#chris is still without his ponytail here

[diana-bluewolf]

@traceyc-uk, our disaster duo is hanging out.

Tangerin Prefect William belongs to @lil-grem-draws Aww, look at this frown. They grow up so fast <3

[chriseatingmeoutin4k]

“atta girl”

warnings: smut,oral m!recieving, cursing, smut, porn without plot, hair pulling, cum eating, purposeful lowercase, i think that’s it

chris sturniolo x reader

“we can go slow, it’s okay,” his eyes were hungry but warm. you nodded and sank to your knees., he unbuckles his belt, unzipped his jeans, and let go. they rested at his feet. he pulled his boxers down and his hard cock sprang up. your eyes widened at the sight and he smirked at your nervousness. how were you gonna fit that in your throat? “you got it babe.” you took his words and turned it into confidence. holding his legs with your hands and kitty licking the glistening precum off of his tip. it tasted sour. it tasted good. he whimpered at the contact, and his eyes squeezed shut at the feeling of your lips wrapping around his tip. “yeah you got it baby keep goin” chris murmured, his big hands making their way to your hair, collecting it into a makeshift ponytail. you gathered the courage to take his further, and began sliding your tongue along his length, bringing your hands up to delicately feel along the parts that werent in your mouth yet. “you wanna take more ma?” chris groaned out. you nodded and took him until his tip was tapping the back of your throat, and you sucked and licked and bobbed your head. your eyes watered and drool dripped out of your mouth but all you could focus on was his whimpering figure. “shit. a-atta girl” he murmured. you moaned onto him and chris groaned and shoved himself down your throat, his control over his desire breaking. you shifted on your knees, looking for some friction for the throbbing between your legs. your scalp was burning but it felt oh so good. when you moaned he moaned, the vibrations traveling through the two of you. “i-i’m close, where do you w-want it?” you let out a whine, signaling you wanting to swallow. you wanted to taste him again. he muttered your name over and over beathily, and you felt his cock twitch and warm ropes of cum shot down your throat. you milked him dry, every last drop a wonder to your taste buds. he was still trembling when you pulled off of his with a pop. you stuck out your tongue to show his you swallowed all of him.

“good girl”

©chriseatingmeoutin4k

reblogs, likes, and comments are not expected but are always appreciated!

please dont reupload my work on here or other platform!

[lilsoftext]

•~* HEATED GLANCES *~•

-chris sturniolo x female reader

-summery: jealousy on the stream

——————————————————————————

Chris and Matt were in the middle of a live stream, the banter flowing easily between them as they engaged with their fans. They sat side by side, gaming controllers in hand, talking to the chat while they played Call of Duty. The stream had already been going on for about an hour, and thousands of fans were tuned in, excited to watch the brothers compete against each other.

Everything seemed normal until the door creaked open behind them. Chris’s focus shifted instantly as Sof walked into the room, fresh from the gym. She wore black gym shorts and a black t-shirt, her skin still glowing from the workout, and her horse necklace—the one she got from her childhood friend—glistened against her chest. Her long hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and her bloody red nails stood out as she brushed a few loose strands of hair behind her ear.

Chris smiled immediately. His entire mood lifted the moment he saw her. “Hey, Sof,” he said, standing up from his chair without hesitation. He walked over and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in for a kiss. The chat went wild, spamming hearts and excited messages like “CHRIS AND SOF!!!” and “WE LOVE SOF!”

Sof returned his kiss, her arms draped around his shoulders as she smiled. “Hey, babe. How’s the stream going?” she asked, her voice soft and breathless from the workout.

Chris grinned at her, his hands resting on her hips. “It’s better now that you’re here.”

But as Sof smiled and stepped back, Chris noticed something off. Matt hadn’t said anything. Instead, he was staring at Sof in a way that made Chris uneasy. His eyes lingered a little too long, and Chris felt a small spark of jealousy flare up inside him.

“Hey, Sof,” Matt finally said, standing up and walking over. He gave her a hug too, his arms wrapping around her waist for just a moment longer than necessary. “Good to see you.”

Sof hugged him back casually, unaware of the tension between the brothers. “Good to see you too, Matt. What are you guys doing on stream tonight?”

“Just the usual,” Chris replied, though he couldn’t stop himself from glancing at Matt. His brother’s gaze hadn’t left Sof, and it was starting to irritate him.

Sof stayed in the room for a few more minutes, laughing and chatting with the two brothers before she excused herself. “I’m gonna go shower,” she said with a smile. She turned and left the room, her scent of sweat and perfume lingering as she walked away.

Both Chris and Matt watched her leave. But while Chris’s gaze was filled with love, Matt’s seemed different—more lingering, more intense.

As soon as Sof left the room, Chris sat back down in his chair, trying to refocus on the game. But he could feel the tension rising in his chest. He tried to ignore it, but Matt wasn’t making it easy.

As the stream continued, Matt cracked a joke—something harmless and about the game. But Chris couldn’t stop the irritation that had been bubbling inside him. “Yeah,” Chris muttered, his voice sharper than it had been all night, “so funny when two brothers like the same girl.”

Matt’s face froze. He stared at Chris, his hands hovering over his controller. “W-What do you mean?”

Chris didn’t answer right away. Instead, he reached over and muted the microphone, making sure the stream couldn’t hear what he was about to say. Then he turned to Matt, his eyes narrowed with barely contained jealousy. “You need to stop looking at Sof like you want her.”

Matt blinked, clearly caught off guard by the sudden confrontation. “Chris, what are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Chris snapped, his voice low but dangerous. “Every time Sof’s around, you can’t keep your eyes off her. It’s like… I don’t know, like you’re into her or something.”

Matt leaned back, a defensive tone creeping into his voice. “Dude, you’re overreacting. Sof and I are just friends. I wasn’t looking at her like that.”

“Yes, you were,” Chris shot back, his hands clenching around his controller. “It’s been happening for a while now, and I’m sick of it. She’s my girlfriend, Matt. Mine.”

Matt sighed, rubbing his temples as if he was trying to stay calm. “Chris, I swear, I wasn’t trying to make it weird. Sof’s great, but—”

“Don’t,” Chris interrupted, his voice hard. “Just don’t.”

Matt didn’t say anything after that, clearly realizing that this wasn’t a fight he was going to win. The tension between them was thick, and the atmosphere in the room had become stifling.

After another thirty minutes of strained gaming and awkward silences, they ended the stream. Chris didn’t bother saying goodbye to the audience like he usually would. Instead, he immediately stood up and headed toward his bedroom, his heart pounding with frustration and jealousy.

He opened the door to find Sof just stepping out of the bathroom, wrapped in a white towel. Her skin was still damp, and her hair fell in wet waves around her shoulders. The sight of her made Chris’s heart skip a beat, and all the frustration he had been holding onto melted away.

Without saying a word, Chris walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close. He buried his face in her neck, breathing in the fresh scent of her shampoo and letting his hands run up and down her back.

“Chris?” Sof asked, her voice filled with surprise. “What’s going on? You okay?”

Chris didn’t answer right away. Instead, he tightened his grip around her, his heart aching with a mix of jealousy and love. “I just… I needed to hold you.”

Sof’s expression softened as she ran her fingers through his hair. “Chris, what’s wrong?”

He pulled back slightly, his eyes locking with hers. “It’s Matt. He’s been acting weird around you, and it’s been bothering me for a while. Tonight, on stream… it felt like he couldn’t stop staring at you. Like he wants you.”

Sof blinked in surprise, clearly taken aback. “Chris, Matt’s your brother. He wouldn’t—”

“I know what I saw,” Chris interrupted, his voice trembling with emotion. “I don’t like it, Sof. I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

Sof sighed softly, pulling him closer as she kissed his forehead. “Chris, you don’t have to worry about Matt. He’s your brother. I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it.”

Chris shook his head, his grip tightening around her waist. “I don’t know, Sof. I just… I get so jealous sometimes. The thought of someone else wanting you…”

Sof smiled gently, brushing her fingers against his cheek. “Chris, you’re the only one I want. You know that, right?”

He nodded, though the jealousy still lingered in the back of his mind. “I know. I just don’t want to lose you.”

Sof leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips, her hands cupping his face. “You won’t. I’m yours, Chris. No one else.”

Chris felt the tension begin to ease as he kissed her back, their lips moving together slowly, tenderly. When they pulled apart, Sof gave him a reassuring smile. “Come on. Let’s just go to bed.”

He nodded, feeling more at ease as they climbed into bed together. Sof lay on her back, and Chris immediately wrapped himself around her, resting his head on her chest. He could hear her heartbeat, slow and steady, and it calmed him down more than anything else could.

They lay there in comfortable silence for a while, Chris’s arms wrapped around her protectively as he whispered, “I love you, Sof.”

“I love you too,” Sof whispered back, stroking his hair softly. “Don’t worry about Matt, okay? It’s just you and me.”

Chris nodded, letting himself relax against her. Slowly but surely, the jealousy faded away as they cuddled up together. As he drifted off to sleep, Chris felt an overwhelming sense of peace wash over him. With Sof in his arms, nothing else mattered.

Tomorrow, he’d deal with Matt. But tonight, all that mattered was that Sof was his. And nothing—no one—could change that.

——————————————————————————

i hope you enjoyed it. if you have any request, leave them down below.

lilsoftext <3



[chansbabygirlsstuff]

Just a bet Chapter 12

You wake up in your bed, a blanket covering your torso.

you grab your phone looking at the time 7:26 am 

shit.

you get up from bed immediately looking for clothes to shower and change to as your class starts at 8 am

you get out of your room and run towards the shower with everything in your hand.

you get your hair done and fit done as well, you wear baggy jeans and a tight crop top with sleeves and a loose ponytail 

you make your way to the living room to go out of the house but see Chan in the kitchen cooking something that smells really good 

"good morning" he says 

"hi, good morning," you say trying to rush towards the front door and putting your shoes on 

"are you going to have breakfast?" he offers what he is making

"Oh" you feel bad "I usually don't have breakfast Chan and Im running late is 7:41 and classes start at 8 and the bus ride to is always 15- 20 minutes to school"

"It doesn't matter come and have breakfast, breakfast is the most important meal of the day, so please sit down have some food and I will drive you"

"but you don't have classes until 10 right?" you asked concerned about making him waste gas

"yeah don't worry about it, we are near school anyways " You nod and sit down to share breakfast with him

He serves your eggs, bacon, and toast with jam, you thank him for the food and start eating with him, sitting on opposite sides of the small table with no small talk but just listening to the cars passing by and birds chirping near the kitchen window. 

"what's your first class?" he asks you taking the conversation 

"Criminal justice course" you roll your eyes

he chuckles "Why don't you like that class?" he asks

"don't get me wrong I do enjoy it but the teacher is a pervert so it's  very uncomfortable to be in his class" 

"oh well he is full of shit then," he says getting on your side and you nod 

you get up and thank him for the food, wash your dish, and rush to the bathroom to brush your teeth, you grab your bag and head to the door to see Chris with both keys in his hands and a beanie on his head

"ready?"  he asks you as you nod and get out so he can lock his apartment 

you get in the car and wait for him to start the car, but before  that, he puts some music on, some  R&B to start as you start to vibe to SZA, you see that we get close to school 

"Can I ask you something?" you ask him

"yeah of course" he answers you 

"I didn't get to finish my ice cream last night"

he laughs through his smile

"yeah I had to throw it away but there is more in the freezer" he assures me about my concern 

"Did I fall asleep on the couch?" I try to get the tea out of why I was in my bed this morning

"yeah you did, but no worries" he smiles

"then why was I on my bed this morning?" I ask knowing well the goddamn answer but wanting to get the answer out of him to confirm my beliefs 

"Oh, I took you to your room, i hope that didn't make you uncomfortable" he smiles shyly as his cheeks paint a nice shade of light pink 

"oh don't worry then" I pause "but thank you actually, it's really fine so don't worry about it" Now I'm the one who gets shy and looks away towards the window 

"ok cool" The shade of pink slowly fades his cheeks but it's still visible 

the ride was silent until you noticed something

"you can drop me off here, it's fine," you say pointing to the bus stop near the school 

"Why? Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?"

"No! it's actually the opposite" you start your sentence loudly not wanting him to get the wrong idea 

"I don't care," he says in a chill way and continues driving without a care in the world  

damn... fucking butterflies again 

you get to the front of the school and he parks right in front to make it easy for you to get out of the car.

"Thanks, Chris I really appreciate it"You smile at him getting your bag from the back seat and putting it on your shoulders while he watches you move but suddenly you both jump from an unexpected knock at your side of the window

it was Hyun-jin, he waves at you and Chan; then points toward you and then towards Chan, and then shrugs his shoulder in a way of asking why I was in the car with him, your eyes widen hoping that he didn't get the wrong impression of the situation 

You thank him once more before opening the door and leaving while Hyunjin just stares at you entering the building without even saying hi to him.

Chans POV

Hyunjin gets in the car sitting sideways towards my way 

"What was that about?" he asked me wiggling his eyebrows 

I chuckle at his bulshit

"Did it finally happen? how was it~" he teases

"nothing happened Hyunjin, she just needed a ride and I saw her down the street and offered a ride, that's it" lying not knowing how comfortable she is letting people know she is living with me 

"yeah that's bullshit, I don't believe you" he glares at me feeling that I didn't give him a truthful answer 

"Whatever man get out of my car" I smile/smirk at his foolishness as he sticks his tongue out and gets out of the car before telling me

"you better tell me the truth later Christopher" he warns me before I drive away leaving him standing there like an idiot.

time skip

I get home clean the kitchen and prepare myself for my classes that start at 10.

I get to the shower and it smells just like flowers, maybe it's her shampoo

it smelled nice and not bad at all,

I get to the shower and turn on the warm water feeling it hit my warm body, I wet my hair and get shampoo on my hand to rub my hair, I suddenly remember the conversation that we had in the car, and how cute she was all concerned about her strawberry ice cream remembering how I hold her to take her to her room last night and how she clunge onto me but still not waking up.

feeling guilty about how I didn't say anything about last night's incident, of how I was placing her in her bed and her shirt accidentally slipping up towards her neck giving me a full view of her breasts, they were small but round and looked soft with her small brown nipples all perch up

fuck...

I feel myself getting hard on the image of her breast, yeah I feel like an ashole but it wasn't my fault, it was like nature did it on purpose and wanted me to look at them, so I grab my cock and start slowly stroking it up and down, imagining it was her doing it, shit she was pretty hot, and those tops she wears making her small breast make a lovely appearance with her body, I start fucking my fist faster, my breathing getting heavier as I use my other hand to support myself against the wall, thinking about her beautiful round lips and how she licked her ice cream last night.

Her beautiful round ass in that skirt she wore at the party and how it gave me more space to appreciate those thick thighs and long legs

"fuck" I whisper as I feel myself getting closer, I pump myself faster and tighten my hand around myself, and whimpers start to leave my mouth.

I know this is a dick move but shit does it feel good and her body God the body. my cock starts twitching in my hand as long white ropes of come stick to the wall, and a long moan leaves my mouth 

"fucking shit" I pant as I calm down from my high

I clean the wall and finish washing myself up, trying to ignore what just happened and feeling like  I  need more than just my hand in this moment 

I get ready and drive my car to school to start my classes like a normal person trying to survive this fucked up world.

Request open

taglist: @salfetkablog @foivestarrsketchez @stayceebs97 @strayywayy @oddracha @Darthmaddie25

[or-echo]

When I first drew that JC reference like three months ago, I didn't really expect that I'd turn it into a full *project,* but here we are anyways lol. I also didn't expect to draw Alex, let alone redesign her! But that's a long-ish story. All of them are relatively janky looking in their own right, but they're all just personal reference points so who cares.

Since this isn't exactly a *thrilling* artwork and I'm a little low on ideas for funnier/more engaging stuff, I think I'll do a little analysis on each design. Some cross between analysis and personal interpretation. Also explaining the intention behind the Alex redesign, since it's a departure from the original.

FOR PAUL;

Most of the visual interest in his design comes from the trench coat. Most evident when you *take* it from him. He looks almost bare without it. A lot of it may be the lack of the purple in his design; my hypothesis is that his design manages to be so eye-catching through a relatively successful triadic color scheme. Purple, green, and orange (brown, but it's a dark orange, in this case). Usually, triadic schemes are best used for their sharp contrast, but that's not the case for Paul. His design may not be outright *eye catching* but it is unique and will draw the eye, mostly due to the low saturation of his color palette. The colors don't fight or pop out too much. They share emphasis.

A funny side note- Paul's eyes are not the same as JC's, which I didn't realize until I colored him in properly. His eyes sit on a darker blue base- the bright blue, which IS the same as JC's, takes the place of the pupil. Meanwhile, JC's pupil is an even lighter blue.

Drawn at approximately 5'11.

FOR JC (male);

JC's outfit is undeniably a ripoff of Blade (1998), therefore, the best means to distinguish the two is through color palettes. JC gets to have his cold, moody colors, but they're not completely *dark.* Where Blade wears black, JC wears blue. Dark blues (mostly), but still blues nonetheless.

I took a few liberties with JC. I didn't quite like the look of the leg straps (and then I gave them to Alex- oops) so I replaced them with leg pouches instead. Better for storage & the tactical look JC is going for.

I also toyed with the idea of changing his hairstyle to a short one, but thought I'd keep the slicked back hair because I like the idea of him taking inspiration from his older brother. After all, the Deus Ex Bible said he admired him greatly when he was younger; the whole secret agent deal. I like to attribute the very 'action hero' look to that idealization as well. JC as a character is very idealistic, almost- if not outright- naive. His picture of the world is more fiction than reality until the events of the narrative rip it from him- or at least, that's what I interpreted. Compare him to Paul, who has a much simpler, more practical design. Aside from the embellishments on the trenchcoat, Paul looks extremely normal. Meanwhile, JC sticks out quite a lot.

The boots were fully improvised. I had no clue what was going on in the texture and couldn't find a reference I liked.

Headcanon name for him is James Chris because I like how it sounds. :) I only remembered that James Bond exists AFTER I thought of it and couldn't find a name I liked better.

Drawn at approximately 5'11.

FOR JC (FEMALE)

Drew her shortly after I played the Lay D. Denton mod for the first time. I was so inspired that I *had* to make my own design for her. I love the idea of a female JC.

I did take some liberties from the mod's design, though. I returned her widow's peak, for one. One of the odd tidbits I remember from biology class was that widow's peaks are a dominant genetic trait, so even if she *wasn't* a clone of Paul, the chances of her having one would still be 50% at minimum. As for her hairstyle overall, I thought I'd let it be loose but still slicked back- reminiscent of her male counterpart. JC struck me as the type to keep her hair short rather than put it into a bun or ponytail. More convenient overall. Not a buzz cut- since male JC didn't get one either- but still above the shoulders.

I also removed the nail polish. It's an idea I love for a secret agent of her type, but I just don't get the idea that she'd wear it from her personality (+ refer to the bit about JC's 'tactical look'). It would suit someone like Navarre better in my opinon, showing efficiency in her job- that she's so good she wouldn't need to worry about chipping a nail as well as the fact that she has time to re-paint them. Unfortunately, Navarre has cybernetic arms. Maybe she can paint her nails anyways- don't know.

Ditto for the lipstick.

