#also some of the songs on there only make sense to me so good luck | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

eff4freddie · 6 months ago

Text

Privates

Joel Miller AU x Javier Pena x AFAB Reader/You

Word count: 9k

Joel takes a second job at the local strip club, hoping to cover Sarah's fees for her fancy new private school. He just has to make sure no one's gettin' too rowdy, and watch out for the girls. It would be really simple. If it weren't for you.

Warnings: porn with plot, this is a Joel Miller story but it's about a strip club so obviously Javi is there, reader is a stripper, no shame get your dollars ladies, MMF, Oral (f receiving), slow burn then smut, also a couple of other cameos, reader has limited physical descriptions other than in reference to her lady parts, this is really filthy even for me, pining while Joel really trying to hang on to some semblance of morals, Javi says maybe two words? Explicit. Minors DNI.

He thought his hearing was bad before he took the job, that years of construction work; drilling, hammering, screaming at Tommy for fucking up the A-frame, would be the thing that robbed him of one of his more essential senses. But it turned out it wasn’t that, it was the incessant bass, the thrum of the sub-woofer reverberating around his skull. The way he felt it jolt his spine, Mikey the DJ hell-bent on obliterating the patron’s ability to think straight with sound alone, as if the watered down booze wasn’t toxic enough to cloud their judgement.

But Sarah needed to go to the fancy school, the one with the uniforms and the shiny brochures, and he hadn’t figured it would be all that mentally taxing. He could do without the late nights at his age, but he got paid after-hours rates to basically walk around and look menacing, and only once or twice a night did he have to actually step in and boot a guy. Sarah had just joined the debate team. Like she needed any help with arguin’.

He'd only told a handful of friends, Tommy so that he knew if he was late to a job it wasn’t because he was on a bender but just because he was working late, a couple of the guys at poker night because he thought they might get a kick out of it. They had, immediately asking him to get them in without the cover charge. He’d refused, but in a good-natured way, and so far they’d steered clear of the place.

He wasn’t sure why he was shy about it, if that’s what it was. Giving the air of authority, trying to be respectful while the girls did their work. He mostly ignored the stage, felt his cheeks burn if he happened to look up to see a girl bent over, thong waving in a guy’s face. He scanned the floor, walked the halls outside the privates, kept his eye on the clock and the bar, waited for his break so he could take a load off and get away from the kick drum assaulting his temples.

The guys kept telling him he’d won the lottery, lucked out on a dream job. And he would agree, except for you.

He’d met you on his third shift, right when he was allowed to walk the floor without a supervisor. He was already learning how to read the floor, how to pick up on cues from the girls that a guy was trouble, was figuring out that just standing with a scowl on his face and his black shirt on in a darkened room was often times enough to keep a blowhard in line. He was getting used to the girls tipping him at the end of a shift, although it felt weird to take their money when he’d just seen how they made it. He was getting used to the dull ache in his knees, in the soles of his feet, reminding himself not to complain when he saw the six-inch plastic heels the girls traded in.

He was learning that each girl picked their music, that often times the songs they chose reflected their dance personas, the girls dancing to pop songs going for the cutesy vibe, the girls dancing to heavy guitar riffs and shouty lyrics dressed up in black and red lace, dangerous and menacing. He was getting used to the way the room shifted in response to whatever was going on stage, was noticing he needed to pay more attention when the younger-looking girls, the blondes in pigtails, took to the stage.

He felt the room go quiet, a kind of hush when your name was called. The shift was enough to make him pause, mid-stride, moving his gaze from a man trying to buy a drink for a girl he suspected was under 21, to the stage. The heavy bass hit him in the chest, the stage lights purple and red, when you emerged, thigh first, from behind the tatty little red curtain. You were all hips and cleavage, all gentle curves and smooth lines, skin glowing and buttery soft under the stage lights. You moved slowly, your hands ghosting over your breasts, as you made eye contact with every patron in the room, your red painted lips curling into a knowing smile as you regarded them, as you took purchase of them, as you measured them and found them all wanting. You were selecting your prey, he could see it in your eyes, and he was fully prepared for your gaze to skip over him, to see his outfit of black and his number around his neck and know that he was a non-starter, except that as soon as your eyes landed on him they stared there, and he could swear you added an extra little wiggle in your hips for him, an exaggerated dip as you held the pole to you and swivelled around it, as you winked at him, fucking winked right there in public like it wasn’t the most obscene thing you could have done in this environment, and he felt it then, that the two of you were in it together, that you had let him in on the grift, that if you were his Bonnie he would do everything he could to be your Clyde.

He turned as you got busy, gave you the privacy he felt you deserved as you shimmied your skirt down, and he found he had no idea where to look now, had forgotten his rotation, had been thrown completely from his rounds. He wanted a shot of hard whiskey, the proper shit that they kept for the high-rollers, he wanted to go out the back to the employee bathroom and dunk his head into the sink. He wanted to march up that stage and pull you off it, bundle you into his car and disappear with you into the night, his fingers nestled in your wet, wanting cunt as he drove, claiming it back from all the men you’d ever shown it to.

He balled up his fist, wondering what exactly had just fuckin’ happened to him, lifted a hand to rub at the back of his neck. Out of the corner of his eye he could see you revolving around the pole, your legs curling into the air in front of you so that, if he were to look, he would get a perfect view of Eden between your thighs.

He figured he should check the back room. It had probably been a while since anyone had.

You weren’t there every night. From askin’ around, none too subtly he suspected, he’d learned you were studying your master’s degree, taking classes in the daytime then coming by to work some shifts. You’d been there for a while, degrees are long and hard to get, and you mostly kept to yourself. Sometimes on slow nights you read your textbook in the dressing room until someone dropping cash came by. He felt his pulse quicken at this, at the earnestness of it, the innocence in it, and he resolved then that it would go no further. He would stop. He wouldn’t check the roster to see which nights you were working, wouldn’t watch the back door until he saw you appear, bundled up in a winter jacket and a heavy bag over your shoulder, in sneakers and jeans and somehow all the sexier for it, wouldn’t make shitty mistakes on the job site because he was distracted, waiting for your next shift to roll around, wouldn’t stalk the floor sullen and moody on the nights you weren’t in. He would do none of that, because he was too old for a schoolboy crush, because you were both working professionals, colleagues even, because it could never go anywhere without some sort of destruction, because Sarah was doing so damn well in her new school.

He watched out for you. That was his job, to watch out for all the girls. He watched out for you when you started to approach a guy who was already four drinks deep and threatening to get handsy, stepping in before you got to him to redirect him to a glass of water, then the door. He watched out for you when another girl got too drunk or too high and started causing a scene right beside where you were standing at the bar, pulling her away gently by the biceps before she could shatter a bottle and ricochet any glass into your general direction. He watched your back when you were in the privates, kept a respectable distance outside the open doorway, the little U-shaped couches meaning often times all he could see were the guy’s legs, sometimes the cream of your thighs as they dangled over his, the curve of your calf easing into the point of your heel. He watched out for you as you retreated to the dressing room for a break, kept an eye on the door to make sure no patrons tried to slip in while you were resting. He steered clear of the dressing room itself. That was your private space, you and all the girls. He had a little office back there, but he would just make sure to take everything he needed with him at the start of his shift, take his breaks in the back room amongst the toilet rolls and broken sound equipment.

He watched out for you when he wouldn’t let you tip him, figuring you needed it for school, gently pushing your hand away when you tried to pass him a twenty at the end of every shift.

Sunday nights were dead. Most of the girls never worked it, preferring instead the busier nights, the bucks’ parties and the bigger crowds. There was only a small subset of girls who worked the Sundays, the ones who tended to have regulars come in to visit them, the ones who liked the chilled-out vibe a little more, who used the downtime to practice new tricks on the pole or discuss hair removal and boob jobs right there on the floor. Those were the nights when he felt everyone was a little more themselves, that the grift was a little lesser, when the patrons were generally more well behaved so the girls could let their guards down. No one felt like getting up to all that much bullshit on a Sunday.

But his feet didn’t know any of that, protesting all the same despite the more relaxed vibes, and he was hovering behind one of the booths on the floor resting his hip on it to ease the pressure off one foot for a moment, before shifting his weight to the other. This little method meant he could stay standing, more or less in the same position, for sometimes up to an hour. But on the quiet nights, with so many empty booths around, it was all the harder to resist just sinking down into the cushions and stopping the blood pooling in his shoes.

Candy Jane was on stage, shifting her hips without much conviction, a couple of regulars already with their girls. He could see you, propped up in a corner booth, your eyes on the stage but unmoving. He thought you looked tired, wondered if your feet were hurting as much as his were, and he thought long and hard about sliding in beside you, pulling you into his lap and nudging your head onto his shoulder.

You looked up, then, swivelling your eyes to him and he felt his stomach drop. He was about to start another round of the privates just for something to do but you were getting up on your feet, strolling over to him, the singles and twenties strapped to your thigh by your garter.

‘Joel,’ you said, grabbing his hand and pushing him into a booth behind him. ‘Come sit by me, I’m bored.’

He had seen you flirt with the patrons, a kind of hyper-sexualised bunny thing that promised them every sexual desire they could ask for without ever actually delivering, the art of the tease so acute in you that none of them seemed to even realise they’d been played. He marvelled at that, always kind of admired it, at the street smarts of the girls extracting money from the men who thought they had any power in the situation. He looked at you now, sitting an arm’s length away from him, and felt almost entirely under your spell.

‘Not s’posed to sit on the floor when I’m workin,’ he said, almost apologetic, and you shrugged your shoulders at him.

‘It’s dead, Joel-y,’ you said, and you weren’t flirting with him now, you were just yourself, and he liked you all the better this way, all the more for the earnestness of you, for this version of you none of the other men ever got to see.

‘Just don’t be offended if I have’ta get up and leave quick,’ he said, and you smiled at him.

‘I don’t think you could ever do anything offensive,’ you said, and you were kind of teasing him but also really meant it, and you watched him blush, shifting his body in his chair to face a little further from the stage. ‘Why don’t you watch?’ you asked, rolling your ankles and feeling the tendons stretch. You were hoping your regular would show up soon so you could finally earn something, the house fee already putting you in the red.

‘S’not right to watch, not here for my…jollies,’ he finished, and you grinned at him.

‘Your jollies?’ you teased. He huffed out a shy laugh, looking down at his lap.

‘Y’know what I mean,’ he went on. ‘M’workin’, we’re all workin’.

‘You aren’t curious to take a peek?’ you asked, leaning closer to him. If he was a better man, he would have been able to resist the urge to peak down the top of your dress, the silly little spandex straps barely holding you in, your tits heaving with your breath and with how heavily you were teasing him.

‘Course I am,’ he confessed, almost hissing it out over the bass thumping through his body.

‘A man of principles,’ you appraised, moving back to give him a little break, wondering if he was hard yet. You knew he watched you closely, knew that he lingered outside the doorway for you more than any other girl when you were in a private, knew that he was going out of his way not to look at you when you danced on stage, and the innocence of it, the thrill of it when you had everyone else’s attention except his, it fascinated and annoyed and scolded you, tickled you around the collarbone. You watched as he scratched at the salt and pepper patches dotting his jaw, at how he swallowed so hard his muscle ticked and strained under the force of it.

‘Why don’t you take my tips?’ you asked. Candy’s dance slot was nearly over, and you were waiting to see Destiny. She’d promised to show you one of her new pole tricks hanging inverted, and even after all this time you still hadn’t worked up the courage to do that.

‘You need to save ‘em up, get your degree,’ he answered, without thinking, finding it so hard to think through the want for you, for the proximity of you, now that he could smell your perfume and feel your body heat along his side.

‘You know about that?’ you asked, surprised.

Oh shit, he thought. Just like that he’d fucked it.

‘One of the other guards, he mentioned it. Said he saw you reading a textbook one time,’ he covered, as quickly as he could given the circumstances. You nodded at him, as if this satisfied you, but he wasn’t sure if he’d actually pulled it off. His throat was dry, and it was so hot in the club, was it always this hot in the damn club? First chance he got he was gonna call his HVAC guy.

‘What are you studying?’ he asked, but you were smiling then, eyes bright and over his shoulder.

‘Hey, Javi!’ you squealed, giggling and rising from the booth, pushing your chest out and wiggling towards the man Joel had come to recognise as your regular. The lucky bastard always wore aviators, his jeans so tight Joel was surprised he didn’t burst a button when he got a hard on, his moustache quirking up in greeting to you. Joel wondered if you would ever squeal and rush towards him like that, not caring for one second that it was just part of the grift.

You’re not on shift, haven’t been on shift for a week, and his bones itch under his skin, his feet pacing up and down the carpet outside the privates, patrolling the floor like it insulted him. He hates that he checks the roster at the start of every shift and doesn’t see your name listed, hates that he’s worried about you; that you’re sick, that you’re hurt, that you’ve fucking left. He’s useless at his real job, nearly degloving his entire hand with a band saw he was so distracted wondering if he’d see you that night. This can’t go on, and he knows that, but he just needs to know what happened to you, just needs to know that you’re OK, and then he can get back to being dead inside.

Because that’s what you’ve done to him, he realises. You’ve made him feel alive. He can’t resent you for it, you didn’t know it was what you’d done, but it sets his teeth on edge and it unnerves him in a way that makes him consider quitting, finding another club, maybe not a titty-bar, maybe something he can actually put on his resume. He considers it while simultaneously knowing he won’t do it, would never do it, that he’s too far gone even while he can’t go any further.

He stops checking the roster. It hurts in a way he can’t quite get his head around, a pain he doesn’t have any room to accommodate sitting tight and hot in his chest. He keeps his eyes on the patrons and the clock. He takes his breaks in the back room. He feels tired down to the bone.

Two weeks after he’d last seen you, he starts his shift the way he always does, going into the back before too many girls arrive to put his bag in his locker and fill his pockets with whatever he’ll need for the rest of the night. He’s busy trying to put a protein bar in his pocket in such a way that it doesn’t look like he has a hard on when he hears footsteps behind him.

‘Joel-y’, you say, and he swings his head towards the sound so hard he thinks he hears something snap. You’re smiling at him, dressed in your jeans and a Fleetwood Mac tee, and he has to consciously remind his heart to keep beating. You’re holding one of your enormous heels in your hand.

‘Where have you been?’ he blurts out, not caring that he sounds needy. You blink at him, surprised.

‘You missed me?’ you ask, and you’re teasing him but he doesn’t care, because he’s glad all over that you’re back and he’ll take all the sass in the world from you if you just stay there.

‘You didn’t…’ Didn’t what, he thinks. Didn’t check in with me? Say goodbye? There’s no reason why you would have. Didn’t promise you weren’t grossed out by him, that he’d made you so uncomfortable you’d gone to work at another club? ‘You didn’t mention you were taking a break,’ he said, eventually.

‘Oh, I had mid-terms,’ you say, breezily. He’s stepping out of his little office now, trying to put space between you before he says something else blatantly insane and stupid, hoping to go back to just looking at you from dark corners while he furtively hopes you don’t see.

‘Wait,’ you say to him, grabbing him by the arm. You hold your shoe up, and he can see where the strap has come away from the base. He takes it from you, feels the brush of your fingertips as he does it, tries to ignore the little flip in his tummy.

‘Leave it with me,’ he says, stepping towards the backroom where he knows there’s superglue. ‘You got another pair?’

‘Yeah, but those are my favourites,’ you say, looking up at him carefully, watching his face for something. You haven’t got your heavy stage make-up on yet, haven’t curled your hair into gentle waves, and you’re so beautiful like this, he thinks, when he can see the actual colour of your lips, your cheeks.

‘Twenty minutes,’ he says. You smile at him. He wonders if you’ll put your hand on his arm again. You turn away.

In the backroom he sits on an upturned milk crate, holding the strap to the base so the superglue will affix to it. If he had his tools he would try and nail it down, but there’s a chance he could shatter the base and these heels seem expensive for something that makes all you girls look so darn cheap.

Your shoes are so small in his hands, and he imagines just for a second its your foot he’s cradling in his lap. He has the presence of mind just enough to wonder what fucked up version of Cinderella he’s trying to live.

He checks the strap, pulls hard on it three times, before he’s satisfied enough to give it back to you.

He realises his error, but it’s too late to do anything about it now. He had mentioned to the guys at poker that Sundays were the quiet ones, that the music was just low enough to be able to think, that the girls mostly entertained themselves while their regulars paid them to chat, sometimes to dance. Where you could always get a seat at the tipping rail, could even swing a three song dance out of a twenty if the girl was bored enough.

He feels the drop in his stomach when he sees them, approaching the bar en masse. He can’t remember where you are, he’d lost sight of you between the booths on the floor and the privates, and he tries to remember what time your stage slot was, having checked the roster again despite swearing black and blue he wouldn’t. They haven’t seen him yet, and he wonders if he can just slip out the back and make a break for it, tell them he was sick so he wasn’t working, and they need to fucking call him first. He knows them, knows that they’re not bad guys, that they’re here to keep him company and maybe see some butt while they’re at it. But it stirs in him a deep panic, that they will see you, that they’ll get their eyes on you before he’s really even let himself have a chance to, before he can make you all his own.

A silly little delirious part of him, right at the back of his skull, whispers that it’ll make your wedding really awkward. He shoos it away like an errant mosquito.

Benny sees him, then, is waving him over.

‘Joel, we made it!’ he yells over the music, the guys turning to him to welcome him into the circle. Tommy is already at the bar ordering the beers, but he nods to his big brother. Joel worries for a second that you’ll like his brother better, before he remembers you don’t even like him at all.

He stalks over to him, his jaw aching from the strain, while he looks through the darkness to try and find you. He’ll just have to run interference for a while, keep them busy while you work the floor, try and bundle them back out into the cold before your stage slot.

‘Gentlemen,’ he says, laced with irony, and they’re slapping him on the back, welcoming him in. He reminds himself these guys are mostly Tommy’s friends. Wouldn’t be that sad if he never saw them again.

Frankie tries to hand him a beer but he pushes it away. ‘Workin’.’ He says, simply.

‘More f’me,’ Frankie grins from under his cap.

‘So where’s the best place to sit?’ Benny asks, surveying the room. There are a couple of girls walking the floor, Amber on the stage twisting her hips to the music while staring out over all of their heads.

‘You gotta tip if you sit on the rail,’ Joel says, simply, and Benny nods.

‘I got singles!’ Pope says, ever the responsible one, always the one planning. ‘Sorry, hermano, not enough for you.’ Joel grins at him. Pope can stay, he thinks. Pope will keep his mouth shut.

‘Look, you sit in that booth there,’ Joel says, pointing them to the centre of the room, ‘you can see the stage perfect. You wanna tip a girl though, you gotta get up onta the rail, make sure they know about it.’ He leans in a little, like he’s sharing a secret. ‘These girls work real hard. Make sure you treat ‘em right, ok? They’re good girls. Smart girls. You don’t come here just to look and not sling ‘em some hard earned.’

‘Yes sir,’ Pope says, making a salute that Joel considers might actually be real. He can’t be sure. Tommy was the one who spent a few years in the army with them, not him.

‘Vamos!’ Pope calls, rounding them up and shoving them down onto the cushions. Now Joel just needs to figure out where you are.

You keep fuckin’ evading him. One minute you’re in a private, the next you’re at the bar chatting to a patron, trying to get him to buy off the top shelf. Electra is on the stage, and Tommy is entranced by her, the bills practically falling out of his hands while she bends to pick them up with her teeth. It’s distracting Joel, trying to keep an eye on them while also trying to keep distance between you, and the boys are inviting girls over to them, beckoning to them from the stage to come sit by them, and he knows it’s not long before your dance slot is up, knows that as soon as they see you they’ll want you, that they’ll beckon you over, that you’ll fuckin’ go.

He can’t be everywhere, can’t keep doing his job while also trying to manage this situation, has to keep pacing the privates to keep the other patrons in line. He never thought there’d be a time that he wished that fuckin’ Javi guy would show up just to keep you out of sight for a while.

They keep calling to him, too, trying to get him to come over and sit down no matter how many times he explains to them he’s working, that the girls need him to keep an eye on things. Will’s trying to keep a straight face but he’s snickering up at him, and Joel wonders what’s so damn funny.

‘Bet you do keep an eye on things,’ he grins, a little shit-eating thing that makes Joel’s hand curl into a fist. He shakes it loose, the music making it so hard to think, jarring his nervous system. He’s about to say something, about to find a reason to throw the lot of them out, when your name gets called over the loudspeaker. You’re being called to the stage. You’re up next. On the stage.

He has approximately thirty seconds to do something. He is completely rooted to the spot. At the tipping rail his little brother is waiting, dollars in hand. He thinks he might pass out or puke, possibly both and not in that order. His head is swimming. ‘Not like this,’ he thinks. He just doesn’t want you to meet his friends like this.

‘Holy shit,’ he hears Pope say, and he turns to the stage. Your thigh is appearing around the curtain, the shoe he fixed for you running up and down its raggedy edge. You’re all swagger and tits tonight, your hair swept over one eye, and he’s transfixed for a second, completely unable to move, as you shimmy up to the centre of the stage, take the pole in your hand and swivel, kicking your legs out behind you so that you corkscrew down to your knees. Pope is moving to the tipping rail, Benny following close behind. Tommy is leaning forward on his elbows, pulled in by you almost on instinct, and you’ve clocked him now, crawling on your hands and knees towards him.

For a second, Joel sees you pause, studying Tommy’s face, before you search for him in the crowd. You’ve noticed the family connection, and he freezes, terrified of your reaction. Are you going to be angry? Feel betrayed? Hurt that he’s brought his friends here to ogle you, to watch your hips shimmy and your tits bounce? Has he broken some kind of professional code, could he get fuckin’ fired for this, will you never speak to him again? He tries to communicate to you with his eyes that he didn’t bring them here, that he doesn’t want this, that whatever the fuck’s going on with these guys he wants no part in it. He wants you to know he sees you, you in jeans and a tee shirt, that it’s that you he wants.

For a long moment you stare at each other, Joel’s pulse heavy and thick in his ears. You lean back, rear up so that all your weight is on your knees. You run your hand up your side and into your mouth where you bite down on your index finger. You keep your eyes fixed right on his. You wink.

So, this is what its like to have a heart attack, Joel thinks. It’s slower than he expected. It’s been hours, and the guys are still here, and by some stroke of divinity or possible the opposite, so is he.

The number of times he’s reminded the guys they have work in the morning. How he’s complained that the music is giving him a headache, and man that pounding base makes it hard to think, and wouldn’t it be fun if they all went to a sports bar, see if the replay of the Knicks game is on? But they can’t leave yet, won’t leave, because they want to see you on stage again, want one last look at your creamy thighs and your bucking hips before they go home and jerk off thinking of their tongues in your cunt. He’s going to have an aneurysm right here on the goddamn floor of this fuckin’ strip club. Sarah’s gonna find out where he’s been workin’ all this time.

The one thing his brother has done for him, the one thing Tommy has done right in his life, is to lay down a rule before they got there that they can’t get any private dances.

‘Didn’t come out here to see ya’ll with hard-ons’, he reminds them, and they snicker but begrudgingly agree, and Joel won’t lie that he feels a surge of pride in his fuckin’ idiot baby brother and his one good idea.

Joel knows the girls are on a roughly two-hour rotation, that by the end of the night all of them will have been on stage about three times. The only problem is that if a girl’s in a private she gets skipped until she’s ready, so sometimes some girls might even need to do more. It seems especially cruel to him that if a girl’s having a bad night, not reeling anything in, not making any money on her own that she gets paraded out even more to the baying crowds of disinterested patrons. He’s seen a few girls with tears in their eyes on the way to the dressing room, complaining of an off night. He’s been around long enough to know that these happen, that there’s no rhyme or reason to them really, just that sometimes that particular girl just isn’t flavour of the night. He’s never seen it with you, though. Never seen you fail to take a man by the hand and lead him down the dark corridor to the u-shaped couches if you deem him worthy. It burns him up with jealousy and also he’s proud of you for it. His good girl taking no prisoners.

He wonders if he can tell the DJ to take you off the rotation, if you’ll notice if you just don’t get called again, but he also knows it would be messing with your money, that Pope and Benny and Will are making good on their promise to tip well. That you’ve got bills and a college degree to earn, that the fact that he’s sick in the guts with a jealous want doesn’t matter, should never be part of the equation when it comes to you.

He does another round, still hoping to see you, still hoping to find you in a private somewhere, but you’ve made yourself scarce and he wonders if it’s because of him, because of his friends being here, worries that he’s embarrassed you. There’s only one other place you could be, tucked away in the dressing room hiding out, unless you’ve just got dressed and left completely, not even bothering with the attempt to tip him tonight.

He shouldn’t but also he needs to, knocks hard on the door and calls out that it’s him before he pushes it open. With all the lights on around the mirrors the place has a warm glow, and he scans quickly to make sure he’s alone before he pushes himself into the room. You’re not here, either, which means he doesn’t know where you are, and he feels a little flare of panic in his sternum. He rests his hand on it, trying to steady his catching breath. He should check the roster. Maybe you had an early finish.

He nearly steps on you when he rounds the corner into his little office. You’re lying flat on your back on the floor, headphones over your ears. For a terrible second he thinks you’ve passed out in here before he realises you’re tapping your feet, your head swaying back and forth to the music only you can hear. He leans down and pushes, gentle, at your shoulder. Your eyes snap open and you startle, pulling the headphones free.

‘Jesus,’ you say, and he steps back again, hangs around the door.

‘Sorry,’ he says, hands up in appeasement. ‘Didn’t mean to scare ya.’

‘No, no, I’m sorry,’ you say, scrambling to stand. Your heels are catching on the carpet and you waver, Joel coming forward to steady you. ‘Sometimes I come by here and stretch out my back a little, the heels are…hard work,’ you say, and he realises you’re blushing, that you think he’s mad. He shakes his head at you, brows saddled.

‘S’ok,’ he says, not letting go of your arm.

‘You’re just not normally in here,’ you say, and you look up at him then, fixing your eyes on his.

‘You can come here any time you like,’ he says. Wants to add that everything you ever wanted he will get for you, that anything you ever asked he would do.

‘-nks,’ you say, feeling shy all of a sudden, realising the size of his hands for the first time.

‘I didn’t know they were comin’,’ he says, trying to keep his voice steady, and you blink for a second, trying to understand. ‘I didn’t invite ‘em, they just showed up.’

‘So, he is your brother,’ you say, smiling now. Joel nods his head at you, his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.

‘He’s cute,’ you say. ‘Runs in the family.’

Joel grunts at this, can’t quite believe he’s heard it, tries really hard to think straight. You’re wearing practically nothing in his little office on a quiet Sunday night while his brother and four of his friends throw dollars at random half-naked women. It’s a lot to take in.

‘They’re not getting dances,’ you observe, and Joel shakes his head.

‘Their decision, outta respect or somethin’, I guess.’

‘Respect for you?’ you clarify.

‘Each other, I think.’

‘Oh, that’s silly,’ you say. He feels the heat up his neck, a bloom of something worrisome in his tummy. ‘That’s like going to Disneyland and not getting on any of the rides.’

‘I’m gonna have to beg you to rephrase that,’ Joel says, and you grin at him. He can see that flirty sex bunny emerging in you again, can see that you’re up to somethin’, his brain too addled with the smell of you in his office to figure what.

You’re so fuckin’ pretty when you smile, your little dimple on your right cheek popping up when you’re thinking of something sneaky. He wants to kiss it every morning in the warm light of dawn. Wants you wrapped up in his sheets, hair stretched over his pillow, his hands on your tummy and your breast while he eases his fingers between your thighs.

‘Breaks over then, I guess,’ you say, and you’re practically bouncing out of the room now, his brain working just enough to remind him to follow you. He’s three or four paces behind, alarmed at how fast you can go with those heels on, and he sees it now, that you’re making a beeline for them, that you’re a woman on a mission to finally tip him over the edge, to send him right to his grave.

He can only watch, helplessly, trying to figure which one you’ll reach for. Prays it’s not Tommy. Or Will. Or Benny. Or fuckin’ Frankie. For some reason he thinks Pope might be OK. He watches, his pulse hard and racing in his throat, as you approach, six paces from them, then four, then three. Tommy’s noticed you, is pushing back his chair.

And right before you get to them, right before you’re within grasping reach of his brother, you turn, pivot on your heel to the bar, where fuckin’ Javi is waiting for you, cigarette hanging out of his mouth and beer in hand, one knee cocked to the side. You melt into his arms, resting your head on his shoulder, and somehow Joel is relieved and also it’s so much fucking worse then he could ever imagine, burns him brighter than if you had chosen one of his friends, knows that it’s both a lifeline and a spool of barbed wire you’ve thrown him, knows that he’s latched onto it anyway, can feel the tug and tear of his skin.

He's hovering outside the privates. His friends have finally packed it in, it’s nearing 1 AM, and in all the commotion he’d forgotten that his feet are killing him, and they’re really crying for his attention now. But he ain’t leavin’ you alone with that Javi guy, doesn’t trust the way his shirts never fuckin’ fit.

He’s so tired, the adrenaline of the night leaking out of him just to leave him wavering and empty, and he feels like he’s on his last nerve, the stress of the evening, the strangeness of it, wearing him down to the stub. But your little shoe sat right in the palm of his hand, but you went to this office to relax when you thought he wouldn’t know about it, but you fuckin’ winked at him like the rest of the room wasn’t even goddamn there, and he ain’t leavin’ you now.

And if he leans on the wall a little, takes the weight off one foot and transfers it up into his shoulder, if he cocks his head to the side, he can just peek you, see Javi’s tight jeans and the plush of you bottom as you grind it on him, your arms up over your head to make your sweet little tits sway in his face.

He shouldn’t be hard at work. Shouldn’t be leaning like this, crowding himself into the corner to get a better look. He knows there are camera in the hallways, as much to keep an eye on the staff as to keep a watch on the patrons, and he knows that somewhere footage is being collected of him right now peeping in on you. He doesn’t fuckin’ care. He can see the way your stockings are banding too tight across your thighs, and he wants to sooth the skin with his tongue, pull the nylon off you and kiss his way around the angry red rings in your flesh. He can see your hips rocking to the music, your hair swaying down your back. Your hands moving to grasp behind you, pushing your chest up and out into Javi’s face.

And he sees it then, the way Javi’s hands are hovering, lifting off the couch and threatening to come down on your skin. The club has a strict no-touchin’ policy, it was drilled into him on his first day. That’s an infraction worthy enough to get him booted out of here, never allowed to set foot in this fine establishment of dirty tomfoolery ever again. Joel swallows, his eyes now fixed on Javi’s hands, waiting for the moment they brush against your soft, glittering skin, takes a step forward towards the doorway, doesn’t even notice that you’ve pivoted, your hands on Javi’s knees as you grind your bottom down, leaning back to rest your head on Javi’s shoulder. Locking eyes with Joel.

His cock is throbbing in time to the music. The bass thrums in his chest. You hook your knees over Javi’s, first the left then the right, and push them open just enough to give Joel a tease. You’re still in your thong but it’s enough for Joel to see the sheen of the fabric, that you’re wet down there in the valley between your thighs. He licks his lips, a hand coming to rest on his chest, as he gazes at you with the kind of want that sets your nervous system on fire.

You’re swivelling your hips on Javi, can feel that he’s hard underneath you, but you want it to be Joel, want more than his eyes on you now that you’ve got them, want his hands and his tongue and his cock. You whimper, and you hear Javi groan behind you, as if any of this is for him. Javi pulls his knees further apart, unknowingly opens you up for Joel, and there’s a moment where you feel more naked then when you’re topless in front of fifty strange men. Joel has stripped you bare, to the quick. You can see how fast he’s breathing by the way his hand rises and falls on his chest. You time your movements to it, jerk your hips as if he’s breathing his touch into you from across the room.

