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iliketangerines · 3 months

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hii, i really like ur writings and i always binge reading your masterlist because they're just that good lol.

and do you still take requests? if you do, can you please do tomas who is a vampire and is soo obsessed over fem!reader?

Idk why, I've always associated tomas with gothic vibes (he just gives me vampire/dracula vibes). so, i can imagine him living on a castle alone as a vampire until one day when he was wandering around he suddenly finds reader who is lost and kidnaps her and put her on a cell? (im sorry if this sounds really weird lol). oh and please make tomas dominant because honestly dom!tomas is soo underrated 😔

im sorry if this doesn't make sense lol and it's okay if you don't want to do it! thanks beforehand :)

the castle in the woods

a/n: this is...also going to have to be a part 2...originally gonna be nice and short and then...um...got a bit carried away. also, i do NOT condone this behavior in real life

pairing: vampire!tomas vrbada x gn!reader

warnings: nonconseual blood drinking :)

you shiver as the rain soaks your clothing and sends chills down to your very bone, and the tree leaves do nothing but make the raindrops fat and wet as they fall onto you

clutching your basket closer to your body, you move forward in the stormy weather, trying to find a semblance of shelter in this godforsaken forest

all you wanted was to pick a nice bouquet of flowers for your mother’s birthday, and you friend had suggested a meadow deep in the woods straight ahead

your friend was right, and you had gotten straight to picking the flowers and then had lost track of time as you fell asleep, only waking up to complete darkness and the first few drops of rain on your cheek

then, in the dark of the night, you couldn’t find where you had entered the meadow and now you were utterly and completely lost, about to catch a sickness at this point

still, you have to find some sort of shelter or else you will die out here, the coldness already settling into your bones as the wind screams around you

crashing into another tree in the complete darkness of the night with no moon in the sky, you fall down to the ground and contemplate giving up

then, a flash of lightning that beams down from the sky, you can see the faint reflection of metal gates in front of you

immediately, you perk up and scramble to your feet, wiping your muddy hands on your soaked cloak, and you walk over to the metal gates as quick as you can

as you get closer you realize just how tall the gates are, towering over you as you push at the gates, and they creak open under the weight of your push

you follow along the path, only guided by occasional flash of lightning, and you can see a castle in the distance, dark and gloomy and looking much older than you or your village

something inside you screams danger, and you can feel pinpricks crawling up your spine as you freeze in your tracks as you continue to stare at the castle

thunder laughs in the sky above, dark and angry, and the rain pours down harder

without any choice, you walk briskly to the castle and arrive there in a few short minutes strangely enough, it looked like a much more hefty walk, one meant to be traveled by horses

it didn’t matter, you used the knocker to pound on the entrance of the door, and it’s only a few seconds when the door opens and the face of a pale man with gray hair reveals himself

you shiver and shake and ask if you can come inside and warm up, just until the rain passes and then you’ll take your leave

the man blinks slow at you, nose wrinkling slightly, and he opens the door further to let you inside, gesturing for you to come in

you thank him profusely, shivering and tracking water into the castle, and he closes the door behind you, the clicks and clanks echoing in the empty and vast entry way

it’s dark and cold in here as well, drier than the outside, but somehow you feel colder in here than in the swirling storm outside

the man walks up next to you and asks you to follow him to the living room, and he pauses before saying that his name is Tomas

you nod and through chattering teeth, you introduce yourself and thank him once more as water droplets fall from your body and onto the marble floors

the entire castle is dark but is certainly kept well with how the marble shines beneath your feet and how the statues gleam in the flashes of lightning through the arching windows

yet, there’s not a single maid or butler in sight, just this strange tall man who carries himself much older than he looks

he reaches a dark room, dust free and rather clean and regal and holds his hand out, and he walks into the darkness, the sound of rocks clacking against each other

but then the fire roars to life, and the room is bathed in a warm light, seemingly the only light in this dark castle

the floor is a deep red lush carpet and by the wall, books are stacked neatly and precisely on the bookshelf that extends to the ceiling

a large wooden desk with a rather fancy looking chair sits near the edge of the room, and you toe off your shoes before stepping into the room as to not dirty the lush carpet with mud

by the warm fire, there’s a set of couches and a table for snacks and drinks, much more expensive than your entire cottage house if you had to guess

Tomas looks to you and gestures you over, and you can see clearly that he’s dressed in sleep wear and slippers, looking rather tired for his age

you walk over and untie your cloak and set it near the fire flat on the ground and apologize quietly for interrupting his sleep

he waves you off and says that he is okay and that he does not feel tired, and he eyes you up and down and says he will be right back with some dry clothes for you

before you can even protest, he’s disappeared, leaving you alone in the firelit room to warm and dry your clothes

you strip off the outermost layer of your clothes and set them by the fire, looking around the room for something to hang the clothing on, but you find none

as you put your hands near the fire, turning them front to back to warm them, you can feel exhaustion start to replace the cold feeling in your body, the adrenaline sputtering out as you sit in front of the fire

putting your hands in your face and squishing it, you wake yourself up and stand up, looking to the bookshelf to your right, and you walk on over and browse the titles

you needed to stay awake, just long enough for the storm to pass or for the man to come back, and you pick out a book that has a nice title

flipping to the first page, you start to read, trying to keep your attention on the book as the fire warms and dries the clothes sitting on your body

the sound of footsteps padding along the carpet tears your attention from the book as you look up to Tomas holding up a set of clean and dry clothing

he hands them to you, raising his eyebrows at the book you were reading, and he asks if you’ve read the book before

you laugh and say no but that you wish you had, the book really is riveting, the small library back at home doesn’t even compare to the quality of the books here

the man laughs and says with an amused smile that you should see the actual library in the castle then, and you gape at him, asking that he had more

he nods but insists on you changing first, or else you’ll catch a cold and a shiver runs down your body again as your wet clothing still sticks to your clothing

taking clothing from his hands, he slightly bows his head and then leaves the room for you to change, and you do so quickly

rubbing at the material between your fingertips, it feels much nicer than anything you’ve ever owned, even your nicest gown, and it’s smooth and thin but completely engulfs you

you pull off your underwear, soaked down to every fiber, and place it near the fire, hopefully inconspicuous enough that he didn’t notice you weren’t wearing underwear

pulling the pants of its neat folded state, they’re much too baggy for you to wear, falling down to your ankles even when you tie the drawstrings

you forgo them, the shirt was baggy enough anyway to cover you to halfway down your thighs, and you spread the rest of your clothes by the fire

Tomas calls from outside the room to ask if he can come in, and you say that he can as you stand up carefully and make sure the shirt covered everything indecent

he steps in and blinks, hands clenching onto the tray of tea in his hands, and you thank him again for giving you shelter and dry clothes, bowing as you do so

waving you off, he says it’s no problem and takes a seat on the lush couch across from you, and he asks you what your thoughts are on the book

his large hands comes up to pour a cup of dark tea, darker than any that you’ve seen before, and he slides it over to where you’ve sitten down

you take the cup gratefully, letting it warm your hands further as you take a sip, and you let the flavor sit on your tongue, unsure of exactly what Tomas had put into the tea

he takes his own sip of the tea, placing a sugar cube into his cup, and you ask what kind of tea this is

it’s red tea from china, dark and red and delicious, he explains and you nod and take another sip, letting the rich taste settle into your stomach and warm you

Tomas repeats his question from before, and you perk up and pick the book up, saying that you’ve only gotten a few chapters in but it’s quite a fun read

he laughs and tells you to read the book and tell him your thoughts as you read, he hasn’t someone to read with in ages, and you quirk an eyebrow at him, asking why he doesn’t have one of his maids or butlers read with him them

looking to the side, he says that he has none, he takes care of the castle and grounds by himself, but he doesn’t mind it at all, it takes up the time

you press your lips together and nod, how strange that he took care of the whole castle by himself, even in the distance you could tell how vast the building was and the grounds were expansive

he looks to you and flicks his eyes back down to the book, resting in your hands, and you take another sip of your tea and open the book up to read

it’s not like you had any reading buddies back in your own village either, and the thought of having someone to express opinions about a book you both have read excited you

going through the book, you read quietly and listen to the crackle of the flames, adjusting your position on the couch so that you back rested on the armrest and your legs spread along the cushions

thankfully, the shirt was still baggy enough to hide everything, and Tomas sipped on the rest of his tea before standing up and going to pick out his own book to read

the both of you read in silence, and you let the words of the book envelop around you and bring you into their world

the rain continues to pound against the window as the both of you read and every so often you gasp, and he asks what’s happened in the book

it’s a comfortable routine, and you read about the romance of the two characters in the book, talking to each other and arguing about something

very quickly, the book devolves into something much more raunchier, and your face burns as you close the book to take a second to process what you just read

Tomas asks if everything was okay, and you nod and cross your legs, saying that everything was okay, the book had just made a sudden turn

he tilts his head and asks how, and you turn your head to look at him, finding his eyes trailing up the length of your legs before landing on your face once more

you shift in your seat to sit properly again, feet landing on the soft carpet, and you say that you just hadn’t expected the book to delve into more…sexual topics

smiling at you, he just tilts his head, unblinking as he continues to stare at you, eyes flicking downwards, and you cross your arms over your chest, suddenly cold and uncomfortable in the heat of his stare

he seems to notice your discomfort and says that you could skip a few pages ahead, but you would be missing important plot information if you did that

the story had sucked you in unexpectedly, and you did want to know how the story ended

opening the book back in and leaning back into the couch, you start to read where you had left off, trying to not seem so tense as you read about the two characters

you can’t help as you feel arousal pool in your gut, and you cross your legs tightly to try and get rid of some of the tension as you continue to read

your face seems to burn hotter than the fire you sit next to, and you press your lips together as you finally reach the end of the story

there’s a whoosh of air, and you flinch as you find Tomas standing in front of you, leaning over your body and asking if you liked the scene

there’s a sense of dread settling in your bones, and a sense of danger that screams and coils in your gut as he leans in closer, smiling at you

in the gleam of the lightning, you can see his canines glint, long and pointed and how his eyes are a dark red instead of a brown like you had thought

you had walked into a vampire’s home and conversed with a vampire and drank tea with a vampire and now the vampire stood in front of you, smile growing wider as he realizes that you’ve found him out

he laughs, hand planting by your side, and he licks his lips as you tremble in your seat, frozen to your spot as his other hand comes up to grip onto your chin

tilting your chin up, he says that he can hear your heartbeat, can smell the sweet blood running through your veins, can nearly taste your arousal on his tongue

you’re the first human to come to this castle in decades, and he had been so bored, unable to leave the estate, taking care of the same places over and over again

with inhuman strength and speed, everything had just become so easy and boring, but you had walked right into his home, sweet and innocent as a lamb

he thinks he’ll be keeping for a while, his little pet and treat, and before you can even blink he’s moved you, slammed you onto the couch, one thigh in between your legs

the sudden movement makes your head spin, and your hands finally move, scrabbling to hit and scratch him

his hand easily catches yours and pins them above your head, and you squirm and whimper for him to please let you go as he just laughs in your face

he leans in close to your neck, pressing his nose against the flesh, and he breathes in your scent with a deep breath, letting out a contented sigh at the smell

looking back up at you, he says that you’re his now, as long as you’re on his property, you are his and he will play with you as he sees fit

you can’t help it as you start to sob, the weight of the situation settling in as you realize that you will never be able to escape him and that you had become his the second you had saw him

he coos at you, telling you that he won’t hurt you, or at the very least not too much, and that you’ll be well-taken care of

his castle holds everything, gardens with crops, farm animals in the stables outside, fresh water from the wells, a kitchen for cooking all the food, and if you want something, he can get it for you with no problem

you cry out that you want to go home, and Tomas grins at you, saying that you are home now

leaning his head down, his tongue drags along the length of your neck, and he hums at the taste as you whimper and shut your eyes at the feeling

Tomas laughs against your skin as he continues to lick about the length, leaving sloppy open-mouthed kisses

this time you can’t stop the whimper that leaves your mouth, and he sighs at the sound, mumbling against your skin to stop fighting, that you were going to stay here forever with him and that you would grow more comfortable with the fact if you just stopped struggling

his teeth press against the pulse in your neck, and your breath catches as you start to squirm again, trying to get away from him

he doesn’t care about your struggle and simply presses his weight further into your body, stilling you just long enough for his teeth to break the surface and drink in your blood

you whimper and cry pitifully as he drinks from you, and blood seeps out of his mouth and down your neck slowly

his hands clench tighter onto your wrists as he moans at the taste of your blood, eyes fluttering shut, and it sounds lewd as he continues to drink from you

the sound is wet and loud as he sucks in blood from your neck, drinking and drinking and drinking, and you can feel your head becoming light and see the world start to spin about you

finally he brings his face away from your neck, licking at the last little droplets dripping down his lips, and you can make out through your hazy vision the droplets of blood that have fallen down to his chin

his eyes seem brighter now, red as your blood as you stare at him, and his lips are a deep shade of red as his tongue darts out to wet his lips

you can see how his face has more color in it, how his skin seems to glow and how a flush grows on his cheeks as he continues to stare down at you

he lets go of you, and you leave your wrists above you, body too exhausted to even think about moving and trying to fight against a vampire

he rips at his own sleep shirt, pressing the cloth against your neck to stop the bleeding

your eyes are drooping close and your body feels so heavy as he brings one of your hands down to press against the cloth at your neck

as your eyes finally close, too heavy to stay open, you can feel him kiss your forehead in the haze of sleepiness filling your senses

you wake up to high ceilings and a dark room, only lit by the torch in the corner of the room, and under the comfort of cool dark silk sheets

struggling to sit up, you fight through the dizziness and to observe your surroundings, pulling the covers off of your body and swinging your legs over the edge of the bed

your legs give out from under you immediately, and you fall to the floor, barely catching yourself with your arms as your head violently pounds at your head

there’s a whoosh of air, and you feel strong arms pick you up to deposit you back onto the bed, mumbling that you shouldn’t be up and about so soon

it’s the vampire, Tomas, and you weakly squirm in his arms to try and get away

he sighs at your weak form of protest and simply places you gently onto the bed and pulls the cover back over you, bowing his head slowly and apologizing

it catches you off-guard as he turns his head to the side and awkwardly coughs before continuing, saying that he shouldn’t have taken so much blood

that was what made him apologize, not the fact that he had taken your blood unwillingly, your voice is shrill and much more higher-pitched as you berate him

Tomas says that he’s been starving for years, that no man ever comes by the palace and that he could only drink the blood of the animals he raised in the farm

he was just so desperate for a taste and couldn’t control himself and that perhaps he had gotten a bit carried away with his actions and in words at the prospect of having fresh human blood

licking his lips for just a second, he pauses and says that he doesn’t have to feed for a week now at the very least but that you truly couldn’t leave the grounds anymore and for that, he was sorry

you narrow your eyes at him and ask him what he means by that, and he rubs the back of his neck as he stares at the ground, saying that first you needed to replenish your blood

and that second, he presses his lips together and points at his neck at his own bite marks, and your hand flies up to touch your own neck

there sits two puncture holes that you know his fangs would fit into perfectly, and your mouth gapes open

you would never be able to return, your village was superstitious enough and returning with puncture wounds would seal your death

picking up the closest item next to you, you weakly throw the pillow at him, and it gently poofs at his face before falling onto the floor at his feet

Tomas sighs and picks the pillow up, brushing nonexistent dust off of it and placing it back on the bed next to you, and he says that it really isn’t all that bad

he hadn’t turned you into one of his spawn, so you would still be able to traverse in the sunlight and take walks out in the warmth of the light, explaining as he sits on the edge of the bed

pressing his lips together, the vampire apologizes, saying that he had gotten a bit too excited when you had come up to his castle, willingly, and had been so…unassuming

it had been so long since he had fresh human blood to invigorate him, he shouldn’t have drinken from you, and now you were stuck with him until you died

the reminder of your position makes you hang your head low and tears well in your eyes as you hands grip on tighter to the sheets

he gives you a mournful look and stands up from the edge of the bed and says he’ll give you some time to process everything and when you’re ready to find him

as he leaves, he pauses by the door and says that if you need anything, just ring the bell by the door and he’ll get you whatever you desire

and with that, the door closes behind you, and you’re left alone with your thoughts and your tears

#tangerine writes #mortal kombat #mk #mortal kombat 1 #mk1 #mk1 2023 #mortal kombat x reader #mk x reader #mk x you #mk x y/n #tomas vrbada x reader #tomas vrbada x you #tomas vrbada x y/n #smoke x reader #smoke x you #smoke x y/n

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wat-the-cur · 3 months

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(I wrote most of this when I was tired and in pain and it shows. This is so much babbling nonsense it’s untrue. I don’t even think I properly adhered to the “based on vibes” system I intended to follow. But I’m still posting it, because silly and fun.)

