#but also number one it's annoying how many people are like finally red velvet is back to red velvet

[shallitickleyournerdbutton]

After the heartache of the Volume 8 finale, I would like to return to a happier point in the show and suggest some memes/jokes that I like to think the students at Beacon would have had. More closely inline with the RWBY Chibi-verse, than the actual show - where Nothing Bad Ever Happened.

"Who's child is this?" being used to refer to Ruby - the youngest student at Beacon - when she's left unsupervised and/or doing something odd.

"I'd let Glynda punish/whip me for one corn chip."

Every now and again "Missing - Have you seen this person?" posters for Professor Peach will pop up around campus. No one knows who it is that keeps making them.

Vomit Boy candids being taken and shared any time Jaune is Suffering™️ on some form of transport.

The Great One plush of Pyrrha exists in-universe... and becomes the go-to prize for any stupid competition between the students. There's at least a dozen of these dolls on campus now, owned by various people and won as "spoils of war."

There's a dedicated chalkboard in the combat room for tallying how many times Nora has launched someone into the stratosphere. Notable mentions are listed on the board alongside her of other people who have achieved this feat - including Yang, Yatsuhashi, and Glynda.

(She launched both Port and Oobleck one day when they kept annoying her. Sometimes, their screams can still be heard if you listen closely enough.)

"There's that old guy again..." "Oh, shopkeep? Yea, he's everywhere. Don't think too much about it."

This leads to "Don't think too much about it." becoming something of a slogan for every time anything unusual happens.

"Candy canes, kids! One for Sun Wukong, one for Yang Xiao-Long, ooh four for Coco Adel, you go Coco!"

"I--"

"Andnoneforweissschneebye~"

Team STRQ having something akin to legend status at Beacon, whispered in hushed voices for fear and reverence of their names. There's a war between the students regarding team JNPR as their successors vs. the students who insist JNPR are not anywhere near worthy of such a title.

"How many team CRDLs does it take to beat Pyrrha?"

Blurry fancam-style videos of the Qrow vs. Winter fight out in the courtyard being traded around like baseball cards with other students. Some try and manufacture a "rematch" of this with the materials they've got - trying to get Ruby and Weiss to fight each other. 

That weird sing-song "HellOooOo~" that Yang sometimes does being mimicked by everyone. And I mean everyone.

Any time there's a significant lull in conversations or classes, someone often asks "Why are we here?" which never fails to make everyone in the vicinity groan.

"Ozpin is compensating for something" jokes about his office chair - including at least one popular response being "it's the war crimes", without them knowing just how accurate they actually are.

"On a scale of Ren-Nora, how excited do you want me to be?"

"Ladies Love Lavender" referring to Lisa Lavender having her own in-universe fandom mostly comprised of women. (Lavender being associated with lesbians irl, and I just think this would be funny.)

The sight of Ren just picking up and carrying Nora away from something is so commonplace that other people start doing it to their friends when they Need To Stop.

"Why is Blake's bow so big?" "Because it's full of secrets."

Blake being a closet faunus being such a poorly hidden secret that by the time she finally takes off the bow no one actually even notices. 

The betting pool surrounding exactly what it is in Ozpin's cup - coffee being one of the least popular options, and souls being the top choice.

Using Yatsuhasi as a unit of measurement. 

Photoshopping adorable images of Velvet onto various "cute" animal memes.

Everyone wanting to be spanked by Coco Adel. 

"I'd let Fox blow me up too."

"Why is Weiss' hair so long?" "To reflect the length of her father's crimes."

Everyone mimicking Pyrrha's memetic "I'm sorry!" anytime they apologise for anything. Even going as far to do it while apologising to things that don't require apologies - like inanimate objects.

"Are Port and Oobleck, you know... 💅?"

In fact, just that 💅 being used to refer to a large number of people at Beacon. Actual LGBT students picking this up and using it towards grimm when they're attacked to question the sexuality/homophobia of the grimm targeting them over their peers.

Threatening Neptune with water anytime he flirts with a girl who is clearly Not Interested in him.

No one knowing who, exactly, the other two members of team SSSN are - with wild theories abounding about who they may be. Popular choices include Shopkeep, Zwei, and Professor Peach.

This persists even after their tournament fights where they're shown. Scarlet and Sage are perfectly content with this, and participate.

"Arslan's/Pyrrha's back must be aching from constantly carrying her entire team."

And the respective responses of, "Reese/Nora are alright."

Similar jokes about Glynda also carrying the entire faculty/academy on her back.

"Salutations!"

The war between the "Irondaddy" fanbase, and his haters - who refer to him with various derogatory versions of his name. "Metalpenis", "Coppercock", "Chromeshaft", etc.

Anytime someone is doing something ~questionable~ donning a pair of glasses and/or imitating Oz or Oobleck pushing them back up their nose with accompanying menacing body language. (Kubrick Stare optional.)

Mercury having a foot fetish, courtesy of the people who caught him sniffing shoes at the festival.

"Did <character> just die?" "You know, it was really unclear." any time someone takes some insane damage in a fight and isn't seen for some time afterwards.

Everyone trying to locate and get a pic of the ~mysterious~ fourth member of team CMSN, who has only ever been spotted once - her tournament fight in the first round. Beacon's version of "Where's Wally?"

The Sympathy Fund for Emerald and her one-sided crush on Cinder. "She could honestly do so much better."

People offering themselves up as tribute to spar with Pyrrha/Yang/Coco/Sun just so they can be beaten up by the hottest people on campus.

"I drink milk!" being used as a defensive argument in wildly inappropriate contexts.

Naming grimm really boring names and attempting to keep them as pets. 

The innumerous times Port has allowed a "zoo-break" to happen under his watch and everyone having to assist in recovering his prized subjects.

"Where the fuck are all the fourth years?" "Ozpin's soul collection."

Candid shots of Glynda Suffering™️ being shared similarly to the ones of Vomit Boy.

Ranking people based on their Patience Levels - Pyrrha, Ren, Glynda, Emerald, and Fox being frequent top markers based on the bullshit they put up with from their respective teams.

"Saint Pyrrha" being a common nickname for her, and her neverending niceness towards people who absolutely do not not deserve it.

Weiss' "Hey!" being replicated amongst the student body and slowly growing more and more high-pitched in its replication until it eventually just becomes a shrill noise. Even so, everyone still knows what it means - and Weiss is absolutely unamused by all of this.

In fact, a lot of early!Weiss' comments being mercilessly mocked by everyone - "I'm a victim!" being one of them.

Renowned fear permitting amongst the student body regarding Yang's red eyes meaning Serious Business. Morphs into references of "going full Yang" to mean having rage-fuelled temper tantrums.

"Never miss a beat, never miss a beat" becoming a mantra for focusing on a task. This inspires several remixes of Neon saying it, and again with no one knowing who it is making them.

By all means, feel free to add any more that you all think of! I could use a laugh!

Also, check the notes for additions!

[stuckybarton]

Red Velvet Cake

Summary:   Behind the sweet smile and angelic personality was a spitfire when someone dared destroy her little bakery in the heart of New York. Steve finds that out the hard way when his girlfriend's bakery becomes collateral damage in a small fight in New York. Warning: Profanities. Mild Violence. (Two Loud Slaps to be specific). Grammar Errors. Not Beta’d. Characters: Unnamed Female Character x Steve Rogers Words: 1,775 A/N: I don’t know, I just thought of this idea and thought why not. Masterlist

You had never thought your life would become this wild, but you've gone with the flow. Who would have ever thought that finally starting this bakery in the heart of New York. It was tough, with just a handful of employees, would bring you into so much chaos in your once peaceful life.

Meeting the Avengers had been a wild ride with a smooth beginning for you. First meeting Sam, a man that was looking for a quick snack post-work out. A man with a soft smile and quick quips that brought a smile on everyone's faces every single time he would come to visit. Then eventually, he came not alone, but with two of his best friend and your life changed ever since.

Bucky Barnes was the mellow of the trio, preferring to stay in the background while Sam would try his hardest to flirt with you and push his other friend with you. But he always had this charm on him that had a few of your female employees swooning just by the simply nickname of Doll he would throw at them.

But Sam's other friend had all his attention on you just as much as you had your entire attention on him. The dame that always spoiled him with sweets and made him enjoy morning runs more now that your bakery become their daily stop after.

It started out with the flirtation, at least that was what Steve believed it to be. Having been used to Sam's daily flirtation, you got so immune to it that it had become easier to hide the warmth in your cheeks or the heart eyes that Sam and Bucky were once quick to point out when Steve wasn't looking. Eventually it ended with him finally asking you out for lunch and the rest, as they say was history between the two of you.

Eventually, it had brought you into the circle of what was his team. The Avengers. Starting with one Tony Stark that had visited your bakery one fair morning and brought everything in your bakery long before the trio would come for their visit. It was an eventful day for you, that much you could admit. Everyone had the rest of the day to themselves and gave you time to spend with Steve, as annoyed as he was to not be able to have his usual treats. You made him your special apple pie as compensation, much to his enjoyment.

Then it was the rest of the team, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff, and Vision. Visiting after getting a taste of your pastries that Tony Stark had generously provided for the team. Now like the trio, you now have another trio you can call as your regulars. Then there was Clint Barton, Thor, and Dr. Bruce Banner that eventually came to visit after everyone had egged them on and they would come for a few pastries and coffee, but not as much as the rest of the bunch. You were alright with that, being able to meet Steve's team and knowing each and every single one of them were good people in their own little way was enough for you.

Weeks turned into months, and months now turned to almost two years. Your life at the bakery was filled with ups and downs just as much as your relationship with one Steve Rogers. The constant fear you had when he was on a mission, uncertain whether he would come back alive or not.  Then there was the more often than not times that you were too consumed with the bustling number of customers than you only had time to give him a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek before helping out on the cashier. It had once been a fight between the two of you because of your line of work, but you would constantly compromise. He was out saving the world while you were living the dream you had always wanted for yourself with baking. Instead of his apartment in Brooklyn, Steve was now living with you, in the humble little apartment you had above the bakery. Your little piece of heaven.

This life you had created with Steve was something you had never thought you'd have for yourself but you were enjoying it immensely. You would want nothing more in your life. Until things had gone horribly bad and you want nothing more than to kill Steven Grant Rogers and the rest of the Avengers.

~

Y/N was going to kill him. That much Steve had known while they continued on with the debriefing. A quarter of New York City was wiped clean by the attack of the alien overlord attempting their luck on the planet. As much as Tony had assured that they could stay in the tower while repairs were being made, He was still uncertain with what you would be feeling because of it.

Nothing hurts him more than seeing you sad or disappointed.

"What's the ETA on the repair?" he inquired as soon as the meeting was done.

"More or less two weeks. We've had our team assure Y/N that her employees would be paid full for the two weeks while we are doing repairs." Tony explained. "Last time I heard she barely spoke a word while she helped her employees with cleaning up."

Steve could only sigh, annoyance peaking through his mind. It was worst than he thought.

"Mister Stark, Ms. Y/L/N is on her way to the meeting room." F.R.I.D.A.Y announced.

Before the A.I could finish with the announcement, the sudden slam of the door had everyone's head turn, every single one ready for another fight. But the sight of the innocent Y/N looking displeased brought everyone to a slight calm. There was still a problem, but this was better than another alien attack.

"Babe-"

The resounding slap had everyone else wincing. So much for the Super Serum. Everyone could see the red imprint on Steve's face and your shaky hand responsible for the said mark on the Captain's face.

"Your fucking shield destroyed the ramekins." you snapped, Steve could practically see you shaking from where you stood in front of him.

You were nothing, compared to him, a Super Soldier. But just the sight of you, fuming to the nose made everyone believe that you can easily take him on. This was a genuine surprise for Steve. He had seen so much side of his girlfriend of nearly two years. Through many stages of emotional turmoil, happiness, sadness, annoyance, dysphoria, and that godforsaken puppy dog eyes that he could never say no to. But this, the sight of you  angry, genuinely furious was the last thing he would have ever thought to see from you.

"Everyone has a long day, Y/N." Tony approached and the glare than now focused on her made it very well known that his presence and his response was the biggest mistake he has ever made in the moment. "Why don--"

Tony wasn't able to finish his sentence as he gets to experience the same slap handed to him by you. Without the Super Soldier Serum, the sound of the slap resounded even louder than the former. Everyone was left in a mix of shock and the need to hold in their laughter at the shock look than now lingered on Tony's face as he rubbed his red cheek.

"As for you," you snapped pointing your finger right into Tony. "You're going to pay for both the fuckin bakery and my apartment upstairs. Of all the places Stark, you just had to throw the alien on my newly renovated bathroom."

Tony could only nod.

"Your people also need to talk to my employees, some of them are injured because a big fucking green dickhead thought it would be nice to throw alien matters into the basement like basketballs through the hoops." you snapped side-glancing towards the guilty Bruce Banner that refused to make any eye contact with you. "You're covered for their hospital bills, therapy, and two weeks of their supposed shift."

Tony gaped nodding.

"Jesus, why the fuck does it always have to be New York, better yet, why the hell does it have to be in the US? There are so many fucking countries in this world." You ranted turning your attention back to Steve that now broke into a small smile at your outburst. "You're not off the hook. We're staying here, but you're sleeping on the coach until further notice."

What smile he had now comes falling from his face. Blinking, this was a dangerous situation. Far more dangerous than his earlier encounter with the aliens only hours ago. But all he could do was nod, not knowing if any protest from him would result in a worst punishment.

"Sam," you turned to the man that now looked scared to be your focus. "Can you show me to the kitchen? I'll try making everyone someone to eat. God knows you're all starving." you request, all signs of anger now slowly dissolving from your features.

Steve didn't know what scared him more at this point, your anger or how quick you were able to recover from said anger. As Sam escorted you out of the meeting room, the rest of the team also made their way out to help you in whatever you may need in the kitchen. It now left Steve and Tony alone, practically still feeling the aftermath of your slap.

"Having second thought about proposing, Lover Boy?" Tony finally broke the awkward silence.

Taking a deep breath, the first chuckle all day finally escaped his lips.

No, he was far from having second thoughts. The engagement ring hidden in his locker room made it evident to him what he was about to do on their 2nd anniversary. It would take some convincing on your part after what happened. But you loved him enough to forgive him for what happened, since technically it wasn't really his fault why the bakery was ruined.

"The proposal is still a go, Tony." he responds finally leaving the meeting room to making his way to the kitchen, already hard at work with cooking what he assumed was spaghetti and meatballs and his favourite red velvet cake.

"Steve's not having any cake right?" Nat asked as soon as she caught sight of him.

"You know what, Romanoff--"

"Not even a fucking crumb." Your response even with you facing away from him had everyone roaring in laughter and Steve rolling his eyes even with the smile on his lips growing bigger at the situations.

The things he has to endure for love.

[neonponders]

I never thought I’d write a court jester!Steve x King!Billy fic, but here we are. I entirely blame @ghostofjellyfishforgotten and @drinkingbeerfroma for this 💋

The original king!Billy and jester!Steve fics are here~ (this is a gift for Ghost and meant to be read in tandem with their fics 🌹)

Drinkingbeerfroma’s fanart is here~​​ (the enabling source, send them some love 🌹)

P.s....you can probably tell how much of The Witcher: Blood and Wine influenced this for me lol Ch. 2 coming soon! Or, you know, some time!

Read on ao3.

• • • • • • •

Billy strolled into his royal chambers with a tune on his lips. Usually the rustle of clothing, the scoot of furniture, reacted to his whistle so that he could meet his jester right at the door. Or by the bed.

Then again, Steve did wander. Perhaps that’s why he worked as a jester: always the desire to move, to fidget, and it had lent into a natural proclivity for acrobatics.

Billy had never much cared for the athleticism of the job. Not that it wasn’t impressive, but the stunts were the bottom of his jester’s abilities. His Steve.

Steve, who was nowhere in the expansive rooms. Billy huffed a sigh through his nose. He began loitering around, investigating what his jester had left behind and what it could mean for where he’d gone.

Except…he’d left everything behind. Billy’s gaze locked on the sapphire and green velvet of the suit he’d gifted Steve himself, now left in a rumbled state on the bed. The gleaming silk fibers moved with the midday light of the window as Billy circled around the bed to touch them, as if to test that they were real. The fool as good as lived in the king’s royal chambers by this point, so he opened the dresser beside the large writing desk and—

Steve’s original suits and garments sat in the drawers, untouched. The yellow shirt Billy had torn—twice—until Steve left it in disrepair, tired of mending it. The red and purple suit which he’d first strolled into court wearing. His blue boots. The red boots. The god-awful yellow boots to go with that shirt apart from how stained they were from daily living.

What the hell is my fool wearing? Billy mused in disbelief, his amusement only checked by worry.

Amusement that snuffed out under the weight of a paper he finally saw on the desk itself. Both of Steve’s jester hats stood on either side of it, crowning the white square to garner Billy’s attention. More than once, Billy had marveled at his jester’s ability to read and write. This was not one of those times.

Majesty,

An emergency called me home. Nothing to worry about. I’ll return soon.

Yours,

Steve.

Billy read those four lines over and over again, worry tussling with indignant rage, and then confusion. He wanted more out of a note from Steve, which ought not be the prior concern in his mind, but there it was.

Why not address me by my name? This note is for me, nobody else. Who did you fear seeing it? In my own chambers? We’re far past courtly manners.

Largest understatement of his entire reign, but whatever. More annoying and concerning details eclipsed Billy’s focus.

He had no idea where ‘home’ meant for Steve. His Steve. Billy’s pride ordained that Billy is his home; what other place—or person—could have the audacity to yank his fool right out from under him?

Billy’s voice roared down the corridors outside his chambers. His staff was certainly used to making haste in their duties, but this was something else. The king had lost something precious to him, and hell would shiver until he had it back.

It is both a blessing and a curse that the lesbians in his court did not fear him.

“Would you shut the hell up?” Heather barked, swinging out of her room fully dressed in robes but hair a disaster. “Some of us like to do our own fucking now and again.”

“Where is Steve?” Billy growled, damned note in hand. “When did you last see him?”

“This morning,” she sighed with a tone that Billy did not understand until she added, “When he left with Robin. He warned me that you might be grouchy—”

“Grouch—” he began to seethe, but Heather took the paper right out of his hand to give it a look.

“He said he left you a note, your majesty,” she purred through a voice he now noticed to be quite raw. Overused. Her eyelids hung low like she was drunk, or three orgasms gone to the wind.

This only abated Billy’s nerves slightly. Steve genuinely left on his own?

“Where is home?”

Heather frowned at the lines. “For a musician, he isn’t great with words.”

“HEATHER.”

“Same home as my lady, Robin’s. They complain about their corner of the kingdom often enough,” she retorted while surrendering the note as if it had caught flame. “Good grief. How many months has it been? You really don’t pay attention. Your majesty.”

He grimaced pointedly at her lackadaisical manners this morning, but snatched the page up. The sour expression did not fade as he asked, “Who are you fucking if Robin’s not here?”

Heather’s groggy eyes rolled. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself many times over. You’re not the only one around here with an abundance of energy.”

Fuming and feeling too hot for his clothes, Billy marched back to his chambers, yelling orders about a horse.

* * *

More than one person urged against this decision. The more people who tried to talk him out of it, the more disheartening the whole point of secrecy became. Then again, roaring for the whole castle to hear, might not have been the wisest start.

So he sent a rider in one direction, on some pointless “errand for the king,” while he road in another.

It had been a long time since Billy wore commoners’ clothes. He also did not usually go clean-shaven, but he was a different person now. A lone rider on the king’s road, journeying his way to the edge of the kingdom. Two advisors had urged him to take an entourage, at most his best guardsman—but Billy is the best guardsman. First knight and crown prince under his father, The Tyrant. Every dawn stolen from him until the late king’s passing, utterly devoted to training hard, practicing consistent, and never, never losing.

Until the old bastard finally croaked from pneumonia. How simple. How mortal. And ironic, considering his playboy—rat of my blood—heir paraded around with open shirts whenever he was off duty. Constantly challenging gods and climate to do away with him whenever they wished.

The gods took a different king, though. Billy is the monarch now, and for a while, he will be nobody. A fool searching for his fool, and it was not lost on him how ironic his own death might become. But traveling alone on his own roads did not deter him. He’d been on these highways many times—hell, he’d even been assigned to designing and monitoring the reconstruction of the kingdom’s infrastructure.

His last steps on these roads occurred during the funeral tour for his father. An obnoxious tradition, but he’d made the journey in his first month as king. He wondered if anyone would recognize him now. He’d grown his hair out, and so often adorned his face with nothing less of stubble; often indulging in his own shaving kit to manage his facial hair himself and styled it differently whenever he wished. He liked the way lovers shivered against him when he touched their skin. When the lion pressed his lips against the lamb’s pulse.

He liked applying creams to Steve’s inflamed, beard-burnt skin.

He sighed over his horse’s even, medium paced trot. He was a fool, indeed.

* * *

The only thing keeping Billy from scolding himself for knowing so little about his jester, was the fascination of where he came from. Lady Robin entered court to jeers and teasing over her humble, bumpkin origins—before she rightly debated and venomously talked her way around every gnat who dared flaunt a lower intelligence over her.

Billy knew she and Steve got along, but not how much they had in common. Originating from one of the farming districts was one thing, but specifically the dairy and vineyard region proved a fascinating piece of information.

As well as a gorgeous journey. It took a day and two nights, but forests soon exhaled into rolling hills for lines of grape trees, pastures for cattle, sheep, and goats. Billy knew he was getting closer to the center of it all because grapevines began to line the road, with signs every couple of miles encouraging travelers to eat their fill, along with a number informing how far they were to more accommodating civilization.

The smell of shit and manure dampened the experience, but Billy could not claim ignorance over how his own city smelt during the summer. Even under royal decree that half the fleabags leave the capital in order to minimize summer fever and pestilence, the place still reeked.

The road began to veer down into a lush valley of hills; below was the bustling city of this region, and above stood a number of large homes. One ought to have appeared bigger than the rest, but such shared opulence suggested a wealthy middle class instead of one lord standing above them all. Economically, this was healthier. Socially, Billy felt utterly foreign to this hierarchal shape. His court was an uneven, pyramid hourglass. With himself standing on its point, a bloated pool of lords and deceit, then a strangled middle class before an even bigger pool of lower class just trying to feed themselves. It is a shape which cannot hold itself up, and yet he tirelessly managed it.

It’s not my fault, he defended to nobody. It’s what I inherited.

He pat his horse’s neck, feeling the silken grey fur that drew passersby’s glances. He had a beautiful mount: a grey so vibrant she looked blue under storm clouds. His saddle and bridle were humble; couldn’t very well walk around with his embossed leather saddle or a bridle glittering with the king’s golden medallions on every buckle.

When a woman gazed a little too long at him instead of his horse, Billy eased to a stop and smiled charmingly. “Excuse me, where might I find the House of Buckley?”

She adjusted the basket in her arms to hold it on her hip while she swayed coyly. “Peach-colored house on the hill, sir. May I ask what business you have there?”

“Visiting a friend.” Unless she’s in disguise too.

“Best to wait until evening time. Everyone’s in the market or out in the fields right now.”

Billy tilted his head at her. “Buckley is a noble house.” Nobody is working in the fields from that family—

Then she laughed. Laughed. “Are you from the capital?”

Billy’s charm faltered on his face, but he picked it back up easily enough. “Thereabouts. Why?”

“Because people from the capital believe everyone’s rich. Rich enough to sit or poor enough to not own a chair. We all work here, and we’re all in the market or the fields. I can tell you which are Sir Buckley’s, though.”

The little twit liked being a know-it-all, but it served Billy a great deal to be given the tour. Here, property decided who reigned, and property came in the form of land, livestock, or both. With that came a handful of useful names: Buckley, Hagan, Harrington, Wheel—

Billy’s eyes widened like a cat’s pupils dilating on prey. “STEVE!”

Because…there he was. His Steve, strolling right up the cobbled road from the hills and into the market with a donkey loaded with grape baskets beside him. He hadn’t heard his name, giving Billy the time to absorb every new detail about the man who vanished from his castle.

The white, puffy shirt held close to his body with a waistcoat. High-waisted trousers made his legs look long and lean over workman’s boots. He shoved up the colorful fabric ties around his biceps, holding up the shirtsleeves but failing due to all of the sweat from a day in the sun. A belt sagged a little diagonally around his hips, on which such things as pliers, shears, a garden knife, and a pair of leather and canvas gloves waited for use.

Steve took off a large sunhat and set it on the donkey’s head, combing both of his hands through his voluminous, brown hair—

“Steve!”

Billy began to walk his horse in that direction, having long since dismounted for the courtesy of his guide, but now the latter gripped his arm in warning. “That’s Lord Harrington to you.”

Billy blew a raspberry right into the air, scoffing, “Excuse me?”

The woman rolled her eyes so hard, she would have been thrown into a stockade for behaving like that to—well, to a king. But she let go of him and went on her way, leaving him to his fate.

So off he went. Billy walked his mount over to where a collection of people were attending to the donkey and the grapes, and Steve nodded in discussion with an older man.

“Lord Harrington, I hear?” he crooned in greeting.

Two heads rotated toward him, and Billy felt rather smacked in the face by the matching eyes and nose. Father. This is Steve’s father.

Lord Harrington. Twice over.

Steve’s features opened with shocked eyes and a dropped jaw. His eyes darted to his father’s frown, and Billy quickly backpedaled, “I apologize. I know the younger, but not the older. My name’s Billy Hargrove.”

He’d bowed his fair share as a knight, though the gesture felt far removed since he was out of practice. Never the less, Steve gaped at his king bowing slightly at the hips and extending a hand for Lord Harrington to shake.

Thing about being king, not many people actually know the monarchy’s family name. They knew William the Second. William of the Grove. Some whispered the Second Tyrant, but only because Billy was still young and new to being king. They were waiting for him to prove them right.

Lord Harrington shook his head with a glance at his son. “You didn’t say anyone was coming with you.”

“I didn’t think anyone was,” Steve answered bluntly, but he picked up the gist of Billy’s disguise easily enough. “Billy’s been a big help to me in the capital.”

“How so?”

Billy’s brows lifted, but before he could provide a veiled innuendo, Steve chirped, “Roommates. Got me a job. Kept me fed.”

“I did my best,” Billy crooned. He watched Steve’s apple bob in his throat.

Lord Harrington, with his similar, albeit shorter and silver, hair and weathered skin opened his arm to gesture Billy up the road. “You’ll be our guest, then. I’ll show you along. Are you staying at the inn?”

“No, my lord. I’ve only just arrived.”

“Very good. This way. Steve, remind Roger about the textiles. We’ve sheared the animals twice already this season. He needs to either wash it or sell it. We can’t hold onto it or else it will mold and be useless to barter.”

Billy peeked at Steve, who similarly veered to go on his separate way. He met Billy’s gaze for the briefest second, and he looked…not entirely happy to see Billy.

The king did not like that at all.

* * *

Billy looked around the Harrington estate, taking in every detail that Lord Harrington granted him. He had yet to see an inkling of whatever this emergency could have been to rush Steve out of the capital. Out of Billy’s bed. It made sense, now, why he had left everything behind, since he had a home and full wardrobe waiting for him here. Billy had not seen a glimpse of Lady Buckley, though.

People are supposed to ask my permission to leave, damn it. Or at the very least, inform him first. Not skip town like bandits.

The Harrington house looked out over the estate’s vast hills of grapes, goats, and sheep. It would have been endearing, the farmers using their canes to nudge the goats along the alleys of vines so they could snack on fallen grapes. Endearing, if Steve had been the one to show him all this. Billy wanted Steve next to him on this veranda—if it could be called that. The house and its balconies overlooking the city and hills were much smaller than his castle’s, of course.

Billy did not stay long in his rooms—room. Just a room. You certainly acclimated to luxury, he reminded himself. One of his first orders in the castle had been a complete renovation to his chambers. He would not live in his father’s rooms. Those were turned into a storage branch of the castle, and Billy had several walls knocked down to make way for the new royal apartments. Let the old bastard haunt the broom cupboards.

Billy trotted down the narrow stairs into what felt like an abrupt arrival at the dining room. Further down in the house would be the kitchen but there was a smaller, stewards’ pantry, of sorts, in which a woman stood and rotated upon hearing him. It took a second, but Billy remembered to bow.

“Am I correct in addressing the lady of the house?”

“You are,” smiled Lady Harrington. It came as no surprise that she looked at least ten years younger than her husband, but the blonde hair did catch Billy off guard. She offered her hand, which he took and kissed its back.

“For some reason, I didn’t think Steve took after his father so much.”

“In looks only. He has all his personality from me.”

Billy rocked a little on his heels, humming an acknowledging sound. He certainly did not voice his amusement that she might’ve just revealed more about her marital bed than she meant to. He simply replied, “I believe it. May I ask: Steve and Lady Buckley rushed out with hardly any explanation. Is everything all right?”

“Oh, everything’s no more out of the ordinary than it usually is,” she began, returning to her task of preparing what looked like a fruit-soaked wine for their dinner. She sliced up apples and peaches with a curved blade and a practiced hand. “However, our ordinary can be quite sudden and busy.”

A different hum came from Billy’s chest at that. “I understand. Is there anything I can do?”

“Well, if you’re offering, you can half those grapes right there.”

Billy sent the wooden bowl of fruit a dubious glance and then laughed breathily, “I meant—”

“I know what you meant,” she smiled. “For now, you can help me prepare the wine.”

A long dead growl moved through Billy’s mind. Woman’s work—

Stay dead, tyrant, Billy hushed with finality. He accepted the spare knife from her and did the task he was given. She couldn’t know that he was who he was, after all. No one in this town apart from Steve knew that Billy could supply the money, machinery, and manpower at a moment’s notice for whatever reason they might need—

Chatter and laughter moved like a reverse echo outside the house, blooming quickly until, of all people, Robin Buckley herself clapped on the stoop of the Harrington’s side door. Open as it is for the breeze to come and go, she waltzed right in, and stopped at the sight of Billy. Her laughter cut off only to be replaced with, “You!”

“Me,” he threw right back. He raised a brow at a woman of the royal court wearing trousers and boots.

Lady Harrington chimed, “Oh, so you are friends.”

Billy peered back at her. “Was there any doubt?”

“Oh, dear, you look like you’ve never worked a field in your life.”

Billy had never heard his jaw hit the floor until that moment. Robin’s chuckle arrived beside him as she ripped off a handful of grapes for a snack. “When did you get here?”

“Not an hour ago.”

“You could’ve stayed put.”

“You’re enjoying this,” he growled, hoping that she heard his meaning through the words. I’m still your king even if no one here knows it.

She smirked, hearing loud and clear. “Steve gave me the heads up.”

He matched her smile, tone dripping with charming venom. “And where is he?”

She shook her head at him, cooing a tone that was both soothing and condescending. “He’ll be around. You’re in…his house, after all. Thanks, Anne.”

“You’re welcome, dear,” came Lady Harrington’s reply, but Billy hardly heard it.

He was in Steve’s house. A lord’s house. Lord Harrington’s house…and Billy was just some nobody.

Robin really was enjoying this too much.

[tanakavox]

A look into the multiverse chapter 8 SAOA

Many thanks to my friend friend @bssaz97 for his work on the reactions. And TheGoldenBoy2188 for the strict for SAOA making writing easy. The next reaction will be a suprise so stay tune.

Amidst the streets of Mantle, Whitley Schnee walked towards a destination while wearing a disguise consisting of a coat, scarf, shaded glasses, and a flat cap. He had a mission and he would not waste this opportunity!

It was not every day that he could simply leave the manor without Father's permission or notice so he needed to be quick but not noticeable. He had waited months for this day to arrive. Whitley had pre-ordered the latest MMO game of his favorite game series a week before the initial release date and had come to pick it up. Having connections in the right places certainly did have its benefits. The only downside was he had to acquire his prize somewhere outside of his father's notice. So what other place to go than Atlas's sister kingdom.

Outside of his notice, a young white haired faunus woman with sheep ears followed close behind him. Fiona Thyme was out picking up some food for the rest of the Happy Huntresses when she noticed an unfamiliar person walking around. She knew almost everyone on this side of Mantle, so a new person popping out of the blue was very suspicious. Normally she would have reported this back to Robyn but upon further inspection she recognized who this person was.

It was the sole son of the worst man on Remnant and the newly appointed heir of the Schnee Dust Company, Whitley Schnee! Why was he here in Mantle?! Fiona determined he was up to no good and decided to follow him. Wherever the SDC goes, trouble usually follows!

Whitley finally arrived at the destination he was seeking… the Post Office! Now all he had to do was open the door, enter the establishment aaaaaand- stare dumbfounded as the inside of this place was a theatre.

"What the-? This isn't the post office. Where am I?!" Whitley shouted at no one in particular.

"Ah-ha! Caught you right where I- Huh? Where the hell? This isn't the post office!" Fiona also dumbfounded.

"Whitley?" Both Weiss and Winter stated in a mix of shock and disbelief at seeing their little brother. Maybe some hostility on Weiss part.

"Weiss? Winter? How-?"

"What the hell is this?!" A loud female voice shouted as four more people arrived out of nowhere. Consisting of two normal sized humans, a bunny faunus and a very large man.

"Coco/Velvet/Fox/Yatsuhashi!" Teams RWBY and JNR said collectively.

"Oh hello everyone! This… is a surprise! When did you get to Vacuo?" Velvet asked the group.

Fiona turned towards the new strangers, "Vacuo? What are you talking about? You're all in Mantle?"

"I'm most certain we're in Vacuo at the time." Yatsu spoke.

"You are in neither at the moment." Ozpin spoke up.

"What the- Teach? Weren't you supposed to be dead?!" Coco confusingly points out.

"I believe an explanation is in order."

*One short but informative explanation later*

"Wait so we were brought here to watch… alternate realities?" Fiona says after she and all the new arrivals had been told everything about the theater.

"We call them viewings but yeah pretty much." Ruby said.

"Hold on, I can understand why all of you were brought here, seeing as you all are huntsmen and huntresses. But that doesn't explain why I'm here." Whitley, having taken off his disguise.

"A great question indeed." Weiss mutters.

"I think I have a theory." Blake stepped forward. "So far now, I've noticed that the people who are here have at least some involvement in the viewings that we have been seeing. Remember that one viewing we saw of Whitley being stuck inside a video game?"