Except he’s mad, now, you can see the way his brows have furrowed, the way his jaw has set, and you’re too hot and too overwhelmed to realise until the last moment that Javi has his hands on you, is cupping your breasts from behind, trying to reach from behind to tweak your nipples, pulling you further down into his chest to rub more fully on his cock.

Joel’s with you in four strides and you reach for him, both arms lifting up to his as he wrenches you free, screams at Javi to back off, pulls you behind him and shields you with his body while he threatens to beat Javi to a pulp before throwing him out onto the street, then beating him to death where the cameras don’t point.

‘You don’t fuckin’ touch her,’ he’s yelling, and he can feel that his throat is raw, dry, but he can’t fuckin’ think over the crushing beat in his ears, realises after a couple of stilted moments that it’s not the music that’s deafening him but that it’s his heart, that he’s vibrating with fury and want, that Javi has backed up a bit on the couch and lifted his hands in the air but hasn’t scurried away, that he’s not scared or worried at all, that he got to put his hands on heaven and will do nothing to apologise for it, and something snaps in Joel, something feral and needy and primal, something that has been chewing at the bars of its cage for months.

He pulls you to him and you gasp, can feel Joel’s pulse through your back as he manoeuvres you to rest on his chest, lifts one foot up onto the couch while he strips your thong from you, spreads you open for Javi, your body weight leaning on his as he holds you with just one arm around you.

‘This is how you fuckin’ touch her,’ Joel seethes, pushing his hand down over your belly and onto your waiting cunt, cupping your slit and teasing the slick gathering there up and over your clit. You gasp, the leg you have planted on the floor shaking as he strums, gently but somehow so firm, and you can feel yourself opening up to him, your cunt wet and aching, trying to draw him in.

‘You seein’ this, see how wet she gets for me?’ he’s saying, and you glance down to see that Javi is indeed watching, shock on his face and locked in a kind of paralysis, his eyes flicking between your cunt and Joel’s furious face. ‘You couldn’t get this from her,’ Joel is saying, and you’re leaning back into him because your knees are definitely going to buckle, but he holds you firm and steady, and you lift your face up to the ceiling and gasp.

Joel isn’t thinking, just listening to you, just letting his fingers finally touch what he’s dreamt about for months. Your sopping cunt is probably dribbling onto his pants and he doesn’t care, wants it there, wants you deep down in the fibres of the fabric where he’ll never scrub you free. You gasp again when he pushes two fingers in, feels your walls expand to accommodate him, raises the heel of his palm to ease the stretch by rubbing quick little circles on your clit.

‘Slide right in,’ he says, his unhinged commentary gritting out over the music, loud enough for just you and Javi to hear. ‘S’what happens when you’ve got her achin’ for ya,’ he says matter-of-factly.

You’re rolling your hips now, unable to help yourself as you arch your back, wanting to twist in his arms and sink your teeth into his neck, lick and lave at his collarbone, keen into his skin until the sound of it attaches itself to his bones.

‘Look at that pretty cunt,’ Joel is still saying, almost frantic now, the heat on his skin making it impossible to think of anything else, anything so complex as consequences. He’s lost in the touch of it, in the way Javi is looking at him imploringly, the way he can see that this pompous fuckin’ arsehole is getting a schoolin’ on pleasuring a woman, in the way you’re gasping and whimpering just for him. ‘S’mine,’ he says, twisting his fingers up to the knuckle in you, hooking into the spongey spot he knows will make you see stars.

He wants Javi to beg him to stop. Wants him to get down on his knees and apologise, wants him to swear he’ll never come back. But he’s distracted, because you’re calling to him now, the sound of your sweet cries of his name echoing through the vacant halls of his brain.

‘Joel-y’, you’re whimpering, babbling. ‘Joel-y, please,’ and you’re not even sure what you’re asking for, just that he’s torturing you, setting you on fire right here in the privates, that the pleasure he’s wringing from you is too much, too overwhelming, that you want to collapse into him but you’re still trying to bear some of your weight, that your thighs are wobbling and your body is screaming at you to let go but you can’t, not in this position, no matter how good it is, because you can’t get purchase, you can’t grind, the heel of his hand is too blunt on your clit.

He can sense it, that he’s trapped you right where it’s too much and not enough, and a part of him wants to leave you there, wants to make you feel what he’s felt all those weeks he spent waitin’ for ya, checkin’ that fucking roster like a goddamn fuckin’ dog, causin’ all those little fuck ups at the job site thinkin’ about this little cunt wrapped so tight around his knuckles.

But he’s not cruel.

‘Lick it,’ he barks out, gesturing down your body to Javi while he pushes you forward, shifts your weight more fully to the couch. You instinctually hook your knee over Javi’s shoulder, the extra leverage finally giving you purchase enough to properly move. ‘Suck her little clit ‘til she fuckin’ soaks me,’ Joel says, and there’s no arguing with him, not that you would, not that Javi would by the look on his face.

He's looking uncertain, like this might be a trap, and you reach down and grab his hair in your hand. ‘Please, Javi,’ you say, and he’s on you then, without further hesitation, his lips catching your little bud and grasping it between his teeth. You scream, feel Joel jostle you until your head is twisted around to bury in his neck, and you can feel more than hear the little rasps of encouragement as he talks you through it.

‘Such a good girl f’me,’ he’s saying, and you’re barely registering it, but your cunt is listening, clamping down hard on his fingers as Javi grips you with his mouth. ‘Teachin’ us both a thing or two, ain’t ya, baby? Showin’ us just how to treat a sexy little cunt like yours.’

You’re going to die. You’re going to burst into flames. There’s just no question in your mind that this is how you go, but you just fucking hope that you’ll get to come before it happens. It’s like every single nerve ending is now in your pussy, like you are only breathing Joel and Javi, your body sandwiched between them as you grip Javi’s head to you and twist in joyous agony against Joel’s chest.

‘Wanna hear you, baby,’ Joel’s whispering again. ‘Wanna hear it when ya come f’me.’

You open your eyes, look down your body to Javi, where he’s watching you, his eyes travelling up your body to rest on your face. He’s palming his cock, you can see the way his arm is moving up and down slowly, and you can feel Joel throbbing behind you.

‘Don’t look at him,’ Joel admonishes, and you slam your eyes shut, turn again to bury your head in his neck. ‘He can’t help ya,’ Joel goes on. ‘S’just there to make you come, baby.’

God it’s fucking debauched, is what it is. It’s filthy and sweaty and you’re so wet, and you feel sexier than you ever have, feel the power in your body and in your desire, feel the way you have finally, finally brought something feral out in Joel. You’re going to come, because Joel has determined that you are going to, and you just know without him even telling you so that he won’t let you go until you have, until he is satisfied that he has wrung out every last whimper from you, until you are sated and he is confident his job is done.

Javi’s licking hard at your clit now, sometimes sucking on it, and you slam your hips down onto Joel’s hand when he does it, rock your knee to bring Javi closer to you, try to swallow him with your cunt and your hands in his hair.

You can’t get enough breath to warn them. It’s just going to happen, they’re just going to throw you over the edge and into the abyss and you can’t even tell them they’re about to do it. Joel sees it though, feels the way your cunt is gripping him.

‘Do it, baby,’ he’s gritting into your ear, catching every roll of your hips so you won’t fall. ‘Show him what it’s like when I wreck you.’

And you do, then. Harder than you ever have in your life, your lungs pillowing out in your chest to suck in all the air available to them, your wails lost to the music as streams of your slick press into Javi’s face, where you soak him and Joel behind you, shivering and convulsing as you topple over the peak, dimly aware of Joel’s words in your ear as you go, calling you his pretty girl, his beautiful, perfect girl. His girl, his girl, his.

There are too many broken workplace safety rules to count, so Joel doesn’t bother. He knows he’s lost his job, that the cameras will have picked up all of that, that as he drops his ID badge and set of keys on the desk in his little office that it was worth it, that you were worth it. He’ll get another job, find a bar open just as late as this one even if it’s further out of town, will travel and will keep Sarah in school and will keep the memory of your sweet little cunt fluttering around his fingers locked up tight in the back of his brain for when the nights are cold and lonely.

When he drives you home, bundles you up in his car and puts the heater on full blast to keep you warm, you tell him that you finished your degree weeks ago, that you were lying about the mid-terms, that you had actually been down in Florida helping your mother move your grandpa into care. It hadn’t seemed necessary to talk about them in that environment, you said, and he rests his hand on your knee because he understands, and also because he likes you.

He doesn’t ask for your number. Knows you probably wouldn’t give it to him, is too afraid that you’d regret everything that you did together, that you were humouring him with even letting him drop you home, that this isn’t even your house.

He only found it later, written in your neat writing, your number and your real name, when he was stripping his pants off himself and dumping them into the hamper, his come collected on the inside where he exploded as he rutted against you, as he listened to your desperate, whimpering cries for him.

He tacks the little piece of paper to the mirror, memorising the digits in case one day it falls. He isn’t gonna call it. He just wants it there, a reminder of you and what you’ve made him feel, how you’ve lifted him, freed something in him. He just wants it there. Proof that you were real.

#joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller au #joel miller smut #javier pena x reader #javier pena smut #javier pena x you #joel miller x female reader

443 notes · View notes

yelenasdiary · 2 months ago

Note

Reader x Vampire!Kate at a halloween party where reader thinks Kate is just a hot girl in a really good vampire costume (instead of those crappy fake plastic teeth) and doesn’t realize until Kate is buried deep inside her, strap and teeth, that she just is an actual vampire

Hunger

Pairing: Vampire! Kate Bishop x GN! Reader

Summary: A fun hook up turns your life upside down.

Dark Angst, Smut 18+ ONLY! Minors & Men, DNI!!

Warnings: Top! Kate, Strap On Use, Oral (R Receiving), Fingering (R Receiving), Mentions of Blood, Kinda Murder? But also, Not? Mentions of drinking | 1.5K

AC: Thank you for sending this! I hope you enjoy! x

October Special Masterlist 2024

The room was vibrant with different costumes, small talk and chilling laughter. With a drink in your hand, your eyes were locked on the tall dark-haired woman from afar. You watched as she mingled with those around her while she sipped on the drink in the red plastic cup in her hand, just wondering who she was. Unable to take your eyes off her, you were glad you decided to go with dressing up as Wednesday Addams with some of the compliments you received from people passing by you.

“Your costume looks great! You’re killing it with that stare too!” One would comment, making you break character to give them a light chuckle and a thank you before your eyes would drift back to the unknown woman. With a few more sips of your drink, you decided to talk to her. Walking through the small crowd of people, you finally greeted her with a soft smile.

“I like your costume” you said, now closer to her you were able to really take in the detail she had put into the outfit. Her long cloak from afar looked black but up close you could tell it was a dark purple, the inside was a shade of lighter purple. “It’s the best I’ve seen here tonight” you added as she turned around to face you. Her purple vest stood out perfectly against the black shirt she wore underneath, you liked the fact she didn’t go for the standard black and red vampire look.

“Thank you” she smiled, “your costume is great! Can never go wrong with Wednesday” she added with a light chuckle. You couldn’t help notice how high quality her fangs were, they looked natural as if she was born with them.

“Oh this? Thanks! I just threw it together last minute”

“You must be one of many talents then” the woman whose blue eyes danced with the fairy lights that hung from the roof, smiled softly. “I’m Kate” she added.

“Y/n, this might be a little too forward but forgive me, can I get you a drink?” You offered. Kate nodded, “you’re in luck, I just finished mine”

You gave Kate a soft smile before you wandered over to the drinks table and pour the two of you a fresh drink before returning to her.

“So, Y/n, do you always stare at people at parties?” Kate asked, taking you by surprise.

“Oh, I’m so sorry” you said with light laughter, “I really was admiring the details of your costume. I thought I did a somewhat decent job at not making it obvious that I was staring” you add.

“It’s more of like a sixth sense, but I’m glad you like my costume” Kate smiled, easing your worries that you might have scared her off. The tips of her fangs piercing over her bottom lip gave you another reason to admire them once more before the soft sound of the next radio hit song started to play in the background. Kate’s head naturally starts bopping to the tune, “would you like to dance?” You asked.

“You dance, do you?” She questioned.

“Not the best but I’m pretty sure nobody will notice that since most people are already tipsy or drunk” you replied with a light chuckle.

“Maybe your moves will cover up my horrible moves then” Kate smiled once more before the two of you moved away from the corner of the room.

The cheap LED light strips flicker between red and orange colors, Kate’s hands placed on your hips while you twirl in her hands. She pulls you closer into her allowing you to press yourself up against her, there’s no point in acting as though you didn’t feel the packing bulge in her black jeans. You look up at her with a soft smirk, “sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you” Kate whispers, playfully.

“It’s a good startle” you replied.

You move together, losing themselves to the music, your bodies swaying in perfect harmony. The environment around you fades like magic as if it’s just you and Kate in the room. She leans down slightly from behind you, “do you wanna get out of here?” She whispers closely to your ear. You nodded softly with a growing smile on your lips.

----

Your soft moans filled the room of Kate’s studio apartment, one hand tangled in her hair while the other gripped the black silk sheets of her bed. Her tongue swirling around your clit while two fingers pumped in and out of you. “G-god!” You moaned, throwing your head back, “don’t s-stop!” You added as Kate began to lap at your soaked cunt, removing her fingers to dive her tongue inside you.

“F-fuck!” The word left your lips between moans, Kate’s tongue speeding up, pulling you closer and closer to the edge. Your heartbeat fastened, your back began to arch, you were close until she stopped, teasingly.

“Hey!” You groaned as Kate kissed up your body to your neck and finishing at your lips. “I just want to see how pretty you look for me when I sunk myself into you” she spoke while she leant back and began to undo her belt. Your cunt throbbed for more, your hand wandering down to touch yourself only to be pushed away by the brunette, “don’t you dare” she said, her eyes flickering up at you as she finally released her purple strap from her jeans.

She slid the tip of the fake cock between your wet folds, making you moan once more when she brushed over your clit before slowly sinking into you. She allowed you a moment to adjust to her but with the alcohol in your system and her hovering over you with her deep blue eyes, you couldn’t help yourself by pulling her down to your lips and kissing her.

“Please move” you smiled sweetly against her lips before she began to move her hips. She started slowly, capturing your every soft moan and the way your eyes slightly rolled back while she pumped in and out of you. “God, I bet you taste so sweet” she groaned as she sped up her movements.

You didn’t catch onto her words as she lent down, placing kisses on your neck. The blood rushing through your veins making her run her tongue over her lips with hunger while she continued to leave marks on your neck. Your nails digging into her naked and cold back, drawing small lines of blood as Kate drew back her fake cock just to thrust it back into you.

The feeling of the tips of her fangs brushing against your neck made you throw your head back ever so slightly, allowing her more access to your neck. One of Kate’s hands found yours, interlocking fingers with you just as you arched your back, pressing up against her. She couldn’t take it for a second longer, her fangs fully exposed before the sunk into your neck at the perfect timing. Your orgasm took over your body, your legs shook, locking Kate in place by wrapping them around her waist.

The warm and velvety taste of your blood quickly became addictive to the vampire. The sharp pain of her fangs sucking your blood straight from the source overlooked with pleasure. Your soft moans in her ear making her crave more, sinking her fangs deeper before you were shortly hit with horror as she sucked the life from you. Like letting the air of a balloon free, you felt her stealing your blood, her strong body keeping you from pushing her off. Your nails digging deeper into the skin of her back as your vision faded to a cold darkness.

It took every bone in her ice-cold body to stop herself from killing you completely. She pulled back, the last precious drops of your blood falling from her fangs, staining the sides of her lips before she licked them clean and with care, she slowly pulled out of you before she took off her strap and left the room to grab a warm washcloth. She cleaned you up thoroughly, placing an ice pack over the bite mark where her fangs once were before she sat in the armchair in the corner of her room.

She often found herself sitting here and watching another busy street in New York crowding with people but this time, her chair was facing her bed. The faint and slow sounds of your heart beating made her wonder why she hadn’t put you out of your misery completely. Your blood a curse to her, she would never be able to taste you like this again.

With every passing minute, your heartbeat got closer until eventually Kate was sitting in complete silence. Her eyes glued to you as you began to wake up, your eyes now a deep red as you looked around the unfamiliar room before you sat up. Kate smiled softly as she watched the red in your eyes fade to a pot of honey like color, your mouth opened slightly to speak, “I know sweet thing” Kate said before any words could leave your lips.

“You’re hungry” she added.

If you want to be on the taglist for my work, please click HERE.

#yelenasdiary asks #anon #fanfiction #marvel #Kate bishop #Kate Bishop x reader #Kate bishop x you #Kate Bishop smut #kinktober

286 notes · View notes

lovieku · 4 months ago

Text

GOOD LUCK, BABE! #1 ⋆ 정국

what happens when you leave everything behind, only to be faced with it again years later? eunbi is convinced she was given another shot at keeping all she ever wanted, but it’s difficult when that all is her childhood best friend who doesn’t want to do anything with her anymore. how to earn his trust back?

☾ pairing: non idol!jk x fem!oc

☾ genre: childhood friends to strangers, friends to lovers, angst, fluff, smut

☾ word count: 10.4k +

☾ warnings: female oc named eunbi. explicit language. alcohol consumption. lots of flashbacks. mentions of menstrual cycle. misogyny (not jk). jk is one year older than eunbi. jk is a biker!! he doesn’t have tats and piercings though, that will come later. they’re currently in uni. jk is a film production student. eunbi is a literature student. awful abuse of italics. check masterlist for more!

☾ author’s note: hello!!! this is my first time doing this so please bear with me! english is not my first language so there might be some mistakes, if so please let me know. just in general, feedback is very appreciated :) as i mentioned, i never posted on tumblr before nor wrote an au in english so im kiiinda nervous about this… but i swear ill try to bring my idea to life in the best way possible and i wont make you regret reading this hehe… Also!!! each chapter is named after a song that reminds me of them <3 i hope you come to love eunbi and jeongguk as much as i do, maybe with time… thank you !

indexㅣnext

one ⋆ come back to me

Sitting across the table, he stares at her. The light of the twenty birthday candles reflecting in her eyes, the people surrounding her, his own friends. As she’s blowing out the candles, he wonders what she wished for. Does she ever wish to go back in time? Does she think of him, of what once was? Does she regret what happened? Jeongguk scoffs at his own thoughts, looking away from what’s in front of him. It makes his blood boil. How could she just forget?

“Did you even wish Eunbi a happy birthday?” It’s Dahye blocking his line of vision now. He looks up from where he’s sitting, pout on his face and eyebrows slightly furrowed, “Why would I? Would she ever do the same for me?” She would. Jeongguk knows he’s being petty, but he can’t help it.

His friend rolls her eyes, unspokenly conveying just how tired she is of this constant snubbing between Jeongguk and the birthday girl, “So you came to her party to do what? Sit here and burn holes into her skull? Fucking grow up Jeongguk, you’re being childish.” She forces him to get up, but as he does he’s not sure he can handle this whole situation for much longer.

Everyone is hugging her, but it all feels so fake. Her smiles and squeals directed to everyone else but him. He doesn’t even know why he’s still here, doesn’t wanna be part of this farce. He feels out of place with his own people. Why did she have to ruin this one thing he had created? Why did she have to be so likeable to everyone? He can keep lying to himself, arguing that there’s no actual reason, but he knows first hand that it doesn’t take much to become fond of her. She could be spotted in a million people. She’s effortlessly glowing, radiating the light of a thousand stars, and the light burns everything. It burns his eyes, his skin, his heart.

Jeongguk has to look down at his hands as he squeezes them into fists, trying to make sense of what’s happening. He’s letting anger take over, but he knows deep down what he truly feels is sadness. Helplessness, even. He looks up just to find her staring back at him, and is he reading hope in her eyes?

He needs to get out. Being in her presence isn’t healthy for him, especially on what’s supposed to be her day, her night. He can keep being resentful, but he knows he doesn’t want to ruin that for her. Walking away from the table, he reaches the backdoor of the pub and searches for a cigarette in his jacket. Stress is clouding his mind and he just needs to relax. Breathe.

In his pocket, he doesn’t only find the pack of cigarettes he’s now desperately trying to open, but also a reminder of how delusional he truly is. Jeongguk stupidly thought he could maybe muster the courage to go up to her and give her a little gift, just a sign of politeness, he thought to himself as he fished it out of a forgotten memory box. He knows ever since they saw each other again they’ve been acting petty. Purposefully ignoring each other as if nothing ever was. He thought he could at least put an end to this. Hand her a bracelet he still keeps from their childhood as a request for a truce.

Jeongguk shakes his head and scoffs. He feels crazy. Insane, even. Is he really the only one thinking so much about how weird this whole new dynamic between them is? He knows they haven’t seen each other in years, of course things have changed, but why is she acting as if he is at fault? As if he’s the one who should apologise? He fumbles with the cigarette and struggles to keep it still in his mouth. Just then, he realises he doesn’t have a lighter on him.

”Fucking hell,” he looks up, maybe searching for help, talking to something greater than him. “Why do you hate me, God?”

”Bad day?” Jeongguk startles. He knows that voice. Turning around, he guessed exactly who it belonged to. She takes out a lighter and puts it between them, waiting for him to take it. Such a small gesture seems to mean infinitely more.

”Uh, thanks.” Jeongguk is aware of how pathetic he sounds right now, voice small and low. “Um, happy birthday. I guess.” I guess? What the fuck?

Eunbi chuckles, amused by the way he’s acting. He swears that makes him even angrier, he feels like fucking screaming. “Thanks. We’re eating cake. Come back there when you’re done?” She stands there a few more seconds, just staring at him. She expects Jeongguk to say something, anything. Even give her a smile, a nod of his head. None of that happens.

With her hair styled in a half ponytail, perfectly tied at the back with a white bow, she nods to herself and walks away, leaving the lighter in Jeongguk’s hand. He’s left speechless. That’s their first proper interaction after years. That’s all they could say to each other. He feels the hole in his chest, that he had managed to almost fully close, reopen at such a rapid speed, and he feels the urge to get out of that place immediately. Like hell he’s going back there.

Cigarette long forgotten, Jeongguk throws it somewhere in his jacket’s big pockets along with the lighter, and tries to make himself unnoticed while he frantically searches for the exit. Why the fuck are there so many people out drinking on a Monday night?

He feels bad for leaving his friends without any warning but he’s afraid one more second here could cause permanent damage to his brain. There's no point in staying any longer whatsoever.

“What a fucking waste of time.” Muttering to himself, he pushes the door open and walks ahead, keeping his head low while fishing for his bike keys in his jeans.

“Jeongguk?” Of fucking course, he thinks as his eyes close for a second, searching for the little patience he had left. Eunbi’s voice fills the much quieter parking lot outside the pub, the sound echoing and making him stop in his tracks, helmet already in his hands as he turns around.

“You're leaving?” If he didn't know her (and he would argue he actually doesn't anymore) Jeongguk would think there's a cloud of sadness in her voice. He slightly shakes his head and looks behind his shoulders. Scratches his head. Anything to escape what is happening.

“Yeah, it's quite late. I have a 9 a.m. tomorrow. Don't wanna miss it.” He's lying. He doesn't have lectures on Tuesdays, and even if he did, he's no stranger to skipping classes. He doesn’t care if the girl knows all about his ways. Hell, being in the same uni friend group doesn’t actually allow to really avoid seeing each other every fucking day of the week.

“Right,” she nods, kicking the pebbles under her feet. He notices she chose to wear Converses even under the flowy white mini dress she has on, and they still look like she never cleans them. Then she hesitates, “Wait a second? I’ll bring you a piece of cake to take home. It's your favourite, double chocolate.”

Jeongguk doesn’t reply. Doesn’t even give her a nod of his head. The birthday girl looks like she’s waiting for it though, some sign of reassurance. She’s left with none of that again, and figures she should be as quick as possible to avoid Jeongguk leaving without knowing she truly appreciated him being here.

He scoffs at the sight he catches a glimpse of through the pub’s window, the girl frantically recovering a piece of the dessert she claims she knows it’s still his favourite — it is. At that, he almost thinks of waiting for her. Almost. He doesn't, his petty nature taking over. He hops on the bike, helmet on, revving the engine to finally get the fuck out of there. No waiting, no warning. After all, it's not like she'd ever warned him before disappearing.

Jeongguk feels absent for most of the ride back to his cramped rented flat. Dissociated. Mind full of thoughts (and maybe regret) but body so relaxed and at ease because of the gentle summer breeze brushing his skin. It’s nights like these that take him way back, places in his brain that he’s sick of visiting. Jeongguk actually doesn’t remember a lot, doesn’t keep on too many memories of his past. Instead, he thinks he’s probably cursed with having every moment with her carved in his head, from the first time he saw her to the last.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Mom, I'm going outside!” A ten years old Jeongguk rushed down the stairs, hands full and voice shaking with excitement. Once again, he gathered as many toys as he could and his trusted camera to go play outside the porch.

Laying on the sofa, his mom was concerned Jeongguk would fall with how eager he was in his movements, “Alright baby, stay off the road though!” The apprehension was short lived, the woman letting a sigh out of her mouth, knowing taming little Jeongguk was mission impossible.

Nonetheless, Mrs. Jeon had always believed her son to be very intelligent for his age, both academically and emotionally. He had already developed a great sense of responsibility and empathy, especially towards his peers, so she never once doubted his actions.

On the other hand, Jeongguk felt a sense of loneliness. Being an only child during summer meant many things, one of them being the fact that he was bound to be alone most of the time since schools were closed. And so he would do what he liked the most. He would go out and film.

Usually, the subjects were his own mother, or father. But sometimes he enjoyed making scenarios on his own, pretending to be a great director and moving his actors — his toys — however he wanted, “One, two, three… action! We're rolling!”

His passion for photography and movies had grown increasingly over the past year, also due to him finding his new favourite thing ever in an old box of his dad, a Samsung SCD71.

As Barbie was about to finally kiss Ken under an imaginary stormy downpour, which Jeongguk was trying to make as believable as possible, a sudden noise had completely obscured the microphone of the camera, probably making the recording unusable. “What’s going on…” Jeongguk directed the camcorder towards the origin of the annoying sound, and through the lenses he caught sight of a moving truck that had just parked on the road. More specifically, it stopped in front of the house next to his, which he had learnt to be empty. Up to that day, apparently.

Curiosity had always been one of the most striking and dominant aspects of Jeongguk's personality, which he probably got from his dad. Camera hanging around his neck, he got up, hopped the fence and got closer to the truck, still careful not to get on the road, just as his mommy had advised him.

Jeongguk came closer, spotting a girl about his age carrying a box double her size. Her voice could be heard, even if suppressed by the weight of those items, “Mom, why do I need to carry these things, they're so heavy!” The girl whined fruitlessly, her mom going on about how she was just being dramatic, “Eunbi, just leave it on the porch and your dad will take care of it.”

To Jeongguk, it didn’t look like the kid was being dramatic. Those boxes seemed hard to even pick up. He bit his lip deep in thought, so much he didn’t even realise his feet moving on their own and getting even closer to the scene. Before he knew it, he asked, “Do you need help with that?” He felt the urge to lend a hand, just because that was in his nature.

The little girl was startled, almost losing balance at hearing a stranger’s voice directed at her. She couldn’t see who it was because of the box limiting her view, but she figured it didn’t belong to someone much older than her. When she put the carton down, she got confirmation that she guessed right. Still, her first instinct was defensive, “Huh? Who are you? And no, I don't need any help, thank you.”

It was Jeongguk’s turn to be startled. Initially left speechless, he tilted his head at being rejected when he was just trying to be nice. No problem, he’ll try again, “Oh, okay but… you were just saying the box is heavy?”

The snappy girl furrowed her brows, seemingly much mature for the age she was showing, “Yes, but that doesn't imply that I can't carry it.” Arms crossed, she looked proud of the reply she came up with, but really was just waiting for her dad to do something about the weighty box.

Tilting his head to the other side, Jeongguk reminded the girl of her little black poodle she had to leave back in her old town with her grandma. Big brown eyes and long hair, the boy pouted in thought, “Im- imply? What's that?” What can he say, he had always preferred scientific subjects.

“Whatever.” Eunbi — was that her name? — looked around in hopes to find her parents, who were inside, busy unboxing the most important items to get the long process of moving out started. When she stared back at the boy, she sighed, “I guess you can help me.”

Jeongguk chuckled contentedly, suddenly very pleased with carrying heavy things for a girl he didn’t even know. “What’s your name?” He tried to make conversation while they both went back and forth with the cartons, a silent competition between them on who was faster.

”I’m Song Eunbi… you?” Both too tired to keep carrying other stuff, they sat down on the stairs of the door to her new house, which she didn’t seem that excited about.

“Oh, I'm Jeon Jeongguk, I live next door. I came here because of the noise, heh.” He smiled a big one, showing his teeth and almost fully closing his eyes. That caused the younger one to smile too, starting to let her guard down. With the boxes out of the question, she noticed a big object hanging around his neck, “Woah… what’s that?”

She reached to touch the Samsung camcorder but he was quicker, grabbing it and tugging it to his chest in a protective manner. The pigtails girl retracted her hand, a slow pout coming on her face but not fully developing, because before that could happen Jeongguk had recovered with a jolt of his head, “Sorry, don’t like people touching it. It’s a camera. I use it to record and stuff. You wanna see?”

Eunbi didn’t reply, wary of the device in Jeongguk’s hand, and she just watched him maneuver it as if it was his job. When he gasped, she returned the attention to his face, “It was still recording. Forgot to turn it off…” He seemed more as if he was muttering to himself, but then he also shifted his gaze towards her.

Lifting the lenses up to his face, Jeongguk pointed the camera towards his — hopefully — new friend, “Do you wanna say hi?” He zoomed in and out, focusing on the background then on her. “Huh… hi.” She smiled sweetly and the boy remained on that view for more seconds than necessary, before ending the recording.

The initially grumpy girl seemed to share that same curiosity that characterised Jeongguk so well, because she eagerly started asking the older kid questions about the camera, and he easily complied.

They spent the next two hours watching Jeongguk’s self-directed short movies, in which Barbie was always somewhat saved by Ken; and then Eunbi was so inspired by that, she tore open her toy box and instructed Jeongguk just how to direct the sequel of one specific film he had showed her.

His mom was scared, to say the least. Opening the front door to call Jeongguk for dinner and not instantly seeing him. Panic, panic, panic. None of that was occurring in Jeongguk’s head, though. He was so excited to have new toys that he could use to fulfil his director dream, and Eunbi seemed happy too. Together, they created the most original stories that the only child could surely have never come up with on his own.

When Jeongguk thought he heard his mom’s voice, for the first time throughout those endless hours he lifted his head up from the camera. “Baby! Oh, thank God, I was so scared.” His mom came rushing towards him, holding his head to her chest.

Toys dropped to the ground, Jeongguk looked at his mother and the clear height difference made him also aware of how dark the sky had turned compared to when he first walked out his door.

“We were just about to come around!” At that exact moment, Eunbi’s parents walked down the stairs of their porch to greet Mrs. Jeon, “Our pleasure, you must be Jeongguk’s mom?”

The mentioned lady only nodded her head, anxiety still struggling to leave her body after thinking she just lost her only son. “I am… Um, I’m sorry about him,”

”No, don’t even!” Eunbi’s mom interrupted, “He’s been nothing but a sweetheart. We would love to have him, you and your husband over for dinner this week. We just moved in and it’d be nice to make friends.” She admitted, slightly embarrassed that her flow of thoughts made her say that out loud.