Been feeling like utter crud for the past three days, so I’m about to distract myself with Jay ratings. I’m rating the Jays based on vibes. No introspection, just waffle. Enjoy!

Clerks Jay - Listen. The GENDER. Not enough is said on the gender envy factor of Clerks Era Jay. The baseball cap we sadly never see again, the hair up to show off the buzzed sides, the little necklace, the huge earring. He doesn’t feel like he’s wearing a costume, either. Throughout the film clothes come off, go back on, hair goes up and down and moves through various stages of dishevelled, as he fucks around outside the Quickstop all day. It’s one of those details that make him feel more real. This is the Jay who’s probably most like someone you’ve known, for better, or worse. For as minor as his role in the film is, as well, he has some depth to him that get’s sadly overlooked. Boy steps up to defend Veronica before anyone else, even though his conversation with Dante is overshadowed by Silent Bob’s one iconic line. Degenerate with a heart of gold, and one of my top Jays. (9/10)

Mallrats Jay - Brother vibes. Mallrats Jay is pure brother vibes. He is both your little brother and your big brother, and he is not as cool as he thinks he is, either way. His breath smells like stale Monster (that you had to buy for him), and he has never washed his arse correctly in his life. Would flip you off your chair and break your elbow for a handful of fries, but he would also beat up your bullies for you (with help from Silent Bob, of course). Also very gender, but not in the same way as Clerks Jay. Mallgender, great silhouette. Somehow much cuddlier. I would cuddle him. (7/10)

Chasing Amy Jay - Moody. The moodiest bitch. Beam me up, Stroppy. This is Jay in such a foul fucking mood, it almost stops him being funny. Almost. Apparently, anger makes him fluffier, too. He’s strangely fluffy when he appears. Yet another example of Jay giving the same opinions as Silent Bob, just in a crasser way, and so getting overlooked. And speaking of Bob, points for the subtle callback to Jay’s previously established repressed bisexuality and his crush on Silent Bob, via jealousy towards ex-girlfriend. (6/10)

Chasing Dogma Jay - “Ew” is, perhaps, a strong word, but.....hhhuuuuggggmmmnng 😬. Sincerely, certified worst Jay. Kevin Smith took Jay’s sex pest tendencies and jacked them up to eleven, here. I’m not trying to clutch pearls, it’s just not funny. It’s long been established that Jay frequently has women tell him to fuck off, even pepper spray him for being pushy and annoying. And he is both of these things. However, in the movies we never see him forcibly grab women, or threaten them with violence. This Jay does both, and it honestly feels like a huge departure for the Jay we’ve seen previously. Both Clerks Jay and Mallrats Jay were shown to have female friends. I struggle to imagine this Jay having any, because feels genuinely unsafe to be around. And while it’s not out of character for him to expect sex as a reward for heroism, the implication that he wouldn’t have saved Bethany if Bob hadn’t gone for it first does feel out of character. #NotMyJay. The only saving grace of this Jay is his few cute moments with Bob, as well as almost coming out to him during a tirade. (4/10)

Dogma Jay - Now this. This is some good Jay right here. This is about the last we see of moody bitch Jay, established in the previous two iterations. But, in spite of that, he is not without his sweet side. Boy couldn’t care less about the world ending, but you refuse his “girlfriend’s” request and make her sad? You get your expensive shit stolen. That’ll teach you. This is the film that really pumped out the ship fuel for JayBob and you can see why. I’m convinced the main reason Jay is one of the prophets is that he is Bob’s emotional support jackass, that is his primary role. Looking and acting every inch the repressed bisexual he is CONFIRMED to be. But honestly, this look? Best Jay look since Clerks. Ear, nose and tongue pierced. Got his catchphrase on his beanie. Look at that cosy outfit, our boy is so warm. Chasing Dogma explained that these are not, in fact, Jay’s clothes, hence why they don’t fit. But he looks so damn snuggly in that huge jacket, and the red/black/grey combo looks so good on him. (8/10)

Clerks: The Animated Series Jay - Everyone shut up and look at him! Look at his cheeky little face. He’s just a little guy. Just a little prankster. He does a gay little walk that pisses you off. Bless this little man, I love him so much. (10/10)

Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back Jay - To fit the lighter tone of the film, Jay goes back to something closer to his Mallrats appearance. Manchild, rather than manteenager. School boy with a crush. He even gets addressed as “Little Kid” by different characters throughout the film, like it’s acknowledging this. This film has a lot of fans divided, but even if you’re not a fan of the View Askewniverse, or Jay and Silent Bob as a duo, I think it would be hard to hate this Jay. There is something very innocent and genuine about him. We see what is alluded to in Clerks, that Jay really just wants a kind, sweet partner. Also, this is possibly Jay’s best known outfit, either due to the popularity of the film, or just how bright it is. Honestly, I like it. Especially the Berserker shirt, he’s still supporting Olaf! (8/10)

Clerks II Jay - My wife. My cupcake. My actual fucking babygirl. I want to sit him on my lap and hand feed him his Mooby meal. I fucking love Clerks II Jay. He feels like if Clerks Jay got some character development. He’s still rowdy, still horny, still not too bright, but he’s getting softer. He’s getting more self aware. He’s on the cusp of something. This Jay probably wakes up in Silent Bob’s arms each morning, because he’s remembering to be grateful for the good things in his life (Because Silent Bob is such a good, friendly friend, thats completely and totally it). The little old ladies at church love him, they’re always tucking his hair behind his ears. There is something so fun and sweet about Jay and Bob carrying around that little pocket Bible, knowing they actually met God not too many years ago. I just love it, I really wish they had stuck with this. Also, the little flicks in this Jay’s hair, and his coat that can easily slip off the shoulder live in my head, rent free. (11/10)

Jay and Silent Bob Reboot/Clerks III Jay - Look, I know. I know that Reboot was cringe. I know that Smith and Mewes looked like old men struggling to do what used to come naturally. But Reboot touched my heart, okay. Look at this man. Look at this old, undiagnosed, moderately freshly out of the closet man. He finally passed the cusp he was on in Clerks II. Watch him attempt to protect and bond with his long lost daughter, whom he loved almost immediately. Watch him cry over all the years he missed out on raising her. He’s running a business with his not so heterosexual life mate. Probably believes they’ll have to elope to Fiji to make it official, or something. He pretends dealing is still illegal in the area for the nostalgia. He agrees to help Randal make his film, and happily distracts the hospital staff so an ill Dante can watch it. Why? Because the clerks are his friends now. He’s too old to bear grudges. He’s goofy, he’s happy, he’s peaceful. He drinks cocoa with his last joint of the night. And he gets pegged, that’s confirmed, too. I need more old, happy Jay. Also, back to the bright colours! (10/10)

#view askewniverse #jay and silent bob #jay/silent bob #jay derris #clerks #clerks 1994 #clerks ii #clerks 2 #clerks 3 #clerks iii #mallrats #chasing amy #chasing dogma #dogma #dogma 1999 #clerks: the animated series #jay and silent bob strike back #jay and silent bob reboot

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bronx-bomber87 · 8 months

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Happy Wednesday all :) Ahhhh the intro of Metro Tim. This man does thing to me just on patrol and on street clothes. But Metro Tim? it’s a different beast. I wanna say sorry for how feral he’ll make me in this one. But I won’t be sorry really lmao Also a fantastic Lucy/Tamara Ep. So let us start :)

5x14 Death Sentence

We start off with Tim pouring himself some coffee at Lucy’s. There’s so much to love already about this. He’s spent the night, Not only that but enough to know where the coffee is and how to make it, he’s made extra for her and they’re sharing a thermos. It’s the same thermos she brings to work we've seen. It's that same one she has in 4x02. It's a small call back and I adore it it's so much. I love continuity so I’m dying of happiness ha.

The married vibes in this scene make me squee. Lucy hasn't even entered the scene yet and it's already married af. I remember being so excited they'd reached the domestic phase. I love me some hot and heavy newlywed stuff. Don't get me wrong. But something so satisfying to see them move forward towards this stage. Literally so giddy over him making her coffee. That's a good man right there. Thinking of her when she wakes up.

As we know pranking is one of their love languages. Lucy has hidden booties in the cabinet for him. Looks like the same ones she used in 4x02 haha Another call back/parallel. Loving the call backs in this season. It's fantastic. They make the continuity geek in me very happy as I mentioned earlier. He is a boot for Metro and she has to note this. Unreal we're at this place. Getting cute domestic morning scenes. My heart.

Lucy is so bummed she didn’t get a photo of his reaction. We all know how much she loves getting shots of him. No doubt she has a folder on her phone of just pics of this man. I love her morning attire btw. I adore this woman's fashion sense. Tim tells her 'It’s cute.' With all the heart eyes he can. He can actually smile and appreciate it front of her this time. Unlike in 4x02 where he held it back. Gah it’s so cute I cannot. He is at the point where he is so very smitten with her teasing. He has been for awhile but he doesn't have to pretend he doesn't love it now.

Lucy asks why he’s up so early? Tim explaining he’s the new guy. Has to load up all the gear and ammo. Lucy so giddy and cute calling him a newbie. Beaming brightly at him. I love the cute way she says ‘The Boot.’ Her whole body being adorable af as she says this. Tim isn’t even agitated by this in the least.

Just affectionately tells her he’s still a Sergeant. This man is so so soft for her. Just look at him above. He is so damn smitten with her. They're both gaga for each other. Makes me so damn giddy. Just look at these two. Domestic and heart eyes for damn days. Lucy ever the proud wife as she teases him.

The look on Lucy’s face when she says he’s still a boot in her book. That woman is so very in love with the man standing before her. Makes me so happy I can’t even stand it. Giving me all the shippy butterflies as I watch them. Just as gone for him and he is for her. Looking up at him with so much adoration. Said this expression a few times in regards to Tim. But she looks at Tim like he hung the moon and stars. I love how much she loves him. Their almost morning kiss is interrupted by their pseudo daughter walking in the door. I do love her wanting to giving him a morning smooch.

Tim makes a joke saying must’ve been at one heck of a party if she’s just getting home now. Tim and Lucy looking like concerned parents. Tamara jokes with Tim cause that’s their thing. Saying ‘Yeah rager...' Asking if she interrupted something? Tim says no he was heading out can’t be late on his first day. The married vibes reach an all time high as Tim is leaving.

Lucy being wifey af telling him he’s gonna knock 'em dead. Building her man up before he leaves for the day. *heart damn clutch* She just pumped his tires right before he leaves. Look how happy he looks from her words of encouragement. He could power the room with his smile. He looks so damn happy leaving her place. I love him smiling at Tamara too before he goes. She’s their daughter we all know it.

Tim looking at his girl one last time before closing the door. *squee* It's doing things to me. It’s unreal we got this season still. I'm still in a state of shock even a year later ha. Look at these lovely humans in love. Makes my shipper heart so happy. Just a husband looking at his wife till he can’t anymore. That shot of him with heart eyes until he shuts the door is so cute. Doesn't break eye contact till the door is shut.

Her words of encouragement the best start to his day. I cannot. Once he is gone Lucy refocuses on Tamara. All happy and high off her morning with Tim saying 'Good morning' all chipper. Tamara pretending she's annoyed when really she's so happy for her. Look at that smile when she says 'Whatever.' Such a teenager but she is so happy for her mom.

Lucy and Aaron are talking about a prototype action figure his mom wants to make. He won’t do it even though it's couple million profit. Lucy cracks me up saying she will do it. Starts posing saying she can be ‘Lucy Chen, Fist of Justice.’ Never change Lucy never change. I love you so much baha Tim walking up seeing her being an absolute dork. Used to his wife’s antics at this point though. But has to ask what she’s doing?

Lucy not phased by his judgement in the least. Just says working on her side hustle. Tim gets self conscious when she points out the paint on his head. Nawww he’s embarrassed cause he struck out in training earlier. Let’s not bypass how incredible Tim looks in shot. Arms and forearms flexed carrying that box. *fans self* All kinds of deliciousness. My god how can a black t-shirt looks so delectable on a person? Straight arm porn and I'm not mad about it.

Those toned forearms and his biceps threatening to bust out of his sleeves. Phew lord. Think they made his shirt just a little tighter than most. So I can flail and have an ovary explosion. over it. Mmm. Love to climb that man like a tree. Metro Tim is just sex on two legs walking and I’m here for it hot damn.

Lucy is cutest little human in that first gif. Just popping her head in like the adorable bean she is. Taking stock of his new office. Then she makes a little joke smiling at him. Saying well at least it won’t take long to move in LOL I love her teasing him yet being so proud of him at the same time. It’s a heady cocktail everyone and I’m little ship drunk and loving it.

Her smile is everything as she is teasing him. Tim isn't giving her much to work with. I think it's cause Aaron is there HA He shuts the door behind her and works to get settled in his new office. Also think he's a little in his head about not doing well in training at first. Poor love.

After he shuts the door he expects them to go. Idk why. He knows his wife and her antics. Like she was just gonna go after that. LOL Lucy watching her man get settled like the proud wifey she is. Look at that woman watch him get situated. To quote Chandler bing. "Could she be any prouder of him?' She is so friggin excited for him. Her whole body is vibrating just watching him make it to his desk.

Let’s not discount this great shot of his ass in those cargo pants everyone. Sweet lord. Fairly certain I've never found them attractive till they were worn by Tim Bradford. But my god he looks good in them. Doing that thing where something is simple but he turns it into something incredibly sexy just by wearing it. It's sinful to be this attractive really.

Never be over how good his biceps look in that t-shirt too. Sweet baby James man is doing things to me… Tim turns around and realizes he's in a zoo LMAO I do adore her little smile when she gives him a thumbs up. Truly proud of him and getting to where he is now. I think if Aaron wasn’t present he would’ve been softer but he was LOL Lucy is also in teasing mode with the thumps up and such. Being such a troll with Aaron right now and they both know it.

Tim does a small smirk before shutting them out. Her face when he draws the shades is hysterical. Lucy is offended by him doing this. I’m dying. Their dynamic is the best. They go from sweet and domestic cuteness in the morning. Her building him up for the day. To teasing and giving each other a hard time. God I love them sfm. We get to have both now. *happy sigh* I just love this season everyone. Damn they cute.

We join our fav ladies eating dinner together. Lucy noting she’s been working a lot of hours. That she knows she wasn’t coming from a party this morning. It was a job. Asking her what’s going on? Does she need money or something? Tamara breaking Lucy’s heart a little with her answer. Basically saying she needs to save up for an apt on her own. Lucy looks so saddened for couple reasons. One. That she thinks she has to leave now. Just decided she wasn't gonna be welcome at some point.

Two her thinking Lucy has no room for her now that Tim is around. Like she was just going to replace her with TIm. I will say this she wasn’t saving up rent when Lucy was dating the clown… Tamara knows and has known since this started Tim was her end all be all. The real deal in terms of relationships for her. Lucy telling her she doesn’t have to leave. Breaks my heart Tamara thinks she has to leave though.

We all know Tim treats Tamara like family. The puppy jokes have long since faded away. If they we're gonna get a place of their own no doubt he would expect her to join them. Her thinking there is no room for her. UGH. I wanna hug her and it’s upsetting to Lucy as well. To Lucy, Tamara is family and there is no need to feel this way. Unfortunately not how trauma damaged brains work. Her first thought is there is no longer a place for her. Which once again makes me so sad. Before Lucy can say more hubby has arrived home.