I removed the stiletto heel- though that's not the fault of the mod. They had to use a generic model & re-texture it for her design, after all. I did, however, let her have about a ~2 inch heel. Nothing *too* obscene. More of just a reference.

The vest is modeled on one I saw online that I liked the look of.

Headcanon name for her is Joan because I've loved the name 'Joan' as long as I've been listening to Joan Jett's music. Kept Chris because I like the sound of it as a gender neutral name.

Drawn at approximately 5'6, with 2 inch heels to make her 5'8.

FOR ALEX:

Hers is somewhat of a story.

I was considering making this into a full Denton lineup- as I now have- but thought it would be incomplete without Alex. Issue is that I don't especially like Alex's design all that much, male OR female, but female especially. That's when I thought to redesign her. Side note, I went w/ female Alex because I liked the voice performance better + I just like the idea :)

It spiraled from there, starting as a design more consistent with the other Dentons (one of the gripes I have w/ the original design), into a rewrite. So I wouldn't say that this is by *any* means the same Alex as Invisible War.

Given that it's relevant to the design, the premise is as follows; rather than being Alex 20 years in the future, this Alex would instead be the one found in Area 51, the one who was retconned out of the story. The intention behind that setpiece in the level always interested me a lot, whether or not it was later retconned. The idea of accelerated clone growth + memory implantation also caught my eye, and I wanted to use her to explore all of those things a little more. Therefore, that would be her function. The Dentons are prototypes, after all. She exists in an alternate world, a take on the scrapped UNATCO route everyone wonders about, though it would differ in the sense that it only happens if JC fails the Lebedev mission. Paul goes fully MIA, and Alex is deployed early to fill the empty space. Without having led a full life & full outside control over her memories, she'd be a complete UNATCO zealot; what MJ12 wanted JC to be. There's more detail than that, but that's about what's necessary for the design to make sense.

It's a blend of the other Dentons & prominent UNATCO figures. She has the same physical features as her siblings- same face, same approximate build, same nanoaugmentations, so on. Her clothes, however, are meant to resemble the mech-augs more than it does the Dentons. Where the Dentons wear looser clothing, Alex's is more form fitting, akin to Anna Navarre & Gunther, even if she has no cybernetic joints that loose fabric could get caught in. It's meant to reinforce the idea of her loyalty to UNATCO rather than anything else.

The jacket is meant to resemble the Dentons, however. Even then, it's cropped because she wouldn't necessarily be a "full" Denton (for lack of a better term) or share a true connection with them beyond genetics.

As for color scheme, it follows that pattern. She relies on a black base more than her siblings do, again akin to the mech-augs. The prominent blue is meant to be similar to JC's, but it's also worth mentioning that JC and Paul (Paul especially) have much more of a green tint than what I selected for her. Alex's is more metallic, once again to mimic Navarre & Gunther. Still, she is a Denton, fully manufactured or not, so the blue of her design is meant to be more prominent & full than it is with the mech-augs.

The hair gave me some trouble. It's meant to be the same-ish style as the Alex of Invisible War, but I'm ngl I was struggling to draw it. I had also wanted to give her some kind of facial accessory- Paul has a beard, JC has his sunglasses, but I couldn't find something for Alex. I didn't like the look of a facemask or gasmask- I also considered goggles, but they would be too reminiscent of JC's shades while also being made redundant by her augmentations. In the end, I left her face as-is.

Drawn at approximately 5'6, with 1 inch heels to make her 5'7.

Anyways, I made an Invisible War version of the lineup too for fun, and because I wanted to see what the Alex design would look like with the original purple look. :)

isn't character design fun

[treasar]

Chapter 5 | Finally |

No way... Is that Jungwon?

It is a peaceful night as chilly winds are present like a wave of the ocean, calm yet fresh. A strand of her hair flies in the air with the help of a gentle breeze while she is zoning out. 

It’s thrice, visiting this field with a high hope of meeting the boys. But, unfortunately, luck is not in her hands. She starts to lose hope. Sometimes, her mind is telling her that what she can do is nothing.

She is forever trapped in this world… 

However, she keeps pushing herself not to give up. At Alteast there is a 1% that she will successfully finish her task and then, go to her home.

 Somehow, she feels like this night view is cheering her, giving her strength. She starts to like this place not as a place where she will meet the boys. But as a place where she can make her mind fresh. 

Tomorrow is the day she is going to move to her not-so-new school. She doesn’t know whether she is going to meet them or not. What she knows is that she has to try her best there more. 

Sure, she is excited about going there but, what if…

What if there are boys….?

Or maybe even Sooha? 

The war will soon break out for sure… 

Between the first vampires and that idiot vampire, Chris…

Then, what will happen to her?

Will she be at the academy? Or… what else? 

The sound of opening the gate snaps her out of her thought. Then, a pair of feet appear in front of her as she is near it. What a relief is that she is hiding behind the benchers so the comer can’t see her. 

She glances at her watch before gazing at that person. It’s almost past 12 p.m. That person sure must be the guard since no one is allowed to go out. 

A huge yet thin coat is hanging on his shoulder but, his hair… is oddly familiar to her. It’s like something inside her mind clicks that function her brain to recognise who that person is.

A wave of surprise and disbelief rushes through her body, rubbing her eyes harshly to make sure that person is him or not. “ No way… “ She whispers, still disbelieving.

She hurriedly shows up not wanting to make the same mistake as she did in her dream. “ Jungwon, is that you? “ She calls out as that person halts his step. 

She can’t even describe what she is feeling as nervousness, relief and something more rushing up. 

Those green eyes glance at her, which are perfectly paired up with his light grey hair, which honestly she thought was white. His tiny ponytail is making his hairstyle better. A strand of his hair fell on his tiny forehead, appearing his look more.

“ Handsome and intelligent “ is not enough to describe him. He is too looking for a common human with his attractive look. Moreover, she’s finally found one of them. 

“ I am sorry. I think you got the wrong person. “ Confused is written all over his face. That’s when it clicks to her that he is not Jungwon “ Oh, sorry. You look like a friend of mine. “ She nervously grins. 

Without getting a reply, he leaves, making the girl stunned. “ Wow, that’s a bit… rude. “ She frowns, watching his figure till it disappears from her sight. 

_

“ I am happy to hear that you are the one who is moving here. “ a woman, who guide her when she first arrives here, says. Alex chooses to stay quiet as she doesn’t know how to respond. 

“ I suppose you don’t need me to show you around, do you? “ The woman stops, and so does the girl as Alex nods in agreement. “ Alright then, I will be going now. Hope you will have a great first day here. “ The woman sweetly smiles at her.

Alex returns the smile. “ Thanks in advance, ma’am. Have a nice day! “ She bows. “ You too, Alex! “ The woman waves before leaving. 

She breathes in heavily as soon as she is in her new room. “ It’s so tiring. “ She pops down on the floor like a zombie. 

It’s currently 12 p.m. She had to continue her study there before moving here. So, no rest time is available for her. What she’s thankful for is that her classmates were bidding her sweetly along with her teachers. She felt like she is moving abroad for further study. 

Now, she can take a short nap or maybe a long one before starting her first day of school here. However, the coziness is helping her as her eyes become heavy. 

She doesn’t remember how long she falls asleep. But, a certain knock wakes her up from her deep sleep. When she glances at the clock, it’s saying sharp three. 

‘ Who can be here at this time? ‘ She groans, trying to ignore it but, the sound becomes louder and louder. So, she has to drag herself before approaching the door with heavy steps. 

“ I am coming! “ She shouts as the knock seems like it won’t stop until she responds. “ How can I help you? “ She peeks through the door with a tiny little bit of messy hair without opening it widely.

“ Oh, Alex. I am sorry if I disturb you. “ It is the woman, who sent her here. “ Hello, ma’am, “ Alex greets while fixing her hair with a paint of red on her cheek, embarrassment. 

“ Actually, I need you to do me a favour. “ The woman says. “ What is it, ma’am? “ She replies right away. “ Could you please show her around the school since she’s just moved here if you don’t mind? “ 

“ Sure, ma’am! “ She says without looking at the newbie. “ But, ma’am, you know… “ She comes closer to the woman. “ I’ve just moved here too. “ 

“ Oh, it’s totally fine. Everyone here knows that you are that girl. “ She whispers back. “ If you say so, I will help her, ma’am. “ She whispers back. 

“ Good! “ The woman commands. “ The girl here is going to be your new roommate and your senior. “ She states. 

“ She is Alex! “ The woman brings the newbie’s attention. “ Hello, it’s nice to meet you. I am Alex! Hope we can be friends. “ She sweetly smiles. 

“ Hello, the name is Sooha. “ That girl’s comment widens the girl’s eyes. ‘ Sooha…? ‘ 

She immediately looks up, changing her 90-degree position. Those familiar pink eyes are already looking at her with a hint of nothingness but, cold and sadness. 

The real Sooha, the princess and the main character of this story is standing in front of her.

The whole tour is so quiet that the sound of non-existing pin-dropping can be heard. Whenever Alex tries to start the chat, Sooha would always answer shortly as if she is not interested in it. 

Awakand and nervousness are the only feelings, that are presented in her. 

The trailing edge of the sun slowly disappears below the western horizon, indicating that the night is going to shine. Not too soon, countless stars and moon fill the dusk sky. 

She didn’t think that Sooha would be totally different from the original story. The mentioned girl is looking around but, not her as if she is a ghost. 

“ Senior, let’s stop our tour here. If you have questions, you can ask me. “ She gives her a small smile. “ Of course, thank you. “ She says shyly for the first time. 

“ Please call me by my name. You know senior sounds a bit… “ She scrubs her head out of nervousness. “ I am sorry if I act rude and cold. It’s just that I am not used to it. “ She lowers her gaze. “ It may sound weird. “ She whispers.

That’s when it clicks her. Sooha is not being treated friendly by others except Chris since she was young. “ It’s totally fine, Sooha. “ A genius smile assures Sooha. 

“Let’s be friends, Alex. “She smiles. 

_   

a/n: hey guysss, it's a short one for today! Hope you guys enjoy it! relogging and like are appreciated! If you guys want to help me choose the title for this story here!

[m0cha-m0ch1]

An attempt at making a silly bbieal au

The player (you) is placed in a school house, trapped with the test subjects. WiLl yOu maKe iT oUt aLiVe??

_______________________

Some info of some characters-

The school house is where the test subjects stay- of coouurrseee :)

Test subject #004;

Baldi Baldimore (Blake)-

He acts like regular Baldi but has a few differences like darker skin tone, he looks tired all the time, has a right mechanical arm, and a left mechanical leg, also an eye patch on the right. He seems to like to drink coffee

( He lost his eye, leg and arm after failing to capture the player as punishment. Also placed a tracker on him, and a shock collar just in case if he ever tries to escape or misbehave. ) >:[

He also has a craving for human flesh, seems like the little test worked. Whenever the player gets injured, he can smell the blood from the other side of the school house making it impossible to get away from #004, there is a way to make him snap out of his cannibalistic state; by spraying him with the B-soda, seems to work. I have placed 4 first aid kits around the school house for the player to find, though it'll be impossible to find them without running into the other test subjects.

After the player finds the correct key, #004 will enter an aggressive state chasing the player. B-Soda will not make him snap out of it, but it will slow him down for a few seconds.

Test subject #005;

The Principal of the thing (Chris)-

Like the same as #004 he acts like the regular Principal, also having a few differences. Lighter skin tone, longer hair which is always in a low ponytail, glasses and has baby blue pupils in his eyes. His eyes are black because of a slight malfunction in the lab, though #005 seems to function perfectly fine though he's kinda blind.

(He does his job pretty well, always catching the player whenever they break the rules. Very determined to catch them, he'll never stop following them until he's caught the player. Very impressive )

con is whenever he loses his glasses it makes his job way more harder. His eyes also seem to drip a black liquid substance whenever he's Angry, overwhelmed, or sad.

Test subject #006;

Playtime ( Sarah )-

Also acts like normal playtime, has fluffy hair that are in two pigtails. She has no pupils but can see perfectly fine, very energetic. Though she has a short attention span, she stops chasing the player after losing sight of them. She seems to have grown attached to test subject #004.

Test subject #007;

It's a bully ( Owen )-

He does a pretty good job at blocking the player's path, only moving once the player gives up an item. Test subject #007 seems to like bothering test subject #004. (I have to keep an eye on them, don't want any of them killing each other.)

Test subject #001

Null ( . . . )-

[ Redacted ]

Robot helper;

First Prize-

A robot I've built for fun, nothing much to say.. it does head towards the player at full speed once spotted.

Test subject #008

Arts and crafts-

An entity that chooses to hide itself with a.. sock?- It's docile but will become aggressive if stared at for too long, it will not harm the player though it'll surround them while letting out a loud and deafening static like screech alerting Test subject #004 (Baldi)

The player ( Y/N )-

After entering the school house, there's no going back. If they want to leave they'll have to find the correct key for the exit, there are seven keys scattered throughout the school house. Once finding the correct key, they'll have to run as quick as they could before #004 can catch them. If they don't make it out, they'll be ripped apart by test subject #004.

Note: Still working on the ref sheets for the others. Make sure to check back here daily for any updates.

Useful items:

B-Soda -

It works on most of the test subjects, except for #007.

Scissors-

Can be used on #006, though it'll make her upset. But she'll completely forget about it after 10 seconds.

The mixtape-

Using it will make it hard for #004 to find the player, it only lasts for 20 seconds.

First-aid kit-

If injured (accidentally) by first prize or Arts and crafts, use the first aid kit.

This is a WIP.. more will be added soon

The guy who runs the school house

[starchild0985]

Okay, I'm not really sure what this is, lol. This is the first time I've written for a television series in about twenty years. I'm still feeling my way into this universe, and I'm also old enough to be Ellie's mom, so worried about having her voice right. I loved writing this, though, and it was inspired by my love of Chris Cornell and how I thought Ellie would like Soundgarden.

Looking California, Feeling Minnesota

Rating: E

Word Count: 1343

Some Joel-Ellie familial bonding. Joel's gift helps Ellie make a bridge between her life before and in Jackson.

It wasn’t as if Ellie wanted to stick out; not really. 

When she looked at the other teenagers at the dining hall, those first few days when they had re-settled in Jackson, they didn’t really look so different. She sized them up with the eye of one practiced, and they were more rounded, not having grown up without food, and clumsy in a way she had never had the freedom be. 

Here in Jackson, mistakes were no longer a matter of reduced rations or death. 

Still, she tried to reason, her logical mind tenaciously, perhaps paradoxically, defending quixotic hope, that they were like her, still trying to learn, still trying to figure out what chances existed in a world like this. 

 When she looked at her own hands, though, they seemed rougher, a chimera of her, Ellie, and the specter-self she had left behind in the shadows of Silver Lake. 

The softness Joel bestowed upon her—a tenderness Ellie dared not to name, for fear it would shrivel like leaves in a campfire—sheltered a tiny spark of hope that this could be a fresh start. A new her. 

Watching the girls laughing in a knot together, though, that ideal seemed impossible to attain. 

--------------------------- 

Joel came back from his first overnight patrol bearing gifts—two sketchbooks, only slightly wrinkled from previous moisture, and a new cassette tape. 

Having accepted the sketchbooks with an enthusiastic “bitchin!”, trying out a slang term she’d picked up from one of the women who worked at the stables, Ellie turned the cassette over in her hand.  

“Soundgarden?’ 

“Found this in a busted-out old station wagon in the woods. Thought you’d like it, kiddo.” 

“Sounds like old people music, so it’s perfect for you.” 

Joel got the look Ellie loved, when something she said made him want to laugh, but he pursed his lips to try to hide it. 

“That sure ain’t what my parents thought when Tommy was playing it. Course, he blew out my pa’s car speakers with it, so can’t say I blame them.” 

She stuck her pinkie finger in one of the cassette’s holes, remembered another life, when Riley had fixed her Pearl Jam tape when Bethany had pulled the fragile innards out. 

“’S loud?” 

“Sure is, so mind the volume when you play it, ‘less you want to be as deaf as me.”  

Joel tugged on her ponytail, the affectionate gesture erasing any harshness that could be perceived in his words. 

------------ 

It WAS loud, and to Ellie’s surprise, the intense thrum of the guitar and the singer’s range, purring low one moment and screaming the next, grounded her. She listened to the tape twice that first night, falling asleep near the end of the B side. 

She peppered Joel with questions about the band at breakfast, trying to figure out what the musicians looked like. Joel scratched his head, taking a sip of chicory root coffee. 

“Well, they were more Tommy’s thing, mind you, but the singer was a fella named Chris. He had real long hair, and he didn’t have a shirt on in his videos sometimes.” 

“Gross.” She tapped her nail on the Walkman, sitting by her breakfast plate. “I like his voice, though.” 

----------- 

A month passed, and Ellie sat in Joel’s garage workshop, his hand covering hers easily as he showed her how to sand the tabletop he was working on. 

“Easy, now. Go with the grain, see? There you go.” 

Ellie sat back and admired her handiwork, then remembered the thought that had been tugging at her brain as she slipped into her dreams last night.  

“Hey, Joel? Can you ask me a question about one of the songs on the tape you got me?” 

This was another Joel expression that never failed to make Ellie laugh, the way his eyebrows would shift when he was worried she was going to ask something, as he put it, “inappropriate.” They’d clawed their way through hell and back, but he still tried to raise her the same way he had the girl she secretly considered a big sister. 

It made her feel achingly, almost, equal.  

“Now, Ellie, you know not to repeat those if there’s anything...raunchy...” 

She rolled her eyes. 

“Raunchy. Okay, grandpa.” 

He looked at her, head tilted in a question, and the teasing evaporated from her lips as she got back on topic. 

“What does ‘looking California, feeling Minnesota’ mean? Because I don’t think I even know where Minnesota is, and I just saw California in a movie once.” 

“Well, now, I reckon that’s him trying to say he the way he looks and the way he feels are two different things, but he said it like that as a, you know....” 

“Metaphor?” 

The look of pride on Joel’s face was enough to make Ellie feel like the neighborhood cat basking in a beam of light. 

“That’s the one. It’s a metaphor. He’s saying he don’t feel like he belongs where is, even if he looks it.” 

Ellie looked down at the tabletop again, pushing the sandpaper across the section in front of her. 

“I thought you didn’t feel that way anymore when you grew up.”  

She could feel Joel fidgeting next to her in the pause that followed. 

“Babygirl, I feel that way all the time.” 

Even now, it was hard not to look for signs he was humoring her. Making fun of her. The things adults do with kids. She saw, instead, pure earnestness in his eyes. She gave him a moment to gather thoughts like he needed, the way he always gave her time to finish. 

“Tommy was always the more talkative of us brothers, but now, I gotta remember we’re in a safe place where I can know someone’s full name, give them mine. Feels like no one else here has that problem. But I struggle with it every time.” 

“Oh.” 

“And...And Sarah--” 

There were still days where it was hard for him to say Sarah’s name, but he did it more around her than anyone else, and she held her breath, hoping he’d continue. 

“Well, Sarah didn’t go through what you have, but her mama left us when Sarah was a baby, and she felt like everyone could tell.” 

Connection sparkled across all the years, the thoughts of a girl wondering why her mother didn’t want her finding one who had, decades later, come to learn her mother’s lie was what saved her life. The connection, purple and green, over and over, forged by the weary man in flannel who would have risked it all for him for both of them. 

