#both the premise AND my writing style
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okay, sent the thing in. now i'm waiting for that feeling of relief or accomplishment bc by god has it not hit me at ALL
#bee blabs#like- uhhh i thought this was supposed to feel rewarding#idk man i'm lowkey still a little anxious#like what if the recipient hates it#both the premise AND my writing style#what if they can tell i deteriorated throughout the piece#and dug myself into a pit of self-loathing#is that obvious bc idk atp#what if my 12k words is drab and they stop reading at 1k ?#WHAT IF MY POTENTIAL MAGNUM OPUS IS ACTUALLY THE WORST THING I'VE EVER MADE#idk when i'll stop panicking abt this fic#i basically sold my soul on this idea knowing *i* would like it#so even if they hate shadow 05 or my writing or both#i hope they can see i poured my heart out to create something substantial to gift to them#i rly do or i might cry#tbh i fear never hearing from my recipient actually#this fic owns me now and not in a good way
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i saw a post saying boom was good bc it feels like it could be done with any doctor/companion duo and honestly that was one of the things i felt was wrong with it
#in a show with a title character that could be Literally Anyone and a companion sharing the lead that could be Literally Anyone#i value the little moments that set this duo apart from the rest. ESPECIALLY when it comes to returning writers like rtd/moff#fifteen and ruby felt a little too eleven/twelve and clara adjacent in boom. in both their dialogue and characterization#space babies also landed a little weird at first bc it lifted a bit from end of the world BUT the scenes that fifteen and ruby#had to themselves. like ruby getting covered in snot and fifteen laughing. or fifteen and ruby looking after the Space Babies#or fifteen going out of his way to save the monster bc that monster is the only one of its kind Just Like Him Fr#that stuff is so good and its also something we haven't seen from another nuwho doctor. the vulnerable bleeding-heart empathy#and a dynamic w a companion that is basically 'two troublemakers that just deeply love fun and adventure and getting into trouble together'#oh yeah and also the devil's chord was peak fiction because it touches on fifteen's renewed connection and love for humanity#and marries it to ruby being a musician and how music like any art is the expression of the human soul etc etc#WHAT MAKES A DOCTOR WHO STORY GOOD TO ME IS PARTLY HOW THE PREMISE TIES INTO THE DOCTOR AND COMPANION'S CHARACTERS#IT HAS TO FEEL LIKE IT WAS TAILOR MADE TO THEM. ELSE IT WONT LAND RIGHT TO ME#i hate the take that they should've saved wild blue yonder for a fifteen episode bc#the tension is hinged on how well the doctor/companion know each other. u have a level of it that u can ONLY get#with fourteen and donna who are two halves of a whole soul but have also spent much more time missing the other than knowing them#im not rewatching fifteen's eps rn until a week later when i can watch it w my qpp but#rn i still feel a stronger sense of fifteen and ruby's characters from all the rtd-written eps rather moffat#which like. i get that a lot of that is my personal dislike of moffat's writing style but still#dr who#15 era#dw spoilers
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you know what really grinds my gears?
okay, bear with me: so as you may know, harry houdini and arthur conan doyle were friends, at least for a while.
by the early 1920s, both arthur conan doyle and acd's wife jean, aka lady doyle, believed whole-heartedly in spiritualism, talking to ghosts and all of that. (sidenote: this was of course right on the heels of a devastating world war and a devastating pandemic, both of which had created a huge population of grieving people, so spiritualism was having a moment.)
lady doyle sincerely thought she had the ability to go into a trance state and pass along messages in writing from the dead. she offered to do this for houdini. houdini agreed.
lady doyle attempted to channel houdini's late mother. she basically drew a cross at the top of the paper and filled it with generic platitudes addressed to "harry." houdini's mom was jewish and didn't talk like that, so houdini knew the jig was up, even if lady doyle didn't. but not wanting to make the situation awkward, he kind of went along with it to their faces.
then acd decided to publish a glowing account of the seance, and since both he and houdini were super famous, it got a lot of attention, and letters started pouring in for houdini, asking if this was true. ultimately, houdini couldn't lie about it. so he essentially said, like, "yeah, i think lady doyle THINKS she can talk to ghosts but she absolutely can't." and it ruined his friendship with acd forever.
and then of course a lot of the people running seances weren't even well-intentioned like lady doyle, they were just simple charlatans taking advantage of traumatized people mourning loved ones. in houdini's youth, he and his wife had traveled the carnival circuit where he did an act pretending to commune with spirits, so he knew all the tricks of the trade AND he had lingering guilt over having done this, AND he was infuriated by this increasingly popular wave of con artists so he decided to assemble a team of anti-grifting grifters and together they went on the road exposing whichever spiritualists were preying on the locals.
houdini's best agent was a young woman named rose mackenberg, who donned disguises to visit the fraud de jour and then importantly sussed out what non-supernatural thing was actually happening, and then houdini would demonstrate the techniques onstage to packed audiences.
(if you want to know more, check out episode 175, "ghost racket crusade" of the podcast Criminal or read Tony Wolf's book The Real-Life Ghostbusting Adventures of Rose Mackenberg.)
but yeah, what really gets my goat is that all this happened and as far as i know, we still don't have like four seasons of a Leverage-style historical procedural about rose mackenberg and the rest of the crew having adventures in the 1920s as they unmask craven hucksters all over the united states. (what we do have, apparently, is one season of a show called "houdini and doyle" which is about the oddball friendship of two contrasting men solving sometimes-actually-supernatural mysteries, and whose premise does i think at the very least a real disservice to houdini's whole quest and also totally erases rose, who is arguably the most interesting part of this story to me.)
i am just steamed about this. steamed.
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I wish we saw more casual diversity among Vulcans in regards to... well, everything: fashion, art, history, geography, language, religion and philosophy, occupations, familial units, and logical styles and emotional management, and so on. The monoculture that "Star Trek" tends towards is both unrealistic and kind of boring.
(I think that my ideal "Star Trek" show would have a minimum of two matching non-humans in the main crew who are from opposite sides of their planet; these two alien coworkers have almost NOTHING in common. It immediately creates compelling character dynamics.)
Anyway, even within the specific Surakian Logic sect that Spock and his family seem to belong to, there's still opportunity for fun, divisive hobbies among this particular group of Vulcans. We can have judgey Vulcans looking at other Vulcans' weird, harmless antics and saying, "What illogical behavior," while the other Vulcans are judging them back for being illogical in their own opinion. Let Vulcans be REAL nerds: I think that pre-Surak historical reenactment is not an uncommon hobby, both casual LARPing and hardcore reenactment.
It's educational to spin and weave and sew your own pre-Surakian garments! It's educational to forge your own weaponry! It's grounding, like meditation! It is humbling to truly realize the complicated labor involved in fabrication. Even when they were surrendering to their emotional urges, you know, Vulcan ancestors were not completely illogical: they knew how to fashion a comfortable garment well-suited to the desert. Camping in the wilderness and foraging for food connects oneself to nature, teaches about history, and settles oneself in the present.
Also, it's good physical exercise and emotionally cathartic to beat the shit out of each other with foam-wrapped lirpa, screaming at the top of your lungs. It's very logical. There's a medical team on standby, reading on their pads and drinking tea.
You beam down in the wrong part of the desert at the right time and find a bunch of scantily-clad Vulcan warriors (outfits depend on the chosen time period and location) (of all genders) shrieking and rolling in the dirt, until a timer goes off, and then the scheduled mock-battle is over and everyone helps each other up. (Depends how hardcore the group is, of course.) (Also, yeah, obviously, some of these groups have a hook-up culture attached / embedded.) Two bleeding guys who were previously punching each other in the face salute each other and part ways, one to go write a new archeological paper based on his findings here ("Fascinating") and the other to his low-level government desk job ("Most invigorating exercise").
If this happens anywhere near where people live, then the neighbors are shaking their heads and saying to each other, "I don't know how anyone could come to their conclusions and call it logical. Their foundational premises must be flawed." 😐 Some of them while closely watching the entire scandalous affair through binoculars and telescopes, of course. 🤔
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How To Get Roughly 50 Notes On An Original Writing Post And Possibly Net A Single Reader
I had someone ask today how I get people to click through and read my writing, and I'm realizing that I've never actually made a post all in one place of everything I do to get a new piece of short fiction off the ground... so here you go! How to get (some) eyes on your work, even if it is not published anywhere of interest and you don't have a marketing team behind you.
The #1 thing is presentation. You want to get people's attention, and once you have it, convince them to keep paying attention. Fortunately, people tend to be both reasonable and predictable, which means all you have to do is follow The Formula.
(original post link)
Here's the formula from the above post broken down:
[giant horizontal title card, preferably animated to catch the eye] OR [a few tasteful parallels, if you're good at parallel posts]
TITLE (linked to where you can read the piece) / wordcount
a quote that is representative of the tone, themes, prose style, and/or the "promise of the premise"
A longer pitch, featuring the overall subject of the piece (transsexual reality TV drama), any comp titles (Detransition, Baby), the main draw (in this case, watching trans people be awful to clueless cis people), major themes (performance), and any other promises you'd like to make (food romance and tigers). You can see that the quote I chose delivers on the promise of trans people intellectually outperforming cis people-- if I were a reader, I would be more likely to trust that the rest of the pitch was accurate based on that assurance.
If you have any positive reviews on your piece, say so. If it has won any awards or contests, say so. If your work has made people cry, Doja Cat - Say So. Always. Generally speaking, more personal and more detailed is better, but keep it to one or two people-- e.g. "when I gave this to my S/O to read he shot milk out of his nose so far I had to go clean under the couch" or "my favorite review of this piece is the reader who said they read it chapter-by-chapter under their covers because they wanted it all to themself." This should be one sentence.
Depending on where the story is published, what you usually promote, etc., it may be worthwhile saying the story is free. Use your judgment on whether the reader can tell.
I also like putting my links at the bottom so someone seeing this on a friend's dash can easily track me around the 'Net. They make me look more professional (I now include a link to my website) and they visually balance the post, in my opinion. This post also happened to have some additional links for bonus content.
This is not as high stakes as it seems. I'm not 100% happy with the pitch here, and I'm not 100% happy with the graphics I've used in other cases. These are some bones that help to sell the piece even when the details aren't as sharp.
REBLOGGING
When is the last time you read something the first time you saw it on your dash? I schedule reblogs of all important posts at least twice over the next 2-3 days, often three times so I can get the morning/afternoon/evening reblog. If your followers tend to be more active at certain times, go ahead and use those. In the past I've intentionally scheduled posts for times I knew more popular mutuals were active, and it has paid off!
I also schedule a reblog for a week and a month and sometimes even a full calendar year out, because I know there is going to be that person who tags the piece '#to read' and instantly forgets about it, only to get excited when they see it weeks later. I am very often that reader. The goal is to catch people when they're ready to read immediately, and this is a game of chance.
Every so often, I go through my entire #writing or #important writing updates or even just #popular tag(s) and queue two dozen posts before shuffling my queue to redistribute matters. This keeps my older work circulating, ensuring new readers get a chance to see older pieces and giving those older pieces another shot at dashboard space. (More on #popular later.) This sounds like a lot, which is why you have to space everything pretty far apart. Fortunately, this is the world's best site for cool things to reblog. I guarantee you that you can find something new you love to post in the meanwhile.
COPING WITH FAME
The post above is what I, a published author, consider "doing well" for a post about my writing on Tumblr. As of October 10th, 2024, over two years after its initial posting and over five years into my posting doggedly about my original fiction, it has 77 notes. More than half (43) are likes. Around half of the reblogs are me promoting my own work or the same very sweet person dutifully reblogging me every time I do so. Glancing through the reblogs now, I know of four people whom I can confirm have read it. Presumably, there are more who are completely silent and have never interacted with the post whatsoever. Genuinely: wahoo!! I am so grateful and happy for the attention and reception of my work.
This is the number one thing I suggest: focus on what you have, and not what you lack. Imagine your post from the perspective of an outsider: even one reblog means you convinced that one person to spread your art! How cool is that! This is also good advice because moping is simply not helpful; it will not get you more reads. (And no, neither will guilting others. Kill that vent post in your head!)
GETTING FOLLOWERS
I don't have that many followers. Of the followers I do have, people are very unpredictably active. When I hear about other people's follower counts I am consistently surprised, because people with half of mine will have fans and haters the likes of which I could not possibly dream of. I follow 500-follower folk who post "I ate a strawberry today" and get 6 asks ranging from "Wow I respect you so much for eating that strawberry" to "I'm going to come to your address at [REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED] and shove bananas down your throat for hating on my favorite fruit."
I point this out to establish three important things. 1) Be grateful for what you have (in my case, 0 anonymous hate asks about fruitpinions), 2) followers have far less impact on interaction than one might think, and 3) followers don't engage with the things you might like them to.
Think about yourself. Are you more likely to reblog a photo of a cat in a pumpkin (alright, here) or something advertising fifteen minutes' worth of writing, which could be, for all you know, bad? Or, for that matter, by a person you should not like to support? Reblogs on generically interesting things are 'safer' (unfortunately) than reblogs on art, and it makes perfect sense that people are skittish around the latter. People don't often reblog things they haven't read, and nobody can reblog every artpost on their dash. Having someone else put it there, however, is incredibly powerful—someone's vetted this post as Worth a Reblog, after all. Having more followers allows for much more of this.
(Followers don't guarantee any one sort of interaction, but having more of them is rarely bad. Rarely.)
Across my most popular posts, one theme becomes very obvious: people like things that apply to them or their blog. I try to post writing advice/opinions/memes every so often, because I know I have a loyal base of writerfolk who like to see that from me, and it's "easier" to reblog than my writing. This is simply the nature of the universe. I used to pretty frequently go into the #writeblr tag and check out what was recently popular so I could figure out how to serve the same base, and from time to time it worked.
You're welcome to examine the list of #writing posts that made it to 100 notes, because each tends to have a notable reason behind its success: a reblog with an exceptionally good review, a contest win, a wordcount that lends itself to pasting the whole thing in one go.
(Posts about my book's release are a notable exception, in part due to Blaze and in part due to my absolutely relentless flogging of their reblog buttons during the ~year of promotion. Also in large part to a dedicated circle of friends who passed the post around nonstop! Thank you so much!!)
A lot of people will tell you to attempt covert reciprocal promotion. You know—reblog a lot of stuff, in the hopes that people will reblog yours. If I could change one thing on Tumblr, it would be this: the culture that quietly encourages disingenously interacting with other people with a secret True Goal in mind. (On the autism website.)
Please, for the love of all that is good and holy, do not do this. If you comment on other people's work, do it because you're happy to do so. When I released Paper Tigress, I went through everybody else who responded to the same prompt and read their work, because I had the day off and I was curious. This has led to Paper Tigress having more comments on Reedsy than one of my contest winners, and even outranking the shortlisted story in the same prompt category. However, this would have been a waste of my time if I did not genuinely enjoy reading the other stories. I read 80+ stories, taking several hours, and gained 30 comments from the venture (half my comments are my responses).
Crucially, I do not promote other writers' work on Tumblr in the hopes of them reading or boosting mine. This is the #1 tip I see thrown around that I viscerally disagree with. While, again, I am grateful for engagement with my work regardless of the context, I do not want people suffering through my work in the hopes that I will promote them. I work a full-time job, and my reading calendar is perpetually overbooked, including with work by my absolute best of friends. Even if it wasn't, I think it would be quite insulting if I were posting works in the hopes that someone would choke it down like medicine. I post what I think is good so that people can read and enjoy it. If you are not enjoying it, I do not want you to feel as though you have to read it. My aim is to give to others what my favorite authors have given me, which is most certainly not A Bad Time Spent Being Dishonest In The Hopes Of Getting Something Back. You have better things to do with your time. Please be honest.
CONCLUSION
Realistically, the readers I have, I gained through being a published author for five years promoting my behind off on Tumblr, the least forgiving social media for promotion. People like it when you have a book they can buy, especially if it has Goodreads reviews that make it look like you have been vetted for them. Many people who follow me have read only Something's Not Right and nothing else. (Many people who follow me have read everything but Something's Not Right.) I have posted dozens of pieces on Tumblr and Wattpad (and AO3). I gained a small number of readers writing and posting fanfiction for the Locked Tomb Tri(?)logy, even though I marketed it absolutely terribly.
Just keep writing. Keep writing, keep posting, and keep making sure everyone who follows you knows you write. And keep writing because you want to. There's no better advice than that.
#writeblr#writeblr advice#writeblr tutorial#writeblr tips#writeblr community#writing advice#writers on tumblr#important writing updates#txt
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David Gaider on Twitter: "Exciting! Some (completely uninformed) thoughts: A closer alignment with Mass Effect's style was inevitable, I suppose, but means both teams in Edmonton are working from the same premise. Which likely means good things for gameplay, I suppose. It probably also means a more action-y style where you control your PC but don't directly control your two chosen companions. You maybe do "shouts" to direct them in a very general sense. Which I'm less enthused about, personally, but... meh, I guess we'll see. Insofar as the new name goes it's fine, I guess, if the intent is to put less focus on Solas? Which maybe it is. So long as fans don't settle on DAVG as the acronym it's all good. The writing team will knock it out of the park, regardless. That much, at least, is guaranteed. :)" [source, two, three] --- DG: "Patrick and Sheryl remain, yeah, and both Mary and Luke still participated prior to the layoff. So DAV isn't going to hurt, insofar as its writing goes. The old gang was mostly all still assembled." [source] --- DG: "I earnestly believe that Patrick would rather die horribly than not write party banter. It is literally the most fun you can have as a Bio writer." [source] --- Twitter user: "The banters are some of my favourite moments in Dragon Age. So I hope so. I've seen fans saying we'll get less banter due to only have two companions in your team but I don't think that'll be the case." DG: "Less *variety* of banter while out running around, sure. Less *interaction* with the 7 companions? Well, that depends on what happens at your home base. If ME is the template, there was no shortage of companion interactions on the ship." [source] --- DG: "In my experience, EA always favored Mass Effect's style and believed it's inherently more marketable - actual sales numbers of DA or any other more traditional RPG be damned, honestly." [source]
#dragon age: the veilguard#dragon age: dreadwolf#dragon age 4#the dread wolf rises#da4#dragon age#bioware#mass effect#video games#long post#longpost#mass effect 5#solas
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Comic Book Review: Runaways by Rainbow Rowell
Hello, all. Today I will be taking some time to discuss a comic book I enjoy. This is the first in what will hopefully become a series of long-form comic book reviews I'll be writing for this blog as I continue working through my backlog of unread comics as well as ones I'm rereading, both on my own and through me and @bimboficationblues' book club.
I first read the original run of Runaways in digest trade paperback format at my local library when I was in middle school, and the book hit me at the exact right time, since I was pretty firmly the book's target demographic - young, restless, and beginning to grow resentful of the adult authorities in my life. I never read the 2017 revival, as I was not reading comics when I was in high school and college, but I was at my local library - a different one, I don't live in Texas anymore - while waiting for the power in my apartment to come back on due to an outage, and discovered that they carried the full series in trade paperback. I decided to check it out and see how it held up to the original run, and found myself pleasantly surprised by how much I liked it - enough, clearly, to make this post. I'll get into more detail about the 2017 book later in this post, but I'd like to first give an overview of the original series to provide some context for how this book came to be, since it's quite a niche, cult-classic book as far as Marvel titles go.
Part One: Born to Run
At the turn of the century, comic books faced a number of problems. The bottom had fallen out of the industry in the early 1990s due to the burst of the speculator bubble, sending shockwaves that continued to reverberate into the early 2000s. Marvel Comics had nearly been bankrupted and stripped for parts, surviving only by the skin of its teeth, and was only just getting back on its feet. But now, another threat was looming: anime and manga. Imported comics from Japan were beginning to capture a larger and larger market share of comics sold in the United States, fueled by the popularity of Dragon Ball, Sailor Moon, and others on television. Marvel sought to fight back by producing books which would appeal to young fans of these Japanese imports and act as gateway drugs into more standard Marvel fare. Their first effort came in 2000 with the utterly embarrassing Marvel Mangaverse, a group of books which copied superficial and stereotypical aesthetics of manga, without any of the substance.
Just look at this shit, man. Anyway, in 2003, Marvel tried a different approach with their Tsunami imprint. The books in this imprint would also employ art styles that reflected the influence of anime and manga, but would feature character-driven, in-continuity storylines aimed at a variety of age ranges. Among the titles Tsunami would publish was a book written by Brian K. Vaughn (known at the time mainly for his work at DC's Vertigo imprint, including a run on Swamp Thing and his own Y: The Last Man) and illustrated by Adrian Alphona (who would go on to co-develop Kamala Khan with G. Willow Wilson) titled Runaways.
The initial premise of Runaways was really quite brilliant in its simplicity: Alex Wilder, Nico Minoru, Chase Stein, Gertrude Yorkes, Molly Hayes, and Karolina Dean are casual friends bound together mainly because their parents are all friends - actors, engineers, lawyers, and influential people in the Los Angeles area - who gather once a year for a charity event.
As the kids are left bored and alone while their parents meet at Alex's house in Malibu, they find a secret passage and are able to observe their parents at the meeting, learning that, in truth, their parents are a group of supervillains known as the Pride, who control crime and vice in Los Angeles, and who conduct human sacrifices in arcane rituals.
As the kids attempt to discover more about their parents in order to find evidence to bring to the police, they each begin to discover unique powers and abilities: Gertrude has a psychic link with a genetically-engineered deinonychus, Karolina is a light-powered alien with the ability to fly, Molly is a super-strong, super-tough mutant, Chase gains access to powerful technology created by his parents, and Nico is able to summon a magical focus known as the Staff of One when she bleeds, which she can use to cast powerful magical spells, with the catch that she can never cast the same spell twice. Alex, with a genius strategic mind, becomes the group's leader, and with the group learning that the police in LA belong to the Pride, they run away from home and drop off the grid in order to find a way to put a stop to them.
The first volume of Runaways chronicles the kids' conflict with their parents, as well as run-ins with a vampire named Topher and Marvel's original runaway teen superheroes, Cloak and Dagger. Eventually, they learn that their parents were gathered to serve godlike giants called the Gibborim and conduct a ritual which would wipe out all life on Earth, save for six of the Pride - or more specifically, their heirs, the children. The volume ends with the team's climactic confrontation with their parents, as they begin the ritual to end the world, with Alex revealing himself to be a mole in the group and having secretly been on the side of the Pride all along. After Molly disrupts the ritual, the Gibborim arrive and vaporize Alex and kill the Pride, with the kids barely managing to escape. In the aftermath, the kids are placed into foster care, which they promptly run away from, becoming teenage fugitives once again.
The first volume of Runaways lasted only 18 issues, but sales of the digest format trade paperbacks (another thing copied from how manga is distributed in the US) proved so strong that a second volume began publication in 2005, featuring the same creative team. This volume saw the kids continue to evade the police, adult superheroes, and social services. Along the way, they recruit a few new runaways, including Victor Mancha, a cyborg built by the Avengers villain Ultron, and Xavin, a shapeshifting, genderfluid Skrull who imposes themself upon the group as Karolina's fiancee due to a marriage arranged by her parents. They also take a trip to New York City to help clear Cloak's name when he's accused of attempting to murder Dagger. There, they come into conflict with the Avengers, and get sushi with Spider-Man.
Over the course of the second volume, Gertrude is killed in a fight with a reformed Pride made up of a time-displaced version of Alex's father and his MMO friends, and Vaughn's run on the title ends with a story in which Chase, who is grief-stricken after her death, makes a deal with the Gibborim in order to bring her back in exchange for a sacrifice. The deal falls through, and the kids are forced to fight the gods that their parents once served, ultimately managing to defeat and erase the Gibborim from existence.