We hear his keys in the lock before he comes in. First off let me squee that he has a KEY to her place. A KEY everyone. Also that they had this family movie night planned. Tim apologizing for being late to it. I keep seeing this funny tag when I look for gifs. Says *screaming into the void.* Lmao seems fairly accurate for moments such as this. Perfectly describing how I feel.

They had a pre-planned family movie night. I’m dying. Oh Tamara there is so a place for you with them. This scene right here proves that. Tim being all cute giving Tamara a hard time about not joining. He fully expected her to join them. He is such a dad in his reply to the movie he wants to watch with his girls.

I cannot get over Tim having a pre-planned movie night with them both. This is as domestic as it gets right here. It seems so damn natural already. What I always loved about S5 post 5x10. How natural everything felt with them. Going from friends to this wonderfulness. Never felt off or forced. It just fit and worked.

I cannot express enough this is why I’m glad the slow burn was the way it was. The journey that lead us here. To get us to this place where they just fit like puzzle pieces. Tim not reading the vibe in the room just pivots. Man is too damn happy to be noticing such things right now ha He looks at his girl with relaxed joy on his face. Not upset it’ll just be them for the movie.

Asking if she wants popcorn? The amount of squeeing for this moment is unlimited haha Saw a great tag for this scene. ‘How long have they been married again?’ hehe It’s so true. Domestic af and we’re all here for it. I love him basically living there at this point. Man has a key, eats and sleeps there. Has movie nights planned. God I just love this season so damn much.

We get to see Metro Tim in first op. Lucy is there getting to watch him in all his glory. Watch him lead, be confident, assertive and have a game plan. Commanding his unit with an assertive confidence that has me fanning myself. All of this in a new tactical outfit. Yummy. Gimme.

Wouldn’t blame Lucy if she took that man home after and just had her way with him. Because my god my blood is running hot just watching him in action. Sweet lord. Plus him defending Lopez when he tells his group she will be their spotter. Fiercely defending his decision and her. Making my mouth water Timothy.

Delicious poetry in motion as he leads his team into the rescue site. Also doesn’t hurt we’re getting amazing shots of him. Look at that sexy jawline with a dusting of stubble. Mmm. The way he’s holding that gun, his biceps stretching out the words ‘Metro police.’ I might pass out everyone haha God almighty someone shouldn’t be this attractive leading a mission and yet here we are. I’m a puddle snd may need some ice water....

This finale scene with Tamara’s and Lucy is one of my favs. Tamara getting off the phone with another job. Lucy asking her if she still thinks she has to move out? Tamara being vulnerable with her. (She has grown so much too btw) Telling Lucy she doesn’t want to be a burden. Gah breaking my heart girl. Lucy immediately disperses that train of thought. Telling her she isn’t.

Knowing this ties back to her PTSD before she met Lucy. Letting her know she gets it she does. That she’s been displaced her whole life. So she understands why that’s her default. It’s a hard habit to break when you’ve felt like a burden before. I totally relate to this. Lucy sincerely telling Tamara she’s family. I mean truly she is. She has been for a long time now. Lucy then lightening the vibe a little letting her know she couldn’t get rid of Lucy if she tried. LOL

Tamara thanking her and lightening the vibe herself. Saying she will get a place of her own someday though. She doesn’t want to be around when her and Tim start having babies LMAO God I love this girl. Her sass is the actual best. Also little foreshadowing at its finest. Now I know they’re gonna have babies. For sure they are. I’m not ready just yet on the show but I am down for babies at some point.

Loving Lucy saying that’s a long way off. Not scared or frightened by that idea in any way. It’s in her future no doubt about it. Only replying not yet and my head is exploding haha The rest of this scene is pure goodness. I adore their relationship sfm. I was so excited to see Dylan on set for S6 on insta. I will always always take more Lucy/Tamara. One of my favorite pairings on the show.