Ellie laid a hand on his forearm and squeezed, and he bent over to press a grateful kiss on the top of her head. 

“’Course, Sarah was always real tall for her age, too, and she used to hate she couldn’t fit into the clothes her friends could. Now, you could’ve, but, well, you ain’t that girly, and she would have respected that.” 

“I’d have liked that.” Ellie thought back on the song. “Do you think the guy who sang it felt that way?” 

“That’s why he wrote it, baby. I always liked music for that. Says a lot when you’re not real great with words.” 

-------------- 

The next time Ellie went to the dining hall, her Walkman in her pocket, and looked at the kids, she was still scared. She still felt Minnesota. 

But she thought about Joel, how the toughest man she’d ever known was scared to put his guard down, even after weeks, even for an instant, and no one knew. 

She thought of how Sarah, who she thought must have had a perfect life, having Joel before the world went to hell, had her silent hurts. 

Ellie wondered if, in the crowd of faces, they all had their own stories. Their own pain. 

Her eyes met those of the dark-haired girl who’d watched her all that ago, when Ellie had first come to Jackson. Dina, she thought her name was. 

This time, when Dina looked, Ellie smiled. 

[jargonautical]

A guided tour

“AND THIS IS where the magic happens! Not my personal area of expertise, but I’m pleased to say that my little team of technicians here has everything well in hand.”

Patterson’s air of smug ownership is very much beginning to grate by the time they reach the little office at the back of the museum. Their arrival doesn’t even turn any heads until Patterson pointedly clears his throat and a young man rises to greet them.

Lanky and pale, thick dark brown hair pulled back off his face and into a ponytail hanging down his back, his faded red T-shirt proudly proclaims ‘HAIL SAGAN’. Patterson introduces him with studied vagueness as ‘ah, Chris looks after the technicians here.’, and Mainder doesn’t miss the faux-casual skipping over surnames and specifics. The security pass on the bright orange lanyard around his neck clearly identifies the boy as one Dr Christian Taylor, Technical Director, Non-Invasive Archaeology Unit, which sounds considerably more senior and more qualified than Patterson made it out to be.

“Mr Mainder, isn’t it? Sorry we weren’t at the briefing; Aaron had a batch script just about to complete.”

Aaron is presumably the young man hunched over the next desk who mumbles something vaguely like welcome without looking away from his array of screens. A dozen coloured traces blip across one of them in sync with rapidly scrolling numbers on another, and periodically he types something into an open tab on the third.

The next two desks in the row are currently unoccupied, but sheets of paper and bright sticky notes cover every inch of available flat surface and extend up the walls on either side.

“Janice sits here, she’s our project manager. I wouldn't ask for details unless you really, really like Gantt charts. Viktor spends all his time knee deep in mud so Janice uses his desk as overflow. Um, kitchen through there, help yourself to tea and coffee … oh, will you need a desk? We can probably shuffle up and make room somewhere. Did they issue you a laptop yet?”

Mainder searches his memory and comes up blank. There wasn’t anything in the document he signed, that’s for sure. It could have been mentioned while he wasn’t paying attention, but either way it doesn’t matter. There’s no way another desk is going to fit anywhere in here unless they sacrifice the little couch and coffee table in the bay window, and if they did decide to give him any kind of computer he wouldn’t even know how to turn it on.

Patterson, still talking, has carried on down to the far end of the room, arranged like a lab with worktop running the length of one wall and an array of tall metal cupboards on the other. Shallow trays laid out along the worktop display finds from the work so far; beads, bones and pottery shards, nothing momentous. Much more interesting, to Mainder at least, is the brief glimpse of scarlet beyond the open door of one of the cupboards; if he’s not mistaken, this could be the invisible secretary from the meeting. He covertly stares as they pass, trying to commit her to memory this time. Oval face, high forehead, mousy hair cut in a chin-length bob that falls over her face no matter how often she tries to tuck it behind her ear. Lightish grey eyes - oddly familiar somehow, that’s going to bug him. No wedding ring, no engagement ring, not that that means anything these days; no other jewellery that he can see, and either no makeup at all or an incredibly understated and undetectable no-makeup look.

On balance he’s inclined to think it’s the former. If she had any interest at all in making herself more attractive she’d do something with her hair, dress in colours that suited her better - literally anything would be an improvement on her current outfit, especially that eye-draggingly awful cardigan, leeching attention away from her until her own features are reduced to mere background noise.

“Of course I’d expect you to recognise most of this.” Patterson says, gesturing at the trays. “Lovely little mix, fantastic extraction and cataloguing experience for the interns. All the evidence points to some kind of rubbish pit beside a relatively high-status settlement.”

Mainder pretends to inspect the lacklustre collection of archaeological scraps; trash, just as the professor suspects. No surprises there.

“You’ll recall of course that we could be looking at a late Bronze Age tomb complex extending to under the barrow to the east, your so-called ‘fairy hill’.”. The quote marks clip into place as clearly as if he’d raised his index fingers to sign them. “In fact we all got very excited when this was uncovered.” On the wall, a grainy black and white photo of a severely plain bronze torc has been stuck up along with a terse red-pen annotation of ‘OUT OF CONTEXT!! :(‘. He taps the photo with a stubby finger and continues, “But as you can see it was quickly discovered to be a hoax. One of the previous residents of the vicarage apparently fancied himself as an amateur archaeologist. Had, ah, a naughty habit of burying artefacts wherever the fancy took him to be discovered later.”

“How very frustrating.” Mainder soothes, bending his head quickly over the trays to hide the rogue grin quirking the corners of his mouth. “I’m sure he meant no harm.”

“Possibly, possibly,” Patterson acknowledges judiciously, “but still - it was quite the red herring.”

“And is this all you’ve brought up so far?”

“Ah, you should see our star find.” Patterson taps his nose in a faintly creepy display of confidentiality and gestures for Mainder to back up. “Some of the more unusual artefacts require slightly more specialised treatment, as I’m sure you’ll understand. Evie, would you mind pulling the chieftain’s brooch for Mr Mainder to see?”

Evie. Mainder tastes the name silently. It doesn’t suit her. A childish diminutive, surely short for something more imposing. Evangeline? Evelyn? He boggles momentarily at the unbidden vision of her responding to either of those names - something similar to his reaction if somebody tried to call him ‘Elias’, notwithstanding that it’s the name on his official documentation. Evie it is then.

“I must have missed you in the introductions, Evie. What’s your role here?”

She barely manages to open her mouth before Patterson answers for her. “Evie is our asset management specialist.”

An awkward silence spins out while Patterson waits expectantly for the girl to pick up her cue and fill in the gaps. Somehow though, without moving a muscle or making a sound, she couldn’t have signaled more clearly if she’d written it on one of those sickly-coloured sticky notes and slapped it on his forehead that since Patterson had started answering for her, he could feel free to carry on and supply the missing details. Mainder hadn’t expected to feel sorry for Patterson, today or any other day, but honestly it’s like watching someone dispatch a wasp with a rocket launcher. He can’t help but smile, safely behind Patterson’s back, and comes to the rescue.

“Asset management, right. What does that involve?”

“Spreadsheets, mostly.” she answers, so blandly that he feels almost like he ceased to exist too, vapourised in Patterson’s blast radius. No, this won’t do. She’s too interesting to be allowed to fade into the background again.

“What happens if someone tries to make off with an asset? I hope for your sake you’re stronger than you look!”

It turns out he was mistaken. Her expression before wasn’t bland, it was simply polite-shading-to-neutral. At his ill-chosen attempt at humour it transforms to total, absolute stillness, a null, as if invisible shutters had slammed up between her and everyone else. He could swear the tacky lino under his feet trembles faintly, so physical is the frisson of uncertainty that runs through him. He retreats to safer ground, turning with relief to the item under the magnifier.

“Beautiful.” he murmurs after a frozen pause.

He’s absolutely sincere. It’s one of Smidur’s, one of his best at that, and has to have been for someone high up in one of the old Fire houses. Maybe even at the very top. Shaped like a stylised sword, the blunt tapering blade and the pommel both heavily inlaid with precious stones, polished cabochons of garnet and deep-hued amber reflecting the bright ring of the magnifier light back up at him. Around them red-gold and silver wire inlays chase each other around the borders and up over the arch in a leaping flame pattern.

Homesickness washes over him, a sickening wave that curls his fingers around the edge of the bench for support. He has one of these, not nearly so fine of course, tucked away safely somewhere until it might be safe to use it again. He can feel the potential still stored in this one, a journey unfinished, hidden under mud and stone for so long waiting to shine again. The scribe was right; this beautiful piece has never crossed the Divide.

Glancing up he finds the girl watching him again, and again with that faint hint of concern she showed in the meeting. It unsettles him, far more so than if she’d been openly hostile. He won’t deny he’s off balance - but what’s it to her?

“Well, thank you for the viewing.” he says lightly. “What else should I see while I’m here, Professor?”

The dig supervisor is waiting for them at the far corner of the house, a gaggle of young interns clustered around him like imprinted ducklings.

It’s not hard to see why. Viktor is an impressive specimen whatever your personal preference - tall and tanned, he’s blessed with the face of a young Valentino and the physique of a gym rat. People always fail to guess correctly what he does for a living, to hear him tell it; they go for fitness instructor, rugby player, even Navy SEAL, long before they get anywhere close to his real specialism. It’s netted him many free drinks on a Saturday night from giggling young women who’ve failed to guess correctly, not to mention getting him laid more times than he can count. He has no interest whatsoever in seducing Mainder, obviously. In fact he has strong opinions about old farts posing about the place dressed all in black like they think they’re cool or something, but he prides himself on remaining professional. If there’s one thing he cares about more than his image, it’s his career prospects.

“I was just taking everyone through the dig schedule.” he hails them as they catch up to the group. “As I was saying - our scans show some very strong signals towards the back of the house, but we’ll be warming up with a look at the anomaly over by the hedge first. Depending on what we find there we’ll decide where to dig next, and of course we have to have an eye on the structural integrity of the building. Any questions so far?”

This is pointedly aimed only at the students, so Mainder fades to the back of the group to let them raise their points. The young woman next to him doesn’t appear to have anything to ask, not related to the dig anyway. She watches the magnificent Viktor with shining eyes and murmurs confidentially, “This is so exciting! Have you done projects like this before? Oh, you must have done hundreds. This is the first one I’ve done. I can’t wait to get started! I wonder what we’ll find?”

Mainder accurately gauges that she’s not looking for a meaningful dialogue, rather chattering from a combination of exhilaration and nerves, and confines himself to encouraging nods and murmurs of assent at appropriate intervals. He can’t remember the last time he was that excited about something; it would have been so long ago that now he can’t even remember how it would have felt, that’s how long.

“What happens if we don’t find anything?” one of the students near the front asks. “Maybe the same person who buried the torc buried the stuff from the hoard as well, and it’s all just a big joke.”

“It’s possible, but of course we hope not.” Viktor says stiffly. “There’s more than enough evidence of the site being worth investigating, even without the hoard so close by, and whatever we find will tell us more about how it was used. Does anyone else have a question?”

Since nobody does, they move on to the next part of their briefing leaving Mainder and Patterson staring expectantly at each other. A moment of awkward silence descends, as if Patterson was hoping Mainder would simply disappear of his own accord at this point, and when that fails to happen he glances at his watch.

“My goodness.” he murmurs vaguely. “Well, ah, I do have other appointments this afternoon. Just let the team know if you need anything.”

[magicshopaholic]

In Time (Taehyung x OC)

Summary: He's everywhere. Even months after your break-up, Taehyung is everywhere, even when you wish he would just disappear.

Pairing: Taehyung x OC

Genre: Angst

Word count: 10.6 K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: language, heartbreak, anxiety, smoking, alcohol, fast cars

A/N: Set 7-8 months after the events of Austin, but can be read standalone. If you want to be added to my taglist, drop me a comment/ask.

Tagging: @bbl32, @ssaboala, @dreaming-with-happiness, @kflixnet, @k-radio

Credits to the loveliest beta readers @meirkive and @jeoniius: thank you so so much Mei and Tannie for all the feedback that gave me the confidence to upload a fic like this. Wouldn't be possible without you two <3

Listen to: “stormy weather” by etta james

taehyung masterlist | main masterlist

“Annyeonghaseyo!”

Dilara smiles tightly and nods, muttering the greeting back to the woman at the counter. “Kamsahamnida,” she says quietly when she hands her the bottle of water, nodding slightly. 

“Your Korean has gotten better,” remarks Lexie as they walk towards the paddock on Thursday morning. “I dunno how, since you’ve got no reason to speak it anymore, but…” She shrugs.

Dilara frowns. “I said hello and thank you,” she reminds her. “And how can you tell?”

“Well, it’s more about the confidence with which you say it,” amends Lexie easily, pulling her long brown hair into a ponytail. “Plus, Chris told me. Apparently you spoke to someone at the airport?”

Dilara rolls her eyes. “I swear, his pity is worse than his insensitivity.”

“It’s not pity,” she disagrees in an admonishing tone. “He’s just… concerned. We know this won’t be the easiest weekend for you.”

“It’s been, like, four months, Lex. I’m over it.” When Lexie answers with nothing but a look, Dilara sighs. “Fine, I’m not fully over it but at least there aren’t any surprises this time,” she reasons, thinking back to the debacle in London two weeks ago with a shudder. “It’s the Korean Grand Prix - there really isn’t anywhere else I’d expect BTS to be this weekend.”

“That’s true.” Lexie sounds relieved. “And in any case, it’s a new track for everyone except Lewis and Seb - oh, and Alonso. The rest of you will have enough on your plate trying to ace it. D’you want to do a track walk later?”

Dilara answers in the affirmative as they near the Red Bull garage. The late June sun is warm but not glaring, and she tries to appreciate the fact that she’s one of the first drivers here this weekend, meaning the paddock is still relatively quiet. As the eighth race in a twenty-two race calendar, she hasn’t given up on the possibility that the Korean GP could be her chance to finally turn things around for the season. While the start was terrible, the races in Monaco and Great Britain helped steady her somewhat. Korea, despite whatever else it may represent, is going to be about nothing but the race as far as she’s concerned.

About twenty feet away from the paddock, Chris Park, who reached before them, spots them and waves before walking over. “Annyeonghaseyo!” he greets, looking tall and positively jolly as he takes off his sunglasses.

“Happy to be on home ground, are we?” Dilara asks dryly, looking around for someone to tell them where to head. “And, no, I don’t know how to say that in Korean so don’t even ask,” she adds quickly, pre-empting his next question.

His shoulders slump momentarily. “Fine. Where’s Freddie?”

“Went to the hotel to shower,” supplies Lexie, looking impressively nonchalant around Chris. She turns to Dilara. “Do you have PR now?”

“It’s Thursday, so probably…” She trails off as she sees Vicki Lloyd, Red Bull’s press officer, striding towards them.

“Hey, you lot,” she greets in her typical fashion, giving her and Lexie one-armed hugs. A thirty-something woman, always fit and poised even in jeans and Red Bull t-shirt, Vicki is the one person everyone takes seriously, sometimes even more than Christian. 

A chorus of “hey”s go up from the three of them before she turns to Dilara.

“Dilara, we need you back in the enclosure for a PR thing with the rest of the team,” she begins immediately, reading from a list on her phone. “Then there’s a meet and greet thing with BTS -” Dilara’s stomach jolts and she deliberately avoids her friends’ eyes “- with a few pictures and stuff… meet with Helmut... Alright, then you can get back to the hotel and freshen up before the show in the evening.” 

Dilara stares at her. “Before the what?”

Vicki looks up at her blankly. “The show,” she repeats, as though that explains everything. “BTS will perform, won’t they? Apparently, you can’t have an event in South Korea with BTS and not have them perform. You and Max, as the two drivers, will have to be on stage to introduce them and do some audience work with -”

“Back up - we have to do what?”

This time, she looks slightly sympathetic. “Yeah, I know, it’s a bit much. But don’t worry, Christian will mostly do it all. That’s what a team principal is for, right?” She shrugs. “You just have to stand on stage and smile when they come up.”

It’s the one thing Dilara doesn’t think she’s capable of doing but before she can grill Vicki any further, the press officer hurries away, reminding her as she leaves to be back in the paddock by four pm.

Dilara turns slowly towards Chris and Lexie. “Well, that’s a fucked up day to look forward to,” mutters Chris, and she can’t help but scoff in agreement. They head to the garage and she drifts away to her changing room for a bit of freshening up before going straight to PR, hoping to savour her last few BTS-free moments before this shitfest of a weekend.

The PR junket is pretty fun, overall; it’s another taste test with a bunch of Korean food, the staple sketch for every race outside of North America and England. As always, she and Max as the Red Bull drivers are joined by Pierre and Jehan, the drivers for Red Bull’s junior team, AlphaTauri. It’s a good group, reinforced by how they’d had her back during the fashion show in London earlier this month, and she tries to enjoy this as much as she can. 

Once it’s done, they head back to the hotel, a reasonably basic one just outside the circuit in Yeongam. On her way back to the paddock after she’s freshly showered and appropriately beautified (but still in a Red Bull t-shirt and skinny jeans), she starts to hear noise. Well, not noise, exactly - more like the best part of any F1 weekend: fans.

It’s a familiar rush, seeing so many excited people milling around wearing F1 gear. She also spots some in BTS merchandise, but she finds she can’t even fault them for it. If she were in a position where she had no history with the band and wasn’t a public figure, she might have been one of them. There are billboards and Army bombs being waved around and she realises with a sinking feeling that even after everything, there’s still a tiny, tiny bit of excitement in her stomach at watching BTS perform live.

Dilara tries not to think about it, for it isn’t going to help. November was the beginning of something good, March was the end of it, and it wasn’t until two weeks ago during the fashion show that everything came back to haunt her again. That evening had taken her by surprise; she’d spent all day fretting about whether this would be the day that Christian told her that Red Bull wasn’t extending her contract for next year after her terrible start to the season. Even while Lexie helped her get ready, she couldn’t get her mind off the possibility of being without a seat next year.

As it turned out, Christian told her no such thing. The next worst thing happened; BTS was announced as brand ambassadors for Red Bull, as part of the company’s plan to expand further into Asia. The shock in Dilara when she’d seen them walk up on stage was unparalleled, rivaling only the discovery that Christian had told everyone to keep it from her as some sort of surprise. Fangirl, he’d humiliatingly called her in front of everyone including the band, and Dilara had wanted to die.

The rest of the night had gone in processing their presence and doing her best to ignore it. The fashion show was still manageable, but the after party was a different story, and Dilara had been left with no choice but to instruct Max to keep her steadily plied with alcohol throughout. Max, who’d listened in stunned silence when she’d told him about the break up, had found himself feeling uncharacteristically guilty for not warning her and acquiesced to her demand.

After recovering from a horrendous hangover the morning after the event, she’d done nothing but focus on the race the following weekend (Silverstone, Great Britain), managing a double Red Bull podium with Max once again. It made two podiums in the year so far: Monaco a week prior, and Silverstone, two legendary tracks. She should’ve been happy - and she was - but the only two things on her mind were whether these overdue results would be enough for her to get signed again, and the next Grand Prix, which just happened to be Korea, revived after ten long years since Sebastian Vettel dominated the sport.