After Vaughn left the book, unfortunately, Runaways started a long period of decline. He was replaced as writer on the book by Joss Whedon, who penned a couple middling stories, including one where the kids fight the Punisher and the Kingpin, and another where they're flung back in time to 1907 New York, where they recruit the final member of the team, a young mutant and child bride named Klara Prast who can make the flowers grow. Yawn. Volume 2 of Runaways ended with issue 30, and the book was relaunched with a new #1 in 2008, this time with the creative team of Terry Moore (best known for his indie book Strangers in Paradise) and Humberto Ramos (a veritable workhorse whose portfolio speaks for itself, particularly his work on Spider-Man). This brief, forgettable run was followed by a fill-in issue or two by Christopher Yost, and then a final, mediocre arc by Kathryn Immonen which ended the series abruptly on a cliffhanger.
After this, the wilderness years. Characters from Runaways appeared with some regularity - Nico, Chase, and Victor all played major roles in various Avengers spinoff books, none of which suited them particularly well - although in the pages of Avengers AI, Victor would forge a friendship with a reprogrammed Doombot which would play a role later. Mostly, though, it became clear over the years that these characters did not work in normal superhero books, because they were not normal superheroes - they were Runaways. Part of the problem the book had come to face in the later years was a failure to understand that point. The Vaughn run had proven the potential of the characters and concept of the Runaways - they needed a writer who understood that potential, and how to bring it out - and they could have a renaissance.
Then, in 2017, a Runaways TV show premiered on Hulu, to tie into the Marvel Cinematic Universe, and Marvel, for the most cynical and synergistic of reasons, decided to give them that renaissance.
Part Two: It's Only Teenage Wasteland
Runaways volume 5 (volume 4 was an unrelated Secret Wars tie-in) is written throughought by Rainbow Rowell. Rowell's background is in contemporary young adult fiction, which isn't usually my cup of tea, but translates very well to this comic. Runaways, at its core, is not a superhero book- a point which will be made more explicitly later in the series - it is a teen drama with superpowers. Angst, sexual tension, and resentment of authority are all key elements of the series, which Rowell employs effectively throughout. Joining her on art for the initial run of the volume is Kris Anka, who would later go on to be the lead character designer for Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse. Anka's art is colorful and expressive and complements the tone of the series brilliantly. It's probably the best Runaways has ever looked. Of particular note are the outfits Anka designs for the characters, which change from issue to issue and help to characterize each Runaway visually.
The book picks up with the Runaways having split up, with Molly living with her grandmother, Victor having been reduced to an inert, deactivated head following his apparent death in Avengers AI, Karolina in college and dating Julie Power of Power Pack, Klara in foster care, Xavin in space, and Nico in a shitty LA apartment after a brief stint with the all-female A-Force. The inciting incident of the book occurs when Chase appears with a time machine, having recovered the dying Gert from the events of volume 2. Nico is able to use her magic to save Gert's life, and she wastes little time pushing to get the rest of the gang back together.
Of course, two years have passed since Gert died in-universe. Karolina, Nico, and Chase are all adults now, and Molly is a teenager now, happily living with her grandmother. Things changed while Gert was away, and there's no way to go back to the way things used to be.
The first arc of the book establishes some core themes which will continue to be relevant for the rest of its run: change, growing up, and family bonds. Gert is the heart of the book, despite her vociferous denials of that being her role. She is the driving force behind reuniting the Runaways, and her character is explored in this book more than it ever was in the Vaughn run - her negative self-image, which she hides behind an acid tongue, is a recurring focus. Of note is a scene where she discovers that her purple hair, which had previously set her apart and helped her to feel as if there was something special about her, has become a common fashion statement in the time she spent being dead. Her relationship with Chase is also examined - the age gap that now exists between them precludes any resumption of dating, and she eventually gets together with Victor - but Chase still loves her despite himself, and holds out hope that things can change when Gert gets older and the age gap is less of an issue. It's a little creepy, but psychologically understandable, as is his giving into temptation when a future version of Gert appears and practically throws herself at him.
Rowell's focus on character is central to what makes the book work. There are few titanic threats and fewer supervillains; the drama in Rowell's Runaways is driven by the characters and their relationships to one another, which are given a fresh perspective due to the characters having aged and grown since the previous volume of the series. Molly struggles with the idea of growing up and having to face adult fears and responsibilities, especially when her best friend in middle school offers her a way to stay young forever. Nico struggles with the feelings she's realized for Karolina - picking back up a plot thread from Xavin's introductory arc - as Karolina struggles balancing university, supporting the Runaways, and being a good girlfriend, failing at the latter as Julie breaks up with her - but in the process allowing her and Nico to finally have the right timing.
Also complicating matters are Victor's Doombot friend, who becomes a recurring character and joins the main cast in the back half of the series, and Alex Wilder, who has returned as a living corpse, with the children of the Gibborim on his heels. Rowell's portrayal of Alex is one of the series' most interesting aspects, as a young man burdened by his past mistakes and whose inability to acknowledge or account for them prevents any reconciliation with his one-time friends, and leads him to continue making the same mistakes over again. The only bond with the group he is able to maintain is with Molly, the only other Runaway who still misses her parents, and they have some very sweet interactions in a spotlight issue which serves as a look at what things could be like if Alex was willing to own up and atone for how he's hurt the others. His arc is left unresolved, though, for reasons we'll get more into in a bit. Doombot, meanwhile, has a brief storyline in which he comes to grips with his sense of individuality separate from the programming he was given by Doctor Doom, but other than that his primary role in the series is to serve as a caretaker, of sorts, to the kids, as well as a source of consistent comic relief.
That's another thing about this series: it's very funny! Much of the humor is character- and interaction-based, which is very much my style of humor in comics, but there's also some really nice sight gags and creative use of lettering and sound effects to create jokes. A lot of the humor in the original series can be hit-or-miss, in particular a lot of the more dated references, so the humor in this volume is a refreshing change of pace.
Following the fight with the children of the Gibborim - one of whom, Gib, sides with the group and becomes their newest member - the series enters its midpoint, in which Karolina drops out of college and begins moonlighting as a superhero as an unhealthy outlet for her anxiety, which ultimately ends up dragging the other Runaways into the orbit of Doc Justice, one of Los Angeles' premier superheroes, who outfits and equips the group as his new J-Team. I'm conflicted on this arc for a few reasons. The first is that it interrupts what I felt was an interesting arc for Karolina using superheroics as a coping mechanism, which I felt wasn't explored fully before Doc Justice showed up. On the other hand, though, the arc really gives Gert the spotlight after some time of having it off of her, and she's really able to shine as the one Runaway excluded by Doc Justice due to her weight and lack of powers, both key elements of her own negative self-image which haven't gotten a lot of focus since the early arcs of the series. Further, the arc serves to drive home the point that the Runaways are not superheroes and that Runaways is not a superhero book in the traditional sense. Seeing everyone in spandex and responding to distress calls just feels wrong. And Doc Justice is a great villain for the series: a conceited superhero obsessed with fame and media attention, who has systematically arranged the deaths of various teammates over the years in order to maximize sympathy and publicity. It's all very Hollywood. The ultimate downside of the Doc Justice arc, I think, is that after it's done, the series only has seven issues left. The eternal curse of Runaways, to have each volume cut too short, rears its head once again, and in using one of its final arcs to make a meta-commentary on the series as a whole, it sacrifices some opportunities for the character interactions and interpersonal drama that really make the book shine.
The final arc makes an effort to pivot back to that interpersonal drama, including a delightfully fucked-up romance between Chase and a future version of Gert who has traveled back in time to supposedly save him from himself, which blows up as you might it imagine it would once present Gert and Victor stumble across them. There's also a plot thread of Molly, Chase, and Nico helping a visiting Wolverine and Pixie track down a mutant who sent a distress message, in which Nico very nearly kisses Pixie due to her established character flaw of getting caught up in the moment, and it seems like she and Karolina are going to have an honest conversation about it - only for the conversation to instead be about the frankly much less interesting conflict Nico has been facing about the evil sorcerer whose spirit is housed in the Staff of One, and who is taking a piece of her soul every time she casts a spell. It's a conflict that could be interesting if more focus was placed upon it, but it's the subject of one issue prior to this and the end of the series means that it ends up going nowhere beyond Nico entrusting Karolina with the staff in the end. That's a major flaw in this run, though one that isn't entirely its own fault - its abrupt end means plot threads, like future Gert's abduction of Chase, Nico's conflict with the spirit of the Staff of One, and Alex's usurpation of the Doc Justice mantle, are left hanging.
It really is unfortunate, and makes the time spent on the Doc Justice arc, which probably could have taken four issues instead of a frankly indulgent seven, feel even more egregious and unnecessary with hindsight. This series has a leisurely pace, which is good when it allows character interactions and dynamics to stretch out and have maximum impact, but it also means that at the end, when everything has to wrap up relatively quickly due to the amount of time taken in previous arcs, there's a disorienting and frantic energy, like trying to get your room cleaned five minutes before your parents get home. In particular, the last issue crams a ton of stuff in, to an exhausting degree - Karolina summons her people to take her into space and treat her for injuries she sustained in Doc Justice's efforts to martyr her, future Gert enacts her plan to kidnap Chase into the timestream, Gert's time traveling parents show up for some reason, Alex is surveilling the team for reasons unknown, Xavin is now a general of Karolina's people... it's a lot to leave on a cliffhanger.
Rowell's Runaways is a good book, and I do recommend it, either on its own or, preferably, after reading the original 2000s run. It does a great job of moving the characters forward, maturing them, and giving them more adult problems to deal with, while maintaining the series' core themes of identity, questioning authority, and anxiety towards adulthood. It simply doesn't have enough issues left at the end to resolve all of its plot threads, and that is what ultimately holds it back from being great. 38 issues is a good run, better than any volume of Runaways before it was able to achieve, but its pacing choices and the number of plates it attempts to keep in the air leave the reader wanting more.
But, to its credit, it succeeds in making me really care about what that "more" could be.
Part Three: Run Away With Me
Volume 5 of Runaways ended with issue 38, cover date October 2021. It outlasted the TV show it was meant to tie in with by two years - a TV show that was eventually pulled from streaming as a cost-cutting measure. In the years since the series concluded, not much has been happening in that corner of the Marvel Universe. The characters have made few, if any, appearances, and there's been no talk of a sixth volume, despite the plot threads left hanging.
Well, that sucks, you know? Runaways is such a unique series with such a special voice and perspective in superhero comics, and it deserves a place in Marvel's publication roster as much as the millionth Spider-Man or X-Men spinoff does. It has never sold spectacularly, but it has an audience and, crucially, has always been good for its originally intended purpose: giving Marvel a backdoor into the teen and young adult market that has for decades now largely eschewed comic books. Manga sales now account for nearly half of all comics sold in the United States, and while Marvel now mainly serves as an IP farm for adaptation into the much more lucrative MCU, I think there's value in a series like Runaways that's able to tap into that YA market in a way Marvel's other books aren't able to.
I think with the right creative team, Runaways could easily become a solid seller that is able to have a respectable run of issues. Volume 3, as well as the original Vaughn run, prove that this is possible. I would seek out a writer like Mark Waid, whose bread and butter is character work and who was able to revitalize Archie's comic line to appeal to YA readers, or Ryan North, whose Fantastic Four is one of Marvel's best titles right now primarily on the strength of its character dynamics, or David Willis of Dumbing of Age, whose work for the past decade has entirely centered on young adults finding themselves, to take over the reins of a revival, someone with established chops in the genre. Pair them with a quality artist - think Chris Samnee or Todd Nauck, and I think there's a recipe there for a hit.
I hope we see Runaways come back again, sooner rather than later. Another eight year hiatus would be unbearable.
G-d help me, I wanna see these crazy kids again, and see where the road takes them.
FINAL SCORE: 3.5/5. A good comic.
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Friday Nights - Harry Styles x reader. (Dadrry Oneshot).
[The polls revealed that you sweetpeas wanted more dadrry and my ovaries agreed. Hope you guys find it as cute as I do! 💞]
Premise: Harry can't wait to get home to see his favourite girls.
More dadrry / Other writing
Word count: 1.9k / Warnings
🧸
Harry has the entire weekend off- not just a lucky Saturday afternoon- the entire weekend. And he has spent the first 18 hours without empty hands, but the fullest of hearts.
His baby girl- who has long surpassed gaining the skill of walking- has been carried and coddled from the second Harry’s boots hit the hardwood of the entrance hall early Friday evening. The sun has yet to fully set and his whole body is whisked away with excitement at what awaits on the other side of the front door.
At the familiar sound of keys dangling from their slotting in the keyhole, his little petal has dismissed her activity of creating a colourful artwork, crayon still squished between her chubby fingers as her wobbly feet bound over to the front door in pursuit of the mysterious person attempting access.
With the patience she has surely learned from yourself- not Harry- his little 3-year-old is standing in wait, eyes wide with curiosity, her posture still shy and weary of who might enter in a moment.
And when the door becomes ajar, a familiar worn-down leather Gucci boot comes into vision, and then she can see the other boot too- her features prettily framing a painting of the unconditional love she has for her daddy. Those silly boots older than herself are the surest sign of one of her favourite humans stepping into the house.
Giddily, she beams up at him, her chubby ankles balancing her soft feet as she bounces up and down, her body swaying with enthusiasm, her eyes shining with pure excitement.
Harry isn't even halfway through the door when he is confronted by his cute, cheery, tiny toddler, and he feels his shoulders soothingly shrug at the mere sight- unaware of just how happy he is at the blessing of ending his stressful days in the comfort of a home life he never considered a possibility.
Taking a full step into the hallway, Harry is reminded of your existence whenever his babygirl wistfully looks at him. She is the combination of he and your love, and so much more.
Her hair is a little damp, presumably from just having had a bath and some supper. Harry thinks he must have caught her amid playtime, and he hopes tomorrow might offer the opportunity for him to partake in these activities.
And he will, sternly telling you that he hopes you'll take the opportunity to make the weekend your own; tending to tasks, catching up with both friends and binging series, even just using the time to extend your naps, meals, and self-care.
But right now, the bag slung across his shoulder is dropped to the floor, he brushes the edge of the door in an attempt to shut it but cares not if it shuts completely, because a three-year-old- dressed in a pale blue set of jammies decorated in her favourite dinosaurs- is exclaiming, "Daddy" through a burst of enthusiastic giggles.
He takes a step forward, but she is more than willing to meet him in the middle, her tiny toes coming into contact with his boots before he can blink and she tightly wraps her arms around his leg- she only measures up to below his knee- adorably squeezing as tight as she can.
Harry's heart swells so big, he fears he is a balloon filled with so much helium it's begging to burst- but if it bursts, he knows his entire body will become a firework exhibition centred around the theme of how much he unconditionally loves his baby girl.
He does his best to bow closer, wrapping his arms around her, and in true tradition, Harry then lifts her little-ness, helping her balance her feet on the tops of his boots- Harry would have thrown these scuffed, barely stylish boots away if it weren't for the undeniably heart-warming reaction he receives when arriving home.
She now stands atop his shoes, her arms extending up so her hands can be clasped by his, and they are swallowed like a small petal in his palm- so small, he has never seen something-someone- so dainty. Harry slowly takes dance-like steps around the hallway, enthused and cheered on by the cheeky giggles of his daughter enjoying their little 'dance' along the hardwood.
Still humouring and guiding her around, Harry calls out, "'M home, Lovie," seeking out the location of his gift-giver, yourself.
"Hi, Bubs!" You call, and by the distance in your voice, Harry knows you're probably in the kitchen- which is confirmed mere seconds later, "'m in the kitchen", you coo, "felt like making spring rolls…", you pause, "It's still undecided if I'm succeeding or not."
Harry chuckles softly, eager to enter the kitchen and see exactly what you're on about, and by now, the easily distracted toddler has released him, bumbling on about wanting to show her daddy the latest masterpiece she will soon add to her collection.
He certainly will, "How 'bout you show me, and then we can draw another one together?"
She sillily but seriously considers it, her hand stroking her chin as if the fate of the world is balancing atop her ten fingers. Harry thinks he sees himself in her, he thinks he sees himself in you, and loving you has surely rubbed off on him.
Eventually, his sassy three-year-old tells him- with humorously, adorable certainty- "Yes."
Harry's chest lulls with love as he tells her, "Need to say hi to mummy first, okay?"
She nods avidly, "I'll start without you." To which Harry laughs aloud and begins the task of removing his boots.
Harry trails down the hallway, his sock sliding along the hardwood, his eyes glancing over the array of framed photographs- ones of himself and you, of the baby, pets, family and friends.
As he rounds the corner, the aroma of freshly chopped cabbage and carrots invades his senses, and said senses go into overdrive as his eyes land on the loveliest of things; his partner, partially hidden as you stand behind the kitchen island, slicing an avocado, humming along to soft sound of 'Hand Me Downs'.
He finds himself behind you so fast, like a fugue of neediness had taken over and he had to tend to it. You hum in contentment, body sinking back into his chest, still chopping with nonchalance as his arms carefully, but desperately, wrap around your waist, his hands mindlessly shifting the material of your clothes to ensure skin-on-skin contact.
He wants to be near- just for a moment- softly peppering kisses along the nape of your neck, and when you shudder, he huffs out with an overload of admiration. His little pecks seem successful as you finally discard your dinner prep, placing the knife on the counter before twirling your body around to face Harry.
His smile is bright and matches his eyes, unintentionally encouraging your features to mirror his as you tilt up onto your toes in favour of giving him a good smooch,
"Hello, my Darling." You address, pressing your lips to the corner of his own.
"Missed you, Lovie." He says before going in for a proper kiss; pecking you one, two, three times before he is smiling so much that it becomes hard to call this kissing.
You giggle against his lips, giving him one last kiss before tilting back less than an inch to let him know, "Missed you more."
"Liar." He chuckles, tilting his neck to the ceiling, giving you the opportunity for a cheeky nip of his chin. Harry's body jolts with pleasant surprise, hand sliding down your lower back to give your denim-clad bum a good squeeze.
And then perhaps the sassiest and cutest demand comes echoing down from the room over, "Excuse me!" which only has the pair of you a soft chuckling mess.
You gently stroke the nape of Harry's neck, nails scraping the nearest tufts of his hair, "Y' better get going." a final kiss to both cheeks and his lips before you remind him, "Your Highness awaits."
Harry nods along with a swift tap to your bum cheek and a kiss to your forehead as he leaves the kitchen in pursuit of the art gallery that is guaranteed to be covering the walls of the games room.
She is already seated at her little yellow table, her collection of colourful markers, pencils, and glitter pens are all neatly lined up on the right, and she has a pile of complete artworks stacked on the left. In the centre is an A4 pink piece of cardboard already covered in streaks of black marker.
Continuing to scribble, she makes a small gesture for Harry to pull up a seat next to her. He does so, untucking the chair he knows will do a useless job at holding his height, nevertheless, he settles in easily- a product of this being a recurring event- turning his body to signal his attention is entirely hers.
For the next twenty minutes or so, Harry enthusiastically reacts and admires his little one's creations, and then he follows her to the puppy's bed, letting her show off the new toy she chose for their golden retriever to sleep with this evening, then Harry helps her up the stairs, gently hoisting her up, her legs wrapping around his hips, her head curling into his chest.
She instructs him to go to her bedroom, only loosening her grip as he slowly dips to place both her and himself upon her bed. Out of his hold, her little legs crossed, feet wiggling with excitement, patting the spot next to her for her daddy to occupy.
Harry could never say no to that- for starters, it was challenging enough saying it to you- his body shuffling closer, shifting to suit her wishes until she is happily cradled across his chest, his hip awkwardly pressed into the mattress, shoulder twisted unpleasantly, but he has no cares to give.
She wants him to tell her a story. Sometimes she wants to hear about him having fun with his friends, or how he and mommy met and fell in love, other days she wants him to make one up tonight, she wants to hear about his singing.
She asks simple, scattered questions, mostly unrelated to the one before and after. Slowly they delay and his answers add an extra drone, she is getting rather comfy, cuddling up into the crook of Harry, sharing this contentedness with such sleepiness that he knows he is sure to follow.
Downstairs, admiring your dinner, you are quite proud of the final results of your spring rolls. Patience and persistence certainly has its perks. If your phone were nearby, you would be tempted to take a picture, but you have something better; a handsome husband who will soon praise you in wonderment as he scarfs down your proud work.
After a brief stroll through the living room and the games room, you patter your way up the staircase and make a beeline for her bedroom. As expected, you find your favourite duo, but what wasn't expected was the sigh of Harry cradling a sleeping toddler.
She is sleeping soundly, her little wrists and ankles scrunched, her face with a naturally concentrated brow furrow- just like her father. Harry has one arm wrapped around her, his head tucked behind her own, laying obscurely but looking cosier than ever.
#im so stoned#need to edit#lmao#elioslover#harry styles x reader#harry styles fic#harry styles one shot#harry x reader#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x you#harry styles blurb#harry styles imagine#harry styles#dadrry#dad!harry#harry styles fluff
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I DO 😭 SO MUCH 🤌😫🫶❤️🩹
I lost a fanfic i saw on here and wanted to read later since i really loved the idea but i lost it!
Please help me find again, i can't seem to find it ;_;
Basically: luci got a fraction of gods power when he fell (as a gift and punishment?), that being he can look into souls and their sins or trauma? He ends up having to use it on Alastor and work through several revelations
Sadly i don't remember more but please if you remember what the fic was or have a hunge tell me, thank you 🥲
#IT'S ONE OF MY FAVS#I CAN'T WAIT FOR THE NEXT CHAP#AUTHOR I JUST LOVE UR PREMISE UR WRITING STYLE UR CHARACTERISATION - EVERYTHING!!!!#ESPECIALLY HOW LUCI IS /OLD/ AND POWERFUL#AND BOTH OF THEM SO SO DAMAGED BUT ALSO SO HUMAN#AND AL *SCREAMS*#I JUST CAN'T#Radioapple#Al is just such a hard character to write and you naaaaaaaaail it 😭🫶
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HERMIT A DAY MAY - DAY 2
Xisuma x Dethklok
I drew Xisuma in the style of a Dethklok music video!
I picked this one for him because X is a big fan of metal and I am a big fan of Dethklok, a fictional death metal band from the show Metalocalypse. Even though the band is fictional, they produce real metal and their music is great.
Warning: Metalocalypse is hilarious but also very adult, with graphic depictions of violence and inappropriate themes - this extends to a much of Dethklok's music and music videos as well, so please be aware of that if you decide to look them up. Obviously I wont be posting anything like that here.
If you want to learn more about Metalocalypse and Dethklok, or just want to see my style references, keep reading below the cut!
Dethklok is a fictional band created by Brendon Small and Tommy Blacha. Small both writes and is the main performer for the band. The band, consisting of 5 members that don't actually exist, are stars of the show Metalocalypse.
In the show, Dethklok has become so popular that they control the entire planet. Nearly every episode ends with the band performing one of their original songs, which somehow causes horrific violence to everyone listening. However, since they are idiots, they also seem oblivious to the destruction their awesome, face-melting, eldritch-beast-summoning music causes...or they just don't care because they're ultra wealthy megastars.
The show heavily, but lovingly, satirizes the metal scene and, less lovingly, the music industry and celebrity in general. The over-the-top gore is played for laughs, but the characters are interesting and endearing. There is genuinely a lot of heart under all that growling and corpse paint and a lot of care goes into their (often very funny) music.