Lucy noting she is a really good babysitter. They could use her for all dem babies heh. Tamara being sassy once more. Saying she couldn’t afford her rate. You are an absolute queen madam. The cute smiles that end this scene make my heart happy. Especially Tamara's. How far she has come. Such a good episode for them. I adore these two so very much. Such a good ep. I remember feeling like every ep was a gift in this season. Especially 5x08 on up. They spoiled us to death and I wasn’t mad about it haha

~~~

Side notes-non Chenford

Lucy spending part of the episode trying to teach Aaron how to budget is hilarious. He wants to try and live off his own money and not his parent's. His bills were obnoxious LOL This scene above is the hysterical conclusion to him trying to live on a budget. Aaron you are a treasure my love. Lucy's reaction is so damn funny.

As always thank you to those that like, comment(oh how I love me some comments) and reblog these reviews. Means the world to me. See you all in 5x15 :)

79 notes · View notes

moni-logues · 1 year

Text

Kintsugi 8

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Genre: strangers-to-friends-to-lovers, non-idol!au, angst, smut, eventual fluff

Summary: In a fit of spiteful, post-break-up self-improvement, you sign up to a baking class. Yoongi, in a bid to appease his demanding girlfriend, signs up, too. Determined to make him your friend, you end up with more than you ever imagined.

Word count: 9.4k

Content: Yoongi POV!!, death (Yoongi's granddad), yet more talk about suicide

A/N: un-beta'd!! honestly wanted to call this 'Nostalgia' (based entirely on the Greek, nostos, return, algia, pain) but like, nostalgia is an actual English word now that doesn't really mean that so I couldn't, but them's the vibes!!!

Chapter Seven | Masterlist | Chapter Nine

Chapter Eight – Nostos

You liked Friday nights at Yoongi’s. For one thing, he was, by far and away, a better cook than you were and food always tasted better when you didn’t have to cook it. There was also the cat (though she did spend most of her time curled up on his bed, ignoring everyone and everything). Somewhere around third was Yoongi himself.

He cleared his throat and put his spoon down.

“I think I have to cancel dinners, by the way.”

“Oh-” you clutched your invisible pearls with a fake gasp and a mouth full of rice, “are you friend-breaking up with me?”

It was a joke as you said it, but as soon as you heard the words and paired them with Yoongi’s quietness—different from his usual kind—and the way he was fidgeting, you felt a prick of anxiety.

“I’m going back to Daegu.”

“Like, moving?”

You quickly swallowed your mouthful before all the food turned to ash. Yoongi couldn’t leave Seoul; he wouldn’t. Couldn’t. No-

He shook his head.

“My grandfather had a fall. My dad called. Said I should go back there.”

“Oh shit.”

He shrugged. You reached out and placed your hand over his; he looked at them, your hand and his, for a moment, then he shrugged again and shook his head.

“It’s alright. I haven’t been back for a while so it’s probably overdue anyway.”

“How long will you be there for?”

Yet another shrug.

“Not sure yet. Depends what happens to my grandfather, I suppose. My dad didn’t say much – never does – so I’m not entirely sure what I’ll be greeted with when I get down there but I’ll stay until he’s back on his feet. No idea how long that will be.”

You said nothing. You said nothing because you were not going to actually say any of the things that you were thinking; things like ‘do you have to go?’, ‘can’t you just stay?’, and ‘please don’t leave’. You knew he had to go; you knew that you wouldn’t really have wanted him to stay because who stays when their father calls and tells them that his father is in hospital and they need your help? No one good. You knew, also, that you could survive without him, that you didn’t need him to keep you afloat or anything like that. You just wanted him around. And that wasn’t enough to make you ask him to stay when he had to go.

“Well, I hope he’s ok,” you offered instead. “Do you have to take time off work?”

“No, I can work from home. For a while at least. I don’t know if they’ll put a time limit on it or just let me keep going.”

You didn’t like this. All this uncertainty, the indefiniteness of his absence. Some things take a long time to recover from; he could be gone for months. You shivered, even in the warmth of Yoongi’s apartment, with a stomach full of hot stew.

“What about Cherry?”

Yoongi was already eating again, the disquiet that had hung over him dispelled now that he’d spat it out, said the thing he had obviously been harbouring uncomfortably all evening.

“Oh, Namjoon’s going to look after her,” he answered. “She has an automatic feeder and water bowl, so she’ll mostly be taken care of anyway but he said he’ll come over and hang out with her.”

“Can I?”

“Can you what?”

“Can I come and hang out with Cherry, too?”

Yoongi looked surprised, then amused, and then he got that smile on his face that said he was going to indulge you in whatever stupid thing you were talking about now.

“Yeah, if you want. I can hardly stop you; you know the codes.”

“How many times do I have to tell you that you can change them?”

He rolled his eyes with a grin.

“Yeah but then I’d have to tell everyone else the new ones... It’s too much bother.”

“Hear that, Cherry?” you called to the bedroom. “You and I are going to be best fucking friends! Just you wait!”

“Are you threatening my cat?”

You threw a napkin at him.

You stared at your phone. Your still, silent phone.

“You know a watched pot never boils, princess. Your boyfriend isn’t going to call if you just stare at it.”

“He’s not my fucking boyfriend,” you snapped back, more viciously than you’d intended. “I thought you’d stopped making those jokes.”

Taehyung just shrugged.

“You seem very het up about not hearing from him, that’s all. You certainly never miss my contact that much.”

“As if I would ever go that long without your contact. I can barely get away from you.”

“As if you would have it any other way.”

You were crabby. Out of sorts. Yoongi wasn’t great at keeping in touch over the phone—not even at the best of times and this was certainly not that. You had exercised what you thought was extreme restraint, waiting until he had replied before texting him again (most of the time...), not wanting to bug him while he was with his family, going through something.

You weren’t one hundred percent sure what exactly it was they were going through because Yoongi’s updates were sparse on detail (like father, like son, apparently), but it was looking likely that you wouldn’t be seeing him again before the end of the year so it couldn’t have been good. It made you sad, that you wouldn’t see him over Christmas, that he had disappeared as the winter had arrived. Did the cold suit Yoongi? Did his cheeks get flushed and his nose turn pink? Did he like the cold weather? The dark and cosy nights?

You supposed that that was it. That was what was making you miss him all the more: the cosiness of winter is a lot less cosy when you are spending it by yourself. Taehyung was there, sure, but it wasn’t the same. Yoongi was yours. You and he had your own little club; you were dark and twisty. Now you had to be dark and twisty all on your own. And so did he, miles and miles away. You hoped he wasn’t getting too dark and twisty, that things weren’t getting capital-B Bad down there, that his family were supporting him.

You still didn’t know much about them, about his relationship with them. Yoongi played all his cards close to his chest, but these were on lockdown. You hadn’t known his grandparents were still alive. You weren’t sure exactly how many of them were. You hadn’t pushed him on it. It hadn't seemed to matter much before, though it certainly did now and you wished you had asked when you’d had the chance.

It was less than 200 miles—not far, not really. You could easily get there and back in a day. But it stretched out long in front of you, this distance. Maybe it was healthy. Or rather, maybe it was unhealthy, your attachment to him. Maybe this would do you good, do your friendship good. It was just a break. Not even really a break—he was still at the other end of a phone. You’d spent so much time and effort getting to a place where you felt self-sufficient, independent, capable; if you couldn’t be those things without holding Yoongi’s hand, were you those things at all?

You sighed and put your phone in your bag; it was easier not to think about it if it were out of sight. If only the same could be said of people.

It was weeks before you made your first visit to Yoongi’s almost empty apartment. Regardless of what you had said, it didn’t feel right to go there without him, to be in his space unsupervised. The thought of it made you miss him more, at first, but then he was away for longer and longer and you could no longer remember what his apartment smelt like. So you went.

You opened the door and shucked off your shoes and jumped half a mile in the air when you looked up to see a tall, dark, and handsome stranger, looking at you with confusion writ large across his face.

You laughed nervously, a relieved, breathy chuckle and you knew who it was immediately. You pointed at him.

“Namjoon?”

“Uh, yeah?” More confused than before. “You... are?”

“Oh!”

You introduced yourself, surprised that Yoongi hadn’t let him know you might be coming over (or maybe he just hadn’t believed that you would go). Namjoon responded to your name with a long, knowing ‘ah’.

“What is ‘ahhh’? What does ‘ahhh’ mean?”

Namjoon’s dimples made craters in his cheeks as he grinned widely.

“Nothing! Honestly, nothing; Yoongi has told me about you, obviously. Wasn’t expecting to see you.”

You didn’t believe him, but you did believe he meant well. He had a kind face, you thought, and he was looking after Yoongi’s cat on a potentially indefinite basis, so that gained him marks, too.

At the sound of voices, Cherry had skittered, yowling, towards you, stopping with a skid in front of you and meowing plaintively. You crouched down and held out a hand to you, but she merely continued meowing.

“Wow, she must like you; for me, she usually just disappears,” Namjoon said. “I think she hears people and thinks it might be Yoongi and she’s disappointed when it’s not. I think she misses him.”

You looked up at Namjoon, aghast.

“How can you just say that?! You’re going to break my whole, entire heart! Oh god, I’m going to cry!”

You really almost were. You turned back to Cherry, who was sitting looking sadly at you, and scratched her head lightly. Namjoon chuckled.

“Sorry.”

There was a pregnant pause.

“I guess you miss him, too, huh?”

“Well, yeah, of course. But I do accept that Cherry has the greater claim to grief.”

You stood and smoothed your trousers out with lightly sweaty palms. You didn’t usually feel this awkward around new people, but this was Yoongi’s person and you were in Yoongi’s place and he wasn’t there. You followed after Namjoon as he padded back into the living room, Cherry slinking softly behind. He offered you a drink and you hadn’t really intended to stay that long but it felt rude refusing. You made polite small talk and drank your drink quickly.

“Well,” you began, putting your empty glass on the coffee table. “I came to hang out with Cherry and she has spent the whole time lying on Yoongi’s bed, so I guess I might as well go.”

Namjoon chuckled and moved to stand in view of Yoongi’s bedroom.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Yoongi left some laundry and I’ve been switching it out for her, so she always has something that smells like him, but I’m a little worried I’ll run out at this rate.”

You stopped in your tracks.

“Namjoon! What did I say about making me cry?!”

You carried on until you, too, could see into his bedroom and there she was, curled up on a black T-shirt. Coming here was supposed to be comforting, a Yoongi booster, something to tide you over until he could come back, but now you missed him more than ever.

Namjoon flung an arm around your shoulder and pulled you off-balance.

“He’ll be back!”

You couldn’t help falling into his side, letting your head drop.

“Yeah, not soon enough.”

[09:27] You: Merry christmas, bambino!!!

[09:27] You: I hope you are able to have a nice day

[09:28] You: Remember to eat, drink, and BE MERRY!!!

[09:28] You: I miss you!!!

[10:48] Yoongi: Merry Christmas :) I hope you have a good day, too.

[21:20] Yoongi: I miss you, too

You were in the supermarket with your mum and sister; they had sent you to find potato starch but instead, you found yourself staring blindly at a wall of breakfast cereals. Your mind was elsewhere and when you first heard your name being called, you assumed it was your family, about to chastise you for not being able to get even one thing right. Upon turning around, however, you saw a different familiar face. Chanmi, whom you met in your cooking classes, who also took the baking classes just like you did. She was newly married and wanted to stop her mother-in-law despairing over her lack of skill in the kitchen. If that hadn’t worked, you thought, the promise of a grandchild certainly would.

“Hi!” she cried, stopping her trolley nexct to you. “How have you been?! It’s been so long!”

“Yeah, it really has! Nine months, by the looks of it?”

You laughed; she had barely been showing at the end of the classes and now, there was absolutely no hiding that she was very great with child.

“Ugh, I know, I’m huge! She was due on Christmas day, actually; thank god that didn’t happen. I would not have wanted to spend all of Christmas in labour.”

“Well, sure, but I’m not sure I’d want to spend all of any day in labour, to be honest. I don’t envy you.”

“I’m in denial,” she said with a wave of her hand. “I know it has to happen but I’m just not thinking about it. I’m hoping she will hold out until New Year’s Eve, that way, when all the fireworks go off, I can scream as much as I like and no one will hear me.”

You laughed again; you hadn’t kept in touch with anyone from the classes (except Yoongi) but it was nice to see her and nice to see that her life was working out, that she was happy, that things were going just as they were planned.

“Well, you look amazing,” you told her. “Pregnancy suits you.”

“That’s so sweet of you. But how are you? How are you and, I’m so sorry, I’ve forgotten his name, your boyfriend?”

“Uh, I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Oh no, you broke up? I’m so sorry!”

You were confused. You didn’t know who she could be talking about. It wasn’t San. Might she have meant Sungbin? Had you told her about that? You were frowning, trying to puzzle it out in your head and Chanmi spoke again.

“I’m sorry; have I put my foot in it? I meant the guy in the baking classes with you? Is t-”

“Yoongi?!” you exclaimed with more volume than was entirely necessary.

“Yes! Yoongi, that was his name!-”

“Oh my god, no, he is not my boyfriend!”

“No?”

“No! We met in the baking class!”

It was Chanmi’s turn to lose control of her volume.

“WHAT?” Her mouth gaped in disbelief. “You must be joking.”

You shook your head.

“You met in the baking classes? We all thought you were a couple!”

“‘We all’? All of you thought we were together? Why?”

“I don’t know, you just seemed so close. You had chemistry. Then there were the couple of times he didn’t show up and you seemed so upset, we assumed you must have had a fight or something. I don’t know; you just... looked like a couple. Sorry.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” you replied, distracted now. “I just had no idea we looked like that.”

She had blown your mind. You were sure you had told people when you started the classes that you had just been broken up with – you couldn’t shut up about it! You told anyone who would listen and some people who wouldn’t. She must have known. So how did Yoongi fit into that? Did she just forget?

You and Yoongi? Taehyung had been making the same comments, albeit as jokes, for as long as you had known Yoongi and you hadn’t taken a single one of them seriously. And yeah, ok, you did sleep together, but that was a one-time thing, an aberration. Did you really look like a couple? Seem like a couple? Behave like a couple?

The thought plagued you for the rest of the day and into the next day, too. Your friendship with Yoongi was special, yes. It was different from your friendship with Taehyung, or any of the friendships you’d had before, yes. But it was still a friendship, wasn’t it? Just a friendship. You played films in your head, imagining the two of you in baking class, what you might have looked like to others. You played them again and again, from different angles, trying to see through different eyes.

All of Taehyung’s jokes rattled around in your brain; he had just been being stupid and annoying. He wasn’t making a point. You didn’t think he was making a point anyway. He hadn’t been serious, at least. He didn’t actually think Yoongi should be your boyfriend. You were sure. You opened your phone and thought about texting him. Then you thought twice. You thought about texting Yoongi, almost as a test to prove that you were just friends. Then you thought twice because he had bigger issues to deal with. You scrolled your short list of contacts and found one that might help.

[13:45] You: Hey Taem! You remember Yoongi who I brought to Teddy’s Halloween party?

[13:49] Taem: sure, what about him?

[13:50] You: Did you think we were a couple?

[13:51] Taem: when I first saw you and you introduced me, yeah, I thought you might be. Why?

[13:51] You: do you think we COULD be a couple?

[13:53] Taem: why not? if that’s what you want

[13:57] You: no, I mean... did we seem like a couple? Like, do you think we like each other? If I’d said he was my boyfriend, would you have believed me?

[13:58] Taem: I don’t know, I mean.. Sure? I’d have believed you if you said he was your boyfriend, why wouldn’t I? What’s going on?

[14:02] You: nothing, sorry, it’s nothing.

[14:02] You: thank you

[14:09] You: I’m just confused I think

With Yoongi away, you decided the best thing for it was to just shove all of that into a bag and shove that bag to the very back of your mind. You were friends. That’s all. If that ever changed, well, then you could get the bag back out and have a look at it and see what you thought. If.

[00:00] You: HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

[00:00] You: STILL MISS YOU!!!! I HOPE YOU ARE HAING FUN!!

[00:01] You: HavE A DRINK OR LOTS N MEEE1!

[00:53] Yoongi: my grandfather died

[00:54] You: FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCckkkkkkkk

[04:51] You: are you ok? Shit, babe, I’m so sorry

[04:51] You: what a fucking terrible way to start the year

[04:53] Yoongi: yeah

[04:53] Yoongi: not exactly unexpected but not the best timing

[04:53] Yoongi: I guess it never is though

[04:54] You: 🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂

[04:55] You: let me know if I can do anything

[04:56] Yoongi: actually I would really like a hug

[04:56] You: 🏃🏃🏃 on my way

Your mother had always taught you not to make decisions after 9pm or on an empty stomach. You hadn’t eaten since 8pm the previous night, nor had you slept, so 5am technically counted as after 9pm. Nevertheless, you were making a decision.

You rolled into a taxi and stumbled into your apartment. You grabbed an overnight bag and threw in all the necessary items and then a random selection of clothing (whatever was closest and whatever was clean). The you taxi’d to the intercity bus station and got on the first bus to Daegu.

It was a three-hour ride and you slept through the whole thing, which was just as well because, if you’d been conscious, you might have had time to second-guess this decision, to think better of it, to think it through at all. The driver politely nudged you awake at the Daegu bus terminal and you blinked, bleary-eyed and hungover, dry-mouthed and dry-eyed. You shuffled off the bus with your bag over your shoulder and headed straight to A Twosome Place where you downed one coffee and then another and ate three pastries.

It didn’t feel right to just show up at Yoongi’s parents’ house in your present state (not to mention that you also had no idea where it was). You brushed your hair and your teeth in the terminal bathroom and washed your face, changed out of your New Year’s party outfit. There was then nothing else to do without getting in touch with Yoongi; you stood in the concourse, feeling a little foolish.

Yoongi sat heavily in the chair at his parents’ dining table and sighed. It was littered with documents: letters, insurance paperwork, hospital paperwork, bank statements, pension statements, certificates for home ownership, car ownership, some appliance manuals for god knew what reason. Somehow, it had become his job to sort through them. To sort through everything. To organise a funeral, as if he had even the faintest idea how to do that. He couldn’t blame his father- he wasn’t blaming anyone; he just didn’t know how it ended up at his door.

He rubbed his eyes and picked up a piece of paper; he didn’t expect any government offices to be open on new year’s day so he wasn’t entirely sure what he was supposed to be achieving, but he could try.

He dropped his head into his hands. It wasn’t as if he didn’t ever think about death, but it was different when it wasn’t his own, when it wasn’t hypothetical, when it was his own family falling apart around him because of it. He looked down at the bank statements in front of him, the pension claimed, the savings dwindling. It made him feel sick. It churned in his guts, this feeling like tar in his blood. He knew he hadn’t slept; he was overtired; he was emotional; it was a difficult time; but he also looked at all this paperwork and thought about how much better off his family would be if he were dead.

