minutes pass without a response, making her set her phone back down and wonder what he might have meant. She shakes her head, removing the slight crease in her brow as she tries to decipher his message. Before she gets too deep in thought, her phone dings again. MC cautiously lifts it up and softly smiles as she reads the message.

‘shit i didnt mean it like that’

Only a few seconds pass before another comes directly after. ‘I meant it like… youre a mistress because youre completely in control. or something?’

As soon as he sent the text, another bubble appears. ‘can i take it back?’

MC laughs hard and shakes her head. ‘Oh, so I’m in control here? That's interesting...’

‘um.’

‘I'm just messing with you handsome. Kinda. Don't get hurt down there because you're distracted thinking my being “in control” of the situation.’

‘damn. okay thats not fair and its not possible. im looking forward to getting to those ropes since they have a better view of the cardio section’

‘Do they?😏’

‘sure do. until then i need you to do something’

‘Hmm. What's that I wonder?’ Her curiosity is honestly piqued, instantly wondering what he’s going to ask.

‘you recognize the song?’

‘Totally.’

‘😂 uh huh. you had to google it didnt you baby…’

‘No….’

‘lol you LIAR.’

‘Okay so, I knew what it was but wasn't sure. I don't remember lyrics as well as you Chris. Don’t make me start quizzing you on my favorite books.’

‘okay okay. theres no reason to crush me. i just wanted to play a game… you in?’

MC shrugs to no one in particular, noticing Steph turning on her own music to give them some privacy. ‘Sure. What are we doing?’

‘the black keys - lyric story. we take turns choosing a song, tying them together… yanno, to tell a story.’

She smiles and quietly speaks to herself as she turns her own earbuds on and begins to search through her music library for the right response to his choice. “Could be fun… and hard. He knows he has the advantage. Ugh.”

‘How do we win?’ She shoots back, quickly searching through their music library.

‘first person to get stuck or crack loses.’

She smiles wide. Chris might know a lot of music, The Black Keys specifically, their songs and the lyrics well, but she knows how to Google and more importantly, she knows how to get to Chris. It doesn't take her long to find a song she's sure will get a response from him, scrolling to a particular verse before she copies and hits send.

~Chris~

‘And I’ll be good. Like I should. Waitin’ is such Misery! I need, your TOUCH.’

Chris swallows hard as he reads her text message, feeling his lower body respond to her choice in song. He quickly glances around the group and shakes his head, refocusing on the next set when Sam pats him on the back after he stands. Chris thinks about his responding song choice while he pushes the bar up and smirks as it hits him, receiving a curious look from the Boston College student as he spots Chris’ lift.

“What’s up? You good?” Sam tilts his head slightly, his eyes running across the bar to check everything.

Chris can’t help it as his smile grows. “Yeah man. Just had an idea. It’s nothing.” He sits up and nods towards the bench. “You ready?”

He takes his turn spotting Sam, his mind running through the lyrics to Howlin’ For You. The moment Sam’s set is finished, Chris steps over to his phone and quickly types out a responding message, setting it back down with a triumphant smirk as he grabs the set of dumbbells to his right.

~MC~

‘I must admit, I can't explain. Any of these thoughts racin’ through my brain, it’s true. Baby I’m howlin’ for YOU.’

The Hartfeld student bends over with laughter, trying not to attract too much attention as she stifles her cackles. Steph gives her a curious look and MC shakes her head, pointing at her phone to let her know that she’s still texting with the Hartfeld quarterback. Once her friend turns back to her own phone MC immediately starts searching through more songs, eventually selecting Work Me for its very literal lyrics.

~Chris~

His phone chimes with her text and he does his best to hide his excitement, taking his time to walk over and pick it up, not willing to let anyone see his eagerness. His blue eyes fall on the screen and he almost chokes.

‘Want you to work me, baby. Lord how, make me feel it.’

Chris feels his face heat up quickly, reaching behind to rub the base of his neck in an attempt to relieve the sensation. His mind races through all The Black Keys songs he knows as he searches for the best response while his heartbeat does its best to calm down. He eventually settles on one and types out a response.

‘She’s the worst thing I’ve been addicted to. I run right back, run right back to her.’

He quickly leaves the bench press section and steps out from under the edge of the cardio area, his bright blue eyes searching for his girl. He needs to see her face when she reads it. Something was pulling him to her with that one and he can't quite explain it. When his eyes find her and Steph on the right side he stops moving, eagerly watching as she picks up her chirping phone.

MC’s face scrunches up slightly as she reads the text. He knows she’s not very familiar with some of the songs like he is, so he assumes she will search for the lyrics. When her face lightens back up and she smiles with a soft laugh he can't help but grin, knowing she understands his choice and what it means.

~MC~

Her eyes search the page, scanning over the full song lyrics as she knows why he chose the song. Feeling his gaze she looks away from the screen and out across the floor. It doesn't take long to find the set of piercing blues staring back up at her. She already had a song in mind from her previous search, so she quickly copies some of the lyrics from Black Door and hits send, her eyes holding his as his phone buzzes in his hand.

~Chris~

The tall quarterback quickly looks down and reads her text.

‘What’s behind your black door? I want to know. I want to know, yeah. Make take a week, honey. It may take more.’

His eyes flip back up, finding hers still focused on his. Chris feels his chest tighten slightly, understanding the message from his girlfriend. He can't help but smile when he thinks of her like that. When he thinks about MC being his. And right now, his girlfriend is asking to be let in, to know more about him, all of him. Including the dark side most people don't want to know, hidden behind their black doors. She’s not afraid to fully know who he is. It just about scares the hell out of him.

Chris licks his lips as their eyes stay locked. His mind reels through his past, good and bad, and all the people that have meant something to him before. Not many truly know who he is, but she wants to, or at least he hopes that's what she wants. He feels his heart beat harder as his eyes search hers. Feeling his own burn slightly at the corners he blinks rapidly and looks down, knowing exactly what song he wants to send her next.

~MC~

She watches with quiet intensity as his thumbs move quickly over the screen of his iPhone, not noticing as Ethan and Sam climb the stairs and approach the girls on Steph’s opposite side. MC’s phone buzzes in her hand as Chris looks back up to find her hazel eyes once more. She hesitates as she studies his face, not missing the serious edge now rooted in his expression.

Glancing down she carefully reads his message. ‘When I was thirteen, my mom said “Son you're the one I adore”. Now I'm old and wise, when I see your eyes, you're the one I adore.’

MC feels her face heat up as she blinks slowly, glancing back down to find that his eyes never left hers. When she doesn't move a small smile slides across his lips, making her relax and let out a breath of air before she smiles back. She begins to sift through more songs by the band, highlighting a section to copy and send back when Sam approaches her right side.

~Chris~

His brow furrows slightly as his eyes flick back and forth between MC and Sam. They are too far away for him to hear what they are saying, so he watches with intensity instead. He trusts her, he really does. He even trusts Sam. Mostly, but he can't help but curse the guys timing.

“Not right now…” He grumbles under his breath as Scotty and DeLuca approach him from behind.

Scotty pats him on the shoulder as they move to setup the battle ropes just a few feet away. Chris lets out a small sigh as he turns to join them at the new station, his eyes often glancing back up towards the others, watching as Sam makes MC laugh loudly.

He freezes, his senses assessing her reaction for interest. It takes a moment, but he eventually relaxes, deciding that she was being her normal friendly self. It only takes a few seconds before she turns to search for him, her eyes shifting quickly when he's not found in the spot he was a minute before. Chris grins as he watches her confused and slightly concerned expression grow. A moment later finds him, her wide eyes relaxing as she sees his knowing smirk.