If you are interested in checking out their music and want a PG track, I recommend Go Into the Water. This is one of their few non-violent music videos (big epilepsy warning though) and there's no profanity or graphic imagery in the lyrics. The premise of the song is that the band realized that fish can't listen to metal because they're in the ocean, and they thought that was sad, so they set up a concert just for the fish.
Style references:
Set design/aesthetic from Black Fire Upon Us (this song is awesome and was my primary design reference, but the music video is VERY violent, so be warned)
Nathan Explosion's evil DnD paladin fit also from Black Fire Upon Us
Dethklok's band logo
#can you tell I really like Dethklok?#I tried not to info dump too hard#I LOVE how X turned out tho I think he looks so cool!#and trust me#him looking scary but actually being really funny and likeable 100% fits with the whole Dethklok thing#and with metal fans in general in my experience#hermitaday#xisuma#xisumavoid#hermitcraft
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New Horizons (Arthur Curry x Reader)
─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ⋅☆⋅ 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─
A/N: Requested by @dantes-devil-huntress. I can't believe this is my first Aquaman fic! This was so much fun to write, I hope you enjoy!
Premise: Trying to figure out his place in the world as the newly crowned king of Atlantis, Arthur meets someone who may just help him find the answers he looking for.
Description: Arthur Curry/Aquaman x Fem!Reader (Human), meet-cute fluff! | Warnings: alcohol, mild language | Setting: AU w/o Mera endgame, before The Lost Kingdom | Word count: 3,468
Edit: here's my Orm Marius x Reader fic for my fellow Orm girlies ;)
Gif credit: user jasonmomoaonline
Imagine Arthur giving you shelter when you're stranded in a storm, and discovering his true identity
Getting stood up for your date had been the worst part of the night, until the moment you got into your car. Instead of the engine turning over and sputtering to half-life like usual, it only stalled.
"You have got to be kidding me," you say, gripping the steering wheel and turning the key until you thought it might snap, "Come on, come on, come ON!"
Throwing open your door, you pop the hood and stumble back out into the chilled night. You mutter curses under your breath as you survey the labyrinth of steel and hoses before you.
"At least nothing's on fire this time," you mutter, rolling your eyes.
You step back and stare at the bucket of bolts the salesman had called "like new." Besides coming to this bar, buying this car was quite possibly your biggest regret. It wasn't quite a lemon, but it wasn't a Rolls either. And most of all, it was all you could afford.
You exhale, glaring up at the flickering light of the bar's neon sign. The last thing you wanted to do after waiting nearly two hours alone like a fool was show your face inside again. You retrieve your phone from your back pocket, just to see the blinking bars in the top corner. No service.
"Wonderful," you groan.
Like a bad joke, thunder rolls in the distance. You look up to see the lightning flashing on the horizon across the bay. The brisk, salt air rises up from the water and cuts right through you.
"Could this night get any better?!" you lament, an angry shriek escaping your lips as you kick the front tire.
"Excuse me, Miss?" a voice from behind interjected.
You jump and turn to see a man approaching, nervous smile on his bearded face. You appraise him wearily: tall, dark, and not at all lacking in style, clad in both leather and jewelry. He looked a sight better than the drunken fishermen you'd observed stumble about the bar, which you concluded was about ninety-percent of the clientele. Even from where he stood, he certainly seemed to smell better.
"Uh, I don't mean to interrupt, but you sound like you might need some help," he offers hesitantly.
Despite your initial scare, something about him puts you at ease.
"Oh, um...yeah, actually" you smile embarrassed, tucking your hair behind your ear, "My stupid car won't start. Again."
"Mind if I take a look?" he asks, pointing.
"Would you? That would be great, honestly," you say, folding your arms against the cold, "I just had it in the shop last week. I have no idea what's wrong now."
He pats the fender as he circles around to the front, "Let's see what's got you all clammed up here, buddy."
"Your guess is as good as mine," you say exasperated, stepping to stand behind him a ways.
He chuckles and pushes up his sleeves, ducking underneath the hood. You take note of the intricate tattoos, realizing this friendly stranger was becoming more interesting by the minute.
"Hmm, nope. Not that," he says, craning his neck, "Not that either."
You bite your lip and sway on your feet, silently praying he could find the source of the problem. Any easy fix was probably too much to hope for, but your fingers stayed mentally crossed nonetheless.
"Ooh, maybe- no, definitely not," he says, followed by a clinking sound, "That should not be there."
"I really appreciate this," you say after a moment, peering over his shoulder, "I can change the wipers and put on a spare if I have to, but that's about the extent of my car expertise."
"No shame in that," he grunts, his voice strained, "Oof, now that might be a problem."
"Did you find something?" you dare to ask.
"These spark plugs are kaput. Like, 'not even a necromancer can bring them back' kind of kaput."
"The guy said they were fine!" you exclaim, "I knew I shouldn't have gone back to that place. Probably just took my money and laughed."
The man finally stands up and winces.
"And your alternator is on its last leg," he says with a grimace, "Even if you could get it to start, I wouldn't go more than five miles in this thing."
"Great. That's just wonderful," you sigh, shaking your head, "Well, thank you for looking. It'd have taken me forever to figure that out. Google only goes so far."
"No problem, wish I had better news for ya," he says, wiping his grease-tinged hands on his jeans before extending one towards you, "I'm Arthur, by the way."
"I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you, Arthur."
"Nice to meet you too."
Despite your frustration, you couldn't help but grin. As Good Samaritans go, he was quite a handsome one. Something in the back of your mind whispered that you had seen his face before, but you couldn't place when or where.
Before you could speak again, a bolt of lightning strikes just across the harbor, followed swiftly by a crash of thunder.
Arthur looks off to the darkened horizon, his expression souring with concern.
"Storm's coming in fast," he observes, the sea breeze blowing through his long, sun-kissed hair, "Do you have someone you can call to come pick you up?"
He turn back to you, and only now do you notice just how rich and golden eyes his eyes are. For a few dizzied seconds, you forget to answer.
"Uh, not really. I'm pretty new to the area. I don't know very many people," you reply, feeling shy all of a sudden, "I can just call a Uber or something. If my service ever picks up."
"Yeah, definitely," he nods, clearing his throat, "They have a phone inside."
"Thank you again for helping me, Arthur," you say, starting to walk towards the door.
"I didn't really help, though..." he trails off, disappointment in his voice as you step past him.
Your hand is almost on the handle when he pipes up.
"Uh, look I know you don't know me, but my dad's place is just down the road from here. He's the lighthouse keeper. Him and my mom are actually away on little retreat, and I'm watching the place for them," he explains, "It's dry, warm, and definitely has a lot less drunk guys. You could wait there while the storm passes, if you wanted."
You turn back to him, trying to conceal your renewed hope, "I couldn't impose on you like that."
"Oh you wouldn't be. It's just me and the dog. He's probably getting sick of me at this point. He could use a visitor," he chuckles, "But I understand if you'd rather stay here. Strange guy at a bar invites you to a lighthouse on a dark and stormy night. Sounds like a horror movie, I know."
You laugh, and so does he, bringing some much needed levity.
"I'll bring you right back if you change your mind, just say the word," he adds, sounding truly sincere.
Almost everything in you was saying not to trust a man you'd just met, but your gut was telling you otherwise. There was more to the warmth in his eyes than just the color.
"Well, it does sound like the dog could use some company," you say thoughtfully.
Arthur smirks. "Oh yeah. There's been a Hell's Kitchen marathon on for days, and I'm pretty sure he's sick of listening to my Gordon Ramsay impression. I can't resist, love that guy."
"I might have to hear that for myself."
"Let's get you out of this weather, and we'll see what I can do about that, then," he says with a wink, "My ride is just over here."
Not even the chilled wind could overcome the warmth of your cheeks. The excitement in your chest grows with every step as you follow him across the sandy lot. The ride in question, however, soon comes into view, and the knot in your stomach tightens all the more.
"Oh boy," you say, staring at the motorcycle.
"You're not scared of bikes are you?" he questions, stepping alongside it and reaching into the black saddlebag.
"Not exactly," you hesitate, "I've just never been on one before."
He pulls out a red, half helmet and offers it to you.
"Don't worry, I won't let you fall off," he replies, amused.
You look between him and the headgear a moment before taking it.
"Besides," he says, swinging his leg over the seat, "All you have to do is hang on."
With no argument to make, and rain drops beginning to sprinkle down, you pull your hair back and fasten the helmet on. You nearly lose your balance trying to throw your leg over, having to grab his shoulder to steady yourself. He didn't seem to mind; you could have sworn you heard him snicker. You settle into the seat, heart racing from being so close to him. More anxious than ever, you lightly place your hands on his back.
"All good back there?" Arthur asks, a smile in his voice.
"All good," you repeat, unconvincingly.
"Alright then," he says, turning the key.
Seconds later, the motorcycle roars to life as he revs the engine. Arthur eases the bike back slowly, pivots out of the lot, and eases it up to the main road. The instant he accelerates, the force kicks you backward. You throw your arms around his torso, pulling yourself against him. Over the noise of the machine, you weren't sure if the rumbling in your ear that followed was thunder or laughter, but you figured was the latter.
With the bar now behind you, and the rain coming down harder with the increasing speed, you bury your face into his back and hold on tightly.
♆
The lighthouse comes into view just as the skies open up. Arthur maneuvers the bike up the slippery, sand driveway and quickly shuts it off. He gives you his hand as you climb off and leads you toward the house.
The helmet offers some protection from the downpour, but the wind blows the spray into your face as you squint to see. Lightning above illuminates the world like daylight as you scramble up onto the porch.
Arthur throws the front door open and lets you in first as you stumble inside the dark house. You take a few blind steps forward as he slams it shut behind him, thunder making the windows rattle.
"Man, someone must have really pissed off Thor," he laughs. His relief, however, is turned to exasperation as you hear a clicking sound followed by a sigh.
"Power's out. Awesome."
Still trying to catch your breath, you pull out your phone, struggling with wet fingers to use touchscreen. Finally the flashlight turns on, and Arthur throws his hand up over his eyes as you accidentally shine it right at his face.
"Sorry," you pant, pointing it down.
"No worries. That's a good idea, actually. I always forget about this thing," he remarks, grabbing his own phone and doing the same, "One second, I think Pops has some candles in the kitchen."
You nod as he disappears into the next room. Now remembering the dripping helmet on your head, you release the strap with your free hand and set it down on the mat beside the door. A shiver goes through you from your soaked clothes. You point your phone about the shadowy room to get your bearings, admiring the otherwise cozy living area. As you sweep the light downward, something large and metallic glints on the coffee table in front of the sofa and catches your eye. You move closer to get a better look, and then your heart drops to your feet. Lying beside a bag of jerky and the TV remote is a massive, gleaming trident of gold. A memory flashes through your mind of an article you'd seen weeks ago, with a fuzzy photo of an alleged aquatic hero holding a weapon just like it. The pieces come together all at once as you realize the identity of your host.
The very next second, you hear Arthur's approach. He returns with a lit candle in each hand and a blanket under his arm, only to find your expression of complete and utter shock.
"You...you're..." you stammer.
"Oof, I knew I forgot to put something away," he cringes, "My bad."
"You're the Aquaman," you gape, finding the words.
"Surprise," he says in a sing-song voice, flashing a nervous smile, "Yeah, I never really know how to bring that up.
You stare at him dumbfounded as he places the candles on the coffee table. "I can't believe it. Aren't you supposed to be like...well, in Atlantis or something?"
"I was, earlier this morning. Just about died of boredom in council meetings," he says matter-of-factly, proceeding to talk as if he had a desk job, "I'm kinda part-timing right now, between land and sea. It's complicated. I'm still new to the whole 'king' thing. Don't have all the kinks worked out yet."
"I'd imagine," you breathe, your mind still reeling.
"Here, figured you need this." He holds out the blanket, completely unphased by the previous subject, "Do you drink tea? I can make some for you."
You take the blanket and chuckle in bewilderment. "Um, sure. That would be great," you answer, "Thank you."
"One tea coming up," he smiles, "Uh, just make yourself comfortable, I'll get the fire going here a minute, after I find the dog. Pretty sure he's hiding under Pops' bed upstairs. He's terrified of storms. Ironic right? Lighthouse keeper's dog afraid of a little water."
"I don't blame him this time," you say, wrapping the blanket around your shoulders, "I think you were right about Thor."
As if on cue, another boom of thunder shakes the walls. You both burst out laughing.
♆
A few minutes later, you find yourself sitting on the floor in front of a roaring fire with a warm mug in your hands, finally beginning to feel dry. Having been unsuccessful in coaxing the dog into joining him downstairs, Arthur settles down beside you crossed-legged, damp hair tied up, trading the tea for a can of Guinness. Your thoughts rage like the storm outside as you stare into the flames, agonizing about what you should say.
Arthur speaks a moment later, saving you the trouble.
"Sorry about the power. I'll call you that cab as soon as it comes back."
"That's okay, I'm not in a hurry," you reply.
You look over at him hopefully, meeting his piercing gaze for as long as you can. Mere seconds pass before you bow your head, heart racing while you repress a smile.
"I'm uh, sure you've got some questions about all this," he ventures, rubbing the back of his head.
"Honestly, with the night I've had, meeting 'Aquaman' is par for the course," you smirk.
"I didn't mean to spring it on you like that. I guess you can understand why I don't lead with the whole King of Atlantis thing. Kinda makes it hard to keep a conversation going once people know you 'can talk to fish.' They don't really see you the same after that."
"Yeah, I think I'd probably keep that to myself too," you agree, the awe returning full-force, "Still, it must be amazing. I mean, you're basically ruler of the ocean, right? Or is it just Atlantis?"
"Eh, I mean there's the other kingdoms-"
"There's more?!" you blurt out, wide-eyed.
"Oh yeah. Xebel, the Fishermen, the Brine, a couple of defunct ones no one wants talks about. We got a few."
"And you're the ruler over all of them?"
He shrugs. "More or less. I mean, they each have their own ruler. But then I'm also over them? Kinda? I'm still figuring crap out, they didn't exactly give me a rule book on my first day. Plus I have to answer to this royal council and they've got sticks up their butts about everything I do and say," he groans, rolling his eyes, "I like to consider myself more of a 'protector of the deep' than a ruler. Sounds more cool, and less like an old fart with a crown."
You giggle, hanging on every his every word.
"And with this bad boy right here," he says, reaching behind him and patting the trident, "I command all life in the sea. The animals anyway. Between you and me, that's the best part."
"You definitely have a cooler job than me," you beam.
"It definitely has its perks. But most of the time, I'd rather be here," he sighs, punctuated by a swig of his beer.
A visible sadness washes over him as he looks into the fire.
"You aren't from Atlantis?" you question.
"No, I was raised by my father. My parents met on accident. My mother was queen of Atlantis, and she ran away from her not-so-nice guy fiancé. She got lost in a storm, and my father rescued her. They've always said it was..."
Arthur stops and turns his gaze towards you, realization in his eyes.
Your heart skips as you understand. "Fate?"
He nods thoughtfully. "Something like that."
You blink, letting him go on.
"Anyway, I know I have a calling to the sea, but the land is always going to be a part of me, you know?" His expression softens. "Here, I've always found everything I need."
His words linger in the air between you. You look down at your hands, your chest pounding.
He clears his throat. "Sorry, I know that was a lot of info."
"Just a little bit," you reply teasingly, "But your secret's safe with me, Arthur. I promise. I've got no one to tell anyway."
"Don't worry, I trust you," he says, waving his hand, "It's actually nice to have someone else to share it with."
"I'm honored that you did. I know it's not the same, but I do understand what it's like to feel that you don't belong," you confess, "I didn't fit in my 'kind' either. Moved out here to start over. I guess you could say I'm still trying to figure some crap out too."
He pauses in thought second before responding, "Do you mind if I ask you something, Y/N?"
"After everything I've asked you? I'd say it's definitely your turn," you chuckle, taking a sip of your forgotten tea.
"I saw you at the bar before you went outside. I couldn't help but notice that you were there by yourself..."
"You noticed correctly. I was supposed to meet someone for a date, but after saying he was on his way, he never showed. I tried to text him, but he blocked me. I don't even know why."
"Nothing like being stood up at some backwater bar," he concludes, frowning, "Well, screw that guy. He's a bum."
"Yeah, I figured that out too late," you agree, then give him a knowing look, "The evening wasn't a total loss. I did meet you, after all."
"That's true," he concedes, playfully stroking his beard, "I may be a half-breed rookie king, but I'm not a bum."
You snort and gesture to the television set on your right, "So much for your marathon though, huh?"
"Ah, that's alright. They were all re-runs anyway."
You raise your eyebrow. "Think I could still hear that impression?"
He holds a finger to his chin in mock deliberation, "Hmmm, have I had enough to drink for that?
"I don't know, have you?" You lean in with anticipation.
He flashes a sly grin. "Of course I bloody have," he declares in the most hackneyed attempt at a British accent you'd ever heard, "And you better listen up, because I'm about to tell you everything there is to know about how to cook a bloody good flounder."
Your sides ache with laughter as he continues to go on a tangent about how to properly sauté shallots and season the perfect demi-glace. The voice sounded nothing like the infamously tempermental chef, of course, but you still thought his attempt was cute. By the time he was yelling at his invisible staff for serving him raw fish, the storm outside had passed, and neither of you noticed.
As Arthur went to light the stove to warm up some "gourmet" SpaghettiOs, still boisterously carrying on as Chef Ramsay, your excited thoughts returned to the story about his parents. You couldn't help but wonder about your own stormy night, the man you had met, and how much of a hand fate had played in it. The horizon seemed so much brighter than before, and for the first time ever, you were grateful to have bought that car.
#arthur curry x reader#aquaman x reader#aquaman imagine#arthur curry imagine#aquaman and the lost kingdom#jason momoa#arthur curry#aquaman 2#aquaman fanfic#my writing#request
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Brave Bang Bravern!: A Review for Transformers Fans
I've seen so much about this on my dash that I had to give it a try, and I gotta say, as someone who hasn't watched any new anime series since around 2008 at the most recent and I also hate the fucking military, this is a pretty good show.
THERE WILL BE SOME MILD SPOILERS. Nothing major. I'm not gonna spoil anything critical or mention characters that are introduced later etc. At of time of writing, only 6 episodes have been released.
Understanding Genre: The Trailer is A Lie
Now, while there is a trailer here, I want you to largely disregard it.
Why is that? Well, we need to talk about the "big two" robot show genres in Japan, which are as follows:
Real Robot -- This refers to a typically military setting or other serious setting, in which robots are handled as realistically as possible in terms of how they work and how they are applied. There tend to be less individual/sentient robots and more "suit" type mechs right along side human-made, more realistic machinery and mech designs, although that isn't entirely unique to this genre. Usually this stuff is labelled as sci-fi/action outside of Japan.
Super Robot (THIS IS THE SHIT TRANSFORMERS FANS GENERALLY WANT) --Essentially borderline seemingly magical robots with their own rules and in universe backstory for how they work, which isn't necessarily tied to realism. Usually this stuff is labelled as sci-fi/fantasy or space fantasy outside of Japan, since a lot of these tend to be space robots. They can be "driven" by pilots or just straight up sentient robots who are vibing with some human companions, although it's not exclusively that. It can be both, it can be neither, but no matter what, Super Robot shows are less about strict realism and more about really cool shit with robots that are basically their own people and exist according to their own rules.
Now, the trailer for BBBB (the acronym for the show is based on the Japanese title, which is Bang Brave Bang Bravern) is a COMPLETE FUCKING LIE.
It wants you to think this is going to be some dumbass GI Joe shit.
While there are elements of dumbass GI Joe shit, this is largely just to set up the premise for why shit is happening in the first place, and to help introduce the main threat (alien space creatures with fucking light beam lasers) as well as bring in our main characters under the premise of everyone having to work together to address this alien threat to Earth.
What we care about here amongst Transformers freaks is gay space robots, and this show delivers.
Getting Into Bravern: First Episode, Mild Plot Spoiler Summary
It wants you to think this is a Real Robot show.
The first episode sets things up as though it will be a Real Robot show.
There is a threat to Earth, a mystery space alien mechanical enemy, and nobody knows what the fuck to do. A military exercise between multiple nations using Titanostriders (which look very much like Shiro Masamune Appleseed-style mechs, human made in nature) to practice battle drills who are now instructed to swap over to real ammunition and go to fucking town.
Nobody knows how to do that.
They're skilled with the Titanostriders, sure, but it turns into a shit show. The alien mechanical enemies are using fucking space laser shit, it's a disaster---
--And then Bravern drops in from the fucking sky and it IMMEDIATELY TURNS INTO A SUPER ROBOT SHOW.
There's a "get in the robot, Shiji" moment where one of the Titanostrider operators, Isami Ao, is encouraged by Bravern to get inside of him.
He does. And immediately has no idea what the fuck is going on, Bravern is largely in control, and starts to blast his own theme song inside his cockpit as diegetic music while Isami is generally losing his shit, as one might do.
Humanity's reaction to Bravern is Real Robot genre type, where it is handled seriously by all the characters and organisations involved in universe, however Bravern is very much a Super Robot genre character who brings more of a Super Robot energy to the show at large.
The serious elements are mostly balanced by how fucking silly Bravern is, and there are some excellent moments in this show (currently only 6 episodes have been released) which make it entirely worth a watch.
Fun Things About Bravern Himself
Braven is very, very, very gay for his pilot.
Chances are, you've seen the screenshots of some of these moments on Tumblr already, but the delivery of these lines is magnificent.
Bravern sings his own theme song. It's the voice actor for Bravern doing the vocals, and the song itself is reminiscent of 1970s orchestrated big band energy mecha themes. For Transformers fans, it has a very Transformers Victory theme kind of vibe to it.
You gotta hear it, it fucking rules. The album cover shows Bravern holding a giant microphone.
Bravern is generally light hearted, doing his best to motivate his pilot while not hesitating to enter the action and try to defend humanity.
Now, why does Bravern care about humans so much? We don't know, but we'll talk about some mysteries in a later section below.
He is surprisingly insightful at times, while also fucking around and enjoying himself. (You may have seen screenshots going around Tumblr of Bravern with a loop of hot dogs strung around one of his chevron points on his forehead. This follows a scene in which he wants his pilot to take a break and associate with his peers for once, as a way to relieve stress. So they go to a bar, it turns out reception is positive and someone even brings weenies out for Bravern since he's too big to fit inside, lol.)
Generally, he's a very interesting mech, because we have so little information about him. He's fun, and clearly vibing, but he's also borderline if not outright obsessed with his pilot and has unknown origins, which has lead to some darker interpretations and audience discussion.
A lot of people have compared Bravern's energy to Rodimus, and generally I would agree with that. He has his high-energy silly moments, and his more serious personal moments (primarily with Isami, but also with Smith), and I think these aspects of his character work well to create a fun mech with the potential to be deep in a believable and effective way, with an equal capacity for being a doofus.
Bravern is obviously the number one reason to watch the show for most people, and I would say that if you're purely here for a giant gay space robot, then this is going to be a decent watch.
The Military Sucks: There Are Militaries Involved Yet Somehow This Is Still Watchable
I hate the fucking military, so at least the military here is depicted in an acceptable way (so far, at least). In episode 2, they waterboard Isami to interrogate him for information he doesn't have regarding Bravern, which is a realistically shitty and awful thing for the military to do-- They don't sugarcoat how fucked up the military is. These people very much have the capacity to harm their own staff, and they will do so if it means they might get an edge over the enemy.
At the same time, the actual characters in the military are depicted as primarily doing this shit out of a genuine personal desire to defeat these horrendously destructive space entities, which have attacked at least some of their home towns and home countries, so it's more personal rather than purely being a military directive that people are being forced to follow.