While the adults were sharing adults-stuff talk, Jeongguk managed to escape his mom’s embrace and go back to his new friend. He pointed the camera to himself, “I’m sorry, my dear public, but the movie has been interrupted.” Jeongguk announced with the saddest voice, looking over at Eunbi who nodded just as dramatically.

Now with the lenses on her, she sighed, “Yes, sadly. Will Barbie save Ken from the zombie apocalypse?” She sounded genuinely upset they didn’t get to find out, “I guess we’ll never know.”

They did find out. Made another four sequels that summer. Jeongguk will forever hold that to his heart as the best he’s ever had, the first time in his 10 years of life he spent the scorching season with a friend by his side, making the heat and the boredom bearable.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Are you even listening to me?” Jimin looks at Jeongguk, annoyance clear on his features when he notices the younger one isn’t paying attention to his rant about cafeteria prices being ridiculously high. They had decided to try and get some assignments done in a coffee shop that had just recently opened, but actually ended up talking about anything but university. Jimin waves a hand in front of the brown haired boy’s face, “Earth to Jeongguk?”

The mentioned boy shakes his head, lifting it from the palm on which he was resting his cheek, “Huh? Sorry, what was that?” Jeongguk hadn't meant to space out, but lately it seems like it's been easier to get lost in his thoughts. Jimin's eyes soften visibly as he sighs.

“It was nothing important,” now that the blonde guy has his friend’s attention again, he thinks of shooting the question he’s been careful about asking. “I was actually wondering if you wanted to come out tomorrow evening. The whole group is going.” Hope fills Jimin's voice and he forces his biggest smile, knowing convincing Jeongguk to go out these past weeks had been close to impossible.

Jeongguk studies his best friend’s face, squinting his eyes suspiciously, “Is she gonna be there?” Such a simple question completely shutters the already minuscule hope Jimin had left.

Still, the blonde head tries to act unbothered, “I did just say that the whole group is going too.” He searches for the younger’s eyes but it looks like he’s already set on a firm answer.

“Then no.” Jeongguk replies, his eyes low on the table, picking up every uninteresting detail he can catch. He knows there’s no actual reason for him to reject Jimin’s invitation. He also knows it’s been a while since he started being this difficult over simple matters he wouldn’t have stressed about months ago. What he doesn’t know is since when he started feeling like he doesn't belong among his own friends. Or better, he does, yet he doesn't want to acknowledge it.

The older of the pair sighs, fixing his hair and trying to find a solution to his friend’s sudden change in demeanour, “You know, you really should talk to her. Sort this thing out between you two.” His voice is careful, almost too delicate. Jimin had always been a big advocate in the truce between the two, if there had even been a war to begin with, yet never managed to make Jeongguk reason with him.

No matter how gentle Jimin was trying to be, he still gets an unwanted reaction from the other man, who now crosses his arms on his chest and furrows his brows. “Oh, so I should be the one to talk first. Why can't it be her? No one ever thinks of the way I’m feeling.” Once again, Jeongguk is being unreasonably difficult. He hates the words he chooses as soon as they come out of his mouth.

Jeongguk knows his friends deeply care for him, especially the one in front of him. They had been glued together since the day they met, now even sharing an apartment. They weren’t totally compatible for multiple reasons, but that’s probably why they became so close. They both added elements that were missing to each other and created a smooth dynamic, a connection able to transcend many barriers.

That’s why Jeongguk knows he can be as childish as he wants, because Jimin will always find the right words to put him in his rational mind again, “Guk, what I’m trying to say is… This is genuinely not healthy for you. You’ve been stressing so much over this and detaching yourself from the others.”

The brown haired boy keeps eye contact with his friend now, no longer escaping confrontation. He’ll admit he’s tired of running. Jimin really hopes his eyes can help his words convey how he feels about this, “They’ve asked me if you’re okay, you know. They noticed. They miss you when you’re not there.”

Hearing this makes Jeongguk bite his lip and look away in thought. He’s never been like this. Jeongguk doesn’t want to be like this. Feels terrible knowing his friends have probably interpreted him being more absent in a completely wrong way. No one else knows about the real reason, except Jimin.

He feels stupid when he realises just seeing her again had taken such a toll on him, when really he loves being surrounded by his people. The people who have been by his side this past year, who made university bearable, with whom he finally felt like he belonged somewhere. Now, one of them is in front of him, trying anything to get him to say a simple yes, “C’mon? It’s gonna be fun, we can just be on our own if you w-“

“Jimin. It’s okay. I’m coming.” He doesn’t know if it’s an impulsive decision, but seeing the incredulous smile on the blonde guy’s face makes him not dwell too much on what he just agreed to.

Jimin scoots his seat closer, putting his hands on Jeongguk’s shoulders, “Really? You’ll come?” Seeing the other boy just nodding at his questions, he makes a sound close to a squeal and claps his hands, “It’s gonna be so fun. The best party we’ve ever been to. I promise!”

The younger one just laughs while Jimin goes on about how he has to update the group chat on Jeongguk’s presence and, “Should we plan our fits? I was thinking of wearing that shirt Hobi lent me that I never gave back.”

Jeongguk laughs, genuinely surprised that his presence could lift Jimin’s spirit up so much. He has been too harsh on himself ever since she made her appearance, thinking it wouldn’t make a difference if he was there or not for the others. Fuck her. Those are his friends too.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

As soon as he heard the house phone ring, he picked it up. There could be three possible people calling: his aunt, his grandmother, or Eunbi. Guessing by the time displayed on his computer, it had to be the third. With how much the two of them spent talking over the phone (even if they lived next to each other) Jeongguk had asked his mom to get him a desk phone of his own, so it could be easier to call.

Pausing the game he had been close to finishing, he moved the device to his ear, “Hello?”

“Jeongguk…” Noises close to sobs could be heard on the other line, making the boy worry. It was definitely his neighbour’s voice, but something about it was not right.

With his eyes unconsciously wide open, making them bigger than they already were, he got up from his seat on the desk, “Bee? Everything okay?”

Silence was what he was met with initially, until he could hear sniffing and shuffling, “Huh… I don’t know. I think I got the… thing.”

At that, Jeongguk slowed down. Panic slowly left his body, which automatically sat down again on the chair. The boy almost didn’t consider a very important feature characterising his best friend: her being totally over dramatic about anything slightly outside of her usual routine.

If one single hair was out of place; if someone didn’t agree with her; if Jeongguk picked Toad instead of his usual Luigi in Mario Kart. Little meaningless actions that could get Eunbi to either yell, cry, or both.

When anything of the sort would get that reaction out of the girl, Jeongguk would do the most to be an absolute menace and make it ten times worse, just because he enjoyed bickering with her.

However, he knew not to do that in situations like these, when he didn’t know if she was genuinely hurt and needed some sort of comfort, protection. That’s why he did his best to understand the situation, “What… thing are we talking about exactly?”

“I… This is disgusting. But my parents are out, I’m home alone, and,” she sobbed “I need diapers but like, for women.” Another hiccup escaped her.

The boy on the other side didn’t know how to react. Had a vague idea of what could have happened but wasn’t that confident to assume, “What the heck are you talking about.”

“Jeongguk! Just get me those things and come here!” The line got cut abruptly and for a second Jeongguk sat there, just listening to the endless beeping. It resembled what was happening within his brain cells. Think, think, think.

He was pretty sure he saw his mother buying diapers-like stuff, came across them a few times in the bathroom. Knew every time she complained about pain, his dad automatically went out to buy those for her; figured it’s what Eunbi needed and begged for.

Putting the phone down, he sprinted to the upstairs bathroom, glad his parents were still downstairs, probably watching those game shows they love, assuming from their laughter. Which is also how he thought they would react if they saw him digging through his mom’s drawer looking for pads.

He found two types, “Why do they make one for day and one for night…” As he inspected them, he figured he should bring both and let the pained girl try them on or something. Do they go by size? This is weird.

Jeongguk took everything he could find and put it in his backpack, hurriedly going down the stairs and just then realising he had to come up with an excuse to his parents’ questioning eyes.

“Huh… Eunbi wanted to show me a new game she got. I’ll be back in a few.” He nodded enthusiastically, more to himself for being so quick on the spot, and rapidly exited the door before anything his parents said could stop him.

When he rang the doorbell, the first time wasn’t successful. He unconsciously bit his lip and tried again, worried something might have happened. With his finger hovering over the buzzer for a third time, the door suddenly opened and a messy haired Eunbi pulled him in.

“This is insane. I’m only eleven. This can’t be happening, Gguk. I used Dad’s computer to look this up and it’s saying this comes every month. Every month!” His back to the door, the boy was held hostage by his babbling best friend on the verge of a serious crisis, “This is the end of m-“

“Jesus Christ, stop.” Jeongguk put his hands on her shoulders, trying to get the scared girl to stop panicking, “I got what you need. They’re called pads, by the way. Also, why do I know more about this than you?” The older boy knew he shouldn’t be pissing off his already very pissed off neighbour, but he can’t help it. Loved making fun of her.

Still, with Eunbi’s voice being surely audible even from outside the house, yelling at him for disrespecting her, he took out the women-diapers and handed them to her, “Listen, I’m not sure how these work. I can look it up online, if you w-“

“No, oh my god. You don’t wanna see what I saw. I’ll figure this out.” Tugging the five packs of pads to her chest, she nodded confidently. She rocked on her heels, lifting her shoulders up and then down releasing a long sigh, almost as if she was waiting for something else. Jeongguk exchanged her (not so) convinced nod, not sure what else to do, “Huh… Okay, go.”

“Yes! Right,” Nodding again, this time repeatedly, she turned around. Not even one step in, she spinned to face the older boy again, embarrassment dancing on her cheeks, “Um… actually, stand outside the door?” She smiled her sweetest one and, without waiting for an answer, dragged him to the bathroom door, closing it to his face but still talking through the whole thing, oh, I think it fits like this; no, maybe like that. This doesn’t feel so bad. Just sticky. Jeongguk wasn’t sure this was what he agreed to when becoming friends with a girl.

Twenty minutes later, the newly menstruating girl came out of the room, looking up at her best friend. He was glad something different was now showing on her face, something close to relief, “I feel better, Gguk. I feel like this is a new beginning,” which was followed by her endless ranting — review and all — on this new experience. She couldn’t believe she shared her first period with Jeongguk. Heck, Jeongguk couldn’t either.

“Why didn’t you just call your mom?” With a movie playing in the background, only after an hour of looking up “menstrual cycle” online, he genuinely wondered why he was the one there instead of her mom or one of her girl friends.

By the looks of it, Eunbi didn’t take the simple question that well, “I get it, you hate me, you think I’m annoying and-“

“God, you get what I mean when I say you’re over dramatic?”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

That version of Eunbi feels much closer to the one that’s in front of him right now, turned around and waiting in line to get inside the club all their friends decided to go to together. After agreeing impulsively, there was much rethinking on his side, but Jimin would keep begging him to just come, it’ll be a fun night.

Sure. There he is. Not even in, and already hating every second of it. It was not only because of her, Jeongguk just didn’t get the hype around dancing for hours and being suffocated by other sweating drunk bodies. To be completely honest, he dreaded these places. Now even more, having to witness Eunbi fighting with random men that take pissing people off as a hobby.

The worst thing that could happen to her already over dramatic personality is being joined by the origin of drama itself, Dahye. The latter is actually the reason why the now yelling girl became part of his friend group. In the middle of last semester, she had to look for a roommate and fate wanted her to be the last person on earth he wished to see again, especially in Seoul. However, they instantly kicked off and she got introduced to the others, which also included Jeongguk. Imagine his face when he saw her.

Everything led to this moment though, with Eunbi and Dahye entertaining the dumb, probably already drunk guys over an even dumber argument, “How are you judging me for drinking a Sex on the Beach when you literally reek of beer, the worst beverage on earth.”

Jeongguk doesn’t know if he’s glad or not that the girl didn’t lose her blabbering tendencies, the little kid inside him enjoying the bickering and seeing her worked up over dismissible issues. However, no matter if she’s discussing cocktails or science, he feels like keeping his guard up high this time, just because these men don’t look like they have the best intentions, and he doesn’t want anybody to get hurt. Anybody.

He’s proved right when they emit the ugliest laughs at Eunbi’s claims, with one of them getting almost all up in her face, which Jeongguk doesn’t like at all. He takes a step further, securing a safer spot behind the girls in case something happens and he has to intervene. You never know with the two roommates, it’s not the first time they’ll be causing a scene. It’s not because he cares about the shorter girl. He’s just worried about her potentially getting the group kicked out. Yeah.

Licking his lips, the bald guy (not even an inch taller than the girls in flat sandals) squares the Sex on the Beach girl up and down, doesn’t look like he’s close to letting the stupid fight go, “Let me guess, the cocktail, those shoes, the attitude… You probably study some dumb shit like Psychology, huh?”

Such a meaningless statement gets all his minions to laugh, patting his shoulders and making more comments amongst themselves. Dahye rolls her eyes, unamused by the whole act, “That’s not the outrage you think it is, babe.”

That only gets the drunk men to laugh more, Jeongguk squeezing his fists for a second and instantly reading the look on the other angered girl’s face, knowing she’s probably ready to turn this into the worst night of every present person’s life just for the sake of her degree’s reputation.

“Ha, ha. Very funny. It’s Literature, you dickwad. You know, you're single-handedly making engineers’ notoriety even worse than it actually is.” Jeongguk knows there’s no stopping Eunbi, but he wishes he could right now. He’s glad the girl is able to stand her own ground, but is also afraid this may end horribly.

The counterpart of the diss seems taken aback, his two brain cells struggling even more because of the alcohol in his body, “How do you know I’m an engineer?”

Having it served on a silver plate, the girl in her short dress smirks, “‘Cause you look like a fucking dick.”

The men feign their surprise, the guy that mainly entertained the conversation saying something along the lines of Wanna see?, pointing at his down area and snickering, while his friends act like he’s the absolute peak of comedy.

Jeongguk has to clench his jaw, not at all pleased with how the situation is escalating. He knows Eunbi can handle such stuff, but he swears he’s one more comment away from stepping in.

On the other hand, she doesn’t seem to mind, not even thinking of backing up and showing the guy her pointer finger and thumb almost touching, indicating the guy’s size. Jeongguk slightly smirks. Then immediately wipes that off his face. He doesn’t find her funny.

“You know, this is the third time you end up talking about my dick,” the bastard is getting closer to his friends, and Jeongguk hates that. “You’re funny, you just need to be disciplined.”

As soon as those words leave his mouth, Eunbi doesn’t hesitate to invade the guy’s personal space too, holding eye contact, ready to literally throw hands if not for Dahye quickly catching her arm to move her away.

The bald head scoffs, before adding the filthiest shit his misogynistic limited mind could come up with, “If you ever need this engineer’s dick when whatever you’re studying leaves your ass on the sidewalk, you can come suck it for a couple of wons.”

Jeongguk sees absolute red for a second. He’s had more than enough now, putting a hand on Eunbi’s shoulder before anything more than an incredulous gasp could leave her mouth. He makes himself noticed, not that it was hard with his taller figure, taking matters in his own hands, “What the hell is your problem, man?”

When the mentioned guy diverts his eyes from the girl he just degraded and moves them on Jeongguk, he takes a step back. Still, he doesn’t stop his dirty mouth from running, “Shit, is she already busy with you? Sorry, man.”

His group laughs at that too, and the taller boy unconsciously squeezes his hand on the girl’s shoulder, clenching his jaw. “You’re fucking disgusting. Get the fuck out of here before I make you.”

What his eyes convey is definitely stronger than the words he lets out, wishing he could destroy every bone in the guy’s body, who now knows to stop being so smart. He mutters a few more comments though, making it harder for Jeongguk to not act upon his violent thoughts, “I’ll give you three fucking seconds.”

That makes the guy lift his hands up in surrender and finally turn the other way, distancing himself even from his friends, who don’t find him amusing anymore.

Jeongguk thinks the whole thing is over, but of course he should have trusted his wide knowledge on the fussy girl’s behaviour more, and predicted that she wouldn’t have let it go so easily, “Oh, so now that a man broke in you shut up, huh? Come talk, you little pus-“

“Eunbi. C’mon. We have to get in,” It’s — strangely — Dahye who doesn’t go along with her roommate and instead directs her to the entry, assuring her how there’s going to be no more trouble and just a long night of fun. The other girl just scoffs, too busy looking back at those men to try and get them to react again, but when she’s inside and she loses sight of them she finds her eyes meeting Jeongguk’s, who is directly behind her.

The interaction is awkward, to say the least. She slightly bows at him in recognition, while he just nods and does his best to avoid finding her eyes again, resorting to turning around in search for Jimin, probably way behind with Hoseok.

He’s so thankful when he feels a pat on his shoulder, and looking to his side it’s Namjoon that pulls him into a side hug, “That was tuff, man.”

“Ah, nothing,” Jeongguk nods, adrenaline still struggling to leave his body and not allowing him to relax. He follows his friend’s steps even if they’re going in the same direction as the person he’s now even more than before trying to avoid. He didn’t plan to be this close to her for so long.

“I thought you hated,” the taller guy uses his chin to refer to the girl in front of them. “But here you are defending her.”

The other guy is glad for the loud music playing, the last thing he wanted was for the mentioned girl to hear. He also doesn’t want Namjoon or anyone else to think that was him coming in her defence. It was just common sense. Doesn’t know why he felt like breaking the guy’s nose though. Figures that’s common sense too.

Before he can justify himself, the remaining members of the group reach them, giving Jeongguk the chance to get away from the sight of the girl but still feeling a burning sensation on his tongue. The need to make himself clear.

The chaotic atmosphere is even more emphasised by his already tipsy friends telling him again and again how happy they are to see him here, shaking him by the shoulders with way too much enthusiasm. Now distracted by the earlier incident, he just jokes with them like usual, but he feels a nervous sensation creeping up his neck. With a drink in his hand, he tries to follow the music, but he can’t seem to focus.

When Jeongguk finds Namjoon again, who was already handed a drink by Jimin, he gets close to his ear, replying to his previous insinuation, “I wasn’t- defending her.”

The older guy furrows his brows at him, signalling the conversation being over and certainly not that important, “Sure, man.” Showing his thumbs up, Namjoon scream sings some lyrics at him, Jeongguk still feeling a bit uneasy. He just needed to specify that. He was not defending Eunbi. Well, technically. But Dahye was there too, and she’s his friend. Of course he would have done th-

“Ggukkie!” It’s Jimin’s voice pulling him away from his thoughts, but also pulling him closer to the floor, “I’m so happy you’re here! This is fun, no?”

Jeongguk nods and chuckles at his best friend’s horrific dance moves, just now realising how tipsy he already is but taking it as the opportunity to fully let what happened go.

The rest of the night is unexpectedly fun. He’s surrounded by great energy that his friends keep oozing, and he realises just how much he had missed laughing to the point of his stomach hurting. Shouting when the group's favourite songs came on. Chuckling at a way too drunk Hoseok trying to get him to move his hips a bit more. Of course, he should have predicted his friends’ main goal is to get absolutely shit faced tonight. He isn’t really in the mood for that, though enjoying the state of the others while too much alcohol is flowing in their bodies.

No drinking means Jeongguk’s social battery is running out much faster than the others’, not having enough energy to entertain the constant back and forth between his friends, and certainly to handle them not even needing one single break from the dance floor.

At some point during the endless dancing, he settles on just being by the bar counter, sitting on a stool and taking no more than a few sips from the drink Jimin had given him as soon as he had stepped foot in the club, which was hours ago by now. He doesn’t know why, but alcohol tastes awful on his tongue tonight and it’s a task on its own to even swallow it.

”Can I buy you a drink?” It comes from a silky voice on his right, close enough to startle him slightly before he recollects and takes in the girl looking at his face expectantly. She has soft features framed by smooth blonde hair, completely contrasted by her intense makeup and burgundy mini dress. So far from his type, but Jeongguk entertains it for some reason.

”Well, you stole my line there,” the smile he gives her is gentle but playful and it sets the girl into a fit of giggles, clearly amused by the mysterious dark guy sitting alone by the bar. And that’s exactly what she tells him, ”I had to give it a try, you get me? I love boys that look just like they need to be fixed.”

“That is absolutely ridiculous,” he genuinely laughs, and he’s joined by her. Jeongguk can’t lie, the conversation between them takes off right from the start. It’s a nice back and forth that takes his mind off things for a while, not enough to actually give into her flirty intentions, but enough to eventually move to the dance floor with her. She’s witty and he likes that about her. Abbey? Ashley? He clearly doesn’t like her enough to remember. Or maybe he just doesn’t care.

He can’t bring himself to, especially when his line of vision falls right on a tipsy Dahye-less Eunbi next to what seems to be more than one guy. She’s laughing a lot and he’s sure none of what the men are spluttering can be that funny. It’s probably just the alcohol, and that is enough for him to keep him observing. Only to make sure nothing bad happens.

Abbey-Ashley must have noticed his sudden disinterest, and with boldness she wraps her short arms around his neck, bringing him way too close to her face than he had planned to be to any woman this night. The eye contact is uncomfortable, and Jeongguk is itching to keep checking on whatever was happening not too far from him, but the blonde speaks her wittiness again, “You won’t let me offer you a drink and you’re not willing to dance with me, is this how men feel?”

The pearly smile on her face lets him know the setting between them is still playful, so he just shakes his head letting a small giggle out of his mouth. Now with the woman almost hanging from his neck, he resolves on just going along with her moves, and when he steals a glance at the girl he was previously keeping an eye on and sees her staring back he feels a sense of unwarranted satisfaction.

He keeps searching for that, wanting more of that groundless feeling but all he’s met with is more and more flashes of her digging a hole he’s afraid she’s gonna fall in, with the men acting way too friendly and her drunk mind not noticing. Or just not caring.

When the blonde in front of him starts being a little too inclined on taking the physical contact further, he regrets not even finishing his previous and only drink of the night, wishing he could give in but knowing he can’t with his mind thinking way too rationally and being too aware of his surroundings. He genuinely thinks Abbey-Ashley is a nice girl, and he feels sorry knowing he’s going to reject her. Thinks it was kind of fuckboy-ish for him to go along with her knowing they’re on two completely different lines, but still doing it because it seemed like the quickest escape from his running mind.

He gently puts his hands on her waist, intent on moving her away and trying to come up with a reasonable excuse, when he hears his name being called and for the second time tonight, he’s glad Namjoon’s parents fucked. ”Hey, JK- oh shoot, am I interrupting something?”

The smokey eyed girl breaks away from her moment and seems suddenly very interested in hearing Jeongguk’s answer, batting her eyelashes at him in hopes of getting a different reaction from what she knows the evident one is going to be. She did know the brown haired man was not interested; she still figured she could try and change that.

Jeongguk moves his gaze from his friend to the girl and hesitates, “Huh… not really.” He gives an awkward tight lipped smile, thinking this is fucking embarassing, then tries not to read too much in Namjoon’s weirded out expression, “What’s up?”

“Everybody is leaving, Jimin and Dahye already did with Hoseok after throwing up on three sofas.” Namjoon scoffs, rolling his eyes amusedly, “Anyway, see you in uni?”

Jeongguk has a few questions he’s afraid to know the answer to, but still he daps up his friend and then inevitably searches with his eyes for Eunbi, the reason for his worry. He knows Dahye, her usual ride home, will kill him if he lets her roommate wander off with some random men while drunk. Hell, he himself wouldn’t let that happen. He dislikes the girl, but he’s still human.

Jeongguk stresses even more when he sees her directed towards the exit with said guys. He completely disconnects from what the burgundy dressed girl is telling him, only picking up a “Can I get your number, though?”

Maybe it’s his guiltiness acting, or just him wanting to find a quick escape, but he does share his number in surely unanswered hope that she’s going to give up reaching out to him eventually. That does get her to part ways though, not before a sneaky kiss is left on his cheek. He really wants to kill Eunbi.

His next steps are directed towards her, ready to re-enact his previous success at getting rid of those beer stinking misogynists, but he’s left surprised, and in some sense relieved, when he sees her standing alone, arms wrapped around her small freezing figure with her phone to her ear. When he gets closer, he’s able to catch her muttering nasty remarks towards Dahye, so bad that he believes her roommate can feel them right now, in her probably passed out state and all.

”Fucking fuck, why is she not answering,” Before she can dial her number for the fifth time, she spots Jeongguk on her right, and for the first time since they saw each other again in years, she seems glad that he’s there, “Jeongguk!” Her voice is giddy, and he thinks he hasn’t heard his name being said like that in a long time.

Still, he keeps an unbothered act up while standing in front of her, hands in his jeans pockets, “Dahye went home already. I’m guessing she was your ride home.”

Now, he knows she’s overdramatic, but with alcohol flowing through her system that trait of her surely reaches its finite form. She lets out an incredulously loud gasp, mouth hanging and all, and whispers some more insults under her breath. When she still doesn’t reply, he listens more attentively to what she’s muttering and he latches on to her intention of going back home with a taxi, “I have 9,000 won on me, so that will probably do, Eunbi…”

He witnesses beyond belief the girl in front of him giving herself a whole encouraging speech before taking off onto the road, uncareful of eventual vehicles steering on it. That triggers his instinct, yelling her name. It unexpectedly but luckily stops her in her tracks, making her turn around with a not so pleased expression.

Jeongguk can’t believe what he’s offering to do while having to be met with that look on her face. Ugh, brat. “What the hell are you doing? C’mon, I’m taking you home.”

The laugh she lets out is so obnoxious and loud that a few people actually turn around startled, and Jeongguk has to literally sprint over to her, holding her wrist to bring her further away from the road and from the club’s entrance, “Shut up, God,” He whisper yells, while she seems to do the exact opposite.

It luckily stops at some point, but as if nothing ever happened she turns too serious too soon, ”You…” Her finger is pointed at Jeongguk’s chest in what seems to be a menacing manner, eyes narrowed and dipping into his, “You own that loud bike. I’m not getting on it. Not getting on it!” She yells that last sentence, making a scene as if she was trying to break free from Jeongguk’s hold, which he immediately drops, while still trying to get her to be quiet.

The genuinely desperate expression on the boy’s face is enough for her next move to be crouching in half, holding her stomach as unexpected laughter holds her body hostage once again, Jeongguk sighing unbelievably and regretting every single thought of his that led him to follow her outside.

”Can you please- be normal,” Jeongguk actually begs, bringing the girl up and noticing real tears around her eyes, smudging her glittery makeup. He doesn’t know what’s so funny, his expression clearly conveying that annoyment.

”You- You’re too funny,” She giggles, recovering from her sudden fit of laughter, which dies down slowly this time with her emitting a long sigh. The drunk girl shakes her head to herself, retrieving her phone once again and opening the Uber app. Jeongguk is having none of it.

”I’m being serious. I’m not letting you get a taxi at this hour. You’re getting on that loud bike, like it or not.” His firm statement is luckily not followed by chuckles, nor by a witty remark, just her snapping her head up with big eyes staring into his unsurely. He feels like having to deal with an eleven year old all over again, only this time his patience is running thin and he doesn’t feel like waiting.

The girl catches up to him, trying her best to keep up with his pace and following him closely to the vehicle that’s going to be her ride home tonight. She shivers, not only because she’s cold but also because she’s rethinking life choices. Eunbi scrambles to find anything to avoid what was bound to happen, her slow mind trying to come up with a quick escape and not even registering Jeongguk putting his jacket around her shoulders and securing the helmet under her chin, while she almost literally just stands there. “I’m sure-” she hiccups, “I’m sure that blonde girl would love to be in my position right now.”

That is not at all how it was supposed to come out nor sound, the confusion evident on the boy’s face being met with horror written in the girl’s expression. She stutters, “I meant, like- you should be taking her home.”

A part of his brain notes the fact that she was also observing him from a distance not too long ago inside the club, but he leaves that thought for his late night thinking. Right now, he chuckles amusedly, sitting on his bike while adjusting his hair, “Hop on. It won’t kill you.”

The possibility of the bike killing her almost does it for her, until she remembers the other option. Having to pay for an Uber at 4 a.m. while too drunk to even formulate a senseful sentence. In front of her instead, a free ride by no one other than the boy she’s been shamelessly avoiding for no reason, too scared to actually confront him. What a great second option.

Still, she balances herself using his shoulders and gets on the bike, not knowing where to put her hands next. That thought seems to be registering at the same time in Jeongguk’s head, who revs the engine, “I suggest you hold onto me.”

Eunbi scoffs, shoving her straightened hair back in a sassy manner, “There’s no way in hell-“ Her remark is abruptly interrupted by a loud squeal, followed by her arms wrapping around his torso in under one millisecond, with Jeongguk suddenly taking off at full speed.

He laughs a genuine one, and that gets the scared girl pissed beyond hell, yelling in his ear about how she hates his guts with her hands almost close to groping his pecs. Can you blame her? They’re the closest thing she can hold on to right now to survive.

He does slow down, as does his laughter and her screaming, but then as he rounds the club he spots the men who had been bothering Eunbi at the beginning of the night intent on crossing the street. He figures he can play a bit more before actually stopping sabotaging the girl in the back’s health. Just a little something to get back at them for their comments. So, he zooms right past them, cutting their way suddenly and almost probably going over one of their toes, their incredulous yelling and remarks being music for his ears, joined by the girl he’s taking home as she screams more insults at him, looking back at the angered men getting further as Jeongguk drives away.

”Are you trying to take my life?” She’s almost voiceless as she tries to make herself heard over the engine, squeezing Jeongguk’s waist in genuine fear. All she gets back from the biker is a giggle, and a tap on her knee, “Sorry. They deserved it. You can relax now.”

As suspicious as she may have been initially, he didn’t lie. The rest of the ride is pleasant, slow driving while a sweet summer breeze brushes her face and makes her hair flow with the wind. No one dares break the moment, not even at red lights when the only sound that can be heard over the silence is the growling motor. Eunbi is glad Jeongguk knows the way to her flat, having already been there with the others for a few house parties she and Dahye hosted. That means she can just zone out in the back, her head resting on Jeongguk’s shoulders, and right in this moment she doesn’t regret almost risking her life, the sight of the city flashing past her making her forget all about it.

When Jeongguk can feel the grip around his torso getting loose, he taps her knee twice, afraid she might be falling asleep. He’s proved right when that gesture gets her to suddenly shake her head, muttering some noises and tightening her hold around him again. He smiles, ”We’re almost home, don’t fall asleep on me.”

Indeed, the sight of her building comes to view shortly after, Jeongguk stopping in front of it and waiting for his backpack to get off the bike. When she does, she stumbles slightly, seemingly gaining consciousness of her surroundings again. Jeongguk notices she completely wrapped herself in his leather jacket, figures she was probably freezing to death in that short dress of hers. Thinks it’s a cute sight. Regrets having a brain right after.

Said cute sight struggles to take off the helmet, Jeongguk itching to help her, but she succeeds unexpectedly without any help. Still no word being uttered by any of the two, with her hair a tangled mess, she gets close to him and repeats the same actions Jeongguk did to her earlier, handing his jacket back and putting the helmet around his head. When she’s done she pats it, then takes a step back.

A simple ride home on Jeongguk’s bike seems to have opened a black hole of unsaid truths, being communicated by their eyes just staring at each other. None of them is ready to voice them out, though. Eunbi clears her throat, pulling the hem of her dress down as a habit, clearly out of embarrassment. Then, she fixes her locks, “That’s very dangerous, you know?”