Chris watches as she finishes her conversation with Sam and pulls her phone back out the instant the BC student turns towards the stairs. It only takes a moment before his phone dings with her text notification. He glances up at her before pulling it out, noting how her expression turns very confident, making him curious about her choice as he looks down to the device in his hand.

‘Nobody babe. Nobody but you, darling. Nobody babe. Nobody but you, darling. On my mind.’

He can't help it as his lips curl up sharply, creating a wide smile that reaches his crinkling eyes. The pressure on his chest he didn't realize had settled in begins to lift, making him feel lighter than he has all morning. Chris looks up, wide smile still in place as he finds her hazel pair once more.

He steps over to the battle ropes and bends down, grabbing a set as he watches Steph and MC descend the stairs behind Ethan and Sam. Feeling very confident now, thanks to her recent lyric choice, Chris begins to whip the heavy ropes in a perfectly executed pattern. He keeps his eyes on her as his arms tighten more and more with each pop of the rope.

~MC~

She nods to Sam as he and Ethan move from the base of the stairs to join the others, her eyes only briefly leaving to search for Chris so she’s not rude to the Boston students. When her hazel eyes find his set of beautiful blues once more she licks her lips, noticing the way his upper body begins to flex, making plump veins grow as he works through his set.

Steph leads her over to a set of machines nearby where they both sit down and adjust the weights before they begin. MC’s eyes stay glued to Chris as his chest begins to rise and fall rapidly with his intense workout, swallowing hard as he finishes and drops the heavy ropes to the ground with a loud thud. She watches as he paces nearby, shaking his arms and stretching them high and wide before he pulls out his phone.

His eyes leave hers long enough to type her another message. Only a second passes before they shoot back up, finding hers at the exact moment she hears her phone ding. Chris continues to pace like a caged animal, shaking the blood back into his limbs as the other guys work through their sets of battle ropes, holding her gaze with intensity the entire time.

MC forces herself to break the hold he has on her and looks down, realizing that he hadn't sent lyrics, but the entire song itself. She hits play and leans back as The Only One begins to play in her earbuds.

Can't explain, nor can I contain

Control, you have on my soul

'Cause all I do, is baby dream of you

I'm fallin' down, when you're around

MC focuses on the words, her movements stalling as she watches him continue to tread back and forth nearby.

You're the only one, you're the only one

I am so wrapped up in a daze

Hopin' this is just a phase

But when all is said and done

I know you are still the one

You're the only one, you're the only one

Cupid's bow it stung

Now you're the only one

She watches as his expression turns soft, his brow knitting together slightly as he looks at her with obvious longing.

Mystery, is what this is to me

I'm givin' up, I am having no luck

Like a ghost, the one that I love most

She disappears, when I get near

Something in his expression makes her heart twist. He’s clearly trying to communicate something to her, but she isnt fully understanding. There’s more he isn't saying, at least not with his words, not with his lyrics. However his eyes are doing the opposite as they bore deep into hers.

You're the only one, you're the only one

I am so wrapped up in a daze

Hopin' this is just a phase

But when all is said and done

I know you are still the one

You're the only one, you're the only one

Cupid's bow it stung

Now you're the only one

MC has stopped all movement, completely unaware that Steph had changed to another machine further away. She’s aware that other students are moving around the facility, but they are a blur as she can really only focus on the tall handsome young man just a few yards away.

O-o-only one, o-o-only one

As his song ends she knows what she has to send next. It came across her phone earlier while searching for another and wasn't a good choice at the time. But now, now it’s an absolutely perfect way to describe how she feels. She knows she has to find it again. MC curses as she scrolls through the list, doing her best to recall the name.

When her eyes land on the right one, it only takes her a moment to send it back, watching as Chris activates his earbuds to hear it. He doesn't take his eyes off of her to look at the song title on his screen. She hits play at the same time his fingers tap his phone, trying to sync with him as she watches for any change in his expression as it begins.

She knows Chris is much better at lyric games or generally anything to do with songs, especially when expressing how he feels. She has been trying to learn, but she knows she has a long way to go. This one though, it’s perfect.

Let me be your everlasting light

She immediately notices as his shoulders fall, his body language softening as he listens to the words. MC tucks her bottom lip as Everlasting Light begins to play.

The sun when there is none

I'm a shepherd for you

And I will guide you through

Let me be your everlasting light

Her head tilts as she sees him ball his hands into fists, stretching them back out slowly as the song continues. They repeating the process over and over, making her question the reason for the action.

Let me be your everlasting light

(Shoo-shoo-shoo-wa)

I'll hold and never scold

(Shoo-shoo-shoo-wa)

MC begins to worry that the song doesn't mean what she thought it did when his brow knits tighter together. She watches with some anxiety as he begins to walk towards her, leaving the guys behind and a little bewildered as his speed increases with each step. Before she realizes what's happening, Chris closes in and firmly wraps his right hand around her left wrist.

Neither notice as Sam auditably groans, his expression a slight jealous pout as Chris pulls MC from the machine and towards one of the doors that leads into a less populated hallway.

In me you can confide

When no one's by your side

Let me be your everlasting light

(Shoo-shoo-shoo-wa)

She opens her mouth to say something, now clearly worried she had messed it all up when he pulls her towards him. He spins and pins her against the wall as his large warm hands rise to cup her face on either side.

Oh baby, can't you see

It's shining just for you

Her eyes search his as the now darker set of blues flick back and forth between her very wide hazel pair.

Loneliness is over

Dark days are through

They are through

(Shoo-shoo-shoo-shoo-shoo-shoo-shoo-wa)

It clicks then. She knows what's happening, and she nods as his right thumb slowly caresses her left cheek.

Let me be your everlasting light

(Shoo-shoo-shoo-wa)

I'll hold and never scold

(Shoo-shoo-shoo-wa)

She chose the right song.

In me you can confide

When no one's by your side

Let me be your everlasting light

(Shoo-shoo-shoo-wa)

MC watches as a small smile slides across his lips and his eyes roam her face as he continues to stroke her cheek. She can’t help but smile back, a tiny laugh falling from her lips as his small smile transforms into a very large grin.

Let me be your everlasting light

(Shoo-shoo-shoo-wa)

A train going ‘way from pain

(Shoo-shoo-shoo-wa)

Love is the coal

That makes this train roll

Let me be your everlasting light

Yeah

She sucks in a sharp breath as Chris swiftly leans in, claiming her smile with his own. Her eyes close as he caresses her now warm lips with his own soft and eager ones. He leans into her slightly, causing her to wrap her arms around his waist and pull him closer to her, silently asking him to press against her. She didn't care how sweaty he was because she loved every part of him.

Let me be your everlasting light

She swallows suddenly, realizing what she just thought, her entire person instantly giddy as she questions if it’s true.

Be your everlasting light

Ohh

He obliges, pinning her hips against the cinder-block wall behind her as his hands continue to gently hold her face to his. When he asks for more she doesn't hesitate, her own tongue meeting his immediately. MC can feel his smile against her own, making her nip at his bottom lip as he pulls back to stare into her eyes.