"I was stuck in a video game?"

"Also if you die in the game you die for real." Nora added.

Whitley's eyes widened at the implications.

"Well you're still stuck as far as we know. But apparently you're very good at the game so you might be fine." Jaune clarifies. Slightly feeling guilty that his alternate is the one who traps him there.

"Oh joy, now I'm trapped inside a place against my will in two realities!" Whitley throws his hands in frustration.

"Oh boo hoo! Is the rich boy gonna cry because nothings going his way today?" Fiona says in a mocking tone.

"Oh I'm sure you would know so much about crying and complaining about trivial things, thief." He shot back at Fiona.

"At least I think about the people of Mantle! When was the last time you thought of someone outside of yourself, Schnee!" Fiona retorted.

Winter sensing that this conversation was going nowhere stepped in between her brother and the happy huntress.

"Enough! None of us came here by choice so let's just stop this pointless arguing and move on."

Fiona huffed, "I couldn't agree more." She stomped away from the two siblings and found herself a seat in the theater.

Winter sighed, "It may not be ideal but as long as you are here Whitley, I would just suggest sitting tight and wait until you or all of us are able to leave this place."

"Hmph, very well. Thank you sister, it almost sounds like you care." Whitley took his leave and found a seat that was about four seats away from Weiss's team.

"Isn't there anywhere else you want to sit," Weiss practically hisses.

"Oh but Weiss it's the only seat that's close enough to you." Whitley affirmed.

Weiss groans in frustration, 'Hopefully it's only for one viewing…'

An acoustic guitar plays in the background as a montage of the events of and post-Episode 1 appears on the screen and a narrator began to talk.

" A month had passed since that fateful day. When everyone's world got all twisted, leaving them stranded in a castle in the sky. Since then, 2000 poor souls came to an abrupt and tragic end. Some by bad luck, others by sheer stupidity. I mean, really. Why would you just stand in fire? Anyways, that didn't bother The Kid none. He only cared about one thing, and one thing alone. Himself. 'Cuz in a game of life or death, you either live... or you die."

The scene transitions to Shirou leaning against a wall with an annoyed look on his face.

"What?! Two thousand of the players have died already!" Ruby yelled, tears starting to form in her eyes.

"Not surprising, seeing as many of them looked weak last viewing." Cinder coolly replies.

Many huntsmen and huntresses glared at the red clad woman. She paid them no mind.

"Well thank you very much Narrator, you're doing a wonderful job of explaining the total death count of this video game prison." Whitley commented dryly.

"Oh, WOW. What brilliant insight! It's so deep it loops right back around to being stupid." Shirou snarked.

"The Kid ranted at no one, it slowly dawning just how alone he truly was" Narrator continued..

Whitley's eyes narrowed, "Am I being sassed by the narrator?"

"Maybe you said something to piss them off." Fiona added.

"Wait, what was that?" Shirou asks, shocked.

"He asked the sky, like a preacher to his silent gods."

"What gods? What are you talking about?! It's all bullshit metaphors with you!"

"He cried, not knowing the difference between a simile and a metaphor. The tininess of his brain dwarfed only by the tininess of his di-"

Whitley's eyes narrowed and face twitched at how much of an annoyance this narrator was being.

Weiss was doing her best to conceal her smile but was failing and breathes out a laugh. She was enjoying the exchange that her brother was going through and found it amusing. Her team gave her a side glance while Fiona and a few others laughed at the roast session the young Schnee was being given.

"Narrator off." Shirou commands the system with an annoyed tone.

"YOUCANSILENCEMEBUTYOUCAN'TSILENCETHETRU-" The narrator got cut off.

"Dick."

"Thank gods that's over, that narrator was extremely rude." Whitley sighed thankfully now that the narrator was silenced.

Weiss and Fiona grumbled that their fun was ruined.

Fade into December 2, 2022, on a strategy meeting led by man called Diabel. He gave a big smiled out to the crow

"Hey everyone. Thank you all for coming to our little powwow. Now, I know many of you may be discouraged by the fact that 2000 people have died so far."

" WHAT?!" A player screamed

" 2000 PEOPLE ARE DEAD?!" Another screamed.

"IT HASN'T EVEN BEEN A MONTH YET!"

"OH MY GOD, WE REALLY ARE FUCKED!"

"Pretty much, sucks to be you!" Mercury laughed.

"These are the people that have to survive this game. Honestly what was blondie expecting," Emerald facepalms.

"Hey! Just because they've lost numbers doesn't mean that they have to lose hope!" Ruby glared at the two assassins.

"And I know even more of you are a little down because we haven't even cleared the First Floor yet." Diabel added, trying to keep the smile on his face.

"WE HAVEN'T?!"

"I THOUGHT WE WERE ALMOST DONE...!"

"You were saying." Cinder looked back at Ruby.

"Well…" Ruby trailed off, thinking of a way to defend these players.

Diabel's smile wavered

"Uh, you guys do know there are 100 Floors, right?"

"WHAT?!" A crowd of players yelled.

Diabels sighed a bit.

Ruby, despite her best attempts, also sighed and sat back down.

"Oh jeez, I am just making things worse. Point is, we found the Boss Room!"

The crowd gasps.

"Now, we've formulated a few strategies with some help from the beta testers-"

"BETA TESTERS?!" A voice yells out.

"Oh goddammit!" Diabel groaned argnily

A player named Kibaou jumps in.

Kibaou, what do you want? Diabel looked tired addressing this player.

"Beta testers? They're the reason we're stuck in this game!" Kibaoyu sneered

Many that heard this player's statement and quickly frowned at his blatant accusations towards these 'beta-testers.'

"This guy can't be serious, right?" Coco stated.

Dianel looked at Kibaou flatterausted at the stupidity of the statement he heard

"What?! Do you have any evidence to back that up?"

Kiabrou scoffed at the question. "Pfft! Evidence. I don't need no evidence. Isn't that right, Jesus?" He points to a player named "Jesus"

" It's pronounced "Hey-Zeus", and I don't know you."

"Wow, really selling your reasoning by having no one else to support your claim." Jaune stated while crossing his arms.

"Well, they still should have helped us newbies!" He exclaimed

"If I might interject...:" A deep voice called out.

A big muscular man gets up and comes to the stage.

Velvet taps Yatsu's arm excitedly, "Hey you're in this game too Yatsu! …oh gods you're in this game too."

"So it seems," Yatsu, doing his best to keep a straight face.

Coco lowered her shades along with a confused look. As far as she knew, Velvet was the only one who played video games on their team. Unless...

"And who the hell are you?!"

"I am known by many names.", "Closed eyed demon. The memory easer., "Hooked clawed tiger". But you? You may call me... "Velvet".

"Velvet huh? That's a... pretty masculine name." Kibaoru said adwarkley

"Shouldn't be. It's a woman's name." Velvet replied casually.

"Damn it. I had a feeling but I didn't want to be right." Coco cursed quietly while shaking her head.

"Wait, why would Yatsu have a character named after me? That doesn't- ...Oh ...oh my gods." Velvet's eyes widened at the implications, tears starting to build. That is until she felt a nudge on one of her shoulders. She turned her head and there was Yatsuhashi looking at Velvet with a gaze that said, 'It's not your fault.'

"Kay, I don't know how to talk to you."

"Good. Then you can shut up and listen. Does everyone here have this book in their inventory?"

" Yeah.

" Yes."

"Yup."

"Yeah."

" No... Wait, can I change my answer?"

Velvet/Yatsushi held up a book to show to everyone.

" This book is full of tips and strategies on how to survive this game, put together by the beta testers. Everyone read it, yet some people still died. The beta testers did everything they could."

"Yeah, that means Mace Hair has no reason to blame the beta testers!" Ruby points out.

Many of her friends nodded and Yastu's team smiled at the sound defense his alternate presented.

" Actually, I didn't read it." One player chimed up.

"Yeah, I didn't read it either."

"I skimmed it."

"OH COME ON!" Many members of the audience shouted in agitation.

"What? Didn't ANY of you read it?! It is literally a matter of life and death." Velvet exclaimed

"Well, dude. It's like 80 pages." A player pointed

"2000 people are dead!"

"THEY ARE?!"

"Again. These are the people that have to survive this game." Emerald reiterates.

Brief pause. Shirou looks shocked at their stupidity.

"I am so done with you people." Velvet mutters, walking off the stage.

" What do you mean "you people"?" A player asked a bit offended.

The Faunus in the room narrowed at their eyes at the implications made by that player.

"What do you mean, "you people"?" Fiona asks no one in particular.

Velvet and Kibaou take their seats.

Diabel continued with the meeting. "So, as Mister Hooked clawed tiger was saying, this book has some great strategies, including how to beat the First Boss, Illfang."

He clears his throat and starts reading from the guide.

"So as you enter the Boss Room, he's gonna throw wave after wave of disposable minions at you... and you must answer in kind."...?

"Uh, what?" A player asks, mirroring Diabel confusion.

Many in the audience reacted just as confused. All except Whitley, who had a good feeling where this was going.

Diabel continues

"Send the weaker players first. Good rule of thumb: If a player asks you for gold 2 seconds after meeting you, front lines."

"Ha, serves 'em right!" Kiaboru said with a laugh

"If they hijack conversations to rant about their political views, front lines."Diabel said with a smirk looking at Kiaboru.

Kibaou went pale. "Aw, shit."

"Ha! Serves you right!" Nora laughed.

"If they ask female players for pics of their boobs, front lines."

"OH BULLSHIT!" One player screamed out in rage.

"THAT'S DISCRIMINATION!" Another one howled.

"BOO!"

Many of the women in the theater frown at the way those players reacted. Winter was more than certain that those players were the type that participated in the mentioned acts the speaker spoke on.

Diabel smiles and waves them down. "Now, now, people. I think there are some valid points being made here. Now, it goes on to say when Illfang's health goes into the red, he's going to switch from his axe and buckler to something called a "Talwar". At that point we should initiate a strategy called "The Final Solution" and- I'm just gonna stop reading! Jesus, who wrote this thing?"

Shirou giggles evilly.

"Of course Whitley wrote that book." Weiss sighed.

"Why sister, it sounds like that didn't surprise you in the least." Whitley pretending to act hurt.

"Please. The manipulative tone of the text almost makes one sound too much like you." Weiss bit back.

"Well I suppose you would know." A wide smile on Whitley's face.

Weiss scoffs turning her head away from her traitorous brother.

Team R_BY and Winter watched the exchange and sighed.

"Okay, so the guide's a bust. But it'll be fine. I'll come up with a great plan for us." Diabel smiles at the crowed.

"Like what?"

" Well... we... could... Uh... Uhhhh... I'm open to suggestions."

"Woah, guys, we could- we could, you know, like, group up and-"

"And hit it 'til it DIES!" Another yelled finishing the other player sentence

"Woo, nice!"

"Yeah!"

" High five!"

The two hive five.

"Well. It's something, right?." Velvet does her best to be optimistic.

Many of the more experienced members of the theater shake their heads.

"That's... a good start. But let's hear some other suggestions."

"I'd like to hear more about this "Final Solution"." A player in a german accent piped up.

"Fuck it, group up." said Diabel said tirely.

Shirou slides down the seats towards a girl, named Fiona, who's on her own.

Fiona blinks in surprise, "Oh my gods, that's me! I'm in the game! Hey other me, stay away from the Schnee!"

"You have my condolences." Weiss says to the sheep faunus.

"So, why aren't, uh, you joining anyone's group?" Shirou asked.

"I have my reasons." She said mysterioly

" Is it because you're a girl?"

"No. It's because... I don't know how to play."

"Because you're a girl?"

Many of the females and males who enjoy video games, such as Yang, Ruby, Velvet, Nora,, Jaune, Oscar, Ren, surprisingly Mercury and Emerald, along with Fiona herself, threw questioning glares towards the current heir of the SDC. Weiss and Winter glared at him as well but for other reasons.

Whitley looks around to see all the glares directed towards him. "Why are you all looking at me? I said nothing."

"No!" Fiona snapped. "It's just... I don't know how to open the menu."

"What?" Both Fiona and Whitley asked.

"Jinx!" Nora shouts.

"What?!" Shriou looked at the girl in shock. "But you can't do anything in this game without the menu. How have you survived all month?"

Cut to Fiona holding a piece of bread. She is staring at it intensely. "HOW DO I EAT YOU?!" She screamed at it.

Many laughs were had at the poor girl's predicament, despite some of them doing their best to not do so but could not help themselves.

Fiona slowly sank into her chair, covering her face in shame. Her alternate was the utter definition of a newb player.

Back to the present.

"It's... been a challenge…" She muttered before looking at Shirou. "What about you? Why haven't you join the others?"

"Oh, lots of reasons. Mostly because they're a bunch of mouth-breathing neckbeards who think "LMAO" is how French people laugh."

" Ha ha, that's so Le Mao!" Said one player far away causing to Shirou shudder.

Whitley in the theater also shudders in disgust. If these were the people that he would have been surrounded by inside the game, then he too would have avoided them like a plague.

"Wow. You certainly... speak from the heart."

"Funny, I thought I was speaking from my mouth. But, eh, shows what I know about biology." He said with a smirk.

"No one else wanted you in their group, did they?"

"Shut up! It was mutual!"

"And who would blame me? Have you seen the players of this game? I'm honestly surprised they lived this long."

"You're just saying that 'cause no one wanted a smartass on their team." Fiona smirked.

"I'm sorry, were you speaking Menu Girl?" Whitley nonchalantly retorts.

Fiona's face grew red in embarrassment and agitation. She wanted nothing more than to raise her hand and activate her semblance right now. 'Give me a reason Schnee, I dare you.'

It cuts back to Diabel smiling and clapping his hands.

"Alright, looks like everyone's grouped up. Get plenty of rest tonight, people! We leave at noon!"

A player groans "Noon?"

"That's so early!"

Diabel sighs. "Alright. What about 1 o'clock?"

" Dude, come on!"

" God, fine! We leave at the crack of... 2:30, I guess. Lazy butts…"

"Christ, I'm gonna have to set my alarm."

Everyone in the theater did not have high expectations for these players as they would face their first challenge.

Cuts to December 3, 2022 Floor 1: Illfang's Tower, 7:30pm. Everyone's at the Boss Door and everyone except Diabel is exhausted.

"Okay, so there were a few more stairs than we realized. Apparently real life athletic ability translates into the game. Good to know." Diabel looked out to the sad sight in front of him.

"Oh, god. I can feel my lungs trying to kill me." One player whined.

" Is this sweat?!"

" I peed a little."

" Jesus, this is sad." Diabel said with a grimace.

One player vomits.

"Congrats Jaune, someone else has now become the new Vomit Boy of this viewing!" Yang exclaimed.

Jaune rolled his eyes at her attempt at making him feel better.

"Fuck it. Why don't you all just take a Cheetos and Mountain Dew break, and we'll reconvene in an hour."

1960 Batman-Esque transition with Cheetos and Mountain Dew.

" Dammit, guys! I was kidding! You weren't supposed to actually take an hour!" Dibal said in a rage."God, we've lost so much time. Let's just do this already! You all know the plan!"

Illfang jumps into the center of the room and roars. Kobolds pop in, and an error message pops up on the third one that says "Error: "Sentinel_ " not found."

Ruby and Nora laughed at the mob that got glitched.

"Alright, men!" Diabel began,"Form up and-"

"EVERY MAN FOR HIMSELF!" A player screams

The armies converge on each other.

"Are they serious! You can't just go gung-ho in a boss battle!" Jaune exclaimed at the increasingly apparent, dim-witted players.

"What?! No! Goddammit guys!" Diabel begins to bark out orders. "Squad B, quit attacking the Boss and keep the Sentinels off us! C, D, stop attacking from the front! Do you even know what "flank" means?! Squad F, for fuck's sake! Stop playing Bejeweled! *Groans* Squad G, get in there and help A and B!"

"Got it!" Shirou said with a nod rushing in.

"Don't talk back to…" Diabel did a double take."l Holy shit, really?!"

"How is Whitley the most sensible minded player in this game?!" Weiss asked.

"Weiss, have you seen the other players?" Blake asked her in a deadpanned tone.

"...Yes you're right, that's actually too much of an insult." Weiss admits.

Shirou attacks a Sentinel, leaving Fiona to finish it off.

"Okay, Fiona! What you're gonna wanna do here is-"

Fiona lets out a Battle Cry and kills the Sentinel in one hit.

Fiona in the theater perked up at this display, "Oh my- I can fight! Oh thank gods I can fight!"

Shirou eyes widened in shock "Wow, I thought she was hopeless, but her technique is flawless. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she's even better than I-"

"Hey Shirou! I killed the thing and now it says I have XPs! Is that bad? Am I dying?! Fiona cried out to him in fear."

Shirou rolls his eyes"Or... maybe... not."

"Miss Fiona, either your alternate is very lucky or is very out of base with technology. I can't tell which it is." Whitley stated.

"Shut up Schnee, she's trying!" Fiona defends her other self.

Illfang's health drops into the red. He snarls at the players and he tosses his weapons.

"Alright, men! This last part's gonna take careful coordination…" Diabel ran towards Illfang. "which is why I'm just gonna do it myself!"

Diabel charges his weapon art. Illfang draws his Ōdachi.

Ruby's eyes widened, "OH NO!"

Shirou looked and saw the weapon and his eyes widened calling to Diabel. "Oh shit! Diabel, look out! That's not a Talwar! It's an Ōdachi!"

"What's the difference?!" Diabel ask still running towards Illfang.

"Well, a Talwar is of Indian descent while an Ōdachi is Japanese! While both are primarily slashing weapons, the Talwar was favored by cavalrymen, as opposed to an Ōdachi which was mainly used for dick measuring!" As Shirou is talking, Illfang starts jumping off the walls.

" What's your point?!" Diabel asked impaintely.

"Well if you let me finish, I was getting to that! You see…"

Diabel gets hit by Illfang, screaming in pain.

Many of the huntsmen and huntresses in the theater either gasped in fear or looked away at the surely doomed player.

"What's happening? Did I miss something?" Fox called out.

"Oops." Shirou sheepishly said.

Illfang hits Diabel again, sending him flying.

"DIABEL!" Kibaou yelled out.

Illfang pops down in front of Kibaou and roars. A message pops up "Bonus Item: Soiled Pants". Above Kibaou

"Hey, rare drop!' A player said cheerfully.

Mercury laughed at the joke while most of the others were disgusted by the fact that that achievement was unlockable.

Shirou runs over to Diabel and holds him up.

" I was trying to say an Ōdachi's a little bit longer than a Talwar, so it'll have more reach and do a bit more damage."

"And why couldn't you say that first?" Diabel asked weakly

"Yeah you dummy! You almost might've killed him!" Ruby cries out.

Whitley was actually taken aback by that statement. Sure he had moments of pride and arrogance, sometimes he looked down on people but he didn't believe he would ever intentionally kill someone.

" I like to think of myself as a teacher. Anyway, drink this."

Shirou tries to give Diabel a healing potion but he stopped Shirou shaking his head.

"No. It's better this way. I just can't do it anymore. I had such high hopes at first. But now? Our best player is a girl who thinks DPS is some kind of sex thing." Both turned to glance to Fiona.

"I know. It's weird, right?"

Fiona sulked more into her chair.

"You're clearly not like the rest of them. How do you stand it, Shirou? Where do you draw your strength?" Diabel look at Shirou like a sage.

Shirou sigh and drops his wisdom onto him. "I've been playing MMO's a long time, Diabel, and if there's one thing I've learned, it's that lions do not concern himself with the opinions of sheep. Just take that little voice in your head that tells you to be tactful and understanding... and shoot it. Shoot it in the goddamn face."

" You are so wise. If only I'd met you sooner. Perhaps, things would have been different. You must lead them now. Show them this game can be beaten." Diabel let's go of Shirou wrist.

Weiss was taken aback that this man was actually willing to place trust in this alternate of her brother. This stranger who barely even knows him placed the lives of all the players into his hands. Much like how she tried to trust Whitley once… this caused a bitter frown to grow on her face in recollection. Even if this was a different version of him, it was still Whitley in her eyes.

Shirou smiles fondly at Diabel. "Another life... in another time... I think we could have been friends."

"I... doubt it." Diabel gasps out before turning to shattered glass, dying.

" Well fuck you, too!" Shirou said angrily his smile dropping into a frown.

Fiona slips in by Shirou's side and began to lay out a plan.

"Alright, Shirou. Here's what we'll do. One counters his blows to knock him off balance and the other switches in to attack. Rinse. Repeat. Victory."

Shirou looked at her with one eye. "You came up with that, but you can't open a menu."

"Shut up!" Fiona cried out.

Illfang roars and they take off running toward him.

"Alright, so you counter and I'll attack!" Shirou yelled to Fiona.

"What? No, it's my plan! I should attack!" Fiona yelled back.

"Fine, just get ready!"

Shirou makes a battle cry and counters Illfang's attack.

"SWITCH!"

Fiona moves in and gets her cloak destroyed by Illfang before attacking revealing white curly hair and sheep ears.

" See? You almost got yourself killed! I'll attack him!" Shirou yelled again and began to attack Illfang.

"Oh, that was a fluke, and you know it! He's mine!" Fiona yelled back.

Fiona attacks Illfang.

"Oh shit. They're actually giving that boss the work!" Coco called out.

"He's mine!" Shirou yelled.

Shirou blocks Illfang's next attack, but Fiona attacks him before Shirou can do so himself.:

"Mine!" Fiona screams

"NO! HE'S! MIIIIIIIIIIINE!"

Shirou slices Illfang and he explodes. Everyone is stunned. Lame party kazoo sound effect and a banner with the word "CONGRATULATION" appears.

"Yeah!" A player cheer.

This caused almost everyone in the audience to laugh. Despite the dark humor of it all, it was still pretty hilarious.

"What happened? Did they win?" Fox asks

"Oh yes, I'm sorry Fox! They beat the boss and a victory banner came out."

"...heh." Fox chuckled.

Shirou is panting. He gets an item as a reward for defeating the Boss.

"Congratulations!" Velvet said, patting him on the back. "That was even more impressive than that cat that learned to play."

Cut to a player with a cat's head, with another player staring at it.

"Meow."

"Huh what did you know?" Yang replied.

"Oh my god! You guys can see it too?! So I'm not crazy! Isn't that great, Jesus?!" We see things from the players' perceptive, with a giant hallucination of Jesus Christ looming over the crowd.

"That's right, Jeffrey. Now... kill them all." Jesus said, his voice growing darker.

"As you command, my Lord." Jeffrey whispered.

"Somethings very wrong with that guy." Qrow states.

"I honestly agree with you, Branwen… Blegh! That left a horrible taste in my mouth." Winter stated.

Cut back to Velvet talking to Shirou. The other players are applauding his victory.

"You've led us to victory, Shirou. These men and I will follow you to hell itself. Now... address your people." Velvet is smiling and pushing Shirou to the crowd.

Shirou gets up and smirks. "I always knew this day would come. Ahem. Fellow gamers! We have traveled far and up many stairs to get to this point. Fighting side by side, noobs, and leets, alike. I'd like to take a moment to say that I couldn't have done it without the help of each and every one of you."

"Aw, that's a nice thing to say-" Velvet was cut off when Shirou counties.

"Of course, I'm not a liar, so I'm not gonna say any of that."

"Oh shit."

"I thought as much." Weiss states.

Shirou grins look at the group. "I mean, really. I could've done this whole Boss Fight myself. But to be fair, I guess you did absorb a bit of damage for me, which was nice. You were an adequate meat shield, and no one can ever take that away from you."

"Fuck. Fuck! Shut up! SHUT UP!" Velvet started to say.

"So for those of you who came in late, and that one guy playing Bejeweled back there... shoot for the stars... it'll make it more fun when I kick you back into the dirt."

"You're not better than us!" Kiaboru said.

"Yeah! What makes you think you're so cool?!" Nora shouts to the screen.

Shirou equips the coat he got for beating Illfang and smugly looks at the group."My sweet-ass coat begs to differ."

"Dammit, he's got us there." one player muttered.

Shirou ascends the stairs out of the Boss Room. Fiona follows him and grabs him by the shoulder. "Shirou, wait!"

Those in the audience looked on at Fiona's alternate in hope. Surely she could turn him around after their excellent display of partnership.

"I want half." She said, staring at him blankly.

That hope was quickly squashed, shot at, and finally burned to death via gasoline and cracking a fire dust crystal.

Shirou turns to her confused. " I'm... sorry. What?!"

"I want half the coat. I did half the work, I should get half the coat." Fiona explain and extends her hand for him give it to her.

"No! It's not fabric I can cut! It's just a bunch of 1s and 0s!" Shirou was getting frustrated.

"Fine, then give me the 1s."

" Fuck you! I want the 1s!" He groans and open the menu. "I am not having this argument. I'm disolving this party." Shirou opens his menu and "Di-solves" their party.

"Shirou! If you walk away with my half of the coat, I will make your life a living hell!" Fiona screamed.

"You know what? Fine! I'll give you the damn coat! Just send me a trade request."

"A... what?"

Fiona's eyes widened as she watched from the theater, "No…"

Shirou grins viciously "Oh, it's quite simple really... Just open your menu." Shirou starts laughing maniacally as he walks out the doors as Fiona screams at him:"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" At him.

Outro Plays.

Fiona screams, "I can't believe the nerve of that-! GRAAAAH!"

"Can you please stop screaming! You're going to cause everyone's ears to bleed." Whitley said while using a handkerchief to rub his ears.

Fiona huffed then matched off, going to another place in the theater.

"Well that was interesting. So you all say there's other viewings where we see other worlds besides this one." Coco asked the group.

"Oh yeah, we've seen a couple worlds ourselves, but only a handful I'd say." Yang admits.

"Well as long as we're here, we might as well take time to catch up." Velvet smiled.

"Yeah, this will be great! It's almost like we're back at Beacon, right Weiss? ...Weiss?" Ruby looks beside her but noticed that her partner was not with them anymore.

In another side of the theater, the all three Schnee siblings stand together. Both of the youngest siblings look at Winter who brought them here.

Winter clears her throat, "I understand that there are some… tension between the three of us during this viewing. So I asked you both here so that we may come to terms with our situation."

Weiss scoffs, "Come to terms with him! I highly doubt that."

Whitley crosses his arms, "Yes it does seem like a lost cause Winter."

"Enough! Both of you!" Winter raised her voice causing both of her younger siblings to go rigid. "I'm not expecting you to get along or even apologize to each other at the moment. What I ask is if you two can at least act civil with one another while in the theater?"

Both Weiss and Whitley looked at each other and sneered at each other.

"Why of course I can be civil with Whitley. It is a virtue of a lady to be civil at all times." Weiss said with hidden venom.

"Quite true, but being civil is also a quality an heir of the Schnee family must cultivate as well. So I look forward to spending this immeasurable amount of time with you my sisters." Whitley said with his best presentable smile.

"Yes, how I enjoy us taking this time to reacquaint with each other." Weiss said while one of her eyes was twitching.

"Well then sister, shall we?" Whitley gestured for Weiss to go ahead of him. Almost would have been believable if one did not notice the glint in his eyes and his strained smile.

Winter watched as both Weiss and Whitley walked back to the auditorium where everyone else had remained.

"...This can only end badly."

Hope you enjoyed.

[pollenat]

RED VELVET and A secret romance with their gang’s rival

➛ Note: Obviously, gang!au. These scenes are super random and not exactly as long as others, but I had this in my drafts for a while now, didn’t feel like completely discarding the work I’ve already done.

IRENE

Joohyun’s body moves on its own, her mind still asleep. Otherwise she wouldn’t have (or maybe she would) turned and reached for the other side of the bed. The lack of a body disturbs her awake.

She’s not home, though the bedroom is far from alien to her. The contents of shelves, the number of stains on the rug, the location of small holes in the walls - she already knows them by heart. Something she’s proud of, but shouldn’t share with others.

Lonely, perhaps scared of the word’s meaning, she calls for you. Usually, you’re fast to drop everything for her. Whatever it may be, nothing seems as important as Joohyun. This morning you’re not running like crazy to learn her demands. A repeat of your name makes no difference.

An electric shock of nervousness makes her get up after long hesitation. This is a safe haven, somewhere the outside world can’t reach, and yet her mind comes up with only the worst of possibilities. Nude feet stomp down the wooden panels. The floor feels cold against her heels, but Joohyun doesn’t show any sign of discomfort. She makes a stop by her jeans, lazily discarded the previous day. Fingers tighten around the object pulled out of a pocket. The black surface gleams under a ray of sunshine. Its owner has enough experience to always expect the unexpected.

Close to the wall, she slides down the corridor. Quiet and eagle-eyed, she’s ready to notice the abnormalities. Her ears pick up the sound of ragged breathing first. Then she notices a silhouette reflecting in the tiles of a corridor.

“Why are you holding a gun?” You ask her, genuinely confused.

Joohyun scoffs, partially relieved, partially annoyed. It’s 7 a.m. and you’re opening a jar of pickles instead of sleeping in. She drops the weapon on a countertop. The sound that comes from the meeting of hard surfaces makes you cringe.

“I thought something happened. Why are you up and not in bed?” The frown turns into a pout as Joohyun hugs one of your arms.

“I just felt like eating some pickles-” Without another word, she grabs the jar you are struggling to get opened, and easily does what you couldn’t. “Here, open. Now let’s go back to bed!”

“I love it when you unload frustration on objects.”

“Yes, yes. I’m aware.” She doesn’t hand you back the jar. “Pickles will come later. Now, we’re going back to bed. You’ve got a lot of making up to do.”

You may have abandoned the snacks, but something about Joohyun’s strong pulling and a sweet smile tells you there are better things to do.

SEULGI

The night sky is dotted with stars, as if they were its pride - jewels decorating collarbones. Something poets have always described as dark, being light. Although you want to share that thought aloud, you don’t. Not because of embarrassment. Seulgi would never laugh at something you’re serious about. Your choice is led by the dreamy atmosphere of your evening.

The two of you are lying on a blanket, somewhere in the middle of a forest. An hour long ride away from the city. A spot you feel like asking Seulgi about.

In your peripheral vision you can see her face turned towards you. There’s a smile you must’ve somehow caused.

“What?” She hums, hand sneaking under yours. “You’re staring.”

“Can’t I?” Fingers tighten around each other for a moment, before you push yourself up to lean over her.

Seulgi’s smile is still adoring, though now it’s sunken in shy undertones. She’s like that with you only. Otherwise, everyone knows her as the scary right hand woman. Her boss would’ve shot you in the face, had they known how close you were. It’s the sweet adrenaline of forbidden romance for you. Now, smiling, your fingers curl around loose locks of her dark hair.

“So, how many people have you taken on a date here?”

“Believe it or not, you’re the first one.” She brings her hands up to play with laces hanging from your hoodie.

“Then how did you find out about this place?”

“You know, drove by. Was followed, so I hid here and figured its a pretty lovely place.” One of the laces curls around her finger, just like a strand of her hair around yours.

“And you thought of me? Aww, you’re a real romantic.”

She laughs shyly, embarrassed by the conversation. You don’t intend on playing around though. A kiss is enough to silence her laughter. Seulgi hums in enjoyment, her face now covered by the shadow of your silhouette. As you press yourself closer to her, the back of her gun, always pinned to the belt, pokes the inside of your thigh. It’s a strong sensation. One that’s bound to burst a bubble. Yes, you’re used to it, but for some reason it’s not the same as holding the weapon in your two hands.

“What’s wrong?” Seulgi asks, feeling that something’s not right.

“Nothing, just got lost in thoughts for a moment here.” But instead of leaning forward once more, you return to lying on the back.

WENDY

You’re smiling widely in anticipation. The door opens suddenly, but it’s not able to startle you.

“Are you crazy?!” Her voice drips with pure anger, but her eyes scream relief.

Without any second thoughts, you push her inside and cage her little silhouette in a tight embrace. Seungwan does a poor attempt at escaping. She’s aware it’s of no use. She needs the comforting gesture as much as you do.

“You could’ve at least texted me first.”

“I did, but you’ve never answered me.”

When you finally let her go, she pulls out a phone and then gives you a look of pure disbelief. You might’ve written the message on your way to her apartment, but in your defence, Seungwan is the type of person that always has her phone close.

“What if someone was here? What if others saw you? Do you ever stop for a moment to think?” She scoffs at your ridiculing smile.

“Oh come on. What’s life without a little bit of excitement?”

“Umm, a good life?” Seungwan states as a matter of fact, which makes you wanna laugh in her face. But not to spite her. Rather to show her how sweet her whole being seems to you.

Yes, you’re the blunt one in whatever your relationship is. You’re the one to be touchy, clingy, also the one to piss her off with how “little” you care about being caught.

“Babe, you really need to chill. I’ve got it all covered. Of course, unless someone decides to pay you sudden visit, but even if, then that’s not on me!”

Her feet don’t follow you inside the living room. Instead, she’s watching you make yourself comfortable from the hallway. Expression of annoyance still present, it’s only a matter of time before Seungwan joins you.

“Stop being grumpy and come to me! I need a hug!”

She secures the lock first, but eventually does as predicted - joins your side on the couch. There’s still doubt on her face which you’re not at all worried about. These moments with Seungwan are the only way for you to experience normality. It tastes of the woman’s favorite toothpaste, feels like a fluffy rug, sounds like scoffs and occasional laughter.

“The things I do for you.” There’s still anger in her gaze, though much gentler than the one that welcomed you few minutes earlier.

JOY

It lasts a moment. In just a matter of few innocent seconds, she turns from a blonde in over-sized clothes to the Sooyoung you know, but maybe that shouldn’t be said. The passenger side in your ride quickly goes from free to occupied, and you don’t even hesitate before pressing accelerator. A taxi driver you’ve pretty much almost hit, honks. Your ear registers a string of curses thrown at a “senseless fuck”. Unimportant - the window closes.

“So, I suppose it went well?”

Sooyoung is redoing her lips in the mirror. Bright red is stark on the canvas of fair complexion. The corner visible from your point of view turns upwards.

“It did. Your boss is rampaging tonight.”

“Eh.” Indifferent, you wave the image of the closest future away. “When is he not.”

Soonyoung finishes her makeup with a loud pop of lips. She’s no longer the cold Mrs. invisible you saw earlier. Now, she’s the version you’re the most familiar with - the happy-go-lucky girl that happens to be doing shady business on the side.