Dilara doesn’t see the actual band until they come on stage to perform. She and Max are backstage with Christian while they prepare to go on. She tries not to look at them; they aren’t paying too much attention to anyone else either as they get fitted with their mics and a bunch of stylists hover around them, fixing their hair and make-up. 

She also tries not to think about how the last time she’d seen them, at the fashion show in London. The alcohol blurred everything, but her constant fear of running into any of them, especially him, is seared into her mind. She remembers avoiding them best as she could, the loud music of the after party, her singular goal of avoiding every member of that band, looking away with a gasp when she’d accidentally met J-Hope’s smiling gaze, hurrying away when she’d bumped into Jungkook in the crowd, and dancing with someone to distract herself until she had to be taken home before she passed out.

Her stomach churns at the thought; seeing them from the corner of her eye now suddenly reminds her that it was most likely Suga who helped her into the cab after the party, his ice blue hair a distinct memory. The idea of her needing any of their help, after everything, is nauseating.

When they’re announced, they go up onstage in a cloud of smoke before the song starts and they start performing their hearts out. It’s not like she can shut her ears; unlike a week ago when she’d finally decided to unblock their hashtags on social media and listen to the new single, this time she can’t turn off her phone the moment she decides it’s too much. 

She hadn’t even listened to the entire song; after a point, listening to their voices and the resurfacing of old emotions at their music was overwhelming, and she’d turned it off after the first verse. She vaguely notes that it’s like a grown up version of Converse High, and now that she’s forced to listen to it, she’s also forced to admit that it’s actually not a bad song.

The audience goes batshit crazy as usual; Christian even leans over to her and Max to whisper it, as though afraid of being overheard amidst the loud music. “They’re a big deal, aren’t they?” he remarks in mild wonder, checking his phone, she’s sure, for the script he’s supposed to follow after the performance is over.

Once the song is done, the anchor goes up to congratulate them and they do a bit of audience work, all in Korean. Dilara finds herself becoming more and more jittery with every passing moment, hating everything about this: the people involved, the awkwardness of it, not to mention facing hundreds of people on stage. When they’re finally announced, she follows Christian and Max out on stage to applause. 

On her way up, she briefly scans the faces in the audience; while most are cheering, she can also see a few frowns and eye rolls. She bites her lip; it’s not unexpected that some fans still have some resentment towards her for her public proximity to the group, as former brand ambassadors of Honda, Red Bull’s engine supplier. She resists the urge to roll her eyes, wanting to inform them that she has nothing to do with their precious boys anymore, that they’re welcome to them, estrangement and everything.

Dilara feels a nudge to her stomach; when she looks up at Max, annoyed, he mutters at her to smile. She obeys, only somewhat paying attention to Christian and the Korean anchor, a vaguely familiar guy in his thirties maybe, and RM sometimes interjecting when they mention the band. Finally, they officially introduce Dilara Komyshan and Max Verstappen and she sees Christian pass the mic to Max who greets the crowd in English, just like in every other country apart from his own. When he passes the mic to her, she feels her stomach leap unpleasantly, already knowing what’s expected of her.

Heart thumping, she swallows and faces the crowd. “Annyeonghaseyo,” she begins, pausing for the crowd to cheer before continuing in Korean. Christian and Vicki had been clear about this; at least one of the drivers needed to say something in the language and as the only one with a Korean friend, Dilara had been automatically volunteered, her own discomfort be damned. 

“I’m really happy to be here and… to race in Korea, finally,” she adds, sighing in relief when she makes it through without messing up any of the words, although she’s sure her accent is rubbish. The crowd cheers even louder and she’s glad, for she’d specifically double-checked this with Chris before getting up on stage, making him send her a voice note where he said the words slowly and clearly. 

Her eyes automatically find the group across the stage to see them all smiling or grinning - at least the ones she can see - and she’s horrified to find their approval still means something to her.

I wanted to teach you.

The memory comes unbidden to the forefront of her mind, of a pouting ex-boyfriend and freshly laundered sheets. She lets out a ragged breath which, thankfully, no one seems to notice. Sneaking a look at the band again, she can see RM, Jimin, Suga and J-Hope in front. The others, she presumes, are at the back, being the tallest except for their leader. Dilara can’t see him, for which she’s thankful, and she immediately turns her attention towards the emcee, who’s still pointing at the drivers as he talks.

There’s a bit more crowd work being done before the band is then ushered offstage, leaving just Dilara, Max and Christian to be interviewed by F1 journalists this time. Lee Ji-won, their main reporter, asks them typical questions about the circuit and the season so far, and she feels herself getting slightly more comfortable now that the discussion has moved to her domain. She deliberately averts her gaze from the wings of the stage; she’d caught a flash of blond hair behind the reporter’s shoulder and the last thing she wants is to acknowledge the band any more than she already has.

When the interview ends and they step offstage, she hurries into the wings and immediately bangs into someone’s shoulder. She gasps involuntarily at the impact and feels someone’s hands steady her. “Gwaenchanha?” 

Dilara looks up and for a millisecond, her eyes meet Park Jimin’s. The horrifying memory of her last interaction with him claws through her brain and before she can begin to process how his eyes go wide and his mouth opens as if to say something, she flinches out of his grasp and hurries away, not stopping even when she hears him call her name, sounding uncertain.

It doesn’t get too much better after that. There’s a backstage picture everyone needs to pose for and when one of the stylists enthusiastically places her between Jimin and her ex, Max grabs her wrist at the last minute and pulls her towards him and she ends up placed between him and Jungkook. 

She tries to smile but it’s so hard. The moment with Jimin especially makes her so nauseous, not just because it’s incredibly reminiscent of the fashion show where she bumped into what felt like fifty percent of the band, but also because if she thinks about it, he was the last member of the band she ever spoke to.

Dilara flees the enclosure after that, feeling rather like she’s escaped a prison with no one but the biggest boyband in the world and its devotees. The weather is thankfully nice and cool, with the sky darkening a bit. There isn’t a place on earth she’s able to blend in less than in an F1 paddock, but for once, there’s a bigger celebrity than the drivers here and she gets to leave in peace. 

Three days to go, she tells herself like a mantra, hoping she has no further reasons to interact with them again. They’ll hang around the paddock and the Red Bull garages, she’s sure, but the crowded nature of both those places will at least ensure that she can safely stay the fuck away from them until she’s out of Yeongam.

“Hey, Dilara!”

She freezes. The voice is familiar and instantly makes her stomach churn, and it takes her a moment to realise that it’s none of the seven members of the band. She turns slowly to see one of Max’s mechanics walking towards her, smiling and waving.

Dilara exhales, her heart racing in anticipation. It occurs to her only now, when she sees his face and hears his voice, that this was the person she’d danced with in her extreme state of intoxication at the after party in London. She had spent most of the party drinking on an empty stomach and socialising as much as possible with people who were not BTS… including a member of Max’s pit crew. He’d been charming and fun, and as far as she can remember, had done his best to help her hydrate when her vision had started tunneling. Nothing had happened, but she couldn't lie to herself; after the horror that was that night, she would’ve done whatever it took to forget everything.

“Annyeonghaseyo,” he says, smiling and stopping a couple feet away from her, looking far sunnier than she feels

“Oh, annyeonghaseyo… Jaden,” she guesses, hoping she’s right. 

Jaden’s smile widens at her response. “How are you?”

Dilara frowns; he’s spoken in Korean and his accent is near perfect, from what she can tell. “Gwaenchanha,” she answers, watching his reaction.

He doesn’t disappoint. “You speak Korean!” he exclaims, his accent British - British like Chris’s, or hers. “Are you learning or is it just for this weekend?”

“Oh, uh… I watch a lot of k-drama,” she answers lightly. “Oh, and one of my best friends is Korean, too. But I don’t speak it. I know, like… six words.”

“That’s cool, that’s cool. How are you doing, by the way? After…” Jaden trails off and she feels her cheeks heat up.

“Oh, uh… I’m - I’m fine. Made the rookie mistake of drinking too much on an empty stomach,” she explains awkwardly, hoping he doesn’t start reliving the night, drunken dancing, eventual incoherence, or her breakdown which spurred Max to send her home immediately, calling Lexie as he tucked her into the cab.

Fortunately, he doesn’t go that far. “We’ve all been there,” he says easily, wincing mock-sympathetically. 

“Right.” Dilara nods slowly, feeling slightly better. “But, um… thanks. I know I was kind of… spinning out towards the end.” She smiles awkwardly.

“Oh, don’t mention it. You weren’t that bad. You were… charming.” He shoves his hands into his pockets, chuckling softly. “And none of my friends were there, so you ended up keeping me company that night, too.”

“I’ll take it.” After a moment where no one speaks, she takes a deep breath. “Anyway… see you around.” She turns to leave when he says her name again.

“Um, I was actually hoping I’d run into you. Outside the garage, I mean,” he adds, one hand going to the back of his head nervously. “Um, do you… do you maybe want to get a drink or something? Like, tomorrow night, maybe?”

Oh. Truly not expecting this, she pauses. “Look, Jaden, I -” She clears her throat. “I’m really sorry if I led you on at the fashion show or if I did anything inappropriate at all. I was really, really drunk and I just -”

“No, no, it’s nothing to do with that,” he assures her quickly. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I just… I dunno, I always thought you were cute, even when I was just a viewer. And you may have been really drunk, but…” Jaden shrugs, a small smile appearing. “At least it broke the ice.”

Dilara chuckles, despite herself. “At least something good came out of that disaster,” she mutters dryly. “But… I don’t know. We work together… and I honestly haven’t seen a restaurant in a five mile radius of this place.”

It’s Jaden’s turn to chuckle. “I can find one. I’m from here,” he says after a moment.

“You’re from Yeongam? Wait, you’re Korean?”

He grins. “Park Jae-won,” he says in answer, holding out a hand for her to shake. “I know I don’t look it. I’m only half-Korean.”

“No, I didn’t -” She takes his hand absently, suddenly remembering that at the aforementioned party where a transparent amount of k-pop was being played for the shiny new ambassadors, Jaden effortlessly sang along to songs she’d never even heard. “Wow. You grew up here?”

“Partly. Then we moved to Incheon, and then London.” He raises his eyebrows. “So? Is that a yes?” When she doesn’t answer, he shoves his hands back into his pockets. “It’s just free practice tomorrow. We’ll come back on time so you can get a good night’s sleep before Qualifying on Saturday.”

“I -” Dilara is genuinely at a loss as to how to answer. While there theoretically wouldn’t be any harm, she just doesn’t know if she’s ready to date yet, much as she hates the reason. She recalls a conversation she'd had with Lexie right after Silverstone a week ago, when she’d sympathetically but firmly advised her to start properly moving on - the main bit of which included dating.

“You don’t have to marry anyone,” she’d reasoned, as they sat in matching splits at the gym. “Just go out, get courted, have some fun and sex.”

It made sense then. Now, faced with the reality, Dilara finds herself getting anxious. But if she’s being honest, a distraction is definitely what she needs, this weekend most of all.

“Well… looks like you’ve thought of everything.” She shrugs, giving him a small smile.

It takes him a moment. “Really?” His face breaks out into a genuinely good-looking smile and Dilara, against all odds, feels her heart skip a beat. “Alright, then. Pick you up at six?”

So, after Free Practice the next day, Dilara gets ready for her first date in months. Lexie is beside herself with relief, even though she tries to hide it by pretending to stalk Jaden on Instagram.

“I’m your friend, it’s my responsibility to make sure he isn’t some kind of creep,” she informs Dilara knowingly, looking up at her outfit critically. “D’you want to borrow my blue top with the flowers? It’d make your boobs look good.”

Dilara laughs, surprisingly excited. “Sure, why not? I have good boobs, right?”

“Absolutely.” Lexie hurries to her suitcase to retrieve the blouse, a really nice top that she enthusiastically pairs with high-waisted jeans. 

One fallout of this unceremonious break-up was Lexie’s disappointment in the band. While Dilara’s had been mostly centred around heartbreak and humiliation, hers was closer to rage and genuine betrayal, partly as her friend and trainer, and partly as a fan. During the handful of times that either of them had even mentioned the band in the last few months, she’d been so savage in the way she spoke about them that even Dilara found herself wanting to defend them, feeling strangely guilty that she’d lost an artist she loved so much.

When Dilara’s finally ready, she heads down to the lobby of the hotel. As usual, the entire hotel is booked out for the F1 attendees, drivers, trainers and all other staff included. She wonders for the first time where BTS is staying, when she spots Jaden near the glass doors. He compliments how she looks in a very gentlemanly fashion, pressing a light kiss to her cheek, before leading her to his motorcycle parked outside.

“Wow,” she comments, taking the helmet he hands her. “Sexy bike.”

He grins, faded leather jacket making him look genuinely handsome. “Thanks. I watch a lot of MotoGP, too,” he confesses.

Dilara nods, warming up to him a bit more. “Me, too. I mean, If people think F1 is dangerous…” She shakes her head and lets out a low whistle. “MotoGP is a class apart. They can literally die at any moment.”

“On that encouraging note,” he says, climbing onto the bike, “hop on.”

They ride around fifteen minutes away from the hotel, a nice and cool wind blowing as they do. The more they ride, the better she starts to feel about her decision to say yes. Jaden ends up taking her to a pub quite literally in the middle of nowhere; it’s nice, though - quaint - and even though she’s dressed fairly conservatively (a jacket, jeans and boots), the crowd seems to be young enough to not care even if she wasn’t. There’s most motorcycles parked outside, along with one hatchback and a large black SUV.

They get a table near an old fashioned jukebox and right across from a dartboard; the first thing she does is pick up a lone dart and aim it at the board, smirking when it hits the bull’s eye.

“Athlete reflexes,” notes Jaden, coming up behind her. His chest brushes her back and she feels an old, familiar sensation of butterflies in her stomach. The fact that she can still feel it takes her off guard, a sign that moving on might just be possible. She leans back very slightly, turning up to look at him when he places his hands on her shoulders. 

“Can I get you a drink?” he asks. “Might help me to lower your reflexes a bit.”

Dilara laughs. “Okay, but just a beer. I still have to race tomorrow.”

It’s objectively a reasonably fun date. As it turns out, breaking the ice through her drunken escapades during the fashion show actually does help, because they seem to have made it past the awkward touches phase, automatically comfortable making physical contact. Casual nudges and playful pulling of the arms doesn’t feel strange at all, not even when she’s aiming a dart and he comes up behind her, gently pulling her back into his chest, hands light on her waist.

They kiss during the only English song that plays during the date; out of nowhere, Don’t Stop Me Now by Queen starts playing and they sing along to it, fortunately in a corner of the pub so no one quite pays any attention to them. During the guitar riff, there’s a moment of meaningful eye contact and, without making a big deal of it, Jaden leans forward and softly kisses her on the lips. She kisses him back but given that they’re in a public place in a fairly conservative country, they stop before it gets too heated. 

She expects to feel something; some nostalgia at a fun first date on a race weekend, or a hollowness at saying goodbye to a quick, rushed chapter in her life. But the kiss is too quick and she’s been consciously blocking out the events of March for months now. By the time she even registers that his lips are his, Jaden’s, and not the ones she’d dared to consider might be the last ones she’d ever kiss, the song changes and the moment is over.

They don’t have tons to talk about, if she’s being honest. It’s fun anecdotes and jokes here and there, but she can already tell that there’s nothing long term here. Still, it’s nice to have a night of fun with a nice guy - and he is a nice guy. It’s only towards the end of the date when he excuses himself to use the men’s room, kissing her on the cheek, that she finally has a moment to herself. Running her fingers through her hair, she looks around at the other patrons, a calm crowd mostly keeping to themselves. 

She half-expects to see someone she knows; people like Lewis Hamilton, Daniel Ricciardo or Charles Leclerc sometimes tend to head out on a race weekend to loosen up, especially if it’s a country they don’t visit very often. She tries half-heartedly to identify faces, until she does a double-take and, for the first time in six months, she makes eye contact with V of BTS.

Dilara’s heart stops. If he’s surprised, he doesn’t show it, which makes her think he’d already seen her. He’s in a black hoodie with the hood up, presumably to blend in, but there isn’t a single doubt in her mind that it’s him, especially not with the way he’s staring back. His long blond hair peeks out, framing his face, brushing his cheekbones and leaving his forehead partly exposed.

Weren’t you dating one of them? The tall one, with the blond hair? Max’s confusion had been understandable, given how she’d swept out of the hall the moment she’d had the opportunity, hoping with all her might that she wouldn’t have a panic attack here, in public - and because of him. It had felt like an ambush, how casually he’d waltzed back into her company event, her domain and her life, with his members flanking him in suits and more confidence than she felt they had any right to.

Christian had tried to force conversation, naturally: keeping brand ambassadors happy meant that money would keep flowing in. Money meant a good car and a real chance at the championship. Dilara knew it, of course, but at the moment it had meant nothing to her. She’d done her best to ignore their existence entirely, hoping to savour some savage satisfaction but instead feeling only cornered and humiliated, to the point where she’d considered faking a headache to leave early.

It was all talk, though. She was a racer; even at her worst, she wouldn’t hide. She couldn’t. It would be too hard to look at herself in the mirror. But there was nothing to say she had to bear it with a smile, which was when she’d enlisted Max to have her back, something he’d done loyally all night. Even seeing the members here and there during the party hadn’t been so bad while her vision swam… until she spotted him.

V of BTS was blond now - that much she had gleaned from Max. Her greatest achievement of the night, though, through all the ignoring and drinking, had been her ability to avoid him. She had managed even, during Christian’s small talk, to position herself such that he was somewhere behind her. On stage, he’d been standing at the back, and during the party she hadn’t caught a glimpse of him until the very end.

She’d reached the stage of the night where she’d started stumbling. Max had left her side for a few minutes to greet a sponsor’s kid somewhere, and Dilara had ventured to the bar alone and ordered a whiskey on the rocks, her least favourite drink. The bartender had nodded and started shuffling behind the bar, when she’d felt a brush behind her and an old, familiar, heartbreaking scent wafting over. 

Her body’s immediate reaction had been to give up; she had to grip the bar to keep from crumpling to the ground while her mind struggled to take in every ounce of it, every bit of the lotion and spicy cologne that she’d tried her best to repress over the last three months. Using nothing but her peripheral vision, she’d done everything in her power to not turn her head and keep it trained in the direction of the bartender. The new entrant had come up from behind her to stop at the bar to her left, approximately five feet between them. 

The first thing Dilara had noticed was the blond hair. There was a dark grey pinstripe suit, well-fitted, and a flash of red; her guess, a tie. He’d placed one hand on the bar and a familiar ring glinted on his index finger. Her chest had felt like it would literally close up and the moment she’d noticed his shoulders tilting towards her, the bartender had placed her drink on the bar and she’d let out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding. Without a second thought, she’d picked up her drink, turned around and left. 

She’d allowed herself a few moments of weakness since then, wondering if he’d been about to say something to her. After everything, she couldn’t fathom for the life of her what he would want to say to her, or why he would even want to acknowledge anything between them. Even now, the entire pub could burn down and she doesn’t think he would have the inclination to say anything to her - or the nerve.