~Chris~

As his eyes refocus on her close proximity, Chris tries to calm his steadily beating heart. From the moment he recognized the song it felt as if it might jump out of his chest. Everlasting Light was an important for him. It had been one of his favorite songs for years, but even more so after his breakup with Nicole. There was something about it. He always wanted to live inside of the song, to experience something so great. A one time he had thought Nicole was his everlasting light, but ended up learning the hard way she was never even close.

Now here, in his hands, was a very bright light. His girl, his MC. Miss Cherry. The brightest light he had ever seen. He studies her face as he contemplates the very real possibility that she was his everlasting light, his heart fluttering slightly when he thinks about it.

“Well?” She speaks softly, interrupting his thoughts.

His brow creases with confusion, totally caught off guard by her sudden question. “Huh?”

A small smirk appears, that smirk, the one he loves so much. ‘Yes… the one I love…’ he thinks happily to himself.

“Does this mean I win?” She says with a cocky edge to her tone.

He suddenly laughs, his head tilting back as he barks out into the empty hall creating an echo that eventually fades as his eyes find hers once again. “Ayuh… you win MC.”

She tilts her chin up triumphantly, making his chest swell with pride, enjoying her competitive side greatly. “So… what do I win Captain?”

He shrugs and slides his hands down to her shoulders, along her arms until he finds her wrists, wrapping his large hands around her thinner ones. “Whatever you want beautiful. It’s all yours.”

MC hums as they hold each others quiet gaze for a few seconds. When the corner of her lips curl slightly he arches an eyebrow, curious about her next move. She flashes him a soft smile as she wraps her arms tighter around his midsection.

“You?”

“Me… what?” He tilts his head slightly, his mind shuffling as he contemplates what she wants him to do.

Her voice goes soft in the empty hall. “Just you, Chris.”

He blinks a few times as he realizes what she means. “Oh…”

Chris’s face flushes slightly as he laughs awkwardly.

“Sorry, thought you were going to tell me that you wanted me to do something… or get something…” He gesticulates sloppily in the air as he begs the heat to leave his face.

When his eyes settle on her face again he sees that her expression has turned mischievous, his mouth instantly goes dry from the promise provided in the glint from her eyes.

“Saving that for later.... Rogers.” She swats him on the ass and takes off, cackling as she runs back towards the double doors and into the fitness area to join the others.

Chris shakes his head and chuckles. “I’m so screwed.”

-------

~MC~

The group finishes up the rest of their exercises and splits off to shower and dress for the rest of the day. Scotty and his girlfriend Jade, decided to join the four once they learned about their Saturday plans. DeLuca scoffed in typical fashion when they asked if he wanted to join, making up some excuse about plans with a hot older student later in the day. Sam sighed and politely declined when invited, mumbling something about not wanting to become the odd man out, or as he humorously put it, the seventh wheel.

MC can't help but smile when he flashes her a sweet but sad smile of his own, sensing that he really does want to spend the day with everyone, but has made the decision to stay back instead. His actions and comments have been giving MC the impression that he might like her, but not in the way most people would assume. Something felt different about it.

Not being able to put her finger on it, MC decides he’s probably generally lonely and less specifically interested in her from his comments. She knows Chris has been paying attention though, his eyes occasionally finding hers anytime Sam was near or talking to her. It was cute, watching her much taller, quarterback boyfriend fret over the attention their new friend gave her on occasion, doing his best to stay back and give them space and not be possessive.

The three couples meet back up and grab a quick breakfast with coffee before jumping on the Green Light Rail to hook up with the Blue Line that heads straight to the New England Aquarium. MC had mentioned to Chris over winter break how her aunt had a beautiful aquarium that she absolutely adored growing up, saying how she would love to have one of her own someday.

She realized that morning when Chris told her some of their plans for the day that he had remembered, obviously adding it to his list for the trip. She knew he was still trying to distract her from everything going on at Hartfeld, and that thought made her feel warm all over.

It didn't take the group too long to arrive at the aquarium, walking up just after the doors had opened for the day. Chris, Ethan and Scotty went to get tickets while the girls all stood under the edge of the awning as a light snow had started to fall in Boston.

They compared family snow traditions, learning that Jade had limited experience with snow before moving to the New England area. Her family was mostly located far enough south where snow was a rare experience so she mostly laughed when the others told theirs.

The guys came back with tickets in hand, chuckling about something the girls quickly learned they didn't want to know about. The group made their way inside the warm building, almost every set of eyes wide as they take in the brand new surroundings. Even inside and still wearing her thicker jacket, MC was shivering. She was having some trouble adjusting well to the cold morning.

Chris must have noticed because before she knew it his long muscular arms were wrapped around her, cocooning her in his warmth. She lets out a soft sigh as she leans back into his chest, enjoying his firm muscles as she snuggles against him. They take their time walking around the aquarium, especially near the penguin exhibit. Everyone enjoying the crazy little birds as they jumped around their rocks and dove into the water.

~Chris~

The Hartfeld quarterback grins as he watches the black and white birds bounce around them. An employee was feeding them during an enrichment exercise and the little birds were more than excited about it. He glances at Ethan and finds his redheaded friend already looking at him, knowing exactly what he's about to say.

“Ryan would die to be here right now.” Ethan states in an even tone, the right side of his lips curling ever so slightly.

“Ayuh… we will have to bring him when he comes back up.” Chris nods with a sad smile.

“Does he have a thing for penguins or something?” Scotty asks with an amused expression as he leans against the railing and Jade rests against his shoulder.

MC looks up at Chris curiously before rubbing her nose into his chest as she clearly tries to absorb more of his warmth. Chris and Ethan chuckle at the same time before Chris leans down slightly, burrowing his nose into her hair.

“He was kinda obsessed with penguins when we were kids… he wanted to live in Antarctica so he could be surrounded by them. His mom kinda crushed his dreams when she told him he couldn't rent a boat and go up there, saying something about needing shelter and yanno... food. He did his best to argue, yelling something about being built for the weather. He even snuck out to the docks one night, his school book bag slung over his shoulder. It was stuffed with snacks, underwear and a compass.”

Ethan starts to laugh harder. “Holy crap. I forgot all about that. His mom was sooooo mad. I remember my dad going down and snagging his hoodie as he tried to untie Mark Jacob’s lobster boat from the dock.”

The redhead doubles over with laughter as Chris begins to laugh harder into MC’s hair. She leans back to see them all better, her eyes sparkling with joy as she joins in.

“No he didn't.” Steph says, standing next to Ethan with a slightly shocked expression.

“Ayuh. He totally did.” Chris chuckles as he wraps his arms tighter around MC. “He tried to get us to go with him too…”

They strawberry blonde glances at Jade and Scotty as they move closer to the group on Chris’s left side. “His poor mom. I would have freaked out.”

The dark haired couple both nod in agreement, eyes wide as Jade speaks. “Pretty sure my dad would have locked me in my room forever if I had tried something like that.”

“Okay. I’m fixing this.” MC interrupts as she spins in Chris’s arms, her back to his chest so she can face the penguin exhibit as she pulls out her phone and selects his name for a FaceTime call.

Chris can’t help but smile as he rests his chin on her shoulder, adjusting his position so his face is in the frame as she waits for the call to connect. He glances over to Ethan, their eyes connecting for a moment as he feels a mixture of glee and sorrow, something he's unfortunately getting used to when he thinks about his two best friends that are always too far away. He really misses having them so close, realizing how spoiled he was for many years.

The loud voice that spills from her phone halts his musings, jerking him back to the present as he turns to look into the ice blue eyes of his best friend, Ryan “The Hawk” Hawkins.