“Where are we going?” She leans over the armrest to stare at you. Her chin rests on a hand, like a child does when watching movies. “Or wait, don’t tell me! I want it to be a surprise!”

“In a few minutes you’ll change your mind again.” Without missing a beat (this time), you change lanes.

“Yeah, probably. And you won’t tell me either way.”

“That’s just how well we know one another.” Your smiles meet.

Soonyoung returns to her previous position, but leaves her arm behind. An open palm catches your attention. Fingers wiggle in anticipation. Amused, but in no position to reject them, you give in. Soonyoung’s grip is a strong one, full of need and comfort.

The car zooms through the city sunken in the remnants of a sunset. Pedestrians walk by, unaware that someone who should be behind bars is passing them. Same with the drivers. The thought makes your heart flutter from excitement. An overpowering feeling of having the world at your mercy causes you to put more pressure on accelerator. Soonyoung’s thumb caresses the side of your hand. Her red lips are a stable point on the blurry and constantly changing background.

YERI

Funny how the two of you live for the adrenaline.

“Isn’t it a bit risky?” You ask, swiping the corner of her lips with your thumb.

Yerim’s eyes follow, as you put the crimson colored tip in your own mouth. It humors her, and drives crazy at the same time.

“You love risky.” Neither of you address the tension, nor are oblivious to it.

Music may be blasting above you, but right now, here, by the bar, it’s just you two, a pair of bodies pressing at each other’s side without doing much more. Truth be told, the crowd is so busy with itself, you don’t know why you’re too hesitant to follow their lead, and join them with Yerim.

Your eyes meet again. These rendezvous that the two of you have every now and then are a rare occasion. Therefore, you always make an effort to take everything about the notorious Kim Yerim in, starting from the depth of her gaze, ending at the height of her heels. She’s a masterpiece, and your worst (best) rival, but not tonight. Tonight, she’s your alluring date.

Her head moves a little bit closer, pink lips opening to speak.

“Are you sure you don’t want to dance?” Yerim’s brows rise in a manner that could seem innocent to anyone else. But you know what she means, and you want to tease her a bit before eventually giving in.

“Why? Am I boring you with my wine?” Acting indifferent to her hand on your thigh, you grab a glass and sip on it.

She smirks knowingly, but sighs anyway. It’s all just an act to keep you going. Something of a roleplay - faking that you’re not putty in each other’s hands. The truth is much different. Had Yerim’s tone been stricter, you would have been the one to lead her onto dancefloor.

“What’s wrong with it?” Before Yerim gets a chance to respond, she makes a face of surprise, and pulls out her phone.

You don’t have to ask to get a gist of the situation. It’s business. As always.

Yerim meets your gaze with evident sadness. But that’s your line of work, and you’re not the one to keep someone from doing what they have to do.

“Just go.” You smile bitterly. “Before I try to steal your job.”

The kiss she gives you is too short, and too weak for your liking.

“I’ll text you later.”

➛ pollenat’s list of headcanons

➛ pollenat’s list of shorts

➛ pollenat’s list of scenarios

[kafka-ish]

stuck between a rock and a hard place | s.u.

after one fateful night, stan uris finds himself stuck between a rock and a hard place when him and his friend like the same girl.

word count: 5,428

warnings/included: pining, love triangle, fem!reader 

request: (from anonymous) “could you write a bill denbrough, reader, and stanley uris love triangle? maybe where they’re always trying to one up each other for her attention? ty”

-

“I don’t get what you see in her.” Stan was eyeing y/n from across the cafeteria while Bill droned on for what must have been the fourth time that week about how amazing she was.

“Wuh-well, you wouldn’t under-st-hand.” Bill shook his head. He wasn’t about to try to convince his friend how amazing she made him feel. It was just how he felt.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t get it.” Stan squinted at the girl’s figure. Sure, she was pretty, but looks aren’t everything. “And I don’t get why you insist on sending her things anonymously.”

“If yo-you liked some-someone, wuh-wuh-wouldn’t you want t-to sh-show them?”

Stan’s gaze which was previously fixed on y/n switched to Bill. He gave him a glare because he didn’t understand. “If I liked someone, I would tell them,” he scoffed.

Bill could see where Stan was coming from. The only issue was that he was just too nervous to tell y/n, let alone talk to her. The two shared chemistry and a study hall period together but Bill still hadn’t found an excuse to talk to her. He also hadn’t found a way around his stutter. He wanted his moment with her to be perfect; no stutter, no embarrassment; just the two of them sharing a mutual conversation about whatever… and her finally realizing he’s the perfect match.

He shrugged at Stan’s remark. So, what if his friend didn’t understand? That only meant less competition.

“Hey guys!” Beverly drew both boys’ attention away from Bill’s crush. “There’s a party tonight. Whatd’ya say we all go together?”

“Count me the fuck in!” Richie was the first to reply, enthusiastically at that.

“I have a test tomorrow.” If Stan had a nickel for every time the Losers wanted to do something irrational, he’d be loaded.

“All the more reason to get drunk off your ass.” Richie Tozier had a grin on his face that there was no use wiping off.

And if Stan had a nickel for every time the Losers had convinced him into doing something stupid, he’d be stupid loaded.

The party was at who-knows-where’s house serving who-knows-what.

“Stanny! Stan the Man!” It was Richie Tozier, the convincer himself. He slurred Stan’s name and tripped his way over to the corner Stan was huddled in. “Yougottatrythis.” Richie’s words were incoherent and if he hadn’t been friends with Stan for so long, or were shoving a red solo cup full of something Stan didn’t want to know was in, Stan may have never guessed what his friend was trying to say.

“No thanks—”

“C’monnn.” Groan. “Don’t act like you’re above us, just cos yer sober.” Richie gave him a mopey look that Stan was sure was just another way to mock him.

‘Stan the Man’ did eventually take the cup. Not because he wanted to, but because of the way Richie was jerking it so much, he was afraid some of the contents may spill on his shirt, which he just pressed. Curiously, he brought the plastic cup closer to his nose so he could examine the contents inside better.

His nose twitched at the scent.

It reeked of stale beer, vodka, and was that someone’s mom’s wine?

And although the thought of drinking alcohol before an important day was tempting… Stan knew better. Making an appearance at a lame party rather than studying would be the worst of his crimes tonight. He held the cup away from his face, as far as possible, and started watching the morons around him.

They were drunk to their stomachs; happily grinding against each other to the beat of the music that blasted on the radio. They wouldn’t remember this night if they tried.

Stan, however, would remember. He would remember every detail of this boring party, where no one talked to him; where there’d be throw up in the pool to clean out the next day; where the cops would show up in an hour because the houses next door called in complaints. And Stan would be able to pass his Algebra test with ease the next day while everyone else would be using what was left of their braincells to remember how to factor an imaginary number.

“Hey!” Oh god. It was y/n. What was she doing next to him? The two barely knew each other. In fact, if Bill hadn’t taken a liking to her, or if Stan weren’t friends with Bill, he doubted he’d even know of her existence.

“Hi…” Stan looked skeptically at the girl who was practically throwing herself at him. “Do you need something?”

y/n only hummed in response. She was swaying to the song playing in the background, but her movements didn’t match the beat at all, and she looked just as wasted as the rest of the room.

“Do you speak English?” Stan’s eyebrows furrowed. He leaned down to meet her height. His eyes widened with surprise when she, once again didn’t reply, but wrapped her arm around his neck. Her touch was velvet and she smelled like roses.

Until she opened her mouth.

The potent stench of that cheap alcohol potion, Stan had briefly been intrigued by, hit his nose. He wanted so desperately to get away from her—pass her on to Bill, or something. But she placed a sloppy kiss on his lips just in time.

He’d been embarrassed to admit that was his first kiss.

You were supposed to have your first kiss with your girlfriend, or the girl next door, or best friend. Not with a stranger at some raunchy house party you were dragged to by your idiot friends. And certainly not with the girl your friend liked. But here Stan was, breaking all the rules.

There was something encapsulating about her cherry lip gloss which was smeared from when she kissed him and the way she stumbled terribly because of her inebriated state. Maybe Stan did understand.

y/n’s arm was still wrapped around his neck and her lips were dangerously close to his. He thought she was about to go in for another kiss until words made their way from her lips.

“Take me home?” Stan couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This girl who he’d never met before was taking a chance on a total stranger to take her home, trusting that he wouldn’t kidnap or murder her.

“I don’t even know you.” Stan tried his best to look bored when, in reality, this offer was tempting.

“Pleaseeee.” She was now clinging to him for dear life. “I think all my friends left me.” Her pouty expression was the final catalyst to Stan’s reaction.

“In that case… How could I say no?” It was as if his whole personality flipped a switch. His once stone cold and albeit, annoyed, features washed away, revealing a kindhearted guy only the Losers really got a chance to see.

A drunken giggle left her lips and y/n’s arm removed itself from Stan’s neck only to find itself tightly coiled around his arm. This was y/n’s signal for Stan to start making his way through the crowd in order to search for the front door. A task the boy already knew would be horrible.

He started awkwardly shifting and contorting himself just so he wouldn’t have to feel the sweaty bodies surrounding him. He also made sure not to lose y/n, but that task served pretty much impossible due to how fixed her grasp on his arm was.

It didn’t take long for Stan to finally reach the front door (which was somehow trashed). Thank god his shoes, and none of the other items on his being, for that matter, had come into contact with sticky liquid or bodily fluids. But the doorknob was covered in a substance that made Stan visibly cringe when he touched it.

“God, what do people do here.” y/n, still lazily hanging on was about to open her mouth. “I don’t want to know,” Stan said, quickly, looking at her from the corner of his eye.

A laugh so pleasant it made puppies look like beasts fell from y/n’s perfect lips. The longer Stan spent with this girl, the more he found to like about her.

A crisp breeze blew its way to the two of them and Stan wondered how it was this cold already when just last week it reached the seventies. The transition from summer to fall always bewildered him, no matter how many times he’d experience it.

“How far did you park?” She grew impatient and Stan couldn’t blame her. If he were in her shoes, he wouldn’t even want to stand. Fortunately, he could see the hood of his car peeking out from behind a someone’s Ford.

“Only a few more steps.” Stan reassured. His pace picked up and before another complaint could slip out of y/n’s mouth. “Oh, look at that, we’re already here.” He opened the door for her, but she didn’t budge. “Are you… gonna get in?” Stan waited rather impatiently for the girl who was lollygagging in front of the open door.

Wordlessly, she turned to face him and held her arms open and Stan understood.

Even though he sighed, Stan still picked her up and placed her gently in the passenger seat of his car.

“Such a gentleman,” she mumbled into his neck before he parted from her. Stan couldn’t help but smile at the remark.

It took awhile for him to find her address. y/n was too out of it to form any coherent sentence besides “you must be the coolest guy ev-ur” and what happened to be the lyrics to Highway to Hell. But after (uncomfortably and frantically) rifling through her purse, after asking where her house was and y/n only pointing to inside her bag, Stan had found the tag of the purse marked with her address in pink sharpie also signed with a heart. 

Neither said much on the drive there. Stan was inexperienced with talking to drunk girls, besides Bev, and y/n looked like she was inexperienced with talking. Nonetheless, he tried to make the best of it. He turned on the radio to his favorite station and let the songs carry him through the night.

“Thanks—thank you.” y/n said once Stan had arrived at her place. He walked her up to the porch; her figure stabilized by his arms. Her eyes burned holes through his under the moonlight and Stan was rendered speechless. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.” She started to sway again like she did at the party, but there was no music to dance to.

“You’re welcome.” Stan had finally mustered the courage to say, but he scolded himself internally for how lame he probably sounded.

“Well… goodnight.” y/n giggled drunkenly before her lips grazed his left cheek softly. It blossomed pink once she touched him. Could it even be considered a touch? It was so light, almost feather-like, and if Stan weren’t watching her like a hawk, he would have missed it.

The door shut with a slam and he cursed in his head for doing this to Bill and he cursed in his head the next day when his mind drew a blank on his functions test.

This was just great.

He scratched his head, as if that would somehow release the numerical knowledge he needed in order to at least get a sixty percent. Alas, it did nothing but relieve the itching on his dry scalp.

He silently racked his brain, yet nothing came. The only thing that came to mind were the events of last night. Are you kidding?

The bell rung.

Stan looked down at his paper only to find his name written neatly and compactly on the line reserved for it in dark lead and a measly ten questions out of the twenty answered. He pressed his lips together so hard, he thought they may bruise. Everyone else was already out the door, except for the slower kids in the back who took their sweet time.

“Uris.” The hairs on Stan’s arm stood to attention when he heard his name being called. He looked around to find the classroom was empty except for him and Mr. Burgess.

“Yes?” Stan looked up to the authority figure and he was wondering if he should pathetically ask for extra time on his test during another period or if he should turn it in as is.

“Don’t you have another class to get to?” Mr. Burgess was patient, but there would be another round of students filing in any minute now.

“Yeah.” Stan stood up and gathered his things. He was hasty but took enough time to put each item in their designated place. “I didn’t get a chance to finish.” Stan was aware third period was now replacing the empty seats and he lowered his voice.

“I see…” Mr. Burgess eyed the paper, both front and back, and then set it on a stack of papers from Stan’s class. “You can finish tomorrow. Either come in early or stay late.”

And at that, Stan was on his merry way to Mrs. Baker’s World Civilization class- or would be.  He stopped dead in his tracks when his path crossed y/n’s, a detail he never noticed. Her hands were covering her face to hide the blush that quickly raced to the apples of her cheeks. She was admiring something in her locker, but he couldn’t tell what. One of her girlfriends was standing with her, sharing the same giggles and same look of awe in her eyes.

Stan soon found out her blush was the work of Bill Denbrough’s when the Losers met up at lunch. They were sitting together like they always did, too engrossed in conversation to worry about what the lunch ladies’ specialty was today.

“I h-h-hope y/n luh-likes wh-what I g-guh-gave her,” Bill said all too suddenly.

“I’m sure she will,” Beverly reassured.

“What’d you get her.” It was hard for Stan to contain the jealousy that leaked from his words and instead of a question it sounded more like a demand.

“W-wuh-well usually I ju-just stick a skuh-skuh-sk-hetch in there or-or flow-flowers or something st-stupid an-and sm-small.” Bill cleared his throat as if that would rid him of his speech impediment. “Bu-but thi-this t-t-time I told her-”

“Did’ya sign your name?” Richie inquired. Usually he wouldn’t be interested in this sort of sappy stuff, but he was eager to see the development between Bill and his crush—rather, if Bill would ever grow the balls to reveal himself as y/n’s admirer.

Bill swallowed and kept silent.

“So, no.” Stan rolled his eyes. “I’m not surprised.”

Bill gave his friend a skeptical look. He was confused. While Stan was usually the most passive aggressive of the group, he was never this… insolent. But he shrugged off the countless possibilities for why Stan was acting this way.

“Are you ever gonna tell her?” Richie seemed about just as annoyed as Stan was.

“Wh-when the t-t-time’s ruh-ruh-right.” Bill looked to both Stan and Richie sternly, but the two knew better than that. When the time’s right.  

Yeah right.

Stan thought back to the scene at y/n’s locker from earlier. The morally sound thing to do would be to tell Bill. Tell Bill how y/n and her friend gushed at the sight of what was inside of her locker. Tell him how y/n’s knees were practically weak while she hid her face furiously with the sleeve of her shirt.

But nothing came out of his mouth. In fact, his mouth never opened. Stan stayed quiet for the last fifteen minutes that the Losers all had together. He stayed quiet as he stared at his salad and thought of y/n.

The y/n who was in an inappropriate state when he took her home. The y/n who was his first kiss. The y/n who was Bill’s crush.

Stan sat on this fact for a while.

He was at his desk, his eyebrows furrowed, and nose scrunched, while thinking this ridiculous inner conflict over. Something in his gut told Stan that Bill was never going to tell y/n how he felt. Bill Denbrough was not someone you’d label a coward, but god, when it came to girls, he was a pussy. On the other hand, there was something else that twisted his insides in another manner, telling Stan even if Bill never told y/n how he felt, that doesn’t mean he should swoop in either.

Stanley Uris was in a pickle.

His lips, once again, pressed against each other tightly, so tight he could feel bone. The mental wheels in his mind were turning, but no matter how far they spun, he still reached no conclusion.

An hour had passed when Stan finally looked at the analog clock that stood on the edge of his desk.

“If I tied a noose around my neck, I bet I’d come to a better conclusion,” Stan said darkly under his breath. He was still staring at the clock. It was getting late, but Richie Tozier would say that’s just when the fun’s starting.

Personally, Stan liked getting a head start on his bedtime routine. The other Losers made fun of him for it, but it kept him sane. He stretched, still sitting down and a yawn left his mouth. He padded his way to the bathroom just across the hall so he could brush his teeth and then change.

When his head full of curls hit his wrinkle free pillowcase and his arms pulled over his comforter to his chest, he assumed all thoughts of y/n would be gone. He would go to sleep, leaving the unconscious to take over his mind and body and he would forget.

He would forget the flowery scent that lingered on his shirt that night because she pressed herself so close to him. He would forget the feeling of her fingers that swept against him in the gentlest way and he would forget how he ever longed to feel them against the rest of him. He would forget that she kissed him—twice. When he would wake, he would have no recollection of that night and for all he knew, he’d never been kissed.

But Stan woke up to the burning want—no. The burning need to tell y/n how he felt. He knew he’d only known her for a fleeting moment, and it was absurd to catch feelings for someone you barely knew. But telling her would be the only way to ease the funny feeling in Stan’s stomach which seemed to be in knots lately.

At least that’s what Stan told himself as he walked up to y/n’s locker during the five-minute passing period they had between second and third period.

Luckily, y/n was there, and he wasn’t just about to confess to a slab of metal. She was chatting up the same friend from yesterday and the same glow lit up her eyes as she was explaining something to her.

“Isn’t it so thoughtful?” Stars replaced her pupils and she ran her fingers over the inked piece of parchment that was slipped into her locker from today.

“There’s no name,” her friend deadpanned. She, too, was looking at the note with y/n. But instead of fawning over the piece of work, she stared unimpressed—bored, almost.

“So?” y/n huffed. “It’s the thought that counts.”

“I think it would count more if you knew who it was from.” Stan wanted to smirk and tell Bill I told you so as he overheard their conversation.

“Yeah but—” y/n’s friend was waiting for her to finish but she stopped once she recognized the boy in front of them. “Hi!” She smiled at Stan and it was now his turn to say something.

“Hello.” He looked between y/n and her friend to which her friend then spoke up.

“I guess I’ll be going now.” And then three became two.

“What’s up?” y/n was oddly cheery considering it was eleven a.m. on a school day.

Where should I start?

Stan looked to her awkwardly and scratched his shoulder. He then noticed the piece of paper that most likely Bill had slipped in her locker that morning. It was a landscape drawing of Main Street, but there was a hidden message written within the building signs. Stan couldn’t quite make out what the message said, but he was sure it said something along the lines of: my heart beats for yours. Something Stan would never understand.

“Can you make this quick? Or maybe you can tell me at lunch?” y/n offered. The drawing was now out of sight—either back in her locker or tucked away in her backpack which was slung over her shoulder.

“I’ll tell you at lunch.” Stan felt his toes curl in his shoes and his heartbeat quicken under his skin.

y/n nodded and walked off. They didn’t need to say goodbye to each other because they’d be meeting each other in an hour, give or take.

y/n would be sitting by herself at a table in the far corner of the cafeteria. Stan spotted her easily because ever since that night it was as if the image of her was ingrained in his brain.

“I’ve been on the edge of my seat ever since you came up to me at my locker,” y/n admitted. There was sort of a shyness that carried itself through her voice that Stan didn’t recognize. She was different under the influence. Confident. Bold. Affectionate. Different. But here she was, in front of him; hunched over, exposing her insecurity of the situation. The fact that she had told him she was anxious for this moment was big for her.  

“Really?” Disbelief marked Stan’s face. Girls didn’t usually jump at a chance at Stan and Stan didn’t usually jump at the chance at girls. His studies took too much time away from his social life and the Losers proved to be enough social interaction for him, no matter how many times they’d encouraged him to get out there.

Bill, Stan, Eddie, and Richie were all hanging out in Bill’s room. Richie leaned against the cracked window while he smoked and Eddie sat next to him, taking puffs from his inhaler similarly to how Richie took breaths of the cigarette. He was cautious of the secondhand smoke he feared would enter his lungs. Bill was busy messing with his new record player.

“Record players are so old.” Eddie’s nose scrunched when The Cure started playing but no sign of malice could be detected from his voice.

“Sh-sh-shut up.” Bill laughed and joined the other three, crossing his legs as he sat.

Stan faintly recalled him then going on about y/n and he could sense the others internally groaning with him.

“T-today, her h-h-hand brushed uh-against mine when we were g-getting beakers… ff-for our lab.” His lips curled into an even bigger smile just thinking about it. But he was always smiling at the thought of her. He was now laying on the hardwood floor. His fingers were laced together and stretched behind his head.

It was just a simple interaction, but Bill remembered every detail. He felt his body transport itself to dream world.

Bill was sitting at the lab table with his two other partners—a football player named Jack and a blonde girl named Stacy. He knew as much about them as they knew about him and it wasn’t in his plans to make buddy-buddy with the two. He took the cue to leap from his stool when their teacher announced that one person from each group gets supplies and y/n y/l/n was the designated supplies-getter.

Hastily, he walked over to the cabinet where the beakers were stored. There was already a crowd of unenthusiastic students lined up to get their share and luckily, they cleared the air soon enough. It proved no difficulty for Bill to reach the top shelf, as he had done many times before, but he found it hard to breathe once another, smaller, hand came into contact with his own. Her nails were filed perfectly and painted a deep shade of blue that were chipped to infinity, reminding him of Richie. A silver band hugged her ring finger that felt cold compared to the rest of her hand that pressed against his.

“Excuse me,” she whispered, and Bill gladly stepped aside.

“You can be a sap sometimes, Big Bill,” Richie said, shaking Bill from his daydream.

Bill rolled his eyes and sat up. He wasn’t in the mood to make a jab at Richie, but it would’ve done him good. “I-ih-t’s called having a h-h-heart. You sh-should t-t-t-try it sometime.”

“Oh, it hurts me that you think I’m heartless.” Richie sighed and leaned a little too close for Eddie’s liking. “You don’t think I’m heartless, do ya, Eds?” He started making kissy faces before he doubled over into his lap.

“Shove off.” Eddie pushed him so his side was pressed into the floorboard as he continued to laugh.

“Wuh-wuh-what ab-out you Stan?” Bill turned his attention towards Stan who was listening quietly. His back stood straight, and he hadn’t changed his position since he sat down.

“What about me?” Stan wondered. He was sure this conversation was going to lead into some sort of back and forth girl talk that he had no business being apart of. It wasn’t like Stan wasn’t attracted to girls. He just hadn’t found the right one yet.

That was, until now.

The sound of her backpack unzipping made his ears perk. She was digging for something Stan couldn’t see. Maybe if he was at a different angle…

“You did this, right?” She shoved the neatly folded drawing from earlier in front of his face.

“Wait, what?” Stan looked at her incredulously and took the paper in his hands. Carefully, he unfolded it and smoothed the wrinkles out—not like there were many. He studied his friend’s work. It was obvious Bill had put great effort into it; into liking y/n. To take his credit would be a new low, even for him.

“You’re the one who’s been putting stuff in my locker!” y/n insisted. “I wasn’t really sure until a few nights ago…” Her eyes broke contact from him, all the sudden becoming nervous. “You know… When you took me home?” She faced Stan again and this time Stan was too nervous to look at her.

“No,” He finally said. He wasn’t looking at her so he couldn’t see her confused expression. Stan passed the paper back to her.

“No?”

“I mean…” Stan was wondering how to word this. He didn’t have all day, but he also didn’t know how to get himself out of this dilemma.

How do you tell someone you like them, but you’re not their secret admirer—your friend is?

“I’m not the one who’s been sending you stuff,” Stan said smoothly. Like that.

“You… aren’t?” y/n’s voice started to falter but was soon swallowed by a chuckle. “Well, this is embarrassing.” She haphazardly shoved the parchment into her bag only for her to smooth it out later in the day when she got home.

“No, it’s not.” Stan’s monotone voice served no reassurance for y/n, no matter how much she wanted to hear those words. But she didn’t say anything, only cocked her head, prompting for him to continue. “I’m not the one who’s been putting stuff in your lockers but that doesn’t mean I don’t like you.”

y/n’s already tense muscles relaxed at this, but she was still left with a problem.

“I was so sure of it,” she said in a mumble so low Stan almost didn’t catch.

“What’s wrong?” Stan asked. “I like you. Don’t…” Embarrassment crept up the back of his throat as the next sentence spilled out. “Don’t you like me?”

y/n nodded but didn’t say anything. She readjusted herself on her seat, robbing him of an answer.

“Do you remember what happened that night?” Nothing bad happened. Nothing even remotely, as Richie would put it, hot, happened. But it was the night that changed everything.

“Yeah.” y/n sucked in a deep breath as she remembered.

y/n hadn’t planned to get so drunk off her ass that she couldn’t walk. In fact, y/n hadn’t even planned to go out. But there she was, on a Tuesday night. Her friends had left her to suck the skin off each other’s faces and y/n had become a little too good at beer pong.

Whoever was in charge of the alcohol had no taste buds, but she needed all the liquid courage she could get, because tonight was the night. Tonight, was the night y/n y/l/n was going to face Stanley Uris.

Of course, she had known of the boy. She’d gone to the same school as him ever since she could remember. It wasn’t until this year when she was aware of his existence.

He usually stayed behind the scenes; his nose burrowed in a textbook whenever she saw him alone and when she didn’t, he was usually hanging out with the same group of friends from middle school.

Lately, however, something about him just seemed to make sense. The idea of her and him together made sense. Coincidentally, her infatuation with the boy had picked up around the same time anonymous drawings and knick-knacks had found their way in her locker.

Was it so wrong to believe that it was destiny working its magic?

Or maybe the belief of Stan being anonymous was just the workings of her silly little school crush.

Either way, she took the chance; finding the perfect time to fall into his arms. If she had confessed to him any earlier, she would’ve gotten an unwanted response.

“Can I ask?” y/n started, but Stan knew she was going to ask the question afterwards anyway. “Do you know? Do you know who’s been sending me the stuff?”

Stan swallowed. He swallowed so hard his throat burned. He didn’t want what they had to end like this.

What they had. They didn’t have anything.

“Bill Denbrough.” He looked down even though he had nothing to be ashamed of. “Do you like me or do you like the person who’s been sending you the stuff?” Stan asked. It was a fair question. An easy question. But y/n, for some reason, couldn’t tell the difference between the two.

It was clear as day that Bill Denbrough and Stanley Uris were two different people. y/n just couldn’t fathom Stan not being her secret admirer—as cocky as it sounds. For two months, she’s imagined him as the one sending her landscape sketches and confessing his love for her. Her heart couldn’t help but fall into an endless pit, also known as the void.

“I guess I just thought of you as the person sending me the stuff,” y/n answered honestly, and an odd sort of sadness washed over Stan when she said that. They were truly stuck in a catch twenty-two and he still failed to understand how he got there. “Do you like me?” The question was ridiculous, but it was reasonable for her to ask.

“Yes,” Stan said, but he was hesitant. His mind couldn’t help but track back to Bill and the countless times he had swooned over y/n. Stan may be the one telling her how he felt but he wasn’t the one who never failed to stutter her name in conversations and make googly eyes at her from across the room.

What Stan had felt these past few days was what Bill felt these past years.  

If y/n were stupid she would have accepted Stan’s answer. She would have given him his third kiss right then and there and proclaimed they were dating as they left the lunchroom. But she wasn’t stupid. She was anything but.

“I really like you.” Stan swore this was something she’d said before, but it wasn’t. It was new. It seemed as if everything was new. “Or… liked you,” y/n spoke again, and maybe the rose-colored glasses she was wearing were coming off.

Stan nodded. He knew what this meant and stood up from his seat. There were only five minutes of lunch left when he looked at the clock that hung from the brick wall and he was going to make perfect use of it.

“Good news.” Stan walked up from behind Bill who was sitting with the rest of the Losers. He ignored Beverly’s where were you’s and took a seat facing his friend. “y/n likes you back.”

[sodamvelvets]

“ilysb”

park sooyoung x fem idol reader

warnings: intense make out at the start?

word count: 2,790

a/n: this one is inspired by LANY’s ILYSB, it’s my favorite song at the moment :) As promised, Yeri will be next! I really like how this one turned out, so I hope you guys like it too!

Sooyoung wakes up with her arms wrapped tightly around you, your head buried in the crook of her neck. Your soft breaths tickle her skin, causing Sooyoung to smile broadly as she presses a feather-light kiss onto the top of your skull, breathing in the scent of your shampoo. 

“I love you,” She whispers, not caring that in your sleeping state you won’t hear her.

Gently, she tucks a strand of your unkempt hair behind your ear, careful not to wake you, stopping for a moment to admire your delicate features. As she takes in your peaceful expression Sooyoung is certain that no one has ever made her feel the way she feels about you before. No one has ever been able to make her heartbeat quicken to the point where she thinks it will jump from her chest, with just the smallest smile. No one has ever been able to leave her wordless, struggling to even form a single sentence. And most importantly, no one has ever been able to make Sooyoung feel as if she’d move mountains just to hear your elegant laugh. 

Before you, Sooyoung occasionally found herself regretting her decision to become an idol. Despite the fact that she loved singing, and even more so her fans, but sometimes she wished she could have a normal life, where her every move wasn’t stalked and critiqued. Her life often felt like she was walking a thin and endless tightrope, where a single misstep would cause her to fall to her doom. It was difficult, finding a balance of her private life and her public one, and while her members also struggled with the same thing, she felt they didn’t truly understand her, none of them ever seemed to be unhappy with their choice to be an idol in the way Sooyoung was, and not wanting to appear ungrateful, she kept it to herself. But then she met you and all doubts about her career disappeared because she realized if she hadn’t become a singer, she would never have met you. 

It was backstage at one of Red Velvet’s promotional Inkigayo stages when she first saw you, waiting silently to perform with your bandmates and listening intently to your leader’s encouraging words. All of you were part of a still relatively new rookie group under YG Entertainment. At the time, Sooyoung had only briefly heard of you before, having heard short clips of your newest title track on the radio, but until then, she had never actually seen you and your members. But when her eyes landed on your group, more specifically you, her jaw dropped. 

Like many idols under YG, you had a striking beauty, and you held yourself with a certain cold confidence that left an icy feeling in your wake, something your makeup artists definitely played up to, making sure to paint your face in a mature and intimidating way that left Sooyoung staring. Sooyoung was only further smitten as she watched your performance, a bad girl concept that you and your bandmates nailed, your body rolls and intense moves leaving Sooyoung gaping, which Yerim had, of course, made sure to tease her for, the troublesome maknae even going as far to approach your group, and give you Sooyoung’s personal number with a smirk, all while Sooyoung watched with reddened cheeks. 

That had been almost a year and a half ago though, and now the two of you were in a fairly open relationship, both of your companies surprisingly having agreed to let the two of you go public, with a few restrictions of course. 

“Hey Sooyoung,” A smile spreads across Sooyoung’s face as she hears your husking voice.

“Hi Y/N,” Sooyoung says, shifting her body so your noses are touching, appreciating the way the golden flecks of your brown eyes sparkle in the morning sun. “How did you sleep?”

“Good,” You murmur, snaking a hand under Sooyoung’s shirt and beginning to draw circles on her abdomen. “Last night was very tiring.”

Sooyoung chuckles, moving to kiss you, but you shove her away. “Ew, morning breath.” You whine, opening your mouth to continue before Sooyoung quickly cuts you off by flipping you on your back and straddling your waist, wearing a dangerous expression that makes you swallow thickly as the words die in your throat, no longer testifying as she captures your lips with her own in a bruising kiss, nipping at your bottom lip as her tongue tangles with yours, moaning into your mouth. Her palms press you deeper into the mattress causing you to whimper as her kiss becomes rougher, her fingers moving to tangle themselves amongst your already messy hair as she presses her knee in between your legs causing you to let out a surprised gasp. 

At the sound, Sooyoung instantly pulls herself away, wearing a knowing grin. “So, I was thinking we could drive out to the Gwangjang Market,” Sooyoung says casually, still hovering over you as your body squirms slightly, trying to escape her grasp. 

“Isn’t that a little far away?” You huff breathlessly as Sooyoung begins to teasingly kiss down your jaw. 

“Yeah,” She says, groaning as you finally manage to push her off, and by the annoyed look in your eyes, she gets the sense that you’ve figured out she was simply trying to work you up without actually finishing anything. “But the bindaetteok is worth it.”

You laugh, and Sooyoung pulls your body so your head is resting on her chest. “Fine,” You say. “But you better keep your hands to yourself, Park Sooyoung.”

///

“You look good,” Sooyoung comments with a lopsided smile as you step out of your shared walk-in closet, wearing a pair of ripped jeans and a Lie Collection T-shirt, coupled with one of Sooyoung’s leather jackets. It’s a much better outfit, Sooyoung thinks, than her plain black slacks and white blouse.

You raise a brow. “You’re only saying that because this jacket is yours.” You respond, a teasing lilt in your voice. 

Sooyoung stands, her taller form towering over you as she wraps her arms around your waist. “Maybe.”

You giggle and poke her side, causing her to let out a melodramatic yelp. “Sooyoung,” You say, rolling your eyes. “We should get going, it takes an hour to get there.”

Sooyoung holds your hand throughout the car ride, the two of you making comfortable small talk as Sooyoung drives through the already busy roads of Seoul. Occasionally, she steals glances at you, admiring your serene expression as you watch the colorful billboards pass by, quickly directing her attention forwards when you look over at Sooyoung, knowing if you caught her staring you’d chide her and tell Sooyoung to keep her eyes on the road. 

“We’re here,” Sooyoung says as she pulls to stop in a public parking garage a couple miles away from the market. “Well kind of, we have to walk the rest of the way, if that’s alright?”

“That’s fine Sooyoung,” You say, moving to get out, but Sooyoung grabs your wrist.

“Wait, don’t move.”

Sooyoung hears you chuckle as she gets out of the car, walking around to open the passenger side door and offering you her hand, which you take. “I see Seungwan is starting to rub off on you,” You joke. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sooyoung asks as the two of you head for the garage exit.