He could sort all this out beforehand, get everything in order. Then he could die and everything would come to his parents. They would be set. No need to wait on him sending money each month; no need to work; they’d be taken care of. His sister, too, of course he’d provide for her. But then that would be it. There would be no obligation, no guilt, no awkwardness between him and his family.

He took a deep breath. He had to take a break, but how, when he was the only person who would get this stuff done?

His phone vibrated on the table next to him and he almost ignored it, but then he saw your name on the notification and it was in his hand in an instant.

[11:02] You: I'm here

Yoongi rubbed his eyes. He looked back at previous messages and still didn’t understand what you were saying. He couldn’t believe you were here, as in, in Daegu. You were joking when you’d said you were on your way. He knew that, even though he hadn’t been joking when he said he wanted a hug. You must have meant that message for someone else.

He put his phone back on the table, content to leave your message unanswered, but then he thought that you might not notice you sent it to the wrong person. He should reply. He looked at the blinking cursor and his mind was blank. He should ask something like, ‘did you mean to send that to me?’ or tell you that ‘I think you meant to send this to someone else’, but he didn’t have it in him. He didn’t want to know what you were doing, who you were meeting. His cup already overflowed with misery, loneliness, a dash of despair; he couldn’t miss you. Rather, he couldn’t engage with the fact that he did.

There was guilt there, too. He knew he’d been a little quiet, a little distant with you. It was only half intentional. He didn’t want to know what he was missing, didn’t want to acknowledge his life back in Seoul; it made it so much harder to be here, amongst this, being thrown back in time only to find you no longer belonged—though part of him felt like he never did.

His absence was all around him: in this house he bought but had never visited, in this neighbourhood he had never lived in, these streets he had never driven down. Daegu was a different place now; his family home wasn’t his family home anymore because it had been falling down around them until he bought them a new one, this one, new and bigger with all the mod-cons they could have asked for. He was sleeping in the spare bedroom – a spare bedroom. When he had last lived in this city, there weren’t enough bedrooms to go around and now they had extras.

All Yoongi could see was the places where he should have fit in but didn’t. The world was so much bigger now than it had been but there still wasn’t a place for him here.

He kept you, the thought of you, like a secret, and then he let it eat at him at night, when he lay in the spare bed and couldn’t sleep. He looked at his phone, the screen lighting up his face in the dark, and waited for you to message. Occasionally you did. Mostly you didn’t. He knew that was his fault, too; he hadn’t replied so why would you? But he looked all the same; he felt sad and pathetic when he checked your instagram again, unable to decide if he wanted you to have posted or if he wanted you not to have; the twist in his guts was sharp and long-lasting.

Right at that moment, he knew you’d be better off without him, too. But first he at least had to text you back.

[11:14] Yoongi: what?

[11:14] You:

Yoongi couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He knew that view; he knew that building; he knew where that was but you weren’t serious. This was a weird joke; it had to be.

[11:17] Yoongi: you’re in Daegu?

[11:17] You: new year’s day special: one hug, same day delivery for the low price of Nothing, It’s Absolutely Free

With his phone in both hands, he knocked his forehead against it, his eyes squeezed shut against the sting of tears, his jaw clenched. His heart was hiccuping in his chest. So you had come. You had come to Daegu. Because he had said he wanted a hug. You had come almost 200 miles. To see him.

He took in a deep breath, the biggest lungful he could manage, and then he blew it sharply out again.

[11:25] Yoongi: I’ll come and pick you up. Give me twenty minutes or so

[11:25] You: no need!

[11:25] You: I can get a taxi!

[11:25] You: I just need your address

Yoongi didn’t reply. He didn’t read your messages because he was already putting his phone in his pocket and walking towards the door.

He took a moment, once he was sitting in his car, to take another deep breath. This felt complicated and confusing and he was overwhelmed. He wanted to sit in a dark, quiet room. He wanted to get in his car, pick you up, and just keep driving. All the way to the coast maybe.

Then he thought about the beach and that day and he changed his mind. To the north-east perhaps. The forested hills of the Taebaek mountains could hide you both for a while. That might be nice. Everything here felt like too much but the trees and the hills and the coastline, that he thought he could manage.

He sighed and turned on the ignition, pulling smoothly into the road on his way to you.

You tapped your phone nervously. Yoongi hadn’t responded at all. You couldn’t go anywhere without some kind of confirmation from him: that he was coming or that he wasn’t. Your messages were unread. There was nothing you could do but wait. Wait and feel a little bit sicker with every minute that passed; your nerves were starting to get the better of you. Your stomach sank lower and your heart fell with it. You should not have come, you saw that now. What Yoongi didn’t need right now was a house guest. What Yoongi didn’t need was someone else to consider, to take into account; what Yoongi didn’t need was you, once again, inserting yourself into his (someone else’s) business. Like you always did.

It wasn’t about you. It shouldn’t have been about you, but there you were, hungover and probably still stinking of booze, making Yoongi leave his grieving family to come and pick you up. Making it about you. You groaned and put your head in your hands, in half a mind to just get on the next bus back to Seoul.

And all that was not to mention the bag of feelings you had shoved to the back of your mind. You didn’t know what to expect when you saw Yoongi again. It felt mad to expect that anything would be different just because someone had confused the two of you for a couple; you didn’t know how that could have changed anything but you were scared that it had. Scared that this was a mistake and that you were going to make more, that you were going to ruin this, even without knowing how.

Your phone buzzed.

[11:57] Yoongi: I’m here. There’s a pick-up zone; I’m parked there.

The relief almost made you cry.

You jogged to the car park and spotted him immediately. You knocked on his window and made him get out of the car so you could hug him properly. Your chest felt tight and you closed your eyes, praying you wouldn’t cry, holding on to him as tightly as you possibly could. He held you just the same. Your heart swelled and broke at the same time. It was so good to be back with him and so bad for it to be in these circumstances.

“Are you ok?” you asked, your voice muffled in his scarf.

You felt him nod.

It was you who eventually pulled back and then an awkward silence fell between you.

“One hug!” you said. “Delivered as promised.”

“Yeah.” Yoongi attempted a chuckle and rubbed his neck. “I guess you can go back to Seoul now.”

“Oh, I- yeah, I mean, I can go back, if you want me to go back-”

“No. I mean, you don’t have to stay, if you don’t want.”

“Well I can stay, but I don’t want to be a nuisance-”

“You’re not.”

“Ok... Uh, so... I’ll stay then?”

Yoongi nodded and ducked back into the car.

You looked at him as he drove; he looked pale and tired and skinnier than he had been. He hadn’t been taking care of himself and you knew it was because he was too busy trying to take care of everyone else; that was who he was. But you were there now. You could be a care-taker, too. You might not have had the experience, but you wanted it. You were capable now. You didn’t have to be taken care of anymore, not like before, so it was time to pass it forward properly. That was your task here, that was all. This wasn’t about you, you repeated to yourself. Everything else can go back to the corner you shoved it in for now. It was so not the time.

Yoongi pulled up to a large house and parked on the road. There were three cars in the driveway. He took your bag and led you up to the door. He opened it silently and slipped off his shoes, not announcing his return or your arrival, but his mother called from somewhere else in the house.

“Yoongi! Where have you been?” Her voice was getting closer and she soon appeared in the hallway from a room to the left. “Oh, who’s this? Is this your girlfriend?”

Yoongi took a steeling breath.

“No, I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“You don’t? I thought she was a model?”

“No, we broke up months ago. I told you.”

“Oh, well who’s this?”

Yoongi introduced you and you put your best foot forward.

“It’s nice to meet you; I’m so sorry it’s under such circumstances. I’m sorry for your loss. I’m here to help in any way I can—put me to work!”

His mother was already distracted, looking to her right; you weren’t sure if she was listening.

“Could you put some tea on?” she asked, turning sharply to you.

Yoongi frowned and you could see him open his mouth, so you jumped in.

“Yeah of course! I’m sure Yoongi can help me find everything, right?”

You grabbed hold of his sleeve and gave it a light tug. He moved forward and led you to the kitchen.

It was expansive, with chrome fittings and granite worktops and a double-sink the size of your coffee table. It was bright and modern and so different from what you had expected. You realised that your expectations had been coloured by Yoongi’s childhood, that you were expecting them to still be poor, but of course, they weren’t. Yoongi had seen to that.

This was a beautiful house, with a large entry way and tiled floors and both a breakfast bar and a dining table. It was the sort of house you fantasised about growing up in as a kid. You wondered how Yoongi felt about it. All this comfort and convenience that he had bought his family. You hoped it made him proud, made him happy that he could do things like this for his family. He should be proud; this house was nothing short of a show-home. Nothing looked out of place, even now, with everything going on. There were no dishes in the sink, no plates or cups left on the sides, nothing lying around waiting to be put away.

Yoongi indicated which cupboards held what you needed and he filled the kettle. There wasn’t awkwardness between you anymore but there was something. He felt far away. You didn’t know how people dealt with grief, or even death—is it grief when it’s still so close?—and were lucky that you had never had to, but you felt ill-equipped now. Ill-equipped and self-conscious. Of course he wasn’t going to be alone; it wasn’t going to just be the two of you. That was obvious, but you had managed to forget it and you felt inhibited by the presence of his family, everywhere in this house, despite the almost clinical neatness of it. There was no Yoongi there. It wasn’t like his apartment at all.

You busied yourself with the tea and pushed him out of the way as he tried to do it for you.

“You don’t have to make tea, you know,” he said, quietly.

“I said I was here to help and if making tea helps, then I’ll make tea. It’s ok.”

The next few days were confusing and draining. You had put your foot down and insisted you would stay in a hotel, so as not to put them out; Yoongi had retaliated by putting his foot down and paying for a room in a far fancier hotel than any you would have picked. You tried to be of use, and if not of use, then at least out of the way. This meant you spent most of your time entertaining Yoongi’s niece and nephew; this was easier on the third day, when it snowed, and you made snow animals in the garden and pushed them on taboggans down the hill.

You didn’t see all that much of Yoongi; the only times you were alone was when he picked you up in the morning and dropped you back at night. You didn’t talk much—he didn’t. You, on the other hand, found that you couldn’t stop.

“Sorry, I can’t stop talking,” you said on Tuesday as he stopped at a traffic light. “I know I’m being annoying. I just can’t shut up; I feel like I haven’t spoken to you forever.”

“No, it's ok. I’m sorry I’m not talking more; I’m just tired.”

“As long as I’m not bothering you.”

“No. I like listening to you talk.”

“Ok, then. Good.”

The funeral took place on Friday; Yoongi explained that it might be more traditional than you were used to. You had never been to any funerals so you had no expectations anyway. You had been tasked with making all the food, for an undetermined number of guests that Yoongi couldn’t guess at and no one else would tell you. You cobbled together an outfit with things borrowed from his sister. You felt out of place. You didn’t feel like you had any right to be there when you went with them to his grandparents’ house, when you watched him and his dad and his uncles carry his grandfather’s coffin out of the grounds, when his father trod on the earth above his father, when his uncle spoke eloquently about what his life had been and meant.

You hadn’t expected to be moved. You had rather hoped that you wouldn’t be. You were there to be a pillar of strength and support but there was weeping all around you and sadness and grey skies full of snow and you sniffled quietly to yourself, letting your tears fall as gently as you could. A hand snuck into yours, ice-cold fingers pressing into your palm. You turned to look at Yoongi as he continued to stare straight ahead. You squeezed back.

When he cut the engine outside your hotel that night, he slumped in his seat with his head tipped back. He sighed.

“Why don’t you come up for a drink or something?” you offered.

You were exhausted, so you had no idea how he was hanging on. He was already shaking his head but you cut him off.

“Come on, just a quick one. You look done in, my love. You look like you could use one.”

He gave in with no further fight and drove around the back of the building to the car park.

You kicked off your shoes and Yoongi followed you in, sitting heavily down on the bed, staring at his shoes.

“Come on,” you said, pushing his jacket off his shoulders and loosening his tie. He let you do it, let you lift his arms to get them out of the sleeves, let you slip the tie from under the shirt collar. He watched you, thoughtless, as you knelt down in front of the mini bar and picked a little bottle of whiskey. You dumped it into a glass and handed it to him.

“Do you want ice? I can get ice,” you offered.

He shook his head and then tipped it back, downing the drink in one. He didn’t need ice. He needed at least six more of these so he could pass the fuck out. That scraped-out feeling rang in him, hollow, resounding, all his surfaces scratched and sticky with guilt and misery.

He leant his whole body backwards, flopping onto his back.

“You know I haven’t been back here since I left?”

“What, Daegu?”

“Mm.”

“Since you left at 18?”

“Yep.”

“Wow.”

“I know.”

“Not to see your sister’s kids?”

He closed his eyes. It brought a sour taste to his mouth, acidic and stringent and metallic.

“No,” he admitted. “I know. That makes me a horrible person.”

“No, it doesn’t. That’s a long time to be away, though.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you wish you’d come back earlier?”

“No.”

“I guess this isn’t the best time to come back, is it? Not a happy time. If you come back again later, it’ll be better.”

You joined him on the bed. You lay next to him and took his hand. It was warm. He could smell your perfume.

The sigh he heaved next could’ve rumbled the very earth. He knew you were giving him space, to breathe, to think, to gather his thoughts. You were a motor-mouth; that was the very first thing he had learnt about you. You talked all the time, but you always gave him time to think. You didn’t rush him or push him or even comment on his quietness, his hesitation.

He shook his head because he couldn’t think about you at this moment. He had just about managed to keep that door shut while you had been here because there was so much to do and so much to busy himself with, but now it was just the two of you and you were holding his hand and giving him space and he needed to fill it. With something.

With another sigh of resignation and an inhale to steel himself, he decided to say the other things he didn’t want to talk about.

“Coming back has reminded me why I left. I think the money was just an excuse; it gave me a legitimate reason to leave but I think I would have found a way out somehow. Any way. No matter what. Even in a body bag.”

“Babe...”

“We really had nothing, y’know? When I was growing up. We had nothing and I was so angry. I hated my parents so much because they couldn’t provide; they couldn’t be what parents were supposed to be. They didn’t do what parents were supposed to do. I was responsible for myself almost as soon as I started school. I was cooking dinner for the whole family every night before I was in high school. That’s not a kid’s role. Kids shouldn’t have to do that.

“On my drive down here, I felt it all again. The anger. The resentment. I had to pull over and stop for a while to calm down or else I’d have turned the car into oncoming traffic.”

He’d started so he had to finish but he needed another second. He wasn’t used to saying these things out loud. It made it easier that it was you. It made it harder that it was you.

“I suppose I'm a black sheep,” he said eventually. “I thought they would never forgive me for leaving, for doing what I wanted to do when they had no choices. I don’t know if they have. I’m not... I’m not really a part of it anymore and that’s my fault; I understand that I removed myself. I got away. I got out. I did what I wanted. Coming back here and facing that, facing them... I’ve been a coward. All this time I stayed away, it’s because I was scared to come back and see what they thought of me.”

“They love you.”

“No. I’m not sure they do.”

“Yoongi.”

You very rarely took that tone with him, the one that said you weren’t playing and he shouldn’t be either. He couldn’t even think of arguing with you at that moment. He changed the subject.

“Can I have another drink?” he asked.

You stood wordlessly and retrieved another little bottle, poured it again into his glass. He drank it in one as he had the first and you returned to his side. There was one thing he still really wanted to say, that was weighing heavily on his chest at that moment, but he knew you wouldn’t want to hear it, knew you would say he was wrong.

As he felt his eyelids droop and sleep begin to tug at him, he realised he had to get it out, before this moment passed and he wouldn’t be able to step into this territory again.

“I just really want to kill myself today.”

You turned on your side, curling into him, and pressed a kiss to his temple.

“I’m not going to let you,” you whispered.

“I know.”

Yoongi fell asleep quickly after that and you did not. You watched him sleep for a while, making sure he was still breathing, as if there were a chance he might just will himself dead. You, admittedly, didn’t know anything about his family but you couldn’t understand how he could suggest that they didn’t love him, that he was a black sheep, that he didn’t belong here. Their house, their cars, the things they had, the three jobs they didn’t have anymore... He hadn’t just given them things; he had given them freedom; he had given them security and stability. Not all people are good at showing gratitude or expressing themselves, but he had to know they were grateful. They had to be grateful, right?

The minutes ticked by and you were still watching him sleep. You resisted the urge to brush a strand of hair out of his face. You resisted the urge to trace his lips with your finger. You hadn’t had a chance to interrogate yourself, to notice what you were feeling until now. Now that he was asleep, his mouth just slightly ajar, his eyebrows pressed together, you could really look at him. You could really look inwards at yourself.

You didn’t want to ask yourself if you had overlooked him. You didn’t want to wonder what you might have been missing, not seeing, not noticing. It had been a tumultuous year and you were so proud of yourself for getting to where you were now; you didn’t want to find out you had still been getting something wrong.

Had you? Was it really wrong to think that you and Yoongi were just friends? What did he think?

It came back to you again, that thought. That thing that you had been trying to remind yourself of but also occasionally using as a weapon to beat yourself with: it’s not about you. All this time, it had been about you. You were recovering from a break-up, you were seeing someone, you were being broken-up with again, you you you you you. Where had Yoongi been in all this? Right by your side, of course, but where had he been in your consideration? He was recovering from a break-up, too. He had problems, too. He understood you and you had clung to that, sometimes for your very life. You felt your neediness begin to leak out your pores like oil, slick and staining and all over you. You could almost see it spill towards him, a contaminant, making you his problem, too, all your problems his, all your neediness his to carry.

You got off the bed and changed into your pyjamas; you washed your make-up off and brushed your teeth. You took your time so that you could be distracted and then you ran out of things to do. You looked at Yoongi, still passed out halfway down the bed, his shoes still on. You took them off for him; you undid his belt and pulled it through the loops; you considered him and wondered if you could pull him up the bed without waking him.

“What are you doing?” he mumbled, voice low and slurred with sleep as you grabbed him by the armpits and tried to pull him towards the head of the bed.

“Sorry! Sorry, I’m just trying to make you comfortable?”