“MC! Girl... I have missed yoooooou… did you ditch that giant--oh hey Rogers. Didn't see you there…”

Chris shakes his head and tries to hide his amusement with fake annoyance. “Uh huh. Nice try you ass.” He can't help but smile when his friend smirks back. “How's the south treating you?”

Ryan shrugs, leaning back on what appears to be his dorm bed as he bends one arm behind his head. “Eh, it’s still cold-ish. More wet than anything. Lots of mud and not much snow at the moment. Kinda lame...” He trails off as he picks at something on his shirt.

Ethan slides next to them, bringing Steph with him. MC holds the phone further back and tilts it, attempting to get everyone in the frame. Chris watches Ryan’s eyes as he realizes what's happening.

“Okay, what cool shit are you guys doing today…” He says in a somewhat defeated voice with a puff of air that jostles his blue black bangs.

The others all turn to MC with a grin and she lets out a small laugh. With a touch of her screen, the camera switches sides and she focuses on the penguins squabbling a few feet away over a patch of rock. They all watch as his somewhat annoyed expression melts and is replaced with elation.

“Oh my god… you're at the AQUARIUM?! Look at them!” His face splits into a huge gaping grin as he sits up and holds the phone close to his face, his eyes shifting across the screen as he studies the view she provides.

“Someone play the song from Happy Feet - see if they will dance! Quick!”

Scotty chuckles next to Chris as he runs his hand through his fluffy jet black hair. “It's practically impossible to look at a penguin and feel angry.”

Jade smiles and tilts her head to see better. “Okay, he's kinda cute.”

Her boyfriend stands straighter and leans over slightly to look her in the eye. “What was that?”

The others laugh as they turn back to the screen, watching Ryan as he’s completely enamored by the animals on the screen to notice her comment. “Can you… like is it possible to feed them… or pet them? Do they have special things people can do, yanno with the penguins?”

MC smiles hard at their friend’s excitement. Chris tightens his grip on her waist when his heart begins to flutter as she responds.

“I don't know, but I’ll ask. That way we can be ready when we all come back next time.” She promises.

“MC.” His voice cuts through the speaker sharply, suddenly very serious as he looks into the camera.

She turns the camera to face the group. “Yeah?”

~MC~

Ryan sighs. “I love you.” His eyes flick to the Hartfeld quarterback. “Chris, I’m sorry, but… MC and I were meant to be together. She's my penguin soulmate. Hate to break it to you this way, but fate is real, and it has brought her to me.”

Chris rolls his eyes and reaches for the phone, taking it from her gently as he takes a few steps away to catch up with his crazy best friend for a few minutes. MC laughs and turns, her eyes searching for an employee with her mind full of questions for their missing friend.

After a few hours and a lunch break at the cafe inside, the group makes their way back outside, their phones and memories full of images to take with them. They take a right and head north, following Steph and Scotty’s lead as they know the area the best as well as Chris’s plans for the rest of the day.

They walk a few blocks until they cross the road and pause. MC looks around and notices they are standing in front of one of the most fascinating carousels she's ever seen. Turning slowly, she looks at Chris and arches an eyebrow. He grins and nods towards the artistic structure and tugs her as they step closer. As they approach the group near the carousel they hesitate, noticing that the others have stopped advancing.

Scotty frowns and turns to face the group of friend. “Well… this is The Greenway Carousel. Unfortunately, it looks like it’s down at the moment.”

~Chris~

The tall freshman quarterback turns to study MC’s face for any level of visible disappointment. He sees a brief flicker flash across her eyes before it disappears forever, quickly replaced with a warm smile and happy eyes as she turns to look at him.

“It’s still neat.” She wraps her arms tightly around his bicep and leans on him as she gives it a reassuring squeeze.

His shoulders fall a little but he leans over and kisses the top of her head. “Sorry baby. Maybe it will be fixed when we come back through later.”

Jade and Steph nod in unison when Scotty speaks. “Actually, that's very likely. They occasionally have to maintenance it while its running. I’m sure it will be working later.”

His girlfriend turns to him with a big grin. “I personally think it’s much cooler at night anyway.”

The Boston baseball shortstop suddenly grins. “You're right. We are definitely coming back.” He looks up towards MC and Chris. “Jade’s right, you have to see it at night.” He nods and takes a deep breath. “This is actually a good thing. Let’s keep going so we make sure to get back before they close.”

The group of students collect themselves and start to move past the carousel until MC stops, causing Chris to become snared in her grasp. He turns to give her a confused look, opening his mouth to speak when he sees her pointing towards the carousel.

She doesn't have to say anything, as her subject is very clear and directly in front of them. Ethan and the others stop and turn around when they realize the couple has fallen back. The BC fullback turns his head towards the massive ride and immediately smirks.

Chris shakes his head as MC lets go of his arm and pulls out her phone, quickly snapping a picture and sending it in a group text between the Maine boys. It only takes about fifteen seconds before they receive a response from Kentucky.

‘I need that.’

Ethan and Chris groan simultaneously, knowing that they will have trouble dragging Ryan away from the giant hawk mount if he gets anywhere near the carousel on his next visit.

It doesn't take long for the group to navigate the small walk over the next six blocks to their next destination. Chris watches as they approach the small dark wooden house nestled in between many larger brick ones.

~MC~

The tall blonde stands there for a moment, looking at all the buildings, quickly realizing that one looks very different from the rest. She glances at Chris with an arched eyebrow. “Okay. Who’s house is that…”

Chris grins and pulls out his phone, sending a quick text before starting a FaceTime call. Someone picks up on the other side and he turns the camera to face towards the house while he hands it to MC. Her brown furrows tightly as she cautiously takes the phone, now very confused with his actions. She doesn't miss Ethan and the others a few feet away with amused expressions.

She lifts the phone and sees Ryan’s face on the screen again. “Uh…” She turns the camera to face her as she begins to speak. “What are yo--”

“THE BRITISH ARE COMING! THE BLOODY BRITISH ARE COMIIIIING!” Their raven haired friend interrupts her with a loud yell, followed by howling laughter.

MC startles with his deafening exclamation, quickly looking up to see who in the area was equally disrupted by his outburst. Luckily, only the group of friends and one very entertained older couple were close enough to hear it, but it didn't stop her face from flushing a deep red.

“What the hell Ryan!” She turns to see everyone laughing fairly hard, especially one Chris Powell who was now folding over almost in half as he struggles to breathe in between each gasp.

Her nose scrunches up and she swats at him with her free hand, the other still holding onto the phone while Ryan continues to laugh. “So this is how you tell me it’s Paul Revere's house?!”

Ryan quickly interrupts her, doing his best to save his best friend. “Wait, wait, waaaaait! MC! Stop. Beating. Chris!”

She does as he asks, letting out a huff of air as she turns her gaze to the screen, occasionally shooting Chris a threatening side glare. He holds up his hands in defense, waiting for Ryan to continue.

“It was me! MC it was MY idea. Chris told me what you guys were doing after the aquarium and I MADE him let me.”

Her eyes narrow as she holds his digital gaze, making his face go neutral as he swallows and remains quiet. “Not funny Hawkins. You're lucky no one was around… or I might be on my way to Kentucky right now.”

She tries her best to keep her lips flat and tight, unable to fully control the corners as they curl just a little. Ryan doesn't miss it and neither does Chris. The spunky running back starts chuckling softly as Chris steps over cautiously, slowly running his arm around MC’s shoulders and tucking her against him.