Jeongguk hums questionly, moving some of his bangs out of his vision and clearly seeing goosebumps rising on the girl’s skin, unsure of why she prefers trying to converse after minutes of silence over warming up in her flat.

“You giving me your helmet and your jacket. What if you hurt yourself?” She keeps muttering some more remarks under her breath, probably slander reserved just for him this time. He can make out a dumbass. What a nerve.

She may be right, though. Without his jacket on, he was only covered by a tight black shirt, nothing on his head to save him from any eventuality he doesn’t want to consider. Still, he clearly doesn’t see why he wouldn’t have preferred to protect her instead of himself, but he doesn’t exactly say that, “If I didn’t do that, you would have been a popsicle by now.”

The girl giggles, proving him right when she wraps her arms around her figure, “So, you do this for every girl? What if one of them gets you killed?”

Jeongguk scoffs amusedly, shaking his head at her implication, but deciding to ignore it, “The only one who got me close to that was you.” He only says that to gain one of her too over the top reactions, and he’s glad when she furrows her brows, hanging her mouth and bringing a hand to her chest. He chuckles, “If anything you should be thanking me.”

The usually over dramatic girl now just nods, taking in the smile on his face and grasping the fact that it hasn’t been directed at her in a long time before this moment. She smiles too, “Yeah, huh… Thanks. For the ride. ‘T was nice.”

Jeongguk figures the wind must have dried up almost all the alcohol from Eunbi’s body, because she seems to be realising, just as he is, how close they have gotten to one another while ignoring the huge elephant in the room, her attitude being way less sassy and picky with this knowledge. Fazed by this sudden but obvious realisation, he only nods.

The girl quickly notices the change in his demeanour and she nervously bites her lower lip, aware their dynamic is going to return to cold stares and unacknowledgement, but still wanting to hold onto this moment even for one more second. “Oh,” her chest jumps in some sort of gasp, realising she still has something else to thank him for, “Thanks for earlier. You know, with those guys. I appreciated it.”

Differently from Eunbi, Jeongguk wants to be done with this pretence already. As soon as he found himself getting too lost in the fantasy of them still being friends, he quickly recovered and put the wall up high again, making the distance between them even farther than it was before. He doesn’t miss the sadness in her eyes when that shift happens, but he also doesn’t want to dwell too much on it, his tone unbothered all of the sudden while his eyes convey a different story, “No problem. Get inside.”

She nods, giving him a tight lipped smile, turning around slowly and making her way to the front door of the building. She expects to hear the roaring of the bike’s engine, but the only sound that can be heard is that of the birds waking up and singing their morning songs.

Jeongguk stays in his spot on the bike until he sees the girl enter the block, releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding and then securing the helmet under his chin. Pats it, then immediately retreats his hand. “Dumbass,” That’s his signal he needs to get home as soon as possible and get some sleep, already imagining how difficult such a simple task will be with his mind running a hundred miles per hour. Fucking Bee.

#jungkook x original character #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook friends to lovers #jungkook imagine #jungkook smut #jungkook series #jungkook au #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts fic #jungkook angst #jeon jungkook #📓: good luck babe!

125 notes · View notes

jamiepaige · 11 days ago

Text

Constant Companions Closeup #5: CADMIUM COLORS

youtube

(also on bandcamp and spotify!)

Once again, welcome back to the Constant Companions Closeups - a series of in-depth dives into the songs off of my latest album, Constant Companions! Last time, I wrote a whole diatribe about my OCs while talking about I Wish That I Could Fall, and today, we're eating paint! Cadmium Colors featuring Soneji of Project Mikan!

Consider this a content warning: this post will discuss the pandemic, struggles with mental health, and suicidal ideation/attempts. I'm hoping it'll ultimately be uplifting, but the discussions at hand are incredibly heavy, and it wouldn't do this song right to be vague. Please be warned.

---

Let's talk about COVID.

At the beginning of 2020, I was in the midst of a long-term break from making music. It wasn't completely cold turkey, and I might not have even called it a break if you'd asked me at the time, but things were dire. I was still dealing with the burnout I'd sustained from the making of Autumn Every Day; I'd had my ego bruised by a live performance at a house party that went so hilariously bad it'd hurt even the most stoic performers (imagine watching an entire packed room of people clear out in 5 minutes flat from the already hyper-exposed vantage point of being on stage in front of them and knowing you single-handedly caused that lol); I had just moved across the country, and was preoccupied with trying to make ends meet as a 22 year old dealing with pure adulthood for the first time.

I was working a shitty minimum wage job at a discount clothing store I will not be naming, slogging through late-night shifts that wouldn't get me home until 3 am some nights. I had friends and roommates, but they were all just as overworked and exhausted and dealing with their own shit as me. I was mentally ill and unmedicated. Suicidal ideation was rearing its ugly head at my lowest moments.

Then, as I turned 23, a global pandemic shut the world down, my grandpa died with me being unable to attend his funeral, and I had a catastrophic mental breakdown that suddenly turned the voices in my head into a deafening cacophony of self-inflicted malice.

In hindsight, I think being 23 kinda just does that to you

---

Fast forward to 2021. I was back at my retail job with the pandemic raging in full force, my sense of self was held together with duct tape, positive self-talk essentially didn't exist for me, and I was the loneliest and lowest I had ever been. I was working the fewest hours I could get away with, and still, almost all spare time I had was taken up either by work or by my recovery from it.

This was around the time I got an email from Crypton, of all places - the people that make Hatsune Miku, for anyone uninformed. They wanted a remix of the song Happy Synthesizer for a Digital Stars compilation. I could not for the life of me tell you how I lucked into this or why they reached out to me of all people, but they did, and I was deathly determined to prove myself worthy of it.

This was August of 2021. I was staring down the barrel, languishing in what felt like only half of a life, fantasizing about death and trying to twist my thoughts into something that could at least keep me blearily shuffling forward another couple days. It was untenable.

(I'd also recently been diagnosed with OSDD 1b - this is a whole can of worms I can't really open until we talk about Breeze Blows, but it's important to at least mention that coping with this was a significant part of this turnaround.)

It's melodramatic, but I had only two options - make things again, or die.

I finished that remix within 24 hours of getting the stems, and I will gladly toot my own horn about it - it's really fucking good, in my opinion. Bittersweet ended up coming together in a mad dash over the next couple months as well. I was making music again.

Even though I was exponentially busier, things paradoxically got easier. I made the creative process a priority in my life, and not only did it give me an outlet for everything that had otherwise been eating away at my soul, but it struck a chord with other people who had been struggling as well. Things just... started getting brighter.

So I kept making music and living and yadda yadda blah blah here I am. This is all a lot of words and very personal stories of mental health struggles to say this:

One: The line between being an artist and being one of countless people forced to work jobs that go nowhere, that put their life at risk, that force them to strip parts of themselves away - it is a faint and transparent line built on circumstances of class and privilege and luck. Making Art and being an Artist aren't magical elevated states of existence, but something anyone is capable of if given the space to nurture their creativity. I believe the world should be a place where any person can do this.

Two: It's easy to convince yourself that art is meaningless in the face of the world at large. And yes, revolutions aren't fought by poetry and paintings, and people aren't fed through songs. But art is a source and a medium for connection; Art is how we find beauty in a disorganized and entropic world; Art is what we come home to and what words we write and pictures we paint and songs we sing to remind us that people matter to us and love is real and life is worth fucking living. Maybe that's corny and stupid, but it's true.

Three: So help me God, I will never work retail again in my entire life.

---

This is another song that is heavily inspired by artists like Prefab Sprout, Peter Gabriel, Kate Bush, and other artists of that ilk - very 80s, very flowery and sentimental lyricism, focused on telling a story. I greatly admire songs that aren't afraid to paint otherwise banal or ordinary scenes in abstract reverence!! I wanted the verses to contrast heavily with each other in that way, with verse one's relentless poeticisms (prosaic practice of depravity) and idioms turned on their head (suspending innocents above their disbelief) against verse two's incredibly straightforward depiction of a factory worker's circumstances.

The flowery language might have worked against me somewhat, though! I've seen a lot of folks that thought the ending was darker or much more defeatist than I intended, and while some of that is just inevitable with a work of art, I want to be clear.

Translator's note: this means "don't kill yourself, you idiot"!!

As you may have picked up from the previous post in this series, this song does heavily feature a leitmotif or two predominantly performed under pudgy pretenses. I'm not going to go on that whole novella-length spiel again, but rest assured knowing that this song, too, is one that makes me think about my OCs. Since it's something many people missed, however, I will take a moment to point out that this song quotes none other than Autumn Every Day off of my album of the same name!

Painting and visual art have been something of a reoccurring obsession of mine in my own art. I grew up around visual artists, have always been friends with many visual artists, and generally have a really intense love of it as a medium and a mode of expression. However, there's also always been a sense of... well, I don't want to call it jealousy, but it's jealousy. I've tried many times to start making visual art of my own, and I have made some things, but it's been a struggle, and I worry sometimes that my eye has permanently outstripped my ability.

However, in my quest to toss out grand expectations and simply have fun making art, I did recently pick up a cheap little drawing tablet! I'm excited to be a beginner at something artistic again...

Finally, I want to thank a couple people: Soneji of Project Mikan for the gorgeous, soaring saxophone solo; friend_xp for the mindboggling MV editing; and especially my good friend Que for the GORGEOUS painterly art that goes along with this song! Que's style was just perfect for this, and really tied the whole thing together immaculately!! There's no joke or deeper lore or anything I just fucking love Que's art go follow!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And with that, I think this post is complete!! If you have anything else you wanna know about, ask away in the replies! Tomorrow will be Breeze Blows with Marcy Nabors and Marlow Jacobs!!!

MAKE ART AND BE GAY

#music #jamie paige #bandcamp #constant companions #behind da scenes

140 notes · View notes

nanakah · 21 days ago

Text

hello hello, I took the alien stage pill. howdy fellow sufferers

Honestly, my first reaction to basically everything was "awww, they come in sets and are all without exception horribly doomed no matter their specs (loops cool music and vids)"

I'd seen some of VIVINOS' team works without realizing it was the same artist (my favorites being Beloved and Otomeroid) so it was rather shocking to learn of a "series" with a fandom as active/relatively large as Alien Stage without ever actually stumbling upon it before...

Anyways. I like the concept, and Hyuna+Luka in particular, a whole lot. In spite of all the jokes about only yuri and yaoi losing, my spider sense says they'll get their turn of crashing horribly soon and I wanna stay here to witness it burn beautifully, of course.

TL;DR OMG HYULUKA IS SO DELICIOUS

general yapping about all alien stage duos under the cut and some Hyuna/Luka considerations and theories

disclaimer: long, chaotic post ahead - i wrote most of it during revenge bedtime procrastination so I'm kinda just rambling/discussing my general impressions and vibes here instead of formatting it nicely or properly illustrating my points. good luck if you choose to stick around and make yourself comfy

alien stage impressions under read more - also SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS

funny thing - I got into alien stage completely by chance after checking out some related vids to my Love and Deepspace twitter spree and avoiding my responsibilities. Ivan's Black Sorrow made a very strong impression and I loved his eyes, so I kept going deeper down the rabbit role and felt fascinated by the web of dynamics between the characters each time I took in a little more of the plot.

(His eyes are so cool and expressive.....I was already loving everything prior and was excited to continue, but Ivan was definitely the one to sell me on the concept more strongly and eat up the rest.)

It was interesting seeing "love" portrayed under such dire conditions and I kept wondering how come the aliens are so stupid they chose a 1vs1 PVP combat format with their beloved pets instead of the optimal formation of idol units and at least duos versus each other to utilize their feelings of love. Why would they do that?

That first innocent musing made me realize how clever the team behind ALNST is. The whole thing seems to be operating as a metaphor/commentary about how predatory the real idol industry is (the concept of anakt garden really sounds like the average idol trainee camp experience and the bonds they form with their group mates) and how heartless guardian (parental) figures can be in a society that is heavily utilitarian and barely gives agency to either their own children or sentient beings like animals that we keep as pets.

So in that world, the sacrifices of being an idol are literal and humans themselves are "pets" - with all the implications that come with "being dependent on a species that does not properly comprehend them". At times, the way they refer to the fandom of each character even seems to be tongue in cheek as to how "we" too are watching the story for entertainment and making fanbases for each character and reacting like some of the in-universe alien fans.

Therefore, it's no brainer that the answer to my initial question was: aliens/Segyein don't understand how to utilize human bonds and emotions to their maximum efficiency in the first place. They know interaction between humans seems to be important and produces more beautiful songs. However, they probably experience those feelings differently and most of them are likely unable to truly empathize with human pain, ethics or feelings. (And believe me, even some people have a hard time believing other species benifit from socialization, so aliens being that way is understandable). Perhaps the awful acts of the Segyein mutilating their pet human is no different from pulling a butterfly's wings to a human or injecting colored fluid into a flower. The glimpses of their buildings and tv show that they have the same sort of "do they have rights?" feelings and similar moral conflicts to what we have in the real world about species we don't understand fully.

I think it's really challenging to analyze a work attempting to guess future developments when you don't know the creator too well. In spite of looping OTOMEROID I wouldn't say I know VIVINOS and her team deeply as an admirer. But from the overall tone of the videos in her channel, I could pick up on a fascination with "extremes" of emotion and exploring the hypocrisy of society. Human/animal experimentation and materialism/religion/consumerism are topics that come up often. Love is also hardly ever portrayed as a simple or benevolent feeling alone - there's unrequited love, obsession, insanity, many facets of that feeling on the channel. Some works are more straightforward and focus on the visual presentation, others seem to have a deeper story behind it.

The technical quality of the Alien Stage MVs is extremely impressive, I had a blast looking at the patreon storyboards and feeling like "wow, a person actually made this". It seriously got me inspired to feel like drawing more to get out of my own artblock and to pick up on old OCs to show them some love. In the era of AI, this is a joy to get to feel. It all definitely feels like a well-put together labor of love. I'm super weak to things brimming with passion like this, it's contagious!!!!

Now that I've tried my best to make an eloquent opening and act like I'm not at all just a fangirl foaming at the mouth with this intense concept (I keep crying that I wanna see either Aka or Ohkawa try their hand at a death game scenario) and at the sight of a tragic toxic duo with a backstory of a deeply rooted mutual obsession/love and fall out (wiping drool out of the corner of my mouth as we speak), let's talk a little more about the story. In order to make sense out of my ramblings and projections, let me explain my thoughts on the other duos besides my bias first.

Mizi and Sua set the tone to their universe as well as serve as an explanation as to why "idols" work well to represent their conflict and struggle - I'm fresh out of Oshi no Ko here, so this feels equal parts like a comfort zone and everything but comfortable and hellish to go over again. But, to put it briefly, the adoration of someone as an entertainer that you want to support also overlaps with the word reserved for adoring "an image or representation of a god used as an object of worship" - idol.

Humans, stripped of their power and autonomy after arrogantly believing they were superior to everyone else and were the only beings in the vast universe, have been subjugated by other species. Because of the bleak, unforgiving circumstances they were faced with afterwards, the surviving ones were turned into luxury pets and stripped of their freedom. Free will made them children of God before, so people have forgotten all about the "God" who couldn't answer their prayers/save them. But, as Mizi says, the belief in God is innate to human nature. You are more likely live in this world successfuly if you have someone to look up to or a reason to survive.

When God seems so far away and so cruel...what they can do is look to each other as their "Gods". Because a belief in God is ultimately, a cry for salvation and acceptance...."The Bible makes it clear that “God is love” (1 John 4:8). He isn't just loving, but he is the very definition of love."Therefore, all characters are, in some way, looking for salvation and being constantly tested and brutally being forced to show off their humanity through the lens of how love affects them - and not at the privacy of their inner thoughts or anything. All of that in order to portray different aspects of "love", adoration and what it means to be human. To have a belief on the unseen - "what is essential is invisible to the eye".

IT'S ALIEN AMERICAN IDOL MEETS DANGANRONPA. WHOO.

(gOD I wish we could have gotten Luka vs Sua or vs Ivan in some way. That feels like it would be extremely close and entertaining to see. Am I losing my humanity? Why is my keyboard slimy? Am I becoming a Segyein ....?)

Of course, because I fell for all those deliciously doomed themes like the good CLAMP/Akasaka foolish nerd I am, I bought patreon access day one. Although some setting details were unexpected, I was pretty satisfied with my overall initial grasp on most of the characters. If you found me through the tags and didn't already follow me, my disclaimer here so you get to know me is that I easily gravitate to polarizing characters or doomed ships like a curse. There are also certain Themes that follow me like a plague and I could see some of my favorite characters' shadows on the doomed kids I liked right away. Like an itch to spot something more to what is being shown.

Therefore right away, Luka and Hyuna caught my eye big time. (literally, when I watched sweet dream I kept pausing and going - whOA WHO IS THE COOL GIRL WITH THE CIG. Wait wait wait show me more of the boy that looks dead inside overstimulated by the flashing lights!)

I don't really have any pretension to be quoted on anything here or say things verbatim (Patreon says it's fine to produce derivative content based on what's there, but as expected, it's enforced not to directly share it so I can't really go argument-evidence here by presenting it) and have only seen pictures of the artbook secondhand by a friend, so I'll have my fun here making commentary loosely based on extra content and sporadically showing off pretty MV captures.

Anyway.

We're introduced to this universe through the jarring cruelty of ROUND 1, contrasting a harmonic, beautiful, lullaby-like melody with a harsh outcome. Like Mizi, unless we got spoiled beforehand, we don't really know anything about what's about to horrifically transpire. And though she got education, it feels like the teachings about what death or the Alien Stage would be like were horribly sugar coated or distorted to her, as incentive to give their best performances - like sacrificing themselves was a good thing. The extra materials back this up with Mizi's first interview about "My Clematis" - it's like they're told they're simply going back to their "origins" entity (The Grand Ankt) and it's a pretty and peaceful thing. We're shown how bad humans have it in their society and simultaneously get a montage of a cute, healthy, heartwarming relationship between the two girls and a deep "pure" love, as well as feel the weight of Sua's sacrifice and how badly it hurts Mizi. You're told that Sua is her God, her Universe in a Godless world - only to have her ripped away and "God" basically slaughtered for cheap entertainment. Some of the extra materials put it as a certain "mutual love" between Sua and Mizi.

It's interesting how we're shown a stage and don't know what to expect at first - since the girls seem "calm" and happy to express their love, but there's an increasing sense of dread until the finality of Sua's death hits and the pretty, shining girl we see in the flashbacks becomes an empty husk. The MVs seem all to be roughly designed around creating a surprise at the end or recontextualizing something we have seen previously.

I won't discuss Till and Ivan at length at this time, because that would get too long and demands it's own post (I sure as hell rewatched Unknown, Black Sorrow and Cure many times though), but the key part for me here is - they similarly express "love", but through another facet - obsession of a one-sided love and the desire to reach salvation or a reason to endure the world because of that, too. To the point of choosing the chance of love over salvation, expressed by Till letting go of Ivan's hand when they had a chance to escape (not wanting to leave Mizi behind most likely) and Ivan's kiss and decision to strangle Till to give his own life in exchange for his/finally getting to express his "shallow emotions" he perceives as something that won't deeply scar Till (but it does, and it mattered, far more than he could ever have known). It's interesting that although Mizi calls Sua a God, they develop something closer to a balanced, mutual relationship, as much as their lack of understanding of "human relationship" allows - they connect deeply. Ivan, according to the comics, sees himself in Sua, but it's deeply frustrating how he couldn't build the same sort of connection with Till and felt like he could only maintain a bond through violence.

Mizi seems to be the only human who was raised in a "stable home" (her alien seems to actually love her closest to a mother), but that's not enough to protect her from pain - after all, the alien's reasoning was that if Mizi likes singing, she should join. Yolo! Your human baby's life is so short! Sounds like outdoor cat owners to me. Ugh. All other pet humans are going through some flavor of parental abuse, and it all reflects in how they express their emotions and what sort of decisions they tend to take.

Till, in contrast to all that, more closely resembles the definition of looking at Mizi like an oshi/idol as a comfort to run from the pains of his life - he always looks hurt or abused, but Mizi is like medicine that even watching from far away makes him feel "saved" due to nurturing that "first love" that is heavily idealized. It's interesting how his character that is first introduced as somewhat violent or wild because of the smashing guitar and "addict"/drug imagery turns out to be one of the most sensitive.

The cloaked figure of Mizi in Blink Gone seems to resemble a saint or Mary (mother) holding a child in her lap as he takes his last breaths. She rushed into the crowd in a desperate attempt to save or at least comfort him in his predicament. Till's final position even resembles that of being crucified.

All that, however, makes Till unable to see Ivan properly - who is constantly around him and yearning for his attention, protecting and loving him in desperate ways that he doesn't realize until the very last minute. He is also seemingly detaching himself from the "real" world as a very "pure" child (shown in the way he loves with full devotion and his artistic inclinations), which of course, makes Ivan painful to face - who is a grounding entity and a reminder of the real world. The one who touches his wounds, who is "there" and not unreachable like a flower at the top of a mountain. That love between Ivan and Till got expressed in a way that was painful to both, but a very human act of a clashing selfish and selfless-ness.

None of them are built for this. They're trying to survive.

So far, what I've got is...Mizi and Sua set a standard of what is closest to a mutual love that was growing together in a relatively equal and healthy way. Ivan and Till were reworked to avoid overlap with them and are chosen to portray the sense of an immature, obsessive love and clashing emotions. It's interesting to me how much the creators stress the "one-sided" and controlling nature of Ivan for behind the scenes, and I feel like this does not mean that Till couldn't possibly return his feelings - after all, the Actor AU does show great chemistry between them. It's more like, within their living conditions and because of the emotional immaturity of both of them, they literally could not see eye to eye - Till looking at an idol out of reach (Mizi), and Ivan choosing to seek out his attention through violent means that confused Till, thus he was unable to respond to the intensity of what he felt and grow into it.

NOW. TO THE MAIN COURSE THAT IS ROTTING MY BRAIN: HYULUKA.

If we've got all those bases covered so far...where does that leave Hyuna and Luka?

(This is the most Mello/Near-like I've ever seen another ship pull off. My inner 13 yo is screaming. They're both incredibly gorgeous. How is a hetero couple simultaneously so BL and yuri-like in DRAMA AND IMAGERY? CLAMP would be proud...)

You see, there's no official answer about the true nature of their bond yet.

But I have a lot of speculations. It clearly looks like a rotten, strangled-by-the-red-string-of-fate sort bond that is just up my alley. THE MOST FUN IS GETTING TO BABBLE BEFORE GETTING AN ASSERTIVE ANSWER. I'm all for making a fool of myself, so let's get down to it.

To put it simply - I believe Hyuna and Luka's role is expressing the extremes of the setting itself and what "to love" means within it, with a turn for the worse and the tragedy of "not understanding" even if there is love.

How do you conquer an oppressive world in which all odds are against you? Would you overtake it through rebellion or would you strike at it from within?

In a world in which God's teachings have become lost to time and difficult to believe, does love strengthen or weaken you? If it causes pain and destruction, can it still be called love?

I think Hyuna and Luka are standing at opposite sides of those beliefs, and cannot understand each other's mindset.

Seems simple enough to write Luka as a mere villain final boss since he seems to be enjoying himself at the evil death game and Hyuna as the nice rebel who wants to save everyone, right? But it's confirmed Hyuna wasn't really trying to rescue more people like she had an opportune moment to do for Mizi.

The artbook also says something incredibly interesting about what the "Luka Syndrome" mentioned in one of the MVs really means - Luka's prestige as a performer is raising the prestige of pet humans. He also believes "Hyuna would be safe with him" - Why is that?

I think they might actually have similar goals and a similar stubborness in which they believe themselves to be the correct one and the other to be pitiful and foolish. Hyuna is trying to overthrow a system that is well-established and has far more power or influence than them, therefore she needs to resort to drastic measures and flashy means to assert dominance over the alien society.

Luka on the other hand, feels like he is using the system against it and exercising his own humanity while at it. Rather than tackling the incredibly daunting task of being a rebel with guns blazing, Luka became a master of the stage in a way that makes humans gain influence and thus become more valuable.Even if I try to think of it as "he's just trying to survive", that doesn't feel enough - because whenever he is not on stage, Luka looks dead inside already.

Especially in the arts he looks like a younger child or teenager, except for the ones after he seems more consistently approached by Hyuna. It's hard for me to think what moves him is a survival instinct. He is also portrayed like the typical "golden kid" syndrome victim - someone so systematically beaten to satisfy their narcissist guardian figure and submitted to so much pain that they eventually absorb part of that mindset as a way to have agency and autonomy over themselves. It gives the illusion of being successful and thus that the abuse was "effective", but it's like a curse that is difficult to break from.

I think both of them are older for a thematic reason. It feels like it could represent what it feels like, as adults, to no longer be able to hold onto naive or idealistic things about the world or society due to ignorance and having to choose a path to express your ideas and reach your goals through your "work".

Hyuna is guns blazing and "adult pleasures" - singing to an underground stage, trying to scrub off the wounds of her past with alcohol, and it's interesting that her guardian alien is portrayed like an "absent" parent figure - they have an interest in humans, but doesn't care about watching Hyuna when she first was eligible for Alien Stage. I wonder if they even are the one looking for her at all - seems to me it's more of an alien police thing because of her "crimes". Under that seemingly "thick" skin though, it seems clear that Hyuna is deeply affected by Luka still, and the loss of her brother. She deals with her wounds by not really dealing with them at all and guess what - it's a weak point. Her song is uplifting and refreshing, but she clearly demonstrates that closing your eyes to trauma and purely moving forward doesn't make them go away. In that sense, Mizi is a way she is trying to "mentor" someone navigate through loss.

I love outcasts and mildly autistic-coded characters, so I gravitated to Sua, Ivan and Luka right away.

(Extroverted cutie and the doomest doomer of the bunch. As a side note, their character design alone and contrast is genius and gorgeous. I'd expect 90% of the time for Luka to be the designated BL character and hardly do I ever see his archetype paired with the sort of sharp, striking beauty that Hyuna has so I definitely got giddy with them right away. She reminds me a lot of Michiko Malando and Luka reminds me of Near, two characters I love a whole lot and funnily enough have the same mbti types the artbook describes them as - ESTP and INTJ. Ankt garden Luka looks somewhat closer to the AU versions of Luka, so gotta love both his origins and his twisted post-alnst/hyuun woo self)

I believe Hyuna bundles Luka with that trauma of grief and loss, and it's still unclear what their roles are in it and after the fact. While singing all in verses "We only get one life, so I'm living mine for me/'Cause I'm the one from your wildest dreams", Luka's face flashes through Hyuna's mind before even her brothers, like it's something that's always on the back of it and barely suppressed.

See...since VIVINOS loves the "more than meets the eye"/twist concept, something I'm expecting is for Hyuna's feelings not to be as black and white as blaming Luka and actually. It obviously was dysfunctional and isn't that....delicious???

I feel like a one-sided love or obsession wouldn't make sense to repeat as themes, and because of the heavy trauma associated in the backstory, it's not like a "healthy mutual love". To bridge the themes of MiziSua and IvanTill, I think Hyuna and Luka are being told in a way to express love as something that can also destroy instead of save, and their clashing ideologies come from a place of wanting to think "-I'M- right and want to be your god", instead of ever having been able to understand each other properly.

They have a similarly "corrupt" love that has a lot of guilt and regret built into it. Even with something awful as what happened to her brother, it's curious that Hyuna's mind first thinks of Luka in an "enamored" light - the scene looks pretty tender - but that's also attached to the weight of Hyun Woo's death.

I think It's likely that the twist is Hyuna having been the one who hurt her brother, even, considering the dynamic in these comics:

Luka and Hyun Woo compete for Hyuna's attention, and it's to be expected that none of them understand the boundaries and definitions of love too well. Hyuna and Hyun Woo seem to be naive and relatively raised in a decent way, submitted to superiority tests like the rest, but not directly abused. They seem to express their love for each other in a cheerful, healthy way, Hyuna probably because of her closeness to her brother (which is unusual for other pet humans to be able to do) is extremely physical in how she shows affection. She doesn't really reprimand Luka, and that creates an unhealthy dynamic in which Luka plays the victim - in spite of starting things - to enjoy Hyuna's attention. There is a cute comic that looks silly, but encapsulates it all:

Luka is a little shit that wants to be pampered. He knows he is physically weaker - if you come across a rabbit being hurt by a wolf, you wouldn't suspect the rabbit provoked it. So Hyuna constantly seems to take Luka's side regardless of what happened, wanting to have that protector role.

Luka on the other hand, has no reference of what it's like to be "loved". He is systematically abused and treated like an object - therefore, he perceives relationships in terms of "ownership". And I don't think Hyuna truly understands just what she is enabling when she encourages Luka to act the way he does or thinks his neediness is "cute".

Honestly, I think there's strong sexual abuse imagery in Luka's art and the presentation of his stage image as someone taking charge of their objectification. His clothing for stage always shows off his body one way or another and both Hyuna and him have this sensual imagery and approach to others, as if "reclaiming one's own body". The contrast of Luka's blank expression and the red collar indicating a mental breakdown in that artwork above featuring Heperu's shadow approaching him is truly chilling.

That boy has no reference of what a familial bond or love is like. And both his introspective nature and abuse seem to make it even worse for him to connect with his peers- in the artbook his only relationships listed are Hyuna and Mizi, in very negative ways. He is also said to have retreated deeper into his own world, because "no one can understand him". Again, checks out with the imagery of "gifted son" that is treated like a narcissistic parent's doll and that becomes desensitized to many things over time.

His alien guardian Heperu even looks vaguely phallic and Luka has body language of "trying to disappear" or soothing himself when not up the stage - hugging knees, looking smaller, sucking on sleeves, stimming with toys (rubik's cube). The scars on his chest seem related to the abuse of submitting him to pain to overcome fear and I theorize the scars on the side may have been for plastic surgery like abdominoplasty or even possibly removing ribs. Normally that would be done from the back, but hey - alien science, and he already had "tainted" scarred skin on the front, so it would make sense to try preserving his back. His waist is drawn really really thin. It's also mentioned that he had a strict diet even though he is a big eater - that is, Heperu is deeply violating his agency in accordance with Lookism.

Luka has all the makings of a really tragic character and reminds me of Kamiki Hikaru's construction in Oshi no Ko. A victim turned abuser in some ways, as a way to seek autonomy, self expression and living for their ideals and love, no matter how twisted it has become.

There's a comic that has a "flashback" of anakt garden and Hyuna being asked by Luka if she likes to sing. The POV of Hyuna's face looks as soft as Luka's does from hers. She tells him that they don't have freedom for anything else, but when she is up at the stage, it's like her life is "her own", so she likes it. The image of Luka singing as an adult suggests that even now, those are the words he pictures and that is the image of Hyuna that is alive in his mind.

In a way, both of them are deeply attached to the past, and while Hyuna wants to shut it down completely and regrets it having happened, Luka's feelings are twisted.

We don't know much about the kiss. Considering the "sucking on forehead" comics, I get the feeling Hyuna was startled by the sudden escalation from Luka acting as a passive, cute pet and jumping her with so much intensity, but may not necessarily have pushed him away. The following fight could either have happened because Hyuna became withdrawn as a result of suddenly becoming aware of the effect she was having on Luka and what their feelings for each other were (since previously, she might not have been able to tell the difference between being all over her brother and all over Luka) /or/ the scenario played out like the forehead sucking. She didn't dislike it, but Luka became insistent or they got caught in a way that Hyuun Woo had no context for, thus assuming Luka was forcing her.