In this way, it's not really realistic, but everyone is on board for their own largely humanitarian aid type of reasons (there is a mission which is basically just locating survivors of an attack and then getting the fuck out) which makes the military context feel less oppressive and shitty.
Part of why this is more OK than other military depictions is because the military forces involved here are international (collaborating to defeat a global threat rather than kill each other's civilians) and because the military is clearly losing this war.
Because it's an international effort, this brings more diversity to the show-- There's a surprising amount of English interspersed between dialogue in Japanese here and there, and the military board consists of representatives from multiple nations, including some Germans who at first believe Bravern is some kind of secret American operation, lmao.
Bravern calls the military out on its shit, and essentially tells the military board to stop with the suspicious infighting bullshit and drop the internal tension because otherwise they'll all die to this mechanical nightmare creature threat.
They actually listen, which means this is an unrealistic portrayal of the military, lmao. I think they struck a good balance so far between showing that the military sucks and has problems, while also making sure that you're not really cheering for any given military force, but rather, you cheer for individual characters who just happen to be stuck doing this military shit as a premise for anything to be going on in the show at all.
So it's not the worst when it comes to the military shit; At least so far, it's watchable, which as someone who passionately hates the fucking military, is surprising to me.
It's less GI Joe and more "we just needed a reason for these characters to be involved in this situation".
Of course, your mileage may vary, but personally I found it easy to tune out or just skip through any military shit that got grating and I didn't miss anything important by doing so. At the very least, you can skip around and ignore a lot of this stuff and get right to the gay robot if that's all you want to do. It becomes clear pretty quickly what's going on if you skip around a bit, so no worries there.
Fun Speculation: What is Bravern?
Only 6 episodes are out at the moment, so there's tons of shit we don't know yet.
Bravern has a notable resemblance to a type of enemy in the show, called a Death-Drive.
Death-Drives are mecha who are distinct from the "minion" type enemies (which almost resemble flying saucers with laser gun arms and light shields), and have their own unique character designs and names.
Why these things are here, how they are here, why they are interested in Earth, and everything else is currently unknown.
Bravern looks like he could possibly be of the same mechanical species, although we don't know if that's true (yet). He has abilities that the other mecha don't seem to have, but how far this goes and what it might mean is not yet clear.
Bravern also seems to have knowledge of human media (he references The Abyss at one point and he likes 3D printing figures of sentai show characters lmao), and was immediately able to speak to the humans using language they would understand, so it's unclear if Bravern may have been studying Earth for some time before his arrival or why.
He is obsessed with his pilot and cares for him so much that he extends some care towards others purely based on their relation to Isami as co-workers; Why? What makes Isami special?
How does Bravern know seemingly every human language? How does his piloting system work? How similar is he to the Death-Drives-- Are organic beings critical to them in some way? If so, why are the other mechs killing so many of us? (These are big questions especially by the end of episode 6, due to some spoilers and a spoiler character who shows up later.)
We know little to nothing about a lot of the key elements of the show, including any motivations for the Death-Drives or what they are, what's up with the fucking UFO looking laser things, etc.
There's more to speculate on, but that would be getting into deeper spoiler territory so I'm gonna hold back on that for now.
Summary: It's Gay and Cool and Has Interesting Ideas
Bravern's not the sole source of gay vibes in this show, but it's fun that he is also a source of gay vibes in this show.
The designs are great, the Titanostriders remind me of Appleseed style mechanical suit designs which is nice, the Death-Drives are super interesting, Bravern is fucking fabulous but he's not too goofy to take seriously, and the military is unfortunately present but it's clear that they suck and are generally losing (and since the conflict is not between different groups of humans but rather is about human collaboration to defeat a non-human shared threat to our entire planet, this goes a long way to make the military shit tolerable).
It pretends to be a Real Robot show but has so much Super Robot show sprinkled in that you might as well consider it a little bit of both which the show balances pretty well.
I haven't watched an anime since around 2008 at the very latest, so I don't know how this might compare to any other robot animes since then and I am certainly not an anime expert by any means LOL, but this has been a fun show to watch so far.
It does have its problems, of course, but if you can get past the setup for the first episode (when it's still pretending to be a Real Robot show), from the moment Bravern arrives towards the end of that first episode, the show gains momentum and starts to get interesting very quickly.
It has some issues. But we're only 6 episodes in, so at the moment, they have plenty of time to potentially address those issues and we'll see where things go.
I'd recommend it if you want to give it a try!
I think there's enough here to appeal to the usual Transformers crowd and you might end up liking it, or at least having fun while watching it in the background.
If you end up wanting to to tap out then no worries-- I think it's worth giving it a shot and if it's not your thing, no problem.
Each episode is around 25 - 30 minutes, so while the first episode might feel like a slog to get through because fuck the military, once Bravern shows up the show actually gets started and I wouldn't blame anyone for just skipping to that point in the first episode and going from there, because there's nothing in that opening that you won't be reminded of or be able to figure out. It mostly just sets up the intro to the human characters and the collaboration training session, introduces the Titanostriders as a thing, and you can always go back and watch that part later if you want to.
All in all, pretty decent! Obviously we're Transformers people so we're here for the robots, and the robots are interesting and fun, and that's all I need to have a good time.
Hopefully this was a useful summary if you're interested or have seen Bravern stuff on your dash! :)
Thanks for reading!
BONUS: I forgot to mention this somehow, but there's a lot of overlap between Transformers and other Brave shows involving actual Transformers re-used in Japan for these shows; There's a good video about it here on YouTube which explains some of this, but if anyone's wondering, yes Bravern has a grounder alt-mode and it's pretty cool. Will we get a transforming Bravern figure??? We can hope!
There's another video here which mentions some of the Transformers elements in other Brave shows/Yuusha, which might be interesting for those of you who are unaware. :)
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Fandom Wrapped (Reader Edition) 2024!
Thanks to the wonderful @kattyelf for creating this template! Links and detailed reviews under the cut.
Disclaimer: I probably read hundreds of SxF fics in the past year, and it was not easy to choose which ones to put in the list above (or below)! This fandom is full of wonderful, friendly creators and I am so glad to be part of it. I also had to narrow it down to only the ones I read and reread in 2024, not 2022 or 2023. Finally...I also happened to read many good fics only once. Sometimes a fic is just too painful or sad to reread, especially if it's not finished.
Favorite fic and author: After peace by @unhappy-sometimes!
I could gush about unso for a whole post and not be done, but I will try to contain myself. Her fic After peace originated from an AU comic she drew where Twilight was forced to retire early due a major injury, and drifted aimlessly until WISE asked him to take care of an orphan they had rescued from Project Apple. There are several things that amazed me about this fic and cemented it in first place for 2024:
The premise. It was original and so full of potential.
How personal Twilight's journey felt to me. I didn't have a life-threatening injury, but I did put my career on hiatus in the past year and have often struggled with questions of -- what am I worth when I'm not "doing" anything? I was so used to going 150% in the rat race and coming out on top at great personal cost to health and family; even if all that was bad, how else can I get that sense of accomplishment? How can I stop wanting that sense of accomplishment?
Her style, which is both vivid AND concise. The fic was around 22K words if I remember correctly, with a well-constructed plot, character arcs, plenty of emotional beats, and a satisfying resolution. I often wonder if my writing is too verbose and when I see something like After peace, it challenges me to do better.
THIS WAS UNSO'S FIRST FIC EVER. THE HELL. It's like a freshman album that gets put up for a Grammy.
Fic(s) I reread (plus runners-up):
That Time Yor Seriously Thought About Leaving by peonydee: This is a WIP with one more chapter before completion, I believe. Peonydee's style is unique in how it's hard-hitting and disarming at the same time. Yor and Twilight find themselves in impossible situations, their relationship tested to the limit (and one of them in a close brush with death), yet there's still an undercurrent of wry humor, almost fatalistic due to the fact both of them have been steeped in death and dirty work for decades, yet still hopeful and reaching for each other. I also cackle every time she makes Twilight go off on a mansplaining tangent without ever using the term outright. A masterpiece of show not tell.
Is It Really All Right? by zyzy1083: This one is tender. A jealous!Loid fic with a fascinating portrayal of Loid from Yor's perspective. The imagery of a dark sea choking down any true thought or emotion from breaking for air will stay with me for a long time. There's also the fact she basically made up lyrics for an indie song as part of the plot and I had to ask whether it was a real song. Finally, there's the fact she was bold enough to portray Loid as less than a perfect, kind, smiley husband toward Yor, but in a believable way. He snaps at Yor at times. He loses his patience. It feels like a real relationship, in the awkward tension when one partner wants to talk and the other absolutely does not want to talk. I admire that courage and wish more authors would take that risk (calling myself out I guess!).
Green-eyed Monster by bigbruja: another jealous!Loid fic that's lighthearted and fun. This is a comfort reread. I enjoy seeing Loid recognize the threat of a supposed "old friend" of Yor's, questioning his own feelings and how far he needs to go to fend this guy off. The guy is a Garden assassin, unbeknownst to him. I also love Yor's own inner struggle of just wanting everyone to get along, but showing steel when she needs to.
dalliance by rosetintednerdglasses: this is a WIP, but it is HILARIOUS and I hope everyone will go encourage this author to pick this fic back up when they have a chance. TLDR, Twilight (in disguise) is sent on a joint mission with Thorn Princess and flips out internally when he sees it's Yor. Handler then orders him to ensure Thorn Princess continues to cooperate. So as Twilight, he has to sort-of honey trap Thorn Princess, while as Loid he has to keep Yor happy. Poor Yor believes she's torn between two different men and close to cheating on Loid! Situational hilarity all over the place, and fun world-building, like this other WISE agent randomly named "Steel Bunny" (LOL).
Not According to Plan by @kyrathel: love you girl! This is a gift fic for me, but that's not the reason I reread it (even though it's a WIP as well!). It's SO FUNNY. Twilight gets it in his overly anxious head that he MUST defend his wife from the bullies at City Hall, so what does he do? HE INFILTRATES CITY HALL AS A NEW FEMALE HIRE. The world absolutely needs more petty!Twilight! The latest chapter features laxative brownies. Enough said.
Let's start living dangerously by @beannoss: I specifically reread the later parts when dumb Twilight gets over his dumbness and finally talks to Yor! And they kiss again! I love the way huhwaku (beannoss) portrays overthinking Twilight AND overthinking Yor. And also, the simplicity of Yor at the same time. The voice she uses for both of them is refreshing, it really puts you in the mindset of the character. Yor's giggles ("teehee!") as she teases Twilight about his little perfectionist habits are a cute touch to a gentle, heartwarming fic about these two highly competent professionals just starting to take baby steps in how to be competent at a relationship.
Fic that made me emotional:
100% Perfect by @sometimesiship. Where do I begin? How about with the gut aversion I initially had to the premise of a futuristic AI dating bot AU, due to all the tragic, dark AI movies I have watched? But as it neared completion, someone convinced me to give it a try and I AM SO GLAD I DID. You can see my gushing comments in almost every chapter. The development of the relationship between human Yor and AI Loid is so natural, funny at times, poignant always, and beautifully written, even though from an objective standpoint not much exciting stuff happens (I mean canon-typical excitement like murders and spy missions). Sometimesiship has a way of describing emotion that is so raw -- she can portray the same emotion a dozen different ways with analogies and setups and dialogue and whatever -- and it still doesn't feel old. And the emotion that dominated the second half of the story was grief. Basically the grief of loving someone you know you're going to lose. Like being the spouse of a terminal cancer patient. I didn't cry while reading, but it was a closer call than I have had in a VERY long time. So much beauty and humanity in this story. And spoiler (?), it's a happy ending. So I hope you all go check it out!
That's a wrap! If you read this far, stay tuned for a Writer version of Fandom Wrapped 2024!
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HUSH | MYG - ONE
pairing: rockstar!yoongi x female reader | mutual disdain - lovers (but also strangers - lovers? kinda?)
premise: in which you work for your brothers band by day and accidentally anonymously sext his bandmate on the regular by night! whoops !!
wc: 17.5k
for more details, pls see the master list (x)
hush is written in two formats: messaging transcripts and my regular writing style
warnings: we're sexting, straight off the bat!! love that for our hush couple!! allusions to sending nudes, mentions of blueballing lmao, sex toys, general masturbation malarky, mentions of ass play <33, they video call during finales (back camera only!!!), yoongi has a massive cock, like im talking humongous, so BIG (and factually accurate!!) they're switchy aka he tries dom and she's too much of a brat that he folds, he is whiney and needy and obsessed, and she enjoys that! you get to fill in the gaps as if you're really sexting him, lucky you <33 there's also exactly (1) near foot job, a needy jk, (1) banana milk mention, a playfight, miscommunication, a mysterious night that will never be mentioned in conversation. oh yeah and yoongi and you don't realise you're sexting one another ! oops!!!! yoongi is uncircumcised cause ik some people care about that?? just my preference when writing, imagine what u like! no *actual* smut in this one... just... much sexting!
before you read: please read these for a little context on the story - the app (x) and the band (x)
minors dni!!!
New Hush Crush in your Secret Circle! D4m0cl3s
10:43PM
D4m0cl3s: hey, stranger
Cl3m3ntin3: well hello there how are you??
D4m0cl3s: i'm all good. yourself?
Cl3m3ntin3: yeah, yeah, im all good just tryna figure out this damn app, lmao
D4m0cl3s: you new around these parts?
Cl3m3ntin3: i am indeed you've taken my secret circle virginity lucky you x
D4m0cl3s: oh shit well, i am honoured i can be your guide to all things hush x
Cl3m3ntin3: oh, i seeeeee an expert, are we? ;)
D4m0cl3s: just realised how tragic it is to be a self-proclaimed dating app expert, so... no not an expert just.... well versed?
Cl3m3ntin3: hahaha sureeee so, tell me, mr hush expert, how do these conversations usually go
D4m0cl3s: okay, 1: not an expert and 2: just general chit chat get an idea of what you're both looking for stuff like that
Cl3m3ntin3: 1: keep telling yourself that, babe and 2: what are you looking for?
D4m0cl3s: 1: calling me babe, already? score. 2: a girl who calls me babe.
Cl3m3ntin3: looks like my work here is done, then ;) seeeeeeya x
D4m0cl3s: no don't go stay i think we'll get along tell me what you're looking for
Cl3m3ntin3: a man who begs for my attention so looks like your work here is done, too ;)
D4m0cl3s: well, aren't we just a match made in heaven?
Cl3m3ntin3: hell* definitely a match made in hell
D4m0cl3s: you a sinner?
Cl3m3ntin3: would you like me to be?
D4m0cl3s: tempting... but no
Cl3m3ntin3: shame maybe we are after different things after all
D4m0cl3s: woaaah, i never said that i was just trying to be a gentleman take things slow be respectful
Cl3m3ntin3: it's anonymous, babe i didn't sign up for hush looking to be wined and dined or to be treated like a lady quite the opposite, actually so you don't need to worry about tarnishing your reputation, or whatever your secrets are safe with me ;)
D4m0cl3s: 1. i couldn't give a shit about my reputation and 2. it's just that people are on this app for different reasons don't wanna assume everyone is after the same thing
Cl3m3ntin3: 1. untouchable, are you? and 2. well, im pretty sure you know what i'm here for and if it's not abundantly obvious: nothing serious. it's late, and i'm bored. what's a girl to do in those kinds of situations? play all alone? boringgg. my cards are on the table, damocles you're up.
D4m0cl3s: untouchable...something like that and fine if you really wanna know i'm not looking for a girl to take home to my mother
Cl3m3ntin3: good mothers don't tend to like me all that much
D4m0cl3s: no?
Cl3m3ntin3: nah fathers on the other hand? fucking love me
D4m0cl3s: and you wonder why the mothers hate you?
Cl3m3ntin3: oh, no im fully aware it's because im the only thing that can get their husbands' perpetually flaccid cocks hard :)
D4m0cl3s: jesus christ you really are built for sin, aren't you?
Cl3m3ntin3: uh-huh :) fancy a dance with the devil?
D4m0cl3s: not tonight but you've got me interested
Cl3m3ntin3: </3 can't believe you're blue balling me
D4m0cl3s: trust me im blue balling myself i've got an early schedule in the morning can't stay up all night entertaining some girl on a fucking app ;)
Cl3m3ntin3: okay 1: ouch, if anyone was doing the entertaining, it would be me and 2: prove it
D4m0cl3s: prove it?
Cl3m3ntin3: uh-huh prove that you're blue balling yourself
D4m0cl3s: again, jesus christ you are something else
Cl3m3ntin3: thank you :D now... proof
D4m0cl3s: say please
Cl3m3ntin3: you want me to get down on my knees, too?
D4m0cl3s: would be appreciated
Cl3m3ntin3: fine
D4m0cl3s: watch your attitude, clementine
Cl3m3ntin3: sighhh hate you for this already >:( pretty please could you show me your cock so i know you're hard and not just lying <;33
D4m0cl3s: see, that wasn't so hard, was it? good girl
D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!
Cl3m3ntin3: holy shit
D4m0cl3s: i might keep secrets, but i never lie let's talk tomorrow, alright?
Cl3m3ntin3: noted and tomorrow for sure sweet dreams, damocles x
D4m0cl3s: night night, clementine x
[3 Months Later] KSPO DOME Seoul, South Korea
♪ // Hush - The Marías
"You'll choke if you're not careful – and how many times do I need to tell you? Put that damn phone away!"
If Park Jimin wasn't so warm in his tone with you—effervescent in his kindness, bubbling over like lightly shaken soda—you'd tell him to kiss your ass.
He stands in the doorway, a pretty smile on his plump lips. There's something about him—his eyes, you think—that subvert all his softness. Makes him quite the menace. If you hadn't been there to witness his high-school bowl cut era, you never would believed it had happened. He's too cool. It transcends his current being. Is effortless.
In all black, a pair of Chelsea boots soundtrack his arrival no matter where he is. A little scuffed, he's in need of a new pair—but they'll be a post-show bonus treat. From Jimin, to Jimin. Congratulations on a job well done.
With a subtle roll of your eyes, you swallow down the blueberry you'd been holding between your teeth in a dingy backroom of Seoul's KSPO Dome—the venue of choice for The Scouts' final hometown show. The brickwork remains exposed, grey concrete blocks a dull backdrop for the catering tables.
"Sorry mum," you banter, even though you really shouldn't. There's a glint to your eyes beneath the awkward spotlighting that really isn't preferable for the buffet-style display behind you. Fruits, snacks, it's not a bad spread—but it's got nothing on the rider you know The Scouts ask for ahead of every show.
But why shouldn't they? What the boys want, the boys get – and they've worked damn hard to get it.
He nods towards the lanyard around your neck and reminds you of this, then holds up his.
Park Jimin, it reads. Senior Tour Manager.
"Not on the clock, trouble. I'm still your boss."
"And don't I know it," you offer him a smile, still not a huge fan of the dynamic the pair of you portray at work.
You've known Jimin since the tooth fairy was leaving coins under his pillow. It's sorta hard to take him seriously when you've experienced as much life together as you have.
The way he groans when you reach for yet another blueberry is testament to the friendship you share; the kind of found siblings written about in books but rarely found in reality. There's a sanctity there. He's got your back, and he knows you'll always pick up the slack when he needs you to.
For all your difficulties in the short-term, he knows you pull it out of the bag come the time results are needed.
Knocking the blueberry into your mouth with a grin, you use your tongue to toss it to your back teeth. It's a teeny tiny little fruit. You're pretty sure you could swallow it whole without repercussion.
In fact, the reason you were so engrossed in your phone is because you were about to start a discussion with a... friend about something else you could swallow, instead – but you won't tell Jimin that. He'd throw up, probably, and then it'd be your job to clean it up.
"Yeah, yeah," you nod, locking your phone and tucking it into your back pocket. "Sorry boss. Where do you need me?"
He narrows his eyes at your sarcastic use of formalities, but knows when to pick his battles with you. Instead, he knocks his head to the side and heads for the doorway, indicating for you to follow suit.
Just like he knows when to pick his battles with you, you also know when to pick yours with him.
"You've a job that people would likely kill for," he ribs, not really minding all that much. It's downtime between the off-stage rush, so there really isn't all that much to be doing—but you could at least pretend to make it look like you're working your ass off. "But you're too busy on your bloody phone. Head to hair and make-up. The next VCR segment is smaller so I need you in position pronto."
"Sure, sure," you nod like a bobbing head figurine, stealing a handful of blueberries from the catering table and heading on your way.
Jimin watches on with a curious sense of bewilderment. You're the best runner they have, by quite some margin, but also seemingly the one that's least eager to please—and by doing so, they seem to like you even more. It's an odd paradox, but it is one that you use to your advantage. Play a little dumb; wow them all when you continually and quite impressively exceed their expectations. Work smarter, not harder.
It's a work ethic that runs in the family. They shouldn't be surprised by it, not really.
The corridor you head down is flanked by sterile white lights. The only thing that's brighter are the faux smiles of entertainment execs and slimy media men, who are all after their fifteen minutes of favour—because it's not fame they'll get by rubbing shoulders with the boys on stage; it's a boost up. Something to talk big about in board room meetings.
A humble brag; a subtle flex, that is neither humble nor subtle.
Your lanyard taps against the buckle of your belt as you jog towards the stage. A cute little pat-pat-pat and jingle of keys from your beltloop soundtracks it, which you're thankful for. It covers the heavy breathing.
Just shy of the staircase leading up to the platform, which is almost shaking from the exertion of the performers on it, you hanger left into the room beside the dressing room.
While the dressing room is a dingy, theatrical maximalist's dream, the make-up department has a shell for a room. Bright white lights are overhead, to make sure the boys look amazing—which they always do regardless. Personally, you think this is all overkill. Takes away some of the authenticity. People swoon for The Scouts and the fact they're walking, talking hot messes. When the 'mess' is carefully applied with tiny brushes and kept in place with setting spray, it just doesn't hit the same.
Still, the fans are none the wiser, so who cares? Let them think Jeon Jungkook has flawless skin after an all-night bender.
Annoyingly, he normally does – but that's beyond the point.
"Here she is," Jinyu grins as you walk through the door with a little huff, immediately picking up a setlist by the door to fan your face.
Ethereal as usual, hair pulled back with a claw clip and a grown-out fringe framing her delicate features, Jinyu's mask pulled down to rest beneath her chin. A make-up brush is tucked behind her ear and half a dozen hair grips are biting onto the sleeve of her shirt, ready for the rush that will come with the next VCR break.
At least one of you is, you think.
She always is, though. Best of the bunch, she's the senior make-up artist, and has an example to lead by.
The rest of the make-up artists sit together in the far corner, nattering amongst themselves with far more animation than their hushed tones should really allow for. It's not an uncommon occurrence.
They like to pretend that they don't want anyone to know their business, but you've heard it all.
You could share, in quite some detail, how Jungkook likes to look at his regular make-up artist's lips whenever she's applying balm to his.
Apparently, the tension is 'off the charts', but he's 'too shy to do anything'. Always asks for balm, even when he doesn't need it. Or so she says.
You roll your eyes whenever you hear her brag about it, 'cause you've also heard the conversations that the boys have had behind closed doors. You know that if Jungkook is gonna be after any of the make-up artists, it's Jinyu—but the ring on her fourth finger and the toddler she sometimes brings to work on the quiet days is enough for him to stay away.
The lifestyles lived by The Scouts wouldn't allow for any of them to be playing 'Daddy'—though the girls who've squeezed into their tour bus bunks would probably beg to differ.
It's not just Jungkook who they like to gossip about—although he is the current flavour of the month, ever since he got that bloody lip ring.
In all honesty, you've heard so much shite about all five members that it's a miracle the girls still have jobs.