She feels an old, familiar irritation at how difficult his face is to read; there’s a hint of a frown on his forehead and his eyes are heavily lidded, his face tilted up slightly since he’s sitting at a booth and she’s on a bar stool. It’s then that she realises he’s not alone. She can vaguely make out Jimin next to him, but it’s too hard to tear her eyes away from V. She expects something to happen - tears or something. But the shock is too much, especially at how they’ve somehow managed to find each other in a crowded pub in a South Korean town. 

She still can’t place his expression; a shadow suddenly passes over his face and his eyes flicker. A moment later, she feels an arm go around her waist and Jaden kissing her cheek, making her jump.

“Shit, did I scare you?”  he asks, chuckling as he takes the seat opposite her. “Sorry.”

“No, I’m… I’m fine.” Dilara’s gaze meets V’s momentarily, and she wonders if he’s seen them this whole time, if he’s seen Jaden kiss her, if he’s seen her laugh with him… she looks away before she can go down this rabbit hole. 

“Hey.” Jaden’s voice breaks through. He waves a dimsum in front of her. “Aren’t you hungry?”

She shakes her head, glad for the distraction. “No, I…” She exhales and forces a smile onto her face. “It’s a race weekend. I have to make sure I don’t fuck it up.”

They leave soon after that. On the way out the door, she catches a glimpse of the same blond hair and diligently looks away, suddenly eager to just get back to the hotel and sleep. Despite a two hour date, neither she nor Jaden actually had much to drink; she, because of the race weekend, and Jaden she’s sure just wanted to keep her company.

When she reaches the hotel, Lexie’s in their shared room, eagerly awaiting details. Dilara tells her what she wants to hear: she had fun, he was hot, they made out in the parking lot (she leaves out the fact that she heard the door to the SUV slam shut and the car zoom away while they were), but she doesn’t see it going anywhere.

“Oh, well.” Lexie shrugs, flipping over onto her front on her bed. “At least you tried. And you had fun, so it wasn’t a total waste.”

“No, it wasn’t.” Dilara thinks about what she really wants to tell her closest friend, deciding that she needs a second opinion. She’s folding her jeans and tries to sound as nonchalant as possible. “By the way,” she begins, anticipating Lexie’s reaction, “guess who I saw at the pub?”

“Valtteri drowning his sorrows?” she guesses, referring to how the Alfa Romeo driver crashed his car out during Free Practice earlier today.

“Uh, no. I saw… well, I saw V.” Dilara looks up at her, trying to ignore how strange it feels to be saying his stage name.

Lexie’s eyebrows shoot up. “V… as in, V? As in Kim T-”

“Yes,” she cuts her off, swallowing. “Can you believe it? I mean, what are the chances?”

“Damn. Did he say anything?”

“No, we just spotted each other and looked away.” Dilara shrugs, realising in hindsight that while it felt like a huge moment, it wasn’t really one of any significance. “I guess I should’ve expected it. It doesn’t look like there are too many places around here for people to hang out.”

“Hm.” Lexie considers this. “Did he see you guys making out?”

Dilara stares, marvelling briefly at her ability to get to the point. “I - probably. I don’t know.”

“Good. I hope he did.”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s not like he gives a fuck. D’you think I should hit the gym in the morning?” she asks, successfully changing the subject. Honestly, Dilara is quite certain that she doesn’t want to get into the mess of jealousy - not because she doesn’t care, but because if she were to go by recent events, he doesn’t care. 

Lexie doesn’t seem fooled but she lets it go, going into trainer mode for their schedule tomorrow. The next day, Freddie Richter enters Dilara’s changing room while Lexie helps her stretch before the Qualifying round.

“Um, why did a mechanic from Max’s pit crew just ask me how you’re doing?” Tall, blond and German - and uninvited - he takes a seat on the couch. “And not like a supportive team member, but like he knows you?”

Dilara doesn’t answer, but Lexie takes over for her. “She went on a date with him,” she supplies. “Wait, we’re talking about the dark-haired, part-Korean guy, right?”

Fred nods. “Wow. What is it with you and Korean dudes?”

“She has a type.”

“It’s not a type until I date Chris,” disagrees Dilara, voice muffled against the mat. “And that’s never going to happen, so…”

Lexie and Fred snicker, and the latter whistles in a low voice. “Speaking of Korean dudes…” When she looks up questioningly, he cocks his head towards the ajar door. “Seven pretty famous ones just pulled up.”

“Fantastic,” she mutters, straightening up. “You guys will stay with me, right? I can’t get distracted before today’s session.”

They promise, and Dilara successfully avoids the group all afternoon. There’s a slightly sticky moment where Jaden comes up to talk to her while she’s next to her car, under the pretext of showing her how they’ve altered her car’s suspension slightly so that she gets maximum downforce, and when they straighten up, he asks her how she’s doing. She smiles a bit, of course, until she glances behind his shoulder to see V turning around and walking away. Despite her best efforts, she loses track of what Jaden is saying, wondering despite herself if he was really coming over here.

Qualifying is a blast. Given that it’s only an hour-long session on the whole and each driver doesn’t end up doing more than five or six laps, the fact that it decides the starting order for the race makes this session almost as important as the race itself. Twenty cars, going their absolute fastest - and Dilara is no exception. 

Despite whatever’s going on in her personal life, she drives the lap of her life and secures the first pole position of her career, beating McLaren’s Lando Norris by two-tenths and her own teammate Max by five-tenths of a second. The elation in her in starting first tomorrow is unprecedented, beaten only by her first race win in Austin last year.

Karun Chandok, one of the regular journalists on the paddock, takes her interview after, congratulating her on being the first female driver and the first Asian-origin driver to be a race winner and pole sitter in the history of Formula 1. After a personal congratulations on being a South Asian driver to make a mark on the sport, he finally bids her goodbye and she skips back to the garage.

Lexie is the first person to come up and hug her, followed by Christian, Chris and Fred. She’s not the first Red Bull pole sitter by any means, but it makes her feel warm that they’re still so happy for her. After Fred squeezes her hard enough to crack a rib and sets her on the ground, she catches Jungkook’s eye from over his shoulder. He’s smiling and clapping, eyes crinkling, and her own smile freezes on her face. She wants to look away but she’s suddenly aware of the same warm feeling creeping through her chest… like seeing another friend happy for her. 

Dilara holds his gaze for a moment and he seems surprised as well. The moment Jungkook realises she’s not looking away immediately, he stops clapping and lowers his hands, his smile transforming from the formal, chocolate boy camera smile to his real, genuine toothy one. He gives her a small wink and instantly, she feels tears prickling at the back of her eyes at the friend who followed her career even more than her boyfriend did, and who consequently hurt her almost as much as he did. She can feel her smile fading and before she can alert anyone to the fact that something’s wrong, she looks away, wiping her eyes and hoping it’ll look like happy tears.

The next day, everyone wakes up to weather reports of impending rain. It isn’t raining yet, but the sun isn’t out either, making everyone on the team slightly jittery as strategies are discussed on how best to deal with rain, should it come. In circuits like these, driving on dry tracks is hard enough without adding water to the mix. It makes for exciting viewing and racing, but it also means far greater potential for accidents and unexpected results.

Dilara tries not to think about it too much. She puts on her earphones the moment she’s on the paddock and in her race suit, focusing solely on warming up and getting in the zone, wanting more than anything for this pole position to convert into a win. The pressure is enormous, she discovers, when you’re in prime position to zoom ahead and build a steady lead. When all the drivers strap into their cars on the grid, she spots more than one driver glancing up at the sky surreptitiously.

Dilara doesn’t have a good start, though. As the pole sitter, the lead is already hers - or it should be. But Lando in P2 releases his clutch better and in the clean air, overtakes her straight away on Turn 1. It’s humiliating, especially when Max from behind him manages to get ahead of her as well, dropping her down to P3. With the sudden change in track position, she finds herself amidst a flurry of cars and the minute everyone goes into Turn 4, she feels a jolt when a car grazes hers on the front and she spins out onto the grass.

“Fuck!” she exclaims into the radio, trying to reverse and get back onto the track. Next to her, also on the grass, she sees a Ferrari and an AlphaTauri as well, the latter of which has stopped its engine. Without any further ado, with her race engineer Jonathan rattling off track positions into her earphones, she gets back on the track and into the pits for a new front wing, discovering with a sinking heart when she’s back on the track that she’s down to P14, all because Aston Martin’s Lance Stroll decided to pull out his dick and attempt some kind of overtake on another car.

Dilara is now stuck behind Sebastian Vettel who, as the youngest world champion in F1 history, is notoriously hard to overtake. At the same time, she has potential future world champion Charles Leclerc on her arse, his gleaming red Ferrari appearing menacingly in her rearview mirror. This goes on for nearly twenty laps, the first five of which are behind a safety car; she’s sandwiched between two prodigies of the sport, just about managing not to lose track position any further but also unable to move ahead. 

Fortunately for her, through another series of events including a safety car and a puncture ahead, she’s able to pit for fresh tyres again, arriving in P11, now one position away from at least getting points. In the next twenty or so laps, she steadily overtakes Esteban Ocon, Nick Latifi and Lance fucking Stroll to make it up to P8. Jonathan is still being encouraging on the radio, informing her that Max is in the lead at the moment. 

Of course he is. Max is her friend, but in the car and on track, that means nothing. He’s Max Verstappen, and him maintaining the lead is neither surprising nor well-received. In Formula 1 at least, there’s nothing worse than your teammate doing well when you aren’t.

She tries not to resent it too much; more than her own abysmal race, she’s also sure that should any adverse circumstances occur, she will be sacrificed to get Max his win. It’s an occupational hazard of being Max Verstappen’s teammate, one that led Daniel Ricciardo to quit, and Pierre Gasly and Alex Albon to be demoted for not being able to keep up with him. She has no doubts about the fact that if needed, Red Bull will be happy to replace her with either of the junior drivers next year - especially since her contract for next year still hasn’t been renewed.

In a bizarre turn of events, with seven laps to go, she feels droplets. As if on cue, she hears Jonathan’s voice crackle on the radio. “We’re getting reports of rain in Turn 5 and Turn 7. Do you want to pit for inters? I repeat: pit for inters.”

“I -” Dilara swallows. It’s a gamble at this point, not knowing how hard the rain’s going to come down. Either she pits now and loses track position or she stays out and risks skidding on a wet track, possibly crashing. I need points. Her heart starts racing. “Where will I come out if I pit?” she asks.

“P15,” comes the reply. “But we think others will come in to pit as well so you can make up track position. The rain will get stronger.”

In a sport where everything is determined by fractions of a second, she doesn’t have the luxury of weighing the pros and cons. If she’s the one of the first people to pit, she can get back her lead. If she’s one of the only people to pit… well, Pierre and Alex are doing just fine. 

She makes the decision in a split second. “Alright, I’m coming in.”

As Jonathan predicted, nearly every car in front of her comes in to pit for inters as well, the ideal tyres for a wet track. The only ones that don’t are Lando, who predictably skids and falls out of the points, and Lance Stroll. Even Max comes in too late, by which time she’s already in a podium position, in the top three. In an epic twist, the Korean Grand Prix is won by Sebastian Vettel, Daniel Ricciardo in P2 and Dilara in P3.

When she jumps out of the car and takes off her helmet and balaclava, only to immediately get drenched in the rain, she can’t even bring herself to care. The entire Red Bull team is standing at the barriers, waiting to cheer for not only her, but other two as well. Photographers are going crazy clicking all three podium sitters, but Dilara is too winded to care. 

Even hours later, when she’s on her way to Christian’s office for a late meeting, she’s still dizzy with happiness. From pole position, to being out of the points, to snagging a podium in a wet race is classic, iconic even. She hurries up to his office, waving at staff leaving the paddock under umbrellas as she takes the stairs two at a time. The rain has slowed down but hasn’t stopped; after a rainy podium celebration combined with sticky champagne all over the podium sitters, she hurried to her changing room to shower quickly before heading to Christian’s.

She’s hoping it’s him telling her that she’s signed for next year; it’s the only thing she can think he’d want to tell her that he wouldn’t need Max for. Lexie has been invited, too, which can only mean it has something to do with her driving or her training. Hair wet from her shower and getting wetter from the rain, she jogs up the wet stairs, careful not to slip.

“... probably taking pictures or something…” She hears Christian’s muffled voice from his office. “... with Driver of the Day…”

“I’m coming!” Dilara calls, and a bunch of voices laugh. She can make out Lexie’s husky one and realises she’s the last one to arrive.

“Careful, don’t injure yourself!” Christian’s trademark voice is unmistakable. 

“I’m sorry I’m late!” She yells as she hurries down the wet corridor. “Got caught in the rain and - whoa!” She almost slips in the doorway of the office and catches the doorknob just in time. The laughter gets even louder and Dilara can’t help but laugh as well, sweeping her wet hair out of her eyes and off her face.

“There she is!” Christian exclaims, smiling proudly with his arms outstretched. There’s a smattering of applause in the room and she’s immediately engulfed in a rare fatherly hug from her team principal. “Pole and a podium! You deserved being voted Driver of the Day, darling,” he says, kissing her on the cheek.

“Aw, thanks, Christian,” she says, her cheeks hurting with how much she’s smiling. “Wouldn’t have been possible without the team and the pit -” She breaks off, finally noticing the others in the room. Apart from a few Red Bull staff members milling about, and Lexie, one side of the long table has none other than all seven members of BTS seated at it.

Dilara can feel her smile fade slightly and she looks away before it can become too obvious. She turns immediately to Lexie, widening her eyes at her friend in a what the fuck way, but all Lexie does is give her a small shrug and an apologetic shake of the head, meaning she has no idea what this is about either. Dilara moves towards the empty seat next to her, directly across from the band, certain that even BTS can’t dampen her mood today. 

“Alright, now I know you’ve probably had enough champagne to last the rest of the night,” says Christian, waving a bottle of Moet in his hand, “but I think we all deserve one more drink before we’re done with this weekend.” Before Dilara can respond, champagne flutes are filled halfway and being passed around. 

Christian raises his own glass and beams at her. “I know you didn’t have a great beginning to the season. March and April were…” he trails off, shaking his head sympathetically, while her cheeks burn because she’s sure it’s sinking in for the seven men across the table as to why those months might have been bad for her. “In any case, you recovered like a champ. Monaco was splendid, Silverstone was… well, you remember what Silverstone was like,” he grins, and she can’t help but smile at the memory. “And this weekend, you proved how right we were to sign you. To the driver of the day… Dilara.”

“Dilara,” everyone choruses. Dilara’s cheeks are burning with pleasure but for some reason, when everyone raises their glasses, she glances over at the band. All of them are looking at her with various kinds of formal smiles, but her gaze seems to gravitate towards V. He’s smiling at her with what looks like pride; the sight almost makes her want to throw up and she begins to wonder in disgust just how much he’s getting paid to sit here and put on such a show.

“Thank you,” she mutters in their direction, noticing how Christian frowns when she looks away from them. Everyone drinks and she downs hers instantly; a few people chuckle and she realises that she and Jimin have finished before everyone else. She almost - almost - slips and gives him a small smile, when she remembers the last time she’d had champagne with the band: the night of her first race win in Austin last November - the night she and V had got together.

Her heart lurches and she looks away again, wanting Christian to just get on with it so she can leave. 

He has no such intentions, though. “So, are you two taking the red eye back to London tonight?” Christian asks her and Lexie. “D’you want a ride to the airport?”

“Oh, no, we’re actually not going back tonight,” she answers. “Our friend Chris is from Seoul originally so we’re driving down to his place after this for a few days.”

“Oh, it’s a really cool city,” chimes in Vicki, acknowledging the seven Seoul residents that Dilara, until this very moment, had not remembered would be there. “You’ve never been?”

She shakes her head. “First time in South Korea.”

“Great,” says Christian jovially, voice still dry as ever, “now you have the most famous band in South Korea to show you around, too.” 

Dilara gives a half-hearted chuckle, hoping to all ends that he won’t say anything that will force her to hang out with BTS in Seoul. Fortunately, he doesn’t, and when she sneaks a look at the band, she spots Jungkook with wide, almost hurt eyes and V biting his lip and looking down. A memory surfaces without warning, of a boyfriend promising to show her Seoul at night, the beach at Incheon, his family’s farm in Daegu, a weekend away on Jeju Island…

Her eyes meet V’s for a moment and she imagines he’s remembering the same thing, but she looks away before she can read too much into his expression. There’s no point hashing out the past, especially when it changes nothing. She looks up at Christian again and exhales, hoping he finally gets on with it.

“Alright,” he begins, clapping his hands in a businesslike fashion, “so you’re probably wondering what this is about. Don’t worry, Max was already briefed about this before he left, but since you two will be involved marginally more than him, I thought this was the best way to let you know.”

Dilara frowns in confusion. It can’t be the contract extension he’s talking about, because why would Max need to be briefed about that? Moreover, why would Lexie need to be briefed about this? And why in heaven’s name is Bangtan fucking Sonyeondan here for it?

“As you know, Red Bull has put in a lot of money into marketing this year,” he continues, apparently not noticing her internal struggle. “With you and Max as a legendary pairing in the team’s history, along with world-famous brand ambassadors,” he nods at BTS, but Dilara doesn’t move her gaze from him, “they’ve got a two month-long PR stint planned that will start right after summer break, with Belgium and end with…” He looks around at Vicki.

“Japan,” she supplies. 

Japan… so, Suzuka. Dilara’s still processing why the name of the circuit makes her stomach roll, when she remembers that she hasn’t the faintest idea what Christian is talking about. “Wait, um… so what’s the - the PR plan?”

“The drivers and the band,” he answers simply, as though the answer should be obvious. “You and Max, along with BTS, for a bunch of PR things - junkets, photoshoots, adverts, some of those Instagram whatchamacallits -”

“ - lives -”

“- and - yes - and anything else that they might need, all to launch over the next few months.” He claps his hands again and gestures warmly towards BTS. “Two months of content, rolled out over the next quarter. This is the best time slot we could get, before the gentlemen here need to start preparing for their tour and you -” He points to her “- will need to get rid of all distractions before the final races of the season.”

Dilara can’t help but wonder why distractions can’t simply be eliminated altogether in that case, but Christian leaves her no room to respond, plowing on with vigour.

“As a result, Red Bull has offered to make it an all expenses paid experience - hotels, food, travel - the whole shebang. Oh, and of course, Lexie is also included,” he adds generously. “Can’t have your training interrupted during this or who knows what -”

“Um, hang on,” she says suddenly, cringing when she realises she’s interrupted Christian. “Sorry, but is…” She wants to frame it in a way that doesn’t let on that she has any inside knowledge at all. “Big Hit is okay with this?”

“Big Hit -” Dilara almost chokes when she hears RM respond, and grudgingly turns to look at him. “Big Hit and Red Bull came up with this together. They think it’ll be really good exposure for both sets of fans.”

The irrefutable nature of this logic makes her want to hurl. RM had himself told her, months ago when they were at the Austin GP for publicity, that just being spotted and photographed in an F1 paddock alone had led to an unanticipated rise in their sales and numbers. Moreover, it had introduced a whole new demographic of listeners for BTS: F1 fans, which included an overwhelming percentage of men who were pleasantly surprised with BTS’s music and the fact that it wasn’t as boyband-y as they thought.