He leans over and presses his lips against her temple as he kisses on her between almost every word. “Sorry. He asked. I didn't think it would be that... loud.”

MC shoots Ryan another glare before quickly turning her head and biting Chris hard on the shoulder. She made contact easy enough since he was only wearing a thin hoodie over a basic t-shirt, something he was currently regretting from the look on his face as he jumps back.

He gasps and cries out. “Christ woman! What are you doing?!”

“Sweet revenge Powell!” She says as she reaches for him again, making him turn and run behind the others, clearly using his friends as a shield.

She hisses at him as the others laugh, her eyes landing on the red headed young man. “Ethan…”

He quickly holds up a single finger. “No ma’am. I had absolutely nothing to do with this idiocy.”

Steph shakes her head as she crosses her arms. “Uh huh… but you wish you had thought of it.”

MC watches as he struggles to maintain his very solid neutral expression, his eyes locked on MC’s while Chris leans to look at her from between the pair.

The Hartfeld freshman grumbles and turns away, looking at the phone screen once more. “You know I’m going to get you for that. Tell me you know this.”

Ryan’s face splits into a wide grin. “Would it be weird to say I’m counting on it?”

She laughs and sighs. “Knowing you… not really.”

MC hears someone approach and turns to see Chris standing a few steps away, his hands shoved in his pockets with an apologetic expression.

Turning back to the phone she rolls her eyes. “Your distance is keeping you safe… for now.”

Ryan lets out a hearty laugh. “Thanks lady. I won't forget it. You kids have fun now… later.”

Before she can say anything else he ends the call. She knows he was having fun, but could also hear his sorrow whenever they called him. The others cross the street as Chris carefully approaches her right side.

“So… want to go see a really old house, where a guy lived who didn't successfully warn the Americans that the British were coming..?” He gives her a cheesy grin and she can’t help but laugh as she shoves his phone into his hands.

“Didn't warn them?” She asks with an arched eyebrow.

He straightens up, his eyebrows lifting high. “Wait. You don't know this?”

“Uh…” MC glances around as they cross the street, her mind quickly searching for all the facts and stories she knows about the one and only famous ride of Paul Revere.

Chris pumps his fist. “Yes!”

She rolls her eyes as she surrenders. “Okay. What is it… what don't I know?”

He puffs his chest out with pride as he slings an arm around her, leading her inside the courtyard next to the house. “Well, Paul Revere was one of three riders that night, aaaaand… two of the three riders were caught by British patrols. He was actually one of the two.”

MC stops and turns to look at him, not missing his wide grin. “Wait. Really? How did I miss this…”

He tilts his nose down, tucking it into her hair near the ear, speaking low just for her. “Yanno why this is great… from now on, when you think of Paul Revere, the British invasion… Boston… you will think of this moment.”

She tilts her head and gives him a questioning look, making him grin. “I’m inside you forever now baby.”

Her head falls as her eyes close. “Oh my god… Chris!”

He quickly flexes away from her, trying his best to avoid her hands as she tries to grab and poke at his sensitive sides.

After much exploration inside the tiny house, the group of friends move on down the street to the next unknown destination. After another four blocks they cross the road again and make their way up a tree lined path. The branches are bare due to the time of year, but it’s clear where they are going by the large statue in the middle of the walkway.

~Chris~

The tall freshman quarterback tightens his grip on MC’s shoulders as they lag a little behind everyone else. They approach the statue of Paul Revere and it makes him smile, his mind linking this one with the one at Hartfeld. They are different of course, but similar enough to trigger many memories of the one on campus. The same statue that helped him find the tall blonde in his arms. His girl.

He watches MC as she studies the large horse and rider perched above their heads. Briefly glancing up he nods to Ethan who’s waiting a few yards away. His friend gives him a nod in return and starts to move the others further down the path, finally pausing by the fountain to give the Hartfeld couple some time to themselves. Chris thanks the stars that the day was fairly cool, thinning the crowd considerably, leaving them alone near the impressive statue.

Waiting patiently, Chris stuffs his hands into his pockets as MC finishes her admiration of the figure above. She slowly spins and locks eyes with his, her smile warm and inviting.

“It reminds me of--”

“Hartfeld.” Chris softly finishes for her, his cheeks tight with happiness as his grin grows.

Her face slowly scrunches up in a joyful smile as she removes all the space between them, slipping her arms through the loops his tucked arms created. “Yeah.”

“Me too.” He looks up at the figure for a moment before drifting his gaze back to her hazel eyes. “I guess that means it reminds me of you too beautiful.”

She hums and chews lightly on her bottom lip as she gives him an impish smile. “So, does this mean anytime you think of Paul Revere, the British invasion, Boston… or Hartfeld… you will think of this moment?”

Chris starts laughing, immediately recognizing his own words as she recites them back to him. “Ayuh. Which means you’re now inside me… forever.”

MC flashes him a triumphant smirk. “Good.”

He hums a quick agreement, his blue eyes trailing down her face and resting on her lips. She had tucked it back in after her last comment without realizing. He did of course, and now it was teasing him badly. Without hesitation he leans in, pressing his warm lips over her seasonally cooled ones.

She melts into the contact, clearly enjoying the way he feels against her as her hands separate and slide into his rear jean pockets. He laughs against her lips when she playfully squeezes him through the jeans, making him lean forward in surprise as a laugh bubbles out of his lips and makes him break the contact.

“Don't embarrass me woman… there could be people watching.”

She shrugs with amused indifference. “Let them look. That way they know you’re mine Powell.”

He hums through a wide smile. “Alright. I’m good with that.”

They finally make their way down the path, joining up with the rest of the group as they cut through the back gate of the church. The begin to head around the front as they cut through the small yard behind the building. They pause briefly to admire the memorial garden set off to the right.

Multiple posts are tied together with strong wires holding thousands of shiny dog tags. They stand there in silence for a few minutes, paying their respects to the names pressed in metal, representing lives lost in the Afghanistan and Iraq wars.

Ethan pulls something small out of his pocket as he steps around the shimmering wall of metal. MC glances at Chris and he gives her a small sad smile. He squeezes her hand and gives her a understanding nod, receiving a crushed look in return as she bows her head, accepting that he will let her know more later.

Steph walks up behind Ethan as he finishes connecting the small chain on the dog tag around one of the wires, resting her hand on the small of his back. She uses her free hand to make the sign of the cross on her person before Ethan reaches for it, threading his fingers through hers as he leans over and kisses her on the cheek.

No one speaks as they join the others back around the front. Ethan gives Chris a somber smile as they approach. Chris separates from MC and reaches over, pulling Ethan against his chest as they wrap each other in a brief but fierce hug. It ends almost as fast as it begins, with each patting the other firmly on the back. Ethan turns and finds Steph’s hand again before nodding towards the church with his chin.

“We need to get in there. Don't want to miss the tour.” He says after clearing his throat.

They follow the silent redhead as they approach the front of the church. Once inside they hand over their tickets purchased online the day before. A set for admission and another for the special behind the scenes Bones & Burials Tour. Chris knew MC would enjoy going down below the church, but it wasn't scheduled for another half hour so the group takes their time with their own exploration, walking around the pews, quietly reading all plaques.

Ethan and Steph find a secluded pew off to the side and sit down for a while, chatting in hushed tones as she runs her fingers through his hair. As the others walk around, Chris occasionally looks over, trying to nonchalantly check on his friend. When their eyes meet, Ethan gives him a genuine smile and a quick lift of his chin, signaling that he was good. Chris tips his head slightly, reaching up to pluck the bill of his friends stolen Boston College baseball cap. Ethan doesn't miss it and laughs when he realizes it isn't Chris’s usual Hartfeld cap, but his own BC hat instead.