A new addition to the team since the overwhelming success of the last album run, the record label are keen on The Scouts keeping up their appearances. Gone are the days of sleeping in eyeliner and waking up with panda eyes—now it's carefully placed with precision beneath their tired lashlines, bloodshot eyes still bleary from the night before.
According to the last make-up room rumour mill, Tae is the type to send a late-night text to a handful of girls at once, just to see who bites (of which they all do, of course), and Yoongi is the type to sit silently in the make-up chair, only to make some absurdly unhinged comment as he leaves for the stage.
It's what they're talking about as you and Jinyu exchange glances with comically raised brows and wide eyes.
"Like, the whole time, he must have just been sat there, thinking about it," one of them swoons. "Didn't say a single word, and then just said 'your perfume smells nice, today,' as he was leaving."
The way they giggle makes your skin crawl. It's like they're constantly trying to one-up one another, using the men they work for as tools to do so – and you can't really blame them. As much as you may hate it, it's a man's world, especially in this industry. If you've gotta climb a few greasy poles to reach the top, then more power to those who choose to do so.
"He definitely spent the whole time thinking about it."
"What perfume are you wearing? I wouldn't mind him saying that to me..."
"God, he's such a dream boat."
"Something about him lately is just... ugh, off the charts. We need to stop styling his hair like that. It's too good."
You don't mean to be so judgemental – you've got a pair of eyes. Know exactly why they insist on giggling about their delusions.
Thing is, you can deal with the Jungkook gossip. Tae, Yoongi, Namjoon – whatever.
It's when they start talking about Jin and fail to hide the fact they're doing so that you're reminded of exactly why it grinds your gears so much.
In fact, quite frankly, you've a desire to pick up one of Jinyu's rattail combs and shove it into your ear. Would hope it'd impale your brain. You're not really sure how deep you'd have to go, but it would beat hearing them fawn over your older brother.
You've heard things being said about his hands that no younger sister should ever have to. Quite repulsive, actually.
Instead, you grimace, trying to gain back your breath following your sprint (of which Jimin would call a leisurely pace) up the corridor.
"Why does catering have to be so far from the dressing room?!"
Jinyu watches on with great amusement as you rest your hands on your knees, bending as if you've just run a 10k. Dramatics run in the family, or so it would seem.
"I dunno, babe," Jinyu purrs, her smile present just like it always is, voice a little extra loud to drown out the noise of the witches gathered in the corner. "Why was my favourite runner over in catering in the first place?"
You let your eyes narrow, her teasing grin only serving as a reminder that you really should know better than to keep on going back to the blueberry stash. It's not like you aren't allowed them. They'd all go to waste otherwise, so if anything, you're snacking on behalf of the company.
"You couldda just had them call one of the other runners back," you pout, knowing that it never would have been the case. She likes to make you work a little bit harder than the others, 'cause she knows you feel like you have more to prove.
Jinyu laughs, and passes you some hair grips to hook onto your sleeves for later. "You're the one who said you wanted to establish yourself! What was it you said at the start of these shows?"
You drop down onto the sofa next to her makeup station, tucking your legs up on the seat. The vibration of the music on stage pours through the walls at such a volume you're surprised you can even sustain a conversation.
"I'm gonna show them," Jinyu imitates with far more dramatic flair than you think is really necessary—but it is accurate. "I'll prove to them all that nepotism had nothing to do with me getting hired. Who, me?" She gasps."The baby sister of our very own World Wide Handsome? Hired because my brother pulled some strings? Never!"
"Fuck off," you laugh, tossing one of the sofa pillows towards her—but she catches it with ease because of course she does. Jinyu is everything you could ever aspire to be, hand-eye coordination included. The girls in the corner hush their conversation and begin to take an interest in your conversation. You ignore them, shrugging as you say, "It's not like I have a first-class degree in stage management or anything like that."
Sure, you have the qualifications—but you also aren't stupid. You know that the job is a favour amongst family. The job market these days is non-existent and while being Jin's sibling had afforded you a follower count worthy of an influencer, you need a purpose in life. It's no coincidence that you both showed an interest in the music industry—he's just far better suited to the performance side of it.
It would have been foolish to turn down the opportunity when Jin had mentioned it at a family dinner.
You're low-level, just a runner for now, but it's nice to be somewhere in which people don't give a shit about your famous brother. To most people here, he's a coworker, a colleague.
Outside of work, your entire personality to anyone you first meet is apparently being related to him. In all honestly, it's the same even in a professional capacity. Had started lying on your resume about your name, just so he wasn't the topic of conversation for all of your job interviews.
Remarkably, this is the only job that hasn't cared about him being your brother.
"Whatever you say. That's our cue. Off your arse," Jinyu says, her demeanour switching as the sound of the final chorus begins to simmer down. You don't need to be told twice, getting to your feet and into position beside her. "Can you be my right hand?"
♪ // Only Angel - Harry Styles
"Sure," you nod, expecting nothing less. It's not much, just putting some hair grips in place while she touches up their stage makeup, and switching out brushes as and when she needs them. Just enough to be helpful without getting in her way.
The girls in the corner follow suit, standing behind their chairs, eager to see the men in all of their sweaty, worn-out glory. They've made no secret of their admiration, which is why Jinyu is such a breath of fresh air. A fair few years older than the boys, she's happily married and doesn't care to swoon over them.
Like a force of nature, The Scouts rumble into the room - lips ajar, chest heaving, hair damp with sweat.
Jungkook is first, slamming his body down into one of the chairs, in dire need of something other than the piss-warm beer he's got up on stage. Tossing him a bottle of water from the countertop behind you, he catches it with ease. Smirks. Looks at you with all the adrenaline he's stolen from the eyes of the fans that adore him. Legs wide, bottle undone with one hand, there's a challenge to his gaze. Performing is a fuckin' drug to Jeon Jungkook - you just wish he didn't keep such a fucked-out look on that pretty face of his whenever he finishes.
So yeah, maybe you do get why the girls chitchat in the way that they do.
The rest of the band follow in, equally trashed, in the best possible way. Taehyung's shirt has miraculously lost all of its buttons, and Namjoon's T-shirt is now slung around his shoulders like a towel. His hair drips with sweat, arms swollen from the exertion of the last few days of shows.
Behind them, Yoongi strolls with an air of arrogance he carries off ever so well. Indifferent. Just as covered in sweat, but without the entire body exhaustion the other Scouts are displaying. He's too cool for his own good. Doesn't look at you. Looks right through you. Asshole.
And then finally, presumably because he was too busy flirting with the audience, the Scout Leader himself makes his grand entrance. Plastic cup in hand, he's nursing a Jack and Coke. Doesn't see the point in all this make-up malarky, when he knows he's just gonna sweat it off anyway. Would much rather actually take this time to recharge, even if just for a second. Thought that adding VCR's to shows would allow them more time for that, and is sorely disappointed by the reality of it.
"Fucking hell, has it been raining?" You deadpan when he slinks down into the chair opposite you and Jinyu. "Y'know, you should get some of those sweat-reduction botox injections. Would work wonders."
He looks at you with disdain that clearly tells you to fuck off. He stays silent. Kicks your shin, instead. You kick him right back.
"I swear the pair of you are worse than my two-year-old," Jinyu sighs as she drapes a towel around Jin's shoulders.
"Someone needs to humble him," you shrug.
"Someone needs to fire you," he says right back, not realising that Jinyu had passed you her hair mister, earning himself a spritz of water to the face.
Effective immediately, your hair mister privileges are taken away. Jinyu's pleasant smile looks almost stern as she takes it, putting it down on the dressing table with a thud.
"We've got three minutes," she reminds you.
"Sorry boss," you quip, not wanting her to actually get pissed off at you. There are certain liberties you can take, but you're supposed to be helping her, not a hindrance.
There's subdued energy in the room now that the boys have settled, not wanting to waste their fuel anywhere other than the stage. As you push grips into Jin's hair, ready for hairspray, you watch the room in the mirror view.
Taehyung is on his phone, not paying any attention to what's going on, his makeup artist working silently. Jungkook is patting down his own face with powder while his stylist teases his hair just right.
You look at him for a little too long, his eyes coming to meet yours in the mirror. Despite the pitch-black darkness of his irises, there's a lightness in his gaze—one that has your skin feeling all prickly and hot, eyes darting back down to Jin's hair.
You think you can hear him laughing to himself.
It's confirmed when Jimin waltzes into the room, clipboard in hand and asks, "What's got you giggling, Kook?"
He lies, and says he's thinking about his dog, Bam, just to save you from embarrassment.
You glance back up to where his eyes are already waiting for yours, brows lifted as he smirks. You make vague shapes with your mouth as if you're telling him to 'fuck off,' which only serves to make him laugh again, a little harder this time. He keeps it quiet, shoulders bobbing up and down, his smile magnetic.
It's all in good fun. There's been a running joke for years now that you'll date Jungkook just to piss off Jin.
You already know his make-up artist will twist that moment to her own liking, making up some bullshit about him laughing with her, but it's barely worth your energy.
Beside him, Jimin vies for attention from Yoongi, who looks like he's in need of a good nap.
There's a sheen to his skin, sweat dripping down his neck thanks to his make-up artists failing to grab him a towel. You call for Jimin's attention, and once you have it, you chuck him one of the spare towels over your shoulder. He tilts his head in confusion, but when you nod towards Yoongi, he understands.
The towel is passed along, a simple 'hm?' from Yoongi to question where it came from. Jimin nods towards you, and Yoongi takes a second to observe what you're doing. You're not looking at him, because quite frankly, he intimidates you.
He never used to.
In fact, you used to get along quite well—but you're vaguely aware of the fact he doesn't approve of nepotism, and knows that the only reason you secured this job is because of Jin.
It makes you feel a little embarrassed. A little ashamed. None of the other boys seem to care, but it puts you on edge with Yoongi. You try extra hard—be extra diligent—with him. He seems to be the one you seek validation from the most, despite him being the one you interact with the least.
In the corner of the room, Taehyung and Namjoon discuss the next song. A change from yesterday's set, they've been switching up songs so that no one really knows what to expect next. Have to keep things fresh. Keep their names trending. Get those streams. Meet industry targets set by suits with no real understanding of what it means to make art.
It's admirable how much they cram into such little time. Masters of their craft, it's an honour to see them work. It's without a doubt that they've earned their success.
You kind of get why Yoongi is hesitant of you. You feel underqualified, as if you haven't worked hard enough to earn the role you've been given—but you have. You have the credentials. Jin opened the door for you, yes, but you're the one who had the key in the first place.
You're distracted by your thoughts when your phone buzzes in your back pocket. The vibration hums just a little bit longer than any of your other app notifications, so you know exactly what it is. Know who it is.
Kind of.
There's a little bit of bashful shame that washes over your features, fearful someone will hear the buzz and recognise its length—not that anyone would notice the soft purr in the back pocket of your jeans, cushioned by your ass. It's just as incognito as the man who's sending you a message is.
Your phone buzzes a few times. Seven, to be precise.
Needy, you think to yourself—but it pleases you. He never fails to disappoint.
Well, rarely. You've been waiting half an hour for a message from him, and it's so bloody typical that it would come through when you're finally busy.
"Positions!" Jimin calls from the corridor, letting the boys know their rest time is up.
Jinyu casts an authoritative eye over the boys, checking to make sure they all look okay before sending them on their way.
"Hair grip," she reminds Jungkook's stylist, who had left a tiny little clip in his fringe. She flusters, embarrassed at missing such a detail, but Jungkook just pulls it from his fringe without much care as he puts his phone back on its wireless charging port.
Namjoon follows suit, reminded that his phone was in his back pocket, tossing it on one of the dressing room tables. Yoongi tucks his phone into a bag by the sofa, and Tae does the same.
They file out in good spirits, hyping one another up for the final part of the show, staff patting their backs and cheering on words of encouragement. It's always bittersweet for them; their final performances are their favourites, but they're also the ones in which they know they'll be saying farewell—and no one likes goodbyes.
You watch with fondness as the stage-cam plays on the TV in the corner of the room. There's something about the five of them together, on stage, surrounded by an ocean of unadulterated love and affection, that feels like watching magic. It's the kind of thing that only happens once in a lifetime. You're thankful you get to witness it in all its glory. You'll probably watch the final few songs from the side of the stage, just to feel even an ounce of what the boys do.
Sinking back into the sofa, the scent of hot, sweaty men clouding the air, you pull your phone from your pocket—and sure enough, you're met with the notifications you've been hoping for.
New Secret from D4m0cl3s D4m0cl3s: late shift tonight, sorry one of the girls on my team made a joke about how tense i seem to be said i need to get laid... i told her she needs to mind her own fucking business but... it also got me thinking about you i finish in an hour give me a reason not to go out and get laid
You smile, as the heat that pricked at your skin when Jungkook caught your eye earlier that evening returns.
Part of you toys with the idea of 'what if it's him?' His phone is face down on its charger, all of his secrets hidden from the world.
Part of you hopes it is, just for the knowledge of it irritating the fuck out of Jin and the girls who are sat in the corner, gossiping about his giggling earlier.
Realistically, you know it's not. It's impossible.
You've been sent enough pictures from your Damocles boy of his hands doing unthinkable things to know it can't be Jungkook. They're free of ink, pristine and pale, a little pink in their tone, and the only clue you have of who the fuck you spend so much time talking to.
"Where are you off to now?!" Jinyu asks as you head for the door, somehow surprised that you're dipping again.
"Catering," you lie, knowing full well you're going to find somewhere private enough to give your Damocles boy exactly what he's after.
"You'll turn into a blueberry," she warns you. You hold back a laugh, and resist the urge to tell her that what you're actually about to turn into is a clementine.
There are half a dozen doors down the corridor, but you slide into the first storage cupboard you come across. It's empty, and there's a lock on it, which is all you really need.
If you'd have stayed in the dressing room, it would have been a tomato you turned into, instead. Your cheeks would flush scarlet red, just like they did when the familiar purr of a Hush notification chimed far too loudly for something that's supposed to be all about keeping secrets.
You'd take a second. Wouldn't want to check your own phone, 'cause then all the girls would know you'd received a message from a hook-up app.
But you're not in the room. Nor is your phone.
And they all hear it regardless.
The girls who gossip pause, wondering if they've all heard the same thing. Jinyu is oblivious, happily married and unaware of what Hush even really is, let alone the vibrate tone.
One, two, three messages ping their way from your phone to his, but you're none the wiser. Haven't got a clue.
It's been three months, and neither one of you has any desire to disclose your identity to the other. You're serving a purpose; fulfilling a need.
Why ruin a good thing?
You aren't 'good', nor opposed to being ruined—but that's neither really here nor there. You've got a system that works, and it would be foolish to change things now.
You return to the dressing room, unaware that your phone isn't the only device within those four walls littered with pictures of your bare chest. In fact, everyone is unaware. It's your own little secret that you don't even realise you're keeping, and one that you intend on taking to the grave.
"No blueberries?" Jinyu asks as you return empty-handed.
"Got distracted," you lie, as you settle back into the sofa, a pleasant air surrounding you. On the screen, the boys are laughing, indulging in the energy of their fans for the final time that evening.
"By?" she presses, curious as to why you're looking all smitten as you watch the screen.
It's got nothing to do with any of them.
Or so you think.
It's actually got a whole lot to do with one of them.
You just don't realise it yet.
And so you simply shrug, and say, "Secret."
"C'mon," Jungkook grins, eyes still swathed by the glow of mobile phone flashlights held up during the encore, even a whole thirty minutes after the show is over. He tugs on your arm, but you remain fixed in place, shaking your head. "We're all going, aren't we?"
The question is addressed to the boys, but he's still looking at you. You wish he wouldn't. Not when he looks like that.
His lips are wet, freshly licked, glistening like his silver lip ring, and his hair is still a little damp around the nape of his neck. There's something about him that looks a lot like magic. It's a wonder you haven't fallen under his spell.
"Uh-huh," Jin nods, tossing back the dregs of his final jack and coke. He's not yet run the rider dry, but it doesn't matter. He'll take the bottle with him, and wherever they end up won't turn them away, for they know he'll buy more – though the bar will likely comp it through. "You can ride with me."
Jungkook's grin widens. He loves it when a plan comes together.
♪ // No Shame - Five Seconds of Summer
"C'mon," Jungkook says again. Is quiet in his tone. Persuasive. "I'll miss you if you're not there."
"Is that supposed to make me feel a certain type of way?" You deadpan. "Try it on one of the makeup girlies. They'll eat it right up."
"Don't wanna try it on one of them," he whines a little, nudging his shoulder against yours. "It's our final show. We're celebrating."
"Your final show," you remind him. "I've got a gig next week. Some European group-"
"Don't care," he says. "You're ours for the night. Come party."
You roll your eyes back so hard it feels like you might have just seen your frontal lobe, but there's a smile on your lips, too. It's nice to feel wanted; appreciated.
The invite isn't extended to the make-up artists, who are busy packing away, hoping that Jungkook's neediness will shift to them instead. It won't, but they can keep dreaming.
"If I come - and it's a strong if - you're paying," you bargain.
All you really want is to get home as quickly as you possibly can. Had even considered ordering a taxi before the boys had finished their set, but knew Jimin would have a field day with that one. Might even dock your pay just to be a little git.
You've a date with your phone, but the draw of real life is just too tempting.
It's difficult, because you know that you should want to go out, want to celebrate the fact you can actually go out now that the shows are done... but a random dude sending dick pics somehow seems to be more appealing.
It's tragic, really. Something that you never wanna have to explain. You think you'd rather die. Are shameful of your shamelessness. Ironic.
And right on time, a buzz in your back pocket rumbles through you like a crack of lightning; burns your cheeks a pretty posy pink.
Jungkook's ignorance of your reaction is a blessing. You're not sure how you would've explained it away - though knowing Jungkook, he'd have used your blush to wind Jin up. Attribute it to himself. Play into the idea of you hooking up with him.
It's not like you've never considered it – but lately, it's been hard to 'consider' anyone other than your Damocles boy.
You're reminded of him now – his thick, pink knuckles, and his notably thicker, marginally less pink cock- and how he said that someone on his team told him he needed to get laid. You can't help but think the same for yourself.
It's not healthy, the way you're so drawn to the excitement a few pixels can give you. Is stopping you from living your real life.
There's an unease in your stomach; guilt, almost.
So you groan, knock your head back, and concede. "Fine!"
"Attagirl!" Jungkook beams as he pulls his phone from his pocket, checking the time and pushing it back into his jeans again. He reaches over for his bag, the scent of his aftershave catching you off guard. There's something about him... Something you know you should ignore, but are finding harder and harder to do so with each and every passing day. "We good to go?"
"Who else is coming?" You hum, heading to the coat rack to pick up your jacket. Tae is leaning against the door frame, shaking his head.
"Not me. Got a date with my bed," he says, ending his sentence with a yawn. He covers it with the back of his hand, but it's so loud you almost find yourself yawning too.
"Pussy," Jungkook scoffs. "Final show and-"
"Me either," Yoongi says as he walks past, not looking in your direction. The jacket that hangs around his broad shoulders is dark, just like his mood always seems these days.
You're not exactly sure when he decided that you weren't worthy of his time, but you're used to it now. Sucks, but such is life. He's always been a little like this, but it's your first time being on the receiving end of his coldness.
"Hot date with your bed?" You tease, hoping to get a little bit of warmth from him.
As he reaches the door, it surprises you both when he turns to look at you. There's a stillness to him; the slow evaporation of cloudy breaths in sub-zero temperatures. His eyes meet yours, and drop down your body. Pause when they land on your palms, and the phone that's being held in them.
His gaze returns to your eyes, fast quicker this time, and then he shrugs. "Yeah, something like that."
He doesn't wait for a reply. You don't intend on giving him one, either.
"And then there were 5," Jungkook sighs. "Fuck it, let's go."
STAIRWAY BAR Itaewon-ro, Yongsan-Gu
♪ // Heaven and Back - Chase Atlantic
There's something sordid about the place you're in. Could be the neon lights on the walls, could be the walls lined with stacks upon stacks of old vinyl records. Could be the birdcages where lampshades should be, or it could be the worn-out leather sofas you're on in the corner of the room. Could be the punters, and how they're all wrapped in their own personal brand of sin, too busy to notice the living legends walking amongst them.
Truthfully, it's why the boys like places like this. They become one with the shadows. Can hide. Do things in secret that other people do in public. It's not like they're actively looking for trouble, but they can't help but seem to find it. Whether it be women, drugs, booze, it doesn't matter – they've each got a kryptonite.
Regretfully, you know Jin's: women who are no good for him. Blonde, brunette, foreign, local, he doesn't give a shit. All that matters is they know who he is, and they want him in inexplicable ways.
Credit where it's due, they all have conviction. All get exactly what they want – but he's easy. Sluts himself out for the fun of it; for the novelty of being a 'rockstar'.
It's gotten worse since their last big award show win. He's getting careless. Has never been one to hand out NDAs, but the kind of people he's attracting now really should have gag orders – issue is, Jin's always far more focused on finding out how sensitive their gag reflex is.
Namjoon's is his inability to say 'no'. Afterparty? He's there. Toke on a joint that has no business being in the hands of such a high-profile man? Go on, then. An upper before a show? Don't mind if I do.
It's a disaster waiting to happen. Anywhere else and you wouldn't worry. In the States, it'd be a non-issue. Expected, even.
The laws aren't so forgiving, here. One bad decision and that's it. Jail time. But sir, I'm a rockstar, pwetty pwease let me go, won't work on a court judge, and even if it did, the court of public opinion and trial by social media would run him into the ground regardless.
Unfair? You think so, yes. Just how life goes? Also yes.
Though they all push the limits to a certain extent, it's Jungkook that's the biggest risk of all. He's the youngest. Got girls lining around the block just to have a look at him. Is bad in a way that girls convince themselves is good. I can fix him. All starry-eyed and sex appeal, there's nothing innocent about him. Nothing.
S'why you know better than to indulge in his flirt – because that's all it ever is. A limit to push. A boundary to break. A challenge he wants to win.
In quite the contrast, Taehyung keeps his boundaries watertight. Doesn't stray, doesn't overindulge. Goes home to a partner who'd give him the world, if he asked – but he won't. See, Kim Taehyung already has the world. Not his career (though it could be argued), not his money, not his fame. They're perks, sure – but his world waits up for him with his favourite snacks on the kitchen counter, ready to hear all about the show.
It's only the close circle that knows. The make-up girls don't have a clue. Jinyu is well aware, but not because it's ever been discussed. She just knows. Is intuitive, like that. Probably knows more about the boys' business than even Jimin does – and it's his job to know their business.
Though the boys would argue that Yoongi has no weakness, you believe otherwise.
His Achilles heal is found in his solitude. His laissez-faire attitude to the world around him stunts his enjoyment of it, you think. He's never gonna be in his twenties in the biggest band in the world ever again. These days will pass him by, and he's wasting them.
If he were to know you felt this way, he wouldn't dignify you with a response; he'd just show up to even fewer events to spite you. Has no interest in your unsolicited opinions of him.
Because you're wrong about his weaknesses.
While yes, his solitude exacerbates them, it's the silence that nurtures his weaknesses: his regrets. His inability to forget. Forgive. Let things go. He fixates, and it frustrates him to the point of fury.
His kryptonite is not how little he cares. Quite contrary. It's how violently he does care. That's what ties his shoelaces together and trips him up. Gives him a bloody nose. Scrapes his knees. Leaves him bloodied and bruised; pink in his pain.
But that's your kryptonite: your cocksure arrogance in thinking you know everything.
Or at least, that's what Yoongi would tell you, if he were ever to get into this debate with you.
He won't.