You were standing over him, crouched on the pillow on his side of the bed, doing your best to let your weight do all the moving for you. Yoongi sat up and turned around to frown at you, his eyes narrow and the hair at the back of his head mussed. You moved out of the way and he shuffled himself backwards, lying back down with his head properly on the pillow. You settled next to him and he was still frowning at you.

“Sorry,” you repeated, an embarrassed giggle let slip.

Yoongi shrugged and turned on his side to face you.

“Is it ok if I stay here?” he asked, already closing his eyes again and getting comfortable.

“Duh.”

You woke earlier than usual and were unable to get back to sleep. What you did not want was more time alone with your thoughts. Definitely not time alone with your thoughts in bed next to Yoongi who was sleeping with a sweet pout on his face and giving you all kinds of confused feelings.

You picked up your phone and started looking at bus times back to Seoul. You didn’t know if Yoongi would be returning now, or soon, but it felt like the right time for you to leave. ‘Family emergenices’ only get you so much time off work and yours was running out. And you felt like you had to be in Seoul to think things through; that was where you life was; that was where your friendship with Yoongi was; you couldn’t make any conclusions away from home. It didn’t make sense.

Yoongi slept for a long time. You let him, because he had looked so tired and clearly needed the rest, but you were starting to feel claustrophobic in the room, claustrophobic in your determination to not think about things. You hated the thought of him waking up and thinking you’d left him, but you had to get out.

You scribbled a note, left it on your pillow and got the fuck out of there. The air was cold and fresh; even the wind, bitter and stinging, felt good. You took deep breaths and tried to follow the map on your phone to a café.

You reached it but it wasn’t open for another twenty minutes, which meant twenty more minutes in which you had nothing to do but think your thoughts. Desperate to get them out of you somehow, you did something you were almost certain you would regret.

[10:38] You: Teddy

[10:38] You: what if I have feelings for Yoongi?

[10:39] You: Do NOT call me

[10:39] You: I CANNOT talk about this

[10:39] You: I just,..

[10:39] You: I don’t know

[10:39] You: what if I do?

[10:45] Teddy 🐻: I don’t know what I can say if you don’t want to talk about it

[10:45] Teddy 🐻: but babygirl you are a catch and he’d be lucky to have you

[10:45] Teddy 🐻: don’t have a crisis rn. Come home and then you can have one, ok?

[10:45] Teddy 🐻: 😚😚😚

You sighed. You didn’t know what you were expecting him to say, or wanted him to say, but somehow, it wasn’t that.

You trudged back to the hotel with coffees in hand (one iced for Yoongi; one hot, but rapidly cooling, for you). Yoongi was half-pushed-up when you walked in, having been woken by the sound of the door. It made your stomach flip how small and cute he looked: still pouty, his face a little smushed from the pillow, his hair messy and on-end. He looked at you, trying to place himself, and then you saw his eyes flick to the coffee in your hand and alight there.

“Yes, I got one for you.”

He flipped onto his back with a satisfied groan and a long stretch.

“Thank you.”

You placed the cup onto the bedside table next to him and he took it immediately, pushing himself into a sitting position and leaning against the headboard. He took a long drink.

“This is good. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Um, do you need to let your family know where you are? Will they be worried?”

He shook his head, the quiet satisfaction slipping from it, a tight mask taking its place.

“No, they won’t. It’ll be fine.”

You didn’t want to argue with him. You changed the subject.

“How did you sleep?”

He nodded as he took another long draw of coffee through the straw.

“Good, actually.” Then he looked at his phone and grimaced. “Oh, late, too, haha.”

“I thought it would be better to let you sleep in, catch up a little. Should I have woken you?”

“No, no, it’s ok. The urgent work is done, I suppose.” He paused, still looking at his phone. “I guess this means I can leave?”

“I was planning to go back today, actually. I figured I’d get out of everyone’s hair-”

“You’re not in anyone’s hair.”

“Well, you know what I mean. I don’t want to overstay my welcome or make a nuisance of myself. I know I’m very good at inserting myself into other people’s business but even I have some sense of manners and propriety.”

There was a small pause as Yoongi continued to drink his coffee and stare straight ahead. Then he looked straight at you.

“I want you in my business. I like having you in my business.”

The nervous laugh that tried to bubble up from your throat got trapped there, and you choked, your cheeks flushing. You were the one who had to look away.

“Don’t encourage me, babe. You know I don’t need much!”

You forced your laugh, then, had to make it a joke. Yoongi’s sincerity was unpredictable and disarming at all times, but it was affecting you particularly strongly now.

“If you want to go, just let me know when and I’ll take you to the bus.”

You had opened your mouth to respond but he beat you to it.

“No, wait, you can come back with me. I’ll be driving anyway.”

“Today?”

He nodded.

“Are you sure? You don’t need to stay longer?”

He was resolute as he shook his head and drained the last of the coffee from his cup.

“That was quick.”

He grinned.

“Yeah, want to get another one? I have to go back to the house and clean up anyway, so we can stop on the way.”

“You go,” you answered. “I’ll pack and get sorted here. I’m sure you have stuff to sort out and want time to say your goodbyes and stuff.”

Yoongi shrugged and got out of bed.

He came back to pick you up later that afternoon. You were anxious at the prospect of three hours in the car with him; you were not skilled at keeping your thoughts and feelings to yourself, but he was the one person you really didn’t feel like you could talk to about this.

‘Hey, Yoongi, it’s possible that I’m discovering I have romantic feelings for you; what do you think about that?’

‘Hey, Yoongi, y’know how I said ages ago that I just wanted to be friends? What if I was wrong and I've actually changed my mind?’

‘Hey, Yoongi, quick question: do you think we should be together?’

Impossible.

“Are you ok?” he asked, somewhere around Chungju.

“Yeah, I’m fine! Are you ok?”

“Yeah. You’re just... quiet, that’s all.”

“Oh, no, uh, no I’m fine.”

“Sorry. I know it’s annoying to be told you’re being ‘quiet’; I get it all the time. Yeah, I am quiet sometimes, y’know? Leave me alone. But... You’re not quiet. Not usually.”

The weight of his words hit you because you knew what he meant, what he was referring to; you knew that you were at your quietest when you were at your worst. Or maybe that wasn’t what he was referring to, but it leapt into your mind all the same.

“I’m ok.”

You toyed with the idea of saying something, not the thing, but circling it, making the smallest inroads into that conversation. You thought about probing him about his family a little more, pushing him to say a bit more about it, to explain why he seemed to feel so bad about them. You wanted to know because you wanted to tell him he was wrong; you didn’t want him to feel excluded from his family, or unloved, or devalued, or unforgiven—even if it might possible be true. You would love, value, and forgive him enough for the lot of them.

“Do you think Cherry will be happy to see you?” you asked instead.

He smiled, a genuine, happy smile.

“She had better be.”

Chapter Seven | Masterlist | Chapter Nine tags: @chimmisbae, @idkjustlovingbts @miriamxsworld, @quarter-life-crisis2, @tarahardcore, @simp47koreancrackheads, @xyahrinx, @olyd, @diorh0seokie, @thelilbutifulthings

#yoongi x reader #yoongi angst #yoongi fic #bts x reader #bts angst #bts fic

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fizzingwizard · 7 months

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Why I like Cats (the musical) 2024 version

Cats the Musical's smash success in the 80s stunned everyone, including those who made it. But despite the critics claiming it's baffling and has no plot, it was popular anyway. And remained popular. For years.

"But why?" shriek the naysayers even now, decades later, in broad daylight, because they've never met a real Cats fan, and frankly don't believe they exist, and the massive audiences of yore which attended the shows in London, New York, Tokyo etc were paid actors contributing to the farce that is Cats the Musical. Or maybe they assume every furry dutifully attends every performance of Cats as some kind of furry confirmation ritual.

Now that we've seen the Hooperian nightmare that is Cats 2019, internationally recognized as a pre-pandemic harbinger of doom and torment, making fun of Cats is more fun than ever.

But no pedantic Youtube critic will ever pry Cats (THE MUSICAL) out of my fierce, feline clutches! No! I won't let you! Not even you, Tom Hooper! You don't need opposable thumbs to be irrationally devoted to old-ass musicals from the 80s!

Anyway here's why I like Cats (the musical)!

Wicked whimsical fun times!!

Cats is the fun uncle at the family New Year's party. He's young, he's confusingly hot-yet-not, he gets around, he always smells faintly of weed. He's down for anything and somehow gives off chill vibes while also exuding the barely restrained energy of an ostrich mating dance. He doesn't have a job. No one knows what he does on a regular, non-party day. Maybe he just... ceases to exist. You like him, without knowing or caring whether there's anything about him to like.

A celebration of dance!!

Tap, jazz modern ballet, gymnastics! There's even a trapeze! Cats has it all... as long as it was popular among white audiences in the 80s, anyway. Attempts to diversify have been hit and miss. But since many of the dance styles have fallen out of popularity, it's refreshing, in a way, to go to a Cats show and see a guy in an orange unitard tap dancing passionately. Like teleporting into a bygone age of the catpeople. Heck, even in the clusterfuck that was the 2019 movie, Skimbleshanks stole the show.

Jokes aside, the loose story structure isn't just because no one on staff knew how to plot anything, it highlights the performances themselves: dance and music are central to Cats, which is part of why making a film version is so damn hard. You can't just say no thanks to the choreography or interrupt the songs for dumb bratty quips (Hooper!!). That's what this musical is.

Yes, they are cats, and it's cool, not freaky. (But also freaky)

The costumes and makeup are for a stage show. They're overdone on purpose to have an impact from far away. It's due to that distance that the actors can seem pleasantly cat-like without appearing like they're doing this under hypnosis. That's another reason why translating Cats to a live action movie is kinda doomed to fail. With movies you're too up close. Welcome to the Uncanny Valley, hope you survive your stay!

The costumes are also very 80s. They have changed... but not all that much. If you know glam metal and punk rock then you probably cotton on to the references and why a lot of the old pictures look like a hair band's photo shoots. Young fans may not be aware of those roots and just accept the wigs and the color schemes and the setting as a whim. But the truth is undeniable. The 80s live on!

Much of the dance is choreographed to reflect feline, seemless movement. The actors spend their down time on stage mimicking relaxed cat behaviors, including the cute and clumsy ones that made Youtube rich. But they don't forget that they are actually humans any more than the audience does, or that getting too into it would be pretty weird. How well it works for you probably has a lot to do with whether or not you like Cats the musical. It's not supposed to be realistic or freaky. Just evocative and atmospheric.

Except the orgy. That simply Is. Sex through ballet. In unitards.

The stage!

The stage is a huge draw for seeing Cats live. There's so much detail and fun things to spot. It's a junkyard! Cats pop out of the strangest places! Honestly it's so impressive that it makes the way Old Deut magically reappears under a blanket rather more noticeably lackluster... (I did really enjoy the way the Broadway revival revamped that bit with the dark and the hand-held light dance)

You've seen it once, you've seen it twice, you still haven't seen it

The legend of Cats is that no two performances are the same. You can go to the same theater with the same cast night after night and spot subtle changes. Because the characters aren't that important overall, there aren't real relationships to interrupt by letting someone be friends with someone else in one show, and ignore each other in another. The most fun comes with watching the actors not currently center stage, who can do whatever they want. They're always moving, darting here and there, interacting with each other in an unobstrusive way. It's like a treasure hunt to work out whch cats are friends, which are rivals, who has a crush on who, heck, who's a grown cat and who's still a kitten, depending on the performance. I love this pliable approach, it gives the play a sense of living and changing.

Electric guitar!!!

Like, it's par for the course these days. Nothing unusual. Even so, I always lose my shit at that electric guitar!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

There IS a story!! There is!!

It's just not the most important part. Or even the second most important. Possibly not even the third most... yeah.

One thing worth noting is that the vibe of the musical has changed a lot of over the years. Most versions in the US and UK still retain some of the original grungy, gritty, patchwork aesthetic. A lot of it has been cleaned up and polished. The Japanese version (the only non-English version I've seen live) is almost like a Disney story imo. But thanks to the costumes, characters, and stage setting, it feels less like the 80s have gone than the 80s have been reinterpreted into modern preferences. I really enjoyed the 2016 Broadway revival for example, although I know some fans didn't.

All that to say the story which we fans have more or less pieced together ourselves has evolved over the years, and isn't super official. But it is regular. Hooper's movie doesn't get credit for giving Cats a plot, it already had one, just told in a not especially coherent way. That incoherence, despite being panned by everyone and especially their dog, I think is one of the best parts of Cats. You get to leave the show feeling like you missed nothing, then see it again and notice something new, and then leave feeling like you missed nothing. Rinse and repeat. The perfect show =)

Now about that plot.

The Jellicle Cats assemble once a year to have an orgy a ball. They're so happy to see each other and they just have so much to catch up, plus the kittens only opened their eyes like last week so they need a whole run-down of who all these older guys are. We meet the maternal cat, the storyteller cat, the railway cat, the twin thief cats, the excitable cat, the magical cat, the Jagger cat. They're all kind of sort of in competition to win a new life (cats have nine you know) by being chosen to go to the Heavyside Layer. Not that they compete - they all just want, vaguely, with a sort of existential soul-deep yearning for something too ineffable to define. This contrast of the transient with the permanent, the fleeting with the eternal, is introduced early in the show, when the cats tell us they have two names: a name they're called by on a daily basis, and a secret name that is wholly and uniquely their own. These themes continue throughout scenes of the actors grooming each other's fur and panting in bisexual lust due to sexy Tugger's sexy hip thrusts. It's deep bro. Gets me right here, bro.

Meanwhile there's an outcast called Macavity who is Bad, but most of the sightings of him are false alarms. He doesn't show up properly till near the end of the second act and there's a whole cat fight, it's awesome, I love picking out which cats stay to fight and which run away. He abducts Old Deut, the patriarch, and the only chance the cats have to get him back is Mister Mistoffelees, who depending on the performance is kind of clumsy and insecure, or really effing amazeballs at magic. I prefer the first because it makes more sense why Rum Tum Tugger sings his song for him (old versions have Mister Mistoffelees singing at least part of his song). Then Old Deut's back and now it's time for the Heavyside Layer!

Meanwhile meanwhile, there's Grizabella, who is haunting the Jellicle Ball with much more tangible yearning. She's washed up, a has-been. She can't dance anymore. No one trusts her. Why? Idk, people are just like that. The other cats fear Macavity, who represents destruction and chaos, but they look down on Grizabella, who is failure and regret and mortality. For whom all the broken dreams could be forgotten if she could join just one more dance. Defeating Macavity isn't the Jellicles ultimate test - accepting Grizabella is.

ETA: I feel like I didn't quite get across why this is so important. The show spends so much time building up our dread of Macavity, but sightings of Grizabella leave us feeling wrong-footed and uncomfortable. And the reason is: Macavity is destruction, but Grizabella is destroyed. A grizzled beauty - someone with no more life left in them. She's a vision of a grim future which the Jellicles want to reject. She's been made small and weak and pathetic. So they blame her for her situation, because then they can go on with their ball without all that discomfort. And they don't just decide to redeem her in the end - first, Grizabella has to sing "Memory." Grizabella needs to tell the Jellicles "There was a time before I experienced destruction too, when I didn't know how happy I was." The only thing which keeps that spark in her alive is the memory of it, and it's that which makes her the chosen candidate to go the Heavyside Layer. A threat like Macavity, while very scary, is mortal and temporary. But Grizabella's ability to look back on her life and find the happiness in it, and reach out to the others while on death's door, despite the risk of harsh rejection, speaks to something eternal. And the Jellicles have a choice whether they will show acceptance for that full course of life.

Then up she goes via the Stairway to Heaven and who knows what happens to her after that. Idgaf really, ask the Everlasting Cat. And then we sing a song about how great cats are because it's true. I mean come on. Shakespeare would write this.

Um wait up... plot holes???

Wait - why did Macavity kidnap Old Deut in the first place though? This is pretty unexplored backstory. Generally fans assume Macavity torments the Jellicles on the regular, and that he did something to Demeter in the past, which is why she's often depicted as the most skittish when he's mentioned. He's a bad egg - his song details enough - and also he's got his paws in the community, thanks to Griddlebone and Mungojerrie.

OK, so not knowing what his motivation is, as well as not knowing why Mungojerrie, who is fairly lovable despite being a thief, is involved with him, is kind of a big plot hole. It'd be nice to know that right? It'd be nice to know what happened to Grizabella - did she leave the Jellicles by choice, did she shun and reject them before she went off on her own? What did these characters do leading up to the events of the show?

This is what defines the True Cats Fan. The True Cats Fan not only doesn't know the official answers to these questions (there aren't any, shut up Hooper), but PREFERS them that way. Number one, it turns the show into a single evening suspended in time. We are voyeurs - guests come to witness the holy day of the catpeople. We are foreigners. We don't understand everything we see because we are not one of them. "What's a Jellicle Cat?" The cats are stunned that we don't know, but can't explain it to us in full either. A Jellicle Cat doesn't need it explain. They always know. So the story is what it is, you know what you know, and what you don't, well, it's not inconsequential, but it is for tomorrow. And tomorrow isn't today, that's the thing.

Number two is that the True Cats Fan doesn't want these questions answered because... we'd rather answer them ourselves!

LAST. The fan lore rocks!

Cats is just so much fun to fan girl in. Because the canon is so whatever, we can come up with our own ideas about backstory and relationships, and when we go to the next show, it's gleeful fun to see what elements of pure director's whim support our fan theories. If you're not interested in headcanons or fan theories you can leave now, here's your certificate, now you know what Cats fans love about the musical Cats. If you're a true freak, read on!

A lot of these are influenced by the 1998 DVD because that was the most accessible way to watch Cats (the musical). But the best ones have roots in any show canon, or extrapolate from like, a single lyric. Making sense of the nonsense without committing to getting rid of the nonsense, because we love nonsense. Also these DON'T all go together, they are independent headcanons, otherwise some of them would be really Not Good hahaha.

OK, so Old Deut is everyone'd dad. BUT, he's particularly dad of Munkustrap, Macavity, and Rum Tum Tugger. Sometimes in that order, sometimes not. This is hilarious to me. I love the idea that Munk and Tugger are brothers and that's why they drive each other batty. And who doesn't love a secret third brother who is als evil, or prodigal son who kidnaps his own father?

Demeter was Macavity's girlfriend before he got kicked out, or sometimes she went with him and came back once she realized he lost his marbles. She's been traumatized by him and that trauma is even choreographed or her. There's behind the scenes video, I think it's from the 1998 DVD, where they explain that, so it's rather more than a theory. She often has a role in the fight scene - an actual fighting role, rather than a cowering one. Now Demeter is Munkustrap's mate, which, if you accept the "Munkustrap/Tugger/Macavity are brothers" theory, makes for all kinds of juicy drama.