You shrug. “The both of you are unbelievably greasy Sooyoung.” 

Sooyoung lightly shoves you, feigning offense, before reaching into her bag and producing two pairs of sunglasses. Even though the two of you are out to the public, Sooyoung would still prefer if neither of your fans were to recognize you and interrupt your date today. “Put these on.” 

You nod, taking them from Sooyoung and slipping them on just before the two of you step into the bustling street. 

“It’s a nice day,” Sooyoung notes, glancing up at the clear blue skies. “Jongmyo Park is just behind us, we should go later.”

“Sure, it’s been a while since we last went there.” You say, reaching to interlace your fingers with Sooyoung’s but she dodges your grasp, instead slipping her hand into your back pocket, and pulling you into her side.

Sooyoung laughs as your cheeks redden, enjoying your flustered state as well as the feeling of your smaller body fitting perfectly into hers. 

It takes you and Sooyoung about thirty minutes to reach the market, Sooyoung complaining it would’ve taken less time if you hadn’t insisted on stopping to take photos for your social media along the way, which only earns her a slap to the back of her head. 

As usual, Gwangjang is crowded with people, tourists and locals alike, and Sooyoung holds you close as you weave through the masses, pointing out stalls here and there that she notices are selling your favorite dishes, before eventually settling on a vendor. 

“I’m not all that hungry,” You murmur into Sooyoung’s ear. “I’ll just have some of whatever you get.”

Sooyoung raises a brow, and orders two plates of bindaetteok and a side of japchae, knowing you’d want your own once you started eating some of Sooyoung’s. 

“Sooyoung,” You whine as she passes the shop owner twenty thousand won. “I have a comeback soon, I can’t be eating this type of stuff!”

Sooyoung frowns, in her opinion, you’ve always been too harsh on yourself during your dieting periods. “Y/N, you’re going to need your energy for your practice from somewhere.” She scolds, pushing the food into your hands. “Plus it’s only one dish, and knowing you, you’ll burn it off in seconds.”

Hesitantly you nod, sitting down next to Sooyoung at the stall’s table, Sooyoung watching as you begin to eat and laughing at the way your eyes light up at the taste. 

“Thank you, Sooyoung,” You say, kissing her cheek as both of you finish your breakfasts, and stand to leave, Sooyoung once again wrapping an arm around your waist. 

She hums contentedly in response, giving you a warm smile that you gladly return. Sooyoung’s gaze flicks from store to store as you and her walk towards one of the many market exits, quietly admiring the delicately crafted silk hanboks that are displayed in some of the shop entrances. 

As the two of you step outside, Sooyoung notices the sun is slightly lower in the sky than when you first entered Gwangjang, and the air feels a few degrees colder. 

“Still want to go to Jongmyo?” Sooyoung questions. 

You nod. “Mm-hmm.”

A comfortable silence settles between you and Sooyoung as you walk, your footsteps falling into a synchronized pace, Sooyoung adoringly watching as you excitedly point out stores that interest you, squealing when you spot a poster featuring you and your group in your latest partnership with a popular makeup brand and she chuckles as you delightedly take a picture of the ad to send to your members, beginning to text back and forth with them. 

Sooyoung appreciates the new outlook you’ve brought to her life that makes her so much more grateful for moments like these. She loves the youthfulness you’ve given her but also the wisdom, and in a way you remind her of Joohyun, both of you sharing a seemingly icy personality, that once melted reveals a gentle and caring person who while sometimes childish, can also be mature and professional. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask as you look up from your phone. 

Sooyoung blinks, not realizing she had been staring. “What?”

You smirk. “You were staring like a creep.”

Sooyoung rolls her eyes, pulling you into her arms. “Is it so wrong for me to want to admire my beautiful girlfriend?” She mumbles into your hair. 

“I suppose not,” You say, reaching up to pinch Sooyoung’s cheek, Sooyoung surprising even herself, when she doesn’t swat your hand away. “You know,” You whisper teasingly. “If your members saw this, they’d say you’re getting soft.”

“I am not,” Sooyoung pouts, lightly pushing you away from her, causing you to laugh boisterously, and Sooyoung can’t help but let her scowl turn to a smile at the sound, interlacing her fingers with yours, and wordlessly letting you know you’re already forgiven as the two of you walk the rest of the way to Jongmyo, only stopping once you reach the park’s small pond where a tiny island sits with a large bonsai growing from its center. 

Sooyoung sighs happily as you lean into her side, resting your head on her shoulder. 

“I really missed this, Sooyoung,” You say suddenly. 

Sooyoung glances at you curiously, biting her lip. “Missed what?”

“Just being with you,” You sigh. “Our schedules haven’t been lining up recently, with my group’s upcoming comeback and your sponsorships,” A sad chuckle escapes your lips. “So I guess it’s just nice to be with you finally.”

It’s true, Sooyoung realizes, you’ve both been so busy lately that this is the first time in weeks you’ve been able to have a day to yourself. Despite living together, Sooyoung barely sees you around, unless it’s dead asleep in your bed, exhausted from a long day of practice. 

“Y/N,” Sooyoung says, turning your body so she can cup your face. “You don’t know how much I wish I could always be with you, but right now we only have this time together, so we have to make do with what we have. Plus,” Sooyoung adds, stroking your cheek. “Once you nail your comeback and finish promotions we’ll have even more time to be with each other.”

“Why do you always have to be right Sooyoung?” You murmur, hugging Sooyoung tightly. 

“It’s a talent,” Sooyoung jokes, frowning as she feels your body tense in her grasp.

“Someone’s watching us,” You whisper into Sooyoung’s neck. 

Sooyoung glances over your head, and sure enough, she spots a tall form standing across the pond in the shade of a tree. She squints, unable to make out any distinguishing features except the camera in their hands that is clearly angled at the two of you. “Let them,” She growls, capturing your lips in a rough and possessive kiss, her fingers digging into your hips as she holds you impossibly close, the world around her fading, becoming one about only you and the feeling of your body against hers. 

///

The photos of your date are already circulating the web by the time you and Sooyoung get home, and Sooyoung can’t help but laugh at you as you sit at the kitchen table scrolling through Dispatch’s latest article dubbing you ‘Korea’s Favorite Couple’, a blush clearly evident on your face. 

“I can’t believe they managed to follow us,” You mutter, closing your laptop and leaning back in your chair wearing a face of disbelief. “They even have pictures of us at Gwangjang, and that place is so crowded it’s nearly impossible to follow anyone.”

“Nothing is impossible for Dispatch,” Sooyoung jokes, leaning against the counter as she scrolls through her music playlists, before eventually selecting Somethin’ Kinda Crazy with a smirk, setting her phone down as the first verses begin to play.  

“Seriously?” You ask, making an unimpressed expression, immediately recognizing Seulgi and Seungwan’s distinct voices. “You’re playing your own song?”

Sooyoung shrugs, choosing to ignore your words as she walks behind you, wrapping her arms around you and starting to pepper your neck with kisses. “Dance with me,” She says quietly.

You giggle, clearly surprised by the request. “What?”

“Dance with me,” Sooyoung repeats, a begging look in her eyes. “Please?” She quickly adds, noticing your raised brow. 

“Fine,” You say, swatting Sooyoung away and standing from your seat. 

With a smile, Sooyoung gently places her hands on your hips, beginning to sway your bodies back and forth in sync as your head rests on her shoulder. Sooyoung hums along to the music, twirling you around occasionally and Sooyoung doesn’t think she’s ever been happier. 

A long time ago, Sooyoung regretted becoming an idol, wishing she could have a sense of normalcy. But as she holds you, she realizes she doesn’t regret anything anymore, not only has she found someone that can give her that simple life she’s always craved, but she’s also found someone who can understand her struggles as a celebrity. She’s found her soulmate.

“I like this song,” You murmur as the track shifts to the familiar beat of LANY’s ILYSB, and Sooyoung presses a gentle kiss to your lips, letting the music warp the two of you into your own personal universe.

“I love you, babe, so bad,” Sooyoung sings softly, and despite it being a part of the song, Sooyoung means every word of it, she does love you, so very bad. 

[nctzendreamz]

Psycho — Bae Joohyun

Irene really, really loves you. Too much, you begin to realize.

Warnings: Psychotic!Au, mentions of abuse, murder, language, and in general dark themes.

Word Count: 7k

January 16, 2020 — 9:45PM

She might as well have been a celebrity, as she was the key reason that this coffee shop got visitors. Her silky smooth skin, complimented by her sparkling eyes and perfect build was everything the masses needed to get up early in the mornings before work.

She couldn’t count all the numbers she had recieved in just the couple of months she had been employed at Velvets; the coffee shop that rested in the center of the city. It’s red and pink decor, followed by the hand crafted decorations from so many visitors in the past, was exactly where Bae Joohyun, more frequently referred to as Irene belonged.

She always had the same greeting. It was in the protocol, after all.

“Hello! Welcome to Velvet’s. How are you doing today?”

And today is no different. She always tries her best to look right at the customer as soon as she hears the familiar bell, indicating the door had opened, but her nail was chipping, and it was driving her nuts. She says her line, still fiddling before she realizes that it can’t be fixed until later.

“I’m so sorry! It’s been a long—“

And then she stops. She has seen a million people come and go to her place of work. Most of them found her beauty to be enchanting, but even the finest of them could barely make her blink. No matter how hard they tried to merge the conversation onto dinner, or what she was doing after her shift, her facial expression stayed the same—dull and unimpressed.

But you. You’re standing here in all of your glory, hair perfectly sculpted to your face. She loves this look on you. It’s the perfect color to compliment your perfect skin, and daring eyes as they swallow her whole. Usually, she did this to others, yet here you were, snatching her soul—seemingly without even trying. 

“A long day.” She finally breaths out. Her heart is racing at a dangerous pace, and she knows she looks like a creep right now. Her dark eyes are trying to break you down, and bring you to your knees, but it’s not working.

“I understand that.” You giggle. You seem tired. The bags under your eyes are slight, but still drooped enough to which she can tell you’re either a student, or you work a nine to five. Regardless, you’re not always free. Your clothing is simple. Sweats, a hoodie, and some ugg boots to shield you from the cold weather. “Your nails are so cute, by the way.” You smile, and it’s calming. It’s not a full on cheese session, but that makes it even better. It’s simple, just as you seem to be.

“Don’t flatter me.” She begins, showing them to you in full form over the marble counter. “It’s chipped.”

“And still cute.” You assure, smoothly moving a sole finger across the nail. “Is it gel polish?” You question with an adorable head tilt. Absolutely priceless. You’re probably very good at getting what you want. You know exactly how to move, and lighten your voice to make people feel what you want them to feel.

“It is. You know—

“It stays on longer.” You finish for her.

“Exactly.” She can’t hold in her smile. Was her heart...warming? If so, that meant her cheeks were turning pink, which also meant that you could see clearly that you were doing it right. If you were flirting with her, you were doing it so well, and so respectfully.

“I’ll just take a hazelnut.” You breathe out. Your hands are in your pockets, and you’re shifting the weight from your toes to your heels repeatedly. You must be cold. When you’re cold, you get jittery it seems. That’s why you’re in here in the nick of time. You’re definitely in school. You probably just got out of class, and have a shit-ton of homework to finish. That’s why you need the coffee and that’s why you seem so exhausted; although you’re trying to hide it from her.

“Hazelnut!” She shouts, turning around and giving the ticket to the real worker in here. She doesn’t even look at him as reaches out to snatch it from her. “Is that your favorite?”

“The only coffee I will drink.” You admit, covering your face with your hands. You’re embarrassed. You probably feel somewhat uncultured, and childish for even saying that out loud.

“Have you ever tried another?” She says in a light tone, tilting her head just as you did a few minutes ago. Still, you’re unfazed. You actually close your eyes for a moment before snapping them back open.

“I have. I think it was roasted chestnut? Whatever it was it was not good at all.” And now you’re laughing. Your laugh—it’s beautiful. It’s not a subtle, shy chuckle that would indicate you don’t laugh often. You laugh all the time. She can’t tell if it’s a boyfriend that always has you geeked like this, or maybe your friends. Maybe, even your girlfriend, but that would break her heart too much.

“Well, coffee isn’t the only good thing here. We’re not Starbucks, but our frapachinos are pretty good.” Irene mentions, eyes flicking to the frap menu to the left of her. She lets the red sweater she spotted slip off her shoulder ever so slightly, and you’re looking at it. It was for a mere second, but she saw it.

“Here you go.” Josh—the chef of this shift interrupted, handing you your coffee quickly.

“That’s the fastest you’ve ever done that.” Irene seethes, shooting an annoyed look to her co-worker.

“Trying to close. No offense.” Josh nods to you, already starting the trials and tribulations that closing involved. He’s wetting a rag in preparation of wiping all of the counters down.

“Oh, none taken. I hate to be that customer that comes in late like this. I just have all this work to catch up on and I figured buying aderall from the guy who sits beside me in Psych wasn’t the best idea.”

Irene breaks into a fit of laughter. Truthfully, she wasn’t faking it. You were so funny. But she was also right. She hit the nail right on the head, actually. Josh couldn’t believe his ears as he had barely seen her smile a genuine cheese. Of course he stayed silent. “You’re funny!” She coughs out through her fit.

“Don’t flatter me.” You smile brightly. Your smile is so pretty, just like you. God, she was running through too many scenarios on how she could make you stay. “Thanks for this pleasing experience. Today sucked and I needed it so badly. Do you guys have like a manager or something? Or like a survey?”

She had never been asked this before. No one had ever cared to commend them on their excellent service and caffeine recovery program they had in place for the addicts. “Um...no. But what you can do is come back. To repay us.” She whispers the last part.

She needs your name. She just knows someone like you has the most goregeous name.

And the heavens answers her request. She already saw that you had a necklace hiding under your hoodie, but you’re pulling it out now. It’s a name; she just needs to know who it is.

“That necklace, I love it.” She leans over the counter, squinting to see the name. “Y/N.” She mumbles. “Is that your name?”

“It is.” You respond. “People say it’s stupid to wear your own name, but it’s comforting to me. Plus, I don’t have someone else’s name to wear so.”

So, you were single.

“Don’t get too discouraged. Someone could come and change that. Very soon, actually.” She purrs, and she finally does it. She’s getting in your head. You’re seeing her.

You leave, your walk mezmorizing her in ways that makes her tingle. She barely follows the procedures of cleaning, as all she wants to do is go home. She needs to know everything about you.

“Y/N L/N. Twenty four years old. Younger than me.”

It wasn’t that hard to find your all your social media. All public, minus your Facebook account. Your Twitter consists of retweets of memes that probably made you scream, and your own little comedy that your select friends liked as they felt obligated.

She can’t lie; she was expecting to see a tweet about her. Something about a beautiful girl in the coffee shop. But there was nothing. Not a peep. Then again, maybe this was a good sign. Maybe you liked to keep your loves private. She’s searching through your pictures, embellishing in the sight of you until something stops her scrolling.

It’s a picture of you, and another guy. His hair is black, but his features are far from plain. He’s not impressive to her, but she knows to you, he’s everything. He seems to be just your type.

It’s been two years, and yet, it feels like a thousand.

The caption is so short, yet so sweet and gentle. It’s telling a million stories with one sentence, and even she can tell there’s real love in the photo. On your side, at least. She feels sick now. He’s tagged on the photo.

Lee Taeyong. That’s his name. The first place she searches is his likes, where she knows she’ll find proof of him being a scumbag. The way you addressed your necklace; it’s almost as if it was a mere replacement for a previous. It was a somber, silent story.

A lot of his likes are filled with hip-hop. Viral dances, artist appreciation, funny memes just as you enjoyed. You two probably found love through a similar interest. She continues to scroll though, where she finds something that truly twists her stomach. A quote.

Do you ever wish you could turn back time? Fix a mistake? Go back to when everything was perfect? When you could hold her and she was yours? Because same.

He hurt you. She didn’t know what he did, but she knows he hurt you. Her first guess was cheating, and she was going to stick to it. Maybe your chill nature was because your walls were up so high. Maybe your intense laughter wasn’t because you laughed all the time, but instead because you hadn’t laughed in a while. And it was all his fault—fuck Lee Taeyong.

He works at a video game store. No—he owns an arcade to be exact. She was going to see him. She needed to observe him in person. See his vibe. In the mean time, she can follow you on Instagram. That’s not too weird, right?

January 17, 2020 — 7:30PM

“Welcome to T’s.” A dull voice speaks.

Although the lighting in the arcade is practically blinding—all the neon creating a cool atmosphere, their customer service is awful. Probably a telling to his personality if that’s the kind of people he hired.

She waited for a moment, waiting for more. How can they just assume she knows what she’s doing? What kind of place was this? It’s a Saturday afternoon, and it shows because people are everywhere. Kids are running around, and adults are talking trash to eachother as they bet money on who will win the car game. “Men.” She sighs. But with her sighs brings the man she’s looking for. He’s almost blending in with his all black clothing, but she knows it’s him. He’s hard to miss, but not because of his features. It’s because she hates him.

Her current outfit; a tight red dress and dangerous heels aren’t really arcade attire, but she doesn’t care. She clacks her way over to Taeyong, who is surrounded by many people. He must be popular. He definitely cheated on you. The girls around him were ridiculous. So much for missing you.

She knows approaching so quickly would be foolish. It wouldn’t make sense. She decides instead to creep around, wanting to know who these people are. As she gets closer, she can recognize almost all of them. Chungha—your seemingly bestfriend was here, some guy with his arm around her shoulder. The Johnny she had seen pop up on your feed a few times, the Ten, and lastly, the Momo. Momo also seems to have some unspoken feelings about you.

She could feel it in the way she comments under your pictures. You couldn’t notice her flirtatious nature, but it was there.

The most beautiful human in the world.

My favorite.

Can I be you?

More like—can I be with you?

“Excuse me.” Irene finally speaks, interupting their laughter. She was hoping they’d give her a dirty look, so she could have even more of a reason to turn you against them, but they don’t. They look at her in synch, smiles still on their faces.

“What’s up?” Johnny says, a dashing grin on his face. Another who thinks she’s too beautiful. Exactly how she felt about you. “Are you new around here?”

Chungha punches him in the shoulder promptly, clearly not a fan of his approach. Irene can see why she was your chosen best-friend. Then again, was she really your friend? I mean, all of these people were hanging around your ex boyfriend and the only person who wasn’t here is you?

“Sorry about that.” She apologizes. “Us pretty girls are hard to come by, and they get extremely thirsty.”

She’s funny, but not as funny as you.

“Oh it’s fine. I’m Irene.” She introduces, placing her frail hand out. It connects with Chungha’s, and it’s genuine. “He’s right. I am new here. I’m a tad overdressed, I see.”

“I’m not complaining.” Johnny adds, receiving a punch from Taeyong this time.

So, he’s somewhat of a woman supporter too. I mean, he didn’t have to stop him from his words, but he did.

“I’m Taeyong.” He sighs, but he doesn’t place his hand out. That’s odd. The glow of games is making all of them look nothing less of models, but that doesn’t mean she’s impressed. No one was better than you.

“You know, you’re allowed to touch a girl other than your family and Y/N.” Johnny jokes.

The mention of your name makes everything in Irene’s body spike. They were acknowledging you, even though you weren’t here, which means maybe you didn’t mind them being here without you. Or maybe you and Taeyong weren’t exactly broken up. Something complicated instead.

He doesn’t say anything, just squints at his friend in an evil manner.

“Y/N.” Irene interrupts, putting a hand on her chin. “I met someone with that name last night.” She says. She knows exactly what she’s doing. “I work at Velvets, and this girl came in. She was wearing a necklace with that name.”

She watches for Taeyong’s reaction, and she gets what she wants. The mention of the cafe makes him almost flinch. Velvets must have been a place you two frequently visited together when you were dating. But then again, why did you seem so clueless about the menu? No, you weren’t. You mentioned you tried other coffee. It must have been with him. The way you laughed, it all makes sense now. You were thinking about him. A memory popped up.

She wants to ask if you were his ex, but that would be crossing the line. She had only known them for two minutes. It would seem too odd.

“Was she wearing sweat pants and a hoodie?” Momo questions now. Her hands are crossed over her chest, and Irene can’t read her. She doesn’t like that. Momo somewhat has her guard up.

“Yeah. I think she was.”

“That was definitely her. She’s been dressing like a complete bum lately.” Momo giggles now. If she didn’t already know this was her competition, she knows now. Momo is giggling just from thinking about you. You must make her laugh a lot. Irene doesn’t like her judgemental nature. You would be perfect in every state if she was a real one, but she’s not. So maybe she isn’t going to be a problem after all.

“You described her perfectly.” Irene seethes, quickly switching back to her normal state. The bright smile, and pink lip.

“How was she?” Taeyong questions. He still cares. She can see in in his eyes, but even if she was blind, it wouldn’t matter. His voice was so frail when talking about you.

“Oh brother.” Ten sighs

“I have a right to know.” Taeyong argues. He’s frustrated. He’s hot headed; at least when it comes to you.

“She seemed perfect to me. Laughing a lot, making jokes and stuff. I apologize if I’m out of place for this, but what’s going on? Is she okay?”

All of their faces seem to freeze for a mere second. They’re not uncomfortable with her question, but it seems like they’re wondering do they have permission to tell your buisness like that. They’re looking at Taeyong, presumably because it’s technically his buisness too.

Chungha is the first to speak. “She’s fine. These two,” she points to Taeyong, and then seemingly to thin air, “they broke up.”

Momo is oddly silent. She’s seemingly fuming, but no one is paying attention to her. That means none of these people know about her feelings for you. She’s been keeping it bottled up this entire time.

“Oh...sorry for asking.” Irene quickly scrambles, tucking her hair behind her ears. “I should’ve put that together by myself—

“It’s okay, beautiful.” Johnny places a hand on her shoulder, and she wants to slap the stupid grin off of his face, but he was going to be useful. He was stupid, and naive. One pull down of her panties, and he would tell her everything she needed to know. She moves into his touch, giggling just a tad.

The vibration of her phone distracts her, and she quickly searches for it in her Louis purse. You followed her back. One by one, you’re liking her pictures, and she can feel her heart beating hard through her little chest. Was her fairytale going to happen? Was she finally going to be able to fall in love again? God, she loved you already. Your sexy demeanor, your perfection. She needed you, and she would do anything to get it.

The bell of the shop dings, indicating that more people are walking in. From the way that they all freeze once again, she knows exactly who it is. She turns around and there you are. Her knees so badly want to get weak, but she controls herself. Today, you’re wearing an oversized t-shirt. She can’t tell if you have shorts on under, but she hopes you doesn’t. The shirt is from some band you listen to, and you have white converse on your feet. High top.

Momo is the first to greet you. She practically jumps into your arms, and Irene notices the way you don’t seem to mind. Her brain is starting to shock her, jolting her anger to all the wrong places. She could fucking kill Momo right now. The two of you are spinning around, Momo’s legs around your waist and you inhaling her scent. Everyone else is looking at the scene with a soft smile—they’re so stupid. How can they not see?

Momo finally returns back to the floor, and now you’re looking at her. She quickly fixes herself up, so quick, that you don’t even notice.

“Irene?”

The way you say her name is causing her to pool. She wants to hear you say it for the rest of the night. She takes a deep breath, not hiding it this time before she strides to you, hugging you. She knows this won’t make you uncomfortable. You seem to be willing to catch some affection for people you like. When she feels your hands on her middle back, she inhales you. You smell like spring, even in the winter, and that’s so beautiful. You’re so beautiful. She allows her cheek to graze against yours ever so slightly, and your noses to touch before she backs away. She sees the way you bite your lip. No one can see you but her, and she likes the thrill. It’s dangerous.

“Johnny.” You sigh, walking past him without a look. You don’t like Johnny—that’s obvious. Was he possible the reason for you and Taeyong’s break-up? “My Tenny!” You screech, putting his face in your hands like a baby and kissing his cheek softly. You have a soft side. “Chungha~” You sing, embracing her tightly. Now it was the big reveal. Would you speak to Taeyong? Or would you two do the awkward stare.

He still loves you. It’s obvious in the way that the love practically pours out of his eyes, and his hands shake. “Y/N.” He whispers. It’s like no one else is in the room. You must have not seen any of them in a while, based on the way they stare at you admiringly.

“Hey.” You whisper back, slowly moving to hug him. He closes his eyes for a mere second, and it’s all over. Now you’re back beside Irene, who’s very pleased.

“Irene was just telling us that the two of you know eachother.” Johnny speaks. He’s trying to get back into your good graces. It’s so obvious it’s painful.

“Yeah.” You smile, but not at him. “I was at Velvets getting my usual, and then we met. Surprised to see you here though.” You’re looking at her now.

“What? Just because I’m in a dress means I can’t be a gamer?” She jokes, and everyone around laughs. Everyone but Momo.

“No. Momo wears dresses.” You say, slapping her thigh gently. Why do you keep touching her? She’s standing right here, looking good for you, and you’re flirting with Momo? “There’s just a lot of assholes in a place like this. You don’t seem to be interested in that.”

“Well, how about I prove you wrong? Loser has to buy the other coffee.” She prompts.

She hopes everyone else looks jealous. Especially Momo. Knowing you, even if you wanted to say no, you weren’t going to deny her.

“Any coffee?” You question with a raised eyebrow.

“Anything you want—that is, if you win.”

“I say we have a tournament.” Momo adds in. “I mean, it’s been a while since we’ve all been together lile this.”

Shut up, slut. God, Irene just wants to wrap her hands around her neck. She had to get you away from her as soon as possible.

“Sounds good to me.” You agree. “Is that cool with you?” You look back at her. You’re already hooked enough to have to ask permission when you had only known her for 24 hours.

“Does it matter if she is?” Johnny mentions.

“Johnny!” Chungha screeches. “Why are you being such a dick!”

“Don’t answer that.” Ten prompts, taking his friend by the hand and leading him outside.

“Anyways, that sounds like a great idea to me. Let’s roll!” Chungha yells in sorority fashion, and now all of you are going to where the fun is. There’s a million games to choose from, but it seems like you guys have a section you’re leading her to.

“As you can see, the games only get harder and harder from here.” You explain to her, placing a hand on her lower back.

“So like, kids shouldn’t be going this far.” She giggles.

“Exactly. Consider yourself privileged.” You wink.

“Just because I’m short and cute does not mean I’m a child.”

“You’re going to have to prove that to me.”

You’re definitely flirting with her now. And to make it even better, more fiesty than she had expected it to be.

“What are you doing after this?” She flirts back, placing her hand on your back now.

“You’re taking me to get coffee.”

“Velvets will be closed.” She pouts.

“I didn’t say you had to take me to Velvets. They sell hazelnut coffee everywhere.”

“You really think you can beat me, can’t you?”

“No. I know I can.”

And you did. You beat the clean breaks off of her in every single thing. The whole tournament went to hell as you and Irene were completely in your own world. You ran from game to game like children.

You weren’t rude enough to not say goodbye, but it was quick. You knew exactly what was going to happen after tonight, and you needed it. It had been too long.

“You’re not coming over?” Is the last thing you hear right before you and Irene head out. It’s Momo again, and her eyes are sad as she seems to know exactly what’s going on. “We haven’t had the big sleepover in so long, and I cleaned my house.”

Irene is reading you like the open book you are, and you’re fighting it. You haven’t seen your friends in a while, and you want their attention. You love the fact that they miss you, and you miss them even more, but you don’t crave them like you’re craving her right now.

“I promise next weekend.” You try to plead.

“But I got drinks.”

“A promise is a promise.” Now your pinky is out. The way Momo seemingly gives up on her complaining shows that your promises held weight. She connects her pinky with yours, before lightly caressing your knuckles with her thumb. You don’t think anything if it, but Irene knows, and her eyes are burning holes into her skull.

As soon as the two of you reach the car, you’ve forgotten about the coffee.

With a slammed hand on the foggy window, Irene is in bliss.

“So much for that hazelnut coffee, huh?” She purrs, kissing you once more.

“You still owe me.” You giggle.

“You’re absolutely right.” She’s now crawling down your body, fully prepared to repay you for your victory. More like her victory. She had won, and it was easy. You were easy, and yet she still loved you. She would never let you go, and anybody who got in the way of you two being together forever will feel her wrath.

February 17, 2020 — 2:00PM

“Wait wait, so you’re telling me that I leave for two seconds, and Y/N and Irene are fucking?”

“Not just fucking—fucking dating.”

Johnny and Taeyong were catching up, just as brothers did. After being pulled out of the arcade by Ten, it had been decided that Johnny needed a break from his crew. There was clearly some animosity—rightfully so within the group, and a month break was much needed.

“I didn’t even know Y/N...”

“Exactly.” Taeyong finishes for him, taking an aggressive sip from his coffee. With the slam, some of it splattered on the table. He can’t help but think about how you would immediately clean it up as little things like that bothered you, if you were here that is.

“Well, how do you feel about it?”

“I don’t understand how this happened so quick. I mean, think about how long it took me and Y/N to start dating. We talked for what felt like years before you guys pushed us to make it official.”

“You mean pushed you.” Johnny corrects, sipping his Americano with shade.

“Whatever. I just don’t like it. I mean, this Irene girl just shows up, and takes Y/N away that quick? That quick?”

“I mean, she is fine as hell. Are you saying you wouldn’t be down for that?”

“Can you not be gross for like two seconds?” Taeyong fumes.

“Shh.” The congregation of the library says in unison, causing him to throw his head down in shame.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Month of meditation actually did something I can assure you.”

“I want to look into her.”

“As in, like stalk her? Do you really think you’ll find anything?”

“I don’t want to, but this all happened too coincidentally. I know you think I’m crazy,” a nervous habit formed as a little boy, Taeyong is scratching his elbow like a manic. His rash has appeared, and rash equaled bad news.

“Well, you know I’m on your side. You might be stupid and crazy, but as your best friend it’s my job to make sure you don’t do it alone.”

They weren’t alone, even when they thought they had found a secluded area. She was there, disguised as a typical college girl. She sported a bob that made her look extremely basic, and her ears heard every drip of that conversation. Of course, being the idiots that they were, a bathroom break included them leaving all their belongings on the table.

February 21, 2020 — 12:00AM

“Do I know you?” The blonde girl says in a low voice. She’s scared as she approaches her vehicle. She worked the late shift tonight, and deep down she knew it was a horrible idea, especially when her boyfriend was too drunk to come and get her.

“You don’t need the extra money—I got you, babe.”

But she ignored him.

“No, but I know you.”

“Did my boyfriend sleep with you? Because if you want revenge, I’m not the one you need to be speaking to.”

“What would make you think that?”

“Past trauma.”

“So he’s cheated before.”

“No, past trauma.” She doesn’t know why she’s entertaining this stranger. Maybe it’s because she’s so beautiful. You can’t help but to trust her, even in such a suspicious predicament. I mean, she was leaning on her fucking car like she pays the note. “Are you an addict or something? I barely have anything for myself, okay? Maybe next week.”

“You’re Johnny’s girlfriend, aren’t you?”

“I’m calling the police.”

But Irene snatches her phone from her, slamming it on the ground. The black gloves that cover her hands secure her non-existent finger prints, and the phone shatters.

“Literally what the fuck!” The blonde screams, but it doesn’t matter. They’re in a parking garage and there’s no one here to save her. She tries to run away, but Irene is just too quick. The knife that was behind her back connects to the back of her neck, and she haults.

“This is for your nosy fucking boyfriend, who believes that he can somehow find out about my past and make Y/N leave me. How foolish of him.” She chuckles, letting the blood trickle down her arm.

She’s crying and screaming, but as stated, it’s irrevlant. Irene 2 — Johnny 0.

February 18, 2020 — 9:00AM

“I just...I just can’t believe it. I told her not to work that stupid fucking shift.”

“It’s not your fault, Johnny.”

“Yes it is. If I wouldn’t have been drunk out of my ass, I could’ve saved her somehow—I don’t know. But now she’s gone. I loved her. I loved her so damn much and I was finally pulling it together because of her.”

The rest of you sit on the couch, struggling to find the proper words for such a tragedy. Johnny is sobbing into his hands now, while Ten is rubbing his back gently. Taeyong is off to the side staring into space. You’re familiar with this look. He was thinking heavily about something, but you obviously would never find out what it was. Chungha is sitting on your right, rocking back and forth. Her nails are chopping at her fingers—a clear sign of her fearfulness. Similar to Taeyong, Momo is silent. You expected her eyes to be on you in search of some answers, or silent suspicions, but she refuses.

Finally, Irene is beside you to the left. You didn’t know Johnny’s lover that well, but you knew she was a decent girl. She didn’t deserve this, and you couldn’t even imagine what would it would feel like to lose someone you loved. Anyone sitting in this room. Her frail hand is locked on your elbow while her thumb is trying to soothe you.

“I’m so sorry.” She whispers. Her lips find your shoulder in something sweet and comforting. “Who would do something like this? Did she have an ex boyfriend?”

It takes a minute for Johnny to find a response.

“She did tell me about some guy who began to get a little possessive, so she broke it off. But she never mentioned him coming back.”

“Maybe it was him.” Irene says quietly. You can tell she’s trying not to say too much, as she hadn’t been hanging with the crew for too long. You’re grateful that she’s here for you.

“Let’s just let the police do their job.” Momo finally speaks, standing up from the loveseat she sat on alone. Something is wrong with her, but you’d have to figure that out later.

“Let’s order some food.” You decide, standing up as well. “I know you might now want to eat right now, but it’ll clear you head even if just a little bit. We are all under a lot of stress right now.”

“I agree, babe.” Irene commends, smiling at you sadly.

“Alright.” Johnny sighs. He also rises, but he goes straight into the back of his apartment instead. None of you were worried about him hurting himself. You knew he needed time to let his emotions out, as he was constantly trying to be society’s definition of a man.

Your phone vibrates, and it’s Irene who’s hitting you up.

I think you should check on Momo. Was she friends with her? She just seems really upset and I know how close you two are.

You have to contain the smile that wants to come out for the sake of the situation, but she was so perfect. She didn’t get jealous about anything. And she was so in love with you. It had been too long since you could confidently admit that this wasn’t a one-sided situation.

Your feet are approaching the kitchen softly, trying not to make such a scene. Momo is leaned over the counter at first, but when she sees you she tries to straighten up.

“Hey.” She whispers, preparing for eavesdropping.

“Hey.” You say back.