Again, you'll think it's because he's laissez-faire. That he doesn't care.
Regretfully, you'll be wrong – but he's the one who simmers over regrets, not you.
"Alright, alright!" You laugh, a little unsteady on your feet as you stand up after god-knows how many shots. Namjoon reaches out to steady you. Glances at Jin as if to say, 'kids, eh?'
You're all fucked. Have had far too much, but you figure that's what nights like these are for – who cares? You're celebrating.
Jin just smiles. Rolls his eyes, then averts his attention to the blonde by the bar who's gonna take your seat as soon as you leave.
Jungkook doesn't notice, cause he's too busy laughing at you.
"Just gonna run to the bathroom," you declare, as if they need to know such details. "Need to pee."
"Bathrooms just round the other side of the projector screen," Jimin tells you, nodding in its direction, 'cause even though it's after hours and he's far too heavily intoxicated, he can't help but be resourceful. That's his kryptonite. Can never switch off. "Just up the stairs."
It's not even like you need direction. Have been to this bar more times than you've had hot dinners.
Jungkook laughs. Thinks you're full of shit.
"Your tolerance is going down in your old age," he teases, as if you're not the same age. "Tactical chunders are for the weak."
You tell him to go fuck himself, and he laughs, all hearty and warm. "Gladly."
Their chatter continues without you. The blonde joins, and so does her friend. Someone's getting lucky tonight, and you're pretty sure it'll be all four of them. Thoughts you'd rather not think, honestly.
Teeny tiny is the bathroom. Cramped. A single cubicle is in working order and the hot tap has been broken for as long as you've been visiting this place. It definitely violates some health and safety codes, but who really gives enough of a shit to report it?
Holding your fingers beneath the already running tap, you check the temperature – as if the hot tap even works – and wait for a moment just to be sure. Icy cold, as always.
Lost in the sensation of the water, you forget for a moment why you're there.
While yeah, you could have a drink from the tap, you could have just gotten water at the bar.
Brain all fuzzy, you can't put your finger on it - until your phone vibrates in your back pocket.
And then suddenly, you remember exactly why you're in the bathroom.
11:37PM
D4m0cl3s: fuck, you look so good such a tease i'll be home as soon as i can be been thinking about you all night
11:58PM
i'm home let me know when you're free
00:16AM
you're taking your precious time tonight
00:21AM
what's the deal, huh? tryna get me all frustrated?
00:23AM
it's working
00:39AM
damn maybe that girl on my team was right maybe i should have just gone out and got laid tonight
01:05AM
really? even me being an asshole isn't working? is it compliments you want? you know i'll give you them
01:28AM
okay so i actually am a bit worried now, let me know when you're home safe, m'kay?
Cl3m3ntin3: you know what they say treat 'em mean, keep 'em keen
D4m0cl3s: FINALLY
Cl3m3ntin3: damn, you really are keen aren't you
D4m0cl3s: you were gone so long i was thinking about watching porn PORN you know how long it's been since i watched porn?
Cl3m3ntin3: if my calculations are correct, about 3 months?
D4m0cl3s: ... you're smart, clem but also so mean, my god got me all riled up and kept me waiting HOURS
Cl3m3ntin3: i'm sorry i'm here now and i'm thinking about you, too
D4m0cl3s: are you still out? at work?
Cl3m3ntin3: uh-huh out not at work, tho
Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!
D4m0cl3s: fucking hell, clem your tits look so good come here wanna hold them
Cl3m3ntin3: give me an address and i'll get in a taxi right now we can keep the lights off, never have to see each other keep things anon but i gottaaaa feel your hands on my chest
D4m0cl3s: i wish i could wish i could just fuck you like we both know you deserved to be fucked
Cl3m3ntin3: i'm not stopping you
D4m0cl3s: we both know that isn't entirely true
Cl3m3ntin3: do we? give me an address doesn't have to be yours hotel sex is always fun
D4m0cl3s: i have a feeling all sex with you will be fun location is irrelevant
Cl3m3ntin3: well i'm currently in a bathroom stall hiding from my friends just so i can reply to you you reckon a bathroom stall would be fun?
D4m0cl3s: i reckon i love a challenge
Cl3m3ntin3: well i mean i could always send you my current location...
D4m0cl3s: tempting... but no.
Cl3m3ntin3: you're your own worst cock block, damocles boy
D4m0cl3s: it's called deprivation, baby yanno, kind of like what you did when you kept me waiting for hours gonna make you want me so badly it hurts
Cl3m3ntin3: i already do which is why you should come and put me out of my misery
D4m0cl3s: you're with your friends, you're fine ;) actually you drinking?
Cl3m3ntin3: a little
D4m0cl3s: a little?
Cl3m3ntin3: ...a lottle?
D4m0cl3s: the fact you just said lottle tells me all i need to know lmao you know the drill, clem
Cl3m3ntin3: :((((( noooooo
D4m0cl3s: stop pouting
Cl3m3ntin3: i can't :(((
D4m0cl3s: you can i meant what i said about no drunk messages only want you doing this when your head is clear
Cl3m3ntin3: my head is clear and my head thinks you should stop thinking with yours actually start thinking with your dick instead :)
D4m0cl3s: fine then let's see how clear your head is send me a video of you walking in a straight line
Cl3m3ntin3: you just wanna see my feet perv
D4m0cl3s: video
Cl3m3ntin3: fineeee, fucking fine!
Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!
D4m0cl3s: oh yeah fuck that clem, you're pissed as a fart hahaha i'm not even sure you tried to walk in a straight line, you wobbly mess cute laugh tho get some water in you go back to your friends we can talk in the morning
Cl3m3ntin3: but i wanna talk now :( missed u today
D4m0cl3s: missed u too will miss you tonight but i'll wait
Cl3m3ntin3: :( whyyy do you have to be so good all the time :(
D4m0cl3s: because we both know that the second you send me a picture of your perfect little pussy, i won't be good
Cl3m3ntin3: now?
D4m0cl3s: no, baby in the morning, okay? drink some water.
Cl3m3ntin3: fine
D4m0cl3s: watch your attitude
Cl3m3ntin3: sighhh :((
D4m0cl3s: don't you'll make me feel bad just get yourself home and to bed and you can wake up to this tomorrow...
D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!
Cl3m3ntin3: BRB, sprinting home
D4m0cl3s: shut up idiot enjoy your night lemme know when ur home
Cl3m3ntin3: okay :( sweet dreams, damocles boy x
D4m0cl3s: speak soon, clemmie x
D4m0cl3s is offline
08:58AM
D4m0cl3s: morning clemmie
Cl3m3ntin3: hereee he is was wondering when you'd be up
D4m0cl3s: been up ages was wondering if today would finally be the day you message me first ;)
Cl3m3ntin3: why would i ever do that? we both know you can't bear to be away from this chat thread for more than a few hours
D4m0cl3s: your ego never fails to amaze me
Cl3m3ntin3: i'm a product of your creation, damocles boy you told me last week that i'm the only thing that gets you hard these days and you expect me not to get an ego?
D4m0cl3s: hope you know that when i actually get to fuck you, there's no room in my bed for your ego
Cl3m3ntin3: oh bite me you're gonna be putty in my hands
D4m0cl3s: i'm really gonna have to fuck the ego out of you, aren't i? get your little attitude problem in check and biting? you into that?
Cl3m3ntin3: i'd like to see you try like i said, this is aaaaall your fault if you can't control yourself over a message thread, how the fuck will you cope when I'm in front of you? and pls i'm gonna be the one fucking you it's cute that you think otherwise stupid <33 but cute :)
D4m0cl3s: i literally hate you
Cl3m3ntin3: you gonna hate me when im on my knees between your legs?
D4m0cl3s: yep
Cl3m3ntin3: gonna hate me when i run my tongue up and down that pretty cock of yours?
D4m0cl3s: yep
Cl3m3ntin3: gonna hate me when i wrap my lips around your tip? when i take your hard cock in my warm, wet mouth?
D4m0cl3s: yep and yep
Cl3m3ntin3: gonna hate me when i take you so deep my eyes start watering?
D4m0cl3s: uh-huh
Cl3m3ntin3: you're a tough bargainer :(
D4m0cl3s: just means im gonna fuck you like i hate you
Cl3m3ntin3: no you're not :) you're gonna be soooo shy so timid so scared of fucking up because of how badly you want me
D4m0cl3s: the way you're gonna eat your fucking words actually makes me laugh
Cl3m3ntin3: i wanna hear your laugh
D4m0cl3s: you can hear it when you finally fuck me
Cl3m3ntin3: i could have fucked you last night you said no <//3
D4m0cl3s: incorrect i said not when you're drunk
Cl3m3ntin3: i'm a good fuck when im drunk
D4m0cl3s: i'm pretty sure you're a good fuck regardless of your blood alcohol concentration i've seen how you fuck your toys i know you're a good fuck
Cl3m3ntin3: like this?
Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!
D4m0cl3s: just like that fuck that's it, baby i like that toy what is it? glass? always looks so good when you sink it into your pussy so so wet, fucking hell
Cl3m3ntin3: glass, uh-huh you should get one for yourself
D4m0cl3s: myself?
Cl3m3ntin3: yourself
D4m0cl3s: i'm not sure that's my kinda thing, clemmie
Cl3m3ntin3: only one way to find out plus i remember how hard you came that time i got you to play with your ass a little
D4m0cl3s: shut up omg
Cl3m3ntin3: seeeeee, i'm totally gonna be the one doing the fucking :D
D4m0cl3s: you're not touching my ass
Cl3m3ntin3: i'm gonna eat it :)
D4m0cl3s: you're gonna do no such thing
Cl3m3ntin3: hehe okay whatever you say :D can't wait to say i told you so when you're face down ass up whining about how good my tongue feels :D
D4m0cl3s: and this is exactly why you need the ego fucked out of you never gonna happen
Cl3m3ntin3: you'll be begging for it one day but fineeeee, if u say so tell me how you'd do it, then? how would you fuck the ego (that you gave me!!!) outta me? tell me how you'd ruin me, damocles boy
D4m0cl3s: show me your pussy first let me look at how wet you are right now
Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!
D4m0cl3s: god, look at you if this is how wet you get thinking about eating my ass... we can put it on the maybe list but you'd be on your back, like you are now exactly like that, perfect and spread for me i'd start with my fingers
D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!
these two i'll push them into you so slowly that you'll be begging for more you'll be all whiney (so no change to normal lmao) but i'll curl them a little, just like you said you like it, and use my thumb to toy with your clit
Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!
D4m0cl3s: fuck i love it when you send videos i could watch that forever literal cinema the way your pussy leaks for me, christ i wouldn't be able to watch your pussy leak like that without licking it up i'd keep my thumb on your clit, gently circling it as my tongue began to toy with your entrance you'd be so leaky on my tongue wouldn't you? so so fuckin' wet for me
D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!
it's mutual, just so you know
Cl3m3ntin3: god i fucking love it when your tip gets all wet like that you are soooooo needy you wanna fuck me soooooo bad he he i stay winning!!!
D4m0cl3s: CLEM. CONTROL. YOUR. EGO!!
Cl3m3ntin3: FUCK. IT. OUT. OF. ME!!!!
D4m0cl3s: your ego is so big i think i'll just have to fuck you for hours at this point :/
Cl3m3ntin3: oh no :( such a shame !!! :(
D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!
D4m0cl3s: just imagine this stretching your tight little pussy open my cock is so much bigger than that dildo
Cl3m3ntin3: can't wait to feel you inside me i know it's gonna hurt but in like... the best possible way you're so big and thick such a nice cock ♡♡
D4m0cl3s: i'll go slow with you baby ease you into it
Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!
Cl3m3ntin3: you've got me soooo wet i think it'll be easy to push into me fill me up
D4m0cl3s: my needy girl look at you my cock belongs inside you your pussy already belongs to me
Cl3m3ntin3: come and claim it
D4m0cl3s: you're making it harder and harder to say no fuck im close
Cl3m3ntin3: same i wanna watch you cum
D4m0cl3s: fuck it i'll call? we can finish together?
Cl3m3ntin3: please
Incoming call from D4m0cl3s Accept | Decline (03 minutes : 14 seconds)
Call ended.
Cl3m3ntin3: nice work
D4m0cl3s: pleasure doing business
Cl3m3ntin3: as always i totally heard that little giggle tho ;)
D4m0cl3s: fuck off what giggle
Cl3m3ntin3: the one you did after you came all over your tummy :)♡♡
D4m0cl3s: never giggled in my life ever
Cl3m3ntin3: liar x
D4m0cl3s: i only laughed cause you did too >:(
Cl3m3ntin3: and i only laughed cause of how hard you made me cum you've got a gift, damocles boy
D4m0cl3s: and you've got the nicest pussy i've ever seen in my whole entire life
Cl3m3ntin3: you have to use a dating app to get your rocks off deffo a virgin :/ never seen a pussy before in your life :/ not much competition to compare me to, is there? :/
D4m0cl3s: i really do mean it when i say i hate you :) x
Cl3m3ntin3: i know you do babe
D4m0cl3s: wish we were never matched, actually
Cl3m3ntin3: same might just block you actually
D4m0cl3s: PLEASE put me out of my misery
Cl3m3ntin3: okay :D bye forever :D
D4m0cl3s: wait no don't :(
Cl3m3ntin3: you're a bloody seesaw boy always up and down either hate me or love me make up your mind !!
D4m0cl3s: lmao you've no idea but where's the fun in that? i like keeping you on your toes
Cl3m3ntin3: true i gotta run tho got a date with a real boy seeyaaaa x
D4m0cl3s: wooooah wait wait a date?
Cl3m3ntin3: yeah with someone in like.. real life... problem?
D4m0cl3s: no problem just surprised that's all
Cl3m3ntin3: that someone would want to date me?
D4m0cl3s: no that you'd want to date someone else
Cl3m3ntin3: breaking news: girl in her early twenties wants more than nudes from a stranger on the internet
D4m0cl3s: fair enough probably shouldn't continue this, then a heads up would have been nice
Cl3m3ntin3: you wanna stop?
D4m0cl3s: no no, i really don't, clem but you're right you do deserve more
Cl3m3ntin3: yeah i do
D4m0cl3s: i actually hate this wtf like i know you can do what you like and i can do what i like but i thought we had something good going?
Cl3m3ntin3: we do thank god i'm just lying about a date for attention :) <3
D4m0cl3s: what the fuck clem
Cl3m3ntin3: made you shit your pants didn't i
D4m0cl3s: CLEM.
Cl3m3ntin3: DAMOCLES BOY.
D4m0cl3s: so you're not going on a date?
Cl3m3ntin3: no you idiot you think i have enough time to be meeting new people when i spend all my free time sending you nudes? was just fucking with you wanted to see if you cared
D4m0cl3s: you could have just asked
Cl3m3ntin3: you'd have told me you hate me
D4m0cl3s: BECAUSE I DO you're actually mental
Cl3m3ntin3: he he u luv it
D4m0cl3s: i don't
Cl3m3ntin3: do basically started crying when you thought someone else might take your place
D4m0cl3s: you didn't even give me a chance to clean myself up you fucking menace !! just made me cum and then did a 180 what did you expect me to do?! you know how sad my dick looks right now?
Cl3m3ntin3: no show me
D4m0cl3s: get fucked you little cretin
Cl3m3ntin3: let me see your sad cock :(
D4m0cl3s: you're never seeing it again you don't deserve it after that little stunt
Cl3m3ntin3: so... ill see it tonight?
D4m0cl3s: .... .......... ............... probably now fuck off i've got a day to get on with might even go on a date
Cl3m3ntin3: no you won't :D
D4m0cl3s: i hate you x
Cl3m3ntin3: denial x
D4m0cl3s is offline
"Jesus Christ," you say, tone full of surprise when you walk into your living room. It's just gone midday, and you've finally risen from your hangover pit of despair.
Following the conversation with your Damocles boy, you had decided a nap was in order, but it only served to make your headache even worse. Turns out, the orgasm had just been a temporary solution. You need paracetemol, and you need it now.
"Jimin, actually," an equally hungover mess groans from your sofa. He's bundled in blankets, a pouty chin hooked over the armrest to look at you with puppy dog eyes. His expression screams 'water pls'.
"And Jungkook," a second voice whines from behind the sofa. A hand rises from the direction of the voice, covered in thick black inkings, before falling with a thud.
Your lips hang ajar as you look at them both, far more confused than you should be. When you glance over to the kitchen counter, you're greeted with the sight of what must have been a rager. There are bottles everywhere - mainly soju and beer - and there's a sticky sheen pooling around their bases. A packet of crisps is open on the hob, but most of the actual crisps are scattered on the floor. You're willing to bet good money on Jungkook being responsible for those.
"The fuck happened last night?" You ask, though you're able to pick up enough context clues from the photobooth pictures that are on your fridge door. They're stuck in place with washi tape, of which you don't remember buying.
"You didn't buy it," Jungkook says when you ask about it. "Stole it from the photobooth place. Little klepto."
"Brilliant," you grimace. The last thing you need is a scandal going around about Kim Seokjin's troublesome younger sister and her thieving ways. The media love a scandal, and Jin has been able to avoid them for the most part. "Joon and Jin?"
"Headed home before us," Jimin tells you. "Really don't remember a thing, do you?"
The last thing you remember is messaging your Damocles boy in the bathroom stall. You don't even really remember how the conversation ended. The rest of the night? Never happened, in your mind.
Still reeling, the day wastes away from you all.
It's spent huddled up on your sofa, Jungkook's Spotify connected to your speaker, as you try and decipher exactly what happened the night before. It's like you're the cast of a shitty Hollywood movie from 10 years ago - nothing makes sense, but it also kind of all does. Jungkook's got the least patchy memories. Remembers how you got home, at least.
There's only one thing he doesn't mention - partially because it happened this morning, not last night, but also because he wants to spare your dignity.
He's a light sleeper. Especially the mornings after a few too many drinks. As soon as the alcohol flushes his body, he has to get up, get water, go to the bathroom. Set his world to rights. This morning had been no exception.
Just a shame he happened to wake a mere matter of moments before your Damocles boy had called you.
No words had been spoken, no conversation took place - but with your phone angled awkwardly for prime shots of your most intimate areas, you had moaned a little louder than usual to make sure the mic picked it up.
And so Jungkook had heard it all - and had recognised the click of a Hush call coming to an end. He's had more than enough himself to know the tone by now.
Watching on as you laugh with Jimin about something nonsensical, mid-afternoon sun pouring through the cracks in your curtains, Jungkook is curious.
You don't notice the way he's studying you, nibbling on his lip ring as he does so.
The running joke between the pair of you about dating to piss off Jin has always been exactly that - a joke - but the idea of you dating someone else in the industry makes him feel a little... off.
He doesn't question it, though. Doesn't really know what to make of it. Doesn't like it, mind you.
As the evening begins to draw in, Jimin leaves first, with Jungkook set to follow suit half an hour later. He tells you he'll leave at 6, but he's still on your sofa when it hits 7:05PM.
"There's something about you lately," he says, scheming, dark eyes narrow. You narrow yours back right back.
"How so?"
"Dunno," he smiles. He wants to ask who you're fucking about with, but it seems too forward. You're close, and have been for years, but not as close as you used to be. His fault, really. He's the one who ditched you when he started dating some songwriter a few years back. "You just seem... preoccupied. What's going on with you, fizz?"
The nickname is so natural that it rolls off Jungkook's tongue as if he hadn't stopped calling you it around the same time he got that girlfriend. She didn't last long, but the slight chill to your friendship had.
"Haven't heard that in a while," you smile right back, as you take a sip on the fizzy orangade that you adore so much it had become a bloody nickname.
"Still suits you," he says, and he's right. Fizzy by name, fizzy by nature. "So you gonna tell me?"
You're not really sure what he wants you to say, so just shrug. "I'm fine, buddy. Are you okay?"
"I'm cool," he nods, aware of the fact you definitely don't want to talk about whatever it is going on with you - so he changes topic. "Nervous about tour, if I'm being honest. You're coming, right? Been contracted on?"
"Uh-huh," you nod. "For the European leg, at least. They haven't sent out contracts yet for the US leg."
"You'll be on it," he says with absolute certainty. He can't see any reason why you wouldn't be. They all like having you around. It's nice having a familiar face backstage. Nice having a friend.
"Hopefully," you agree, very aware that your job is incredibly sought after. You're not the only nepotism baby around, and know that the US leg will be a lot more... political, as it were. Record label execs will all be fighting for attention from the boys, and that could mean putting overqualified suits in job positions like yours, just for a little bit of Scout exposure.
"You really think they're gonna kick you off the roster?" he smiles, nudging you with his foot from across the sofa. "We'd all riot. Even Yoongi."
Now that is something you doubt.
"He'd probably be leading the counter-riot to have me kicked off," you roll your eyes.
"He's just pissy that he can't be annoyed with you," Jungkook laughs. "He wants to hate how you got hired, but he knows you're good at what you do. Knows that you'd have got the job with or without your bloodline."
"Or," you counter. "He really does just hate me."
Jungkook shakes his head. He's noticed Yoongi's coldness recently, too. Puts it down to stress from touring so intensely. Things were definitely different than they used to be - not necessarily any better, nor worse. Just different.
"It's understandable," Jungkook taunts you. "You are pretty unbearable."
He catches your foot as you go to kick him, surprised by how strong your legs actually are - but you're no match for his upper body strength. Not even when you try and use your other leg, as well.
"Some boys actually enjoy my company," you protest, still struggling a little.
"Uh-huh," Jungkook nods, biting down on his bottom lip. His eyes are sparkling in the same way they did after last night's concert. He's just messing, flirting with you for the fun of it, but he knows he shouldn't. Knows he's only doing it cause he knows you're talking to someone else. He's lost your affections before, and while you're just friends, he still doesn't like the idea of it happening again. He likes being number one. Likes being top of the food chain. "Sure they do."
He thinks he has the upper hand here, but he hasn't realised you've stopped fighting against his grip. You're gentle in the way you move your legs, lowering them just a little until they're on his lap. He lets them be. Pays no notice to the fact he's not entirely soft beneath his sweats.
You ignore it, too. Kind of. Press down a little, just to let him know you know. He doesn't react. Just cocks one of his brows, as if to say, 'so?'
And then he figures that throwing caution to the wind is the best option here. He doesn't want to let things get out of hand, and he's sure you don't either.
"So are you gonna tell me about your Hush boy now or later?"
The way your jaw drops is almost comical. The pressure of your feet eases, and Jungkook is sad to lose it, but he doesn't resist as you pull your legs up to your chest in panic. He's still got that cocksure grin on his face, amused by your reaction.
"What?" He smirks, reclining back into the corner of the sofa. His legs spread a little, and the bulge is even more noticeable. He's doing it to fuck with you, now. You don't even look in its direction, but he still has the nerve to say, "Eyes up here, fizz."
"My eyes are up," you almost gasp. "And so are you, apparently."
Jungkook knocks his head to the side, and scrunches his nose a little. Being called out for it makes him a little awkward, even when he's the most confident guy you've ever known.
"I'm just hungover-"
"Yeah, yeah," you roll your eyes, before reciting the same bullshit he always says. "I'm always more horny when I'm hungover."
The way you say it is so whiney that Jungkook can't help but laugh. "I don't sound like that you prick - and stop deflecting. I heard you this morning. Sounds like I'm not the only one who suffers from horny hangovers."
It's about now that your face blossoms with the most delightful shade of red. Your cheeks are hot, and Jungkook can see how mortified you are. He finds it fucking hilarious.
"You didn't."
"Oh," he sings. "But I did."
"I'm gonna throw up," you grimace. Flirting with Jungkook is all well and good, but the idea of him hearing you get yourself off is shameful. Truly horrific.