The Hartfeld quarterback continues to walk around behind MC until she pauses near a particular pew. Each pew was actually a small, high backed boxed in area. Each also included a latchable door. Many had plaques on them, telling a random selection of stories and facts. She approaches one and shakes her head when they read that it’s still owned by Paul Revere's descendants.

“Wow… talk about an inheritance. Guess we can't sit here if we ever come for Sunday service.” She blinks a few times and opens the door to enter.

Chris laughs quietly. “Ayuh, I can't say I’ve ever been in a church where people owned the pews.” He sits down next to her, throwing his arm around her shoulders as he settles in. “If we can even call them that. It’s kinda neat though… I wonder if they did it to keep kids under control. I know my mom would have appreciated the help.” He swallows his laughter. “I would have pretended to be in a boat or fort or… something, if we had these.”

~MC~

“Or a spaceship… maybe the Avengers plane… Captain Powell?” She says in a hushed voice, her expression full of amusement.

He laughs softly and leans in close, his lips brushing over her ear, making her shiver. “Uh huh… too bad these walls aren’t taller…” His hand rubs slowly up her thigh, creating an electric charge that runs to the center of her body.

“Chris.” She hisses, her eyes darting around to see if anyone notices. “We are in a church. And not just any church…” He wraps his wide hand around her leg and squeezes a little, making her squeak out. “Chris!”

His body shakes with silent laughter as he releases the pressure but keeps his hand on her thigh. “Okay. I’ll behave. For now.”

She swats him gently on the chest, causing another laugh to rumble underneath her hand as he speaks. “Come on, the tour is about to start.”

The group makes their way to the predetermined location to meet the guide and learn that no one else would be joining them. MC looks around the group and smiles when she sees that the others were as glad to hear it. The group followed the guide down two flights of narrow, steep stairs, and through many very narrow hallways, all lit with eerie dim lighting.

MC was loving it. “Man… Kaitlyn would be eating this up. We should take another day trip just to do this with our roommates.” She says to Chris in particular.

He smiles wide. “I donno if the rest of them would enjoy it as much as you two, but we can try? Trick them if we have to. Tell Tyler were going to check out some new tech, Abbie an art show… oh and for Zack we just need some weird store full of old things...” He winks at her and she grins.

“True, true. Let’s revisit this idea. Formulate a plan.”

The guide stops in front of some tombs built into the old brick walls. Everyone takes pictures and listens as he tells them more about each one.

“I wonder if we cracked it open… if we would find hidden treasure.” MC mumbles more to herself than anyone else.

Scotty arches a sharp eyebrow at her and whispers, clearly creeped out by the idea. “Excuse me?”

She glances around the group and lets out an awkward laugh. “Uh, like in National Treasure..?” Her eyes shift around the group, even gaining the guides attention. “The movie?” She tries again but gets no response, except for Chris who’s entire body starts to shake against her with laughter. Ethan does his best to contain his amazement as well, both clearly understanding the reference.

MC sighs. “Kaitlyn would get it.”

The guide picks back up where he left off, telling entertaining stories about the church’s crypt area. Everyone’s heads bob with conformation as they listen, that is until MC hears something strange down the corridor across from her. It came from behind Scotty and Jade who were too focused on the guides words to notice as he continues to speak. She glances around the group, checking to see if anyone else heard the unusual scraping sound, but no one was reacting.

Shrugging it off, MC turns her attention back to the guide only to hear it again a second later. Her eyes dart back to the corridor and this time she sees that the others heard it too. Each pair of eyes wider than before as they start to turn and look in that direction. MC’s lips press into a thin line as she tries to hide her disturbed excitement. She looks over to Chris and finds him staring down the corridor, his form frozen as his eyes narrow slightly.

“Did you…” He says softly.

The Boston College boys nod in unison as the girls all move closer to their respected boyfriends, especially Jade who moves to stand directly behind Scotty. All except MC however, who grins and leans over instead, doing her best to look past the others and into the darkened corridor.

Chris sees her shift as she begins to move closer and he wraps his hand around her forearm, halting her progress. She pouts and looks back and forth between him and the mysterious sound.

“Hell no woman.” He hisses in response to her silent question.

She grins wide. “Are you scared Captain?”

He snorts. “No. I don't want you to get attacked by a giant rat or something. Then I’d have to carry you up all those stairs and I’ve already lifted weights today.”

Her mouth falls open in shock while the others try not to react.

Steph covers her mouth with both hands and mumbles. “Oh shi...”

~Chris~

Jade shoots Chris a very dark glare while Scotty looks away with an awkward grimace. Ethan sighs, closing his eyes as his head falls and he rubs his forehead. Chris swallows with instant regret.

Thankfully for the Hartfeld quarterback, the guide senses their distraction and interrupts his own story. “Did you have questions? Do I need to repeat anything about the tombs?”

Chris sees the vengeful look on MC’s face and stutters through his words as his eyes meet the guides. “Uh, no… we um, there was a sound…”

He jerks his thumb back towards the noise and glances back towards MC, his mouth racing to finish so he can dig himself out of trouble, hoping to reassure her that it was a complete joke. One he now realizes was a very, very bad idea. The oblivious guide doesn't miss a beat, telling them all about the old pipes they have running through the area that creak and groan as they expand or shrink with the varying temperatures.

The guide then moves them along, quickly followed by the other two couples as Chris snags MC’s forearm, delaying her hasty move to join them. She tugs once in a weak attempt to pull free but stops when he locks his fingers around her wrist. Not turning to meet his gaze, she stands still, eyes focused on the backs of the others now a few yards ahead.

“Baby.” He sighs.

She remains silent and his shoulders fall. “MC, beautiful… that was a joke.” She doesn't move and he rubs the back of his neck with his free hand. “A very, very bad joke…”

MC pulls her wrist from his slackened grip and he rubs his face with both hands. “You know I don't mean it. You know it was a joke.”

She crosses her arms against her chest. “Okay.”

He shakes his head. “Alright, I’ll prove it then.” Without another word he steps in front of her and squats. “Get on.”

She shoots him a confused look, leaning back slightly. “What..?”

Chris reaches back and grips her thighs, pulling her towards his broad back. “Get on woman.”

MC stumbles and ends up bracing her arms against his shoulders, making it easy for him to pull her legs around his back as he begins to stand. She lets out a startled gasp and wraps her arms around his neck, holding on for dear life as he shoots back up into a standing position. He adjust his grip, lifting her so quick he basically tosses her as she wraps her legs and arms tighter around him.

Without a word he begins walking and she speaks in a low voice so the others don't hear. “Chris.”

“Hmm?” He hums quietly.

“You can put me down. I can walk.”

“I know, but I want to apologize for my bad joke. You are ridiculously light I’m going to carry you for the rest of the tour.”

She tucks her face into the crook of his neck and he can feel her smile against his skin as she burrows in. “It was a very bad joke.”

“Ayuh, I won't be making one like that again.” MC kisses his neck and he smiles, feeling relieved that his girlfriend wasn't one to make a big deal out of his poorly executed joke.

He knows that if it wasn't said in front of the others she would have laughed it off like with previous jokes, but since he did it with an audience he knows that it became embarrassing for her. He felt pretty bad about that, taking a deep breath as he mentally scolds himself.