And there is a third option too that now I think about it, seems the /most/ likely: the growing proximity to Hyuna made Luka's feelings of "wanting ownership and exclusivity" even deeper because of love and lust, as simply being assured he is "loved" doesn't seem to be enough for Luka. It could be that Hyuna in fact disliked his attempt of kissing her and became more distant to him. Thus, he orchestrated for Hyuna to take his side once again for validation in a reckless way - but the results were "better than he thought" when it resulted in Hyuun Woo's death. Because, that is a price so heavy that it feels like "wow, you actually chose me".

This scene is super interesting, I love Luka's expression. It's joyful in a "perverse" way. He was successful in trapping his beloved Hyuna. And it seems that the emotion is so intense, like he is finally free from the mask of pitiful wounded animal with no agency over himself that the sheer ecstasy might have caused a seizure or heart attack, hence his eyes looking glassy afterwards and his fingers finally turning the blue/purple hue we see on his older design.

Skimming through the patreon posts, I was pleasantly surprised to realize my gut feeling about Ivan and Luka having a similar core wasn't wrong. Sua in comparison is the scenario of someone who doesn't go off to the deep end as the two of them. It's often stressed that the team was worried about establishing Luka and Ivan as distinguishable - their personalities are similar, but their masks are different. Ivan presents himself as the "big bro", while actually being a boy struggling with properly expressing emotions that went as far as practicing smiles and expresions at the lake. Whereas Luka is like a porcelain doll and passive - austere, even...but what about his real self?

We're cleverly prevented from seeing an introductory MV for Luka, as round 4 doesn't happen. And for the subsequent videos, Luka shows himself partially by not disclosing his POV, but showing important sides of himself - the urge to control and the attempts to "become whatever is desired of him". A blank slate.

In a sense, that's implying to me Ivan and Luka's stage presence is an expression of their "inner selves", where their feelings and thoughts become bare. Ivan does so by casting aside his big bro warmth and stepping in as the image of a serious-faced, strongly devoted man that is coming apart at the seams with the weight of his immaturity, sadness, love and obsession.

Luka's stage presence is a distant cry from his image of passiveness and class behind the scenes. On stage, he is a seasoned performer and a calculating prince that enjoys pulling the strings to reach the ideal performance as seen in his inner world. He cunningly displays a different expression between the audience and his partners to achieve the ideal results. Luka acts like both a director and an actor while performing, in order to construct his vision - He's bold, confident and invades people's personal spaces.

(What a condescending little shit. I love him. His expression seems to be saying something like..."Done already? Hmph. I expected more of you. You need to do something for me to do my part and shine, too."

A point I theorize about Ruler of My Heart - Hyuna says in the artbook, I think, that Mizi reminds her of herself. Luka would be able to pick up on that also, especially since Mizi had just been broken by the loss of the one she loved most and formerly had that spark of "hope and dreaming high" in her eyes. Luka may have chosen the song specifically to have Mizi recreate the "role of Hyuna" envisioned for it - as in, he never expected her to be obedient at all. He was riling her up to feel what Hyuna might have responded like to this song. But the Hyuna in his idealization is probably "blazing, absolute and strong" - instead of shutting down and giving up singing. Mizi lets herself get intimidated by his provocation into silence, but when she loses it to punch him in the face with no regard for the consequences - like Hyuna surely would do - is when he finally smirks. It's also a mockery of letting emotions take her over, securing his win and further reinforcing he is "in the right". )

Another interesting tidbit is that Luka's personality isn't of the ethereal "pitiful-but-nice" character, but rather something that "fits VIVINOS taste". He is also compared frequently to Ivan in personality/mindset, who is described as a "bad boy" with a possessive/manipulative streak. If the sides of Ivan we get to see that related to Till are fairly tame and the team worries so much about contrast, that seems to imply that Luka embraces the more extreme parts left out of Ivan.

Even more interesting than that is the core of Luka's character inspiration - "the little prince", which I assume most people have read before. It's a children's book about an adult meeting a little prince from space and basically sharing life lessons.

If we look a little beyond the "cute blond kid"/moon motif...the most striking aspect about the Little Prince is probably the idea of the rose and the fox. The immature prince is taught the concept of love and responsibility by a wild fox - that to tame someone is to make them unique, and it's the time spent nurturing that love that makes it precious. The prince had been frustrated by a Rose he thought he loved, but grew annoyed by because he could not understand her. He also was confused upon realizing there were many roses in the universe, but his was too selfish and flawed. So is she not as unique as he thought? He starts missing the rose, and learns that there IS a difference - none of the roses are "his" or sound like "his" - because if they have tamed each other, going forward, he isn't just any little boy to his rose anymore - he is "the" boy, and she is "the" rose, unique in the universe.

This feels extremely relevant to a character presented as a "product" of gene editing and, basically, being created in a lab. The implication to me is that there may be many other "Luka"-like humans - the vast array of congenital diseases he manifests such as heart disease, Raynaud syndrome, asthma and chronic migraine all make him sound like their universe's equivalent of a white pug dog with dubious origins to boot.

What makes that test tube baby, raised by a ruthless alien that doesn't care about him as more than a way to vicariously live a life of success and luxury, unique in that case?

Love.

And my take is that, the fox and rose to his little prince are the siblings Hyun Woo and Hyuna.

(I'm suddenly reminded of the Vanitas no Carte Louis-Domi-Noé trio. Why do those never end well?)

IMO the rift created between Hyuna's brother and Luka wasn't necessarily there from the start. Before getting more strongly attached or opening up to Hyuna, Luka looks extremely detached. Hyuna's brother looked like the picture of excitement and youth, so it feels like he could have reached out to the quiet boy first and Hyuna tagged along. The settings mention something along the lines of Hyuna not quite being the origin of the "dreamer" outlook, but being inspired by her brother, and I can picture it.

Hyuna's MV All in and her relationship with Mizi painted to me the picture of a girl that is naturally attractive - her drive and sunny disposition are simply dazzling. But, underneath, there seems to be "something" doesn't it? I think Hyuna's charm comes from a mix of strength and vulnerability. She seems like the type of person to cope with humor and being flirty in order to lift people's moods and surprise them, but Hyuna herself can have quite heavy and serious feelings. The somber look suits her, and it's overall impressive that she didn't completely break because of her brother. It's like her innate talent for performing draws people to her, but at the same time she can sustain an illusion of "closeness", her true worries and wounds are kept deep inside and she doesn't let others truly see into her.

So.

What's shown in Blink Gone to me is that Luka's not merely surviving a death game, he is enjoying the show and trying to feel alive. To someone like him that probably already feels dead inside all the time and was "abandoned" by Hyuna, there is nothing much to look forward to. We don't know what happened between Hyuun Woo's death and their first alien stage run (quite a lot, since Hyuna even lost a leg) ot the timing of their relationship fall out. Given their memories and image of eachother, it does seem to be implied they were already going separate ways right after the incident.

It's likely that what connects Luka to Hyuna's memory the most is the feeling of performing itself - the one time he gets to be free. Luka acts like he is superior to the other pet humans for having "figured out" the system and feeding into it, and looks down on them for having no control over their emotions. But does he really have total control over his own?

In spite of all the abuse he embraced as his own will or believing he could truly get any power by playing the game according to its rules and "overcoming fear", someone as unpredictable and impulsive as Till is the natural enemy of someone like Luka. He had the upper hand as long as it stayed within his plan, but Till suddenly going as far as going back to the green light indicator was worrisome. Luka's Stamina is actually rather crappy, so if Till did decide to go all out, he might have been cooked.

I think, to Luka, it's probably about more than keeping himself alive. And Till flipping the game then would have made him waste his life on a performance that was supposed to be easy -and- it must be annoying that Till strayed off-script. My hypothesis is that he wants to reach out to Hyuna, still - either by increasing the influence of humans to shift the world closer to the one she envisioned, or by putting his life in the line at the stage as many times as possible to feel the "weight" of her presence as if she still were by his side or to grow so famous that she cannot ignore or escape him.

Deliciously hypocritical of him to look down on others so much, when Hyuna's unannounced presence shook him so badly he turned his back to the stage and stared at her with an expression we'd never seen before.

My take is that her walking in like this is seriously the worst scenario to him. Luka expresses in the artbook that he pities Hyuna and that her safety would have been guaranteed with him, so - because of his influence - I think he might actually have gone to the Alien Stage again to secure his power status AND request to keep Hyuna out of it. A condescending sort of domestication we know she would hate, but would keep her safe.

But see. Even if she wasn't under his care, being out there causing a ruckus is one thing - she's alive and kicking, not really in the slaughterhouse. He can live with that. So, he sings to his heart's content. And...

His sneering that people are suuuch rookies at controlling their emotions...

Sooo weak to let their emotions and regrets dominate them and make them lose sight of the stage, compared to his Super Competent self that can overcome fear and control his own heart rate...

All came back to bite him in the ass, like an idiot.

All other characters were pitted against their worst case nightmare scenario, and I doubt the Prince will be an exception. I really don't think his type of obsessive is wanting to be superior to or beat Hyuna at performing either, even if it's his guardian's mindset (it seems Heperu feels inferior to Hyuna's guardian and adopted Luka simply as a means of beating him - so seems very possible he will push for having the two face off and prove Luka's "superiority").

No matter what he does now, it's either Hyuna against Mizi at the risk of death or Hyuna against him. Hyuna's a wanted criminal - there is absolutely no talking a way out of that one. Not only that, Hyuna's bleeding from her wound already. Luka facing against Hyuna as the second time champion would mean being forced to choose - keep rulling the stage, or chose the one who was his guiding light in the first place?

The imagery from the sweet dream opening (as well as Luka having covered that song) is "release" - Luka dying at Hyuna's hand even if it's not something she can truly do with pleasure, no matter how much she copes with her past wounds by hating him. I wonder if it's a red herring or if it will play out, I particularly want whatever will allow to explore their character, feelings and motivation the deepest.

I don't think Hyuna wandered onto the stage for his sake - it seems like it's for Mizi, who is completely frozen. Hyuna probably has up until now coped with hating Luka because he represented everything she was rebelling against - the "system" itself. A nasty cog in the engine of the aliens who, even if not directly, ultimately were the cause of the entire context that stripped her away of her freedom and lead to her precious brother's death.

However...

My guess to what's happening here isn't "wow your outfit is so slutty" or "you've grown". It's more like...Luka suddenly looks too human.

He wasn't supposed to.

...Phew. That's all for now. The ADHD gets strong when I'm talking about something that tickles my brain, so I hope that wasn't too messy/unintelligible to follow with the back and forth jumping timelines or repeating points of interest I did.

Well! I really, really wish there was more for me to keep going, but for now I'll live with overthinking with what we have. I might do separate analysis/speculation for the MVs if I have a deadline I'm procrastinating on come up the time.

Bottom line is, I think all those characters are very interesting, but Hyuluka are the ones I'm rotating like a rotisserie chicken in my mind. Plz hurt me more VIVINOS team and thanks for the good fucking food

#longpost #alnst #all ships mentioned in a way or another #but i'm a #hyuluka #truther #meta #nana rambles #alien stage #the sign i'm getting into something new i'm hyperfixating is writing the messiest review possible #alnst spoilers #spoilers #hyunluka #turns out I felt like unpacking a lot of thoughts first #luka black sorrow cover when #IVAN BLINK GONE WHEN #alnst luka #alnst hyuna

64 notes · View notes

ilooklikeaburntchickenugget · 1 month ago

Note

helloo! idk if youre taking requests, but if you do i was thinking of revenge era gee with fem reader who is also a well know singer. like shes on tour and does some festival mcr is playing at and shes really mainstream so the guys dont have high expectations on her music but then they watch her play and they're like "fuck, she actually does know what shes doing" and somehow her and gee exchange numbers and start texting all day long bc theyre both on tour

idk if this makes any sense tbh.

i saw one picture of ts on the red tour that looks like if it was taken with a shitty flip phone and thought of this somehow

anyway, feel free to ignore this and have a good day :D

Title: Happily Ever Accident

A/N: Hey y'all I know it's been actually forever but I saw this in my inbox and thought it was cute so managed to somehow write this amidst midterms season. Idk how but it happened. It's also not thoroughly proof-read because tbh I'm tried and lazy right now. But here's some content for y'all for once. Also, side note, but as I was writing this I was visioning reader as a Sabrina Carpenter-esc figure. Just in the sense of popularity, stage presence, etc. Pairing: Gerard Way (circa mid-2005) x F!PopStar!Reader Word count: 7,978 words Warnings: Swearing, mentions of insecurity

Low expectations. The constant standard he had set for almost every single festival his band was expected to play.

It wasn’t that Gerard didn’t like other people’s music, or festivals for that matter, but considering the label had cornered them into a small handful of non-genre restrictive ones he was annoyed. The culture, the vibes, the people- this was not his place. Not his band’s place, for that matter.

But commercialism was the name of the game, he had learned that early on. He was lucky enough the label had allowed their last album to be artistically driven by him, from songs and lyrics to the artwork on the cover. But there is always a quid-pro-quo in the entertainment industry. And playing at a mainstream festival was apparently one of them.

They wouldn’t have agreed to this had their last music video not gone over budget by a significant amount, and now they were paying the price. On top of that the label had encouraged them to be in public, watch other bands play from the VIP tents. Gerard narrowly lost his shit after trying time and time again explain that they needed time to prep for their show, get in the proper mindset, and that would take all the morning into late afternoon when they were finally on. The label exec begged to differ, giving no ultimatum.

“Fucking hell, if we have to listen to another fucking basic pop artist I’m going to lose my mind.” Frank sighed walking through the festival grounds. The group was by no means blending in, as three security guards stood around them and they could easily hear and see people left and right gawking at them as if they were circus animals.

“Good fucking luck with that.” Ray replied. He was never the sarcastic type, if anything he was the most mature and level-headed. So when he had enough, everyone knew it was bad.

“We have one more.” Gerard too sighed, sticking his hands aggressively in his jean pockets. “Then we’re off the fucking hook.” The group took sighs of relief out of sync.

“Who is it?” Frank asked, seeming halfway curious.

“Uh-“ Gerard stopped, checking his phone to see what their manager had texted them. “Great. Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

“Fuck me.” Frank sighed. “My head is going to fucking explode. Listen, I like all music, but I cannot do this much commercial, manufactured pop.”

“I don’t know, her stuff doesn’t seem as bad as some of the others.” Mikey chimed in for the first time.

“How would you know? I’ve only heard her shit in Targets.” Frank speedily replied.

“Social media, I guess. Enough sound clips from her songs have blown up to make them pretty hard to miss.”

“I’m still keeping my expectations low.” Frank shrugged.

“It’s the last one, try to be somewhat positive.” Ray replied halfheartedly.

“We’re never going over budget on anything again.” Gerard quickly added, turning a corner to the next stage’s area. “I can’t fucking do this.”

She got nervous before shows. She was great at hiding it. But in the last few weeks every festival she was playing had crowds growing bigger and bigger. From what her manager had communicated to her approximately two minutes ago, she had the biggest recorded crowd so far for the second day.

Staring at herself in the mirror of the green room, she pushed every bad thought out of her mind. She even closed her eyes and imagined all the bad energy within her swooping out of her body in swirls of dust and being replaced with positive rays of sunshine. It might’ve been stupid, but it worked.

She opened her eyes, putting on her signature smile, looked herself up and down, reminded herself that she was incredibly sexy at the moment, and b-lined it for the door.

Anxiety be damned, her ambitions had gotten her this far and would get her further, she knew that much. She was happy at this point to be thrown into the group of “pop girlies” currently dominating the charts, because it meant she was catering to an already large fan base, and proving others wrong in their assumptions too.

Give a girl some platform boots, a tight outfit where the tops integrity around her chest was questionable, and a microphone- then you’ve got a pop star.

Gerard stood there amazed. He could not fucking believe it.

Three songs in and he was mesmerized. He wasn’t sure if he was more shocked with her or himself. He was trying to rack his brain for reasons to not like this, and blank answers came up time and time again.

To begin with, her songs were substantially above average for pop. They had creative instrumentals, catchy sounds, and her lyrics were truly the star of the show.

But then he took into account her as a person. She was quite attractive, sure. He had seen her enough online and in magazines to see at least that much, but he was sure most of the male population and a decent amount of the female population also saw that. But here, in this light, in that tight little outfit that showed off all the right things just enough to give a good idea, but still leave a good amount to the imagination, he was falling head over heels.

He was almost flustered with her perfection in his eyes, having to catch himself to make sure wasn’t staring like a dog at a bone. After all, there were enough people around to know him and take photos, which would lead to massive and weird speculation online that he simply didn’t want to deal with.

And her stage presence was empowering. She was confident, not selfish. She was sexy as much as she was innocent. She was clear in her intentions and messages, just as much when she left some ideas not fully complete to leave people longing and wondering.

Suddenly he understood all the teenage girls in the audience. She was fucking incredible.

“Told you.” Mikey said next to him with a smirk. It was hard for Gerard to look away from her, but he did. “Don’t always believe stereotypes man. You out of all people should know better.”

“That really wasn’t so bad after all.” Frank shrugged as the group walked back to their own green room, hidden in an array of tents set up on the edge of the festival grounds.

“Yeah, but standing in the heat for that long was exhausting.” Ray commented next, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets. He was always tense until they got all the equipment set up and knew everything was going to go right.

“I don’t know man, that last show kinda rocked.” Mikey responded. “Been trying to tell you guys that not all pop artists are that bad.”

“Well, a lot of them are.” Frank quickly rebutted. “However, you are right, that last one was incredible. I just thought having a girlfriend who obsesses over pop music had gotten to your head.” Mikey rolled his eyes.

Gerard was silent, partially because he didn’t really have anything to say, and partially because he was hanging on to the last show. He learned through years of art school and sketching under cubicle lights that some of the best art was clear as day yet still left you thinking. That was how he felt at the moment. Dwelling in the really astounding feeling he had.

She had single handedly proved a lot of his fallacies wrong. And he saw with his very eyes how she managed to go from half the crowd being into her to the master tools her voice and movement had that puppeteer the crowd like a pro. Who was he kidding though- she clearly was a pro.

Turning a corner he was so lost in his thoughts, his body in auto drive and his vision turned to the cement ground. He knew he needed to stop thinking soon, get in the right headspace for his own show- and then he bumped into something.

His body lost a bit of its control as his right arm collided with something a bit smaller than him. Suddenly he regained all his consciousness as his stabled his footing again, turning his body to see what it was.

And there, low and behold, in those damn platform boots and an oversized hoodie that went so far down her thighs it was a dress, was the very woman who had captured his mind just minutes ago. She was lingering within him, and now she was right here.

Fate works in strange ways.

“Shit, I’m so sorry-“ She began, regaining her own balance as she clearly took more of a hit than he did given that she was shorter and had boots that, despite looking like they weighed a ton, he doubted helped to ground her any more.

“No, that was my fault.” He quickly interrupted, growing embarrassed as she looked up and he realized he had managed to be rude to her in the last 30 seconds not once but twice. “I should’ve been looking out.”

“Me too.” She calmly replied with a small smile, handing this with so much grace and calmness compared to his internal panic.

This close she managed to look even better than on the screens. Photos and videos didn’t do her beauty justice. She looked almost like a doll- near perfect features, beautiful hair, and a smile that was so comforting and cute and graceful. Her makeup was almost as perfect as it was when she went on, but her mascara was ever so smeared around the corner of her eyes, her lipstick fading, and hell- his mind couldn’t help but wander to a place where he wondered what it would be like if he had put her in this state. And then he shut those thoughts up as quickly as they appeared, choosing instead to wonder how anyone could be more perfect.

“I um- I better get going and leave you guys to get to your show.” She quickly said, but froze up not even a moment later, her eyes growing wide with embarrassment of her own. “Shit that was weird wasn’t it? I don’t know you but- well I do, kinda, but like not personally. I mean knowing your music and band and-“ she stopped talking not knowing what to say, her body almost shrinking in a sense of even more embarrassment. “Fuck. I’m gonna shut up now.”

Gerard gave a chuckle and a smile of his own. He felt better now that both of them felt embarrassed.

“No, it’s okay.” He replied. “We’re just coming from your show, actually.” Somehow she froze even more. He could tell under that huge gray hoodie her muscles had tensed further.

“Oh, uh, I hope you enjoyed it.” She softly smiled, polite but seeming almost nervous. Why was he so bad about talking to women, especially pretty ones?

“It was phenomenal, actually.” He replied, nervous himself and instinctively rubbing the back of his neck with one of his hands. There was already a thin layer of sweat connecting back there from standing in the heat for so long. But he didn’t care about that nor how he would survive the heat on his stage later- all he cared about right now was not completely fucking up this interaction with the woman in front of him.

“Are you just saying that to be nice?” She asked with a pouty lip as she clearly questioned the integrity of his response. He rapidly shook his head.

“No, of course not. I don’t lie- ever. If anything I went into the show not knowing much- not in a bad way, I mean kinda in an ignorant way if I’m being honest, and you just- fuck, man, the way you controlled that crowd was so exciting and empowering. It truly was incredible.”

Her face looked like a damn puppy dog begging for a treat. If he weren’t human he would have definitely melted by that look. Big eyes and a genuine smile, her cheeks big and emphasizing her reaction.

“That’s really sweet, thank you so much.” She replied, yet again with grace that he wished he had in these moments. “I um- while I would love to talk more I need to take a shower. I feel so sticky and just- gross. But it was really nice talking to you. And thanks so much for watching me, I really appreciate the feedback.”

His heart broke just a bit.

“Yeah, of course.” He replied, and before he could think he blurted out. “You’re more than welcome to come to ours as well, I mean I’m sure you have the artist VIP tent access, but if you wanna get closer I can definitely arrange a barricade pass for you.”

Her eyes lit up and glowed in a way he wished he could see every single day.

“That’s amazing!” She replied. “Would it be selfish to ask for one more too? My best friend is here and she likes you guys too-“

“Consider it done.” He smiled as she smiled back. “I’ll have my manager send them over to your trailer.”

“Thank you, that’s very sweet of you.” She replied.

“It’s the least I can do. Returning the favor of watching your show and providing feedback.”

“Does that mean I need to take notes for yours and give them to you too?” She asked with a playful smile. Just now he noticed the water bottle in her hand with a straw as she took a sip and damn- he quickly erased all the dirty thoughts that rushed into his mind before it was too late.

“Only if you want to.” Where had this confidence in him come from? He didn’t even know. But right now it was working, and that was all that mattered. Yet again, his body thought before his mind as he said, “Give me your number and we can arrange a meetup. To, ya know, exchange notes and whatnot.”

She seemed flustered, but hid it well. However, the red blush growing on her cheeks and her face that froze yet again for a mere moment told him maybe she wasn’t all that good at this either. But hey, there was a learning opportunity for both of them, he supposed.

“Sure.” She said, as he grabbed his phone, handing it to her as she quickly typed it in.

Y/F/N Y/L/N it read on his screen, the line of numbers under it.

“It was nice meeting you, Y/F/N.” He smiled.

“You too-“ She said, but stopped herself. “I know your first name but I don’t want to say it before you do because that’s creepy.”

He let out a genuine laugh.

“Gerard.” He said.

“Gerard.” She replied. “I’ll see you later, Gerard.”

“So what you’re telling me is Gerard Way wants to fuck you?” Lacey asked her. But she supposed this is why people had best friends- to be both supportive, honest, and borderline crude all at the same time.

“I don’t know if he wants to fuck me-“

“He wants to ‘exchange notes’ on your shows? Code words for ‘come back to my trailer and let’s have sex’.” She said with confidence, sitting down and scrolling through her own phone as Y/F/N changed into a solid black hoodie and jeans to not make her presence obvious. Their show was not about her, and she hoped her presence wouldn’t make it about her.

“Well, I don’t just fuck guys. And I’ll be happy to tell him that if he tries. But he seemed very sweet, and all the interviews of him lean towards him being a very nice guy.” Y/F/N responded quickly, borderline defensive.

“Nice guys can have hookups too, ya know.” Lacey said. She wasn’t wrong, but Y/F/N swore this felt different.

“Regardless, that’s not happening with me.”

“Preach, sister.” Lacy said with a bit of pop in her voice. “If what you’re saying is true, it did sound like you have him wrapped around your finger.”

“We talked for like two minutes. I barely know him, he barely knows me.” Y/F/N rolled her eyes, expertly reapplying her lip gloss in a small mirror.

“Do you know that amount of men after your shows that would fall on their knees and beg for you?” Lacey asked, finally looking up from her phone to make eye contact in the mirror.

“Whatever.” Y/F/N sighed. “I’m just excited we have barricade to a My Chem show. How long have we been wanting to see them?”

“A solid year.” Lacey admitted, standing up to find her shoes. “I’m still not over Gerard Way wanting to fuck you, though.”

Y/F/N was sure rumors would be circulating by morning. As soon as she entered the VIP barricade area alongside Lacey, there was a sudden eruption of screams, and as she looked over a sea of phones were taking photos and videos of her. She gave a polite smile and wave before turning back around towards the stage, hoping as soon as the band got on the attention was going to divert away from her.

Damn her for thinking having a black hoodie on with the hood up would prevent this.

Within minutes though, as the lights on the stage went pitch black and screams from the entire crowd erupted she knew that finally she could just enjoy seeing a band she really liked play from right in front of her. Perks of being a pop star or whatever.

She had to admit that the in-person performance easily knocked any of the recorded ones she saw online out of the fucking park. And while Gerard Way had always been objectively attractive, and happened to be the skinny sad white boy that was her type for whatever reason, he looked really attractive in this light. Like a new skin of confidence took over him. Maybe it was the tight black skinny jeans or fake bullet proof vest with no shirt on under it that perfectly sculpted his lightly muscular arms- and damn the hands. Masculine hands were one of her weaknesses. And his very much fit into that category.

So did she have any notes after the show? No, actually. It was exactly what she had expected, but two fold. She was left amazed and energized as they walked off.

If he really wanted to compare notes with her he was going to be sorely disappointed in the lack of notes she had.

That night did not end with them sharing notes about the others show. Instead, it ended with them sitting on a grassy patch of the festival grounds when it emptied out talking about anything and everything. Gerard had quickly realized how multi-faceted of a person Y/F/N was. Every preconceived notion he had of her was torn down by her random knowledge about random things, her admissions to cringey teen phases she had, cute childhood stories, dichotomy of family and how difficult that could be to navigate.

She was fucking perfect inside and out. And he knew he couldn’t lose her.

In an assertive nature he decided to text her more through the next week. She was on tour in one town, and he was in another. But that didn’t matter. Every other day, or three days apart maximum, they would call from their hotel rooms, or from outside his bus, and talk. About everything. Their days, their histories. What they ate, what they did or didn’t like, who they saw, where they were next, what they wanted to do, asking the other about cool things to do in the city they were in for that day.

And finally, a little less than two weeks after they met, they had that talk.

“So what are we?” She asked over the phone, sitting on her bed and nervously picking at her brightly colored nails. She needed to know before she got too attached and her heart broken further down the line when she was way deeper in than she was now. Not that rejection now wouldn’t hurt- she was trying to save herself from more potential hurt later.

“Seeing each other?” He asked. “I mean, no pressure- we can always take it slower.“

“I would like for us to be ‘seeing each other’.” She replied with a smile growing on her face.

“Great, then we’re seeing each other.” He decided, she could hear the small smile in his own voice despite not seeing him.

“We have a four day break coming up.” He mentioned on a call. A few weeks had blown by, and things felt very normal between them given how abnormal their situation was.

“Okay.” She replied simply, wanting him to go on.

“I want to come see you, if that’s okay.”

“Okay.” She replied again, not hesitant- but a mixture of excited and logistically starting to play a mind puzzle about how this was going to work.

“Just okay?” He asked, now sounding more hesitant himself but equally as confused.

“No, I just mean- like, yes, please come, I really want to see you, but if people see us together again, I think it will kinda be obvious. I- it’s not that I don’t want to show you off, but I kinda like the direction we’re going in now. I don’t want public speculation or opinion to fuck that up.”

Even in a fucking baseball cap and sunglasses at her show, people would grow suspicious of that figure in the secluded family/friends area. They would equally as quickly figure out, judging by the firestorm online caused by her presence at their show the night they met, who it was. And then they would be official without actually saying anything. Just by being together.

She wouldn’t mind being official to the public, eventually. But she wanted more time to have just them to herself.

“I can stand off to the side behind the stage.” He offered.

“Your view is gonna suck.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Okay then.” She replied affirmatively.

“Okay?” He asked for clarification.

“Yes, okay.” She softly smiled with a giggle. “Come to the shows, I even have a hotel room booked one of the nights.”

“Oh fancy.” He replied with a chuckle. “Lookin’ forward to it.”

She shouldn’t have been nervous. He had seen her perform before.

Well once- the first time they met, and then twice on TV in the last few weeks since her career had managed to blow up even further. But this felt different. It was different.

She knew he could now have expectations of her. What if he didn’t like something, or got the ick from the way she danced or what if she fucked up? What if she tripped on stage for the first time or bumped into something or forgot a lyric or her voice went out-

“On in two.” She heard one of the stage techs say, peeking their head through her green room door. As if one queue, she heard a roar of screams from the direction of the stage, queueing that her little intro video had started. Despite still playing smaller venues, at least ones smaller than arenas, her label had actually been willing to put quite the production into her tour after realizing that her stage presence and personality was one of the things that charmed audiences so much.

She gave herself one final look over in the mirror. Her opening outfit was standard- a body con number decked out in black sequence with red accents and her infamous knee high boots that were plain leather, but that she had begun to notice were also being worn more commonly by fans to her shows. It was one of those trademark things that made her feel more like the pop star she was growing to be. At least the headlines called her that.

Taking her hands, she fluffed out her hair a bit more giving her light waves more volume, dropping them, closing her eyes, and reopening them in her stage persona.

She walked out of the door beginning her strut with the sense of confidence she only gained to this level when she knew she was going to be on stage. As she approached side stage, her bedazzled microphone with her initials on it in small rhinestones at the bottom was waiting for her with one of the stage assistance. She gave him a small smile and nod as a thank you, taking it delicately and wrapping her hand around it firmly.

Her in-ear monitored queued up with her sound guy, Jeremy, who gave her the 20 second warning. She allowed herself one final deep breath, realizing this was her time to shine. Even if he was here for the first time watching her as the guy she was seeing, and just generally in a new light, she recalled meeting him for the first time after a show, figuring if she could impress him once maybe she could do it again.

After all, the version of herself that managed to get his attention in the first place was the one who was about to step into the spotlight in a mere three seconds.

Sweaty, hot, tired, worn, happy. The best ways to describe how she felt almost every night coming off stage.

She felt great about this show. The crowds she was dealing with were getting better at each stop, she figured it was venues being sold out and her rapid growth as an artist that was to thank for their enthusiasm and their increased screaming of her own lyrics back to her.

But what made this show so special was seeing him in one of the boxes up and over from the crowd. He kept a low profile with a plain t-shirt and baseball cap, standing next to Lacey through the entire duration, but the occasional eye contact they made was what kept her going.

He was always at least smiling at her. If not he was beaming, or nodding, swaying to the music, and her favorite was when he was so focused on just her that she caught his lower lip being bitten, his eyes glued straight onto her. She knew she always had most if not all of the crowd in a trance- but tonight his attention was the one she really wanted.

She giggled at something her manager had said as they walked through the back hallways of the venue, sipping on her bottled water through a straw and trying to regain as much hydration and energy as possible. As the turned a corner toward the green room, she paused and gave a big toothy smile as she saw him at the end of the hallway.