"You didn't remember that me and Jimin had crashed here, did you?" He teases, knowing that you'd have never done it had you known they were in the next room over - or maybe you would have done. You just would have been a little more discreet.
"Didn't have a clue," you confirm, before burying your head in a sofa cushion. This is probably the most tragic conversation you've ever had with Jungkook.
He just laughs. Finds it hilarious.
"You didn't hear anything," you tell him. "Forget it ever happened."
"Was kinda hot," he shrugs - but fails to tell you that his current semi isn't the first time he's been hard in your apartment today. "Doesn't answer my question, though. Who's your Hush guy?"
Your face screws up like a paper napkin. This is not a conversation you want to be having, nor one you thought you'd be having a few minutes ago when your feet were on his cock.
In fact, your eyes are still closed, face all cute and regretful when you say, "How the fuck am I supposed to know? Doesn't that defeat the object of Hush?"
Jungkook laughs. "Give over. Who is he?"
"I'm being serious," you say, and notice the way Jungkook's smile shifts. He looks a little concerned, now, brows hard. "I don't know."
"Fizz," he says, too shocked to address you by anything but a dumb nickname. His brows are furrowed, and it's his jaw gaping now, not yours. "How do you not know?"
And now you're confused, because you thought that anonymity was the whole point of Hush.
"We just... never disclosed it, I guess?"
"So, what?" Jungkook's tone changes. It sounds like he's accusing you now, berating you a little. You both look as bewildered as one another. "You just matched with some dude this morning and got straight to it?"
That's the only plausibility, Jungkook thinks.
He knows Hush, knows what it's like, but knows that the stakes are too high to keep the anon act up. If he isn't comfortable enough to share his identity within a day or two, he unmatches.
Sure, he's gotten himself in pretty risky conversations straight off the bat before, and has had his fair share of casual encounters thanks to the app - but he doesn't love the idea of you doing it, too. It's because he knows that he doesn't care for the girls he uses in those situations, and dislikes the idea of someone else using you like that.
"No?" You reply, a little offended. "We've been talking for like... a few months?"
Jungkook almost shrieks. "A few months?! And you don't know who he is?!"
You stay silent for a moment. You're reflecting his confusion back at him. He can't understand for the life of him why you don't see a problem with this - but you haven't worked your way through the Hush circles like he has. Your Damocles boy has been the only person you've ever given the time of day on there.
"That's the whole point?" You say, but it's really a question because you can't understand why he's so horrified.
"He could be anyone," Jungkook whispers, as if he's trying to keep your secret for you. "Anyone!"
"He's alright," you promise. "He's nice."
"You don't even know his name!"
"I'm pretty sure you can only name a handful of the girls you've fucked in the last couple of years," you scoff at his hypocrisy.
Jungkook got eyes like a hopeless romantic, all shiny and bright. People don't seem to realise such appeal affords him endless opportunities for casual encounters - of which he thinks it would be rude to turn down. Or at least that's what he tells you.
Realistically, you know he just likes fucking about.
"That's not the point here, fizz, and you know it," he scolds.
"Who I may or may not send nudes to is really none of your concern, Jungkook," you tell him.
"I know that," he insists. "But if this has been going on for months..."
"Then it's still none of your concern."
He holds up his hands, eyes wide. He's waving a white flag, even if he thinks you're a walking, talking red one. "I'm not attacking you, here. I just think you need to be careful."
"I'm fine," you tell him softly, and he's pleased when you smile at him in that fond way he's so used to. It feels a lot safer than the confusion on your face a moment ago. You know his concern comes from a good place. "It's just what works for us. It's as much my choice as it is his."
Jungkook nods, and lets it go, but not before warning you, "I'm not the only one of the guys on there. Tae and Jin, we both know they're not, but the rest of them? I dread to think of what Jin would do if he found out Joon was phone fucking his little sister."
You laugh now. Really laugh.
"I'm not kidding!" Jungkook protests.
"I'd recognise any of you in an instant," you tell him, and you really believe it.
You have no doubt in your mind that you'd be able to sense any of them off from miles away. They're too familiar.
"I fucking hope so," he laughs, and while you're laughing too, you feel a little uneasy.
Maybe he has a point. Maybe you do need to dig a little deeper.
But as Jungkook leaves, and you check your phone only to find a new message waiting from your Damocles boy, you can't help but feel a little out of your depth already.
21:43PM
D4m0cl3s: whyyyy am i so obsessed with u
22:10PM
leaving me on read? that's a new one (plus will probably only make me a little more obsessed (something about toxic girls that just really gets to me))
22:32PM
i lied i don't like toxic girls pls don't ignore me clem :(
Cl3m3ntin3: hey sorry was just a little busy
D4m0cl3s: it's cool you okay?
Cl3m3ntin3: yeah yeah, im all good you?
D4m0cl3s: im okay you seem a little... i dunno. off?
Cl3m3ntin3: sorry i'm fine really
D4m0cl3s: yanno, you say one thing but the way you're writing sends a whole entire different message it's v confusing, clem
Cl3m3ntin3: sorry i don't mean to be im all good, honest
D4m0cl3s: stop saying sorry
22:54PM
clem whats up you're never like this, you got me worried
Cl3m3ntin3: you sat at home worrying over a girl you can't even imagine?
D4m0cl3s: wdym?
Cl3m3ntin3: it's not like you can picture me not like you can think of my face so what are you thinking about when you're worrying? some pixels? your phone?
D4m0cl3s: right. where has all this come from? please know my face is very confused right now so whatever you imagine when you think of me - 'cause let's remember that you don't have a fuckin' clue what i look like either - add a little confusion to it that should do the job.
Cl3m3ntin3: i'm gonna add a little anger to it 'cause you seem pissed off
D4m0cl3s: well, yeah? i kind of am i don't get why you're, like, attacking me? like im the only one keeping a secret? it's you and me both, clem.
00:06AM
you can't just ignore me whenever i say something you don't like
Cl3m3ntin3: no? i think i can. goes with the territory of you not knowing who the fuck i am. no repercussions.
D4m0cl3s: where the fuck has all this come from? were we not good this morning?
00:13AM
and there you go again, leaving me on read.
Cl3m3ntin3: don't act like you actually give a fuck been 3 months if you cared, surely i'd know who you are by now?
D4m0cl3s: pot, kettle, black, clem it's a two-way street and fuck you if i didn't care, i'd just be leaving your shitty attitude on read, too.
Cl3m3ntin3: how can you care about someone you don't know? really? how can you?
D4m0cl3s: are you telling me you don't care about me?
00:17AM
if this is you leaving me on read again then you can go fuck yourself. like literally just unmatch me.
Cl3m3ntin3: im not leaving you on read im trying to figure out what the fuck i want to say just give me a moment, okay?
D4m0cl3s: m'kay.
Cl3m3ntin3: i care that's, like the most important thing here. i really care. i just i had someone irl questioning me about you today and it kind of left me stumped. why don't you want to know who i am?
D4m0cl3s: i kinda hate that an outsider has swayed your opinion on me so much don't get me wrong, i love that your friends care about you just hate that it makes you think i don't
Cl3m3ntin3: that's not an answer
D4m0cl3s: patience is a virtue, clem i was getting there my line of work... i cant commit to anything. it isn't fair. it isn't fair to let someone get invested in me. the moment you know who i am, everything changes it's far easier for you to be detached if i'm just a few pixels if this isn't physical
Cl3m3ntin3: you've spent 3 months getting yourself off to me and me alone that's commitment, isn't it?
D4m0cl3s: that's conditioning, clem you've made everything else so incredibly boring you're the only thing that excites me
Cl3m3ntin3: and yet...
D4m0cl3s: and yet. clem, we both know the second this becomes more than what it already is, there's no taking it back. i don't wanna lose this don't wanna lose you.
Cl3m3ntin3: i think it's really sad that you think being honest will result in losing me
D4m0cl3s: just how the cookie crumbles, clem i've seen it happen with my friends you were right when you said you deserve more than dick pics from some rando on the internet but even if you knew who i was, that's all i'd be able to give you i like you too much to cope with knowing how disappointed you'd be by the outcome of my grand reveal a few pixels can only disappoint you so much a real, tangible human? so much more.
Cl3m3ntin3: just a rando on the internet who sends me dick pics and yet you've got me feeling all kinds of fucked up
D4m0cl3s: it's mutual, if it helps really did mean it when i said i was obsessed with u earlier and for the record i don't really imagine a person when i think of you more of like.. i dunno. an aura? i guess. peachy. orange. a little green. very clementine inspired maybe that's it maybe i imagine clementines my teeny tiny clementine
Cl3m3ntin3: you make my heart hurt
D4m0cl3s: you make my heart hurt, too
Cl3m3ntin3: i'm sorry for... like going off at you
D4m0cl3s: it's cool kind of nice to see this side of you, i guess ur ego isn't always big shock
Cl3m3ntin3: oh no it is this is all the result of a bruised ego was very offended that you didn't wanna know i am i'll have you know one of my friends got a semi just looking at me earlier and yet the guy who makes me cum doesn't even wanna know me <///333
D4m0cl3s: firstly lets stop with this nonsense, okay? i would kill to know who you are and as soon as we're both in situations where it's fair i'm booking you a taxi and routing it straight for my place also fuck ur friend (not literally pls)
Cl3m3ntin3: oh? not gonna wine and dine me first? (i wont)
D4m0cl3s: absolutely not first thing im doing is checking to see if your head can fit through doors, you egomaniac
Cl3m3ntin3: and the second thing?
D4m0cl3s: fucking the rest of that ego out of you ♡♡
Cl3m3ntin3: and they say romance is dead
D4m0cl3s: im not the most romantic of guys
Cl3m3ntin3: i'll pretend im shocked
D4m0cl3s: are we good, clem?
Cl3m3ntin3: yeah we're good im sorry for getting so in my head about things don't even know why i got so pissed about you not being able to imagine me when i literally can't imagine you either lmao
D4m0cl3s: what do you think of when you think of me?
Cl3m3ntin3: honestly?
D4m0cl3s: honestly...
Cl3m3ntin3: your cock lmao i wish i could say something cute like your aura, but i'd simply be lying
D4m0cl3s: for fucks sake haha
Cl3m3ntin3: good cock, at least great cock, some would say
D4m0cl3s: some?
Cl3m3ntin3: yeah not me i'd say average :)
D4m0cl3s: average? AVERAGE?
Cl3m3ntin3: yeah :D
D4m0cl3s: i... do you need reminding or something?
Cl3m3ntin3: no? it's average :) !
D4m0cl3s: the man was too stunned to speak
Cl3m3ntin3: maybe i do need reminding then? could have sworn it was average? maybe even a little smaller?
D4m0cl3s: you are rubbing salt in a wound, miss teeny tiny clementine i've never been more offended
Cl3m3ntin3: hmm... prove me wrong?
D4m0cl3s: i want it on record that i hate you
Cl3m3ntin3: sure you do, baby
D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!
D4m0cl3s: does this help?
Cl3m3ntin3: a little? not much, though maybe it would help if I had some more context? maybe you should play with it for me a little bit?
D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!
D4m0cl3s: like this?
Cl3m3ntin3: ooo that's a little better only a little, though maybe more?
D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!
D4m0cl3s: what about now?
Cl3m3ntin3: maybe you should play with your balls a little? for like... spacial awareness?
D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!
yeah, that helps that really helps
D4m0cl3s: still average? or does it look like we both know it does?
Cl3m3ntin3: how do we both know it looks?
D4m0cl3s: like it would ruin your tight little cunt
Cl3m3ntin3: damn, damocles you're really coming for me now, aren't you? what happened to my pretty little pussy you love so much? it's cunt now?
D4m0cl3s: you don't want me playing nice right now you wouldn't be telling me i'm below average if you did you want me fucking you like i have a point to prove
Cl3m3ntin3: and what point would that be?
D4m0cl3s: that once i finally get to fuck your (pretty, perfect, fucking incredible) cunt, it's mine mine, and no one else's especially not that friend of yours who got hard looking at you
Cl3m3ntin3: i spy with my little eye something that begins with J (it ends in 'ealousy', suga) sugar** lmao typo
D4m0cl3s: suga on the brain? you a scouts fan?
Cl3m3ntin3: they're fine not what i want to be thinking of right now, tho
D4m0cl3s: my bad well, no, your bad actually who's your favourite member?
Cl3m3ntin3: shuuuuush time and place, babe also i have an idea
D4m0cl3s: go on?
Cl3m3ntin3: you got a bottle close by?
D4m0cl3s: ermmm like water bottle?
Cl3m3ntin3: yeah
D4m0cl3s: i've a chilsung?
Cl3m3ntin3: perfect me too wanna see your hand wrapped around it
D4m0cl3s: .... i have a cock right here and hard for you .... and you wanna see my hand around a bottle?
Cl3m3ntin3: just do it baby
D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!
oh my fucking god
D4m0cl3s: what?
Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!
oh holy shit why is your hand so small it doesn't even get around the bottle?????!! i'd literally like... eclipse it
Cl3m3ntin3: uh huh now wrap your hand around your cock you know the size difference now you know exactly what it'd look like
D4m0cl3s: god i'm gonna fucking destroy you arent i
Cl3m3ntin3: uh huh i think so jesus christ i haven't even been touching myself and look at the state of me
Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!
you did this this is all you
D4m0cl3s: all mine i'm never gonna share you god i gotta fuck you
Cl3m3ntin3: we've literally just had a full entire fuck off conversation as to why you cant
D4m0cl3s: im a boy im stupid i cant be trusted to make such decisions let me fuck you please
Cl3m3ntin3: no, baby you know you can't you gotta be patient
Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!
think of how well you'll be rewarded
D4m0cl3s: no i gotta fuck you i need to i think i might die if i can't
D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!
so hard that death is the only option
Cl3m3ntin3: the way you hold it around the base always gets me so fucked up all i can think about is the fact it will look just like that when you guide it into me
Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!
reckon im wet enough for you?
D4m0cl3s: i think you're wet enough that i'll never need to drink water again so fucking hot literally how the fuck do you even get that wet
Cl3m3ntin3: wish i could tell you truth is you're the only one who's ever got me like that
D4m0cl3s: fuck don't say shit like that, clem im too close
Cl3m3ntin3: you can cum, baby i wanna see it
D4m0cl3s: can i call? i wanna watch you too
Cl3m3ntin3: yes please pretty please
D4m0cl3s: always so good for me, clem ain't no fuckin' way im ever losing this
Cl3m3ntin3: just call me you sentimental prick ;)
Incoming call from D4m0cl3s Accept | Decline (01 minute : 37 seconds) Call ended.
Cl3m3ntin3: im so furious that was a call and not a video you fucking whined WHINED jesus i might cum again just thinking about it
D4m0cl3s: and they say men are easy
Cl3m3ntin3: fuck you, you know you're hot
D4m0cl3s: do i?
Cl3m3ntin3: yeah yeah you fucking do give me all this shit for my ego, but jesus christ you know exactly what you do to me
D4m0cl3s: and you know it's mutual the whine... yeah that wasn't intentional you're just??? unreal????
Cl3m3ntin3: probably a good idea that we don't ever fuck i think i'd stop being able to function like a useful member of society would just want to spend all day in bed with you
D4m0cl3s: you say that as we don't spend a fair amount of our free time doing exactly that just... not together but still together kinda i guess? does that make sense?
Cl3m3ntin3: it makes sense i'm sorry about earlier, still
D4m0cl3s: im sorry, too i know that this isn't like... conventional
Cl3m3ntin3: conventional is boring im gonna go get a shower quickly talk later?
D4m0cl3s: talk later miss u already x
D4m0cl3s is offline
BIG HIT ENT OFFICES Yongsan-gu, Seoul
"You can stop avoiding me, yanno," Jungkook mumbles as he comes to stand beside you.
The grey corridors of Big Hit all look the same, but this one's a little different. It's The Scouts stomping ground; space reluctantly given to them after the success of the last album. Told management they needed studios to work in underdisturbed. Three of them. Tae and Jin didn't care for one - are happy doing their own shit in the dingy old practise room in the basement - but Yoongi, Namjoon and Jungkook all threw tantrums.
Well, less-so trantrums and more-so well put together business plans an ROI graphs for some of the senior bosses. Hoseok was in charge of overseeing it all, and blew far too much budget on it - something of which has bitten them all in the arse, and keeps them tied to their label for longer, but they have freedoms, at least. More than most bands in their field. Oppotunities. Visibility.
At the far end of the corridor, closest to the snack machine, is Jungkook's studio.
There's silence as you watch the packet of chips you just chose drop into the vending chute, with little care for the fact he sounds stroppy. Though you don't look at him, you know he's pouting. Can hear it in his voice.
It's been a few days since he left your apartment and you haven't really spoken since. It's not like it's totally uncommon for you to go a while without chatting, but you are aware that you left a couple memes sent to you on read.
You weren't trying to be a bitch, he just sent them at bad times, and you forgot to reply. Seems as if your lack of consideration has left him overthinking, and you feel a little bad.
You crouch, knees cracking as you do, stuffing your arm into the machine and retrieving your purchases - plural. A packet of chips for you, and banana milk for him. He narrows his eyes as you hold it towards him. You're still crouched, eyes a little wide but impatient.
"Take it or I'll drink it myself, you big baby."
He wants to resist, but he can't. Something just so tempting about banana milk. Gets him every time.
"Was coming to see you, actually," you say as you return to your full posture, knocking your head to the side to indicate you want to walk. He follows your lead like he always does. It explains the banana milk, at least, and makes him feel a little easier. "Just been busy, haven't been avoiding you. Stupid. Anyways, had a meeting today about the next run of shows so thought I'd pop up and say hi before I left."
He hums to let you know he's listening, encouraging you to keep on talking as he reaches the door to his studio. It's pin-protected, so you wait till he's typed in the code to continue - though realistically, you both know you could have just typed it in yourself.
"How'd it go?" He asks, both out of politeness and general curiosity. He's always keen to hear about your life; what's going on with it.
"Yeah, yeah," you nod, entering first and taking a seat in his favourite desk chair as soon as you're inside. You drape your overshirt across the back of it, and ignore the way Jungkook's eyes briefly flitter towards your chest. His gaze doesn't linger, so you don't bother teasing him about it. "All good. Just going over some health and safety stuff."
He pops his banana milk down on the desk. Frowns. Sighs. "Up."
Every single time. Him and his bloody chair.
"But there's another chair right there!" You protest, knowing full well you're in Jungkook's ridiculously overpriced gaming chair, which really has no business being in a music studio - but dear lord if it isn't the comfiest thing you've ever sat on.
"Exactly!" He wails in return. "You, there. Me, here."
The way he gestures his hands makes him look like a flight attendant, all poised and direct, but you don't budge.
"Mhmm-mm," you mumble, trying to eat a chip as Jungkook tugs on your arm. "Me, here. You there!"
"You're gonna get crumbs all over it," he says with such a pout that you can't help but laugh. You know he's got a mini vacuum in his desk drawer precisely for times like these. You know because you're the one who bought it, after the fifth time you'd argued over something as trivial as a few crumbs.
"I won't," you pout right back, then promise, "I'll wipe my fingers."
He's about to say something back, before he realises that you are wiping your fingers - right along the hem of his shirt.
"For fucks sake, you little shit," he moans, wrapping his arm around your head to get you in a headlock. Should have just done this earlier, he thinks. The pair of you struggle for a moment, but he's too bloody strong. You squeal as he drags you off the chair and plonks you down in the spare seat. "Much better."
"You suck," you huff as you kick out at him, but miss as he sits himself down and rolls away with a cheeky little grin on his face.
He's about to reply all rather childishly, but a knock at his door breaks the contact of his eyes on yours.
You're thankful for the interruption. You don't like the way it feels when you look at Jungkook these days. It's a bit... too much.
"Who is it?" Jungkook calls, the frosted glass hiding the intruder, but not really. Even you can make out who it is.
"Yoongi," he calls through, to which Jungkook tells him that he can let himself in. He's one of the chosen few; the secret circle. In all reality, every single one of the boys knows Jungkook's passwords, but he tells himself otherwise. Somehow likes the idea of exclusivity.
"Hey, I- oh," Yoongi begins as he enters the room, stopping as he realises you're there. He's dressed down, a pair of black slacks and a white shirt a fair few sizes too large draped over his shoulders.
Dressed quite a lot like you, actually, though your slacks are fitted and high-waisted, and the white shirt you're in is tight. It clings to your skin, and now that your overshirt is hooked over the back of Jungkook's chair, there's not much hiding your silhouette.
They've both seen you in far less - there's a mutual agreement to never speak of your twenty-third birthday party and the bath debacle - but it's not often you're in anything that doesn't hide you up a little. It's just professionalism, and considering you're mostly around them at work, it makes sense.
But your shirt had ridden up a little from the struggle with Jungkook, and your midriff is distracting for Yoongi, apparently. He stays silent. Looks at you. Looks at Jungkook. Looks at your shirt, which is crumpled by Jungkook. Looks at the mess your hair is in following the headlock. Is unaware of the headlock ever taking place. Adds 2 and 2 and gets 5.
"Didn't realise you had company," Yoongi musters. "My bad."
"Don't mind me," you smile. "I can get gone, if you need time with Jungkook?"
"No, no," Yoongi insists, before turning to focus on Jungkook. The way he cuts the conversation short with you weighs on you. You and Yoongi had never been close, not in the same way you were with Jungkook, but there was a time when you would have been invited along with whatever he needed Jungkook for. Hasn't been that way for a while now, but it still makes you sad. "Just running through that demo you sent over, I've got some notes. I'll be in the studio all evening, so just come by whenever you're... done."
It dawns on you pretty quickly that Yoongi's jumping to conclusions. Your cheeks begin to flame, and you have to stop yourself from awkwardly laughing.
"I'm actually heading off now," you mumble, getting to your feet. The last thing you need is yet another thing for Yoongi to hold against you.
You like to tell yourself it's the whole nepotism thing - and honestly, it's an undeniable part of his disdain for you lately.
But you also know it's something more.
See, there are two things you and Yoongi will never speak of.
The first is your twenty-third birthday party, and the bath debacle that came with it. It was harmless, and he wasn't the only one there - Jimin and Jungkook played their part too - but it's an avoided topic to preserve your dignity more than anything else.
The second thing you will never discuss is the night that never was. The one you both agreed never happened.
When he looks at you, you know he's thinking about it.
But it's your best-kept secret, and you'd quite like to keep it that way, so you make your excuses and leave. Jungkook says bye, and that he'll text later. Yoongi doesn't even really look at you as you leave.
There's a momentum to your heartbeat as you leave the building, your staff pass beeping like a hospital monitor as you go through security. There's a buzz in your back pocket as soon as you're through the doors - not the kind you long for from your Damocles boy, but a just regular kakaotalk message.
When you pull up your phone and see his name, you're surprised, but also a little concerned. You wait until you're at the bus stop to check his messages - and when you do, you wish you never did.
Yoongi (personal): I've said the same to Jungkook as I'm gonna say to you. Think about it from Jin's perspective.
You can't help but laugh at his sheer audacity. Of all people, Yoongi has absolutely no right to berate you, nor your choices. He's completely missed the mark of the relationship between you and Jungkook - and he's really in no place to judge. No place at all.
And so you tell him as such.
You: Not really sure what you're getting at But tell me, Yoongi, did you think about it from Jin's perspective?
You know better than to mention the night that never was. Neither of you have spoken about it for months - a full year, almost - but he deserves to think about it if he's going to be a prick. Deserves to remember. Deserves to have it linger.