Victoria is Plato's girlfriend. Victoria is Mistoffelees's sister. Victoria is Mistoffelees's girlfriend. Victoria is Munkustrap's girlfriend??? Take your pick lol.

Victoria can't speak and/or is deaf and that's why she communicates through dancing.

Demeter and Bombalurina are sisters

Sillabub/Jemima is Munkustrap's daughter (ok...).

Munkustrap is the Jellicle leader of sorts. Old Deut is the real leader, but he's old y'know. And Munkustrap is kinda sorta his son. But Munk doesn't do a lot of leaderly things. He disciplines sometimes and controls the kittens, and he fights in the battle scene. But mostly he sings songs and tells stories. So there's a headcanon that Munk has reservations about being Old Deut's successor and wishes he could just tell stories all the time. So wholesome...

Rum Tum Tugger is a bi disaster and Mister Mistoffelees is his twink boyfriend. Gay cats, they're gay, it's theater, it's a show about cats with a cat orgy, did you really expect different? Now although I make fun I am into it. Tugger, brash and vain yet insecure, and Mistoffelees, insecure with inner pride. In some shows older cats like Skimbleshanks and Gus will be shown trying to lead Mistoffelees away from Rum Tum Tugger during his song, as if concerned by their promising, talented young friend's interest in the local Bad Boy. Mistoffelees's real talent humbles Tugger, and Tugger's audaciousness enables Mistoffelees to take risks. Thus the day is saved! Tugger and Mistoffelees weren't always a set on stage - it could be Mistoffelees and Munkustrap as the two leads, or why Tugger sings Mistoffelees's song would just go without explanation. But these days it's a popular enough duo that it's become fairly regular. And the 2016 actors put Tugger/Misto fan art on the wall in their dressing room therefore it is Canon.

Skimbleshanks and Jennyanydots are a couple, inspired by the way he teases her during the Gumbie Cat song

Skimbleshanks is a DILF

Grizabella was Old Deut's girlfriend x'D or is Macavity's mother or something. Personally I don't need this theory lol we've already got enough overlapping relationships to write twelve soap operas so.

Cats with collars are house cats, cats without are strays. Not super reliable but fun to think about.

Some cats aren't named, or have different names depending on the country or decade. These cats can have some really, really dedicated fans whose personal headcanons about these completely undeveloped characters are ironclad.

Asparagus and Gus are father and son. This is to explain why the actor who plays Asparagus is always around, and called Gus/Asparagus, and then for Theater Cat and Growltiger he seems much older but is still called Gus. It's the same actor in slightly different costumes but fans just pretend there's two characters to explain it.

Same thing with Admetus/Plato, who doubles as Macavity in the 1998 DVD, and in many stage performances as well. Macavity is Plato's evil alter ego, but he's in love with Victoria so he doesn't want anyone to know. Or he's not even aware that he is Macavity. A Jekyll and Hyde sort of deal.

Mistoffelees is Macavity's son and that's why he can do magic. (Ergo why Macavity can make Old Deut disappear and Mistoffelees can make him reappear).

Alonzo was Munkustrap's gay fling in college so to speak. Or Alonzo is Munkustrap's half-brother

Coricopat and Tantomile are psychic twins (almost canon) and coach Sillabub/Jemima because she sings really pretty when she's in a trance and seems to Know Ineffable Stuff. In fanfics they're often depicted as not liking Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer, which is kinda funny because I guess I would have thought twins on twins would have been The Thing, lol.

Griddlebone was Gus's wife and sometimes Jellylorum's mom. She's evil, independently of Macavity, but also in cahoots with him because song lyrics. ETA: Also that she's Grizabella when she was young!

There's a cat just called George who everyone loves. He's an ensemble cat with no particulars. Love George. Worship George.

Look there's like ninety seven thousand characters in Cats (the Musical) and three times as many headcanons. I'm leaving a lot out but I can't remember any more right now and I gotta go make dinner.

#cats musical #cats the musical

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itstokkii · 4 months

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All these anons just make me want to talk about Turkey more. What are your favorite Turkey headcanons? Personally I love to think that Sadik writes poetry in his spare time, and is very, very good at it.

As someone who ships Turkfra because of how fascinating the history between France and the Ottoman Empire is (Franco-Ottoman alliance) I like to think that they would both really bond over each other’s rich poetry culture. Not to mention their rich cuisines. Maybe they cook together in the evenings, or take turns cooking and surprising each other with elaborate dinners.

Youre so right

aph turkey hcs

- physically he's around 180cm, perhaps he had visible muscles during the ottoman empire period but he's mellowed out now and let a little softness take over his form. He put on a little bit of weight bc he's a sweet tooth but it fluctuates from time to time.

- definitely keeps cat treats in his pocket for the stray cats of istanbul!! and when he fishes he leaves a portion for the cats to eat!

- while he is a cat person and owns cats(one of them is named tombili 🥺), he also owns a few dogs too! he probably gets along with germany on that part(maybe korea? though korea owns the cute fluffy tiny dogs that feel the need to eat your face off when it makes eye contact with you).

- is a man of the kitchen. aside from cooking the most banger meals, he dabbles in tweaking recipes or creating new ones altogether! ive seen enough turkish dessert accounts on instagram to know he'd make a bomber cake with coconut shavings, or a pretty good custard.

- the coconut shavings are important btw they're like on every single homemade turkish chocolate cake for some reason??(source: baby tokki grew up with a lot of turkish family friends)

- sorry i have to do this but...he has mediocre drip 🥲 sometimes he dresses like your average old man or middle aged dad and then sometimes it's so obvious that he's trying to dress like the youngsters.. he def has his knockoff Adidas tracksuits and they always come in clutch

- he's not an old man however. he was born as one of the many tribes running around in the seljuk era before he eventually became the ottoman empire. physically...around his mid 20s to early 30s?

- and cuz he has turkish dad vibes...he regularly watches soccer games. like he lays down on the couch elbow propped up eating pistachios as he watches soccer in a Galatasaray shirt(actually turkish fans of hetalia pls tell me who hed be a fan of bc I don't regularly watch turkish soccer)

- regularly plays volleyball!

- life of the party at weddings tbh, especially those rural ones

- very hospitable! he'll arrange a table full of treats and black tea for you and won't take no for an answer as he brags about how hospitable he is.

- when you're at his house DO NOT EVER suggest getting takeout. he will stare at you with a >:0 face

- WILL spill the tea over tea. man's got enough connections to tell you abt who's cheating on who etc. while he has his whole spread of treats and black tea out he'll keep you up on everything. when he goes "Ok so basically" that's when you brace yourself because OH BOY is someone in a secret relationship with someone else and that person you'd always assumed was super shy actually sprinkled salt on their ex's backyard

- the ac in his istanbul apartment keeps breaking(good luck with that man 😔)

- that's why in the summer he spends a big chunk of his paycheck on icecream. bro makes sure to always have icecream stocked on him at all times(just like me fr !!). he'd even eat it in the winter he loves it that much.

- also at the same time he drinks hot tea in the 40-50 degree summer as well, another win for the turkuzbek fans !

- big into architecture, and back in the day it was custom to write a poem to commemorate a new building. he definitely wrote a few but spent forever thinking about how to write it and pissed a lot of people off because they were waiting for the poem lol

- i actually really like fraturk's dynamic! because theyve got a lot of history together, it would be terrible to ignore. i think they have definitely gotten together during the Franco-Ottoman alliance lol.

- one time the french wanted to flex on austria × spain by going "oh yeah??? well we got turkey!!" and commissioned a huge super ornate crown to gift to suleiman the great. see the funny part about this is um. the turks didn't wear crowns. so suleiman never wore it lol

turkey, holding the crown: uhmmmm... wall decoration I guess?? this is awkward

- the name "turquoise" comes from the French "turkish" to describe the gem. i guess that's a fraturk win??? since we all associate that color with turkey now

- they'd probably try to one up each other with the dinners they cook! (can france handle lahmacun??? tune in later today at 11pm to find out !!)

- coffee guy x tea guy with the whole parisian coffee culture and turkish tea culture thing. (except I mean. turkish coffee also exists so)

- I wanna think france tries to help turkey with his drip situation but. turkey always got that inner middle aged dad in him it's not going anywhere

- bulgaria likes going to turkeys place cuz the stuff there is dirt cheap ~~~~!!! rip the lira you would have loved economic stability

- speaking of bulgaria, bulgaria greece and turkey argue a lot over who invented yogurt. turkey thinks he's got a stake in it because of the etymology of yogurt(yoğurtmak), but like the bacteria to make yogurt is called lactobacillius bulgaricus, but everyone thinks of greek yogurt...yeah you can see why they're all arguing

- speaking of arguing he's ratioed saudi a couple times on twitter lol

- he also posts those ironic turk/turan copy pastas as well

- egypt kinda doesn't like him. during the ottoman empire turkey launched egypt to suppress arab revolts like a pokemon.

*putting down fingers* "the greeks don't like us, egypt doesn't like us, saudi definitely doesn't like us....bulgaria likes us cuz we're a cheap travel destination for them..." - my turkish business teacher in highschool, 2023

- gets along well with korea(uhoh BIAS incoming !!!) due to their history beginning from the korean war. the turkish brigade was the only military unit that built a school for korean orphans. there's a story of a soldier taking care of a korean orphan, but he wasn't able to adopt her. they were separated for years after that until one day they reunited. they'd also suffered the third most losses in the war. that's why we call turkey our "older brother country."

- there's even a turkish culture center in seoul(which baby tokki went to a lot lol). recently turkish kaymak has been trending since one of the top korean celebrity chefs paik joongwon visited turkey a while back to try food. people have been traveling to turkey to go to the exact stores and try those foods as well. there's a lot of kebab shops in korea! the turkish presence in korea was the starting point to accommodate muslims in korea as well.

- all of this to say korea and turkey have a mutual admiration and korea definitely calls turkey oppa or hyung. korea also tries to get him to change his drip but NOTHJNG CAN DEFEAT THE STEADFAST TURKISH MIDDLE AGED MAN RAAAH 🇹🇷🇹🇷🇹🇷

- I've said it before I'll say it again: turkey cannot hold a normal conversation with mongolia because he'll always go "OH MY FELLOW NOMAD STEPPE ALTAIC BROTHER HOW ARE YOU DOING!!!" what???

- same with the central asians tbh given their nomadic history as well. he was the first nation to recognize all of their indepences fom russia. he gets along with turkmenistan a lot because they're the closest languages to each other(both in oghuz family) and a lot of turkmens go to turkey to study at their universities! the governments quite stagnant with their policies however, so turkey's having a hard time convincing her to join the turkic council as a full time member. they give me a gojo and megumi vibe for some reason lol

- kazakhstan 🤝 turkey: both having the asian/european identity crisis

- in terms of first meetings, the kazakh khanate and ottoman empire first established diplomatic relations in 1713, and along with uzbekistan, tried to seek turkey's help in the face of an expanding russian empire.

- nowadays, turkey and kazakhstan are the ones to both try to stir up that regional/turkic unity among the central asians. they've gained some small wins along the way lol. in fact, turkey, kazakhstan, and kyrgyzstan were the founding members of the turkic council! kazakhstan admires all that turkey's doing for them but sometimes thinks he's too cocky. actually all the central asians think he's cocky to certain extents lol

- bro gets along a little better with hungary now and that could be because of the whole "huns=turkic?" debate resurfacing in hungary which is why they somehow landed a spot in the turkic council as well???

uzb kaz kyrg turk azer @ hungary: white woman jumpscare,

- he and hungary regularly bother prussia whenever they're in germany lol

- scraps w the netherlands bc tulips come from him!!! not from Licorice Man!!!!!

- fluctuating relationship with iran over the years

- was a fanboy of iran during the seljuk empire until she joined the khwarazmian empire(uzb's mom lol) and then he hated her

- also close with: azerbaijan(who may or may not be his number one fanboy), japan

Here's everything I could squeeze out of my brain lol hope you like it!!

a good chunk of these hcs are by @peonycats and @hetalia-fannn btw!! sorry for not initially crediting u guys i forgot 😭

#hetalia #tokki writes #aph turkey #hws turkey #sadik adnan #tokki answers

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literaryspinster · 5 months

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Skills

One of the easiest ways to endear me to a character is to give them a skill (another reason Tiana, Mulan, Esmeralda and Rapunzel are a few of my favorite Disney Heroines, they all have/gain skills that are at least somewhat valuable to the plot and their character development). Ariel too but since everyone in the Disneyverse has an amazing voice it's hard for her to stand out in that way. But I'm not sure why I went on a tangent about Disney heroines when this post is actually about Gen V. For fanfic and meta purposes I've been thinking of what skills the characters should have that don't inherently pertain to being superheroes.

Marie: Medicine. This is a popular one and for a reason. I'd love it if in the coming seasons we see her going even beyond the instincts of her powers to understand how bodies work and how to fix them, and the healing properties of certain drugs, herbs and plants. This would make her powers even more efficient and would come in clutch if she was ever unable to use them for whatever reason. She's already expressed interest in learning CPR (in the funniest way possible), and is generally invested in saving lives rather than merely fighting, so let's see where that goes. Jordan: Music. I'll admit that this was mostly spawned by the shot of a guitar in their room and the fact that listening to music is the first thing we see them doing, but having musical abilities is also considered a plus in Vought world. However, I don't think performing at award shows and telethons is going to make them happy. For Jordan I see playing instruments as something they do as a very personal, stress-relieving activity that they just happen to be very good at. They do open mics out of costume and write melodies in a journal and give their friends little concerts. It's what centers them.

Emma: Sewing, costume design. I headcanon that she makes her own tiny outfits (although they are just as likely doll clothes). After embracing her growth abilities she will probably also have to learn to make giant clothes, or garments with a lot of stretch and versatility. She has a fairly quirky and dynamic sense of fashion so I'd imagine she'd get a lot out of this creatively as well.

Cate: Event planning, hospitality. Cate, with all of her many many flaws, has a very warm and friendly demeanor, and a way of making people feel comfortable. She also has that confident popular girl quality and just wants everyone around her to have a good time. I bet she throws a bitching party.

Sam: Painting, drawing. Sam sees the world in an unconventional way to say the least, and he has a lot of troubles that he could use a peaceful outlet for. The idea of him getting inspiration from his comic books and learning to draw and paint is a solid one in my opinion.

Andre/Luke: Athletics. It's difficult to talk about Andre right now, and Luke left before I got to know him better, but they both have athlete vibes to me. I see Andre being really into a rowdier sport like hockey or soccer, and Luke gravitating more toward something preppy like lacrosse or rowing. But if they were on the same team I think their sport would be baseball.

#marie moreau #jordan li #emma meyer #cate dunlap #sam riordan #andre anderson #luke riordan #gen v #meta

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supermentaleyeliner · 21 days

Text

2 episodes into KAOS and weeped...

first of all. dionysus. just. fucking dionysus.

that man is all i needed to cure my emotional support spirit slut deficiency. bububuub that's not the point. (it kinda is)

this show reminds me so much of the umbrella academy it makes me cry. i mean, the music. THE MUSIC !!!!! i haven't even finished episode 2 and hold on i'm coming and the passenger both ???? did you expect me not to notice that???? did you expect me not to clutch my heart and die on the spot????

and when you took dionysus to the cave did you expect that it would not remind me of soul kitchen and kill me???? did you expect my brain not to be filled with SÉANCE in a mere second????? thank god for this. all my love right now goes to my friend who made me watch this, but that's another story.

just jessuuuusus chrrrrissttttt did you expect me not to think of klaus hargreeves my beloved while you showed me dionysus cackling in the front and backseat of the car, while orpheus is freaked out like that? did you expect that you could give me a funeral and a down-toned yet cuntingly dressed dionysus fixated on the one thing everyone else wasn't, be a step behind every movement during the ceremony, give him a purpose right there and i wouldn't start crying WE ONLY SEE EACH OTHER AT WEDDINGS AND FUNERALS???

and THE UNDERWORLD, oh, the underworld. it gave me tua and loki at the same time. the tva especially from the point where we see hades (god praise david thewlis). and the black and white filter and the buildings and the educational video.

and caneus??? him dying like that??? did you expect that i would not start laughing and crying in hysteria just the way we all did as klaus died and came back to life?

hell, the boat thing even reminded me of old Korean myths on the afterlife. bloody beautiful. i can't.

the whole show is just a reminder of tua and i can't believe--- if i hadn't found it---

it's just the same vibe yk??? the usage of music???

this is so unorganized and i'll probably regret posting this later, but i just had to get it out and written before it all flew out of me. there's so much more that i noticed from this !!! ugh !!!! i'm so happy right now. i can't describe it. vero.

also...

i found this almost exactly one and a half day after i fell in love with klaus (started tua). now, talking with my friend, i basically said the same thing but about dionysus. ugh thank god to kaos existing for a tua slut like this.

kaos will not replace the umbrella academy but further ignite the hold it has on me, the love i have for it...

#kaos #the umbrella academy #dionysus #klaus hargreeves #tua #david thewlis #soundtrack #tua soundtrack #kaos soundtrack #jeff goldblum #nabhaan rizwan #you have no idea how much i needed me a manwhore #so disorganized #so messy #definitely not proofread #but who cares #right...?

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sublimecatgalaxy · 1 year

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Hey dear❤️ How are you? I'm so happy for your book, I want to read it soooo much. Can I request Protective Thomas Shelby x reader with the prompt n.2?

Bestie I haven't written for Thomas Shelby in a while, I had to go on tik tok and watch edits to get a vibe again for him LOL

ALSO MY BOOK IS PUBLISHED!!! PLS SUPPORT AND GO BUY!!

The sound of loud knocking has me jumping up out of bed, clutching the sheets to my chest as Thomas sits up beside me, cool as ever. His hand reaches up to soothe my hair that's gone wild in the night, my eyes, still glazes over with sleep, peering into his.

"What was that?" I ask, my hands shaking as I think of who it could possibly be- out of all the enemies that the Shelbys have managed to gain over the years- but Tommy just smiles softly and presses his lips to my temple while whispering calming words.

"Thomas Shelby!" Arthurs voice rings out in the house as he climbs the steps and I sigh a breath of relief but a feeling of embarrassment washes over me at my naked form and I see the way Thomas's jaw clenches as he sits up out of bed and slips into a shirt.

Thomas whips open the door to reveal a drunk Arthur, a happy, drunken smile on his lips as he spots his brother in the dimly lit doorway. I hide under the covers the best I can but when Arthur sees me, he's happier than ever.

"Aye, Y/n, you look lovely-" He starts but Tommy presses a hand to his chest and firmly pushes him out of my line of sight.