Why was this so awkward? It was never like this before.

“I just wanted to check on you.”

“I’m fine.”

Which means she’s not. You see her observing your current outfit—yoga pants with a shirt she had bought you years ago covering your body.

“Do you want to talk later?” You offer, putting a tiny smirk on your face remembering that usually made her feel better.

“I think that would be good, actually. I don’t know if we’ll have the time, but maybe when everyone’s asleep?”

“The best thing I’ve heard all day.” You open your arms out, and you know she won’t deny you. She lets out what seems to be all the stress from her week as she lets you engulf her. It had been so long since the two of you were close like this. On your nights where you couldn’t sleep from past thoughts, it was Momo who would come over and hold you until you could.

“I’ve missed you.” She mumbles into your shoulder. “So much.”

“I missed you too. I’m sorry I haven’t been exactly here as much.”

“Irene...I know.” She pulls away at the mention of her name, and it’s odd timing. “Let me just ask you something— as one of your best friends?”

“Go ahead.”

“Don’t you think the two of you are moving a little fast? I mean, we saw the girl for the first time a month ago, and now you’re all committed and in love with her. I’m just concerned.”

She made several points. It wasn’t that you made people wait for you in the past. This whole scenario was just too quick, especially since you had just gotten out of a relationship not too long ago.

“Are you insinuating that I’m not over Taeyong?”

“No.” She’s confident in her answer. “I don’t want you to be with him anyway. He cheated on and is a fat jerk.”

You snort at her last two words, and she’s punching your shoulder lightly even though she’s laughing as well.

“You’re so negative minded.”

“Continue.” You breath out, covering your mouth.

“I just feel like—

The door flies open, revealing Irene on the other side. “Sorry to interrupt, but have you ordered the pizza yet? We’re all starving.”

In reality, she wasn’t in the mood for food. Ten and Taeyong had went to the back to check on Johnny, and Chungha was using the bathroom. She had heard your whole exchange and to say she was pissed was an understatement. Why didn’t you try and defend her? You should have walked out of the room, and straight into her lap the minute the slut tried to question you on something she knew nothing about.

Both of you look like you’ve been caught, and she relishes in that. The fear that is in both of your eyes.

“Yeah I got you.”

That’s all you have to say to her? First, Momo was able to get you to open up that fast, when you hadn’t even revealed to her any details of you and Taeyong’s relationship.

“Or, you can order it if you want. Me and Y/N were just catching up I’m sorry to take her away.” The slut speaks. Her voice bleeds cockiness, even though her face is soft and sweet. She knows that Irene is mad. She’s enjoying it.

“Okay.” Is all Irene mumbles before going back to the living room.

“What was that about?” Momo is looking at you in confusion and fear. She had always had suspicions about Irene. She just seemed too nice—too willing to be everything you needed, when in reality she didn’t fit the role.

Momo had been in love with you since she met you. Your smile, the way you loved everyone no matter their differences, and your seemingly never ending talent of making her laugh. You were magical, but she was okay with being on the sideline. She had done it for two years straight while you were with Taeyong, and even during your nights of crying over she kept it to herself.

She knew keeping it to herself was only hurting her, but she was willing to be hurt for the sake of your happiness as you were happy with Taeyong. She could see how much the two of you loved eachother, and even after everything went down, she didn’t want to stop your journey of loving herself to have to figure out a way to reject her feelings nicely.

“Guess I’ll have to find out later.”

You seem frustrated as your leg is tapping up and down—even though you’re not sitting. Your breathing is getting faster and faster, and she knew this picture. This is exactly how you used to react when Taeyong made you upset, or neglected your feelings.

“Does she know what pizza you like?” She decides on, trying to pick your mood up with her bare hands as you were always able to do for her. She finds herself dancing slightly—her go to when she didn’t know what to do.

“I should probably go find out.” You smack her exposed stomach before walking back into the living room, where everyone has returned. Momo is behind you, and Irene is staring straight at the wall.

“The pizza should be here soon.” She whispers without removing her eyes.

“That’s goo—

By soon, even she didn’t seem to have meant this soon. The door is being knocked on quite aggressively, and all of you are looking at eachother trying to decide who’s going to answer.

“I’ll get it.” You step up. You were always the one in the group who would rise to the things you knew they were scared to do. Before you can even put your hand on the knob though, the banging is coming again, this time even louder. “I’m coming!” You spit full of attitude, and at the same time, everyone but Irene is rising to the occasion to stand by your side. You would always protect eachother—even from the pizza man. Johnny steps infront of you, opening the door himself.

It’s the police, and they don’t look happy.

“Are you Johnny Suh?” The chubby officer questions.

“Uh—yes.” He stutters. “The police said I wasn’t getting questioned until tomorrow.”

“Oh cut the crap.” The other offer says. “You’re under arrest for the murder of Cierra Valdez.” He rips the handcuffs from his belt, and he’s trying to turn Johnny around, but Johnny will never go down without a fight.

“What are you talking about!”

“Get off of him!” You yell, immediately trying to pull him in your direction. Everyone else follows, together more powerful than the police. Johnny is out of their grasp for just a few moments before a gun is pointed towards all of you.

“Drop your hands now!”

“You’re not gonna fucking shoot us!” Taeyong screams. It was the most passion Irene had heard come from his lips, and she was quite entertained. She was entertained by all of this. If you wouldn’t have been letting Momo flirt with you, she would’ve gotten up to shield you, but you didn’t, which is why she’s sitting on the couch in fake shock.

“Y/N get over here!” She yells. She doesn’t even have to wipe the sly smirk off her face as nobody is looking at her.

But you ignore her.

“I didn’t kill her!” Johnny is crying all over again, his whole face soaked in tears. “I loved her. Why would I kill her?”

“Anything you do or say will be held against you.” The Miranda rights are flowing out of the officer like he does this all the time, and now they’re dragging him out. His back is scratching on the cement.

“Y’all have to help me!” Johnny screeches. The whole apartment complex can hear what’s going on, and it’s killing him inside. He didn’t kill the love of his life. He didn’t. “I loved her.” He cried once more. “I fucking loved her!”

Continued

[silverlightqueen]

The Other Half - Part 2

badboy!Jimin x richgirl!reader ft. bts, nct 127, twice, red velvet, got7, blackpink and exo

Word Count: 15.1k+

THIS STARTS WHERE PART ONE FINISHED SO GO REFRESH YOURSELF ON HOW IT ENDS !!!

Summary - In Winchester, y/n has it all. Gorgeous and glamorous. A friendship group just as gorgeous and glamorous. Fantastic grades. A handsome boyfriend with a family just as successful as hers. A doting dad and a brother just as beautiful as she is. An amazing school, and an even more amazing house. As many cars and clothes and bags and shoes, and as much makeup and money she could ever ask for. But when Winchester Academy puts on an exchange programme with Burnley Tech School, a high school in an underprivileged area, two completely different worlds collide, and y/n has her hands full, practically overflowing, dealing with her exchange partner, bad boy Jimin with a whole lot of baggage…

DISCLAIMER - I do not know some of these idols very well and so the portrayal of their personalities and behaviour are not 100% accurate. They are also dramatised and changed for the purpose of this story. Please do not consider my portrayal of these idols as my opinions on them.

Warnings - TRIGGERING CONTENT !! talk of weight and dieting, toxic relationship, bad language, classism, discussion of rape, I guess kind of abuse within a relationship, discussion of death, discussion of sex, I think that’s it

a/n: part two is finally here ! lmk what y’all think and hmu if you wanna be on the taglist ! you can also ask my muse if you’d like !!

au masterlist

silverlightqueen masterlist

taglist💕: @sakurauchiha2018 @jesuislalune @haileykurayami @mayumioutloud @jiminsreads @rjsmochii @generousrunawaylove @jennafromhome @locharnathebanana @pjmcth @silverlightprincess​

When we re-join the group outside, they all stare at us amusedly. ‘You both left your bags. Oh, and your exchange partners,’ Dahyun says sarcastically, and I flip her off. ‘They aren’t little kids, they can look after themselves,’ Taeyong says as he goes to sit between Seulgi and Irene. ‘Sorry, Jimin,’ I say, perching on the arm of the bench he sits on. ‘It’s alright. Where did you go?’ he asks with a small grin, already knowing the answer. ‘He just wanted to talk to me about something,’ I reply, and his grin widens as he nods. ‘Hmm, okay. I’m surprised, princess. Wouldn’t have taken you for the type of girl to suck dick, especially not at school,’ he says under his breath, his crude language making me choke on air. ‘Because I’m not,’ I reply, and he nods indulgently. ‘Tell that to the marks on your knees,’ he says and, sure enough, my knees slightly scuffed and sore. I opt to not say anything, feeling heat rush to my face, and Jimin only smiles wider, immensely amused at the entire thing. At least one of us is. 

‘What do you think, y/n?’ Chaeyoung asks, and my attention is turned back to the group. ‘What’s this?’ I ask, pulling my skirt over my knees, Taeyong watching me do so with a cocky smirk. ‘I was thinking we should go on a night out this weekend, all of us, just to break the ice a bit, you know? We could invite Jen, Lisa, Rosie, Jisoo, Jinyoung and Chanyeol and their partners as well?’ Chaeyoung suggests, and I nod. ‘That sounds like a good idea. But if we definitely are, let me know far in advance. I’ll need to get an outfit,’ I say, the other girls nodding in agreement. ‘What kind of things do you guys wear on a night out? Where do you shop?’ Wendy asks, and we all exchange a look. ‘We don’t, um, really go shopping for a night out. We get our outfits made to make sure no one will be wearing the same as us. But we could all go shopping together, if you want?’ Mina says, the BTS students looking at us wide-eyed. ‘Wait, so every time you need a new outfit, you get someone in to make it?’ Jungkook asks. ‘Not every time. Usually just for a night out,’ Tzuyu says, almost sheepishly. ‘Wow, you guys are rich rich, huh?’ Xiumin says, all of us laughing.

‘Right, is everyone free on Saturday night?’ Chaeyoung asks, looking down at her phone as she taps away. We all give various forms of confirmations. ‘Good. I’m making a new group chat with all of us in it now. And none of you put it on mute, because we have to make sure no one misses out on any plans,’ she says. We all exchanged numbers and social medias earlier, so this group chat is gonna have all of the Winchester and BTS students in it. I wonder if it’ll die straight after the night out or actually last like our Winchester one has. I can’t remember the last time a day went by without someone sending something to the group chat. ‘Okay, I’ll send the restaurant, the bar and the club into the group chat then. And I get to choose because I’m the one who suggested it,’ Chaeyoung says, the boys groaning. We have different tastes in establishments, you could say. The boys say we choose boring places, but we just prefer to go somewhere classy. ‘Wait, you guys go to a restaurant, bar and club? Isn’t that really… never mind,’ Jin says, trailing off, and Sana prompts him to continue, ‘go on. What were you gonna say?’ ‘I was gonna ask if it was really expensive, but obviously, it doesn’t matter about the expense,’ he says.

‘Wait, so what do you guys do for a night out?’ Jihyo asks. ‘We usually have pre-drinks at a pub or someone’s house and then go straight to a club at, like, 11, or we have a party and then go out afterwards,’ Yoongi says. ‘Well, we could do that if you guys would prefer it,’ Mark says, and my heart melts at the way the boys seem to be trying to make the exchange students feel comfortable. I had been worried about the boys being insensitive, but obviously my concerns were unnecessary. ‘No, no, we wanna do a night out the way you guys do. We’re here to live like you do, right?’ the other Mark says, Nayeon grinning widely. ‘Trust me, you’ll all love our nights out. And Mark, I’ll get the tailor in tomorrow and we’ll get you a new outfit made too. You know, if you wanna live like we do,’ she says, her and her partner sharing a grin. ‘That sounds good, yeah,’ he says, Johnny watching the exchange with an unreadable expression. ‘Jae, what nights are you home this week? I’ll message Chaerin now,’ I say, referring to our stylist. ‘Um, we’re at home on Wednesday. We’re busy the other nights,’ Jaehyun replies. ‘We?’ I ask, my brother looking slightly sheepish. ‘Oh, well, we’ve got football on Tuesday and Friday, and the BTS boys are coming too. And then Thursday, I’m taking Jimin and Jungkook to the golf club with a few of the others,’ he says. ‘When was this decided?’ I ask, slightly annoyed that he’s making plans with my exchange partner without consulting me. ‘When you and Taeyong disappeared for your chat,’ Jaehyun says drily, and I have the grace to look slightly embarrassed.

‘Well, whatever. I’ll be crashing your trip to the golf club; you know I love it there. Oh, and father goes away on Friday morning, so that means I’ll have the house to myself on Friday night. Shall we have a girls’ night? Ooh, we could all get manicures, pedicures, facials and massages!’ I say, getting excited. I want more than anything to spoil the BTS kids while they’re here, knowing we’re privileged to be able to do what we do and wanting them to live that lifestyle, even if only for a while. ‘That sounds fun, but I don’t know if we’ll be able to afford that and the night out on Saturday,’ Joy says, almost sheepishly. ‘No, no, you don’t have to pay, for either. I’ll just hire the people for the night, and we’ll pay for Saturday. Don’t worry about it,’ I say. ‘No, I feel bad about you guys paying for everything,’ Namjoon says, and we all give protests.

‘At the end of the day, the fact is that our parents are loaded. This money has to go somewhere because it can’t go to the grave with us. We may as well spend it where we can, and there’s no point you guys wasting your money on something that our parents could fund with no trouble,’ Taeil says, carefully and tactfully, avoiding any words that might offend one of the BTS students. ‘Well, I guess when you put it like that,’ Taehyung says with a cheeky smile, all of us laughing. ‘I’ll make another group chat, just for the girls’, so we can plan this girls’ night,’ I say, the BTS girls smiling at me. ‘That’s not fair,’ Jungkook complains, ‘I wanna be on the girls’ group chat.’ ‘Why?’ Yeri asks. ‘This girls’ night sounds fun,’ he says, ‘I wanna come.’ ‘Well, we’re going to football, remember?’ Jaehyun reminds him, and he nods. When Jaehyun looks away, Jungkook makes eye contact with me and mouths the words, ‘help me’. I burst out laughing, everyone looking at me quizzically. ‘Oh, sorry,’ I say as Jungkook grins at me, ‘just thought of something funny.’

‘And then she said that I was too…’ Jaehyun trails off when he sees me approaching and I raise an eyebrow at him, an amused smile on my face. ‘Don’t let me interrupt you,’ I say, the other boys around him all laughing. ‘No, I’ll finish my story once you’re gone,’ he says, and I roll my eyes. ‘Whatever. I just came to ask if you were ready to go, Jimin,’ I say, the boy nodding and rising up from the bench. ‘What’s the rush? Let him stay a while, we’re getting to know each other,’ Taeyong says with a smile. ‘I would, but I’ve made plans for us. Surprise plans,’ I say when they all shoot me questioning looks. ‘Okay, well, have fun,’ Taeyong says, grinning as he taps his cheek. I press a gentle kiss to his soft skin, the boy not as tense as he was earlier, before he staked his claim on me in front of all the new kids. ‘Come on, Jimin. See you tomorrow, guys,’ I say. ‘See you,’ Jimin says, the rest of the group bidding us goodbye. ‘We’ll be home soon,’ Jaehyun says about him and Jungkook, and I nod. ‘Alright,’ I say, leading Jimin away and towards where the girls wait for us.

‘Jimin, I love this colour on you. I’ve been thinking of getting purple done soon,’ Dahyun says as we walk to the car park. ‘Thanks. I used a box dye,’ he says, all of us looking at him in surprise. ‘And it turned out that good?’ Sana asks. ‘Yeah, it took a couple boxes to get the right colour, but this is the end result,’ he says. ‘I always get it done by a stylist, but maybe I’ll have to try box dye next,’ Dahyun says, Jimin grinning. ‘It’s the way forward,’ he says. ‘You’ll have to let me know which brand you use,’ Dahyun says, Jimin nodding. ‘Yeah, of course, I’ll text it you later,’ he says as we reach the car park. I bid all the girls goodbye and Jimin and I get into the car, both of us throwing our bags into the back. I put the RnB playlist on again and pull out of the car park as quickly as I can, not wanting to get stuck behind the other girls. ‘How come the boys stay after school?’ Jimin asks, and I shrug. ‘I don’t really know. They treat it like a social club. They don’t usually head home ‘til an hour after school’s finished. Why they want to stay at school even longer, I don’t know,’ I say, Jimin nodding in agreement.

‘I don’t know if I should tell you this, but I don’t owe the guy any loyalty so I will, because I have a sense of decency,’ Jimin says, and I look over at him, intrigued. ‘Taeyong was talking about you, a little while before you came over. He was being a bit… vulgar,’ Jimin says, the word sounding unnatural from his mouth. ‘What do you mean?’ I ask. ‘He was, like, talking about what happened when you two disappeared, and he was speaking about you like you were an object, not his girlfriend, or whatever it is you are to him,’ he says, and I don’t say anything. ‘Obviously, I get that I’m a newcomer, so I don’t know what your guys’ relationship is like, but I know that if I heard any guy back home talking about his girl the way Taeyong was just talking about you, I’d throw hands,’ he says. I’ve never heard the expression ‘throw hands’ but I’m pretty sure I can infer. ‘Truth be told, I’m not surprised. The culture here is different. We might be a lot more modernised in some senses, but we’re also a lot more old-fashioned. Boys always talk about their girls like that; it’s standard. I appreciate you letting me know, but it’s nothing out of the norm,’ I say, Jimin raising an eyebrow at me. ‘Seriously? You don’t have an issue with him degrading you?’ Jimin asks. ‘I do, Jimin, but it doesn’t work like that. It doesn’t matter if I have an issue with it or not. I can’t pull him up on it, because he’ll get angry, and if he gets angry, our parents will get involved. It’ll cause tensions in our relationship, and we’ll end up getting married when we don’t get along. If I just leave it, then we stay in this honeymoon period forever,’ I say, and Jimin scoffs. ‘You should be able to pull him up on it, and he’d change his ways if he loved you,’ Jimin says, the subliminal message in his words obvious; ‘he doesn’t love you’. ‘Well, thank you for your concern, Jimin, but you’re new here, so you don’t get how it works, and I’d appreciate it if you kept your nose out of it,’ I say, my voice tense, and he lets out a humourless laugh. ‘Whatever,’ he says, both of us falling silent as I pull up to a Starbucks.

‘What drink do you get?’ I ask. ‘I don’t have any money on me,’ he says. ‘That’s not what I asked,’ I reply. ‘A caramel frappe,’ he says. ‘Cream or coffee?’ I ask. ‘Cream,’ he replies. ‘With or without whipped cream?’ ‘With.’ I pull up to the drive-through and wait for the worker to ask me for my order, leaning out of the window slightly. ‘Can I get two grande caramel frapps, one cream based with whipped cream and the other skinny, coffee based with almond milk, no whipped cream and only two pumps of caramel,’ I say, and when the barista’s finished taking my order, I drive towards the first window. ‘God, it’s like the ‘popular American high school girl’ is based on you,’ he says lightly, obviously trying to clear the air, and I laugh in response. ‘They wish they were me,’ I reply, getting a laugh from him in return. ‘Listen, y/n, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pried like that, and I’ll keep my nose out of your business,’ he says. ‘No, it’s okay, I understand where you were coming from. It’s just that-’ I begin to say, but the barista holds the card machine out and I’m distracted. I quickly grab my bag from the back, pulling out my purse and getting out my card. I hold it to the card machine and pull it away when it beeps. ‘Thank you,’ I say with a smile, the barista giving me a big smile in return.

I drive up to the next window, feeling Jimin’s eyes on me. ‘What?’ I ask. ‘Was that… is that a black card?’ he asks, and I hold up my card. ‘This? Yeah, it’s connected to my dad’s bank account,’ I say. ‘What does your dad do?’ he asks incredulously. ‘He, um, owns his own law firm,’ I say. ‘That’s so cool. I wanted to be a lawyer,’ he says, and I smile at him. ‘I could see you as a lawyer. Why not anymore?’ I ask. ‘You have to go to uni to be a lawyer, and I can’t exactly… afford it. And I gotta take over the bakery and stuff so… it’s whatever,’ he says, and my heart breaks. ‘That sucks, Jimin, I’m really sorry. If it makes it any better, I wanted to be a lawyer too, but I… I’m not really allowed,’ I say. ‘What do you mean?’ he asks. ‘Taeyong will be the one who goes out and gets a job, probably in law, and earns, and I’ll be at home, looking after the house and kids,’ I say, just before the barista leans out of the window, handing us a small paper bag along with our drinks. I hand Jimin his drink before peering into the bag, seeing a caramel shortcake and a number scrawled onto the packaging of it. I roll my eyes, offering him the bag, and he takes it. ‘Don’t you want it?’ he asks, and I shake my head. ‘Diet,’ I reply. ‘I meant the phone number, princess,’ he says, and I laugh. ‘No. A) I have a man – remember? – and B) it’s only because they saw the black card. Guaranteed,’ I say, putting my drink into the cup holder and driving off. ‘Do you always get free stuff?’ he asks. ‘Yeah, and it doesn’t make sense to me. Why give rich people stuff for free?’ I say, heading out of the Starbucks and onto the road.

‘Can we rewind just a bit? Did you say that you have to be a housewife while Taeyong earns?’ he asks, and I nod. ‘That’s the way it works around here,’ I say, and Jimin shakes his head. ‘That’s ridiculous,’ he says, and I shrug. ‘It’s also the reason why I can’t pull Taeyong up on anything. If he decides he doesn’t want to marry me, I’ll be screwed because it’s unlikely I’ll be able to get a job and provide for myself. That’s why I have to keep him sweet and pander to his every whim,’ I say, and Jimin shakes his head. ‘Why don’t you just be independent? Your dad seems supportive; he’d support you, emotionally and financially, if you went to uni after school, right? You should just live by yourself and become a lawyer,’ he says, and I smile sadly. ‘I’d become a social outcast, and I thrive on social interaction. Trust me, Jimin, I’ve thought of every possibility but what I’m doing now is what’s best for me. I’ll be Mrs Lee Taeyong for the rest of my life if it means I can be financially secure and safe and… content,’ I say, and Jimin sighs. ‘I might have it tough, but I guess you do too. I’m sorry you’re in this situation, y/n,’ he says. ‘Don’t be silly, my problems are nothing compared to yours. You can’t even go to uni to follow your dreams,’ I say, and Jimin laughs. ‘Not like you can either though,’ he says, and I shrug. ‘C'est la vie, mon ami,’ I reply, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘That’s life, my love,’ I translate, and he nods in understanding.

He opens his mouth to speak but before he can, a phone starts ringing. ‘Is that your phone?’ he asks, and I shake my head. ‘My phone’s connected to the car, so it would ring through the speakers,’ I say. ‘Well, it’s not mine,’ he says, holding his up in his hand, and I frown. ‘Have I picked up Tae’s or something by accident?’ I think aloud. ‘Oh, my God!’ Jimin suddenly exclaims, unintelligibly muttering to himself as he reaches into the back and grabs his bag, the ringing coming from inside it. He pulls out the phone, an old iPhone from years ago, and rejects the call, putting it away. ‘Who’s is that?’ I ask. ‘It’s, um… it’s mine,’ he says, and I give him a confused look. ‘You have… two phones?’ I ask, and he nods. ‘This one’s my main phone, and the other one… it’s my old one; it has all my pictures on it,’ he says, and I give him a confused look. ‘So who was calling it?’ I ask, and he shrugs. ‘Probably just a call centre,’ he says, and I nod. I’m still confused, and I don’t quite believe him, but I won’t pry. I don’t understand why he’d have another phone and I can’t come up with another reasonable explanation other than his pictures, so I leave the matter.

‘What were you gonna say?’ I ask. ‘I was gonna say that I don’t agree with things like that. ‘That’s life’ and ‘life’s not fair’. I see life as being what you make it. I know I can’t achieve what I want to, but there’s no point being bitter about it. So I make life better for myself, try to have a positive outlook on the life that I will have to lead. One day, I’ll get married and have kids and run the bakery. Yes, that’s a simple life, but I’ll be… what’s the word you used again? Um… content. Not exactly happy, but content,’ he says, and I nod. ‘And I guess I’m the same. I am positive about my future. Me and Taeyong may have our issues, but I still love him, and he loves me. We’ll move in to a beautiful house together when we finish school, probably get married while he’s still at university or law school or whatever and have an amazing wedding, and then we’ll have kids and I’ll be the ‘lady of the house’ while he goes out and earns. Don’t you think there’s something fun about your life being a permanent weekend? I’ll take the kids out all the time, have the girls and their kids over, or all go out on day trips together, and then have date nights or family nights when Tae gets home. Again, it’s a simple life, but I’ll be content,’ I say, and he smiles. ‘You’re right. Our lives will be simple but we’ll both be content,’ he says, and I smile back at him as we pull up to the house.

As I pull up on the driveway, Changwoo appears to put the car away. We both climb out, drinks in hand, and Changwoo takes the keys from me. ‘Good day at school, miss, sir?’ he asks us both. ‘Yeah, it was good, thank you,’ Jimin replies, seemingly surprised at being called sir. ‘Amazing, Changwoo. I got my English results back from that test last week; I got an A!’ I exclaim, and Changwoo grins. ‘As expected from someone as smart as yourself, miss. Well done,’ he says. ‘Thank you. How was your day, Changwoo?’ I ask. ‘Great, thank you, miss. Your father had to make a few trips, so I got to drive him around in the Bentley,’ he says, and I grin. ‘You do love the Bentley. Is father home now?’ I ask, and he shakes his head. ‘He’s at the firm, miss, there was some sort of emergency. I expect it’ll be another late night,’ he says, and I sigh. ‘As usual. Well, thank you, anyway. I’ll see you later, Changwoo,’ I say, the man bowing his head before Jimin and I head up to the house. ‘You’ve got a good relationship with your staff, huh?’ he asks as I push open the double doors, and I nod. ‘They basically raised me,’ I begin, but get distracted with the new flower display in the foyer.

‘Oh, my God, they brought in white orchids this week!’ I exclaim, deeply inhaling the floral scent. ‘New flowers every week?’ Jimin asks with a raised eyebrow, and I nod sheepishly. ‘I get them ordered in,’ I say, and he pulls a fake shocked face. ‘No way! I’d have thought Jaehyun was the one who has them ordered in if you hadn’t cleared that up,’ he says, and I stick my tongue out at him, walking over to the centre table where a display sits proudly. ‘I love flowers. Mum does as well. Well, she did. She took me, every week, to the flower shop to pick out a new arrangement. After she died, I used to carry on the tradition and pick out new flowers, but I started to get too busy, so I got the staff to order it in. Mum always smells like flowers too. And then the whole house smelled like flowers when she died. I like to think her spirit spread out into the house and she still wanders here, making the place smell like flowers,’ I say, talking without even thinking, and then look over at Jimin embarrassedly. ‘Obviously, I know it’s not really her spirit-’ ‘No, don’t. I think that’s really nice. And you’re right. If her spirit is gonna be anywhere, it’d be here. In the house she lived in with her husband, her son and her daughter who still fills the house up with flowers for her. Of course she’s here,’ he says softly, and I tear up. ‘I never thought of it like that,’ I say, and he smiles at me gently. ‘Well, there you go. She stays here because you make it smell like flowers, and you fill it up with flowers because it smells like her. It’s beautiful,’ he says, and I nod, agreeing. A tear spills out onto my cheek and, seemingly on reflex, he lifts his hand to wipe it away, my eyes locked with his chocolate brown ones. Almost as though his mind catches up with his actions, he jerks his hand away from my face suddenly, both of us flinching, and he looks away from me.

‘Anyway,’ I say, looking away from him, ‘let’s go get changed and then I’ll give you a tour of the place.’ We head up the staircase, and head towards where our rooms are. ‘I’m gonna just change into my comfies, you do the same if you want? Just knock on my door when you’re done,’ I say, and he nods, heading into his room. I practically run into my room, knowing he’ll end up getting changed so much quicker than I will. I strip off my uniform, going into my wardrobe and looking for what to wear. I decide on a pair of black cycling shorts (they’re my guilty pleasure; I’d never wear them in public – where a gossip magazine can take a picture of me – or around my judgy friends, but I practically live in them when I’m at home) and a black Balenciaga t-shirt that I tie into a knot, exposing a little strip of my stomach. I worked hard for this body, might as well show it off, you know? Jimin knocks at the door then, and I go to open it. He’s dressed in his Puma sweatpants again, this time with a black Nike hoodie, and he’s wearing white Nike socks on his feet (thankfully a little strip of his leg is visible as he hasn’t pulled them up; it’s literally a crime if people pull up their socks underneath sweatpants). ‘I’ve just gotta put socks on, come in for a second,’ I say, moving to the side. He looks around at my room, and I know what he’s thinking, slightly embarrassed. My room is ridiculously lavish; grey, white, black and pink, (faux) fur and velvet everywhere, a walk-in wardrobe that’s bursting at the seams with clothes, makeup spilling out of the drawers of my vanity with its light-up mirror. I go into my wardrobe, looking for my favourite black fluffy socks, custom designed by Rob Kardashian for my 18th birthday.

When I finally find them and go back into my room, Jimin’s stood at the wall that’s covered edge to edge with photos. Me with my friends, various celebrities I’ve met over the years, my family, our staff, Taeyong, dad, Jaehyun, mum. At parties, nights out, nights in, school, the golf club, the beach, the shopping centre, on birthdays and anniversaries and Christmas and Halloween and New Years and Valentine’s Day. I see Jimin lift up a hand, and expect him to point out the picture of me with the Kardashian children, Anna Wintour maybe, or Sasha Obama, possibly with Oprah, or the one with Kris Jenner. But he points at my favourite one on the wall. The picture that was taken a few days before mum died; we were just having a family day in. Dad was behind the camera and we were sat on the sofa with mum, seven-year-old Jaehyun and I on either side of her. We’re all smiling widely at the camera, all of us in matching Christmas pyjamas, something I remember Jaehyun not being too happy about. I remember everything from inside that picture, the way mum smelt, the way we’d had to beg Jaehyun to wear the pyjamas, the way dad had taken so many photos to get one without someone’s eyes closed or one that wasn’t blurry, the way mum had gripped onto Jaehyun and I so hard, as though she was desperate not to let us go.

‘That’s your mum?’ he asks, and I nod. ‘You look like her. A lot, actually. She’s a beautiful woman,’ he says, and I smile at him. ‘Thank you. She is beautiful, isn’t she? Or she was, anyway,’ I say. ‘No, talk about her in the present tense. She’s still here. As long as you and your brother and your dad live, she lives on with you. And I’m sure your kids will know about her, right? So she’ll live on through them too. As long as you remember someone, you never really lose them. They’re never really dead,’ he says, and again, my eyes have teared up at how touching his words are. I turn to look at him, but he doesn’t look back at me, eyes still fixed on the photo. ‘Have you ever lost anyone?’ I ask him, and he sighs, still not looking at me. ‘I… I nearly lost my mum. She had cancer, and it wasn’t terminal, but it did nearly kill her. I really thought I lost her. I used to be… not a bad son, but not a great one either. I was never really grateful for my parents and everything they did for me, I hated having to work in the bakery, I hated having to look after my brother, and I used to get in a lot of trouble. At school, and outside of school. Now, not a day goes by that I don’t tell mum I love her, that I don’t tell my dad and my brother the same too. I changed my life. I worked at the bakery all the time and I started to love it, because I could spend time with my parents. I loved looking after my brother, because it wasn’t long until we were spending time together rather than me looking after him; we were, like, best friends. I get in trouble a lot less, but old habits die hard, so I can’t help but get in a little trouble from time to time. But after nearly losing her, it put everything into perspective. You realise there’s more to life, you know? I remember saying to my dad that I was scared of losing her and – this was when we thought she was definitely going to die – he said to me what I said to you; as long as you remember someone, you never really lose them,’ he says, and without even thinking about it, I clasp one of his hands in mine. It’s warm and soft, and his fingers curl around mine in response, my heart jumping slightly.

‘I’m sorry that you had to go through that; I hope I can meet your mum one day,’ I say, and he finally turns to look at me, a small smile on his face and a tear in his eye, threatening to spill down his cheek. ‘I hope so too. And I’m sorry your mum died. I just know she’s an amazing person, and it would’ve been nice to meet her,’ he says, and I grin. ‘She is an amazing person. I’ll tell you all about her. But another time. Let me show you around the house,’ I say, and he nods with a smile. ‘Let’s do it.’

I let go of his hand and pick up my phone from the bed, both of us heading out of my room. ‘Okay, we’ll go this way,’ I say, leading him down the corridor, away from the staircase. I show him the home cinema, the music room (that nobody uses and is pretty much there for decoration), and my other wardrobe where the rest of my clothes and accessories are (this one’s two stories and about the size of an Olympic swimming pool). Then I take him downstairs and show him where the staff quarters are, before I show him the games room, the indoor pool, the library (one of my favourite rooms in the house) and the panic room. Then I take him outside, behind the house, and show him the outdoor pool, the football pitch, the basketball court, the tennis courts, the golf course, the greenhouse and the patio where I host garden parties during the summer. Then I bring him back inside and show him the three living rooms, the ballroom, the dining room and the various bathrooms around our house. ‘There we go. That is our house,’ I say as we reach the foyer, stopping by the table where the bouquet of flowers sits. ‘It’s amazing. I mean, who even has a ballroom?’ he asks, and I wince. ‘Honestly, I don’t know. I don’t think we’ve ever actually used it for its purpose. Maybe I should throw a big ball one day. On your guys’ last day!’ I exclaim, and Jimin laughs. ‘I’m not sure if we’re the right crowd for you to host a ball in honour of us,’ he says, and I frown. ‘Balls are for everyone, regardless of where they’re from, and how wealthy their parents are,’ I say pointedly, and he grins. ‘If you say so,’ he says, and I shake my head. ‘Okay, so what’s this big surprise you have planned?’ he asks, and I grin. ‘It’s not really that big of a deal, so don’t get your hopes up, okay?’ I say, and he nods. ‘Come on, then,’ I say, gently holding onto his wrist and leading him through into the kitchen. It’s been set up for us by Eunha, different ingredients and apparatus practically covering the island, and Jimin’s eyes widen.