There was Gerard, still in his relatively incognito outfit, and a full smile as their eyes met. As fast as she could manage to run in her boots, she made her way down the hall and collided with his torso, breaking out into a fit of giggles as he hugged her back.

“Did you like it?” She asked first, letting her chin fall on his chest as she looked up at him with big doe eyes hoping for a good answer.

“You fucking killed it.” He said affirmatively with a smile, leaning down to give her a quick kiss. “You’re absolutely insane out there. Such a natural- fuck, I wish I had half the confidence and ability you do when I’m on stage.”

“Oh stop it!” She playfully and lightly hit his shoulder as she backed away to walk back to her room with him. In the process he swiftly grabbed her hand in his, intertwining their fingers which made her smile even more. “Don’t give yourself any less credit- you’re a fucking beast on stage.” He leaned down and gave her a kiss on the head.

“But nothing like you.” He replied, holding the door open for her as they entered back in so she could change.

She quickly and stealthily changed into a shirt and sweatpants, sitting down to take her makeup off, or at least that’s what she would typically do. But as she sat and looked at herself in the vanity mirror, catching a glimpse of him in the back scrolling on his phone, she wasn’t so sure she felt all that confident with him in person without all of this on.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, catching her in a trance. Damn, why did he have to be so good on picking up these things?

“Nothing.” She said with a soft smile. His body language with a raised eyebrow implied he definitely did not believe that. “I just- should I take my makeup off?” She asked turning to him. He gave her an even more confused look.

“Is it what you normally do?” He asked and she nodded. “Then yeah, take your makeup off.” She didn’t move, still staring at him. “Baby, what’s wrong- actually?” She groaned.

“It’s so stupid.” She admitted, now looking away from him. “I just- I don’t want you to like, I don’t know, not like me without this on.”

He looked a bit shocked and confused at look, but it quickly melted into sympathy.

“Sweetheart, take your makeup off.” He requited with a sweet tone. “I promise you, I will not view you any differently without makeup on. That is such a minor thing. And I’m not with you for your looks- I mean, you are fucking gorgeous- but that’s with or without makeup.”

“Fine.” She replied, grabbing some of her cotton pads and makeup remover, then going to town on delicately running them over her skin and cleaning everything off.

Once she was done, only a few minutes later, she grabbed her bag and regular shoes, slipping them on and getting up to approach him where he leaned next to the door. As soon as she was a few inches from him, he delicately took her face in his hands.

“See, just as gorgeous as always.” He softly smiled, giving her a soft and passionate kiss. She offered a sheepish smile and a growing blush on her cheeks.

“Thank you.” She nervously replied. “We gotta go though- I’m fucking starving.”

“Holy shit.” She said, taking another forkful of pasta and placing it into her mouth. “This is so fucking good.”

“Mhm.” He nodded in agreement taking a bite of his own. It was nice to have some company to actually eat with, and not just pull out her laptop to watch a show or call her parents who were halfway across the country. Now, she had her boyfriend laid across the bed sideways in front of her as she sat criss cross at the head.

“You want a bite?” She asked. He looked at her skeptical for a moment before nodding, allowing her to grab another few pieces, giving them to him.

“Well, shit.” He sighed with a smile. “That is fucking amazing.” She nodded in agreement. There was a brief moment of silence that followed.

“I hate that we have to go back to being, like- normal.” She said. It was one of those thoughts that just spilled out without her even thinking.

“Hm?” He asked, looking up with his eyebrows furrowed.

“Ya know, like being apart for so long.” She said with a tight smile. “We’ve barely spent any time together in person but every time we do I want to spend more and more- and we can’t.” He sighed, putting his fork down in his container.

“I know, baby.” He softly said, taking his now free hand and placing it on her bare thigh, rubbing small circles into the skin with his thumb. “But it’s only another month- then we’re on break and I’ll come be with you as long as you want.”

“Gee, you should get a break.” She said with a serious face. “You need to go home and settle for a few weeks and be with your family and friends there who you haven’t seen in fucking forever.” He shrugged.

“I’ve had all the time in the world to make relationships with them- I want to continue to build ours, and if that means going on tour with you than so be it.” He replied with confidence.

“Even if we do that people will speculate and- we would have to go public.” She explained.

“Is that such a bad thing?”

“No, but,” She took a moment to think, making eye contact with him again as his eyes begged hers for answers. “I don’t want to keep you or us a secret. I would love to show and brag about my super cool, super talented, super hot boyfriend to the world, but I want to keep it private.” He smiled lightly and nodded.

“Then let’s do it.” He said, affirmatively. “We’ll take it at your pace. Whenever you’re ready, I’m ready.”

He had been on tour with her for a full week. And it was becoming unbearable how many things were circulating around.

It started at the first show he came to- a solid handful of people had noticed him and put a name to the face, despite his attempt to remain to himself. A small firestorm erupted online over the alleged rumors. The headlines abusing taboos and cliches of the “pop princess and rockstar” trope that made people go crazy.

Then he actually began coming on tour. She wasn’t sure she had been happier on any other leg of it, until he was there to watch every show, and take her out when she had breaks to his favorite spots in each city, and then end the night in her queen sized “suite” on the back of her bus if you could even call it that. She had even bought more storage bins for under the bed to make room for his things.

But people didn’t need to see all the stolen and sudden kissed, or hysterical fits of laughter, or constant touching that were soft reminders of the other. They didn’t need to know about all the photos they had taken of each other, or the memories made, or the lyrics and words that began filling her songbook as she wrote almost exclusively now about him. At least yet.

But on day nine of them being on her tour together, she couldn’t take the speculation anymore. She couldn’t ignore all the photos taken of him at her shows, or the videos that replayed her not-so-obvious smiles and slow hip movements while making direct eye contact with him. In all fairness, she wasn’t trying to hide it.

People could see moments and snippets of their love. But she wouldn’t let them see the whole thing.

“What d’you think?” She asked, the back of her head leaning against his shoulder as they both looked at her phone. It was a simple story draft for her Instagram of the two of them just a few nights ago walking into a gas station. Not the most romantic thing, but her makeup artist had managed to catch it at one of their stops late at night.

The lighting was perfect and almost vintage aesthetic, offering a slight blur to the photo. It was the two of them holding hands as they walked in, both with hoodies and sweatpants on. Only half her face was shown, brightly smiling up at him, and only the back of his head was shown as a mop of slightly messy slightly put-together black hair.

“I love it.” He said with a small smile, giving her a kiss on the top of the head. In the bottom corner she had just put a small black heart, meant to be a small clue.

“Okay,” She smiled. “I think I’m gonna post it.” She said, looking up at him. “You okay with this?”

“Of course.” He genuinely smiled back. “I don’t mind at all.”

Before she could second guess she hit the post button, immediately turning off her phone and throwing it to the edge of the bed.

“It’s done.” She said with big eyes and a giddy tone. “Like, we’ve confirmed.”

“Mhm,” He nodded with a small chuckle, “We have confirmed.” He leaned down to give her a soft kiss, not even a few seconds later his phone buzzed.

He reached over to grab it, smiling at the screen, and showing her.

I was wondering when you guys were gonna post something. Mikey had sent. It’s been fucking long enough.

She should’ve stopped staring after a few seconds, but she couldn’t help it. She rarely felt this confident in herself, but just as quickly as the adrenaline boost of self love hit her, the sobering of imperfections came knocking too.

Dressed in a long green strapless dress that was built to just fit her, she looked and felt like a Barbie. Her makeup team had really done quite an impressive and good number on her face, exemplifying all her good features perfectly, and covering up or minimizing the ones she didn’t like so much. Her hair hung in a low, sleek pony tail against her back, her nails for once long with extensions that would be removed for sure in the next two to three days.

“You’re absolutely perfect, ya know that?” She heard him, turning around to find her boyfriend with a big smile as one of his hands placed itself lightly on the small of her back. She softly smiled up at him, and he swore his heart skipped a beat and nearly sent him into cardiac arrest the way her big eyes stared right into his.

“Not necessarily, but thank you.” She responded in a small voice. She always got nervous before events- he learned that quickly after having to be on text and call standby as she repeated her own self-doubts while spiraling about things going wrong. No one would have ever known- her presence on carpets, stages, and everything in between was flawless.

And now here they stood for the first time together doing this. Him in a traditional and well-fit suit, her in the dress that would put anyone else wearing the color green to shame. He gave her one good look up and down (what was realistically the dozenth already), relishing in the fact that he was merely an accessory to her- and was blessed to be one at that.

There were already rumors circulating everywhere about the potential for them to show up together tonight. It was the ideal place to hard launch, and after dating for just over six months it finally felt like a good time to let the world see them together in all their glory. She was feeling more confident in him, and he was honestly just along for the ride- a very happy passenger too.

“How do we act?” She asked next, his hand still sat on her back as she leaned more into him so their bodies were no more than two inches apart.

“Like how we normally act.” He replied confidently. “I’m not sure anyone will be genuinely surprised- people have been expecting this.”

“When people set expectations about things they don’t know, it typically doesn’t work out the way they want.” She replied quickly.

He knew better than to ruin her hair or makeup, but at this moment he couldn’t see her for that, so he leaned in without hesitation and gave her a soft kiss as an attempt to calm her nerves.

“We’re not here to appease to anyone’s wants or expectations of us.” He explained in a tone just above a whisper, as if they weren’t the only two people in the room. “We’re here to be with each other- not to explain us.”

It was a relative blur, and she thanked the blinding lights of paparazzi that overtook her vision and senses as soon as they took a single step onto the carpet together. She had never heard the two of their names meshed together so many times in such a short period of time. It felt weird to hear them coming out together from other people’s mouths- but it also felt reaffirming.

His hand had initially snuck around her back, resting itself on the other side of her waist and pulling her close to him. The slight warmth from his body made her feel okay, an emotion she typically had to forcefully place at bay here but was tamed solely by him.

They gradually moved their way down at the instruction of the event staff, and narrowly at the last stop he leaned in to whisper to her, hiding his lips behind the back of her head to not let anyone get a chance to overhear what he was going to say.

“I think I have a new appreciation for my name when it’s next to yours.” He said with a small smile, pulling away and looking down at her.

She couldn’t help herself but to break out into a bigger smile, one that wasn’t posed for the cameras but more authentic. She usually hated her full smile, the cheekiness and roundness of her face making the pictures look unbearable to her, but in that moment it didn’t matter. She playfully nudged him a bit as he resumed his position with his arm around her waist, but this time she placed her hand on his chest, angling herself towards him.

He authentically smiled, not expecting it, and had to resist the urge running deep within him to kiss her. But no one here deserved to see that part of them- no one here deserved to know her like he did.

“New album stuff?” He asked, walking over to the living room with a “new” cup of coffee in his hands (this was his third refill in the last two hours). She nodded from where she sat on the floor, back against the bottom of the vintage arm chair she fell in love with and insisted on having to decorate their new place. Their place.

Gerard had always respected her boundaries with her music. She was being incredibly secretive about her upcoming project- despite it essentially being finished from what he had gathered- but he also knew incredibly well how labels worked. And despite both of them being in the industry, her upcoming album was expected to be gigantic. Both in the reception of it and in the work itself.

“They just began pressing all the vinyls.” She smiled up at him.

“When are you gonna see it?” He asked back, sitting down on the couch and leaning over the coffee table to grab his sketch book and pencils again.

“Hopefully within two weeks.” She shrugged. “That’s if everything goes right. Not that I think it won’t- there’s just… a lot.” He looked up for his eyes to meet her, giving her a sympathetic look and nod.

“Regardless of how it goes, you have worked your ass off for this.” He explained. “Critics will always say shit because they’re jaded and subjective. Most of them haven’t even made music. And your fans are gonna love anything you put out.” She softly smiled back.

“Thanks.” She said. “I can’t wait for you to hear it.”

“Don’t you have the entire record on your computer?” He asked, eyeing the laptop that sat in her lap. She rolled her eyes.

“It’s not that simple.” She replied, closing it and getting up. “Besides, I want it to be a surprise.” She finished, walking over to him and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“So are you flattered or what?” Their manager approached where he sat on the bus. He was so lost in the trance of finding the necklace that she had been dying to get for ages online as a surprise album release gift that he didn’t hear a thing.

“Hm?” He asked looking up at him.

“You’re the muse for the number one song on Billboard right now.” His manager replied with a small smile, arms crossed over each other.

“Right.” He awkwardly responded.

He was, indeed, the quite obvious muse for her first single, which happened to somehow skyrocket on the charts as soon as it released and within a few days was impossible not to hear. Whether it be radio, playlists, grocery stores, social media- the damn song was everywhere.

By no means was he upset, he just wasn’t expecting it. He was actively figuring out how to deal with the amount of empty and comical threats he got from fan accounts saying they were fully prepared to fight him if it meant even a shot at being with her. Also, while he had approved of the lyrics she had showed him (well, specifically the incredibly, borderline obvious, suggestive ones) it still made him feel a blush grow on his face when he heard them over and over again.

And the fucking cherry on top was the music video. At this point, he had seen her in many different ways, doing many different things (if you catch the drift) but as soon as he watched it he felt like he was falling for her all over again, ten-fold this time. It also made him begin to seriously question why the fuck you were with him, and simultaneously wonder if all the manifesting bull shit the merch girl was telling them about was something he should look into given that he needed some form of magic to get someone so out of his league.

“Good luck when the album drops, man.” His manager smiled, “Can’t wait to see all the teenage girls that want to band together and fight you.”

Gerard didn’t drink anymore and hadn’t for a while. But he did stare with a smile as she took a shot of tequila and her face immediately grew into a sour and twisted expression.

“Fuck that was worse than I remember.” She said through a small cough, grabbing the water by her and downing a chunk of it.

The low-key album release party was being held at their place. It was primarily close friends, the one producer she worked with on the record and her engineer, then the band as well as some of Gerard’s friends. Despite it being small, the place was buzzing under the dimmed lighting as there was consistently multiple conversations happening in the background, solid laughter mixed in too, and her album playing track by track in order softly in the background.

She sat on the floor, back against the couch, in a simple shirt and jeans, him right behind and next to her sat on the couch. She wasn’t drunk, but was definitely tipsy as she laid her head on his jean clad knee. He looked down at her with a smile, running a hand through her loose hair.

“I love you so much.” She smiled up at him. “Thank you for being such an incredible muse.”

He had been complimented plenty of times by critics, reporters, fans- but nothing even came remotely close to that comment.

“Baby, this is all you.” He insisted with a smile back. “We wouldn’t be here if you weren’t so damn incredible at everything you do.”

She sighed happily, closing her eyes for a moment.

“I’m so fucking glad you bumped into me.” She said. “I was so pissed at first and so tired and hot and sweaty- I thank the universe everyday for making that happen.”

“I do too, sweetheart.” He said, letting his smile melt into a sincere and content one. It only felt right. “I do too.”

#my chemical romance #gerard way #my chem #my chemical gee #my chemical gerard #gerard way x reader #gerard way fanfiction #mcr gerard #my chemical romance x reader #mcr x reader #mcr fanfiction #mcr #gee way #gerard way x you #gerard way x y/n

52 notes · View notes

rougepancake · 4 months ago

Note

Here is my revised request lol

Where it's a one-sided love/crush with yushiro, mitsuri, Obana, and Lady Tamayo, how the reader wishes them all the best but also just wants them. If there is even a sliver of chance for them to return their one-side love. If you feel like it, maybe they might have someone who is helping them move on from the one side love?

Get ready for this to hurt.

And if you’re in love, then you are the lucky one.

FT. Yushiro, Kanroji Mitsuri, Iguro Obanai, and Lady Tamayo. Gender Neutral reader.

WARNINGS: Angsty as hell. I drew the title from the song Youth by Daughter. Some reciprocation in Obanai’s. I also hope I did Yushiro justice. I’ve never written for him before. Um pretty emotional overall. Don’t forget to put on your sad music while reading this. These are going to be pretty long. Some were very obviously cut short due to how long they were getting, for that, I apologize. Please bear with me 😭

YUSHIRO

Each day you awoke longing for a purpose, and every time the day failed you. It wasn’t until you caught wind of the Demon Slayer Corps that things finally started to look up. It seemed perfect. You’d undergo training and then participate in a simple survival event. Of course, it wasn’t as easy as it sounded. The training you underwent was harsh, and the final selection was even worse. Each time the sun set you feared for your life until you remembered that this was the challenge that you had been waiting for. You claimed it to be your calling, despite not being very good at it.

When it was all said and done, you picked the metal for your weapon and went about your business. There had only been one other person to make it out of the selection alive. You remember being surprised. How could so many people have trained so hard only to lose their lives? One would have thought that they would have been properly prepared before entering the challenge. Though, you were hardly prepared yourself. It was nothing but sheer luck that kept you alive, and you were more than grateful.

It wasn’t long before your crow had begun to send you all over to complete missions. Each demon you encountered seemed to be much stronger than the last, a thought that frightened you. With each one you killed, you felt yourself growing more powerful. Your breathing techniques were perfect, it was just your lack of physical strength that caused you to struggle. But you weren’t too worried about it. If you had been able to take down the ones before, then there was nothing stopping you from taking down the one now, right?

Right?

That’s what you thought when you chased the lower rank six of the Twelve Kizuki into a corner. You were sure that it had nowhere else to go, which would ensure that you’d be able to kill it and move on to the next place. You were sure that if your stance was just right, then you’d be able to land the perfect blow and come out victorious. But you were wrong.

The demon wasted no time freeing itself of your presence before appearing behind you suddenly. Your heart had dropped, leaving you with nothing to do but hope that a fellow demon slayer would sense your distress and come to your aid. Unfortunately, that was not the case.

The foul beast beat you within an inch of your life, leaving you to drown in your own blood. You cried as you lay there, unable to move. Your life had been short, but you were willing to accept it as it was and move on to the next one. Everything faded to black slowly, and you heard the sound of oxides speaking over you as you lost consciousness. You recalled smiling at the sound. They sounded like angels.

Approximately three days later, you awoke. You didn’t recognize the room you were in, which put you in edge. Bandages covered numerous wounds scattered across your body, an observation that led to you noticing your uniform top was missing. Thankfully you still had the bottoms on, or else you would’ve felt incredibly uncomfortable. You groaned in pain as you sat up. Your head was spinning.

“We thought you wouldn’t make it.” A gentle, feminine voice spoke. You turned to look at the speaker, your eyes landing on the most beautiful woman you had ever seen. Her skin was pale and glossy, her eyes an alluring shade of purple. She was elegant. She was an angel. Behind her stood a slightly shorter man. While he too was beautiful, you noticed that he looked far from pleased at your survival. The woman saw you avert your gaze and followed it, giving the man a stern look before turning back to you. “You may call me Tamayo,” she paused, “and he is Yushiro. Would you mind telling us about yourself, demon slayer?”

“How do you know I’m a…” you trailed off and sighed. Of course. They must be demon slayers themselves if they recognized your uniform. “I don’t really have anything notable to say about myself. I joined the Demon Slayer Corps in hopes of being able to do something with my life. Before that it’s all mundane,” you frowned and swung your legs over the side of the bed. You winced as your feet hit the floor. If only you had died. You would’ve spared these people the trouble of looking after you. You met Tamayo’s gaze. “Are you affiliated with the Corps?”

She hesitated, stuttering slightly before simply smiling at you. “Why don’t you join us out here for some tea,” she suggested. Her response confused you, but you nodded nonetheless. She and Yushiro left, giving you some time to explore the room you were in. Your uniform top was folded neatly atop a nearby chair. You reached out and grabbed it. The thing must’ve been torn to shreds by that demon, seeing as there were many different colored patches decorating it. You sighed and slipped it on over your head.

Your body ached with each move you made, yet you persisted. Slowly, you made it out of the room and into the hallway. You followed the sounds of voices to an open room that appeared to be the main room. Tamayo had her hands folded neatly in her lap as she spoke to Yushiro, who had his legs crossed and his hands resting on his knees. He gave you a disgusted look before continuing his chat with Tamayo.

Hesitantly, you sat down with them, resting your legs neatly to the side. Tamayo turned to look at you before taking a deep breath. “You asked us if we were affiliated with the Corps in any way. To tell you the truth, we are. We know of them and they know of us.” Yushiro scoffed. “But we ourselves are not demon slayers. We are demons that exist freely of Muzan Kibutsuji’s control.” Your eyes widened. You had no clue that such a thing was possible. “We mean you no harm, truly. Our goals align with those of the Demon Slayer Corps.”

She gave you a second to process the information. You had so many questions, but you feared being rude. Sensing this, she gestured for you to go on. “How did you break free of his curse?” You were immediately answered by an annoyed sigh from Yushiro.

“Such a foolish question! Do not ask Lady Tamayo such things!” He glared at you.

“Yushiro. It is only right for them to ask questions. Don’t shun them,” she paused, mulling over her next words. “I spent many years trying to free myself of Muzan’s control. But it wasn’t until I was spared by a very kind man that I was freed. Since then, I have dedicated my life to the study of both demon and human biology,” she hung her head slightly, averting her gaze. You could tell by her tone that she was thankful to have been spared. It nearly brought tears to your eyes.

“What about Yushiro? Was he not a servant of Muzan too?” You asked slowly, tilting your head. Yushiro crossed his arms and looked away, biting his tongue to avoid making Tamayo upset.

“Ah… Yushiro. He had a chronic illness that kept him bedridden for years. His condition would worsen each day I was taking care of him. He was practically dying before my eyes. I gave him the choice to go on living that way, or to be cured and live longer as a demon. There weren’t any promises I could make him about the treatment’s effectiveness, but I couldn’t bear to watch him suffer.” You listened in awe. She was so sweet, and you thought that it was the most amazing thing.

“So you…” were a human. You looked at Yushiro. These two beings before you had rejected their existences as demons and chose to aid humans instead. It really was quite wonderful. “You two… are amazing.” Tamayo’s eyes widened at your words. She seems taken aback by your honesty. Yushiro seemed equally as stunned, his eyes briefly looking over at you. After all, it was rare that they weren’t treated like the monsters that they were.

“Why… thank you.” Tamayo smiled softly, a light hearted expression gracing her features.

Over time you began to heal. The everlasting soreness in your body had finally begun to fade, which allowed you to help out around the house. Tamayo had gone out and bought you a casual yukata so you wouldn’t constantly be in your uniform. You wore it whenever it was clean to show her how much you appreciated it. Oh she was so sweet to you. Yushiro too. Since the time you had first joined them, he had really warmed up to your being there.

The two of you would often go out together and pick herbs for Tamayo. He knew all of the right places to look, and how to tell if what he was looking for was ripe or not. You admired his knowledge on the topic, often remarking on his experience when you were out. Every now and then he’d show you what you should look for, but you were mainly just there to provide some form of protection if the need arose. Not that you didn’t think he was capable of protecting himself— it’s just that Tamayo stated that it would be better if you went out and kept watch for him.

This time was just like the last, but only in the sense that you were on the lookout for other demons while he was working. It seemed that recently your feelings toward him had changed. He had grown close enough to you to tell you about his feelings for Tamayo, and you had grown close enough to him to realize that you had fallen for him. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. It just made things a little awkward for you.

“Here. Hold this,” he huffed as he shoved an armful of the plants into your arms. “Lady Tamayo said that she needed a lot this time,” he mumbled to himself. You nodded with a sigh. He admired her so much, and she only saw him as a friend. It was comical when you didn’t think about the pain that it caused him. In many ways, you and him were similar. But you knew he didn’t want to compare himself to a mortal being such as yourself.

“What else did she say she needed?” You asked, peering over the heap of herbs in your arms to look at him. He had frozen in place, his eyes narrowed. “What is it?” You whispered, now on edge. Instinctively, you reached out for your sword, dropping the herbs in the process.

In the blink of an eye, Yushiro pushed you to the side and blocked an attack from the demon that he had assumed was following you through the forest. He groaned as he fought it off, wincing at the relentless assault. You quickly rose to your feet, katana in hand, and leaped at the monster. You managed to cut its head off with one swift movement.

“Are you alright?” He asked, quickly turning to look at you. His hands grasped your cheeks, moving your face around to see if you were hurt in any way. The action caused your face to flush. Yushiro noticed that your face had gotten slightly warmer, taking his hands away and giving you a confused look before turning and picking up the herbs.

“Can I… tell you something?” You asked slowly, attempting to aid him. He moved away from you and muttered a sharp ‘no’.

The walk home was spent in awkward silence. Maybe he’d realized how you felt about him. Maybe not. You weren’t sure, and it bothered you horribly. He kept his distance from you, his head turned so he wouldn’t have an opportunity to glance at you. It broke your heart. In such a short amount of time, he had begun to mean everything to you, and yet, you were nothing. He’d push you to the side and focus on Tamayo, you were sure.

And you were right. In the days following that little incident, he avoided you. He went out by himself everywhere and hardly spoke to you when he passed by. It pained you more than you had thought, seeing as Tamayo could sense your hurt. She sighed as she stood outside of your room. Emotions to her were like a wavelength that she could visualize. What you were feeling was strong enough to suffocate her. It only made her worry about you.

“Can I come in?” She asked slowly, knocking gently on the door. You mumbled a response and she walked in. “Is everything between you and Yushiro alright?” She sat down next to you on your bed, her concerned eyes meeting yours.

“Yeah. Everything’s fine. We just ran into a demon the other day, so it’s got him shaken,” you frowned, turning your head away from her. You could feel your lip quiver. Just thinking about it made your heart ache. After a few more seconds of sitting there, you sighed. There was a possibility that she could help you through your emotions. You turned back to face her, your tone slightly wistful. “I think I love him, Tamayo. There’s no realistic way for me to tell him or even be with him because he’s not human, but I feel so strongly for him in a way that I’ve never felt about anyone before…” you hung your head.

“I see…” she trailed off. There wasn’t really any form of advice she could offer you and she felt bad. “Don’t fault him for not knowing his emotions well enough to properly respond. He may not fully come around, but he will want to start being around you again,” she placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Just give it time.” You nodded, biting the inside of your cheek as you thought.

Just give it time.

But you didn’t have the time he did. You were doomed to die much sooner than he could ever dream of.

Tamayo left you alone with your thoughts. Of course you wanted to listen to her, but you knew it would be best if you didn’t. There was no sense in waiting when he had his heart set on Tamayo. And that hurt you more than anything. You laid back onto your bed, frowning.

Just give it time.

MITSURI

For years you had been a hashira alongside Mitsuri. Rengoku had trained you both when you joined the corps, but even then you had known her prior to serving in the corps. The whole reason you became a demon slayer was because she wanted to. She just didn’t want to go through it alone, which was fair. While Rengoku had taught you his breathing technique, neither you nor Mitsuri had resonated strongly with it. You made the choice to invent your own technique called ‘ice breathing,’ and she followed suit. Together, you made your way up the ranks and became hashiras.

It seemed that you did everything together.

If she were assigned a mission, she’d drag you along with her. If she wanted to go out to town, then she’d ask you if you wanted to go. Even your estates were in the same village. You really just couldn’t escape her.

It didn’t bother you much though. She was your friend, after all.

But you couldn’t help but want more. You had wanted more with her for such a long time you felt you were beginning to lose your mind.

There had been many times where you had gotten her alone to confess, but each time was interrupted by her crow calling her out to take care of something. Each of the hashira could see that you had fallen for Mitsuri, with the exception of Obanai. He had steered clear of everyone as soon as he gained the title of hashira. You on the other hand, had not. Tengen had been a good friend of yours outside of Mitsuri.

Actually, he had been the one talking you through the whole process. He claimed that since he had three wives, he was the right guy to ask. Because of this, you found yourself in many odd situations in the name of love. Unfortunately, Mitsuri just didn’t notice. She had always been told that she was undesirable because of her appearance, and yet, she was the most beautiful woman you’d ever seen.

You had a plan this time. A plan that was slightly guaranteed to work. Even if it didn’t work in your favor, it’d still work. You’d get her alone under the stars and propose. Yes, propose. Marriage amongst hashira wasn’t really accepted, due to the circumstances of the title, but no one had to know. As long as you had her you’d be happy.

“So what’re you going to do when you get her alone?” Tengen asked, attempting to lift up your spirits. He’d promised to keep the whole thing a secret, which you’d greatly appreciated. You couldn’t have been more thankful for his help. Especially now that you were so in need of it.

“I’m going to take her hands, look into her eyes and tell her how I feel!” You nodded, your expression serious. All of this seemed rather silly, but his enthusiasm was making you feel better.

“That’s right! And what’s she going to do?” He wrapped a large, beefy arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to him with a grin. You chuckled and pushed him away.

“Yes!” You paused, looking away in embarrassment. “This feels stupid,” you sighed, shaking your head. “Why are we doing this again?”

“We’re doing this so you won’t back out at the last minute,” he raised a brow as he looked at you. His hands landed on his hips. Why was this grown man full of such sassiness? You rolled your eyes.

“I’m not going to back out!” You argued, but to no avail. Tengen mocked you with his hand, a smirk growing on his lips.

“I mean, if it doesn’t work out you can always marry me,” the taller man spit out nonchalantly. His words caused you to choke on air. You gave him a look, feigning disgust as you stared at him.

“Yeah no, I’ll pass,” you shuddered at the thought.

“I’m just saying.”

You sighed once more, looking out at the scenery. The sun was beginning to set, which meant that you would soon be alone with Mitsuri. The thought both scared and excited you. After all, you’d finally get the chance to tell her a secret that you’ve kept for so long. Even if she didn’t feel the same, at least you’d get the satisfaction that came with finally having your question answered.

The stars shined brightly overhead, perfectly visible from the tree you had chosen to sit under. Mitsuri would be arriving any moment now. Any moment. Your heart rate only increased as the seconds passed. Tonight was different from all of your other attempts, but only in the sense that you were asking to be bound to her forever. Well, either way you’d be with her, but you wanted to be with her.

“There you are!” Your friend cheerily called out, grinning as she sat next to you. “I’m so sorry I was late! Iguro gifted me these pretty green socks and treated me to some sweets afterward! They were the most delicious sweets I’d ever had!” She giggled gleefully at the thought. “Oh if only you had been there! Did you know that Iguro is actually a sweetie? Oh he’s such a sweetie! And he’s cute, too! I had to refrain from blushing the whole time, it was so embarrassing!” She continued to giggle, trailing off when she remembered that it was you that had asked her to join you. Her face flushed and she looked up at the sky. “So how come you wanted to hang out all the way out here?”

You swallowed, hanging your head in shame. Of course. Obanai. Your heart ached as you sat next to her. She had said he was cute, but that didn’t mean anything, did it? She said that about everyone she liked. Your hands clutched your slayer uniform. This was foolish of you. There was no way you had thought that you stood a chance at getting with Mitsuri. It was almost laughable. You had no idea how Tengen entertained the idea for so long.

“Hello…?” She leaned forward and waved her hand in front of your face. The motion pulled you from your thoughts, causing you to jump slightly. “Ah! There’s my friend! I was starting to think I’d lost you!” She smiled widely and giggled once again.

“My apologies,” you forced a nervous chuckle, your face flushing a light shade of pink. Thankfully she didn’t notice. “I didn’t mean to zone out on you.” Your heart pounded. You needed to leave as soon as possible. You couldn’t bear to be around her in this moment. It was hurting you. “I actually had something I wanted to talk to you about—“

“Caw! Head west to the nearest town! Caw! Get moving! Get moving!” Mitsuri’s crow called out. Its raspy voice ruined the moment entirely, making you frown. Your friend rose to her feet quickly, giving you a sympathetic look.