Dilara tears her eyes away from him and looks at Christian again, dreading his answer to her next question. “What did you say about… all expenses paid?”

He grins, as though relieved she’s getting to the good stuff. “Yes, they mean all expenses paid. Hotels, obviously - oh, and I think there’s a beach house in one location, too -” He looks over at Vicki for confirmation, who nods. “Obviously, you’ll still have to live in a motorhome for part of the Europe leg, like the other drivers,” he adds apologetically, “but since BTS will be living out of rented accommodations, I insisted on a home gym in each place and full access for you in every one of them.” He gestures magnanimously to Lexie. “With Lexie there as well, there should be no interruption to your training.”

There’s something odd in the way Christian is phrasing his words, almost like he’s customised this arrangement for - and only - here. “What about Max?” she asks after a moment.

“Well, he’ll be there off and again,” he answers nonchalantly, “but he’s a contender for the world championship. We can’t let him get distracted. It’s in his contract.”

Of course. Red Bull’s golden boy gets to focus on his career while Dilara is left to pick up what’s left of her own and also carry out a majority of their rubbish marketing plan all on her own. She tries not to seethe too openly, and takes a deep breath. “So, me and Lexie… maybe Max and Dean…” she says slowly, “... and - and BTS?”

“That’s right. Alright, now Vicki’s going to talk logistics - although I suppose we can always email that to you. Vick, d’you think we should get Big Hit on a conference call…”

Dilara’s blood runs cold. She feels like she’s frozen to her seat, silently amazed at how the universe has managed to find the one thing that could, in fact, successfully ruin her mood after one of the best races of her life. She can’t even fight this; with all the times Christian has made sure to mention that Red Bull is pouring shit tons of money into this project, it’s fairly clear that if she has any hope of getting signed next year, she can’t mess with their precious marketing plan.

Two months of hanging around her estranged ex-boyfriend and his loyal friends, working with them… to get signed next year. It’s Red Bull, the reasonable, ambitious part of her says weakly. It’s a Red Bull seat… if you have any hope of fighting for a championship, ever… this is it.

It takes her a few moments of sitting in silence among chattering voices to realise she’s already resigned herself to this. Her chest feels like it’s closing up again, the unfairness and injustice of it all creeping up her throat. But she refuses to let anyone, especially her newest colleagues, see how much it’s affecting her; the only thing worse she can think of than being dumped is showing her ex she still cares.

She looks up at Vicki. “Um… can I be excused for a moment?” she asks, somewhat relieved at how calm she sounds.

Vicki nods and Dilara stands up from her chair; without looking at anyone, she walks out of the office at a steady pace until the door closes behind her and she’s standing at the railing, the rain slowing down outside. Without thinking about it, she slips out a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of her hoodie and places one between her lips, flicking the lighter on and taking a long, desperate drag.

She hears footsteps behind her and a “Don’t!” that she recognises as Lexie’s voice. She turns to see her trainer hurrying towards her with a determined look on her face. Behind her, V stands just outside the door, eyes wide and expression sombre. Just when their eyes meet, Dilara feels herself getting shoved.

“What the hell is the matter with you?” Lexie whispers furiously, forcing her into the room next door and snatching the cigarette from her hand, putting it out against the wall and chucking it in a dustbin. “What if someone sees? What if you get photographed?”

She’s right, of course. It’s reckless and stupid to smoke in an F1 paddock and Dilara is so angry with herself that finally, after months of trying to be strong, she starts to cry.

“Oh, fuck.” Lexie sighs and hugs her immediately, holding her tight. “Fuck, I know it sucks, D.”

“It’s not fair!” Dilara exclaims, pulling away. “After everything - I have to see him again? I have to - what? Work with him? Pretend we’re friends? Act like he didn’t -” Here, her voice breaks.

“I don’t understand it,” says Lexie quietly, shaking her head. She looks almost as troubled; her dark eyes are unfocused and she’s biting her lip, as though wondering where she went wrong. “Maybe they’re trying to make the European leg of the calendar and their European PR coincide? I don’t know...”

“I can’t believe this,” whispers Dilara shakily, furiously wiping at the tears escaping. “How could they say yes? How could -” There’s too many questions that can’t be answered so she kicks the dustbin with as much force as she can, watching it get thrown against the wall and its contents spill out on the floor. After staring at it for a moment, she sighs and gets on her knees, picking them up.

Lexie joins her. “We won’t talk to them. We won’t do anything with them - not unless we have to,” she says in a low voice, encouragingly. “You’ll have me and Max - and both of us have your back when it comes to this. Alright?”

Dilara nods, feeling wretched, but knowing she has to do this for her career. “Yeah,” she mutters, her voice hoarse, standing up. “Come on, let’s go back inside. It’s not like this can get any worse.”

~

Thank you for reading. Don't forget to drop a review :)

[queer-coded-camaro-driver]

Fic prompt concept….Eddie/Chrissy and Steve/Billy double date. Where would they go? What would they do? Do Billy and Eddie fist bump under the table because they both bagged the prettiest people in Hawkins??? Give me the details.

Ahhhh thank you so much! This kind of ran away with me and turned into a whole fleshed-out idea about exchanging class rings but here we go.

Edissy and Harringrove fluff!!

---

Steve is trying his best to have fun but it’s quickly becoming a challenge. Billy, Eddie, and Chrissy are excellent skaters. They whirl around the rink with ease; Eddie even shows off a little by hiking Chrissy into the air or spinning her around in tight circles by the hips. She flings her head back to giggle, curly ponytail bouncing, her boyfriend’s too-big shirt billowing where it isn’t tucked into her tight denim shorts. They’re a picture of ease, the cutest couple at the rink.

Steve clings to the wall, scooting incrementally around the room. 

Billy pulls up to his side, slipping an arm around his waist to try guiding him into the fray. “Woah there, cowboy.”

“C’mon, princess, it’ll be fun. I won’t let go of you or let you fall, I promise.”

“Pinky swear?” the older boy squints, holding up his hand. Billy wraps his pinky around Steve’s and nods once.

“Pinky swear.” He leans toward the center of the floor and Steve lets go of the wall, allowing the blond to take control. He keeps his knees bent the way Billy taught him and clings to the younger boy’s bicep with both hands. “That’s it, pretty boy. You’ve got this.”

After two slow but successful passes around the floor, Steve catches the hang of roller skating and straightens up a little. He releases Billy’s arm from his vice grip. “This isn’t so bad! It’s kind of fun, actually.”

“Told you,” Billy smiles. Really smiles. 

Eddie and Chrissy pause their flipping and twirling. The cheerleader drags her boyfriend over by the wrist. “I’m gettin’ hungry. You guys want to hit the snack bar for refreshments?”

There are nods all around. Billy insists he can cover a pizza to split and Eddie claims responsibility for their drinks, leaving Steve and Chrissy to flap their hands and argue uselessly about pitching in. It takes some grumbling and bartering, but eventually it’s agreed that they can pick up the bill “next time” the four hang out together. 

As the two metalheads skate off toward the snack bar, Steve hears Billy say: “Refreshments? Demanding to pay for dinner? How’d we bag such sweet dates, Munson?”

“Good luck?” Eddie shrugs. Chrissy elbows Steve in the ribs, clearly just as amused and pleased as him about their boys’ commentary. 

“What cuties, huh?” she grins. 

“Yeah. He’d skin me alive if he heard me saying it, but Billy is the most kindhearted marshmallow I’ve ever met. I want to raise his kids and wash his car by hand and make him dinner every day.”

“You’re a shit cook, Harrington,” the cheerleader quips. Steve is too excited about sitting down in the booth without tripping or falling over to fight back. 

“My point still stands.”

“You’d make a great housewife,” Chrissy parks herself across from him at the table with far more grace than he could ever manage. “An apron, some oven mitts, a nice pearl necklace…”

“Chrissy,” Steve gawks. “That's so gross!”

“What are you talking about!? You’re the one with your mind in the gutter.”

“Whatever.”

There's a beat of silence and then...

“Has he given you his ring yet?” she asks, fiddling with the hem of her shorts. 

“His class ring?” Steve clarifies. Chrissy nods, curls bobbing. She’s nibbling on her bottom lip nervously, as if Eddie Munson would ever consider leaving her again now that he’s finally managed to win her over. Steve reaches across the table and pats her on the arm encouragingly. “I’m sure Eddie is planning to offer you his ring, Chris. If he can find the damn thing in that pigsty of a room.”

“He is kind of a mess, isn’t he?” 

“Duh, he’s a teenage boy. We don’t grow out of the messiness until our early twenties, or so I’m told,” Steve answers. She smiles again, shoulders lax with relief. “And to answer your question, no. Billy hasn’t given me his class ring yet, either.”

Chrissy repeats his earlier back to him sentiment in her soft, bright voice, “I’m sure he will.”

Steve certainly hopes so; he wants nothing more than to keep Billy Hargrove. To make him happy.

—

“Are you really here with Chrissy Cunningham?” Duane Levington asks from behind the snack counter. Eddie crosses his arms over his chest. 

“Yeah, why?”

“That’s cool, man. She’s super nice.”

“Oh, well, yeah. That’s kind of why I’m going out with her. Total sweetheart.”

“Right,” Duane nods. Billy and Eddie put in their order and take their call number. 

“You gonna give her your class ring tonight like you planned?” Billy bumps his shoulder into Eddie’s and nearly crashes the taller boy into a trash can. 

“Hey! Watch it, Hargrove. And yeah, I am. When’re you gonna give yours to Steve?”

“I… I can’t,” Billy sighs. “I gave it to someone back in California and never got it back. Now he probably expects one and I’m not sure what to do.”

“Give me a week, buddy, and I’ll have something even better for you to give your pretty boy.”

“Thanks, man.” 

“Of course. Anything for my two best friends.”

"Also never fuckin' call Harrington 'pretty boy' again, got it?"

"Jeez, yeah. Sorry."

---

ONE WEEK LATER

---

Steve practically bounces up to Chrissy in the aisle of Family Video and pokes her in the ribs to make her jump. “Hey, what the fu– Oh, hey Harrington. What’s up?”

“He finally did it!” Steve holds up his hand and wiggles his pointer finger. “I mean, it’s not a class ring ‘cause that’s back in California… but close enough!”

Chrissy whoops and throws her arms around his neck, both of them jumping up and down as Robin watches with equal parts disdain and amusement. 

“Did Eddie make that?” the cheerleader points. The heavy silver skull resting at the base of Steve’s finger glints under the dim lights as he turns it back and forth. 

“Yeah, but Billy designed it to match his tattoo.”

“Gross!” Robin blurts. She throws her hands in the air and gestures wildly all the way back into the sorting room. “You guys are all super gross!”

“We know!” Steve shouts back. Chrissy laughs, Eddie’s ring glinting on her finger, the base wrapped in yarn to keep it from slipping off. “Congrats, Chris. I’m happy for you.”

“You too, Harrington. We bagged the hottest boys in Hawkins!”

“Damn straight.”

“Well…”

“Shut up, Cunningham.”

[considerablecolors]

Cursed SAF Movie Adaptation

So, obviously we are all in agreement that a SAF movie would be incredible. But. As we all know, musical movie adaptations do not always work out (cough cough dear evan hansen cough cough). So, here are a few ideas for the worst SAF movie possible:

It's co-directed by Tom Hooper and Ryan Murphy. I have nothing else to say here.

James Corden plays Curt Mega. This is a given. Bonus points if a bunch of unnecessary and uncomfortably-close-to-homophobic gay jokes are added to the script and James says all of them in a "gay accent".

Chris Pratt plays Owen. A slightly less obvious choice, but still an important one. Chris grows out his hair for the role, but instead of keeping it Joey's length, he grows it out absurdly long and puts it in a ponytail that flaps in the wind during the staircase scene.

Not a single original actor of SAF is invited to reprise their role. However, it is announced that Darren Criss will be in the film. While the fandom is saddened to hear there won't be any TCB members, we are, of course, thrilled by the Darren Criss news. Until we find out who he's playing.

So, the directors of this movie blessedly keep the Curt & Tatiana friendship. However, they decide there just isn't enough romance in the story. So, they decide to give Tatiana (played by Chrissy Teigen) a love interest. This love interest is Hans, one of Von Nazi's henchmen (played by Darren Criss.) After Not So Bad (a song which probably should have undergone rewrites and was instead extended to be 10 minutes long), Hans helps Tatiana leave and tells her where Curt is being held so she can rescue him. The two share a brief kiss.

Later on in the show, during the couch scene, Prisoner of My Past is replaced with an incredibly basic love song about how Tatiana has always loved Hans and that even though he's a Nazi, she truly believes he's a good person. (Nothing is done to combat this idea.) We never learn about Tatiana's backstory with the KGB, or her family. Her entire character is reduced to Curt's friend and love interest. The new love song is nominated for an Oscar. It does not win.

Speaking of, let's take a look at what songs are cut from the show, since every adaptation cuts a few: Spies Are Forever is cut and replaced with a stale 5 minute, no-dialogue cold opening. An instrumental of The Coldest Goodbye plays over it, but without lyrics. Eyes On The Prize I and II are both cut. (Barb's Lament is extended and becomes its own number.) We Love The Prince! is turned into a club song, as Vanger will be played by RuPaul. One More Shot is cut and replaced with a montage of them drinking, during which a 30-second instrumental of One More Shot plays. Spy Dance plays during the credits, but only after a terrible pop-cover of Tatiana's love song plays.

For whatever reason, the staircase scene no longer takes place on a staircase. It's not even in the Russian Weapons Facility. It's out in the middle of some random field, and Curt and Owen are standing like ten feet apart the whole time yelling the dialogue to each other. It's kind of like the end of Deathly Hallows, but there's not even any magic lasers. They're just fucking yelling across the field at each other.

Anyway, I think if I list anything else I might have a stroke (/j) so I'll end it here lmao.

[dunkzillla]

Purple Haze ; Bryan Danielson x Daniel Garcia

Danny’s purple suit and those gif sets of the end of their match at the House of Dragon dynamite really got to me. So. Here you go.

Title: Purple Haze

Pairing: Bryan Danielson/Daniel Garcia

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Sexual Content (Blowjobs, Come Marking, Possessive Behaviour), Language

Word Count: 1989

AO3 Link

“Purple’s your colour, I think.”

Daniel turns around, sees Bryan standing in the doorway, ring gear still on with a towel slung around the back of his neck.

“Shut up.”

“I mean it, you even made the bucket hat look good. Looked better than the one you used to wear, anyway.” Bryan steps into the room, and Daniel feels a shiver go down his spine. There’s something about the way that Bryan moves, more like a snake than a dragon, slow determined movements, stalking his prey until he’s ready to strike. It doesn’t matter how long they’ve been doing this now, that the back and forth dance he’s had to do with him and Chris has finally come to an end, he doesn’t think that he’ll get used to the feeling of Bryan’s eyes on him, hungry and full of desire. Bryan hasn’t been shy about wanting him, hasn’t been shy about telling him he deserves better than what the JAS has been giving him. Daniel’s been shy though. This is his hero, the man he’s watched for years, the man he’s looked up to and wanted to be since he fell in love with wrestling. It’s a lot to take in.

“No more hats now though, right?” He says, putting his belt back into the carry case. He’s still got the stupid suit on, he’d watched Bryan and Matt’s match on the monitors and then made his way back to the locker room and hasn’t had chance to change yet.

“I mean, I’m sure we could sort a BCC hat that isn’t too offensive, if you really want one.” Bryan dumps the towel and steps behind him. His presence is undeniable, solid and warm, somehow so large for a man of smaller stature. Bryan’s hand settles on his hip and turns him around.

His face is still a little flushed with exertion, hair damp with sweat and messy in his ponytail.

Daniel shrugs, gently resting his hands on his chest. He’s still not sure how to touch Bryan without being in the ring or in the middle of sex. It’s stupid, they’ve been doing this for a little while now, he sleeps in the man’s bed most nights, for gods sake, but he’s still an enigma to him. He doesn’t know the lines, what he can do that isn’t too much. They haven’t — they don’t talk about it. It just started and it continued even though Daniel doesn’t know if they’re anything more than fuck buddies. He’s too scared of being laughed at to ask.

“Don’t need one if I get a jacket.”

Bryan huffs out a soft laugh, “I’ll talk to Claudio. He’s got a guy who does them.” His thumb strokes Daniel’s hip, before he leans in, dipping his head to place soft, open mouthed kisses to his neck.

“Bryan…”

“Do you know how hard it was to stand there and listen to him say you belong to him and not do anything? To not react?” He murmurs, lips and tongue teasing across his pulse point, up to the shell of his ear. Daniel’s legs are weak, shaking, and he can’t help but let his fingers hook into Bryan’s trunks, needing something to hold onto to stabilise himself.

“I didn’t let him, I told him, told him I don’t belong—“

“To anyone, you said you don’t belong to anyone, but that’s not true, is it?”

Daniel swallows. “I—“

“Who do you belong to, Danny?” One of Bryan’s hands slides up his chest to wrap around his throat, thumb pressed against the underside of his jaw and tilting his face down so that they’re looking at each other, nose to nose, Bryan’s bright eyes flashing as they search his face.

“You. You I’m — I’m yours Bryan.”

Bryan smiles, brushing their lips together in a barely there kiss, thumb pressing against his jaw harder, feels like there could be a bruise blooming beneath his fingertips. “Show me.” He whispers against his mouth.

Daniel drops to his knees slowly. Bryan likes him on his knees, likes having Daniel beneath him, looking up at him and ready to do whatever Bryan asks of him. He sets his hands on Bryan’s thighs. This is when he knows how he can touch him. He knows that Bryan likes to be worshipped, knows that he likes attention paid to his calves and thighs after a match and before a blowjob. Knows that Bryan likes Daniel to treat him like a God.

Daniel kneads his thighs, massaging the tight muscles as he nuzzles into the crease of his hip. He smells like the ring, that nose tickling plastic smell, mixed with sweat and the faint hint of body wash he’d used before the match. It’s so Bryan that it makes Daniel’s head swim, he wants to bottle of the scent and bathe himself in it, roll around in it until it takes over his own scent. Until all he and anyone else can smell is Bryan. He kisses across his trunk clad cock, feeling him twitch underneath the material. Bryan’s already hard, turned on by the body worshipping and the sight of Daniel on his knees.

“Go on.” Bryan prompts when Daniel noses again at his cock beneath his trunks, silently asking permission to take him out.

Daniel gives him another nuzzle, a thank you for the permission, before tugging his trunks down slightly, just enough to get Bryan’s cock out, keeping them on his hips. He’s flushed and hard, and Daniel opens his mouth wide, tongue out flat as he licks a long strip from root to tip, collecting the precome on the slit and swallowing it down along with most of Bryan’s length.

Bryan’s breath catches in his throat, and his hips buck involuntarily at the wet heat of Daniel’s mouth. He does it every time, his cock so sensitive that it’s like the first time he’s getting his dick sucked every time. Daniel loves it, loves slowly taking the rest of him down his throat and looking up at Bryan as he does so, watching his brows crease and his mouth drop open in pleasure. He chokes when the head of his dick hits the back of his throat, but he stays with his nose pressed against the bed of light curls at the base of his cock. He presses his tongue against the vein on the underside, breathes heavy through his nose.