~MC~

Chris does as he promised, carrying her through more corridors, up the stairs and back onto the main floor of the church. The guide turns to take them outside for the second part of the Bones & Burials Tour and he begins to follow without missing a beat. MC knows Chris can easily handle carrying her, something he’s proved many times before, but she didn't want him to do this from the start. It was time to put an end to it.

She gently taps him on the shoulder and he turns his head, doing his best to look her in the eye. “What’s up?”

“Down please.” She requests.

He starts to shake his head and she pats him lightly on the chest, brushing her lips against the edge of his ear.

Chris stops dead in his tracks as she whispers. “Please.”

He sighs and begins to lower her, squatting slightly so she doesn't have to do much but swing her legs behind him to stand. Once separated he turns and she threads her fingers through his, giving him a sweet smile as she squeezes his long digits in hers.

“Thank you.” She looks down at their hands and makes an awkward smile. “So... would you be interested in a nice cemetery stroll with your dramatic girlfriend?”

Chris lets out a huff of air as he flashes a small smile, shaking his head. “MC, that’s no--”

She quickly cuts him off with a hasty kiss, making him blink a few times with confusion. “It’s really okay Chris. I just got a little embarrassed, I guess… it's… it’s dumb. I knew it was a joke.”

He shakes his head. “No, I shouldn't have--”

MC reaches up and gently presses her finger against his lips, arching an eyebrow until he nods once in conformation.

He speaks only after she lowers her hand, gesturing towards the group at the door. “After you m'lady.”

The group follows the guide uphill towards the Copp’s Hill Burying Ground. MC and Chris hang back as the other couples follow the guide a little closer. The sky is grey and overcast, matching the low breeze that cuts through the open area.

MC snuggles close to Chris and he wraps his arms around her as they listen to the guide.

~Chris~

After a few minutes of listening and walking around, MC leans back to look at Chris with a small frown, making his brow crease with concern. “What’s wrong?”

She lets out a small sigh and looks towards their friends, focusing on Ethan. “Is he okay?”

Chris smiles softly and pulls her closer, rubbing her back with one hand while the other holds her tight. “Ayuh… he’s alright. It’s not a new wound, but the scar is still there.”

She nods and keeps silent. Chris knows she doesn't want to pry or bring it up near their friend and he appreciates her thoughtfulness. He makes a note to tell her some key points about Ethan and Ryan’s past at some point when they are alone, knowing it will make it easier for her to navigate the relationships with his best friends.

The sun begins to disappear and the group thanks the guide before heading back the way they came. They pass the statue of Paul Revere, pausing to get a group shot with the help of a random passerby. As they walk down the main street they stop for a quick bite to eat followed by a sweet dessert further down the path. After everyone is content with their choices, they head back through the neighborhood, pausing to take a few more shots of interesting buildings as they go, enjoying the cool walk as they make their way back to The Greenway Carousel.

When they round the corner near the Christopher Columbus Waterfront Park Chris see’s why Scotty and Jade said they should come back later. The sun was just about gone and the sky was dark as a large brightly lit city like Boston could be. None of that mattered though as there was clearly one point of focus in view.

He turns to watch MC as she looks down the street, seeing the exact moment she notices the brightly lit carousel. Her mouth falls open and her eyes grow wide, making Chris smile so hard his cheeks hurt.

She whips her head around to face him, her expression full of wonder and excitement. “Oh my god, Chris!” She shoots her hand out, her finger pointing at the neon lights like a kid in a toy store. “Let’s go!”

Without much warning she peels herself from his embrace and takes off, sprinting down the sidewalk towards the magnificent structure. He doesn’t waste a second, taking off right behind her at a full run, doing his best to catch up but only getting to her when she stops at the crosswalk to check for cars. Once the path is clear she takes off again, sliding to a complete stop in front of the carousel, her eyes wide and reflecting the many colors.

They stand there and stare in awe as they wait for the others to catch up. It doesn't take long for them to arrive and the group pays for a pack of ten rides each. As soon as they are through the gate everyone scatters. Since it was late and even colder than earlier in the day, the carousel was basically empty. Only one other couple was on the ride which meant the students had their choice of mounts.

Jade and Scotty walk calmly towards the big ship and slide into the bench seat under the giant eel, snuggling in for the duration of the experience. Chris smiles at them, sensing that this is something they have done many times before and that exact boat is their spot. His mind starts to flash through places around Hartfeld that he and MC could start frequenting, hoping that at least one significant location will become special to them. Besides the statue of course.

They continue to search for the perfect mount when Steph climbs up on one of the large rabbits along the way. Ethan instantly scales the rabbit holding a carrot next to her, keeping both legs off the side facing her. Chris forces his gaze away once he sees how they look into each others eyes, not wanting to intrude on their soon to be private moment as Ethan leans closer.

He continues to follow his leggy girlfriend, matching her pace as she walks briskly around the mechanical circle in search of the perfect mount. He stops dead in his tracks when she finds the large lobster. She throws one hand up, gripping the pole as she turns to grin wildly at Chris. He starts chuckling when she clambers up so fast he worries she might slip. He moves quick, stepping close to help her. His hands grip her hips, easily lifting her so she can swing her leg over the long arthropods body. He swiftly steps over to the giant blue whale next to her and lifts himself up with minimal effort.

Once everyone settles in the conductor starts the ride. It moves at a slow pace at first, giving them a few adjustment rotations before it really takes off, drawing an excited squeal from MC. Chris chuckles as they spin even faster, watching as she throws her head back and laughs. He can’t stop watching her as she giggles and cackles from the sensation of the spinning ride.

Her eyes find his and her mouth falls open in the biggest toothy smile he’s ever seen. “What?”

Chris shakes his head and licks his lips. “Nothing… you just look… happy. Really happy.”

MC bounces up and down on the lobster. “I love this. I love rides.” Her eyes snap to his. “Chris! Do you think we could go to an amusement park sometime? Like Disney or Universal… oh, maybe Six Flags? Any of them would be so much fun...”

He chuckles. “Whatever you want baby… I’ll go to or ride whatever you want.”

She grins. “Well, I won't be able to ride everything… but I love to go fast.”

He smirks. “Really...”

MC snorts at him with an amused smile. “There could be children nearby Powell. Behave yourself.”

The conductor yells out to the riders. “You guys all paid for multiple rides… unless someone comes up I’m going to let it roll for the entire time. Cool?”

“Yeah!” Ethan and Chris both yell at the same time from opposite spots on the ride as Chris stares into MC’s neon hazel eyes.

As the ride continues to turn she watches him out of the corner of her eye, trying her best not to acknowledge the predatory look in his eyes as he continues to stare at her. Eventually she can’t take it anymore and starts laughing before she turns to face him.

“What are you doing?!” She stands up in the stirrups to rise above him.

Chris is not to be outdone, doing the same on his giant blue whale as he leans towards her, their mounts going up and down on opposite rotations. She shakes her head and playfully shoves his shoulder.

He gasps and pretends like he’s going to fall backwards, receiving the exact response he hoped for. MC’s eyes grow wide and she quickly leans over, reaching for him as if she could save him from a real descent.

“Chris?!” She cries out and he stops flexing backwards, suddenly snapping back up and towards her.

“Ayuh, MC?” He says with a blank face.

She immediately scowls at him. “Seriously?!”

He lets out a soft laugh and swings his leg over so both are facing her now. “There you go, thinking you can budge me again… when are you gonna learn, beautiful?”