‘What’s all this for?’ he asks, and I grin, picking up the two aprons sat on the counter, throwing one to him. ‘You are going to teach me how to bake something, because you have baking experience,’ I say, and he smiles at me, both of us putting our aprons on. I try to tie mine myself and he laughs. ‘Let me do it, princess,’ he says, and I turn to face away from him. I feel him take the straps into his hands and knot them, pulling them tight, before he skilfully ties it into a bow, his fingers gently grazing the strip of my exposed back, and I try not to shudder as a little shock runs through me. ‘Tight enough?’ he asks, and I nod, turning back to face him. ‘Shall I do yours?’ I ask, and he nods, turning away from me. I tie it for him and then he turns back to face me, grinning. ‘What shall we bake?’ he asks, and I shrug. ‘You tell me, baker boy, you’re the expert here. What’s your bakery’s speciality?’ I ask him, and he thinks for a moment. ‘Um, the hotteok is pretty popular. And the bungeoppang,’ he says, and I nod. ‘Shall we make both? They won’t take too long, right?’ I ask, and he nods. ‘It should take like an hour max,’ he says, and I smile. ‘Perfect! Let’s get baking!’

We start by Jimin picking out the ingredients and kitchenware we need, moving everything else to the side and out of our way, whilst I choose a playlist, ultimately settling on a hip-hop and RnB one. Then we begin making separate doughs for the hotteok, Jimin talking me through step-by-step. His seems to look better than mine, which I’m slightly jealous about, but I guess the years of experience he has have paid off, making him a great baker. We then put it to ‘ferment’ (which sounds gross but apparently, it’s just means that it’ll double in size – who knew?) and start on the bungeoppang. We mix the batter and then pour it into the mould. Jimin says to make some with the usual red bean paste, and some with Nutella because they taste really nice, so we do so, working as a team; he pours in the batter, I put the filling, and then he puts the rest of the batter onto the top, our method quite successful. Our bungeoppang turns out really well, and we set them to cool before getting out the ‘fermented’ hotteok dough. We split up the dough into pancake sized pieces before cooking them in a pan until they’re golden brown. We set those to cool too, the final results looking amazing, and the room smells great too.

Jimin sighs contentedly, and I look at him as he leans against the counter. ‘You’ve got flour on your nose. And cheek. And forehead,’ he says amusedly, reaching over to brush it off. ‘Thanks,’ I say, laughing, once he’s done, and he smiles. ‘It’s fine. My mum’s the same; whenever she bakes, more of the ingredients end up on her than they do in the food,’ he says, a wistful smile on his face, and my heart goes out to him; he must miss his mum, his family, his home a lot. He takes a deep breath in, eyes closed, before slowly breathing out, a soft smile on his face. ‘It smells like home,’ he says gently, and I grin. ‘I thought it might,’ I say, glad that my idea worked, and he looks at me, surprised. ‘Wait… don’t tell me you thought we should bake so that it would smell like my home?’ he says, and I nod. ‘I know you must be missing home already – I know that I would be – so I thought it’d be a nice way to bring your home to you,’ I say shyly, and he smiles a wide, genuine smile, eyes disappearing behind their lids. ‘Thank you, y/n, that’s really thoughtful. I appreciate it a lot,’ he says, and I smile, feeling blood rushing to my cheeks. ‘It’s the least I could do. And anyway, your surprise isn’t over yet. I’ve got something else planned… but I wanna try these first,’ I say, looking over at our baking, and he laughs.  

‘We’ll wait a little while then, yeah?’ he suggests, and I nod, watching as he takes a seat at the breakfast bar. ‘You want something to drink?’ I ask him, and he nods. ‘Just water, please,’ he says, and I nod, getting out two glasses and filling them up with water from the fridge. I hand him one of the glasses, getting a straw out for myself, and offer him one. He shakes his head amusedly as I sip from my water with the straw, not wanting to ruin my lipstick. We both go on our phones for a little while, scrolling through social media, and then a message from Chaeyoung comes through on a new group chat. ‘Ooh, she made it,’ I say, both of us opening the message straight away. It’s a long message, including the bookings she’s made for the restaurant, bar and club, and what times the bookings are for, bullet points and all. She’s booked an Italian restaurant called Bella Vita for 8 until 10, then a bar that I love called Midnight Violet (they serve all these really cool drinks – some of them are on fire, or have smoke coming out of them, or they’re glow-in-the-dark) from 10.15 until 11.30, and then a booth in the RnB room at our favourite club, Nova, from 12 until closing time, 5.

‘We’re gonna be out from 8 ‘til 5?’ Jimin asks, and I nod with a grin. ‘That’s nothing. Sometimes we go for a night out a little further away, about forty minutes from here, and there’s club there called Sunrise that opens at 4am and closes at 10am. Sometimes we’ll go there after the first club and stay out ‘til the late hours of the morning,’ I say, and his mouth drops open. ‘Wow, you guys really are… hardcore,’ he says, and I nod. ‘You don’t know the half of it. But it’ll be a great night out. Nova’s a really good club too; there’s loads of different rooms for every music taste; there’s a pop one, a RnB one, a hip-hop one, a techno one. You guys will love it, trust me,’ I say, and he grins. ‘Sounds good. But, in Chaeyoung’s… itinerary, she hasn’t put anything about home pre-drinks and post-club-kebabs. Please don’t tell me you guys don’t do either of those things,’ he says, and I bite my lip. ‘Um, we don’t. But we can introduce them! We can do home pre-drinks all together, get taxis to the restaurant, and then stop for kebabs on the way home from the club! Dad’s away this weekend, so I’m sure we could host pre-drinks here. Oh, my God, everyone could stay over at ours for the night!’ I say, starting to get excited. ‘Okay, okay, princess, before you get too excited, why don’t you put it on the group chat and see what everyone says?’ Jimin suggests, just as Jaehyun and Jungkook enter the room.

‘Put what on the group chat?’ Jaehyun asks. ‘Mmm, it smells so good in here. It smells like… like…’ Jungkook says, sniffing the air intently to try and work out why he recognises the smell. ‘Like my house?’ Jimin prompts, and Jungkook takes another sniff before nodding. ‘Yeah, yeah it does. What did you guys bake?’ he asks, spotting the racks covered in tea towels on the other side of the room. ‘Hotteok and bungeoppang,’ Jimin grins, and Jungkook’s mouth falls open. ‘Your mum’s recipe?’ he asks, and Jimin nods. ‘Oh, my God, can I have some? Please, y/n, pretty please?’ he begs me, and I’m taken aback at him asking me. ‘Yeah, of course, they should be cool enough now, right, Jimin?’ I ask, and Jimin nods, Jungkook taking that as a cue to pounce and stuff an entire hotteok in his mouth. ‘Ew,’ I say before I’m able to stop myself, all three of the boys laughing, Jungkook having to hold a hand over his mouth to stop the food from coming out, and I can’t stop myself from laughing with them. We all try some of the food, both the hotteok and bungeoppang, and it tastes amazing. ‘Mmm, this tastes amazing, Jimin,’ I say for the sixth time, and Jimin laughs. ‘You made it too, y/n,’ he says, and I shake my head. ‘It’s your recipe and expertise and so, the credit goes to you,’ I say, and he shakes his head. ‘Both of us,’ he says, and I roll my eyes with an amused smile.

‘Anyway, what were you telling y/n to put on the group chat, Jimin?’ Jaehyun asks. ‘Oh, she had an idea to have everyone sleep over here this weekend after the night out, and she was making all these different plans, and I said to put it on the group chat and see what they all say before getting carried away,’ Jimin explains. ‘She has a habit of that,’ Jaehyun says, and I scowl. ‘No, I don’t.’ ‘You do. But it’s fine. It’s cute. The flowers are nice this week, aren’t they?’ Jaehyun says, changing the subject, and I nod. ‘They smell amazing. I wanna find a perfume like it,’ I say. ‘Get one made. Ooh, that can be your next birthday present from me, so I’ll get it done,’ he says, and I pout. ‘No, birthday presents are supposed to be surprises, Jae, think of something else,’ I say, and he rolls his eyes. ‘Well, whatever. That’s a good idea about having everyone over, you should put it on the group chat. We could use the bigger living room, get loads of mattresses and airbeds put down so we can all sleep in the same room,’ he says, and I nod. ‘Oh, but…’ I begin, but trail off, Jaehyun raising an eyebrow. ‘Me and Mina will be in the living room with everyone else, so you and Taeyong should be too. You know dad doesn’t like it when you two share a room,’ Jaehyun says, and I feel blood rushing to my cheeks again. ‘No, I… well, you’ll have to have that conversation with Taeyong then,’ I sigh, and Jaehyun raises an eyebrow.

‘I have to tell your man that you two can’t share a room?’ Jaehyun says. ‘Jae, you know it’s not that simple,’ I say, not wanting to get into it in front of Jimin and Jungkook. ‘I think it’s pretty simple, y/n, and I also think it’s pretty shitty that you’re scared to tell your man that you’re not gonna have sex with him,’ Jaehyun says. ‘Jae, shut up!’ I exclaim, knowing any of the staff or even our father could walk in at any moment. ‘Well, it’s true! What do you guys think?’ Jaehyun says, turning to Jimin and Jungkook, who both looking slightly awkward and embarrassed. ‘Jaehyun, you know it’s not like that,’ I say before they can answer, and he scoffs. ‘y/n, what I know is that it is exactly like that! You want me to tell him because you’re scared to refuse him, which literally means that he is having non-consensual sex with you, which is rape! But you won’t tell me, and you won’t tell dad, and you won’t tell anyone, because you’re scared of something and I don’t know what it is because you don’t speak to me! I bet you didn’t wanna suck him off at school today, but he was angry at you because of Jimin, and you don’t like it when he’s angry with you, so you did it. I can’t even imagine how many times something like that has happened to you!’ he says. ‘It’s not rape! I’m in a relationship with him!’ I exclaim, tears coming to my eyes, and Jaehyun scoffs. ‘Of course it’s rape. If you didn’t want to have sex but you do anyway, then it’s rape, you moron! But I can’t even say anything to him, because if I do, you’ll stick up for him like always, and I don’t know why! You don’t have to marry him, y/n!’ Jaehyun says. ‘I want to marry him! I love him! You’re making him sound like an abuser, and he’s not!’ I shout, the tears spilling down my cheeks, and Jaehyun laughs humourlessly. ‘When will you understand that I’m not saying this for no reason? I’m saying it because it’s what I see, because I’m worried about you, because you’re my sister and I love you, y/n!’ he shouts back. ‘I know that, but you don’t need to worry,’ I say defeatedly, another tear falling with every blink, and Jaehyun lets out another humourless laugh. ‘I don’t know if you’re just in denial, or completely delusional, but when you realise that what you and Taeyong have is not love and you’re better off without him, I’ll be waiting to help you. But until you realise that, y/n, until you realise that you and me are on the same side, and it’s not the side with him on it, there’s nothing I can do,’ he says, leaving the room without another word.

Jimin hands me a tissue and I take it embarrassedly, blotting away my tears gently. ‘Sorry… about all of that,’ I begin to say, but Jimin and Jungkook both wave it off. ‘It’s fine, don’t apologise. Are you okay?’ Jungkook says, and I nod. ‘I’m fine, I’m fine. Jaehyun’s just being dramatic,’ I say, both of them silent. ‘Do you agree with him?’ I ask them, and Jungkook looks to Jimin, the latter sighing. ‘Well, it depends, y/n. Did you want to do what happened earlier at school, or did you do it because you were scared to say no?’ Jimin asks. ‘He didn’t force me! And he repaid the favour, so it’s not like I didn’t get anything out of it,’ I say. ‘That’s not the question I asked you. Just because he didn’t force you, it doesn’t mean it was consensual, or you wanted it. Did you want it?’ he asks, and I hesitate. ‘Well, no, but I didn’t mind,’ I reply, and Jimin shakes his head. ‘It’s not about whether or not you mind. It’s that you didn’t want to do it, but you did it anyway because… well, I don’t know why. Whether it’s because you want to keep him happy, or whether it’s because you’re scared of him. How often do you… indulge him when you don’t really want to?’ he asks me. ‘I don’t know, like… 8 times out of 10,’ I say, both of their mouths falling open. ‘Oh, my God, y/n,’ Jungkook says, and I shake my head. ‘No, it sounds bad, but it’s really not,’ I say defensively, and they exchange a glance. ‘All I’m saying, y/n, is that if I had a girlfriend and I found out that 8 out of every 10 times we have sex, she doesn’t want to, my heart would be broken,’ Jimin says, and I fall silent.

‘Are you scared of him, y/n?’ Jungkook asks gently, and I don’t reply for a moment. ‘I’m not scared of him. I’m scared of what falling out with him would mean,’ I say, looking at Jimin, who nods, remembering our earlier conversation. I explain to Jungkook what I explained to Jimin earlier, the boy shaking his head in disgust at everything I say. ‘y/n, Jaehyun said it; you don’t have to marry him. Why are you forcing yourself to?’ Jungkook asks. ‘It’s more complicated than that. I do love him, and I do want to marry him, and he’s all I’ve ever known. If I left him… it’d be leaving everything comfortable, everything familiar. He is my home, as much as my family and friends are, as much as this house is,’ I say. ‘So, because you’re scared of the unknown, you give in to him to keep him sweet?’ Jungkook asks, and I nod. ‘I feel sorry for you, y/n, I really do. And I hope it gets to a point when the two of you love each other enough for you to refuse him without it affecting your relationship,’ Jungkook says, and I smile sadly. ‘Thank you, Jungkook, I appreciate that. One day, maybe,’ I say, both of them nodding.

‘Anyway, moving on from all that depressing sad stuff, I’ve still got another surprise for you, Jimin! And you and Jaehyun should come too, JK!’ I say excitedly. ‘Shall I go get Jaehyun then?’ he asks as I write on a little post-it note for father and the staff to help themselves to the food we made. ‘We’ll come up too. You can get changed into something more comfortable if you want,’ I say, wrapping some of the food up in a tissue and heading towards the door, the two of them following behind me. We go back up the stairs, chatting idly about school, and I knock on Jaehyun’s door when we reach it. He answers it a few moments later, still annoyed. ‘I’m sorry. I know you worry about me, and I promise to talk to you more and explain it all to you. And I brought you food,’ I say, handing him the tissue. ‘Whatever, idiot, you don’t need to apologise,’ he says gruffly, taking the food from me. ‘You know that surprise I planned for Jimin? Do you and JK wanna come too?’ I ask, Jaehyun looking to Jungkook who nods. ‘Yeah, we’ll come. You’re not dressing up, are you?’ he asks. ‘Nope, I’m wearing this. Casual,’ I say, and Jaehyun nods. ‘We’ll meet by the front door in 5?’ I suggest, Jaehyun nodding before retreating into his room, Jungkook doing the same. ‘Jimin, come with me. I’ve just gotta get a couple things,’ I say, the boy following me into my room.

‘Sit down, if you want,’ I say, the boy gently sitting on my bed as I head over to my vanity table, pressing the buttons in the wall to put some music on. I pull the hairslides out of my hair and brush through it before putting it up into a sleek ponytail, pulling out a few baby hairs or I’ll look like an egg. I put on some lip balm and change from my fluffy socks into a pair of black ankle socks, sliding on my black fluffy sliders. I quickly put some body lotion on my elbows and knees, before getting out a little backpack, a custom black Gucci one, and put in my lip balm, a brush, my phone and a portable charger, and my purse. ‘Let’s go,’ I say, heading to the door. ‘Don’t you need a jumper or jacket? It might be a bit colder now, right?’ he asks. ‘Um, I should be fine. I keep a hoodie of Taeyong’s in my car anyway, so I’ll just put that on,’ I say, Jimin nodding. We leave my room, and he grabs a pair of black and white Nike trainers from his room before we head down to the front door, Jungkook already there and waiting, playing some sort of game on his phone. His all black attire, a black Fila t-shirt and a pair of Puma sweatpants, black socks (thankfully showing a strip of his leg) and black Fenty creepers (of which I have a pair myself), accentuates his slim and muscly figure nicely. ‘Hmm, now, we’re just waiting for Jaehyun,’ I say, just as I hear footsteps coming down the stairs. ‘For once. Usually I’m waiting for you,’ Jaehyun says, coming to join us, dressed in a practically identical outfit to Jungkook’s, the brands slightly different. ‘Shall we all go in the same car?’ Jaehyun suggests, and I nod. ‘You drive,’ I say, and Jaehyun nods. We go out to his car, and I slide into the back. ‘I’ll sit in the back,’ Jungkook says, joining me as Jimin and Jaehyun get into the front.

‘Can I connect my phone, Jae?’ I ask, the boy just nodding as he zooms off the drive, and I do so, instantly putting on the playlist Jimin and I were listening to in the kitchen. ‘All you ever listen to is RnB, don’t you get bored?’ Jaehyun asks. ‘What else is there to listen to?’ I ask. ‘Loads. Pop. Rap. Hip-hop. Blues. Funk. Country. Electro. Techno,’ Jaehyun lists, and I laugh. ‘Or UK music’s good. Like bashment and grime and drill and afrobeats and stuff,’ Jungkook laughs, Jimin laughing along with him. Obviously there’s some kind of joke here, but it goes over mine and Jaehyun’s heads. ‘Grime? Drill? What?’ Jaehyun asks, Jungkook and Jimin looking at us incredulously. ‘It’s like… I don’t know. Like a mix of hip-hop, rap and urban. I was just joking, really. But it’s actually not that bad. You should put some on,’ Jungkook says, and I hold my phone out to him. He types something into Spotify, and then puts on a playlist, presumably one full of said ‘UK music’. A bass heavy beat begins, practically blasting out of the speakers, and both Jimin and Jungkook rap every word, the lyrics talking explicitly about money, drugs, and women’s bodies. Once the song finishes, Jungkook pauses the playlist, looking for our feedback. ‘It was good. I liked the beat and the flow. Not sure about the lyrics but… we move,’ I say, Jimin shooting me a grin. ‘I liked it too. Play some more,’ Jaehyun says, Jungkook playing the playlist, another song playing. The beat is similar, and so are the lyrics, but the song’s still good. We bop to the playlist, Jungkook and Jimin singing and rapping along as Jaehyun and I just listen.

‘Do you wanna stop for food? There’s a McDonalds up here on the left,’ Jaehyun says. ‘I don’t mind, whatever you guys wanna do,’ I say. ‘Um, I could eat,’ Jungkook says, Jimin agreeing, and Jaehyun pulls into the McDonalds drive thru. ‘What do you want?’ Jaehyun asks. ‘I’ll have a large 5 chicken select meal, with a coke please,’ Jimin says. ‘I’ll have a large Big Mac meal with a Sprite,’ Jungkook says. ‘Um, I’ll have a spicy chicken wrap,’ I say, all three of them turning to look at me. ‘y/n, cut it out. If you’re having a wrap, I’m getting you nuggets or fries too. What do you want?’ Jaehyun asks, and I sigh. ‘Jae, I’m fine with ju-’ ‘What do you want, y/n?’ ‘I’ll have the wrap with 6 nuggets,’ I say, and Jaehyun raises an eyebrow at me. ‘And a Diet Coke. No ice,’ I say, my brother grinning at me. He orders all the food, getting himself a large Chicken Legend meal with a Fanta, and pays with his black card, the conversation I had with Jimin earlier happening again with Jungkook now. We get our food through the second window, and they try to give us four free McFlurrys too, a number written on one of them.

‘The one with the number is for the girl, from my colleague,’ the server says. ‘Well, the girl is my sister, and she has a man, so tell your colleague thanks, but she’s good,’ Jaehyun says, as kindly as possible. ‘Oh, um, well, take the ice creams anyway,’ the server says. ‘We’re alright, thanks,’ Jaehyun says, giving them a tip before speeding off. ‘Damn, I thought it was a one-off earlier, but obviously not. Is this a regular thing for you, y/n?’ Jimin asks, and I nod tiredly, rolling my eyes. ‘It’s so annoying. It’s only because we’re rich,’ I say. ‘And because you’re pretty,’ Jaehyun says, and I scoff. ‘No,’ I reply. ‘Yes,’ all three of them say, and my eyes widen slightly, taken aback. ‘Wait, really?’ I ask, and Jungkook laughs. ‘Why else, y/n? If you were ugly and rich, they wouldn’t give you their numbers, but if you were poor and pretty, they still would. What’s the common denominator?’ Jungkook says. ‘I’m not sure that’s accurate,’ I say, and they all shake their heads. ‘Shut up and eat your nuggets,’ Jaehyun says, all of us laughing.

We arrive at the shopping centre around ten minutes later. The others have already finished eating, and I’m still on my nuggets as Jaehyun pulls up to the delivery entrance. The guy waves us through, recognising the car, and Jimin and Jungkook look around in confusion. ‘What are we doing? Where are we going?’ Jimin asks. ‘You’ll see in a minute,’ I say excitedly. We park up by the entrance where security stands, and we all get out of the car, drinks cups in hands. ‘Jaehyun, y/n, nice to see you again,’ one of the security guards says, shaking our hands. ‘Nice to see you too, Sihyuk. This is Jimin and this is Jungkook,’ Jaehyun says, the security guard shaking their hands too. ‘Let me take you up,’ Sihyuk says, leading us through the door. He takes us through cold corridors, almost like tunnels, with industrial wires and tubes everywhere, bright fluorescent hospital lighting in strips above us. ‘Are you taking us to be murdered?’ Jungkook jokes, all of us laughing. ‘We’re nearly there,’ I say, just as we near a door on the left of us. Sihyuk opens it for us, letting us through, and we step into a clean and classy room, crystal chandeliers streaming with mellow lights, marble pillars, cream sofas and fluffy cushions. The staff in there practically rush over, shaking all of our hands. ‘Ah, you brought guests,’ I hear a voice from behind me, turning to see Chaerin. She embraces Jaehyun and me before shaking hands with Jimin and Jungkook as my brother introduces them. ‘It’s nice to meet you both. Shall I do the speech?’ she asks, and I nod excitedly. ‘You’ve gotta make it authentic for them,’ I say, and she grins affectionately, rolling her eyes at me.

‘Welcome to our personal shopping experience. We’ll take your measurements and then we’ll bring clothes out for you, one-by-one. The models will be wearing them first, and then you can try them on if you like them. Jaehyun will go first, followed by Jimin, then Jungkook, and finally y/n. Do we have any questions, or can we begin?’ Chaerin says, and Jaehyun and I turn to look at the other two, both of them looking slightly overwhelmed as they nod. ‘Brilliant. y/n, Jaehyun, take your seats, and Jimin, Jungkook, we’ll take your measurements if you don’t mind,’ Chaerin says, four staff members with tape measures appearing behind her. I take a seat on one sofa, tucking my legs beneath me, as Jaehyun sprawls across the other, kicking his shoes off and putting his feet up on the armrest. I watch amusedly as the stylists take Jimin and Jungkook’s measurements, the two looking like deer caught in headlights. Jimin has to take off his jumper so they can take his chest and waist measurements accurately, and his t-shirt gets caught with his jumper as he pulls it over his head, exposing a flash of hard abs and a prominent v-line, the sight making my stomach turn. I look away almost instantly, meeting Jaehyun’s eyes, sparkling with amusement, and then look down at my lap, embarrassed at being caught.

Jimin and Jungkook come and join us a few moments later, Jimin coming to sit on the sofa with me as Jungkook sits on the other sofa with Jaehyun. ‘This is so cool. Is that how you guys always shop?’ Jungkook asks. ‘Yeah, it’s so that we can buy our clothes in peace without people approaching us because they recognise us, and also so we can get a look at the newest releases before they’re put out on shop floors,’ I explain. ‘I bet it costs a bomb,’ Jimin says drily. ‘Yeah, but trust me, it’s so worth it. Wait ‘til you guys see some of the stuff they bring out for us,’ Jaehyun says excitedly as I sip on my drink. ‘Is it all designer stuff?’ Jungkook asks almost embarrassedly. ‘Some of it. But it’s cool, we’ll cover the cost. Don’t even worry about it,’ I say, both of them looking like they want to argue, but they opt not to. The models start to come out wearing clothes for Jaehyun and we all point out items we think would suit him, ranging from tops, trousers and coats, to shoes, jewellery and bags, even socks and underwear. He then goes to try them on, and we choose what we like him in, and what we don’t. Jaehyun’s always been a guy with expensive taste, and so he ends up choosing many of the same brands he’s always worn; Prada, Supreme, Fendi, Givenchy, Balenciaga, Gucci and Alexander McQueen.

Then it’s Jimin’s turn, and he ends up mainly taking a liking to Chanel, Gucci, Saint Laurent, Louis Vuitton, Dior and Celine, his clothing choices tasteful and classy, lots of Chelsea boots, slim fit trousers, plain tops, and distinct jackets. He also chooses a lot Chanel, Louis Vuitton and Saint Laurent jewellery; earrings, necklaces, rings and bracelets that are delicate and feminine. I love the fact that he doesn’t care about which gender the pieces are aimed at, choosing clothes and accessories from both the male and female collections. When he tries them on, I have to actively keep my mouth shut, opting to just nod and smile, because I’m speechless. His figure is amazing, slim shoulders, even slimmer waist, mile long lean legs, hard muscle built up everywhere except for his face and ass (which is deliciously round and pert - it gives my ass a run for its money). He’s beautiful, the clothes making him look like a supermodel, his purple hair giving him such a unique look. Jaehyun and Jungkook both give me amused looks every time Jimin goes into the back to change, and I try to ignore them, just sipping on the complimentary glass of wine they’ve given me.

Then it’s Jungkook’s turn, and it’s clear to see that his style is definitely comfort first; mainly black, oversized and cosy clothes, occasionally opting for some tighter, more form-fitting pieces. The designers he chooses include Acne Studios, Fila, Nike, Adidas and Balenciaga, with a few Saint Laurent, Ralph Lauren and Gucci pieces too, amongst many others. When he tries them on, he either comes out looking like an e-boy – with cargo trousers and military boots, chains and harnesses galore – a college boy – with oversized sweaters and loose sweatpants, hats and trainers – or a supermodel – with skin-tight trousers, form-fitting tees and tops, and fashionable jackets. He also has several ear piercings, and chooses several pairs of earrings, studs, hoops and dangly, all of them silver.

And then it’s my turn. I choose practically every piece they bring out for me, not discriminating against a single designer. I choose dresses, tops, trousers, jeans, skirts, jackets, coats, co-ords, heels, boots, trainers, flats, sandals, all different kinds of bags, necklaces, bracelets, rings, earrings, arm bracelets, anklets, hairslides, headbands, scarves, hats, socks, underwear (not gonna lie, I felt my face heat up when the underwear models came out and I picked nearly every pair, all of them lacy, strappy and slightly risqué. Jaehyun, used to my hoe antics, doesn’t bat an eyelid, helping me to pick some out, but I don’t even dare to look at the other two, slightly embarrassed). It takes an age for me to try them all on, Jaehyun and Jungkook hyping me up and even choosing which outfit I should wear this Saturday (a Balmain velvet little black dress with silver embellishments on it), but Jimin does nothing more than what I did, smiling and nodding with a random cough thrown in every now and then. Either he couldn’t care less about which clothes I choose, or I’ve got more of an effect on him than I thought (which makes me awfully proud of myself).

Once I’ve changed back into my original clothes and re-joined the boys, Chaerin reappears after disappearing all night. I know from previous times that she’s in the back, processing which clothes we choose and getting them bagged up to be sent to our house before we get back. ‘Thank you, Chaerin, we loved it,’ I say, the boys murmuring their ‘thank you’s behind me. ‘You’re most welcome, my loves. Now, get on home, and don’t be strangers. Remember, if you need styling, I’m always available for my favourite twins, and any of their friends,’ she says warmly, hugging us all, the BTS boys included. We say another ‘thank you’ before we’re led back through the draughty industrial corridors out onto the car park. We all climb into Jaehyun’s car, and it isn’t until Jaehyun starts driving that conversation starts up. ‘I wanna just say, guys, that that was the most boujee thing I’ve ever done in my life, and I’m really grateful for it. Like, thank you so much for all those amazing new clothes,’ Jungkook says, my heart warming. ‘Oh, JK, it was nothing. Trust me, we’ll have you doing loads of different boujee things while you’re with us. But you’re welcome,’ I grin at the boy. ‘Yeah, guys, I wanna say thank you too. I’ve always… I’ve always wanted to change my style, but I’ve never been able to afford much more than the standard teen boy fashion. Being able to get all those clothes that I’ve been into for years is such a privilege. I’m really thankful,’ Jimin says sincerely, nearly bringing a tear to my eye. ‘It’s nothing, bro, we got you. Anything you want, let us know, we’ll get it for you. We’re spoiled brats, let us spoil you guys now,’ Jaehyun says, slapping Jimin’s thigh, a brotherly gesture, and Jimin grins at him. They’ve only been with us a day, and yet I feel like our bonds with them are already strong.

After around ten minutes of just listening to chill RnB (we’re too tired for grime right now), Jaehyun speaks; ‘hey, y/n, you remember that diner we used to go to all the time? Mum used to take us.’ ‘Yeah, I remember,’ I say, wondering where he’s going with this. ‘It’s about a minute from here. Do you guys wanna go? They do the best desserts there, and the milkshakes are beautiful,’ Jaehyun says. ‘Yeah, sure,’ Jimin says, Jungkook agreeing. ‘It’s so cool in there. Like an authentic American diner. It’s been a while since we went, to be fair, but from what I can remember, it’s amazing, so cute and retro,’ I say, just as we turn onto a familiar road, and I know that it’s near. Half a minute later, Jaehyun pulls into the car park of The Golden Spoon, and I practically leap out of the car, eager to go get my favourite strawberry milkshake. ‘Aren’t you cold, y/n?’ Jungkook asks me, and I realise then that yes, I am cold. ‘I’m fine,’ I say, and he raises an eyebrow at me as we head towards the entrance. ‘You so should’ve worn a jumper,’ Jimin says. ‘Yeah, but I told you I had one of Taeyong’s in my car. It’s just a shame that we went in Jae’s car,’ I say, Jimin shaking his head. He starts to pull off his sweater, exposing his muscles again, and hands it to me, leaving him in just a thin white t-shirt. ‘Are you sure? I bet you’re cold now,’ I say, and he laughs. ‘I don’t have my legs out as well,’ he says, and I take it embarrassedly, pulling it over my head. It smells amazing, like the same smell that was on the air when he first got into my car yesterday; a nice cologne, baked goods and something distinct I’ve never smelt before, something that must just be Jimin. We step into the diner, the smell of greasy food and baked goods hitting us like a tidal wave. The walls are painted baby blue, the floor checked black and white, and the booths and seats are all red, pictures of old cars and big groups of white people in the 50s hung up everywhere, making it seem authentic.

We slide into a booth, scanning the menus and a server instantly comes over to take our order. ‘I’ll have a chocolate milkshake please,’ Jaehyun says. ‘I’ll have a chocolate too please,’ Jimin says. ‘Can I have strawberry please?’ Jungkook asks, and then they all turn to me. ‘Um, how many calories are in the strawberry milkshakes?’ I ask, Jaehyun groaning, Jungkook and Jimin shaking their heads and the server looking taken aback. ‘I don’t know from the top of my head, but I can check for you,’ she begins, but Jaehyun waves her off. ‘It’s fine, she’ll have a strawberry as well please. Do we want any food?’ Jaehyun asks. ‘Can I have a slice of the, um, Sandy’s Chocolate Cake please?’ Jungkook says, the server writing it down. ‘I’ll have a chocolate fudge brownie with custard. And can I have that with an extra serving of custard please?’ Jaehyun asks, the server nodding with a blush, obviously finding my brother attractive (you’d have to be stupid not to). ‘I don’t want anything,’ I say, and Jimin looks at me. ‘I’m not really that hungry either, I was gonna ask if you wanted to go halves?’ Jimin suggests, and I nod. ‘Yeah, good idea, let’s do that. Do you like lemon? Because they do the most amazing lemon meringue pie here,’ I say, and Jimin grins. ‘We’ll have a slice of the lemon meringue pie please,’ he says, and I smile at the server who notes it down. ‘That’s it, thank you,’ Jaehyun says, the server smiling before going to the back to put our order through.

Gentle retro music plays through the restaurant, only two other booths occupied; one by a young lovestruck couple and the other by an old lady by herself. She’s sat by the jukebox, choosing the songs, and I watch as she roots around in her purse, obviously looking for money to put into the jukebox. ‘Jimin, come with me to choose a song?’ I ask, and he nods instantly, both of us sliding out of our side of the booth. We walk shoulder to shoulder over to the jukebox, and I put in a coin from my purse. ‘Hmm, I can’t choose a song, I’m too indecisive. Will you choose one for me?’ I say, directing the question to the lady, who smiles at me. She picks an Elvis song, and then I put more money in, and she chooses another song. We carry on going until an hour’s worth of music is queued up, and as we head back to the table, Jimin grins at me. ‘That was cute,’ he says. ‘What?’ I ask. ‘You putting money in for that old lady to choose her songs. It was cute,’ he says, and I smile shyly to myself, looking down at my feet. ‘Whatever,’ I mumble, Jimin laughing under his breath. ‘You’re cute, princess,’ he says, and I feel myself getting even more embarrassed, trying to hide it as I slide into the booth, sitting up against the window.

Our milkshakes come then, topped with mounds of whipped cream, strawberries on mine and Jungkook’s, and a chocolate wafer on Jaehyun and Jimin’s. I take a long sip, savouring the taste, before offering it to Jimin. ‘Wanna try some?’ I say, and he nods, taking the straw into his mouth and taking a small sip. ‘Oh, my God, that tastes amazing,’ he says, and I grin. ‘Right? Way better than chocolate,’ I tease, and he rolls his eyes with a small smile. My phone pings then, and I look down at it, quickly replying to a text from Nayeon, and when I look back up, Jimin’s offering me his. ‘I’ll try a bit. Just to prove that strawberry’s better,’ I say, leaning forward to take a sip. And he pushes the glass towards me, covering my nose and left cheek in cream. ‘Jimin!’ I shriek, the boys bursting into laughter, and I can’t hold back my giggles as I blot the cream away with a tissue. ‘Idiot,’ I mutter, hitting him gently, which makes them laugh even more. And then I notice that Jaehyun has his phone up in his hands, recording us. He stops the recording when I look, and I hold a hand to block his phone. ‘Please don’t put that on your story,’ I say. ‘I was gonna put it on my private,’ he says. ‘Still.’ ‘Why not? Don’t worry, you look nice,’ he says. ‘That’s not it,’ I say, and he sighs. ‘I’m sorry, but if your man can’t deal with you having male friends, then that’s his problem, not yours or mine or Jimin’s or anyone’s. Okay?’ Jaehyun says, and I fall silent, not even bothering to say anything. ‘Put it on, then,’ I say, and all three of the boys grin victoriously.