“Would you like to join me?” She asked sweetly, but you declined. “Alright! I’m going to go find Iguro and see if he wants to go! I’ll see you later, friend!” You waved, giving her a soft smile as she ran off. As soon as she was no longer in your line of sight, you ran to find Tengen. He’d promised you that he’d stay in the area for your sake, a promise that you really hadn’t expected to see through.

You ran, your breathing heavy and your heart heavier. You cursed yourself mentally for being so stupid. Actually, you were mid swear when Tengen stumbled upon you.

“Woah there! I’m guessing that things didn’t go well?” You shot him a glare before simply breaking down. He took a step back, unsure of how to handle the situation. Of course he’s comforted people before, but that didn’t mean that things like this didn’t catch him off guard. After a few seconds of watching you cry in silence, he stepped forward and hugged you. In all actuality, he had thought that you had this in the bag. He really saw no reason as to why you wouldn’t.

You never really explained things to him until the next day, which even then you were reluctant to do. Of course he had told you that you should go out for it again, but you disagreed. Obanai made her giddy in a way that you felt you couldn’t, so you saw no point in competing.

Things would be easier if you just stayed her friend.

OBANAI

Days turned into weeks that turned into months. Soon those months would turn into years. You had been staying at the home of Shinobu Kocho for ages now due to an injury you had received while you were away on a mission. The demon had nearly taken off your arm, breaking several of your bones in the process. Thankfully, you were able to kill if before it could kill you, but it resulted in you calling for aid.

Only a handful of your fellow demon slayers had set aside time to visit you, including your close friend and fellow hashira Gyomei. Each time he visited you he wound up sobbing, praising you for your resilience and bravery. He cared a lot for you, and your recent incident had caused him to worry about you more than usual. He had even set aside missions to help Shinobu take care of you. He was a true friend.

Aside from him, only one other hashira had come to visit you. Iguro Obanai.

Obanai was someone that you didn’t really know all too well, despite both reaching the rank of hashira at the same time. You had always been friendly with him, of course, but it never really went farther than that. You thought of him as alluring and slightly mysterious. His silence intrigued you, as did his mask and his snake. He was an enigma in your eyes.

With your curiosity arose some issues. The deeper you dove into his history, the more you found yourself longing to get to know him. You couldn’t even think about him normally without getting slightly flustered, which upset you. After all, your feelings towards him were rooted in your curiosity, nothing more.

“How are you doing today, my friend?” Gyomei’s voice met your ears. He ducked as he entered the room, walking over and sitting on the chair next to your bed.

“Not too bad, actually,” you grinned, “I was able to walk around the corridor earlier! You should’ve been there! I didn’t even need help standing!” You chuckled softly and Gyomei smiled softly. Tears began to slide down his cheeks as he faced you.

“You are so strong! I’m so happy for you!” He clasped his hands together, tilting his head back dramatically. You rolled your eyes, smiling. “I hope that you continue to do well!” Your smile only grew at his enthusiasm. He was sweet, that was for sure.

“Gyomei, I’ve got a question for you,” you asked slowly, waiting for him to calm down some.

“What is it, dear friend?”

You shifted in your bed, suddenly feeling nervous. “What do you know about Obanai? I know it’s odd, but I can’t help but be curious. I don’t really know too much about him. Though, now that I think about it, you probably don’t either. He doesn’t talk much,” you sigh, chuckling softly. He was confusing, that much was true.

“I know only what I’ve been told,” your friend paused, “which is very little. I’m apologize, friend,” he rose to his feet, his hands still clasped together. “I will make time to visit you again next week. I cannot wait to see how much better you are doing then!” He smiled once more before leaving.

Your time alone was brief. The door closed, only to open again, revealing the man that you had just asked about. All you could do was offer him a smile. He walked forward some and sat, looking at you for a few seconds before audibly taking a deep breath.

“How are you?” He asked bluntly. The snake around his neck eyed you, its tongue reaching in your direction.

“I’m just as good as I was yesterday,” you tease but he doesn’t react. Talking to him is like talking to a rock. “They had me walking down the hallway earlier, which means that I should be doing more by the end of the week, though, it just depends on what Shinobu has to say about my condition.” You smiled. He was really good at getting you to ramble so he could avoid conversation. You found it funny, in a way. He’d rather listen to you speak than have to talk.

“Here, I brought you this,” he reached forward, revealing a brand new haori. You gasped at the sight. It looked just like the one you had lost when you got injured. Grinning, you took it from his hands and held it in the air to get a better look. Its resemblance to your old one was impressive. You hugged it and giggled.

“How did you get this?” You look up at him. His face looks slightly flushed, but you think nothing of it.

“I heard that you didn’t have your old one anymore. I know a seamstress in the town over, so I commissioned her to make you a new one.” He wasn’t about to tell you that he had memorized the patterns from observing you so often. No, that sounded weird. He was hoping that you wouldn’t question him any further.

“Thank you, Obanai. I really appreciate your gift.” You looked down at the haori, playing with the fabric between your fingers. Hopefully you’d be able to wear it soon.

After that, Obanai began to miss days. Once he had come in with Mitsuri, which hurt you to see. They looked happy together, so you couldn’t really be too upset, but it did bother you some. Each time he stopped by, he seemed to be less talkative than before, which you didn’t know could happen. With each day he missed, you seemed to be getting better. Within a week, you were able to go out on small missions in the nearest town. A few days after that, you were finally back to your regular routine.

Shinobu had discharged you from her infirmary, which meant that you finally got to return to your own estate. With everything going on, you had yet to stop and check in with Gyomei. You felt bad about it, but you couldn’t just skip out on these missions. There had been so much in your area that you hadn’t been able to take care of, and you needed to get to work on it.

“Caw! Head east, head east! Caw!” Your crow’s cries echoed into the air. Its shrill voice never failed to make you cringe. “Dangerous! Backup will be there! Caw!” You sighed and continued on. Hopefully it would be Gyomei.

You reached the area, looking out at the dark forest that threatened you. You couldn’t help but wonder what had hidden itself in there that was considered dangerous enough for you, a hashira, to need backup.

The sound of footsteps caused you to draw your blade, pointing its edge at the culprit. Obanai didn’t even jump, looking at you with his hetrochromatic eyes. He seemed surprised to see you already out in the field, wearing the haori he got you, no less. His face flushed slightly and he pushed past you, hoping you didn’t notice.

“Sorry about that. I’m a little on edge,” you admitted, sheathing your blade and catching up to him. “I didn’t know you were in the area.”

“Pure coincidence.”

“Right…” you eyed him before nodding. “So how’s everything back at the headquarters? I know you live relatively close to it. How are the others?”

“They’re all fine.”

“Gyomei too?”

“Gyomei too.” His tone got slightly more bitter at the mention of Gyomei, something that nearly went over your head. You froze, giving him a confused look.

“Do you not like Gyomei?” You tilted your head, your brows furrowing.

“I find him to be very respectable.” He paused. “… how do you feel about Mitsuri?” His question only confused you more.

“She’s a great slayer, and really sweet. I like her,” you caught up to him once again. “Why…?”

“Are you and Gyomei engaged?” He blurted out, turning to look at you. You were caught so off guard by his gaze that you took a step back.

“Of course not! He and I are just close friends! I thought everyone knew that.” Well clearly not everyone knew that. You cleared your throat, looking out around you for any signs of danger. Weird. You weren’t sensing anything. “What’s all of this about?”

“Nothing, I—“ he cut himself off, continuing on with his walk. He stopped again and turned back to face you. “Mitsuri and I aren’t engaged either.”

He turned back around, not wasting any time heading deeper into the forest. Your body was frozen in confusion. That whole interaction was weird. You shook it off and ran after him.

You couldn’t help but feel better now that you knew about him and Mitsuri, though. Yes it was weird, but it had bothered you since he had stopped coming around. Truth be told, you had fallen for him not long after he had begun his daily visits. The fact that he cared enough to give you his attention daily made you feel like you were special, and you liked that. Who wouldn’t?

Once he came back into sight, you slowed down, making sure he was aware that it was you instead of a demon. You rested your hand on the hilt of your katana, following him in silence. That’s how the rest of the mission was spent, in silence. The two of you never really found the supposed dangerous demon, but you didn’t mind. At least now you could rest easy knowing that you stood a slight chance with your fellow hashira.

LADY TAMAYO

For as long as you could remember, you had been under the care of Lady Tamayo and her assistant Yushiro. Your life prior to joining them was a memory that eluded you. No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t remember how you had met them. They had tried to explain it all to you before, but it never made sense. Demons? Demon slayers? It all sounded like a fairy tale.

Tamayo had entrusted you with taking care of the garden out behind the house, a duty you had accepted happily. You enjoyed watering the various herbs. Their lives were just as valuable as yours, and you made sure to treat them with as much tenderness as you could.

Every now and then Tamayo would come and help you, but that was rare. She usually spent her time inside, studying away at human biology. It interested you some, but you knew better than to interrupt her.

When Tamayo wasn’t available, you’d spend your time with Yushiro. He never really got a say in the matter, but thankfully he had learned to stop protesting a while ago. The two of you were walking down the streets of the town the house was hidden in. Despite it being late, there were many vendors that were still open. Their resilience intrigued you. You reached out and tugged on Yushiro’s sleeve, smiling softly.

“Do you think that Lady Tamayo would like this?” You asked, holding up an intricate painting of a woman looking at the moon. Yushiro looked at it, his eyes widening slightly. He was impressed by the strokes on the canvas. Tamayo was fond of art, so of course she would like it, but Yushiro didn’t want her to favor you more than she did him. He crossed his arms.

“Get it. But make sure to tell her that I helped you pick it out,” he said stubbornly before turning to walk once more.

Eagerly, you bought the painting, carrying it under your arm as you followed Yushiro. He stopped suddenly, holding his head in his hand. You recognized this behavior, grabbing his shoulder and leading him off to the side and sitting him down. He looked pale than usual, and you sighed.

“When was the last time you ate?” You asked, setting the painting to the side gently. The man only grunted in response, pouting as he avoided your concerned gaze.

“… last week…” he mumbled.

“Last week?! You know you’re not supposed to go that long without food!” You panicked and looked around. Nobody could see you. With a huff, you scooted towards him. “Listen, you can feed off of me just this once. It’s too risky to have you roaming the streets while starved,” you sighed, “you must’ve felt like you were going insane! Oh come here…” you pulled down the shoulder of your kimono, revealing more skin than you would’ve liked. Yushiro eyed you. The thought of eating even a bit of your flesh scared him. What if Tamayo found out? What would she think of him?

“Hurry up!�� You whispered through your teeth, giving him a glare. He was taking way too long to make up his mind. Unfortunately, you didn’t have time. He sighed and leaned forward, taking a bite out of your skin.

About five minutes later, the two of you returned to the town. He seemed to be in a better mood now, which was good. You just couldn’t believe that he was walking around while hungry like that. Things would’ve been bad if he had snapped.

“Hey Yushiro?”

“What?”

“Do you think Lady Tamayo likes anyone?” You asked as you readjusted the painting. It was random, but you couldn’t help but be curious. His cheeks flushed a rosy pink and he sighed.

“I don’t think so. She’s too focused on doing her duties to set aside time for things like romance,” he frowned slightly as he spoke.

“Hey Yushiro?”

“What?”

“I think I like Lady Tamayo.” Your words made him choke on nothing. He hadn’t expected that in the slightest.

“You and me both…” he mumbled, leading you back to the house.

Tamayo loved the painting, choosing to hang it at the end of the hallway. Every time she saw you she made sure to thank you for the thoughtful present. Her compliments made you giddy, usually causing your face to flush a little.

You felt that your feelings for her only got stronger with each day that passed. Hell, you couldn’t even think of her without getting butterflies in your stomach. It was beginning to get in the way of your work. On times she’d come out to the garden to help you, you wouldn’t be able to speak. You were sure that if you said something, you’d butcher it so badly that you’d have to ask Yushiro to end your misery.

You sighed as you pulled another weed from the ground near the garden. The herbs were looking great, despite it being their off season. The luscious green plants surrounded you. They were nearly big enough to hide you completely, and you took great pride in that fact.

“Hey, are you ready to go out? Lady Tamayo said that she needed some time alone for a while.” Yushiro’s voice caused you to perk up. You nodded and gave him a smile.

“Hold on! I need to change real quick!” You stood up and went inside to your room. It didn’t take you long before you were standing in front of Yushiro, asking him what the plan was for tonight.

“Let’s stay in town.”

“Alright.”

There weren’t as many shops open tonight, unfortunately, so you and Yushiro just took to heading towards the park in the middle of the town. It was a small park, but that didn’t stop it from being beautiful. You sighed as you sat down onto the grass. A part of you wished to find another gift for Tamayo, but your options were limited.

You looked up at the moon, taking in its glory in silence before turning back to your friend.

“Does your love for Lady Tamayo ever cause you pain?” You asked.

“Sometimes.”

“Sometimes?”

“Yeah.”

A part of you understood what he meant. Sometimes she was so beautiful that it caused your heart to throb in agony. Maybe it was because you knew that she would never be yours. Either way, your giddy love for her was beginning to torment your weary soul. You didn’t enjoy being around her simply due to the fact that her sweet words wouldn’t fail to cause you some sort of pain.

“Yeah…” you repeated, sighing once more.

134 notes · View notes

artbychromo · 7 months ago

Text

(little comic + 1.7K words, inspired by chatting about timezones + @swbookerr's fics uwu)

To be honest, Ace had partly forgotten about the Den Den Mushi. It sat on its own little table outside the Spade Pirates’ galley, and the thing hadn’t been touched since Shanks gifted it to him a few weeks ago. It also hadn’t rung yet, and Ace wasn’t certain what was appropriate grounds for calling the Red Force, anyway.

Maybe it was only meant for emergencies? That had been Ace’s assumption. Meaning, he was startled when the thing first let out its odd, burbling call around dusk one day. He ducked out of the kitchen—he’d been helping Deuce and Skull prepare that evening’s supper, but now the two of them peered after Ace from the doorway.

Heart in his throat, he lifted the receiver.

Sounds of chaos blared out from the little creature. Ace’s pulse raced even faster. He wasn’t sure what to make of it, until finally, the cacophony resolved itself into songs and shouts—and above that, a slurred, cheerful drawl.

“Angel! Hello, angel? Are you there, gorgeous?”

Ace’s nerves transformed into appalled heat, sensing the start of Deuce’s laughter from behind him.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he managed. “Shanks, what’s going on?”

The other captain let out a meandering whoop. “I just missed you, baby! Wish I could see your smile so bad. How am I supposed to dance, when you’re not here in my arms-s-s-s—arm?”

On his end, Ace wondered if the Den Den actually replicated the waft of alcohol, or if it was just his imagination. At least no one was in danger.

Shanks went on, “The boys here got me thinking about you—”

“More like,” a voice interjected, “he wouldn’t shut up about your ass.”

Ace flushed, hearing Skull’s chuckles join Deuce’s. It only got worse when Shanks replied, “It’s a lovely ass, I’ll have you know.”

“I didn’t mean his literal ass, Captain, though I’m sure it’s wonderful—”

“It is! Abs-o-lute heaven!”

“Shanks!” Ace yelled (cutting off the man’s claim of “To die for!”). Chancing a glance over his shoulder, Ace was chagrined to find Skull with a hand slapped over his mouth, trying to remain composed, while Deuce had fully given up on standing and was now doubled over against the galley wall.

Before he dealt with them, Ace had to address the matter at hand.

“Look, we’re a little busy here,” he said tightly. “Anything else you needed to say? Otherwise, I’m gonna have to talk to you later.”

After a moment without response save for some shuffling, Ace added a cautious, “That alright, old man?”

Finally, Shanks let out a dramatic sigh. “Stars, but I missed your voice.” The background noise from the other side grew muffled, as if he’d at last found a spot away from the hubbub of his crew. He went on, drawn-out and wistful: “I don’t mean to keep you, sweetheart. Just wanted you to know I was thinkin’ about you all day, and I’ll be dreamin’ about you all night.”

Ace cursed himself for flushing further. Turning away from the galley (and the growing sound of cackling), Ace mumbled, “You’re drunk as fuck, Shanks. …Don’t go falling overboard tonight, okay?”

“In vino veritas, little flame,” Shanks said with dignity. Then, more groggily, “Or, in sake veritas?”

Ace put his head in his hands, but couldn’t stop the wobbling, frantic smile pulling at his cheeks.

“Gods. Good luck with your hangover.” Then, in a rushed breath—because this whole situation was bizarre and new, and his heart was racing, but he was also so, strangely happy—Ace said, “Love you.”

Actually, this situation might be too bizarre and new: Shanks was taken off-guard. Ace heard a swift intake of breath, and then in a flood of boozy admiration, he swore, “Oh, baby, I’ll sail to you tonight! The boys’ll listen—I’ll follow the moonlight off the water, we can be together by dawn—what do you say, angel? We could spend all day together, having just the filthiest, crazed-animal se—”

Ace hung up.

—

Ace sagged against the doorway of his quarters. Even though most of his crew had retired for the day, he could feel his insomnia acting up like a jitter in his limbs. He probably wouldn’t land a good night’s sleep no matter what he tried.

The issue wasn’t helped by his swirling thoughts. For the sake of restocking supplies, the Spade Pirates had docked in a town with some heavy anti-pirate sentiment. Somehow, the crew hadn’t been particularly bothered. Ace, on the other hand, was on edge the whole time, tensing up whenever he felt anyone’s eyes lingering on him too long.

There was no way anyone knew the truth about him. Even so, he couldn’t help superimposing faces from the rundown taverns of Goa onto those of the locals. Ace could feel the old, familiar unease simmering in his veins, like everyone had just finished hiding a sneer from him; like a knife was waiting to catch him unaware at any turn.

But he was on his ship, now. Safe. Ace took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair, yet the tension remained. A night like this one was better spent in the open air of the deck. He was just about to make his way out, when the Den Den Mushi reflected a hint of moonlight, catching his eye.

After a moment of hesitation, Ace gathered the little thing in his arms, and took it with him to the bow of the ship. He stared contemplatively at where he’d set it on the rail. Since that first fiasco, he and Shanks had used the device a few times; their calls made it clear that he didn’t need to wait for some emergency. Still��

Watching starlight glint off the Den Den’s metal trim, he wondered what time it might be where Shanks was. The last time they’d talked, Shanks had been about half a day ahead of him. Who could say if they’d kept pace since then, though.

Stealing a glance at the crow’s nest—he was pretty sure Finamore was on shift tonight—Ace’s hand hovered over the receiver. His thoughts roiled. The tranquil rocking of the ship and the peaceful glow of the moon should have soothed him, but for some reason, they just made Ace more agitated.

He finally thought, Fuck it.

Ace waited, feeling suspended in time as the call went out. Then, he heard a click.

“Mm… Hello?”

Ace’s mind stalled. He was thrown off, watching the snail mimic a very sleepy Red-Haired Shanks. It was amusing at times to see the creature capture the other man’s expressions, but a little unsettling for this call; Ace directed his gaze out toward the ocean instead.

“Shanks?” he ventured. “Um. Morning?”

There was a yawn. Then, “G’morning, little flame.” The cadence of Shanks’ voice was even slower than usual, syllables softly melding into each other. “To what do I owe the pleasure, sweetheart?”

Ace’s mouth quirked, impressed at the immediate smooth-talking. He was also, undeniably, taken in by the calming lilt of Shanks’ words. Ace twisted and untwisted a ringlet of the Den Den Mushi’s cord.

“It’s nothin’ important, just… checking in.” Ace was unable to keep himself from adding, “What time is it there? I can call back later.”

He heard a gentle sigh.

“It’s never too early for you,” Shanks said. “A bit ahead of when I usually wake, but…” he hummed, exceedingly smug. “It’s cute, how you just can’t wait to hear my voice. So precious, baby.”

Ace rolled his eyes toward the starry sky. “Yeah, I’m hangin’ up.”

Shanks let out a laugh. “Wait, now, come on. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“It’s just… been a long day.” After a few moments of curling the cord tighter, Ace asked, “Actually, could you talk about your day? What’ve you been up to?”

A thoughtful hum came over the line, followed by a snort. “You should’ve seen the damn mess Yasopp got us into yesterday. There we were, perusing a market, when the man starts haggling…”

Ace sighed. It was nice, listening to Shanks describe the people he’d run into, the locales he and his crew had explored. Really, it would’ve been nicer to be there at his side for it all, but… the timing wasn’t right. Not yet.

Still, Ace could imagine it. He laid his head in his arms, and let Shanks’ voice carry him over the water.

Finally, as Shanks murmured about dishes they could try “just a few islands over,” Ace felt his eyelids drooping. He gave himself a small shake.

The nighttime breeze was cooler now, biting against his skin. Ace noted the hazy ache of tiredness beneath his eyes; the rhythmic lap of the ocean and its vast, ceaseless waves. Domed above him, the crispness of the stars only added to his sense of the world being yawningly immense. It would have left him unsettled… if not for the sound of Shanks’ steady breathing over the line: a tiny, precious tether in the dark.

Ace cleared his throat.

“Thanks, Shanks.”

His conversation partner snickered. “Good rhyme.”

“Yeah.” Ace smiled. “I mean it, though. For this, and… everything you’ve done. For being you.”

Ace hesitated, stomach churning at his trite words. The night’s darkness helped mute his embarrassment, though; same as the blush on his cheeks.

“It means a lot,” he finished, voice soft.

There was a brief, yet heavy silence after that, like Shanks was lingering in the pause between one breath and the next. Finally, he murmured, “We’re lucky bastards, aren’t we? I mean—” He waited a moment, so Ace could finish chuckling.

Then he said, “I’m grateful too. To have found you.”

Ace blinked, staring out into the moonlit night. All he could offer was an agreeing hum.

After lingering in the contented silence a moment longer, Shanks finally gave a soft laugh, and said, “Guess you should give sleep another go.”

“Ugh. Yeah.” Ace wiped a hand down his face, but turned toward the Den Den Mushi with a smile. “Alright. Love you.”

“Love you too, little flame. Goodnight, Ace.”

He grinned. “Good morning, Shanks.”

Shanks’ laugh was just crackling out when Ace replaced the receiver. He heard enough, however, to be flooded with warmth on the way back to his quarters; and as he laid in bed, easily welcoming sleep.

#shanksace #red haired shanks #portgas d ace #one piece #set at some ambiguous point of time in an established relationship...??

94 notes · View notes

accio-victuuri · 7 months ago

Text

follow up clowning related to gg’s weibo post from here. a reminder first that i don’t think everything has to mean something and most of the time what they post is just plain and simple. we are clowns, so we will speculate but that doesn’t mean we have to find some candy for every content they post before we can enjoy & appreciate it. for example, we also think that the reason GG is doing these solar terms right now, while he is filming LoZ is in the synopsis of the drama, his character is the son of the “director of the Imperial Observatory of the Great Yong Kingdom” , that’s the english translation. but the key here in the original text is this word: 钦天监 [qīn tiān jiàn].

what is it? thank you to good old baidu for always having the answer:

Qin Tianjian is the signature of an official whose function is to observe celestial phenomena, calculate solar terms, and formulate calendars.

calculating solar terms. so that could be the connection he is hinting at that is somehow significant to the character he is playing. makes sense right?

this is not me washing anyone’s candy. i’m only laying out alternative explanations cause that’s how i do things. lol. the addition i have seen going around is kadian related and i’m not a kadian girlie so i was blocking it out when i first saw it. 😅😅😅

okay, now let’s go to the cpn. ⬇️⬇️⬇️

the post he made is his 1085th on weibo. oh what a good number, like a mashup between their birthdays. and the kadian that was used 191919. which means still still still. or you can concentrate on the repeated use of the number 999 ( In Chinese, nine is pronounced jiu, which also means “long lasting.” As the highest single digit, it represents the maximum level of mortal happiness, longevity, and good luck. A perfect ten is reserved for the gods. Case in point: in respect to the Heavens, the Forbidden City in Beijing has 9999.5 rooms, just short of a flawless 10,000. )

who is saying still too? forever with who? wang yibo. based on my first post about it, his use of that word 谷雨 that also came up in LTS lyrics.

another coincidence is that in the song itself, the word comes up in the 0:19 mark. 👀

commemorating the anniversary of when he followed yibo on weibo, 4/20/2018 so he posted on the eve of that day. maybe he is celebrating something else that only the two of them know and it’s not necessarily something as mundane as following a person on weibo. who knows. however, it’s on the bxg calendar so we are marking that down as a possible reason. 📝

i love this explanation tho, that goes back to that actual day years ago and what happened. it was the 5th day of filming CQL and they did not have scenes together, so why did he pay attention and followed him? he was filming the scene in the burial mounds, WWX was drunk and reminiscing about when he first met LWJ. WWX misses LWJ cause he is not there. Was XZ also missing WYB that time? to the point that he went to his weibo account and followed him?

it’s not a secret that XZ prefers it when WYB is there, not only to act with, but just there for him. plus this level of attachment on the 5th day of filming is not surprising when it comes to them.

finally, the imagery of the rain when it comes to them is one that holds some meaning. much like how we fixate on the stars and moon. photos below to show some of those relations to the rain. ☔️

and that lrlg conversation they had that went:

XZ: "I'm waiting for you"

WYB: "I'll come and have dinner with you when it rains”

XZ: "Tomorrow's meal"

WYB: "Then tomorrow"

before we end, i’ll add this quote that seems to fit the whole subject of rain:

"Because it rains so often, many important things in life seem to have happened in the rain. Those memories are now uncovered and still feel wet. Even if they dry, they are like a book soaked in water, with ripples on the paper that are difficult to calm down."

sources aside from the ones directly linked: one / two / three / four 💛

#yizhan #bjyx #there is no science here i’m just clowning like i always do

70 notes · View notes

shadykazama · 2 months ago

Text

I have thoughts about the wind bag in epic the musical...

Hear me out!

In the original myth, Odysseus was kinda a dick and had a big ego. He looked down on his crew and other people, mainly because of his great intelligence. When they got the wind bag, he didn't tell anyone what was in it. No warnings, no trust, nothing! So it made sense why his crew opened the bag. They had nothing to go off of, no trust from their king- who even told them that he doesn't HAVE to tell them what's in it because he's superior to them.

In the musical, however, Jorge is painting a more sympathetic- while still troubled, hero. His relationship with Eurylochus in particular and Eurylochus' betrayal is what I think needs more work. As is, either Eury is a total bitch OR there's no logical reason for him to have betrayed Odysseus and therefore a plot hole.

I for one, enjoy the relationship they have and the drama of both of their betrayals- and they only work that well because we're supposed to 'like' (or at least understand) both characters. So for the sake of that I want to argue that Eury was simply a victim of a plot hole and not just being a bad person.

I had a whole hour long debate arguing for Eurylochus' honor and I came to the conclusion that he really didn't have a good reason in canon to open the wind bag.

I of course argued that he noticed Odysseus cracking under the pressure of losing Polites and the guidance of Athena, and that as his friend, brother in law, and second in command, he was concerned and voiced his doubts. Him and Ody argued in 'Luck Runs Out' and that was a breaking point for their relationship where Eury felt like his voice was being silenced and he wasn't trusted anymore. BUT, my boyfriend made a good counter argument; at this point, nobody knew Odysseus had fucked up by giving the Cyclops his name, so in the eyes of his crew he hadn't made a single big mistake. At every other point, Eurylochus has listened to Odysseus' orders and Odysseus has every right to expect some faith from the (almost) 600 men he'd managed to keep alive through a ten year war.

I digress, that argument was still very important for them and on both sides I think they're right in their own ways. I don't want to take away from that. But why would Eurylochus open the wind bag when, in this iteration, he was told directly from Odysseus what was in it? You could argue that argument broke his trust, but I don't know... They've known each other since they were kids, they're literally related (Eurylochus is married to Ody's sister)! Was it suspicious that Odysseus wouldn't part with the bag? A little, but not enough I think that Eurylochus would directly betray his brother, especially after just losing Polites and being vocally upset about it. PLUS, it was Eurylochus who was arguing about how dangerous the gods are! Why would he open a bag that Odysseus got from a God, that he was TOLD has the storm inside??

Makes no sense narratively for his character🙅‍♂️

And the narrative solution to this is as simple as a couple of lines being added to the song "Keep Your Friends Close". We could take this two ways:

One, Aeolus tells Odysseus that the "catch" is that he can't tell anyone what's in the bag. It would keep to the original story where Odysseus doesn't tell his crew what's in the bag, sparking distrust, but still keep Odysseus a sympathetic character. It would also give Eurylochus a reason to open the bag. Either he caves to the pressure of the crew, all desperate to know what's in this bag that their captain refuses to tell them about, OR he's just festering from the argument still and being told by Odysseus that not even he, his second in command, can know what's in the bag becomes the last straw. Because at that point, at least to Eurylochus, it's clear Odysseus doesn't trust him, so why should he give Odysseus his trust in return?

Or two, a similar route would be to play into Odysseus' grief and paranoia piling up and have him refuse Eurylochus. A simple line, Odysseus has been awake for multiple days straight and his now closest friend, asks to watch the bag for him so he can rest. Odysseus, so close to home and drowning in exhaustion, both mental and physical, snaps and refuses his second in command- causing a rift. The same thing occurs, with Eurylochus still shaken from their argument, now met with an Odysseus who doesn't trust him and yet demands full trust back.

Either way, Eurylochus now has a reason to open the bag that's at least plausible from his point of view and it wouldn't require more than an additional two or three lines of dialogue added to the song.

Thanks for coming to my Ted talk

Have a picture of my cat as a reward ✨

#epic the musical #odysseus #the odyssey #epic the ocean saga #i just think the betrayal would've hit harder if he had a good reason #let this reach the right audience #yall dont understand how excited i am for the next saga

40 notes · View notes

trolagygirl2022 · 2 years ago

Text

Fame indicators in the charts of kpop idols

Important places/asteroid I look for:

5th house

1th house

2th house

3rd house

4th house

6th house

9th house

10th house

11tg house

12th house

Asteroid "Fama" (408)

Asteroid "Singer"

Asteroid "Apollo"

Asteroid "Talent"

Asteroid "Dionysus"

Venus

Asteroid "Jobbe"

North Node

Part of fortune

Jupiter

Vertex

Asteroid "Destinn"

Lilith

Neptune

Uranus

And degrees!

1st house of self:

Neptune/Venus 1st house

This placement can not only be a beauty placement but one of creativity and music too as Neptune and Venus can rule over music (Same applies to Pisces and Taurus/Libra first house)

Dionysus and Apollo in the 1st house=BORN PREFORMERS. And talented musicians too

Singer in the 1st house/Aries

2nd house of the voice

Venus, Singer, Dionysus, Apollo, NN and Destinn, Talent, PoF, Vertex Jupiter, Mercury Fama and Jobbe in Taurus/2nd house. Especially if they are conjunct their big 6. Moon in the 2nd house can also give singing skills. And Venus can indicate making money from singing as well.

3rd house of writing and communication

Venus, Talent, Jupiter and Mercury in Gemini/3rd house can make someone a fantastic writer. Also 3rd house can represent TV, and media in general and lots of kpop idols are famous due to social media.

4th house of the home

Pluto and Uranus in the 4th house. (Scorpio and Aquarius/Pisces)

Jungkook has a Scorpio 4th house and Jihyo has Uranus 4th house. Both had an unconventional childhood and we're spending their young years training to debut and it must have been a transformative period for them.

5th house of Creativity

ANY fifth house placement literally ANYTHING.