“You’re so good, aren't you?” Bryan practically purrs at him, running his thumb over the bridge of his nose, across his forehead and then his hand coming to cup the back of his head.

Daniel flutters his eyes. Bryan’s praise ripples through him like a gentle current, starts at the top of his head and makes his way down to the tips of his toes, lighting him up inside in a way that no one’s ever been able to before. The slowness of their little dance should make Daniel bored, he’s a guy who usually likes it hard and fast, going too slow makes him soft and uninterested, but with Bryan, with Bryan Daniel could stay like this for hours, on his knees with his cock in his mouth waiting to be told what to do. He’s hard in these stupid purple pants, wants to clamp his thighs together to feel something but he hasn’t been given permission yet, so he won’t. Because he’s good.

“You like that don’t you? You like when I tell you you’re good,” Bryan strokes his cheek, nudges his cock against the back of his throat making his eyes water. “Be good some more, if you like it so much.”

Daniel doesn’t need to be told twice, he’s not bad, let’s his hand come up to cup Bryan’s balls, rolling them in the palm of his hand the way he likes as he slides his cock nearly all the way out of his mouth before taking him back down again. He sets up his little rhythm that he always does, taking him deep deep deep before suckling on the head, tongue teasing the slit in little kitten licks. It drives Bryan crazy, makes him scrape his blunt nails over the back of Daniel’s head and make animalistic noises every time he takes him back down to the root.

Bryan grunts, pushing Daniel off his cock and taking himself in hand, “God you’re — fucking unreal.” He says, breathless, before growling and jerking his release over Daniel’s face. Daniel lets his tongue lol out, eyes closed and head tipped back as he feels it hit his cheeks, nose, lips and chin.

“Mine.”

Daniel shivers, tongue swiping across his lips and tasting him. Bryan’s a marker. For every time he finishes inside of Daniel he finishes outside at least twice. Bryan likes to know that bruises and bites aren’t the only thing etched into Daniel’s skin when they’ve had sex, likes to rub his release over Daniel’s abs and chest or across his thighs, smearing it and making him wear it until it dries and flakes off.

“Yours.” Daniel’s voice is hoarse, broken and cracked.

“Touch yourself, keep your clothes on.” Bryan instructs, and he uses his thumb to collect some of his come, pushing it into Daniel’s mouth.

Daniel takes his cock out, hard and neglected, weeping and flushed and he hisses as his cool hand wraps around himself. The pre come dribbling from the tip creates a smooth glide, and he jerks himself quick and rough as he sucks on Bryan’s thumb.

“Do you know how good you look? On your knees, covered in my come and jerking yourself off? Dressed in the most obnoxious suit I’ve seen in a good while?”

Daniel gasps, hips stuttering as the praise once again ripples through him. He’s so close, shifts his legs to get up higher, takes Bryan’s thumb deeper into his mouth, looks at him with begging eyes because he needs it, he needs the permission from Bryan to come, he needs to be good.

“That’s it baby, come on, show me how good you are, come for me.”

Daniel gasps again, his orgasm hitting him like a train, splattering over his hand and onto the purple suit pants. “Bryan!”

“There you go, look at you, such a good boy.”

Daniel shudders, and droops forward, head sagging against Bryan’s thigh again.

“Shh, deep breaths.” Bryan murmurs softly, stroking his hand over the back of Daniel’s head and down the back of his neck, kneading tense shoulder muscles as he strokes his damp cheek.

Bryan gets down on his hunches so that they’re face to face, and kisses him. Bryan’s kisses are like medicine, they make him feel alive even when life has drained out of him, they piece back together broken parts.

“You’re good. You’re so good and you’re mine.”

Daniel nods, because it’s true now isn’t it? It’s not something said in the middle of the night but doesn’t ring true the next morning, when Daniel had to walk into the JAS locker room and pretend like he hadn’t slept with the enemy. Now it’s true, because next week, next week he gets to be Bryan’s tag partner against Sammy and Chris. He gets to be in the Blackpool Combat Club, or at least Blackpool Combat Club adjacent, he doesn’t have to dress up in these stupid suits anymore and call himself a sports entertainer when all he wants to do is get in the ring wrestle.

“Yours.” Daniel says against his mouth. He belongs to Bryan.

Bryan helps him up from the floor, secures an arm around his waist and holds him close.

“How do you feel about keeping that on your face until we’re back at the hotel?” He says, running his thumb through the rapidly drying come on Daniel’s cheek.

Daniel flushes and shoves at him, the feeling in his legs finally coming back to him.

“You’re something else, Bryan Danielson.”

[icequeenbae]

Witch Charming (m) | BBH

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Charmed AU, magic, witch!Baekhyun, halfblood!Reader, established relationship, fluffy at times, smut

Warnings: evil!Baek for a sec, rough sex, name-calling, some mild violence, also baby Baek that’ll make you m e l t  (nothing surprising, I’m soft for this boy)

Word Count: ~6.6k

Summary: Baekhyun suddenly disappears from your arms, and you follow just to find him summoned to the past by his family… And accidentally turned evil. The 24-hour chase to set him back on the path of good has already begun.

© Please do not copy/ post on other platforms without permission.

Author’s note: Hey sweethearts!! So excited to finally drop my biggest birthday month story^^ This is based on ep20 s07 ('Imaginary Fiends') of Charmed. I’d say about half of the plot I took from the show, the rest was me running wild with it lol I don’t think you have to be very knowledgeable about Charmed to enjoy this, I tried my best to make it as clear as possible while being somewhat authentic. In case you have no idea what this show is, just treat it as any other fantasy/ magic au. And I’m always here if you have any questions!!

Event: LIGHTS, CAMERA, FANFICTION

Network tag: @supermwritersnet @exo-writers-net​

Tags: @blahblahblah-boo

⬇⬇⬇

Characters (as per Charmed):

Baekhyun as Wyatt (Jinah and Donghyun’s eldest son, the most powerful witch of all time)

Jongin as Chris (Jinah and Donghyun’s youngest son)

Jinah as Piper (oldest sister; power – molecular immobilization/ combustion/ acceleration, i.e. freezing/ exploding)

Jiyeon as Phoebe (middle sister; power – premonition)

Jiwoo as Paige (youngest sister; power – orbing, telekinetic orbing)

Donghyun as Leo (Jinah’s husband, father to Baekhyun and Jongin) 

‘Ghh, Y/N…’  Baekhyun sighed softly, making you smirk.

His chest was flushed and his cheeks were rosy, and you absolutely adored when he got like this. Rolling your hips consistently while holding his wrists down, you coerced the tiniest moans out of him. It was obvious your lover wanted to be vocal, but you were in his family mansion, so he was wary of his parents overhearing. What a baby.

‘Enjoying yourself, little witch?’ You teased, feeling his fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs.

‘Stop it, or I’ll vanquish you…’ He muttered, and you could only snort at his deplorable threat.

‘Somehow… I don’t think you will.’

Leaning in, you planted a playful kiss on his lips before accelerating. He’d been hovering on the edge there for a while.

‘Gonna come for me, baby?’ You traced the shell of his ear with your index finger. ‘In your parents’ house. What a shameless boy you are…’

You knew it wasn’t long now, so you straightened up, doubling the speed and concentrating on the ambrosial feeling in your nether regions as well. It was easy to reach ecstasy when you could watch him all wrought-up and aglow, burning up with you on top of him like this.

Baekhyun’s plump lips trembled, forming a small ‘o’ as he finally came inside you. His breathless moans were so sexy that you followed right behind him, dragging your hips back and forth quickly. As the waves subsided, your movements gradually came to a halt as well. You barely contained a groan when Baekhyun squeezed your butt, pressing himself deeper into you, and shot a frustrated glare his way.

‘Next time we’re casting a spell to make the room soundproof. I want to hear you.’ Grumbling and still out of breath, you slowly slipped off of him.

‘How about we just do it somewhere else?’ He suggested rhetorically, watching with loving eyes while you rearranged your ponytail with a hair tie.

‘I’m too lazy to shower now-’ You nattered, snapping your fingers.

Making you both fresh, and clean, and dressed in sleeping clothes at once came in handy often, yet Baekhyun didn’t usually allow you to practice magic ‘unnecessarily’.

‘Haven’t I told you not to do this? You know it’s per-’

‘Yeah-yeah, personal gain, witchy rules, yada-yada,’ you rolled your eyes, leaning on your elbows. ‘I am half-demon, remember? Besides, how’s it my personal gain if it’s you who’s not covered in all kinds of bodily fluids and is instead resting in his underwear and pj pants comfortably?’

‘You’re wearing a t-shirt to sleep too.’

‘It’s yours, so I say it’s for your pleasure as well. Doesn’t count,’ you shrugged dismissively.

‘Unbelievable,’ he snickered, melting as soon as you scooted closer to turn him slightly and latch onto him from behind.

‘Go to sleep, honey. The sooner it’s tomorrow, the sooner we can get back to supervising the renovation of our condo. I promise you’ll get to fuck me on each surface you like before the housewarming party is even planned…’ You murmured, pinching his belly playfully.

‘How are you always so… so...’

Your lover’s words became a slur, as white lights consumed him, making his body vanish right from your arms.

‘Baek? Baekhyun?’ You called, growing rather agitated, but he was completely gone. ‘What the hell!’

***

Calling out his name had no effect. You knew he always answered your call, so he either couldn’t hear it, or couldn’t come. This already seemed incredibly suspicious, so it was time for you to act fast. Using your demonic power, blinking, you teleported quietly to the attic, where the family heirloom was stored. The gigantic book full of spells created or written down by witches of Baekhyun’s family line. Otherwise known as the Book of Shadows.

The usual spells you’d mastered by now didn’t work, and your attempts to locate or summon Baekhyun were less than fruitful. You figured that there was something magically blocking your tries to snatch him back. So, you decided to get creative and rewrite one of the spells so that it brought you to wherever Baekhyun had disappeared to. You really didn’t want to wake his parents up, but you’d have to if this failed. There was no telling what had happened to your better half, what if he was magically kidnapped or something? The lights around him when he disappeared did not seem demonic in nature, however, you weren’t willing to sit around and wait. You wanted to make sure he was okay, yet the strange feeling in the pit of your stomach strongly suggested otherwise.

Thankfully, when you finished saying the incantation you came up with, it worked its magic immediately. You closed your eyes just for a split second, and then you were... in the attic. Still?

Well, this time you were not alone.

Baekhyun stared at you coldly from across the room, and you were taken aback by his attire. He looked completely different, dressed in leather pants and an aggressively red jacket, hair a peculiar blueish color now…

‘What is-’ You were cut short by Baekhyun’s mom (where did she even come from?) shouting something.

You turned around, just in time to blink – disappear for a second – dodging a fireball shot your way by some pathetic excuse of a demon. An explosion sounded from behind you, and the attic was, once again, a complete mess. Apparently, you dropped yourself into an ongoing struggle, and very likely in some other time.

Too hot-headed to think, you whirled your wrist to draw a glowing blue energy ball and threw it at your attacker. The creature was vanquished. His accomplice tried to escape, but your firepower got him before he could blink out of here.

Coughing at the kicked-up dust, you turned around swiftly to question Baekhyun’s passive behavior in this exchange. This time, however, he wore a weird smirk on his face while disappearing in a swirl of dark orbs.

Dark orbs?!

‘Uh-’ You turned to his mother and aunts, who were eyeing you in high alert. ‘What the hell happened here?’

‘You tell us… Crystals!’ Jiwoo called out and waved her hand, orbing the damn protection stones around you.

Since you had just tapped into your upper-level demonic powers while generating all of the energy balls, the residue was going to linger for a few minutes. This, in turn, made the crystals an efficient trap, caging you just like any other demon. Albeit not for long.

‘What are you even doing?’ You sighed, looking up from the floor. ‘Don’t you know that I can walk out of those? Eomma, you tell them.’

As the dust began to clear, you made out that they looked quite different. Much more different than you first thought. Years younger, or even decades.

‘Eo-eomma?’ Jinah stuttered. ‘Did she just- call me her mom?!’

As your mind caught up with the situation, you gasped.

‘Oh! No, you’re not my real mom. I just call you that because- well- I can’t tell you,’ you rambled to avoid revealing something that they weren’t supposed to know and messing up the future. ‘The actual question is, what happened to Baekhyun? Did you summon him?’

‘How do you know my son?’ Jinah asked cautiously.

‘I- from the future,’ you replied vaguely, clearing your throat at the thought of what went down between you and him less than thirty minutes ago. ‘I was with him when he disappeared. ‘To call a lost witch’ spell didn’t work, so I modified the ‘to find a lost love’ spell, and it took me here.’

‘Okay, how does a demon know spells from the Book of Shadows?’ Jiyeon asked, looking at the older sister.

Of course, they’d be worried. The Book of Shadows was the most powerful magical tome passed down in their family through many generations. Moreover, it never let anyone evil lay a hand upon itself.

‘No-no, I’m not a demon!’ You chirped, reassuring them quickly. ‘Only half-demon. And half-witch.’

‘Great,’ Jinah grumbled.

Nudging the crystal with the tip of your shoe slightly to check if the afterglow of using your demonic powers had worn off, you finally managed to walk out of the magical cage.

‘Hey you, stay where you are!’ Jiwoo warned.

‘Are you gonna whoop my ass if I don’t, auntie?’ You chuckled, approaching the dusty couch. ‘Oh, and allow me…’

You snapped your fingers, the entire mess disappearing, leaving the attic rearranged and completely clean.

‘Good as new,’ you hummed.

‘What- that’s not allowed!’ Jiyeon complained.

‘Oh please, another lecture on personal gain? You guys are boring,’ you plopped on the couch and stretched. ‘Now, are you going to explain what happened with my b- Baekhyun, or not?’

‘I’m pretty sure she was going to say ‘boyfriend’,’ Jiyeon provided.

She was always damn attentive to those slips. Probably made a note to self when you blabbed about the ‘to find a lost love’ spell…

‘Okay, yes. Ugh, I’m so bad at this ‘not saying too much thing’! Although from what I saw – you’ve already spoiled the future. He wasn’t evil when you summoned him.’

‘How can we know that we can trust you?’ Jinah asked.

‘This is hurtful, eomoni. But I understand, it took you a bit to learn to trust me in the future as well,’ you mused. ‘I don’t know, what if I can touch the Book?’

‘The Book has been fooled before,’ Jiwoo responded dryly.

‘Can I read her?’ Jiyeon suggested amiably. ‘I can tap into her memories with my premonitions.’

Jinah nodded, but then turned to you and pointed a menacing finger.

‘Don’t try anything!’

‘Why would I-’

‘Just don’t,’ she quipped.

You rolled your eyes and held out your arm for Jiyeon to touch.

***

The vision she had of you apparently convinced everyone that you weren’t lying. After the initial tensions deflated, you finally got back to the issue at hand.

The sisters explained that they seemed to have trouble with the little Baekhyunie, age two at the current time, so they decided to cast a spell in order to understand what was going on and how to solve it. But the spell backfired, bringing the unsuspecting adult Baekhyun to their time.

Neither of you understood what exactly turned him evil, until his father, Donghyun, peeked through the door, holding his son close.

‘Is everything alright in here?’ He inquired, looking around the strangely neat room.

‘Yeah, we were just-’ Jiwoo began but was interrupted by your excited squeal.

‘Is that… Baekhyunie?!’ You shot up from the couch. ‘He is adorable!! Can I hold him? Please, please, can I hold him? Abeoji-i!’

Donghyun looked at his wife, completely bewildered, and you were almost jumping on the spot.

‘A future girlfriend. Don’t ask,’ Jinah waved off, nodding as he allowed you to scoop the curious boy up in your arms.

‘You’re so tiny,’ you cooed, touching his small hand, and he looked up at you with his enormous chocolate eyes. ‘Aw, little puppy… You’re just too cute!’

The entire room watched as you showered the baby in affection, tickling him, talking to him, and making him giggle. When he burst in a fit of laughter again, hiding his face in your neck shyly while you kissed the top of his head, you finally noticed the stares.

‘Um- what? I’ve always wanted to do that when I saw his childhood pictures, that’s all,’ you defended, getting flushed at your own outburst. ‘I’m not even a ‘child person’… He’s just really cute.’

They exchanged unreadable looks, and Donghyun cleared his throat.

‘Actually, he might be the reason why Baekhyun from the future turned evil. Remember his favorite teddy bear? Well, I think the ‘imaginary friend’ we were worried about was a demon that only he could see and talk to. The demon was building trust with Hyunie for days… And then used his toy to somehow assert that trust? I’m not sure.’

‘Did you see something specific?’ You asked, looking at the child in alarm.

‘I turned away for a second, and then the teddy bear was floating and glowing. I didn’t get to him in time, not before he could touch it. And as he did, the demon materialized… I think he didn’t want to attack me in front of Hyunie to maintain his trust, so he just blinked out of the kitchen.’

‘So, you think that the toy is now cursed or something?’ Jiwoo asked and received a nod from the boy’s father. ‘Well, why does he still have it then? Teddy bear!’

Using her power, she orbed the plushy away from him. Baekhyunie fussed in your arms, reaching out, and orbed the teddy back to himself.

‘Yeah, you know it doesn’t work like that,’ Donghyun sighed, leaning at the doorframe. ‘Maybe we can-’

The crying from downstairs interrupted him.

‘Oh no, Jonginie! Hyunie, orb to your brother and protect him with your orb shield!’ His father instructed, and all of them rushed downstairs.

The baby disappeared from your arms, and you blinked, finding yourself on the first floor. The commotion was seemingly in the kitchen, and you approached it carefully, peeking from behind the wall.

‘What are you doing, siding with demons now? Let him go!’ Jinah sounded angry.

‘Don’t worry, mom. I have no intention of harming him, for obvious reasons.’ It was Baekhyun’s voice. ‘But I won’t let you tamper with his morality anymore. Let’s go, Baekhyunie.’

His voice sounded sinister, and the sisters didn’t manage to hold him back before the dark orbs took him someplace else.

‘Dammit!’ Jinah cursed, as you slipped into the kitchen. ‘He took him!’

‘Calm down. You know he won’t kill him, or he’d disappear himself,’ Donghyun tried.

‘Wow, that’s so comforting, honey!’ She mocked.

‘We need to find him,’ you piped up. ‘He took him for a reason.’

They turned to you, looking quite annoyed, and you explained.

‘The window of opportunity is wide open for him now, he can easily be swayed back to his status quo, which is being good. They want to keep him away until the window closes. To ensure that you cannot change him back easily.’

The sisters fussed around the kitchen, the mother most distressed of all.

‘This can’t be happening. It’s Baekhyun we’re talking about! Why do we keep failing at keeping him good?’

‘It’s okay, Jinah-yah, we’ll find a way.’

You looked at them, getting an idea.

‘Can you, perhaps, ID the demon that cursed his teddy?’

Donghyun turned to you in confusion but nodded.

‘That’s a good idea. Jiwoo, orb Jonginie to magic school, he’ll be safe there,’ Jinah said, turning to Jiyeon and Donghyun right after. ‘And you – come with me. We’re going to find that demon and vanquish his sorry ass!’

***

Baekhyun’s parents seemed quite relentless when it came to the safety and wellbeing of their children. Just as they would be (were?) in the future.