You watch as your messages are marked as 'read', and then you mute your notifications from him. How he thinks he has any right to police what you do - and who you do it with - infuriates you. Why waste your time, though? He's been nothing but an absolute arse to you over the past couple of months. Nothing will change it.
The frustration in your mind has you wanting to watch the world roll by. You let the bus you usually board roll on by, opting for the longer route instead. It won't come for another few minutes, but it's not so bad out today. The weather is bearable.
It's as you're waiting - a face of thunder and scowl foul enough to rival even Yoongi's on a bad day - that your phone buzzes. The corner of your lips curl. Cheeks turn pink. It vibrates again. And a third time.
So even though you mentally scold yourself for not waiting until you get home, you find yourself unlocking your phone and heading to Hush.
And sure enough, there he is.
D4m0cl3s: working late tonight
The second message is a picture. Has you gasping. It's a pair of dark trousers, unbuckled, zip down, but still in place - pushed open enough for you to see the thick outline of a bulge in white Calvins.
D4m0cl3s: thinking about you x
A soft laugh escapes your lips, and you forget all about your bad mood.
You reply, a grin on your face so large that you think it could rival a Cheshire cat.
Cl3m3ntin3: and they say romance is dead?? ♡♡
He replies instantly.
D4m0cl3s: i'm not trying to romance you, clem i'm trying to seduce you :) is it working? Cl3m3ntin3: no x D4m0cl3s: what about now??
The picture he sends through is obscene. Belongs in the centrefold of a top shelf magazine. Has you fucking drooling, a light whimper escaping your lips. The harsh wind of a taxi storming by reminds you that you're in public. You look over your shoulder to make sure there's no one walking by - not because you don't want to get caught looking at it, but so you can oogle at it for a little bit longer.
His fingers are wrapped around his thick cock, his grip tight. Like, real fucking tight. His foreskin is pulled down, and there's a small pool of thick precum glistening on his tip. It's so minimal, but so central to the photo that you know it's the main focus. He's letting you know just how horny he is, just how ready he is to fuck himself into you - and he's hoping that your pussy will be leaking like that, too.
Cl3m3ntin3: i'm on my way home can you wait for like 20 minutes? D4m0cl3s: i've got all night, clem take your time i'll be waiting for you Cl3m3ntin3: be home soooooon D4m0cl3s: travel safe, clemmie x Cl3m3ntin3: simp.
#yoongi fanfic#yoongi smut#yoongi angst#rockstar!yoongi#yoongi fluff#bangtan ff#bts x reader#yoongi masterlist#yoongi x reader#yoongi ff#rockstar!bts#dappleddaisies#byholly#dating app au#rockstar au#myg x reader
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We’ll Invite Something In by @smc-27 (book-verse)
@dot524: This is a fandom favorite and for good reason. In this canon divergence AU, Alex is President, Henry is out, and they never got together in their 20s. Instead, they encounter each other in their late 30s and a very different type of relationship ensues. They still hide it at first, but there’s a lot of living that they both have done and need to work through. I really enjoyed the character dynamics here and how the premise changed both Alex and Henry, making them bolder and more mature. Definitely read this one!
Eyes Blue, Like the Atlantic by bleedingballroomfloor (book-verse)
@dot524: A Titanic AU! Adapted by an excellent writer, this one has suspense, action, romance, and intrigue. There is a MCD (Main Character Death) in here and some other tags to be aware of, but also vibrant scenes with dancing, chasing, art, and formal wear. I really enjoyed it!
Clean Slate by @smc-27 (book-verse)
@heysweetheart-writes: This was just so excellent. I devoured it in no time, couldn't put it down. I love the way Alex just slips into Henry's life like a silk glove even though Henry has his hesitations. There's abslutely no angst at all other than "you're too young for me" "no, next question" I love it. I love Henry finally feeling young for the first time. I think that is something that Henry generally feels after meeting Alex, like he's never been able to, no matter at what point in life he is. ANYWAY I'm talking about Henry way too much again for a rec. Read this.
Most People Exist by @sprigsofviolets (book-verse)
@na-dineee: Henry, 30, is a nurse on a cancer ward. From the very first moment he feels an intense connection and attraction to his newest patient, the one who has a brain tumor and is named Alexander Claremont-Diaz. - The tags say it all: "Falling in love, Slow Burn, Angst with a happy ending, Hurt/Comfort". After reading this story I am a whole new person. I laughed and cried, had butterflies in my stomach, I felt it all. Hands down one of the best fics I've ever read!
after hours by @dumbpeachjuice (book-verse)
@na-dineee: How much can happen in a few hours? stutteringpeach: Hold my beer. 😅🤝 Reading this was truly a roller coaster ride, my stomach was doing somersaults non-stop: On his last evening in New York, poet Henry meets bartender Alex and the two spend the night together - in true "Before Sunrise" style. To sum it all up: enchanting, sweet, phenomenal, iconic!
No. 1 (Royal Red and Blue) Oil on Canvas by @captainjunglegym (book-verse)
@zwiazdziarka: This fic is so twisted and surprising in the best way! The summary did not prepare me for all the action that comes after the initial relationship drama and I'd really like to fawn over it some more but I don't want to spoil the fun of figuring out what really is going on and what are characters' motivations. Just give it a try.
Meet the Parents (series) by @14carrotghoul (book-verse)
@dot524: I really enjoyed these thoughtful character studies of Ellen and Oscar. The two short stories are a series of canon vignettes from Oscar and Ellen’s POV. These glimpses of the Claremont-Diaz parents add heart and depth to the RWRB canon, giving insight about how Ellen and Oscar think about parenthood, power, family, and each other.
Leave The World Better Than You Found It: A BONES AU by @treluna4 (book/movie-verse)
@myheartalivewrites: I really enjoyed this FirstPrince meets procedural TV show fic! With Alex as Booth and Henry as Brennan, they learn to work together, solve crimes--and fall in love, of course. Plus take down a very satisfying book villain.
No Laughing Matter by @inexplicablymine (book-verse)
@suseagull04: This fic is absolutely hysterical- a must read if you need something to cheer you up! It's also very relatable for anyone who, like me, has said things they've regretted in all the best ways!
in summer air by @acdsbff (book-verse)
@na-dineee: I need a vacation and vitamin D - maybe that's why this series (both POVs are covered 🥰) captivated me so much?! It is set on a Greek island, where Alex, just cheated on by his boyfriend, meets hotel owner Henry. What follows is a whirlwind speedrun romance against a beautiful backdrop. Really therapeutic for the heart on dreary days!!
here is a map (with your name as a capital) by @alasse9 (book-verse)
@dot524: What an incredible surprise to have this entire 50k story drop at once. In this canon divergent story, Alex and Henry start getting to know each other in Rio, when Alex helps him recover from a panic attack. Their friendship, and later their relationship, is a delightful slow burn with funny moments, heartbreak, and steady support of each other. I thoroughly enjoyed this start to finish — the characterization of both Alex and Henry is on point and I really enjoyed how the writer changed some of the scenes from the book while keeping key callbacks. A delight.
Claremont 2008 by @happiness-of-the-pursuit (book-verse)
@suseagull04: This friends to lovers AU is done so well! Having Henry and Alex meet as kids means we get years of their friendship before they even start dating, and it gives every aspect of their relationship so much depth through this entire fic. It also gives some events only referenced in the novel a completely different perspective, which makes them even better!
keep me in the moment (don't it feel so real?) by @anincompletelist (book-verse)
@heysweetheart-writes: I absolutely love everything that comes out of Sarah's magic little fingers and this was no exception. Alex and Henry are best friends and pinning over eache other unknowingly and an accidental lil discovery turns their relationship upside-down (for the better) absolutely recommended. I honestly loved it so much.
you know i can't be found with you by @dumbpeachjuice (book-verse)
@heysweetheart-writes: This was SO much fun. Alex was RELENTLESS and I absolutely love an older Henry. It was also very fucking funny. 10/10
the great duck fiasco by @alexclaremont-diaz (book-verse)
@suseagull04: A spy AU, dating apps, and Alex's Texas roots combine in the funniest way possible- definitely read this if you want a good laugh!
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fever pitch (b.b.) - part two
previous part | series masterlist
soundtrack: lavender haze - taylor swift pairing: footballer!bradley x popstar!reader synopsis: you and Bradley go on a date. they say the wrong things --or right things-- and surprise each other as they get to know each other better. warnings: language, so much unresolved tension, mentions of character deaths, fluffy heartfelt stuff, but also like sexy stuff 👀 notes: i had so much fun writing this! special shoutout to @gretagerwigsmuse who had to deal with my annoying thots at all hours. comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated as always. happy reading! <3
✨I do not have a taglist. Please follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass and turn on the notification to get the latest update on my fics✨
Subject: Guest Attendance Confirmation From: [email protected]
Dear Madam,
Thank you for confirming your information regarding your upcoming visit to Annabel’s.
It is our pleasure to host you for your dinner reservation on the 23rd of March, 2023, as a guest of our member Mr. Bradley Bradshaw. We hope that you have a wonderful experience dining and entertaining at the Club with us.
In order to ensure your positive and memorable experience with us, we kindly ask all members and guests to be aware of a few key rules of the Club:
DRESS CODE. We encourage individuality and style in your smart attire. After 6PM, gentlemen are required to wear jackets. Read the full dress code guidelines here.
PHONE & PHOTOGRAPHY. As a Private Members’ Club, we kindly ask Members and Guests to refrain from taking photographs within the Club’s premises. Posting content to your social media from your visit to the Club is not permitted. Phones must be kept on silent at all times and are only permitted for use in limited areas of the Club.
For guidance, read the Rules & Bylaws of the Club here.
If you require further information or assistance, please do not hesitate to reach out through this email address or by phone at +44 20 7946 0011.
Thank you and see you soon.
Best wishes, Maude Adams Floor Manager.
***
You’re not sure why you’re bracing for something to go wrong.
The restaurant is rife with opulence, with rich chartreuse and bronze walls and Japanese-style paintings over classic British architecture. Bradley booked a little corner booth just off the fireplace, the privacy still granting a nice view of the grandiose bar across the room. He pulled up your chair and told you that you look beautiful—a good three or four times, and it feels just as genuine as the first. With your show and his training the next day, you both had to pass on the booze and settle with some green tea to go with your food. Conversation flows effortlessly, exploring easy topics like your shared love of old movies, the Venn diagram of your music tastes, the novelty of the sport that he plays…
“Okay, but how did you get into soccer—I mean, football?” You smile sheepishly as you correct yourself. “Sorry. Wouldn’t wanna get maimed to death by the locals.”
He laughs. “Don’t worry. You’re safe with me.” And then he takes a deep breath as his finger toys with the condensation on the side of his glass. “It’s… uh, my dad, actually. He bought me a soccer ball for Christmas when I was like 2 and… it’s most of the memories I had with him, playing kickabout in the backyard.”
“Oh?”
He smiles—diplomatically, all things considered. “He died when I was 4.”
Your face falls. Fuck. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry…”
“Nah, don’t be. It was a long time ago. And I feel like he’s with me every time I step on the pitch.” Bradley nods, ever so reassuring. He’s had enough ‘I’m sorry’s’ for every time his dad comes up in conversation, and he doesn’t want you to feel obliged to do the same.
“But hey, I think it’s wonderful… that he’s right there in spirit with you every game.” You smile back, trying to save this slip-up in conversation. “And I bet your mom’s really proud of you, right?”
To his own surprise, he chuckles. It really is true that tragedy plus time equals comedy. “I mean, I like to think so.” He notices your questioning look, and realizes he needs to let you in on the joke too. “My mom died when I was 17. Cancer. I moved out here and lived with my godfather. Got scouted for Arsenal.”
And there it is.
You’ve been so worried about all the external factors going wrong, that you didn’t consider that the faulty one might be you.
The clinks of plates and cutleries suddenly become so loud. The subtle piano playing over the speakers sound garbled, like you’re underwater. And the salmon sashimi in your mouth tastes like lead now. How the fuck does lightning manage to strike twice?!
“I’m sorry, I…” and now you can’t even muster up a proper apology, because what do you even say?! The only thing that comes out of your mouth is a lame excuse, “I… thought it was a good idea not to Google you.”
His heart catches at the sight of you, all wide-eyed and dumbstruck. You wouldn’t believe it if he told you, but he thinks he might have just fallen in love with you there. Foot in mouth and all.
But you… you think you must’ve looked so stupid right now. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed—”
“No, no, no. It’s alright!” Bradley quickly interjects, that twinkle of amusement in his eyes still lingers. “I appreciate it, actually. I’ll take awkward moments with you over anything else you can Google about me.”
“Really?”
He nods. “Of course. I mean… it’s not like you killed them, did you?”
There’s a split second of silence, when you meet his playful gaze, and his mouth pulls into a grin over your petrified look, and then… the tension simply melts away in a sigh of tentative laughs. The garbled underwater music has come up to the surface, the dining noises dissipates, and everything turns back to normal… ish.
“Anyway, what about yourself? How did you get into… all of this?”
“Oh, it’s all I’ve ever known, really. Pretty sure I sang before I knew how to talk. I was always pestering my mom about ballet and piano lessons and living room concerts… I was that kid, you know?”
The image makes him smile, and it sends butterflies to your stomach. “Your mom must’ve been thrilled.”
“Eh.” You shrug flippantly, and that non-answer is enough of an answer for Bradley. “But she knew I was stubborn as hell, and she’s better off letting me tire myself out than trying to stop me, so…”
“But you didn’t.”
You shake your head. “By 5, I was on Broadway—”
His jaw falls open, and he looks at you like grew a new head. “I’m sorry. Five years old?”
You raise your hand in defense, not wanting to oversell yourself. “To be fair, though, it was mostly luck. My mom was working in the theater company and they needed a kid, so I volunteered to stand in—I mean, naturally,” you roll your eyes at yourself, “And they liked me. So they put me on. But I didn’t have to do anything but pretend to be asleep while the adult cast carried me around.”
“Still. That’s more than most people can say. You continued doing it afterwards, right?”
“Mm-hm. Stage, commercials, TV, the occasional movies… anything I could get my hands on.”
Bradley studies you with this look of awe—not an unusual reaction, he’s sure; it’s a pretty impressive feat. But he also catches a lost sense of melancholy in the way you say it, and he can’t help but ask, “Did you have a childhood at all?”
And your heart catches. That’s something nobody ever asked you before… “What do you mean?”
He pauses, realizing he may have inadvertently touched on a sensitive subject with this line of questioning. So he tries again more carefully. “I just meant… you’ve been working most of your life. Did you ever just get to be a kid?”
“I…” you trail off, considering your answer. You want to say yes, of course you did, but the little sting in your throat makes you question yourself: did you?
And with the soft look in his eyes, you know he knows the real answer to that. Both of you do.
It’s alarming how disarming he can be, and you would hate it… except you don’t. At least not enough to make you run off. “I guess, being in that kind of environment, I didn’t really know how to be a kid…? If that makes any sense.”
Bradley nods, understanding. He’s not entirely sure how to respond, but he wants to be empathetic.
“I went to school and made friends for a while, but…” Normally this would be an uphill point in your story, but tonight… this part is tinged with distant sorrow. “I got a record deal when I was 15, and suddenly I was living in LA and working in the studio or going on tours and… I just wasn’t a kid anymore.”
It breaks his heart, the thought of a childhood lost on you like that. “Wow. You really have lived a life, haven’t you?” He can’t resist but reaches out for your hand.
The touch makes your heart catch, and it feels overwhelming. It feels like you’re gonna burst, so you chicken out with a lame joke. “Haven’t slept in 22 years.”
Bradley can’t help but smile at that, squeezing your hand three times in comfort. And just like that, the bubble bursts and the world continues on its axis once again. He finishes his last slice of tuna tataki and washes it down with his konacha.
“You know, for how much you’ve done since you started out, I thought you’d be more… Hollywood.”
You raise an eyebrow in amusement. “Hollywood?”
“Okay, that came out wrong,” he admits bashfully. “I just… you’re very down-to-earth. And real. I guess I expected more, like, an attitude?”
“Oh? I can have an attitude…” you smirk coyly over your tea, “...if you can handle it.”
Fuck. You’re gonna be the death of him. It’s insane how easily you switch from being sweet and vulnerable, to flirty and borderline devilish. But he wasn’t born yesterday, and he knows he’s well-equipped to handle this back-and-forth.
“I think you’d be surprised by what I can handle.”
Oh, here comes the fun part. “Is that right?”
He nods, leaning into you a little bit from across the table. “I think you’d find a lot about me surprising.”
If the whiff of his Tom Ford Black Orchid catches you off-guard, you don’t show it. Instead, you mirror his body language, propping your chin on your knuckles for good measure. “Like what?”
God, he really wants to kiss you… but it’s way too soon, and he doesn’t know how you feel about public displays of affection. “Like… I’m a pretty decent cook. And I like reading.”
“An athlete who can read? My, my…” you smirk teasingly.
Bradley laughs. He walked right into that one. But he’s not ready to admit defeat yet. Instead, he makes use of that bedroom voice girls like so much to push the point further. “That’s right. I know how to use the washing machine, too.”
You bite your lower lip and sigh, shuddering a little from his low rasp but definitely playing up the dramatics. “You do? Mmh…”
Jesus. If that’s you faking it, he can’t wait to make you all wet and needy for real. “And you wanna know the best part?”
You meet his gaze, and for a moment, the lustful tension is real. “Yeah?”
He leans in just a little closer, head tilting as if he’s moving in for a kiss. Maybe if he throws it out there… “I can put together Ikea furniture.”
You throw your head back and feigns a quiet but dramatic moan for your one-man audience. “Oh my gosh, I think I just came in my pants a little.”
Fuck. He really wants to make you come now. With his fingers, his tongue, his cock—
Your gaze drops to his mouth, the stupid 80’s pornstache you’ve never been into before this, the soft inviting lips underneath. The ball is in your court now, and you know he would kiss you earnestly if you close the distance…
But you burst out laughing instead. Bradley releases the breath he didn’t realize he was holding, although your bright laughter doesn’t deter him from thinking dirty thoughts about you. If anything, it just makes you ten times hotter in his eyes.
“Well played. That was a good one,” Bradley concedes, his face turning just a little bit pink.
“We should probably stop before the staff kicks us out for having too much fun,” you lean back into your seat, looking around the restaurant, making sure no one is listening. Squeezing his hand three times as the next course arrives… not entirely putting the kiss off of the table either.
Bradley recommends the vanilla mille crepe to close the meal, and you come up with the idea of sharing a slice. The dessert arrives, a lush little golden brown thing with thin layers of cream in between, so simple and so intricate at the same time. He lets you take the first bite—insists upon it, actually. It’s the gentlemanly thing to do.
That, and he wants to watch your face twist in pleasure again. Eyes fluttering closed, chest falling in a sigh, lips parted ever so slightly... God, he can’t wait to be the one responsible for it.
“Amazing, right?” He beams at you, very pleased with himself.
“Mm, it truly is,” you hum in agreement, watching him take a bite. It gives you a naughty idea… “It’s so amazing, I might just hijack this whole thing.” You jokingly pull the plate a little closer to you.
Bradley playfully holds the plate back, looking faux offended. “Hey! Come on. You know I’m a little bit stronger than you, right?”
“Please. That’s never stopped me before.”
“Really?”
“I have my ways…” your finger reaches out just enough to touch his, just slightly.
Between that and your eyes darkening in mischief, Bradley fights hard not to turn into goo under your slightest touch. He bites the inside of his cheek to contain himself. “You’re really making me earn this, aren’t you?”
“Why? Girls never gave you a hard time before, Mr. Big Time Football Man?”
He laughs. “No. But you’re probably the only one giving me this hard a time for a bite of dessert.”
“Is that all we’re playing for? A bite of dessert?” you smirk, egging him on.
“What else do you think we’re playing for here?” He takes a second bite, maintaining eye contact as he does so.
You take another bite and lick the cream off of your fork. “I don’t know. A bite of… something else?”
Ah. So we are interested. Bradley is unfazed as he gently warns you, “Careful. I might take you up on that.”
“Good. I was hoping you would.”
The tension rises as reality sinks in. You both want to fuck, and looking at the trajectory of the evening, there’s a good chance you will. And it sobers you the hell up, pulling you both straighter in your seats. Sharing the slice of cake in quiet civility. Keeping a completely respectable distance, as if worried you don’t trust yourself not to climb over the table and kiss him senseless.
But the game… oh, the game is on.
“I don’t know about you, but… I was thinking maybe a few bites, though.”
“Oh?”
“Oh, yeah. I intend to explore every part of this… dessert.”
You stop chewing for a moment. There’s something so hot about how he says it so casually. “That’s… very optimistic of you.”
“Not optimistic enough to decide if kissing you out here was a good idea,” he admits sheepishly.
“Why is that?”
Bradley shrugs. “Just a hunch.”
He’s right, of course. He didn’t choose an ultra-exclusive, members-only establishment with a no-phone policy just for kicks. He sees the security detail that follows you around, lurking at a safe distance—from back at the club. And tonight, you’re traveling light with just two bodyguards, each strategically posted near you and the exit, but it’s still more than he’s ever encountered. There’s no way you would risk a first kiss in public, no matter how discreet the place is. No matter how much you like him.
And you like him a whole lot.
“Tell you what…” you put the fork down as quietly as you can. This is the moment of truth. “I’ll let you kiss me all you want back at my hotel, hm?”
Bradley’s eyes light up instantly. He takes a moment, not so much to consider his options, but to process what’s about to happen. “I would like that very much, yes.”
“Alright, then. Shall we?” you smile brightly, flagging the waiter for the check.
“Uh, yeah. Totally. We shall,” he stammers a little, recovering fast enough to snatch the check and slips his credit card in the tab. Barely addressing the waiter as they walk back to the till.
It all happens so fast, and you whine in complaint. “Oh, come on!”
“What, was I supposed to let you pay or something?”
“You were supposed to let me pretend to fight for it, at least…” you huff.
He smiles in amusement. You are so adorable, it makes his heart fucking swell. “Okay. Next time I’ll let you pretend. I’ll even give you a little pushback for good measure, how about that?”
“Perfect.”
“Now, let’s go back to your hotel and… I don’t know, pretend you have to try really hard to resist my charms.”
“Yeah, okay.” You chuckle in agreement. This is really happening. Wow. And just as the excitement sets in, another point of concern pops up in your head, like a really annoying notification. “Did you drive here or…?”
He nods. “You wanna take my car?”
“No, I got a car waiting for me…” you smile apologetically, glancing at her bodyguard. There’s no way they’re gonna let you jump into some guy’s car. “And there’s gonna be paps out front…” Here comes the tricky part. “Would you… mind if we… go separately and meet up at my hotel?”
Oh. Bradley’s face falls a little upon realizing that he can’t just walk out the door with you. He sees how this works. You don’t want the media to jump on this first date, and it’s actually a smart move. Besides, what’s a few more minutes to a whole night of complete privacy? “Sure, no problem.”
You nod tentatively. Well, that was surprisingly easy… “And just to be clear, this has nothing to do with you. It’s just… this whole thing can be a circus, and I don’t want you to deal with anything you didn’t sign up for.”
He smiles at you. Bless you for being so thoughtful, but it does make him wonder if other people have had trouble with it. But maybe that’s a question for another time. “Hey, I totally understand. We’ll just meet up at the hotel and leave it at that.”
“I’ll text you, okay?”
You squeeze his hand gently before you get up, making your way out of the restaurant. Powering through the camera flashes as soon as you walk out of the front door. Giddy because you know something these vultures don’t.
Meanwhile, Bradley sits. Waits. For one minute, and two, and three. Looking at people walking in and out, wondering how inconspicuous he would be if he walks out now.
And then…
His phone buzzes.
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