"Step out of the room right fucking now." He grits and I can hear them talking in the hallway. "Whose fuckin' blood is that?" I snicker quietly to myself, knowing that Arthur tends to go way too far on his typical bar fights, getting kicked out of another one tonight, I presume.

"Some bloke who messed with the wrong guy, aye brother?" He laughs but Tommy just sighs in annoyance and pats his brother on the shoulder.

"Go home, Arthur. Clean up and rest."

"Jus' wanted to make sure you two were 'lright." He slurs and I smile, sitting up so I can see the two men in the doorway.

"We're alright, Arthur, thank you." I smile and I can see the blush tint Arthur's cheeks at my kind words. "Why don't you go sleep on the couch tonight, love?" Tommy's head whips back to me as the offer goes in one ear and right out the other and he goes to shake his head but the minute he sees my pleading look, he folds. "Right Tommy? He'd be safer that way." Tommy eventually nods, giving in to my wishes.

"You've got a beauty of a lady there, don't ya?" Arthur coos and I grin to myself, giving him a small wave as he makes his way back down the stairs. "Sleep well."

Tommy shuts the door when he knows that Arthur made it down the steps safely and I accept him into my warm arms, his ear resting against my chest so he can listen to my heart beat to it's gentle rhythm.

"You're too kind." He whispers, hands sliding up my side, caressing me gently as I press a kiss to the top of his head.

"That's why you love me."

#thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas #thomas x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fic

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eemcintyre · 6 months

Text

Playing the Part

TW- an instance of nonconsensual kissing.

Summary- After the events of Rodeo Drive, the vibes between Valerie and Terry are noticeably different. Finally, Terry arranges for the media to discover them when they soft-launch their relationship to the public at a cafe.

Apologies that it's taken this long to get the third part out and that's it's not super long, but I'm finally happy with it and hopefully over my writer's block for a bit! Don't know why I was so stuck on this one but a big thank you to @karatekels for giving the me the inspo I needed to slightly rework and finish it! I hope y'all enjoy 😄

Several days had passed since the whirlwind day on Rodeo Drive, and on the following Wednesday, Valerie sat in the Dynatox office at her desk. Elbows propped atop the armrests of her chair, she clutched a steaming cup of tea to her chest, holding it more as a comfort and as something to do with her nervous hands than as a beverage, but remembering to take a sip every now and then.

It was safe to say that, if things already hadn’t felt odd and uncomfortable between her and Terry, they certainly were now. In addition to their regular duties at work, luckily a lot of the time when they had to be near each other was also consumed by preparations for their public debut that weekend.

Unfortunately, however, none of it was enough to prevent Valerie from inadvertently staring at Terry from across the office instead of at her computer. And, rather than glaring at him and his cigar smoke, her gaze curiously traced the curve of his ring-adorned fingers, as well as the faint outlines of muscle visible through his clothes; a sight that had been seared into her memory all too well after his damp, shirtless entrance at his home the other week.

Why didn’t God ever seem to give with both hands? How could such an egotistical, rude, depraved man have the nerve to be so good-looking?

While Valerie engaged in this mental battle of wills, pointedly scowling down into the murky depths of her tea, she didn’t notice Terry studying her just as intently from his own desk, his face partially hidden behind a folder. The hysterical irony of this moment was not lost on him; he could hardly contain his laughter at how the tables had turned within a matter of weeks, from him watching her obsessively, to her now doing the same, clearly trying to fight the urge but just as clearly losing.

The next day, another afternoon at the Ennis House, was almost too much for Valerie to handle given the changed atmosphere between them. The purpose of this meeting was the carefully planned photoshoot, orchestrated to give the impression that they’d been dating for longer and spent many more occasions together than they really had. All afternoon they changed outfits while Terry’s staff reworked the amassed props and backdrops to mimic another building location or overseas locale. What an odd experience that had been, like they were models posing for an editorial shoot.

Valerie caught herself wondering throughout, as they held hands and beamed at each other and acted out scenes of parties, trips, and even just lounging together at the house, what it would actually be like to be in such a relationship, intermingling with that section of society.

On one hand, it seemed it would be full of whimsical adventure- she imagined the places around the world that she would see that she otherwise would probably never be able to; the celebrities, political figures, art collectors and other Silver-esque businessmen whose wealth made them influential that she would meet. And perhaps the most wonderful part of all- to never have to worry about money again; to be comfortable and unconcerned about whether she looked cheap or could make her rent; to have the freedom to treat herself to some of life’s finer things.

On the other hand, if Terry was any example to go off of, she wondered whether it would be worth sacrificing her humanity and sincerity. But, seeing as she would never know regardless, she soon stopped contemplating what was a nonexistent problem- in favor of devoting her attention to the very much existent one.

Despite the echoing roominess and impassive blocks of stone comprising every room in the Ennis House, with each moment of lingering eye contact or prolonged silence, all air seemed to leave the room and Valerie felt suffocated and sweaty. After a few too many times that she caught herself gazing at his mouth when he seemed not to be looking, she excused herself to the bathroom.

This would not do. She spent a chunk of time pacing before the mirror across the room’s red and black tiles, noting with an unsurprised chuckle that, of course, even his bathroom looked villainous and over-the-top. If she didn’t have the misfortune of knowing the man, she wouldn’t believe he was real. As Valerie paced, she whispered to her reflection in the mirror, lecturing herself. Even though she was rooms and hallways away from where she had left Terry, she had the weird feeling that he could hear and see everything that went on in that house.

“You didn’t move across the country, do all of this work, and take all of his bullshit just to become another of his one-night stands,” she hissed. “Sure, it’s not like this is something that happens to people every day and, all things considered, I think you’ve been handling things pretty well. Credit where credit is due. But try and act like you’ve been kissed before.” She paused in front of the mirror with a wilting look, gripping the black marble counter with both hands. “Sure, it was good, but it wasn’t that good.” She pointed firmly at herself in warning. “Remember who that mouth is attached to.”

When the morning dawned on the Saturday that was to be her and Terry’s official public debut, Valerie was struck for the first time with the feeling that she truly might not be able to handle the responsibilities she’d taken on in their ever-so-unconventional agreement. Dressing in another of the outfits she and Joan had picked out, Valerie tried to channel the grace, elegance, and poise of the attire as she stood in front of her mirror, shaking.

Struggling to fit her wallet and everything else she thought she might need into another of the new and unbearably small handbags, Valerie made a last check that her pearl earrings hadn’t fallen out along her frenzied way as Milos buzzed the apartment- the signal that it was time to be whisked away by the limo once more. Except, this time, instead of admiring the California scenery or feeling the least bit sophisticated and cool, she felt like she was being transported to her own public execution. At least she would leave behind a fashionable-looking corpse.

Over the entire drive to the café, Terry was listing off the facts of their fabricated backstory and coaching her on how to behave, but Valerie was too concentrated on trying not to throw up to retain much of it. Not only was the press always trying to dig up stories on Terry regardless, but he'd specifically arranged for reporters and paparazzi to witness the couple's upcoming appearance by utilizing one of his media contacts to drop a tip.

“Valerie!” he eventually snapped at her, succeeding in capturing her attention. “You can’t lose your nerve on me now. We’ve both put in too much work for you to go deer-in-the-headlights at the last minute.”

Valerie opened her mouth in a defensive but stammering reply; Terry could easily see past the thin layer of bluster. While part of him wanted to gloat about how she wasn’t so smart-mouthed now, huh? he knew he had to help her keep it together in this moment. The fun of breaking her down would come later and taste all the sweeter. He scooted closer to her, getting in her face, softening the volume of his voice but not the gravity of his tone or expression. She recoiled slightly, but not as much as she used to when they first interacted, he noted. Excellent.

“Listen to me. Fear does not exist. To get through this and give a truly believable performance, you’ve got to shut out everything but you and me. You’re the enchanting starlet, I’m your leading man, and we’re both method actors now, baby. If we really sell it, there’s no way any of them will know unless we tell them- which, of course, isn’t going to happen. We’re the ones in control here. They’re just a bunch of parasites looking for a good story. And, hell, are we going to give them one.”

Terry finished his pep talk with the cunning smirk that usually annoyed her, but in that moment, his persistent confidence reassured her.

The limo rolled to a stop soon after and the two of them were dropped at the curb- after that, everything became a blur until, suddenly, Valerie found herself sitting at a table on a café patio, hardly knowing how she or the drink and pastry on the table in front of her got there. Since scrutinizing their surroundings for reporters surprisingly didn’t do her anxiety any good, she attempted an alternate strategy, which was keeping her gaze glued to the foamy, white-beige surface of her London Fog. Terry, on the other hand, was surveying their view with calculated intentions, absentmindedly toying with the ring on his left pinky. He muttered a curse and something else inaudible, prompting Valerie to tear her gaze away from her tea and glance at him with her eyebrows furrowed.

“What?”

Terry pointedly glanced to a spot across the street. By a streetlamp and a decorative bed of greenery, a woman lurked in the shade provided by the nearby shrubs. At first glance, she looked like any other pedestrian, in a chic but nondescript pantsuit and orange-red hair swept and pinned up out of her face. But closer inspection revealed her to be scribbling furiously on a notepad, head bobbing up and down from the notepad to the couple seated in front of the café. Then a camera lens glinted from behind the bushes, alerting Valerie to the fact that the woman was not alone- accompanied by not one, but two photographers.

“Who’s that?” Valerie hissed, and Terry’s hand shot forward to grip one of hers in a warning not to react so visibly.

“That’s Amanda Shotwell, the gossip queen of L.A. Mandy’s been trying to come up with some kind of big story on me for years,” he remarked with a patronizing chuckle, suggesting she hadn't yet succeeded and never would unless he wanted her to.

Of the few sure things in Los Angeles, one was that the sun would rise and set each day. Another was that Ms. Shotwell would be knee-deep in everyone’s business for every moment in between.

Over her years as the leading reporter on First Look News’ staff, she had built up a reputation so relentless that she was once quoted as saying “If I don’t get threatened with a restraining order, it means I just haven’t been investigating hard enough.” She often justified her invasive practices, from straddling the fences of private estates to placing hidden cameras, with claims that she was on a noble mission to expose vice and promote transparency- that the people deserved to know what the public figures around them were doing. But anyone with the slightest grip on reality could see that she was addicted to the drama and the power trip that she got from essentially terrorizing the city’s upper circles.

“So, smile, honey- it’s showtime.”

Terry’s grip on Valerie’s hand tightened, and it seemed to her to be simultaneously a warning to begin playing it up, as well as a gesture of grounding comfort. It was now or never to show them all- him, the press, her family and friends, and herself that she could do something intimidating and impulsive- and succeed.

Now that the moment was upon her and the anticipation was over, it was like a switch inside had flipped. Boldly meeting Terry’s expectant eyes, she smiled forcefully, taking a long sip of her previously untouched London Fog.

“Atta girl,” he murmured, lifting her hand to press a kiss to it without breaking their eye contact.

Valerie glanced demurely down at her lap, eyelashes fluttering, pretending to laugh softly through gritted teeth.

“So, what are we supposed to do?” she replied, stealing another glance in Ms. Shotwell’s direction- the scribbling had increased in ferocity and she seemed to be quietly barking orders at the photographers.

“Drink your tea,” he muttered, as if he were stating the obvious.

“Shotwell can’t possibly be her real last name,” Valerie remarked on the all too well-fitting surname for a reporter, eyebrows furrowed.

Terry tried to engage her in small talk that was meant to distract her and help their performance, but which Valerie found only further maddening. Soon she realized that his face was now inches away from her own. Fighting the urge to jump backward despite how every nerve in her body was screaming, “What are you doing?” she hissed.

“Come on, they’ll love it; they’ll go crazy.”

“I… hold on, um-” Valerie felt the panic returning as Terry began to close the remainder of the space between them.

“Just remember the way we practiced- relax, let it flow.”

She felt his other hand, the one not already intertwined with one of hers, firmly at the back of her neck as he pressed his mouth to hers. She heard the frenetic clicking of cameras getting what was sure to be the next day’s juicy, front-page shot of the Society section.

When Terry finally released her, after what felt like an eternity, she felt heat ascending across her face. Wrenching her hand from his as nondescriptly as possible, she hid her face behind her teacup and took another sip, head spinning.

When she finally managed to look back at Terry, she saw that he was trying desperately not to laugh, and her disorientation turned to seething. By then, Amanda and her photoshoot entourage had given up even trying to hide and were out in the open across the street in the effort to get better shots.

Valerie and Terry pretended to only just now notice their presence, laughing together in embarrassment that their intimate moment had been immortalized in film and that their relationship would now be revealed- as if the choice to sit right in front of a popular café on a busy morning wouldn’t have been enough of a guarantee of that result.

But one benefit of Valerie's anger was that it had pushed even the thought of nervousness temporarily to the wayside. She was almost overcome with the urge to slap him, but that simply wouldn’t do. Another course of action, one that would arguably be an even better revenge on him, would have to suffice.

As the forced laughter stretched on, Valerie calmly set her teacup down and dipped the tip of her finger into the foam surface.

“You try that again before I’m ready and I’ll break your fingers,” she whispered saccharinely, while, without breaking eye contact or saying a word, she reached across the table and smeared the finger covered with foam across the point of Terry’s nose.

She saw him arm move almost imperceptibly to snap up and grab her, before his better judgment reeled him in. His normally icy-pale face took on a distinct shade of angry red underneath an absolutely shit-eating grin as he wiped his nose with his napkin.

“I’d love to see you try,” he replied through a tightly clenched jaw.

Even though she briefly wondered whether she’d gone too far, Valerie’s adrenaline allowed her to hold her ground. She was tired of Terry pushing her around and acting like he was the only one with power in this arrangement. He needed her. Her eyes flitted briefly to Ms. Shotwell and her cameramen and back to Terry.

“It wouldn’t be a good look for you to be caught in an angry outburst at your defenseless little girlfriend,” she murmured, unable to suppress a smirk. “You can’t do a thing.”

“You’re a fucking brat,” he retorted, before taking a deep breath, shifting his jaw, and downing the remainder of his coffee. She grinned to herself as she noted the vein bulging in his forehead.

After about a half-hour of playful displays of affection, punctuated by snide exchanges under their breath, the couple settled their check and got up to leave. That was when Amanda and her goons, as well as a couple of paparazzi from other publications, made their move and approached the couple on the sidewalk as they headed down the street to where Milos and the car were waiting for them.

A member of Terry’s security entourage, who had joined Milos in the limo, jumped from the car in an effort to keep the various interlopers from getting too far into Terry and Valerie’s space, growling at them to “make a lane.” Terry had also stepped protectively in front of Valerie as she followed closely behind, white-knuckling his hand, the two of them temporarily putting aside the earlier confrontation.

“No comment,” he replied flatly as the reporters and camerapeople, particularly Amanda, peppered them with questions.

“You two were looking pretty cozy back there; we’ve never seen this side of you before,” Amanda tried to prompt some kind of response from Terry, walking backwards so she could face him as they moved, nearly tripping over her cameramen and shooting them warning looks. “C’mon, Silver- give us something to work with!”

“What’s your name?”

“How do you know Terry?”

“How long have you been going out?”

They asked Valerie, who stared silently ahead, apart from copying Terry with a coy “No comment,” thankful that her wide eyes were now hidden behind a pair of heavily tinted sunglasses.

“Come on, honey- give us a smile for the cameras!”

The immediate silence was blissful, yet jarring, as Terry and Valerie finally hopped into the limo and drove off, leaving the media utterly maddened with curiosity and frothing for answers.

“That’s how we do it, Milos!” Terry exclaimed triumphantly, patting his driver on the back as he slid into the seat behind him. “Always leave ‘em wanting more.”

Willing to put the tension of the morning behind them, Valerie was about to make a celebratory statement about how they’d pulled off their debut, but before she could get a word out, Terry said sternly “Don’t you ever pull a stunt like that again.”

“Like what? Humanize you a little? Don’t be ridiculous- they loved it. Being so serious and perfectly rehearsed in front of the public all the time isn’t doing you any favors. If you’re so concerned about your image, it wouldn’t hurt once in a while to show people that you have a softer side- even if you and I know it’s all just bullshit.”

While Terry knew that she had a bit of a point, he bristled at the notion of showing weakness like that for the world to see. Convincing his potential investors, shareholders, employees and other associates that he was loyal and levelheaded and not some unstable, corrupt sex addict by no means had to include him parading around like a lovesick fool.

“In my world, you can’t show weakness,” was what he verbally boiled his thoughts down to. Valerie’s brows furrowed and she tilted her head skeptically.

“Everyone has some kind of weakness.”

He didn’t appreciate her insinuation but decided to move on; the conversation was a waste of time. He sighed and rolled his eyes. “Look, I’m not going to debate the nature of humanity with you in the back of this limo.”

Remembering his ultimate goal, Terry relaxed his tensed posture and angry expression, taking a deep breath that, in the confines of the limo, was scented strongly with her perfume.

“They really loved it though, huh?” he grinned, tearing his gaze from out the front windshield of the vehicle and to her expectant face, which returned a hesitant smile. She figured that this was his subtle way of telling her that she did a good job without having to admit that she had been right.

“Without a doubt, we have their attention. Now, it’s just a matter of whether they really bought it and where they’re going to run with it.”

At his words, Valerie felt senses of both pride in her performance and fear of just where, exactly, the press was going to “run with it” prickle at her spine. She could probably expect curious and bewildered calls from her relatives and friends within the next couple of days if the media really cooked up an interesting story or gave it enough page space. But, for the time being, she just laughed in triumph along with Terry in the backseat of the limo, clasping his outstretched hand in a congratulatory gesture.

#thomas ian griffith #terry silver #cobra kai #the karate kid #creative writing #enemies to lovers #fake dating #karate kid fanfiction

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