Jaehyun starts to show Jungkook a funny video on his phone, and so I turn to Jimin. ‘So, how was your first day?’ I ask. ‘It was great. Thank you, for everything,’ he says, and I grin. ‘You are most welcome, Jimin. I’m glad you’ve enjoyed it. Trust me, we’ll have loads more days like this,’ I say, and he smiles. ‘I hope so.’ ‘Well, tomorrow, you guys are at football, and you won’t get back ‘til like 8.30, so I’ll have dinner ready for when you all get home. Then Wednesday, we’re free, so we can do something then. Maybe we could go out for a meal somewhere. If you guys wear your new clothes, you’ll end up in some kind of gossip magazine, guaranteed. Then Thursday, we’re at the golf club. And then Friday, you guys are at football, and you’ll probably end up going for food and stuff after, and I’ll be at home with the girls for a girls’ night. Then we can kill some time on Saturday, and then tell everyone to come over around 6ish. And Sunday will be for recovering,’ I say, Jimin laughing. ‘Are your guys’ schedules always this packed? Because I don’t know how you can hack it,’ he says. ‘Hack it?’ I ask. ‘Um, it means like… manage it, deal with it, cope with it,’ he says, and I nod in understanding. ‘This week is actually quite laidback compared to my usual. Honestly, there is always something going on around here. And then nobody does anything on a Sunday, because you’ve gotta spend Sundays resting. The most I’ll ever do is meet Taeyong or Nayeon for food,’ I say, Jimin shaking his head incredulously. ‘I definitely wouldn’t be able to hack it,’ he says, and I laugh, a little grin playing at his lips.

Our dessert arrives then, and Jimin and I take alternating bites of the pie whilst Jaehyun and Jungkook scoff their desserts down. I have a few spoonful’s of Jaehyun’s custard (considering he got another helping because he knew I’d have some), and it all tastes amazing, just like it did all the previous times we’ve come here. When we’re finished, the server takes our plates away and Jaehyun pays. We all rise up from the booth, and I leave a very generous tip on the table for the server. As soon as we get into the car and Jaehyun starts driving, my phone starts ringing. I get it out and see that it’s Taeyong. ‘Great,’ I mutter before answering it. ‘Hey, babe,’ I say as cheerfully as I can, knowing what I’m in for, as Jaehyun turns down the music. ‘Either you’re purposely trying to annoy me, or you’re that oblivious as to what you’re doing,’ he practically spits down the phone, and I sigh. ‘Tae, what are you talking about?’ ‘You know exactly what I’m talking about. Whose jumper were you wearing in that video on Jae’s story?’ he asks, Jaehyun watching me in the mirror, both Jimin and Jungkook turning to look at me. Obviously, they can hear Taeyong’s words too, because he’s talking that loud. ‘Jimin’s,’ I say, seeing no point in lying.

‘What makes you think that that’s okay, y/n?’ he asks, and I laugh. ‘I was cold.’ ‘Why couldn’t you wear a jumper of your own?’ ‘It was still warm when we left the house, and we ended up taking Jaehyun’s car, so I couldn’t put on the jumper of yours that’s in my car,’ I explain. ‘That’s not good enough, y/n.’ ‘Tae, I’m sorry, but I don’t think there was anything wrong with that. I was cold, Jimin wasn’t, he offered me his jumper, and I said yes. That is it,’ I say. ‘But don’t you see what it looks like, y/n? First of all, that video looks like you’re flirting, and then to make it worse, you’re wearing his jumper. You’re making me look like an idiot,’ he says. ‘Tae, no one thinks that. For all anyone else knows, that jumper I’m wearing is yours, or Jaehyun’s,’ I say, and he laughs. ‘Don’t be ridiculous, y/n, neither of us wear Nike,’ he says, and I see Jimin let out a humourless laugh, turning back to face the front. ‘Oh, get real, Tae, no one knows or cares what you or Jaehyun or I wear. No one will think deeply enough into that video. They will laugh and then skip to the next story. It’s not that big of a deal, and you need to get a grip,’ I say bitterly, surprised with myself. ‘y/n, people will notice. I don’t want people to think my girlfriend is going around with other boys,’ he says, voice shaking with anger, and I scoff. ‘I think it’s pretty obvious I’m yours, I had your dick in my mouth at school a few hours ago,’ I spit out, all three boys in the car pulling faces, but I pay no attention, shaking as I speak. I’ve never spoken to him like this before, and it feels good. Scary, but good. He stays silent for a few seconds, and all I can think is that this is it. He’s gonna dump me, and I’ll be left single and alone. And then he speaks; ‘I’m coming over to your house. I’ll be there in twenty.’

The line clicks off, and I put my phone back into my bag. ‘I’m proud of you for standing up to him like that, y/n,’ Jaehyun says, and I smile, feeling nervous. ‘Why’s he coming over?’ Jungkook asks, and Jaehyun laughs. ‘Either because he knows that y/n will struggle to speak to him the way she just did in real life and so he thinks she’ll apologise and he’ll win, or he’s coming to stay the night… if you get what I mean,’ Jaehyun says. ‘Oh,’ Jungkook says. ‘What if he hits me or something? He seemed angry, Jae, I’m kinda scared,’ I say as we near the house. ‘y/n, relax. He wouldn’t, he wouldn’t dare to lay a hand on you. I’ll kill him before he hits you. You’ll kill him before he hits you,’ Jaehyun says. ‘I’ll kill him before he hits you,’ Jungkook says, all of us laughing. ‘God, he’s such a pompous moron. He really annoys me sometimes,’ I say. ‘I’ve known him for less than one day, and he annoys me sometimes too,’ Jimin says, coaxing more laughter from us as Jaehyun pulls up on the driveway. All of us climb out of the car, Changwoo greeting us. ‘Is father home yet, Changwoo?’ I ask, and Changwoo shakes his head. ‘I’m afraid not, miss,’ he replies, and I sigh. ‘Okay, thank you anyway. Goodnight,’ I say, and he bids us goodnight in return. ‘Oh, Changwoo, by the way, Taeyong’s coming over, he’ll be here soon,’ I say. ‘Okay, miss, I’ll make sure the gate’s open for him,’ he says, and I thank him before heading into the house with the boys.

We head into the smallest living room, the one beside the kitchen, and Jaehyun practically throws himself down onto the biggest sofa. Jimin and Jungkook sit on another sofa, and I perch on an armchair as Jaehyun turns the on the TV, some kind of sports match beginning to blare out into the room. The clock on the wall reads 10.51, and I know that Taeyong will be here in the next nine minutes, the thought making my stomach turn. I stare unseeingly at the TV as the boys get comfortable, watching the match whilst scrolling through their phones. ‘y/n, stop stressing, it’s gonna be fine,’ Jaehyun says, breaking me out of my reverie, and I nod, trying to ease my nerves. I look up at the clock again, the time now reading 10.57, and then I hear the front door, my heart jumping in my chest. All three of the boys look at me, giving me encouraging smiles, and I nod, hearing footsteps nearing us. The living room door opens, and Taeyong stands there, in a pair of slim-fit trousers and a plain t-shirt, a jacket in his hand. ‘Hey, Jae, JK, Jimin,’ Taeyong says, going around to the room to shake their hands, all of them greeting him in return, before he turns to look at me. ‘Can I speak to you, baby? In the kitchen?’ he asks, and I nod, feeling slightly more relaxed at hearing the pet name.

He gently grabs one of my hands and we go next door into the kitchen. ‘What’s this?’ he asks, spotting the food on the counter. ‘We did some baking earlier. Try some if you want, it’s really nice,’ I say, and he does so, breaking off small pieces of both food items and trying them, nodding at me afterwards. ‘They taste nice. Have you had any?’ he asks, obviously wondering how much I’ve been eating, and now that I think about it, I’m mortified. I’ve had a Starbucks, a McDonalds, wine, a milkshake, and dessert, as well as the baking. But it’s about time he stopped monitoring my diet, right? That’s something I should do myself; he doesn’t need to. ‘I tried a bit of each. I’ve actually had a lot to eat today, more than I have in a long time,’ I say, and he nods. ‘Well, that’s okay. It’s good that you have cheat days. It’s not good to eat as little as you do every day. I don’t want you withering away into nothing,’ he says gently, and I have to stop my mouth from falling open in shock. Where has this new attitude come from?

‘So what did you want to talk about?’ I ask, and he takes a seat at the breakfast bar. ‘I wanted to apologise, and I wanted to do it face to face. I’m sorry for speaking to you the way I did on the phone, and I’m sorry for getting so jealous and possessive all the time, and I’m sorry for watching your diet, and I’m sorry for treating you the way I’ve been treating you the past few months. It’s not… it’s not right, and I’m sorry. I was just thinking that I missed the way we used to be, remember? We used to be so in love and romantic and annoyingly sickly, and I miss that. Now, I just feel like we’re an old married couple, and I realised it’s because of me. I’m trying to keep you close, keep you mine and keep you as you are, but I’m only pushing you away. I miss us, baby, and I’m sorry,’ he says sincerely. I can’t believe my ears; I never expected him to say this. ‘What… where is this coming from, Tae?’ I ask. ‘Seeing you with Jimin, it scared me. It hit me, y/n, that even though we’re promised to each other, nothing is guaranteed, nothing is certain. There’s nothing stopping you from leaving me, and I never realised that before, which is something I should’ve been aware of. I can’t just treat you however, because I could lose you to someone else. And my treatment of you, it wasn’t right. I was treating you like my property, but that’s not the case,’ he says, sounding slightly more hysterical with every word. When I don’t reply instantly, he runs a hand through his hair, his eyes looking teary and bright. ‘I’m sorry, y/n, I really am. I love you, baby, and I don’t wanna lose you. I’ll sort myself out and I’ll fix things, I’ll make it right, just please, don’t leave me,’ he says, and for the first time in years, I see Taeyong cry. I take a hesitant step towards where he’s sat, before moving to stand between his legs, and I pull him into my arms. He buries his head in my chest and I hold him tight, gently scraping my nails across his scalp to soothe him, knowing that he likes the feeling.

After a couple minutes, I move away, and he takes a deep breath, composing himself. ‘Taeyong, I’m not gonna leave you. Yes, for pretty much all of this school year, your behaviour towards me hasn’t been great, but that doesn’t mean I’ll leave you. Every couple goes through rough patches, not just us, and I still love you, just as much as I always have. I could never leave you, baby,’ I say. ‘Promise me, y/n. I know it’s silly and immature, but pinky promise me,’ he says, holding out his pinky. ‘I promise to never leave you. As long as you treat me well,’ I say, locking my pinky with him. ‘Always, always. I love you, y/n, I’m sorry,’ he says. ‘Stop apologising. It’s okay,’ I say, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips. I pull away after a few seconds, and he smiles at me. ‘I wanna start over with you. I want us to fall in love all over again,’ he says, and I smile shyly. ‘What, so we’re gonna start dating from the start?’ I ask, and he nods with a grin. ‘I’m gonna court you,’ he says, and I laugh. ‘Court me?’ I ask, and he nods. ‘Like in the 50s,’ he says, and I laugh, putting my arms around his neck and toying with the short hairs at the nape of his neck. ‘Well, I’ll telling you now, don’t throw rocks at my window or anything stupid like that,’ I say, and he bursts out laughing, resting his head against my chest. ‘What about our… agreement?’ I ask. ‘Well, that can stay the same, right? It doesn’t have to change,’ he says, and my heart sinks slightly. ‘Yeah. Yeah, you’re right,’ I say as he sits up, and I have to put on a smile to hide my disappointment. He can’t really love me as much as he claims if he doesn’t want to stay monogamous to me. ‘Are you gonna stay the night?’ I ask him, and he shakes his head, standing up. ‘If I’m courting you, I’m doing it properly,’ he says, and I can’t help but pout at him. ‘Don’t give me that face. We’re gonna start over, like it was when we first started dating when we were, like, 16,’ he says. ‘Fine,’ I sulk, and he laughs. ‘I love you. Come on, let me go say bye, and then I’ll go back home. Seulgi’s alone,’ he says, wiggling his eyebrows, and when I frown, he laughs. ‘I’m kidding, I’m kidding,’ he says, leading me back into the living room where the boys seem suspiciously focused on the TV.

‘I’m heading back, I’ll see you guys tomorrow,’ Taeyong says, all of them bidding each other goodbye with fist bumps and handshakes. ‘Shall I walk you to the door?’ I ask. ‘It’s fine, baby, stay in here. I’ll see you tomorrow,’ he says, pulling me into his arms and pressing a very PG kiss to my lips. ‘I love you. Goodnight,’ he says, blowing me a kiss before he leaves. I turn back to face the boys who all look up at me. ‘That… was not what I was expecting,’ Jaehyun says as I throw myself onto the sofa beside Jungkook. ‘Me neither,’ I sigh, my head spinning. ‘Did he… did he cry?’ Jungkook asks, and I nod. ‘He did. Took me slightly by surprise,’ I say, and I spot an amused smile on Jimin’s face. ‘What’s funny?’ I ask, genuinely intrigued. ‘I don’t know if it’s my place, y/n,’ he says. ‘Tell me. I wanna know your take on it,’ I say, and he shrugs. ‘I don’t buy it, personally. We’ve been here one day, and he’s crying because he doesn’t want to lose you to me? I think it’s because of the way you spoke to him on the phone. It took him by surprise, so he spouted all that crap, squeezed out some fake tears, told you he loves you a couple times, to butter you up, to get you to comply with him, to pipe down. I don’t see how me being here for literally a day can have such an effect on him. That’s just my opinion, anyway,’ he says, and I digest his words. There’s no way he would fake all of that, surely? ‘I disagree, but thank you for the new outlook. I’ll keep that in mind for the next couple weeks, and see if your theory becomes more plausible depending on his behaviour,’ I say tactfully, and he grins. ‘Not gonna lie, y/n, I think he’s right. I don’t think Tae’s being genuine with you. I completely agree with Jimin; he did that to keep you sweet,’ Jaehyun says, and I feel tears coming to my eyes. How many times have I cried today? ‘So you don’t think he cares?’ I ask, voice wavering, and they all look slightly panicked. ‘No, y/n, he cares, of course he cares. It’s just that he probably doesn’t like the way you spoke to him on the phone and instead of going at you, he pulled the guilt trip,’ Jungkook says gently, patting my shoulder, and I nod, sniffling. ‘I think you need to go to bed, y/n. Get a good night’s rest,’ Jaehyun says carefully, not wanting to set me off again, ‘you’ll feel better in the morning.’

[thoughtfullyyoungduck]

Color explosion  (stenbrough x reader)

A/N: This was requested by @stanleyurisgirl​. Thank you so much for the request! I hope you like it! Let me know what you think! Also yes I’m aware the titel sucks 😂

Summary:  If possible could I request a soulmate au where the reader's soulmate's are Stanley Uris and bill Denbrough, could it be where soulmate's are colour blind until they meet their soulmate and can see in color?

‘Can you fucking watch where you’re going?’ Your loud voice called out angrily to a woman who without even looking around flipped you off. You huffed, adjusting your skirt before continuing on your way. You grumbled the whole way, still wondering why you had said yes to this meeting in the first place. You were a illustrator for a marketing company, and you were on your way to meet the famous Bill Denbrough. You had read a few of his books, and beside the general outrage, you actually really liked the ending to his books, and you had a Knick for reading regardless of who the author was, but that didn’t mean you were all that excited for this project. You were supposed to read Mr. Denbrough’s new book draft, and design a book cover for it, but this was the third time already that you had tried to set up a meeting.

The first time mister Denbrough had cancelled, he said he had some family problems, and he had to go back to his hometown, though he didn’t offer up any other explanation. You had felt a bit annoyed, as you lived for away from Atlanta, where the meeting would take place, and you had already been in a hotel when he had called. Still, you understood that sometimes things could come up without any notice, so you politely said nothing and returned to Ohio, where you lived. You had never met Mr. Denbrough before, and the only reason he had your phone number was because your boss had given it to him. The second time your phone had rang and Bill Denbrough’s name popped up, he had said it was a ‘boyfriend emergency’.

Stanley Uris, you thought his name was. In the  radio interviews you had listened to, solely to prepare yourself for your job you insisted, not because Bill Denbrough seemed like an interesting man, he had talked about how much he loved his boyfriend. Stanley Uris was apparently just as blindingly pretty as Bill himself was. You had never seen either one of them, not seeing the point in that, but your friends had, and they loved to tell you all about them.

They suited each other. They weren’t pretty in the same way, Bill looked like he was a laid-back looking man. He wore a lot of plaid shirts, and he dressed casually, but somehow he made it work. Stanley Uris looked more fancy, he wore a suit and tie, his curls tamed as much as they possibly could, and his posture rigid. Both of them looked like models in their own way, and together, they looked even better. Of course, that wasn’t your perspective, but you did trust the judgment of your friends, so you were excited to finally meet him.

A coworker of yours gossiped that Stan and Bill had another soulmate that they hadn’t found yet, as Bill had once mentioned that he and Stan could only see blue colors, which was unusual to say the least. When people met their soulmates, they found out what colors were. It was a universal given, that everyone had a soulmate, and once you met them, you could finally see what the big fuss about  clothes were, your dad often joked that he wasn’t your mothers soulmate, because she still couldn’t match clothes at all. Your mom would huff lovingly and roll her eyes at that. It was rare to have more than one soulmate, but it did happen, yet it was very rarely talked about.

Having a second soulmate was seen as taboo, so when your coworker had told you Bill Denbrough had admitted to it on live television, you doubted it very much.  When people with more than one soulmate met their first one, they would see only one part of the color scheme, until they met their other soulmate(s). You didn’t know if that was the case with Mr. Denbrough and Stanley Uris, but you weren’t too bothered about it. Being happy is always the most important thing.  

You had also heard that Stanley Uris ended up in the hospital, though you didn’t know for what, so while it made sense that Bill was taking care of him, you felt irritated that you had yet again came to Atlanta for nothing. The hotel your boss made you stay in was comfortable, but it didn’t do anything to make you miss your own home any less. You missed your dog when you went away, even though your dog was content to stay with your parents for a couple of days. You had once more said nothing, instead wishing Mr. Denbrough luck. Afterwards though, you reached out to your boss. You weren’t close to her, but that didn’t stop you from telling her that if Bill Denbrough canceled one more time, you were not going to design his cover any more. Your boss complained, but ultimately agreed, which brought you to Atlanta for a third time, and you swore to your parents up and down that this would be the last time that you would drop your dog, stitch, off at their house.

They didn’t mind, in fact, they loved the fact that you were gone. Your mother told you one time that it might be the time Where you would finally meet your soulmate, which caused you to dismount very quickly. Soulmates were a touchy subject in the family, considering you had still not, found your soulmate. Your mother had often pushed on the issue, saying that your biological clock was ticking,

And that she would love to become a grandmother before she died. She had said it in a joking way, though you knew she meant every word of it. She had been pushing you to find your soulmate since you were only 12 years old, and so many fights in the family between your mom and dad went about you. You didn’t even know if you wanted children, because you refused to bring a child into this world that would have two bickering parents all the time.

Your words ran through your head though, and you had looked around Atlanta thoughtfully, hoping that you would suddenly see color. This was the third time you had been here though, and you still had no luck. You were starting to think that you may not even have a soulmate, that you were destined to live your life in a black and white world, I’m a world where you would never be able to match your clothes, or pick out wall colors. It upset you sometimes, like when your best friend got married and you couldn’t help her pick a dress because you couldn’t see the color it was in, but for the most part you had just accepted this as a part of you, and you were okay with it.

You had finally reached the address Bill had given you, not too far away from the train station which you had used, and took a deep breath before knocking on the door. You’re face lit up with a fake smile right away, because you were a professional, and even though Mr. Denbrough got on your last nerve, you were going to be polite

You were surprised that you had actually gotten an address from Mr. Denbrough, as the previous times you had an appointment, you were supposed to meet in a cafe nearby. It seemed like he know that you were close to quitting and decided that having you come over to his home would mean that you could relax a little more. You knocked, and for a few minutes nothing happened, then the heavy door creaked open and a woman stood in the door opening. She was smiling, and she looked absolutely beautiful, even without you being able to see color. ‘You must be Y/N? I’m Beverly, come in, Bill’s caught up in writing again.’ As she said it she extended her hand and you politely shook hers.

She lead you into the home, past the living room where shouting voices could be heard, ‘eat shit trashmount’, but Bev led you over to another door, opening without hesitation. She turned around motioning for you to get in and smiled once more. ‘Don’t get too caught up in how he looks, I swear he’s a professional’, she winked, before walking back to the living room. You wondered if you looked okay, considering you had no idea which colors you were combining.

You stepped into the room, the first thing you noticed was that it was messy place. There were papers everywhere, cups of coffee on the floor where you were sure you there shouldn’t be, and in the middle of it all sat a man, with his back towards you. In front of him, there was another door, leading into a room you couldn’t see from this angle. The man hadn’t appeared to hear you come in, too busy typing furiously.

You coughed lightly, trying to get his attention. His head shot up, and he turned around. ‘Oh I’m so sorry, I completely forgot you were coming today, you must be’. He cut himself off. You suddenly had a pounding headache, so extreme you stumbled backwards, keeping yourself upright on the door.

You squeezed your eyes shut, breathing deeply in through your noise as you tried to calm down. You heard Bill’s breathing pick up a notch, but you were too busy trying to deal with your own pain. After a few seconds of this, your eyes blinked open, heavy and you squinted against the light coming in through the window. Suddenly, your own breathing picked up.

You could see, what you guessed was the color red. It looked so beautiful, and you nearly cried. It was the color of Bill’s shirt, and a deviant of the color was on the walls, orange or pink, you remembered. When you were a child, your school taught tried to teach you colors, but it was hard when most of the kids hadn’t met their soulmates yet. You barely registered Bill, slowly rising from his chair. You looked down, and saw that you had were wearing a lighter red jacket. With tears in your eyes you looked at Bill, who himself was looking at you with tears in his eyes. ‘Hey, Bill would you like a drink’? Someone called out from inside the other room, his voice like velvet.

A confused frown appeared on your face, didn’t Bill have Stan as a soulmate yet? You looked around the room once more, and noticed that some of the colors still weren’t visible to you. You suddenly remembered what you coworker had told you, that Bill had said that he and Stan still hadn’t found their other soulmate. He was so close to you now, if he took one more step forward, the two of you would be pressed together.

Bill ignored his words, instead calling out a quick, ‘Stan, Stan get in here now please’.

Almost immediately, another man came running into the room. He looked scared, but when his eyes landed on Bill he let out a sigh of relief. Bill glanced at him quickly before turning back to you.  The man followed suit, and the second your eyes met, you felt the same pain once more. Your knees buckled, but Bill acted fast and caught you in his arms. You collapsed against him, but this time you opened your eyes quicker than before. ‘Stan’, Bill breathed, and ‘Stan’ looked up at him. His eyes were open as well, and he looked around the room in wonder, before his eyes settled on you, his mouth dropping open slightly.

You looked up at Bill, who helped you stand up again, but kept his arms encircled around you anyway. His eyes were blue, an amazing ocean blue. A smile took over your features once more, you could see every color now. Dark, light, bright, not so bright. Every single one of the colors were full of life, and you couldn’t get enough from watching them. Your friends were right, both Stan and Bill looked absolutely stunning in their own way. Stan’s curls were a dark color, and you reached up and whipped a curl out of his face.

Stan smiled, his hand cupping yours, grabbing your hand tightly. Bill turned your head, leaned down, and kissed you without thinking twice. You kissed him messily, at first hesitant, but after a few seconds the both of you pushed your nervousness aside, and kissed like your life depended on it.

You felt dazed, so full of happiness. Stan and Bill shared a kiss too, and you felt a bomb of happiness in your heart. You had not one, but two soulmates, how lucky were you?

Stan leaned forward a bit, but instead of kissing you on the lips, he pressed a kiss to your forehead. ‘I’m sorry’, he murmured, ‘I’m not good with germs’. You laughed, reaching your arms around his midsection, shaking you head. ‘Don’t apologize.’

‘I’m Bill, but I think you already knew that’, Bill laughed, his hand reached out for Stan, who immediately took it.

‘I’m Stan’, Stan continued, still leaning close to you.

Still dazed from the amount of love you were feeling, and from all the color attacking your eyes you merely replied with; ‘I have a dog called Stitch.’

The loud laughs both Stan and Bill let out made you laugh too, and you had never felt more at ease than you were now. Thank god for your boss.

[izuochaweek]

Vacation

For the life of him, Izuku could not figure out what was wrong. He and Ochako were on vacation with her parents and she was quite happy the entire time. It then turned one eighty once they arrived on I Island. So here he was in front of her parents who seemed to be as confused as he was.

  “So you have no idea either?” Izuku asked the tall burly man and his wife.

  “Sorry son,” Mr. Uraraka answered. “The moment we got off the plane, her mood just turned sour.”

  “Did she say anything about why?” Izuku continued. 

  “Nope,” Mrs. Uraraka said. “Though I did hear her grumble something about wanting to get this part of the vacation over with. I wonder why? This place seems nice and lively.”

  ‘I’m on my own on this one,’ Izuku thought with a sigh. ‘Hopefully I can figure this out.”

  The entire day he tried talking to Ochako but she found some excuse to get away or not talk. It was not helping the hurt and confusion that he was feeling. There are also the times she suddenly appears when he was talking with the opposite gender. The icy glare while she smiled was both unnerving and terrifying.

  “What did I do wrong?” Izuku asked himself with a defeated sigh. Accepting the dark thoughts that had been plaguing him since they arrived. “It can’t be helped. I am just a deku after all.”

  Unbeknownst to him, Ochako was hiding behind the corner. Tears flowing from her eyes as she finally realized what she was doing to him. That one sentence conveyed all the emotions that he was feeling. His confidence that took years to build, she was tearing down in a day. His body language receding back to that scared nerdy boy that could not talk to people without flinching. It was painful to watch and she felt her heart shatter seeing him return from what he was before. 

  “I’m sorry Deku-kun,” Ochako whispered as her legs lost all strength.

    Izuku laid on his bed. Looking up at the white ceiling of the hotel room. He still had no idea what was wrong. 

  “What could have happened that would make Ochako act like this?” He mumbled. “Was she not enjoying the trip? But with the way she was before, that shouldn’t be the case? Is it her…”

  Lost in his thoughts, Izuku failed to notice that someone had entered his room. The brunette that had been haunting his thoughts stood in front of him. 

  “Deku-kun,” Ochako said but did not get a response. She called him a few more times but still no response. Waving her hands in front of his face. “Earth to Deku?”

  “Maybe it’s her time of the month,” Izuku mumbled but was clear enough that Ochako went scarlet when she heard his hypothesis.

  “WHAT!?” She screeched in embarrassment. Pulling the boy out of his thoughts.

  “Ochako!?” He shouted as he sat up and jumped back a little from surprise.

  “Uh…hi,” Ochako greeted shyly. “I…”

“I’m sorry!” Izuku apologized. Effectively cutting her off as he bowed. “I’m not sure what I did that made you so upset but I’m sorry. I’m oblivious when it comes to these matters. I will try…” 

  A soft padded finger was on his mouth. Silencing him. Looking up, his eyes widened and his body stiffened. Ochako was crying. 

  ‘Oh no! What did I do!? What can I do!?’ His mind racing to find the reason for Ochako’s current state.

  “You don’t…”

  Sob.

  “Have to apologize, Deku-kun!”

  Sniffle.

  “You never did anything wrong.”

  Blubber.

  “This entire problem has always been because of me!” Ochako admitted as she lost strength in her legs and fell to the floor. 

  A pair of strong arms wrapped around her. Letting herself be engulfed in the protective embrace as she cried into his chest. His hands gently stroking her back was helping her calm down.

    It felt warm. Like being in front of a fireplace in the middle of winter. Deku’s arms wrapped around her. She felt comfortable, safe, at home. Slowly Ochako opened her eyes. 

  “Feeling better?” A voice she recognized as Izuku asked. 

  Looking up, Her eyes met his emerald ones and without words the couple communicated. The emotions that they were feeling, their insecurities, their innermost thoughts and their secrets. Some found it odd that they could convey so much to each other yet say very little. Some like Bakugo were annoyed at the wordless communication. Still, it showed how much their bond had grown since they met each other.

  “I’m sorry for making you feel that way,” Izuku apologized. 

  “It’s ok,” Ochako said meekly. Her cheeks turning a few shades darker. “I was the problem to begin with.”

  Izuku smiled. His worries finally leaving him as understanding settled in its place. Pulling her closer so that her back was against his chest and placing his head on her shoulder. 

  “You know you don’t have to worry about that,” Izuku said. His voice was soft and caring. “I love you.”

  “I know,” Ochako responded. Putting her hands on top of his. “It’s just… I can’t help it, ya know.”

  “I do,” Izuku said empathetically. “It happens to me too.”

  “It does!?” Ochako asked in surprise. Breaking away from the comfortable position she was in to see his face.

  “It does,” Izuku replied as he rubbed the back of his head. Slightly embarrassed. “Do you know how many times I’ve had to restrain myself from ripping someone away when he or she became handsy with you. Not to mention the urge to kill perverted villains they tried something.”

  “Oh I see,” Ochako said smiling as butterflies lingered in her stomach. 

  “Hey,” Izuku said as he placed his forehead on hers. Their eyes, so close to each other that they can’t look away. “No one is going to take me from you.” 

  “Promise?” Ochako asked.

  “With all that I am,” Izuku replied before moving his lips on top of hers. 

  Like always, it was intoxicating. The warmth, the softness, the love and longing that he felt everytime they kissed was like a drug to him. Her tongue felt like velvet on his. It took his breath away. She tasted sweet like mochi, bitter like coffee and everything in between. Ochako was addicting.

  Pulling back only when the need for air arose. He placed his forehead back onto hers. Brown eyes met green, locking in place as their respective owners stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. 

  “I’m telling you, Izuku’s going to be fine,” Mr. Uraraka said as he and his wife burst in the room.

  “Still, I’m worried about ‘Chako,” Mrs. Uraraka countered. “We’ve never seen her act like this.”

  “Don’t worry, we’ve raised ‘Chako well and our son-in-law is a good man,” Mr. Uraraka said while putting a reassuring hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Whatever issue is happening between them, I’m sure they’ll sort it out.”

  Mrs. Uraraka chuckled. Taking her husband’s in her own. She gave him a smile that told him that she had been convinced. Her smile then turned mischievous as her hand moved onto his chest and began poking him.

  “Son-in-law?” She teased. “Aren’t ya jumping a few steps ahead dear?”

  “Bah,” Mr. Uraraka waved her off. “With how their relationship is going, they might as well be married. It’s only a matter of time.”

  “My… my such claims,” Mrs. Uraraka said. “Aren’t ya supposed to be scaring men away from our precious little girl?”

  “Are ya kiddin’ me?” Mr. Uraraka asked her in disbelief. “The boy’s the number one hero. He’d mop the floor with me. Plus, I can tell that he really cares about Ochako. She’s in safe hands.”

  The older couple finally arrived at the young couple’s room. Entering it, they were met with a sight that caused their eyes to widen and their cheeks to turn a few shades redder. There sat on the bed was Izuku and Ochako. Looking back at them like deers caught in front of headlights. Their faces were red as tomatoes. The string of saliva still connecting them.

  “Ahem,” Mrs. Uraraka coughed. “Oops, I guess we intruded on a moment. Come along dear.”

  She gave the two a sheepish smile before she took her husband’s hand and exited the room. Leaving the young couple staring at the door. After a few minutes, Ochako finally giggled.

  “We better go,” Ochako said as she rose to her feet. Breaking Izuku from his stupor. “Before they think we’re doing something else.”

  She was answered with a hug from behind. The warmth and emotions that were emanating from the action caused her to squeal. 

  “I couldn’t of anyone else that I rather be with than you,” Izuku whispered into her ear. “Because you’ve had my heart from the first time we met.”

  With a kiss to the cheek, he released her. Taking her hand and guiding them both to the door. They walked in comfortable silence towards Melissa’s lab. Before entering the building, Izuku turned back to her with a smile.

  “Anyways, Melissa’s our friend,” Izuku said confidently. “She would never do that.”

  “She’s not mine,” Ochako hissed darkly. Her words, barely audible.

  “Sorry what was that?” Izuku asked.

  “Nothing!” Ochako half screamed and half whispered after realizing what she said. Rushing forward in an attempt to escape further questions. “Let’s go! She’s probably waiting for us.”

  “Right!” Izuku responded. Allowing his lover to practically drag his weightless body to their destination.

[survivor-tierradelfuego]

Ep. 12: “everyone is feeling pity for me...WHICH IS AMAZING” - Pedro

Najwah

I don't think I'm good at survivor lmao. I don't like what it's doing to me. Initially the blindsiding and voting put felt like nothing but it's getting so hard every day. I've known these people for almost a month now and I've grown so close to them. These feelings of paranoia and trying to go after people is just a lot. Also the idea of using people pisses me off. I told Cody and Sarah that my bond with Amy wasn't like that but they still felt as though they needed to try to get Amy "for the numbers" instead of trying to talk to Pedro or something - which annoys me. I don't want to use people for numbers. I don't want to use people at all. My perspective has changed completely. I'm still PLAYING but as I say repeatedly, my connections with humans is more important than an ego boost that comes with winning. Amy finally contacted me again after I asked her whether she was angry with me. She said yes bc I didn't choose her as my closest ally in the previous challenge.  Thanks again James. So basically she saw I chose someone else, but she chose me as her closest ally. And I chose her as the person I trust the most and she chose Maddison? Am I not supposed to be mad at that too? I just miss her. We had such a fun friendship going. Now it's just scrambling and game talk with Sarah and Cody. It's a lot. I'm still not sure whether I want to tell Sarah about my super idol but I'm guessing Cody already had. That's why he's pressurising me to tell Sarah lmao. Also I'm not sure where their heads are at and how they feel about me. Whether they are just keeping me here because of my superidol. Either way, I guess I'm glad to be here. 