MC lets out an exasperated breath as she turns to look forward, doing her best to ignore him.

Chris grins and reaches over to dig one of his boots into the lower rung of her stirrups. She feels his leg nudge hers and turns to look at him, gasping as he reaches over to grab her pole while he also holds onto his. He leans all of his weight onto her lobster as he holds himself up between the two mounts, effectively suspending himself between the two.

She looks up at him as he hovers just above her, her eyes flicking back and forth between his as he studies her face. He sees her swallow hard when he leans a little closer, silently asking for something specific.

MC takes the hint and presses her lips together tightly as she reaches up, spinning his hat so the bill is facing backwards. He grins when her eyes slide down to his lips, making him eager to claim hers. When she looks back up to his eyes he closes the gap, lightly brushing his lips against hers but not fully kissing. He continues to tease her, lightly kissing her lips and nipping at her lower lip until she can’t take it anymore.

He sucks in a sharp breath when she reaches up with one hand, wrapping it around the back of his neck so she can pull him closer. Her lips crush into his and he instantly feels hot. His entire body tingles with excitement as she turns him on with just her fingertips and lips. She deepens the kiss and he has to force himself to break it after a moment, suddenly out of breath but pleasantly surprised.

“Shit.” He gasps out as he sucks in ragged breaths. “What was that...” He states more than asks.

She pulls in her bottom lip and holds his gaze, making him feel a little shaky with desire. Without a word he reaches over to grip her lobster pole with both hands, adjusts his one foot so he can swing his other leg behind her. MC scoots as far forward as he pole will let her and he melds into her back, wrapping his long arms around her to grip the pole and hold them securely to the mount.

~MC~

She leans to one side and turns to look behind her, as she feels him fully press flush against her back. Chris pulls one hand from the pole and threads it through her hair, supporting her head as he leans in and once again captures her lips with his own. An electrical current shoots through her from the contact, his lips massaging energy through hers as he kisses her with force. She reaches up with one hand and slides it through the hair at the base of his neck as the other stays wrapped around the pole for stability.

MC gasps when he nibbles on her lip and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue in, eagerly searching for hers. She meets him immediately and sighs against his lips. Neither seem to notice the spinning surroundings, the loud music or the bright lights anymore. It’s only them now and this moment is all that matters.

She lets out a small whimper when he pulls his lips from hers but sucks in a quick breath with a small moan when he places them on her exposed neck.

“Ah… Chris…” She whispers softly.

He responds with a nip to her throat, clearly enjoying it when she shudders in his hands. He hums against her cool skin, his hot breath making her shiver in the cold night air. Her mind has gone to mush, no longer able to think of anything other than the affection he’s providing.

The ride begins to slow, making the pair separate and look around curiously. When they realize that it was intentional and their consecutive rides are over they both sigh with disappointment.

“This is probably a very good thing.” He says in a low husky voice as his neon green glowing blue eyes find hers while he helps her sit back straight and wraps both of his arms around her again.

She pouts and sighs as she leans back against him. “Yeah?”

He nuzzles into her neck, his hot breath pushing through her hair and caressing her skin as he mumbles against her. “Ayuh. I kinda forgot where we were and was going to take you right on this damn lobster.”

A huge smile splits her face as she lets out a sudden laugh, quickly scrambling to cover her mouth with one hand.

~Chris~

The ride finally slows to a stop and he frowns when he sees her bare hand cupping her face. Before he can speak she pulls out her phone and leans back as she holds it up to take some pictures of the two of them. Finally satisfied with her efforts, MC puts it into her jacket pocket and gives him a sweet smile.

Without a word he slides off the back of the lobster and helps her down. When her feet hit the ground he reaches into her jacket pocket and she gives him a playful look as her head tilts to the side to gain his attention.

When his eyes meet hers he shrugs and pulls out her gloves without a sound. She holds up her hands and he gently slides the gloves on, slipping his fingers between hers to make sure they were snug and wrapped fully around each digit. She leans over and kisses him softly on the cheek before reaching up to lift his hat and flip it to face forward.

He watches her as she tussles his hair before putting the hat back down. Her eyes are focused and intense as she works, another thing he loves about her. She works so hard at everything and he loves it. Chris sighs blissfully when he thinks of how he feels about her.

MC’s eyes flick to his and she gives him a curious look. “You okay?”

“Never better.” He says calmly and with all sincerity.

They stand there as she studies his face until interrupted by the approaching couples. Ethan pats him on the back and they all turn to exit the ride. The group walks a few blogs to jump on the Orange Line to take them back to Boston College. The ride is a little long, but it’s relaxing as the group chats about the day, sharing memories and pictures. The girls end up huddling together as they collectively access their social media pages, tagging and commenting on all the amusing images from the day.

The guys line up on the opposite side as they discuss the possibility of working out the next morning again, how their coaches are running things differently and more. Chris’s gaze occasionally looks across the train to watch MC as she interacts with Steph and Jade. She’s so happy, laughing at their comments and pictures, enjoying the memories they've made over the small trip. He smiles.

Chris can’t help it as he zones out, no longer really listening to Scotty and Ethan as he thinks about the next trip they will take together. It’s fuzzy, but he remembers MC asking him about spring break the previous night before he fell asleep. He thought it was a dream at first, but then remembered the way she smelled when he kissed her neck and he knew then that it was real.

Eventually the train makes it to the Boston College light rail station and they disembark. Scotty and Jade say goodbye as they head across the street to the BC campus. Ethan and Steph start walking towards her apartment a few blocks east, quietly talking as she wraps her arms around his pocketed one.

~MC~

Chris glances at MC and sees her shivering in the cold air. He stops and turns her to face him before reaching over to pick her up, effortlessly wrapping her legs around him. She immediately forms to him, tightening her arms and legs around his solid frame as he starts walking again. Her warm breath trails across his neck as she burrows in, sighing with relief as she begins to siphon his warmth.

The small group arrives at the building and heads inside. MC takes off her gloves and jacket but still feels cold, even inside the warm apartment. She decides a hot shower will help and says goodnight as she heads down the hallway. Ethan and Steph talk quietly with Chris as she goes into their room to grab some clothes. She doesn't notice if they are still in the living area when she crosses the hall, focused on the hot water that's about to warm her flesh.

She runs her hand under the water as it heats up and removes her clothes before climbing in. As she reaches to slide the curtain close a warm hand wraps around hers and she jumps before awkwardly trying to cover herself.

“Shit. Sorry.” Chris says apologetically.

MC instantly relaxes and breathes out a heavy breath. He removes his underwear and climbs in behind her, closing the curtain as she turns to soak under the steaming water. As she closes her eyes she feels his large hands on her shoulders, kneading the muscles as he moves up and down her back.

He slides his palms around her front and she leans into him as they step closer to the warm water. Chris continues to rub on her warming skin, humming against her neck as he helps the water warm her. He reaches up and moves her hair back, trying to keep it out of the water if possible as he continues to rub her body.

MC relaxes even more, her lips parting as he begins to slowly kiss back and forth from neck to shoulder. She relaxes so much that she halfway loses her footing and slides across the bottom of the tub.

Chris quickly slips his arms around her, holding her to him as he lets out a soft laugh. “Alright, I hope you're warm beautiful, because I’m taking you to bed before you fall out of the shower.”

She shakes her head in an attempt to wake up and lets out a tired laugh. “Aye, aye, Captain.”

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