6th house of routine

ALOT of kpop groups/idols have 6th house placements it makes sense given the intense routine kpop idols have. So placements I'm sure idols would have are Jupiter, Venus, Singer and Jobbe. (Enhypen has Asteroid Singer in their 6th house)

9th house of travel and expansion

If I were HYBE's astrologer I would debut their groups under Sagittarius season lol. Sagittarius literally rules over luck and expansion so a group with Sagittarius placements can have more luck (like Enhypen and IVE). So Jupiter, Venus, Fama are really important here! (Same goes for placements in Sagittarius).

10th house of career

Any placement is good here honestly, but ones I see a lot are: Sun, Venus, Uranus, Singer, Jobbe, and Talent. Also if they are conjunct MC.

11th house of groups and internet

This House is important for idols because it rules over groups. So Vertex, Destinn, Venus, Sun, Singer, and Fama are some main key factors here.

12th house of music and foreign lands

(can't include more gifs ugh)

Again any placement is important here. Jungkook has his Fama in Cancer and you all know how it went down for him lol...

Important Signs/ rising signs I've seen idols have:

Libra (Charismatic, music, beauty)

Taurus (beauty, music, singing)

Pisces (Beauty, music)

Aquarius (Especially in the 10th house, can also rule of creativity.)

Leo (Just plain fame, SO MANY idols have a Leo placement.)

Gemini (Great song writers but also great stan attractors. Can make great centers)

Sagittarius (Again great stan attractors, charming and also rules over luck and success)

Important Degrees:

1, 2, 5, 7, 11, (a lot of idols and groups have 11 degrees in their charts) 12, 14, 17, 19, 21, 24, 27, 28, 29.

Phew that was a long post! Let me know what you find in idols charts too! You can ask me to guess the rising signs idols without birth times and their ideal types in my ask box. Have a great day :)

#kpop birth chart reading #astrology #astro notes #birth chart #astro placements #birth chart readings #bts astrology #fame indicators astrology #fame indicators #Leo #Aquarius #Gemini #Libra #Sagittarius #Taurus

270 notes · View notes

justash02 · 2 years ago

Text

Womanizer; 04

A/n; lemme know if you have feedback! It’s always welcome! So are Requests!

Plot; Everyone who knew who Tom Kaulitz was knew that he was girl crazy, he's very well known for having girls around him all the time.

Pairing; Tom Kaulitz x fem reader.

Previous chapter -> next chapter.

Master list

Taglist<3

*^*^*

"Oh I love it and I hate it at the same time, you and I drank the poison from the same wine"

*^*^*

"Breaking news! Trouble in debut world! Lead singer Y/n L/n slaps leader Adam Smith after not getting the best rookie album award!"

"Want to explain this?" Ray, our manager asked, "This is you guys 6 week as a band and you guys already fighting?" Ray said looking me in the eyes.

Adam sat next me, he kept shifting in the chair he was sitting in avoiding Ray. "It's her fault, Ray." He mumbled.

Ray looked over at me as if to ask if he's telling the truth making me shake my head, "What happened." I wanted to open my mouth before Ray continued; "Every detail and calm please." I nodded.

"We were placed at the same table as Tokio Hotel, Tom Kaulitz was just making some flirty comments-"

"He was trying to fuck you."

"Let's Y/n speak."

A mhpm was heard next to me indicating that the boy next to me wasn't happy with the way this was going.

"As I was saying he was being himself, which he is known for." I said dramatically turning to Adam, "and I just brushed it off but this Clown here said I was just trying to fuck my way up."

"Ugh Adam, what's wrong with you." Ray groaned as I finished the story, "Tom is pretty known for having intercourse with almost all girls he meets, Y/n is attractive, what did you expect?"

"that doesn't make it right!" Adam suddenly yelled making me jump, "Y/n is not only your lead singer but also a human, stop treating her like she can't decide for herself. If she wants to have sex with Mr. kaulitz that so be it."

Wow, feminist Ray? I love this Ray.

"I'm just trying to protect my best friend." Said as he started to rub the back of his neck, he looked over at me with those puppy eyes I've grown to feel safe around.

"I'm sorry, Y/n. I shouldn't have said that to you." He apologized grabbing my hand in his gently rubbing the back with his thumb.

"I forgive you, but don't you ever do that shit again." He nodded and smiled at me, suddenly feeling a sense of relieve coming from him.

*^*^*

Soon the day of the shooting had come and Bill was sitting with me in my trailer, Anne was already busy doing my makeup while Bill was being Bill in the background.

"Before I forgot to tell you this, Toms gonna be here soon." My eyes widened as I stared at the black haired boy.

"Why?" I panicked making him laugh, "He's probably fucking some girl here, he told me he had business here." He said mindlessly while flipping through a magazine.

Oh ok so there's basically nothing to worry about. Right?

"We're going for a red wet look ok?" Anne asked me as she was putting a bright red lip tint on my lips. I hummed and smiled slightly as she told me smack my lips together to get it to go evenly.

"You're ready." Anne said as she stepped away letting me see my look, she made my hair look wet by using gel, my lips were a bright red and so was the wing like eyeshadow. All around my face were small red gems glued to my face making me gasp.

"You out did yourself yet again Anne!" I giggled as I stood there in awe looking at my look.

I could feel Bill's eyes burn the back of my head as he was observing me. He had a small smile on his face as he stood up.

He turned me around and wrapped his arms around me, "You look gorgeous." I couldn't help but feel like my cheeks were on fire.

"Thank you, Bill." He nodded and patted my head, "Good luck."

*^*^*

"There's something missing." The director said, "We need something spicier." She spoke again.

We had done a few takes now for other songs and this one was one of the last songs we needed to do and the director wanted it to be perfect.

"Is there any man that would like to do a scene with Y/n?" My eyes widened as I looked over at Adam, silently telling him to do something.

"Uh ma'am can't we think of something else." The woman shook her head as she She had already made up her mind.

"You!" I followed her finger and saw- TOM? No. No. I WILL NOT.

"You look perfect for what I have in mind!" Tom was looking rough to say the least. His dreads looked like a mess, his pants was half pass his hips telling me he was in a rush to putting them back on.

Ah he did have some business here.

"Me? I'm not an actor." He tried to say but the director already pushed him over to me making him trip halfway to me.

I quickly grabbed his arm keeping him steady, he nodded out of appreciation and stood next to me.

"I don't think I have to ask if you're sexually active, sir?" He just smirked and played with the band of his pants. Fuck did he look good post nut.

"I am, ma'am. Wanna get in line?" She smirked at him before handing him her card with her number. When I tell you my jaw dropped when he winked at her and put the card in his pocket Im not joking.

"Well this pretty young lady is a virgin."

"Hey I've never said that!" I yelled out embarrassed, I could hear Bill laughing in the background.

"You didn't have to baby, it's obvious." Wow ok. Bitch.

"It's ok baby, he'll take good care of you."

"What the fuck, are we actually making porn?!" I heard Ben yell from the back as I heard Clair laugh her ass off.

Assholes. All of them.

"What's your name darling?" She asked Tom, "Tom Kaulitz." She smirked.

"Well Tom, I need you guys to pretend to actually be sexually attracted to each other." She explained.

"Wouldn't be too hard for Y/n!" Ben yelled, which led to a loud "OW" from him a second later.

"You guys haven't had sex yet, the sexual tension is getting higher and higher. You guys need each other, you can't live without each other. You need that deeper connection. Tom's a fuck boy and you're that sweet innocent girl."

#cute imagines #x reader #tom haulitz x reader #tom haulitz #bill haulitz #bill Kaulitz x reader #tokio hotel #tokio hotel x reader

394 notes · View notes

frogwiththephatahh · 2 months ago

Text

Ranking All Act 1 Songs in Epic: The Musical

Disclaimer: I like all the songs! I just like some more than others. The ones with low rankings are not at all bad! Furthermore this is a personal opinion so please don't be mad at me if we disagree about placing! (also rb with your own rankings I want to compare it'll be fun)

20. There Are other Ways- I just never really got into this one. It didn't stand out to me like the other songs in its saga did. I do love how it shows us just how dedicated Ody is to Penelope, though. It's sort of a light foreshadowing of just what he'll give up for her.

19. Storm- Love singing along with the crew, but it doesn't appeal to me as much as others.

18. Full Speed Ahead- A great introduction to the main crew members, showing their priorities and personalities. But there are better crew songs.

17. Polyphemus- I was holding my breath during this entire song. Great! And that final line at the end makes my heart sink every time. But not as striking as others in Cyclops.

16. Warrior Of The Mind- First heard this song on tiktok, like most people. It's great, but at this point it's overplayed.

15. My Goodbye- A step up from WotM for me. Not much to say about it though.

14. Remember Them- Heartfelt and shows just how clever Odysseus is. Well, up until he doxxed himself.

13. Puppeteer- The beginning cord is so moving. Otherwise it's a great introduction to Circe.

12. Luck Runs Out- The emotion in Armando's performances never ceases to amaze me. Every one of Eurylochus' songs have so much raw emotion poured into them.

11. The Horse And The Infant- An excellent introduction to our starting point. The duet between Zeus and Odysseus at the end is an ear worm.

10. Open Arms- A proper introduction to Polites, and one that made me shudder when The Cave was mentioned. It's such an uplifting song that sets a more hopeful tone, only for it to be ripped away in the next saga.

9. Survive- Impossible not to sing along with. And Polites' rasping "captain...?" as he dies? And Polyphemus twisting Odysseus' words at the end? Literally life changing. People died.

8. Wouldn't You Like- Ngl this one is only this high because Hermes is one of my fav greek gods (and one of my patrons) Also it's so catchy.

7. Done For- So good I started boarding an animation (I haven't animated in ten years)

6. The Underworld- Absolutely the best crew song! I tear up at Anticlea's part every time. Devastating.

5. Keep Your Friends Close- So catchy! I like to drum along to the beat. I wish Aeolus was in more than one song though...her voice is lovely.

4. Ruthlessness- First song I heard from the Ocean saga and what got me into Epic full swing. The animatics people make for this one are insanely good. And as an avid hater of Poseidon, this song made me adore him.

3. Just A Man- It's the song almost everyone knows this musical from because of tiktok. And there's a reason! It's a good ass song. Especially the ending.

2. Monster- Actually shudders! Omg this one is so good. And it's a huge turning point for the entire show. Which makes sense since it's the final song in the first act. The last part ESPECIALLY is an ear worm.

No Longer You- A WALTZ? WITH TIRESIAS? Actually brilliant. I always imagine souls in the underworld dancing around Tiresias and Odysseus to form a wall of blue fire trapping them together. Cannot help but sing along to it. So catchy, so good, so moving.

#ill do this again with act 2 once it's complete #lemme know your own rankings!#Im really curious #epic the musical #epic the troy saga #epic the ocean saga #epic the cyclops saga #epic the circe saga #jorge rivera herrans #the odyssey #odysseus

22 notes · View notes

something-tofightfor · 2 years ago

Text

Black Days 1: Sure Don’t Mind A Change

Pairing: Detective Tim Rockford x Female Reader

Word Count: 4,500 (trying to keep these shorter than usual.)

Rating: M (language.)

Summary: The overnight shift at your diner is usually uneventful, but that all changes when a man you’ve never seen before walks into your section. After a few conversations with him, you can’t say that you aren’t interested in knowing more.

Author’s Note: This is Pedro Pascal and Merge Mansion’s fault.

Read the headcanon post for Tim here.

I don’t know how long this will be. I don’t know whether or not anyone cares. But here I am yet again writing for a character that has no backstory, under five minutes of screen time, and no business taking up so much room in my brain.

This isn’t smutty yet - but I promise it gets there. This is a set-up chapter.

Chapter titles will be updated with each post.

Here and here is some Tim artwork that has been in my brain constantly as I write this story. @stealyourblorbos is very talented and has encouraged me with this very much and I am very thankful. (She also made this incredible banner for me!)

The story gets its title from the song Fell On Black Days by Soundgarden.

“That guy’s back.” Micah sighed as she leaned against the doorway, both arms crossed over her chest. “I put him in your section tonight because I don’t want to deal with him.”

You frowned, closing your book of crossword puzzles and then standing. That guy? Your gaze drifted out toward the seating area. Who is she talking about? “Tell me again what the problem with him was?”

“He was an asshole. Barely looked up from whatever he was doing and got pissed when I told him that we were out of whatever it was he tried to order.” She flopped down into the open seat, reaching for the bowl of fries you’d been working through. “Good luck.”

It didn’t sound like a real reason for her to be upset, but you weren’t going to complain about finally having something to do after hours of nothing. At least it’ll be someone to talk to.

Pasting a smile on your face, you rounded the corner and headed for the only table that had someone sitting at it: the one furthest away from the kitchen. “Hi, I’ll be taking care of you tonight. Is there anything I can get for you to drink?”

He was looking intently at what was in front of him - a file that was stuffed thick with papers and a notepad that you could see was filled with scribbles. He’s busy. Without raising his head, the man spoke. “Coffee. Black. Keep it coming.”

His voice was deep - slightly accented, though you couldn’t place it. When he finished, he sighed, the fingertips of one hand pressed against his forehead. Micah wasn’t kidding. “Do you need a menu? I can bring one with the -”

“No.” He set the folder down and raised his hand, removing the glasses he wore before pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just the coffee. I -”

He finally looked at you then, and you were struck by how handsome he was, despite the fact that you could see the fatigue in his expression and in his eyes. Makes sense if he’s here at 2:30 in the morning with that kind of file.

“Just the coffee.” The man blinked twice and then looked back down, sighing. Alright then. After only a second or two, you turned away, heading back toward where the coffee pots were.

You’d brewed a fresh pot for the kitchen a little while earlier, and decided to use that for the man, since it was ready. After pressing the button to make a second pot for the dining room, you headed back to Micah, carrying a clean mug in your hand. “That didn’t take long. What’d I tell you?”

“He’s just tired, Em. It’s late. Hell, if I wasn’t here, I’d hope I was sleeping too.” You grabbed the pot, shrugging. “He was short with me, but it’s definitely not the worst I’ve ever had during an overnight.” She hummed and then went back to the crossword she’d started in your book, muttering the words “better you than me” as you moved out of earshot.

The man was bent back over the file and didn’t look up when you set the mug down. But he did glance at you when you started filling it, peeking up at you from behind the thick black frames he’d slid back onto his nose. “Brought you the kitchen pot. It’s a little stronger than what we usually serve customers, but you look like you could use it.”

His lips parted in surprise, but instead of speaking, he just nodded, reaching for the handle of the mug with his left hand. You assessed him with the same interest as all of the customers you served late at night, and as the man brought the rim of the mug to his lips and took a cautious sip, you stepped back. No ring.

“I’m making you a fresh pot just in case you need it, but I don’t want to bother you if you’re working, so…” You gestured to the papers on the table. “I’ll check back in a little while. We do have some pastries if you’re not looking for actua-”

“What kind of pie do you have tonight?” He straightened up completely, turning his head and tilting it up to look at you. “Last time I was in here, I asked about the Key lime, but the girl said you were out.”

“We’re out of it again tonight. Sorry.” Shaking your head, you put your free hand on your hip. “It’s a seasonal, so we only make a certain amount of it every week.” He frowned, but didn’t say anything else. “Lasted longer today than it usually does. I think we sold the last piece around midnight.”

He stared at you, lower lip pushed out slightly, and though you didn’t want to, you couldn’t help eyeing him right back. You focused on his face and the stubble that covered his cheeks - dark brown threaded with silver, the overhead fluorescent lighting catching more of the same on his head.

“Damn. Alright. Just the coffee then.” He swallowed, taking a deep breath. “And if you want to check on me every twenty or so minutes, that’d… that’d be good.”

“I can do that.” Giving him a nod, you stepped away from the table. “And the Key ime is great, but so’s the strawberry rhubarb, and the lemon zest’s not bad, either.” His lips twitched but he kept quiet, nodding once. Guess his mind’s set on that lime.

The rest of the night played out much the same as the first two trips to his table did. The man said only a few words in reply when you asked if he needed anything, but you noticed his notebook filling with ink-scrawled words and phrases as time passed.

A second table sat just before 4:30 am - three older men on their way to a fishing trip at Prospect Slough.

So you didn’t notice when the other man left until you turned to ask if he needed another refill and found only the empty table, a $20 stuck beneath the empty coffee mug along with a note that simply said “thank you” in the same handwriting that had filled the lined pages of his spiral notebook.

Weird. But at least he left a good tip. Tucking the bill into your apron, you cleared the table and checked in on the fishing party before taking the dirty mug into the kitchen.

Micah was finishing her side work and Jesse, the night cook was working on three plates of eggs and hash browns for your fishermen.

“Did he leave without paying?” She glanced over at you. “Seems like he snuck out pretty f-”

“No, actually he left a sixteen dollar tip for the coffee.” You entered it into the second register, cashing out and putting the extra bills into your pocket. “Didn’t wait for the bill or anything, but ..” You shrugged. “I can’t complain, especially after how slow the beginning of the night was.”

“You really should see what you can do about getting out of that lease so you can quit working here.” Micah put her hands on her hips. “This isn’t healthy.” I know. You think I don’t know that? “How much longer do you have?”

“Seven months.” You yawned, covering your mouth. “I’ll be fine.”

She didn’t press the subject, and when the two of you walked across the parking lot to your cars a little after 6, the man with the tired eyes that had consumed almost an entire pot of coffee wasn’t even in your thoughts.

—

But three days later, when he walked in the front door of the restaurant a little after 1 AM, your focus was immediately back on him.

It was slightly busier that night, so you were actually waiting near the main register, keeping an eye on things as people made their way in. But you hadn’t seen him park - nor had you spotted him crossing the parking lot. So when he pulled open the door and stepped into the lobby, his eyes locking with yours and a faint smile making its way across his face, it was a shock. But not a bad one.

“Hello.” He spoke first that time. The man gave you a single nod, one hand stuck in the pocket of his long, tan overcoat. “Should I seat myself?”

“You can if you want.” Pointing at the dining room, you smiled. “The table you sat at the other night is open and that’s my section. Micah’s got a couple tables to check on, so if you give me a few seconds, I can …” He waved you off, taking a breath.

“Don’t rush. Just coffee again for me tonight. Maybe an ice water with lemon, too?” The man sniffed, tongue darting out to wet his lower lip. “The ah, the first cup the other night was better, so if I can get another one of those, I’d… I’d appreciate it.” He shuffled back and forth for a few seconds until you laughed, nodding.

“Yeah, of course. I haven’t been in the back in a little while so I don’t know how fresh our pot is, but if it’s old, I’ll make a new one and then bring it out to you.”

He thanked you and then headed for the tables, turning to the side to let Micah pass. For the first time, you noticed the tattered briefcase he carried, his fingers clasped tightly around the handles. Hmm. I wonder if he’s going to become a regular.

You didn’t think you’d be upset if that were the case, because despite the fact that the man was quiet and a little stand-offish, he wasn’t needy.

You’d had your fair share of needy customers both during your time at the restaurant then and while you’d waited tables during high school and college. Compared to some of those people, the man that was settling into the far-off booth after shrugging off his coat and loosening his tie was a breeze. And he’s nice to look at.

Ducking into the kitchen, you saw that the coffee pot was in the process of filling, thanks to Jesse. While you waited, you turned and grabbed for one of the small carafes, deciding that because you were busier that night, you’d set the man up with his own refills. It made things more convenient for him - and it bought you time between visits to the table.

On your way to the dining room, full carafe and mug in one hand, you pulled the refrigerator open with the other and then grinned, shutting it before heading toward where the man sat. He already had the folder and the notebook open, the latter showing off a half-filled page of bullet point notes.

He didn’t look up until you set the mug and container down, the man’s eyes widening behind the lenses of his glasses as he locked eyes with you. “What’s this?”

“We’re busier tonight.” Resting one hand on your hip, you gestured around. “And I figured you didn’t want to be bothered again, so bringing you preemptive refills seemed like a good idea.” Pausing, you gestured to his papers. “That way I won’t interrupt you in the middle of something. You can work in peace.”

“I…” He blinked, frowning, though he didn’t take his eyes off of you. “That’s really thoughtful. Thank you.” Now tell him the other thing.

“No problem. And … I’m not sure if you’re interested, but …” Leaning in, you arched a brow. “There’s Key Lime in the cooler. I can bring you a piece if you want.” For the first time, you saw a genuine smile on his face as he nodded, the man’s eyes lighting up in excitement.

“Shit. Really?” You nodded once. “Yeah, I’ll take one of those, too.” I figured you would. “Can I…” He bit his lip, furrowing his brow. “Can I get extra whip, please?”

Laughing, you winked at him. “I’ll see what I can do.” Takes his coffee black but wants extra whipped cream for his pie. Hmm.

A few minutes later, you were setting the pie plate and a set of rolled cutlery on the table, careful not to disturb any of the man’s papers. “Flag me down if you need anything else, alright?” He assured you he would as he reached for the napkin, his eyes on the slightly larger than usual triangle slice of pie and two extra dollops of whipped cream next to it.

You stayed busy after that, and though you visually checked on the table a few times, you never walked back over.

So when, around 3:15, you finally stopped at his table to ask if he needed a refill and to grab his empty plate, you were surprised to see that the man was packing his things up - the notebook and folder already tucked into the briefcase. “Oh. I’ll give you your check, then. I can meet you up front when you’re ready?”

He met your eyes again, the deep brown slightly less weary that time. “Works for me. See you in a second.”

Dropping the dishes off atop the stack from your other tables next to the back sink, you headed for the register. You were surprised to see the man already waiting - and Micah nowhere in sight. Good.

“Was everything alright for you tonight?” Taking the slip of paper from him, you brought up the check in the system, fingers tapping over the keys. “The pie taste ok?”

“It was fucking delicious. You guys are the only ones that don’t put toasted coconut on it.” He hummed in appreciation as he spoke, your eyes snapping up at the sound of his voice. “Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to -”

“I work overnight at a 24 hour diner. I’ve heard much worse.” He chuckled at that, your stomach lurching at the sound. I’d like to hear that more. You pressed your lips together in an attempt to keep from outwardly reacting, though you couldn’t help the sharp inhale through your nose. Dammit. “But I’m glad. I don’t know how often you come in here, but you’re much more likely to have luck with the lime in the middle of the week when we’re less busy or really early in the day, when people are still coming in for breakfast and lunch.”

“My schedule’s all over the place.” He gripped the back of his neck, the sleeve of his coat pulling up to expose the band of his watch. “Can’t really plan for anything right now, so it’s … luck of the draw.”

“Well,” you continued, reaching out to take the money he offered you. “Then I guess you’ll just have to keep your fingers crossed if you decide to come back.” He assured you he would, taking his change and slipping it back into his wallet. “Have a good night, alright? Get home safe.”

“You too.” The man set his hand down on the countertop, fingertips flexing slightly. “You only work here at night?” You glanced down at his hand, taking note of the small tattoo inked between his thumb and first finger - and didn’t try to stop the lift of one cheek in a quick smile at the sight of it. A hand tattoo? Interesting.

“I do. I have a regular job, too. But my sleep’s been fu… really bad for the last six months, so I just decided that instead of laying in bed and not sleeping, I’d do something productive with my time.” You wet your lips, glancing back over at the dining room - which was empty except for a table that Micah was taking care of. “I work here three or four nights a week, depending on what they need.”

You weren’t used to telling customers so much about yourself, but you found it easy to talk to the man, especially when he was looking at you and holding your gaze. I’m not telling him anything he wouldn’t know if he came in a few more times, either.

“Well then, I’m sure you’ll see me again.” Tapping on the counter, he pulled his hand back and turned toward the door, taking a half step before he stopped, twisting at the waist to look at you again. “I’m Tim, by the way. Tim Rockford.”

“You already know my name,” you laughed, pointing at the nametag hanging from your shirt. “But it’s nice to meet you, Tim.”

“Nice to meet you too.” He nodded. “See you around, yeah?” Telling him that he would, you watched as he walked out the front door and across the parking lot, the lights on a shadowy vehicle flashing on as he unlocked it. That was… unexpected.

Stabbing the ticket on the spike next to the register, you stepped away from the counter and back toward where Tim had been sitting.

The table was mostly cleared and clean, but there was another folded napkin beneath his water glass, the cup empty except for a couple half melted ice cubes. Picking up both, you unfolded the napkin and gasped when you saw another $20 inside, along with three words slashed onto the napkin’s surface in bold, black pen.

Thank you. Again.

—

Tim didn’t come in during your next shift, or the one following that.

But when you showed up to work the following Wednesday, there was a note hanging on the back bulletin board for you from one of the girls that had worked the night before.

Unfolding it, you read through the short message, lips twisting into a frown as you finished.

Some guy was in here around 3 am asking about you. Didn’t think anything of it at first, but he spent two hours making notes at the table. I also heard him mention a case when he took a phone call. Thought you’d want to know.

“Shit.” Scrubbing a hand over your face, you let out a long breath.

It was nice of Nicki to let you know that someone had asked about you, especially taking the end of the message into consideration. But if it was Tim, then … Rolling your eyes, you sighed and then started your shift, trying not to think about the implications of Tim being the one to ask about you - and it potentially being related to a case he was working. But why would… it makes no sense. What does he do that he’d have cases?

You had very little time to think about it during the first half of your shift. There’d been an event that night that had let out late, which meant extra tables to take care of. When you finally got a break a little after 2, you glanced over to the far corner of the restaurant. Oh.

The man was bent over his table, the fingers of one hand supporting his forehead as he stared at the papers in front of him. You could almost feel his stress, even from twenty feet away. It’s not my problem. Turning back toward the kitchen, you took a few steps and then stopped, tilting your head back and looking at the ceiling. Don’t avoid it. You don’t even know if Nicki’s right.

You approached the table slowly, keeping your eyes on Tim. When you were only a few feet away, he looked up, his brows rising in surprise. “Hey.” Tim straightened up, pushing everything to the side. “Finally getting a break?”

“Were you watching me?” Crossing your arms, you tilted your head to the right. “Because -”

“Not watching.” He leaned back in the booth, crossing his arms over his chest, too. “When the other girl seated me, I saw that you had a couple tables in the other section, that’s all.” Tim licked his lips, narrowing his eyes. “Something wrong?”

You hadn’t wanted to lead with an attitude, but you couldn’t help it. “My coworker said you asked about me last night, and I guess I’m just wondering why. I’ve worked here for five months and hadn’t ever seen you before two weeks ago. Now you’re asking people about me when I’m not here, and I just -”

“Whoa.” He held up a hand, shaking his head. “I did ask about you, but it was only because I didn’t know if you’d get in trouble for giving me kitchen coffee, and I didn’t want to rat you out.” Oh. You took a breath, blinking as Tim reached up and removed his glasses, folding the arms closed and then setting them down on the table. “I didn’t even think about how it might sound, to be honest. I apologize. I -”

“No, I’m sorry, Tim. I just…” You rolled your eyes, trying to decide what you wanted to say. “It’s been a rough year, and I guess I’m not exactly ….” Trailing off, you covered your face with one hand. Don’t. Lowering your hand, you gave him a tight smile. “Nevermind.”

He stayed quiet for a few seconds and you did too, the two of you looking at each other intently.

He was studying your face, the man’s eyes roving over your features, deep lines etched between his brows. You used the opportunity to stare back at him, focusing on the patchy place in his beard and on the way the tanned skin of his upper chest was visible thanks to his top few buttons being undone. He was tapping one finger on his bicep, and the longer you looked, the worse you felt about your outburst.

But I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t because … “Um.” Head shaking back and forth, you sighed. “I’m technically on my break, and I know you’re not my table, but is there anything I can get you? We’re out of the Key lime again, but I can go and brew you some coffee if you want the good stuff.”

“I’m actually going to head out.” He glanced down at his watch and then looked back at you, smiling sadly. “I have a long drive tomorrow morning so I have to try and sleep for a couple hours.” He pointed at his almost empty mug. “I’m even drinking decaf tonight.”

You laughed at that in spite of yourself, taking a step back. “Tim, I’m really sorry about -”

“Don’t apologize.” He smiled again, reaching up to scratch his cheek. “Can I ask you something?”

“I… yeah. Sure.” Stepping closer, you dropped your arms to your sides. “What’s up?”

“You said you have a second job. I’m assuming that it’s during the day.” Nodding to confirm, you cocked your head to one side. “Do you … have a day off?” A day off? Is he…

“I do.” You were wary, the second part of Nicki’s note in the forefront of your mind. “But -”

“I’m going to be direct, alright?” He shifted on the bench seat, scooting closer to you and gesturing with one hand. “I would like to take you out to dinner. I noticed you don’t have a ring on your finger, so I don’t think you’re married. But if you’re seeing someone, just tell me, and we can forget I asked.”

“I’m not dating anyone.” Is he really saying this to me? “And I get my schedule for this place two weeks in advance.” You don’t even know him. You don’t know what he wants or if you can trust him or - “You said your schedule was all over the place and that’s why you can’t get here earlier in the day, so how -”

“I have every Tuesday off unless they really need me.” Tim wet his lips, his eyes still on you. “I came in last night because I wanted to talk to you, but you weren’t here. Does that mean you also have Tuesdays off?”

“From here, yeah.” Heart pounding, you opened your mouth to say something else, but Tim cut you off, his smile growing.

“Good. Will you let me take you to dinner next Tuesday? We can go early. You pick the place. I live in Willow Creek, so I can meet you just about anywhere.” Willow Creek? For real? Tim reached for his notebook and pen, flipping to a clean page and scribbling a number onto it before he tore it free, folding it over. “Here’s my number. Think about it. Let me know what you decide.”

He stood and you stepped back, the man reaching down to pull his jacket on. “Tim, I don’t usually… I don’t date customers. It gets -”

“Messy? Yeah. I wouldn’t ever date anyone I met through work either. I get it.” He swallowed, picking up his glasses and sliding them back on before he turned to look at you. “But I hope you make an exception for me, because I’d really like to talk to you for more than a couple minutes at a time while you’re bringing me coffee.”

You didn’t know what to say.

He was being more direct than you’d expected, and his declaration that he didn’t date people he met through work gave you pause. It means that even if he is working some sort of case, it has nothing to do with me. Unless… unless he’s trying to throw me off. “I’ll think about it.” Ducking your head, you closed your eyes and let out a short laugh. “I wasn’t expecting this at all.”

“I know.” He was packing the briefcase, the man’s back to you as he worked. “I wasn’t even sure I’d get the chance to say anything, but…” Turning to face you, he shrugged. “I wasn’t about to pass on it, even if you end up saying no.” The man wrinkled his nose, his grip on the handle of his briefcase tightening. “But if you do say no, I’m going to have to find another place to go when I can’t sleep, and I’m pretty sure Denny’s doesn’t have what I’m looking for even on a good day.”

He could have meant the pie. He could have meant the coffee or the quiet. But I don’t think that’s what he means. At all.

“I’ll let you know, Tim.” He held the folded paper out to you and when you took it, the man winked at you, his smile widening. “Get… get home safe, alright? It’s late and I’m sure there are assholes on the road.”

“I will.” He threw a couple bills on the table and then looked at you from over his shoulder again. “I always am.” The man said your name as he moved past you and toward the door, nodding twice. “Have a good rest of the night.”

He was gone before you could reply, and even though you knew that you probably looked like an idiot, you couldn’t help staring after him, your fingers tightening around the folded piece of lined paper in your hand.

You were going to call him - and you knew it… the only question was how long it would take you to actually pick up the phone.

—

Tag list reblog coming soon.

#tim rockford #tim rockford x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character #merge mansion fic #tim rockford x female reader #tim rockford: black days #black days masterlist #tim rockford masterlist #pedro pascal masterlist #detective tim rockford #masterlist #black days

322 notes · View notes