Olivia A

Cody has been VERY enthusiastic about the fact that he wants to work closely with me moving forward. In this challenge, however, when given the choice to take away Pedro’s immunity or my immunity, he took away mine!! That was very telling that they are trying to pull Pedro in for numbers and don’t actually want to work with us lol. Kinda stupid of them. 

Maddison

Pedro keeps scrapping by and is definitely now working with old Hanuha... Pedro! you’re on the bottom with them!! (and us too, oop)

Pedro A

okay everyone is feeling pity for me...WHICH IS AMAZING.....i can use that to get a little further in the game...even tho i still think my days are numbered....BUT I THINK WE MIGHT GET MADDISON´S ass out of game..its my only chance to stay lol

Aimee

I dedicate this song to Maddison! Alina Baraz - Trust https://youtu.be/Akgs6Lu0AiI I’m so happy I can trust you in this game. I feel it. You really comforted me when Grae and then Ben got their torches snuffed. You have never wronged me and I think I’m a good judge of character. We just click. I’m glad I can just pour all myself out to you and all my game thoughts. You never know when you’re the next one off the skype island and I want you to know everything. I’m not writing your name down in this game. Old Hanuha it’s gonna have to blindside me a 4th time. Lol and I’m closer with Pedro in this game than they realize. So if they try to pull his vote, hopefully I will know. 🤞 I honestly hope I wasn’t too suspicious on last immunity challenge that I never cut your rope. I wish you didn’t get out first round in this one! 😢😟 Aimee

Pedro has really helped pass the time at jury duty today. It’s fun chatting with him about the legal systems in our countries and cracking jokes at each other. Speaking of game for a moment, you can’t just ignore someone in this game like Pedro and treat them like an outcast and then expect to use them when you see fit. I have a genuine connection with him and even now I’m sitting here wondering.... do I save him this vote? There’s a lot to consider. It’s funny how old Hanuha thinks they can just grab any old Maola and work with them. Sorry guys you might be a little bit late to that game. I’ve heard from just about all of them how disingenuous old Hanuha is being. Hahahahaha sorry but I’ve been there with all of old Maola WAY before you have. They can see that I’ve been forthcoming and building relationships for days and not some last minute sketch as hell thing. It truly pays off to not lie or be messy when you have no reason to be. I guess that’s what happens when you’ve been blindsided and left out so much....I had no choice but to adapt my game. Maybe one day you’ll find out what that’s like too? I’ve been thinking so many steps far ahead and predicting potential moves before they happen. It’ll take a lot for them to get an old Maola vote without me knowing about it. https://64.media.tumblr.com/5edf24d4321044ba332b90b161d0f442/587280b4d69b93c7-b5/s400x600/8f010451e459cb39058854d9655031b4bb9b617f.gifv

Maddison

I know I’m a target again tonight, so its a good thing I have the idol in my pocket.

Olivia A

Maddison found an idol!! We think they are going to go for Maddison so she’ll play it for herself and we’re going to vote Cody out. He might have an idol too, though, so we might switch it to Najwah and hope they don’t expect that. I think we have Aimee with us so if we get Cody or Najwah out we’ll be in the majority. 

Najwah

So the plan initially was to get Olivia out but Amy L messaged me to tell me that her tribe is trying to get Aimee on board to vote me out? And apparently Pedro is on board with that too. However, Amy wants to get Maddison out but just not right now. And that's problematic because I really wish Amy would work with me. At what point does she want to work with me I don't understand. Also, she's talking to Pedro about her and my alliance and its starting to freak me out. For some reason she thinks I'm at the bottom of my alliance? Sigh. So she told us Olivia has an idol which puts a spanner in the works. It's two hours to tribal and I think I'm about to get blindsided lmao. Unless I vote for Amy, this is a high possibility. If she just came to work with me to get Maddison out, I could protect her but as long as she's part of their alliance, I can't really do much. I honestly wish she'd just vote with us. I don't want to get her out. I wanted an African Queen final. She suggested that we get Maddison or Olivia out and then she, her and Pedro and Maddison start our own alliance and get Cody, Sarah and Aimee out. And then Maddison and it's her, me and Pedro in the final. 💀 I just.. I don't want to betray people to that extent. Yes it's a game but also, it's just a game. I hate that I'll have to write Amy down for this. HATE It and it makes me fucking sad but whyyyyy won't she just work with us. Now she has my fake idol too dammit. We could trick Maddison so easily. Ugh. I just hope she'd change her mind within the next couple of hours. I really don't want to lose the one person I trust in this game. Fuck. While Magnificent Maddison is still in? Our game could definitely go to shit. Who's to say Aimee won't vote with Maddison and Pedro next. Why are we not getting the biggest threat out? I don't understand. Even Amy thinks she's a threat but when it comes doen to it she just never wants to vote her? Whyyyyyy

Sarah

My video link won’t upload so... I’ll send this in for now. 

For tonight’s vote, the four old Hanuha and Pedro want to vote together and we don’t have too much of a preference who we vote for. But, Naj found out through Amy that Olivia has an idol so we can either make it sound like we are voting Olivia or Maddison and hopefully flush an idol. So I talked to Naj and said I think we may be safer to vote Amy because we know an idol won’t be played on her and Amy won’t vote with or work with Naj completely. Amy is just being a messagener so she’s not really worth keeping around if she won’t work with us. Also, I don’t think Aimee wants to vote Olivia or Maddison. So the plan is to blindside Amy tonight and hopefully nothing crazy happens with advantages.  

Olivia A

Maddison found an idol!! We think they are going to go for Maddison so she’ll play it for herself and we’re going to vote Cody out. He might have an idol too, though, so we might switch it to Najwah and hope they don’t expect that. I think we have Aimee with us so if we get Cody or Najwah out we’ll be in the majority. 

Amy A

There’s so much happening in my personal life and this game is my sanity which is funny because it’s ANYTHING but sane in here. The vote is going bonkers once again. I don’t know what will happen. There are names everywhere. I just hope I survive another night. 

Olivia A

So the official plan is to vote Najwah. Amy told Pedro that we’re voting Cody so hopefully he relays that false info to Hanuha people. He also accidentally sent Amy some messages along the lines of “amy and maddison want me to vote w them but don’t even tell me the plan...” lmao so we have it confirmed that he’s telling Hanuha everything. I’m not sure if it’s a good or bad thing that Pedro didn’t include me in that/assume I’m working with them. Maybe I am a goat! Not sure. Everything Maddison has done (whom everyone thinks is the big target) is something that I also did. We’ve been working in collaboration literally the whole game and come up with all plans together. That doesn’t feel like a goat to me. 

Pedro A

I'm FUCKING SCAREDDDDD....like I don't trust Maddison and olivia....why would I vote with them...but at the same time...... I would just get 6th and 5th...LIKE COME ON...from the bottom to the powerful position..Idk how much more I can take...IM DYINGGGGGGGGGGGGG KILL ME ALREADY...sorry im literally a psycho ...#streampsycho by red velvet THO....but at the same time...Amy wants me to vote Cody......I CAN'T BE THE LAST MALE IN THE GAME....everyone will come for me

Maddison

I know I’m a target again tonight, so its a good thing I have the idol in my pocket.

Olivia A

Ahhh now Amy is being sus. She said she started talking to Najwah pretending she was interested in flipping to get info. But she never shared that w Maddison and me while it was happening so that makes me think she was actually interested in flipping. Also she apparently told Najwah that Maddison and I are super close! I don’t like that. I feel like I’m going home tonight. 

Cody A.

https://youtu.be/l8RU7yci6kY

Cody A.

https://youtu.be/u5Wj3o0jqZE

[written-by-ti]

Chapter 1 (Present day)

A glowing red gaze stared intently at a clock. The pendulum swung back and forth, making a soft tic tic tic rhythm. The beast that was staring at the clock, began to sway his head back and forth in sync with the pendulum. Slowly the hands moved, coming closer and closer the next hour.

The beast had fluffy fur at the top to his chest, a stone blue and beckoned to be touched and petted (despite the creature hating to be touched.) Beneath the thick blue fur was shorter black fur. It was slick and well kept. He had razor sharp claws that could retract, but it seemed he always had them out. And his head resembled a skull almost, a orange hue to it, upon closer inspection, the 'mask' had fuzz on it, velvet to the touch. And on top, the beast had two antlers that were black. And finally, the beast had a long bushy tail, coming in dark and light colors.

“Florence? FLORENCE where are you!?” A female voice yelled. Florence was too entranced by the clock that he didn't answer. In the door way, a small woman in black robes came wandering in. “There you are, I have been looking everywhere for you! Why the library?” she questioned the beast.

Finally Florence tore his attention away from the hypnotizing clock and looked to the girl. She seemed pretty ordinary, wasn't even a reaper. Florence has never seen her, and assumed she was the offspring of a reaper and a humanoid. She didn't have that reaper scent.

“What is it?” he asked, his crimson gaze staring at the girl. He turned his head back to the clock for a second while he waited for a reply, then looked back at her.

“One of the elites want you. His name was Zek, I think. Said something about your next assignment,” the nameless girl answered finally. “That is all.” She spun around on her heels and left the room

Zek... Zek... he didn't find the name familiar. He sighed and then got up, turning away from the clock and headed out of the room. The outside was quite different to other worlds. The Realm had a blood red sky, and then black clouds, the night time is a indigo. As for the moon and sun, the sun was pure white, the moon was pure black (when clouds were around, it was hard to see. Nor did it emit light, just darkness.)

When Florence reached outside, he stretched his limbs, and then he grew in size. Going from a rather large human height, to a towering one, one that was nearly the size of a one story building.

“I hate shrinking. Damn the rules and not just buying bigger houses. But nooo that's against the rules because small ones couldn't get bigger!” Florence complained under his breath as he went down the path. He was the only person there in the area. The Realm was endless. Which made finding this Zek character nearly impossible if he wasn't an elite.

Florence knew he could just go to the castle in the valley and find him. He was going to do just that. He held out his paws and blinked, a pole began to materialize into his clutches, then a blade at the end. It had a black and red pattern, like most reapers had with their scythe. And with it, Florence slashed the air in front of him, tearing open a portal to the castle. He quickly stepped through, entering him in a beautiful green valley. Reds, blues, yellows, purples complimented the green, a variety of flowers.

All reapers could make portals, and some hybrids if they were lucky. Florence was glad he was a death reaper, but at times, he wasn't happy. All deaths were forced into the job, if they refused, their life would be within a dungeon until they changed their mind. Florence hated that system, it was cruel, and it made death reapers have no freedom really. Now they had to hit this crazy high number of souls to retire and do whatever they wished.

The reaper headed down the neat path and to the gates. The castle was huge, and he envied the elites that lived in the castle. It was fit to their favors. He wouldn't even need to shrink to enter.

He gently nudged the gate open and stepped through. This place always seemed dull, nothing much happened as he could see. Everything just talked and did paper work. Being an elite was borning he had concluded long ago.

The behemoth entered the castle and went to the small desk. There was a bored looking fluffy serpent at the desk. But when she saw Florence, she tried to get busy.

“How can I help you?” she asked in a rather high pitched voice. Florence almost laughed, she kind of sounded like a squeak toy talking.

“I am here to see Zek? About my next orders?” Florence said. It's been quite a few years since he's been on a new order. It'd keep him busy. He did wonder who would be on his team, would it be just him? A solo mission? Or maybe a squad? All he knew is that he hoped for a solo. His last team wasn't exactly great. He picked up all their slack (more souls for him) and had one team member constantly try to fight him. He had a feeling he wanted to show off in front of the only girl on the team, and Florence was seniority and one of the stronger Death Reapers.

“One moment please,” the serpent suddenly squeaked, causing Florence to snort and then cough. The lady gave him a glare and made a call. Then she began squeaking away into the phone. Florence clamped his mouth shut, but laughter left his nose. He didn't know why it was so funny, but it just was. He imagined picking her up and squeezing her to make her squeak.

“Pfffft,” he wheezed out and then got a hold of himself. Luckily, the girl was too busy on the phone to hear him fail at containing his laughter (or so he hoped.)

She placed away the phone and looked up at him, “He will be right with you. Please take a seat over there,” she said, nodding to the wait area.

“Okay Miss Squeaks,” Florence replied and just realized what he called her. He made a bee line for the waiting room, hearing hissing behind him. He felt horrible for calling her that. But he couldn't help it.

What he loved about the seating area, is they had a variety of chairs. Your average reaper didn't go over fifteen feet. And the smallest didn't go under four feet. So they had different sized chairs in the castle, some for the biggest, some for the smallest. He sat down in one of the large chairs and melted into the cushion.

His gaze flicked up the the TV screen, showing some cartoon. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but it was some little kid battling a demon. That's what he made out.

Around an hour of watching the weird show, someone of a medium size came out. Florence saw him out of the corner of his eyes and looked at him. It was a canine like beast with a horn on his nose, then two on his head.

“Are you Florence?” the large dog asked.

“Yeah that's me,” he replied. The reaper leaned in a little towards the dog man. He couldn't place on what type he was (then again, there was an unlimited amount of breeds when there were so many dimensions.) He wanted to say, hell hound.

“I am Zek. I will tell you where you will be going for your next duty. You will be working with three others,” he said and then motioned for Florence to follow.

He hopped off the couch and went after Zek, going to a giant office. The dog moved the chair out of the way and motioned for the behemoth to take a seat on the floor, which Florence did. The canine went on the other side and sat down on his own chair.

“You will be working on Earth Dimension D-Z-888. It's not your normal Earth, they have beings like us, animal like ones, and even dragons. The world is bigger than the average Earth, so you have a total of four in a group, including you. You four are in charge of Japan and Asia as left overs,” Zek informed the beast.

Florence nodded his massive head, indicating that he had listened. He knew what the left overs meant, it would mean other reapers would be there. And some could get nasty when you took their 'souls.'

“Who are my team?” Florence inquired.

“All large. There is Iris, she will be your leader. Her element is Surroundings. Then you have Leonidas, his element is actually opposite of yours! His is light. And lastly, we have Noche, her element is cosmos. Those are the three you will be with.”

Iris, he knew her. He saw her sometimes out in a flower shop when she was at home base. She seemed nice, not the annoying boss types. And if the rumors are correct, she once almost became an elite, but she didn't want to. Not only that, her element was highly dangerous to mortals. She would have made a great wipe out team (when a world killed a reaper, they would wipe out the race that was responsible.)

Leonidas... he never heard of him (he assumed it was a him) but Noche was another one he's heard of, however never saw. She was another powerful reaper, and even had the ability to grant people who weren't reapers, wishes with her ability 'wish upon a star.' But from what he also heard, she only used it on dying souls.

“Alright, I've heard about two of them, but not Leonidas. May I hear about him?” Florence questioned, leaning forward a little bit. His tail sweeping the floor behind him.

“Ah yes, one moment.” Zek spun around on his chair and slide over to a file cabinet. He picked out a folder and placed it on the desk, then rolled back and faced it. He opened it and scanned through the printed paper. Florence caught a glance of his picture, but only for a moment. It seemed this guy had a skull for a head with horns. With pink and purple fur.

“Leonidas is one that likes to take order. He takes his job seriously but is hot headed. He is lazy when he has his time off and plays... video games and looks at... may-mays on the internet? I don't know what that is...” he cleared his throat an continued, “He will send any hero to heaven, even if they've killed people. And will send any villain to hell. He plans to become a hero when he retires. That's the brief summary you have,” the canine finished and closed the folder.

Great, a hot headed guy who likes to take charge. He hoped that Iris would put him in his place if he acted up.

“What can I do if I don't get along with any of them? I mean, like fight? The last time I had one of my team mates constantly try to start something with me,” Florence shared with a frown. He didn't want THAT to happen again.

“You gotta suck it up. Just don't kill your team mate if you can kill them. It's life, you're not going to get along with every co worker,” Zek replied and looked at a few papers on his desk.

Florence bit his tongue, he was about to snap, but he decided against it. It wasn't worth it. His kept his temper in check, stood up, and left without a goodbye.

When a reaper was issued an order, it would have to be done within the week. Then he forgot to ask what time frame this Earth was. He's visited Earths that were in the prehistoric times, and then others that were futuristic, with hover cars and robots doing everything for them. Guess he would find out soon enough.

Florence opened up a portal and headed through, coming to a house that was a bit taller than him. The beast grumbled under his breath and shrank, then entered the house. He went straight to his room, and tore open a small portal. Then began cramming it full of stuff. Pocket dimensions were good for storing things. Able to grab it at any time.

He then went to his bed, taking out a small owl plush. It was gray and brown with a white face and belly. And the eyes would follow you. It was the only plush that he was found with. He didn't know if his mother or father left it with him before abandoning him (or maybe getting killed) but he cherished it.

“Well lil guy, ready to see a whole new world with me?” he asked the doll with a smile. He then gave it a snug hug and threw himself onto the bed. His tail sagging over the edge. Florence pulled up the blankets, and then fell to sleep nearly instantly.

Around three hours passed and Florence was back awake. He sat upright, the plush tumbling off of his chest, and he rubbed at his eyes. He looked around and saw he sky was changing to a brown. The sign it was time for night, or time for morning. He got up, grabbing the owl and putting it into the pocket dimension, and then closed it up.

Florence left his house and attuned his mental messaging to the Earth he was going for. The only other ones who would be on it, were his team mates. It was a way to communicate without talking, and from miles and miles away. He tested it by saying a quick hello, he was met by silence. Guess no one came here yet, he thought to himself.

The death manifested his scythe and tore open a portal again. When he opened it, he was thinking Japan. He'd wind up anywhere in Japan, but if he was lucky, he'd be outside of a place. But just in case, he activated his cloak and stepped through, venturing into Japan.

[mounteenbase]

Badboy!The8 ~ Pt. 3

A/N: Shoutout to Red Velvet to releasing a very appropriate song to this au! Also I think this is the final part of the serie! Unless I get a lot of requests for this I think this is where I’ll end it! 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*  Part 2  ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You quickly went over to Minghao and whispered to him “What do we do now? Run?”

Minghao sighed. “Just let me handle this, stay here and don’t embarrass yourself.”

So many questions were going through your head ‘Is he gonna take on all those guys on his own??’ ‘Is he really that strong?’ ‘How is he even this calm??”

You thought about running away while you still could but honestly you thought you had more chance to survive waiting for Minghao to solve it all

“Guys guys, I told you I’d take care of this. They won’t get up our business ever again.”

“Wohoo Ming is getting possessive. Chill dude, we just wanted to see which simple soul was stupid enough to get into this situation.” 

They then proceeded to look over to you

“It’s a girl??” “Wait isn’t that Y/n from a few blocks over?” “Well fuck I think it is!”

Oh, oh god 

you felt so stupid, that was his gang, not the Black Jets

He must’ve been just annoyed they saw you two together...

“Yeah that’s Y/n alright, she’s just into art. We won’t hear from them again in the future.”

“Wait one second... what’s she wearing? Oh my god Minghao you trying to get into her pants?” This question was quickly followed with laughter from the whole group

“Lemme look at her from a little closer though, I wouldn’t mind smashing that.” another gang member said.

“Can we just go and consider this finished? The wall and street is our territory again and she won’t get involved again. Let’s go.” 

It was clear Minghao’s last words were an order. The last offer he’d give them before snapping

So that was it, Minghao and his friends left, you just sat down for a second to comprehend everything that happened in the past hour

After all this, why did you still feel like you wanted to discover more of him?

But time went by, new drawings appeared on the wall, everything was just like nothing changed

You did think of Minghao once in a while but you thought it was pretty clear he wanted nothing to do with you

That was until well, you started taking a new way to get home from work

Normally you’d walk by a big open street but they were renovating the sidewalk 

You couldn’t complain you’ve almost sprained your ankle twice thanks to that sidewalk

So yeah, you just had to take another road

You did recognise the graffiti tag on the walls, this was Black Jet territory.

But then again, they never saw you and if you took another way around you’d take like 15 minutes longer to get home

Okay you might get whistled at once in a while... maybe you felt super unsafe as well...

One day after a late work party you recognised a Fire Horn member who had laughed at you that one night. He seemed to recognise you as well. “Woh woh Y/n I didn’t think so. You may not be a Fire Horn but you came up for our group so we’re cool. But let me give you some good advise, don’t ever go through here again. The Black Jets will eat you alive if they know who you are.”

So you were scared enough to try take the 15 minute longer route because you weren’t gonna arrange your own funeral. You did wonder, how were you know in the gangs? Were you an unofficial Fire Horn member?

To your relief the place was beautiful, more greens, less buildings, some nice old ladies that always greeted you on the way home

There was a cute middle school in the street and about when after school activities ended you had to make your way through the street

One day though a reckless kid rode into you with his bike, the child was okay though he could put his feet down fast enough not to lose balance

And well you were laying on the ground with chafed knees and hands

Luckily this sweet middle aged woman offered to get you some band aids and disinfect the wounds

She let you into her house and said you could wait on the sofa while she searched for her first-aid kit

While you were awkwardly waiting in the woman’s living room you heard someone come down the stairs

It was a surprisingly familiar face

“Woh woh what the fuck, Y/n? How the fuck did you even get in here?” 

Yes indeed, this was Minghao’s home, apparently it was his mom that helped you

“Wait one second I didn’t even know this was your house! Your mom let me in because of this.”

You pointed to your knees and showed the palms of your hands afterwards

He came down further from the stairs and came to sit next to you and took your hands to examine them

“What did you do now though?”

Your got this nice feeling in your stomach thanks to the sudden touch but still answered normally “Some crazy kid drove into me with his bike, so I fell. Nothing serious though.”

His mom had returned with the first-aid kit, Minghao quickly gave you your hands back

“Oh was I interrupting something?”

He quickly got up to the kitchen “Nope. I’ll be getting some snacks, like a good host.”

You were just shocked how much more vulnerable he was in his own house

“So, do you guys know each other maybe?” 

She quietly started disinfecting your hands and knees

“Uh yeah we met through this art thing.” You didn’t know how much his mom knew about his gang life because she seemed like a pretty nice lady that’s not really involved in all of that

“Now you say it, I you really remind me of this drawing he made not long ago! Oh gosh I don’t think I should’ve said that if you know each other.” She said with a smile

Okay no you were sure she didn’t know anything about his gang life

“You know actually my son used to have a jacket just like the one you’re wearing now.”

Oh yeah

The jacket...

Actually because that jacket was warmer than all jackets you owned, you kept wearing it

Then Minghao came back into the living room with some little snacks that definitely took way less time to prepare because he didn’t want to get back in here

“Ming, look didn’t you have a jacket just like this one?”

You never thought you’d live to see this

But Minghao, the gang member who beat up countless people, that’s in a gang and does illegal stuff before breakfast

That Minghao, was blushing, red ears and all

“Uhm that is the jacket...”

And apparently Mr. though guy also can’t lie to his mom (at least when it’s not about gang stuff)

“Oh my god is that why you keep sneaking out at night? Is she your girlfriend?”

“Mom don’t, we’ll talk about this later. I just gave her the jacket because I don’t wear it anymore and she was cold.”

“I knew I raised a gentleman! But sure, I’ll stop embarrassing you. Y/n your knees and hands should be alright now, do you maybe want to stay for dinner?”

“No she doesn’t mom.” he quickly turned around to face you “Y/n let’s talk. Privately. My room.”

“Leave the door open sweety.”

Minghao made this horrible sound out of embarrassment, you really couldn’t help but laugh

“Oh god who would’ve thought a gang member would be such a mommy’s boy. I’m sorry but I’m enjoying this too much.”

“Please just shut it for one second my world is kind of collapsing. You, why do you have to keep meddling with my life? First you slip your phone number into my jacket after that night. Then you started messing with the Black Jet graffiti and now you’re in my house?”

“Hey I learned my lesson but me being in your house was not on purpose. But why exactly is your world collapsing?”

You made yourself comfortable and sat down on his bed

You did wonder if that was lowkey inappropriate because you weren’t exactly close friends

“Just, I don’t want my gang life and family life getting mixed up with each other. Not even one of my gang members knows where I live.”

He sat down next to you now hands in his hair, clearly contemplating his life

“Well I’m smart enough to stay out of gang business unlike someone here. Normally I’d have to walk through the Black Jets neighbourhood but I made a detour to this neighbourhood. That’s why I’m here every day. I even made friends with some old ladies down the street.”

“Please don’t tell me you’ve met my grandma as well?”

“Oh my god I always thought Mrs. Xu did look like you.”

“Well I guess I can’t blame you for this all, it’s all my fault for being so reckless. You were smart enough to stay away from the Black Jets at least...”

“Actually now you say it, one of your friends warned me. He said if they realised who I was, they would beat me up. What’s that all about?”

“About that, well, I kind of made the mistake of spray painting your face on a wall to claim you. We hear the Black Jets saw you paint the wall red again, they were planning on abusing or even killing you. My actions did have consequences but you’re well and alive and that’s what I was aiming for.” 

You didn’t believe your ears.

“So basically, I’m a member of your gang?”

“No not quite, more of a trophy? Wow that sounded way worse than I meant.”

“Nono I get it. Thanks though for the protection, what other consequences does this have though?”

“Uhm you cannot enter Black jet territory, in the gang world we’re practically dating and my gang will give you protection. And we need nothing in return it’s just if you are on Black Jet territory you’re a huge target, if you’re not they basically can’t do anything.”

“Hang on we’re dating?”

“Well, no but nobody can make a move on you. If they do they’ll get beat up by my people...”

Weird to think this was the real world and not kinder garden, then again the guy next to you probably witnessed some killings and torturing, hell he might’ve killed someone. You do hope nobody on your work starts flirting with you now though.

You felt kind of stupid that all of this is restraining your life. But then again it has been for who knows how long and you hadn’t even noticed. 

“Can I ask something though? Why didn’t you like inform me about this?”

“I believed that you’d stay out of Jet grounds after my talk so I didn’t worry too much.”

“But what if I started dating someone?”

He sighed for a second

“I just hoped it wouldn’t happen okay?”

Minghao looked down from embarrassment until you laid your hand on his thigh

When he lifted up his head you both instantly locked eyes, you felt there was some kind of sexual tention

You then looked down at his lips, you saw him doing the same

Before you knew it, you were both leaning in 

Minghao cupped your face with one hand, he took initiative and kissed you

The kiss was long but sweet, your lips were tingling of sensation

“Dinner’s ready!- Oh. Oh sorry leaving.” 

Way to ruin the mood... and your first impression with his dad

“You staying over for dinner then I guess?” 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*  Part 4  ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Masterlist

[bigbangenthusiast]

I saw your post regarding the prompts and it reminded me to give you one. It would be lovely if you're willing to write number 68 since I love all kinds of hippy-dippy things. Take your time and love your works!

Thank you, anon. Have a great day 😃

Sheldon stared at the ring box in his hand. What had gone wrong? He replayed his conversation with Amy in his mind. She found their relationship emotionally and physically challenging. Why? He had recently proclaimed his love for her and was much better with physical contact. Sure, he still had a long way to go, but he was improving. It didn’t make sense.

He had come up with the perfect plan to propose to her. It was their fifth year anniversary. What better day to propose than on the date they first met? Even he knew that was romantic. He had spent all afternoon preparing a home cooked meal with all of Amy’s favorite foods. Next they watched one of her favorite romantic French films. She had rested her head on his shoulder, and he didn’t shy away as he once would have. Then they had made out like randy teenagers.

Everything was going according to plan until he began his proposal speech. He had rehearsed it in his mind for a week. Not once did mirage Amy get upset. Yet when he spoke the words aloud to real Amy, she didn’t even let him finish and took offence. Going all in for a long-running TV show was a brilliant metaphor for marriage. If only she had let him continue to that part.

He was going to try again during their video chat, but that didn’t go as planned either. She told him she needed time to reevaluate their situation. How much time? An hour? A day? Certainly not a month?

He sighed and carefully placed the ring box back in his desk drawer. What was his next move? “Think, Cooper,” he instructed himself.

Both times he had tried to propose, she had cut him off. Maybe what he should have done was continue despite her protests. That was it! He slipped his arms into his jacket, pocketed the ring, and hightailed it to the bus stop. He needed to see her before it was too late.

He stood next to the bus shelter, constantly consulting his watch. At this time of night, the buses were running less often, and he cursed their altered schedule. Every second of waiting felt like another jab to his heart. He couldn’t wait any longer. He needed to see Amy now. Finally his ride arrived. Never in his life had he been so relieved to use a mode of public transportation that wasn’t a train. He barely noticed the sites of Pasadena whirring by, as images of Amy occupied his mind. If he concentrated hard enough, he could still feel her hands on his shoulders and her lips on his. Barely more than a day had passed, and already he missed her presence so deeply, like a papercut to his heart.

After what felt like an eternity, he reached his stop. His heart raced, from exertion and fear, as he ran the block to his girlfriend’s building, up the steps, to the elevator. He pressed the ‘Up’ button and tapped his foot as the seconds ticked by. What was taking so long? How many people were even awake at this hour? The stairs would be quicker. He turned around just as the elevator dinged, signaling its arrival.

He got in and sagged against the wall, as the car slowly crept up to the second floor then sighed in relief when it didn’t stop and continued to the floor he needed. The third floor. Amy’s floor. His long legs strode toward apartment 314. He stopped in front of her door and stared at the number. All it needed was a decimal point after the 3 to make it pi, his favorite irrational number. Why hadn’t he noticed that before? Maybe that was his problem with Amy. He didn’t take enough notice of her. Well, that would change tonight, if she was willing to hear him out.

He stretched his arm out and made a fist then pulled it back. What if Amy refused to come to the door if she knew it was him? As much as it killed him to do it, he would have to forgo his usual triple knock. He rapped on the door four times and willed himself not to call her name.

Not a sound came from within the apartment. She was probably sleeping. He knocked again, harder this time, and was rewarded with the sound of her footsteps then the click of the deadbolt. The door creaked open, and there she was, dressed in a floor-length white flannel nightgown.

They stared at each other wordlessly, and he studied her face. Her normally sweet, angelic face was replaced with puffy red-rimmed eyes and her mouth widened in an ‘O’ shape. The shock was finally replaced with another expression, one he knew well - anger.

“Sheldon, what are you doing here?” She demanded.

“I need to talk with you.”

“And I told you I needed time to think.”

“Amy…”

“Sheldon, please don’t make this harder than it already is.” Tears threatened to fall. She blinked them back, but one slithered down her cheek.

“Amy, please don’t cry. I think there’s been a misunderstanding. Can I come in?”

She looked at him, then over her shoulder to the interior of her apartment, her eyes finally resting on his. She swallowed hard. “I think it’s best if you don’t. Whatever you need to say, you can say it here.”

His face fell. He had hoped they could sit on her couch, drink a cup of tea, as they had so many times before, but at least she was willing to listen. He tried reading her expression. She looked… annoyed? He wished he was better at reading facial cues. Maybe he should just start.

“Amy, I’m not sure what happened yesterday to cause you to become so angry with me. Please tell me what I did wrong.”

“I’m angry with you because you value TV shows more than you value me.”

“That is not true.”

“Really? Because it sure felt that way to me. I was ecstatic that we were making out. I thought our relationship had finally progressed, but I was wrong. You weren’t even thinking of me. You were just going through the motions, but your mind wasn’t there. Instead of focusing on the moment, you were thinking of your dopey superheroes.” She blinked her eyes several times.

“Amy, that’s not what happened. I was thinking about you, about us. I was seguing into my speech about how committed I am to you.”

“What does The Flash TV show have to do with your commitment to me?”

“It was supposed to be perfect,” he mumbled.

She furrowed her brow. “What?”

“Amy…” he took a step closer, and she took one back.

“I can’t do this. I’m sorry, Sheldon. I need more time.” She grabbed the doorknob and pulled, but he wedged his body in the doorframe.

“Sheldon, you need to leave,” she commanded.

“I need to say something first.”

“If this is about The Flash, I don’t want to hear it.”

“It’s not,” he promised. “Amy, I love you, and I know you still love me. No one can turn those feelings off so quickly. I need you in my life, and you need me in yours. You know we’re supposed to be together. I knew it the first time I saw you, and you know it, too. I know you do.”

He paused and anxiously watched the various emotions cross her face. If only he could interpret what she was feeling.

“Do you really mean that?” She finally asked.

“Of course. You know I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true.”

Without breaking eye contact, she took a step forward and tentatively touched his arm. “I feel the same way,” she murmured.

He closed the gap and engulfed her in his arms. “So you’ll take me back?”

“Yes,” she sniffled.

He blinked back the moisture in his eyes. “I love you, Amy Farrah Fowler.”“I love you too. I’m sorry had doubts. In my heart I’ve always known how you feel about me, but my insecurities needed confirmation.”

“I know I don’t always say it or show it, but it’s the truth. I promise I’ll be a better man for you.”

To prove his point, he lowered his head and touched his lips to hers. As the kiss became more heated, he pulled her closer, his hands running down her arms, under her chocolate tresses.

When they finally came up for air, he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead then took a small step back. “I should let you get back to sleep.”

“Sheldon, it’s really late. Stay here tonight.” His eyes widened in fear. “I’ll make up the couch.”

His body relaxed. “If you’re sure that won’t be an imposition.”

“Not at all.”

He followed her in and waited by the couch as she went in search of a spare blanket and pillow. He didn’t have any pajamas, but he could remove his jacket to obtain at least a little comfort. When he slipped his arms out and hung it on the back of the couch, a soft thud caught his attention. He scooped up the small, black velvet box. Tonight wasn’t the time. He would wait for another perfect opportunity, but there was something else he could do to confirm his commitment. He slipped the box back in his pocket just in time.

“The blanket’s a little musty from sitting in the closet,” she apologized.

“Actually, I was wondering if I could… that is if you don’t mind…”

“What’s wrong?” She asked gently.

“I wouldn’t object to sharing your bed tonight, if you’re okay with it.”

“Really?”

“Not for coital activity, just sleeping,” he clarified.

“S… sure,” she stuttered. “I… I would love that.”

The tiny smile she gave him melted his heart. He reached for her hand as she led him to her sleeping quarters. Was he nervous? Maybe a little, but he also felt comforted and loved as they snuggled together under the blanket. He would never take her for granted again. She deserved to always feel what he felt right now. He slung his arm over her waist and breathed in the familiar scent of her shampoo. Being here with Amy felt right. It felt like home.