The action began with Donghyun identifying the culprit as Vicus, the demon who preyed on children, especially young witches, turning them down the path of evil. It didn’t take the sisters too long to make the vanquishing potion. Problem was, they still had no idea how to reverse his curse.

‘What if we just get rid of him and hope that does the trick?’ Jiwoo suggested.

‘It’s not impossible,’ you offered, a bit unsure. ‘But I think the solution has to lie in Baekhyun somehow. It’s more likely, don’t you think?’

‘So, you suppose we should be binding his powers or something?’ Jinah asked defensively.

‘Not at all. I just assume it won’t be as simple as that. I want him to turn back too, you know?’ You backtracked.

Something thumped upstairs.

‘Did you hear that?’ Jiyeon asked.

‘Someone’s in the attic! Orb us there, Jiwoo-yah!’

They disappeared in blueish orbs before you could warn them this could be a trap.

Damn were they headstrong! Baekhyun definitely took after his dad in this regard, more rational, balanced, and thoughtful. You were thankful for that, if he was any other way, he wouldn’t have been able to tame your wild half-demonic ass.

Blinking, you reappeared upstairs, watching the scene unfold through the door cracked open.

‘What do you want, Baekhyun? Bring him back!’ Was his mother’s stern voice.

‘I came for my magical inheritance.’

His voice was calm and low as he replied.

‘The Book? You won’t be able to touch it. You’re evil now!’ Yelled Jiwoo.

He approached the Book of Shadows, but, as expected, its magical field protected it from his touch.

‘It’s Vicus, he screwed you up! Is he here, with you?’

You heard glass breaking, indicating that the sisters were throwing potion vials around.

‘Not even close,’ he smirked, clearly amused by their fruitless attempts to get rid of the demon who started all of this. ‘Let me make it easier for you.’

He waved his hand, and the previously invisible demon was now seen.  His expression quickly changed from satisfied to petrified.

‘What did you- Naagrh!’

The scream announced that the potion finally met its target, and the flames destroyed the demon in seconds. But the silence afterward seemed spooky. You wanted to burst into the room, but something told you it was best to stay hidden for now. This Baekhyun was unpredictable.

‘Well, that only achieved… nothing,’ the same dark voice stated. ‘I guess you’re not changing me back after all.’

He disappeared.

The sisters exchanged heavy looks. This situation had become even direr than it used to be. They were wrong about breaking the curse by killing the demon. And now he had a new agenda – like all evil creatures, he wanted to possess the power of the Book. This was extremely dangerous.

‘What are we gonna do now?’ Jinah asked, before turning around to watch you creep into the room.

‘Well, he wants the Book, maybe we can set a trap for him?’ Jiwoo suggested.

‘He probably won’t come if he can sense us here…’

They circled the Book.

‘We can modify the ‘To call a lost witch’ spell to bring him here against his will. But even if he comes at his own volition, we still need to stun him somehow. I could make a potion, but we’ll need to customize it using something of his… his hair, maybe? Where can we find it though?’

‘Maybe I can help?’ You came forward. ‘I can try being a double agent. Fool him into thinking I’m also evil and get you the hair.’

‘This way we’ll be able to summon him, both of… him, use the potion to stun, and then reason with little Baekhyunie while the adult one recovers, right?’ Jiyeon assumed.

‘What’s to say this will even work though?’ Jiwoo was reluctant about that plan.

‘You got a better idea?’ Jiyeon called her out.

‘Sadly, not this time. I guess… I should get to this potion. Jiyeon can write the spell, and you, Jinah… Just think it through. You have the toughest job – getting through to my little nephew. I think convincing him to give the bear up may undo the curse.’

‘I certainly hope so.’ The oldest sister turned to you and nodded. ‘Do it.’

***

The lair you found yourself in was gloomy, to say the least. You could instantly tell you were in the Underworld now. Demons preferred to lurk in dark, unpleasant places like this ugly cave. But this was where your connection with Baekhyun brought you, so he had to be somewhere close by. Of course, you would’ve blinked to his exact location, but it was obvious that he cloaked himself. He didn’t want to be found.

But the two of you had been through a lot together, and him turning into an asshole didn’t mean that the connection simply evaporated. In fact, it seemed like what weakened on your witch-side became stronger on your demonic side. Not that surprising, considering that he was evil now. So, you allowed your inner demon to lead you to him.

‘I wondered if you were to come,’ the low voice almost startled you.

Turning around, you met his sharp eyes.

‘Of course. Took me a while to locate you. Almost got vanquished at your home, too,’ you smirked.

He sized you up slowly, probably still trying to figure out what your agenda was. It was your time to do some acting.

‘I can’t believe you’ve made it this hard for me to find you,’ you complained teasingly, stepping closer to him. ‘Was under the impression that you enjoyed spending time with me…’

By the end of your sentence, you were running your palms up his chest to wrap them around his tense neck. He allowed you this close, it was a good sign.

‘I don’t know, pet,’ his hand squeezed your ass. ‘How can I even trust you?’

People were putting zero faith in you in this time, to the point it was becoming frustrating! You always had to prove yourself.

‘Why wouldn’t you trust your soulmate? We’re literally meant to be together, remember?’

At this, you were referring to the prophecy in the back of the Book that appeared exactly on the day Baekhyun laid eyes on you.

It said that the most powerful descendant of the Byun line of witches, the Charmed offspring, would create the balancing Force of Good, but only if he could learn how to tame the Darkness he fell in love with.

Since prophecies were always gibberish, it was Jiyeon who explained that you had everything to do with this. You were the one who brought darkness to the equation, and he was to help you manage and control it, but also love it as any other part of you. She assumed that the balancing Force meant that it was paramount in preserving the natural struggle between the Good and Evil, the Yin and Yang of the entire world, and it was probably your duo that was meant to keep the scale tipped towards the Good.

Either way, you were destined to be together. And the fact that he changed now meant nothing.

‘Didn’t I make you a complete goody-two-shoes in the future?’ He asked through a sarcastic smirk, hands still roaming your body.

‘You ‘tamed my darkness’. What’s to say you cannot un-tame it?’ Murmuring seductively, you guided his hand under your skirt.

Changing the attire was the right decision.

‘Oh?’ He pulled you flush to his body. ‘Why don’t we continue in a more convenient interior?’

He orbed you into some other cave. It looked much better in comparison with the one you were in before. Like a gloomy underground room with just one entry point. You wondered where that door led.

As soon as you were there, he plopped you onto a large rock that was part of the wall and tugged at your hair. You hummed as he kissed your exposed neck, every touch dangerous as if he could sink his teeth deep into your throat at any given moment.

When he found your lips, it was rough and fast. Your tongue was in his mouth, and then it wasn’t, overpowered by his. The clothed thighs pressed to your core and ground on you.

‘Fuck,’ he breathed into your mouth, lower lip glistening with saliva. ‘I’d love to show you a good time, but I have something urgent to take care of.’

You pouted, running your fingers through his thick hair. His eyes changed for a second, much less cold than before, but you barely caught that fleeting moment. Despite thinking that you’d abhor this Baekhyun, a strange lust was awakened by his proximity, and you somehow felt more drawn to him.

‘But I want you to take care of me now… Can’t it wait another ten minutes?’

He gave you the most lascivious look.

‘What an impatient little slut,’ he gritted, hand reaching down to pull his already hard dick out of his pants. ‘I give you five. Take it or leave it.’

Before you could answer, he was bucking into you.

At the painful sting, you cried out.

‘Sh-h, you’re gonna spook the baby-me,’ he warned, licking his thumb and finding your clit. ‘Just this once. Don’t get used to this.’

With added stimulation, his shallow thrusts became quite bearable, and in a couple of minutes, he could very well take his foot off the brakes.

You held your moans in, now that you realized that he was keeping his past self close by, and only grunted.

‘I haven’t told you this before,’ he almost growled, pulling the hem of your dress further up and looking at where his fingers were playing with you. ‘But this is my favorite view.’

The question in your heavy-lidded eyes prompted him to continue.

‘I love fucking you like this. Completely exposed. Lips wet…’ He chuckled, adding a lewd, ‘Mouth too.’

‘Mh- Feels so good,’ you muttered, reaching out to him.

It was a hopeless try, yet he surprised you by leaning in. You tugged at his hair, making him rumble.

‘Come all over my pussy,’ you hummed before arching your back in pleasure.

Watching you come, Baekhyun delivered a few more rough thrusts, and, as soon as you were done, pulled out and pumped himself.

‘Hh-yes, yes, fuck-’

His face scrunched up, and you felt warm strings of his cum soil your inner thigh. Working his hand, he milked himself dry and stopped only when it became much less pleasant.

Both of you had to take another minute or two to catch your breaths.

‘You know what? Let me take care of my family business, and then we can continue this,’ he hummed, tucking himself in and reaching down to bite your lower lip teasingly.

Smiling at him, you nodded in agreement.

‘I’ll be right back,’ he promised.

‘And I’ll be waiting for you,’ you replied, demonstratively scooping some of his semen from between your legs and shoving the coated finger into your mouth.

‘Oh, just give me a second, whore.’

He disappeared behind the door, and you quickly snapped your fingers to clean up and restore your clothing. A second later – you were in the middle of the attic.

‘Incoming!’ You announced, alerting the sisters. ‘Here, the hair.’

Jiwoo motioned for you to drop them into the potion, and then distributed it in three vials. Just to be safe.

‘How did you even get those?’ Jinah asked.

‘I don’t think you, as his mother, would want to know…’ Jiyeon remarked, subtly motioning for you to cover your neck.

He probably did leave a mark or two…

There wasn’t much time before Baekhyun was to make an appearance, so you decided to hide and make sure they had this. And you disappeared just in time – a second before the dark orbs revealed him, holding his younger self’s hand. Upon arrival, he examined the room, taking notice of his family. All present and ready for combat.

‘You better get out of my way,’ he waved a hand, and the three sisters were thrown to the side, clearing the path to where the Book was. ‘Let’s get what we came here for.’

He was addressing the child. Your eyes widened as you realized – he wanted to use his younger self somehow to gain access to the Book of Shadows.

‘You left us no choice!’ Jinah shouted, throwing a potion vial his way.

He stopped in his tracks, letting go of the tiny hand. And then turned around.

Although you watched from outside of the room, you could feel his dark aura become even more intense. They had angered him.

‘You really… shouldn’t have done this,’ he gritted, and Jiwoo threw another vial at him before Jiyeon screamed for Hyunie to get away.

Losing his temper, Baekhyun shocked the Charmed sisters with his power. Although the potions did weaken him, he was still powerful enough to bring harm to them. The force had flung their bodies to the wall and held them there, floating in the air and unmoving.

‘Didn’t I tell you to stay out of my way?’ He rumbled, making them yelp in pain from the sheer force.

That was it. You couldn’t stay behind any longer. Using his momentary distraction, you slipped into the room and reached the scared boy left in the middle of the attic with only his teddy bear to hold onto.

‘Hyunie,’ you called softly, dropping down on your knees next to him. ‘I know you’re scared, sweetie, but I won’t let anyone hurt you, okay?’

He looked at you silently, chocolate eyes big and trusting.

‘We can help your mommy and aunties. But you have to do me a little favor first,’ you stroked his head almost motherly. ‘Would you let noona hold your teddy? Just for a second. I’ll give it right back, promise.’

‘What are you doing?!’ Baekhyun roared, glaring at you over his shoulder, and allowing the sisters to fall to the floor as he turned his attention to you.

That was when Jiyeon threw the third vial at him, stalling him for a few moments to buy you time as he struggled against the magical effects of the potion, becoming completely enraged.

‘I’ll protect you from him, sweetie. Please, let me hold-’

Baekhyunie outstretched his arm, offering you his toy. You wasted no time, snatching it out of his hands.

The teddy bear began to glow.

‘No!’ Baekhyun yelled, breaking out of the potion’s confines, and conjuring a powerful energy ball to throw your way.

There was no time to do anything but leap forward, covering the boy next to you with your whole body. To shield him from the deadly hit at all costs.

An explosion sounded, and there were voices and screaming… But you still held the tiny body to your chest, protecting him from any impact.

The truth was… you felt no impact.

Opening your eyes, you searched the floor for signs of blood or any destruction. Slowly turning around, you saw Baekhyun. His hair was back to normal color, and his clothes were ordinary too. He was back.

‘What- I-’ Baekhyun turned around, finding his family on the floor. ‘Mom! Oh my god!’

He rushed to help them up, and you noticed that the room had a blue-ish hue to it. And then you realized…

Baekhyunie held his orb shield up to protect you.

Unwrapping his tiny arms from your waist, you met his puppy eyes.

‘It’s okay, Hyunie,’ you cooed. ‘You can lower your defenses; the evil is gone. We’re safe now.’

You took his teddy bear from the floor and shook it to get the dust off before handing it back to the boy. He pressed it to his chest, but then looked at you again with the same trusting gaze. Melting under it, you scooped the boy up, rocking him from side to side.

‘You did great,’ you murmured, lips tickling his temple with a smooch. ‘Protected noona and saved the future. Baekhyunie is the best boy.’

Scrambling yourself off the floor, you finally brought the quietly giggling pile to his mother.

‘Oh, thank god!’ Jinah clamored, taking him from you.

She and Jiwoo fussed over the boy, while Jiyeon rubbed your forearm sympathetically.

‘Are you okay?’ She asked.

‘Yeah. Baekhyunie used his shield to protect us both, so not a scratch.’

‘Better tell him that,’ she tilted her head, motioning at Baekhyun, who stared down at his feet awkwardly a few steps away from you.

‘Hey stranger,’ you called, approaching him and instantly wrapping your arms around his torso.

He ‘oh’-ed in surprise and reciprocated timorously.

‘I’m- so sorry,’ he sighed, and you looked up in surprise. ‘For everything I did… I didn’t-’

‘Hey-hey-hey, hold on,’ you interrupted him. ‘It wasn’t your fault, the demon corrupted you as a baby, changing your future personality as a result. You’re fine now, and no one was hurt… not too much anyways,’ you corrected sheepishly.

Baekhyun’s eyes looked distressed, so you touched his face tenderly.

‘It really is okay now, baby. We’re all doing great, right?’ You turned to Jinah and the others, and they nodded, proving your point.

‘Are you sure you are all fine? No one needs healing?’ He still inquired anxiously.

‘Nah, we’re fine, really,’ Jiwoo waved him off. ‘And I think you should be on your way back already!’

‘She’s right, you know?’ You turned to Baekhyun, who was scratching his head.

‘What about all the knowledge? Of the future?’

‘I’ll ask the Elders to do their memory dust trick on us.’ Jiwoo promised, and you simply nodded. ‘We messed up enough of the future for one day.’

It was time for goodbyes, so all of you took turns hugging each other.

When it were Jiyeon’s arms around you, her voice whispered mysteriously in your ear.

‘The Balancing Force will be your third offspring.’

‘What?!’ You couldn’t help but exclaim.

‘Sh-h! I read it off of you and I have no clue what it means but… take care. Both of him and yourself. And start breaking your wedding shoes in well in advance,’ she winked at you, stepping away so that you could say bye to Jinah.

‘Someone else wanted to say something,’ she smiled, putting Baekhyunie down so that he could approach you himself.

You crouched down to be more or less on the same level as the boy and waited for him to do whatever it was he wanted to do.

As it turned out, Hyunie wanted to present you with his precious teddy.

‘Is that for me?’ You asked when an astonished gasp sounded from the sisters.

The boy nodded shyly.

‘For favorite noona.’

You blinked. This was the single sweetest thing that anyone had ever done for you. He was so adorable it was impossible to handle.

‘Hm, you know what?’ You began, offering him to take his beloved toy back. ‘Could you keep this bear safe for me? And next time we meet – when you’re all grown up – you can give it to me. If you still think noona is your favorite. Would you do that for me?’

He nodded firmly, taking his task seriously, and you nearly squealed again at his cuteness.

‘Be a good boy always, Baekhyunie,’ you told him and kissed his plump rosy cheek.

‘The spell is finished!’ Jiwoo announced, waving a tiny sheet of paper.

Baekhyun nodded, looking at you as if to ask ‘Are you ready?’.

‘Let’s go home,’ you smiled, and the sisters began chanting.

 ‘Son in the future, son in the past,

seeing anew what once had passed.

Return him now from whence he came,

His love to follow, all be the same.’

 When you opened your eyes, you were back to where you were when Baekhyun disappeared on you. The bedsheets were still as messy as you’d left them, and you noticed something new – a tiny teddy bear – sitting at the top of the nightstand. He kept it for you. It wasn’t even a question since he had no other toys in his room. Having two younger siblings, he didn’t get to keep much memorabilia. But that one he did.

Just as you wanted to point that out, he released your hand and wrapped it around his waist. You glanced at him, noticing that he was even more upset now.

‘Baek-’ You began, but he shook his head, shutting you down.

‘I know you told me it isn’t my fault. But- I understand if you want nothing to do with me anymore.’

He gulped a breath, bracing himself to continue.

‘You’ve sacrificed enough to save my future, Y/N… I can’t ask-’

‘Well, shielding Baekhyunie was hardly a sacrifice. Hi- your shield protected me from all and any harm, really.’ You reached out, but he still didn’t let you touch him.

‘I didn’t mean that.’ His answers only added to your perplexity. ‘I meant the- how- you let me use you to get closer and stop me…’ He trailed off.

Oh.

O-o-oh.

‘Baekhyun,’ you sighed, stepping closer to him until he had nowhere to move away, and forcefully trapped him in your arms. ‘You listen to me very carefully.’

He didn’t look at you at all, but you could tell he was paying attention.

‘I did what I had to, that is true, but- Please, don’t misunderstand! It doesn’t mean that I- didn’t- enjoy it,’ you finally got it out, and he turned to you in confusion.

‘Enjoy… it?’

‘Yes. I- How do I describe it… When you turned evil, I wanted to change you back. I love you the way you are. Your gentle heart, your good deeds… You treat everyone well, you’re a loving son, big brother, and cousin, and a great friend. Lecture me about personal gain and using our powers for good all day long!’ You teased, earning a small smile. ‘But- I cannot say I couldn’t relate to you when you became evil. It felt… Exciting even. I know it’s probably freaking you out, but it’s no secret that I have a dark side to me, and I guess it is easier for it to relate to you when you have it too…’

You looked at the floor in shame, still holding onto him tight, as if to prevent him from orbing away and leaving you here alone. He swallowed audibly before speaking up again.

‘Everyone has a dark side. I wouldn’t turn bad just like that if I didn’t have one,’ he said, tracing your features with his eyes. ‘If I give in to the darkness and let it rule, I might become evil. How come your demon half doesn’t relate to me?’

‘Because your father is a whitelighter, Baek. You’re literally part witch, part angel…’ You rolled your eyes.

‘So? Angels fall from grace. Dad did once too, you know? To be with his family. With mom.’ Baekhyun’s voice seeped into your ears like honey. ‘I know that you can be bad, but so can I. So can anyone. And although my family was terrified when they heard of your demonic side, I- was never wary of it.’

‘You weren’t?’

‘Not at all,’ he smiled. ‘I love you the way you are. I even like it when you use your powers freely, not caring about the rules. It’s incredible: you do it as much as you want and are still you, whereas I… I could be corrupted and thrown off my path just from exercising my power like this. Heck, I can be corrupted with just a teddy bear!’

‘You make it sound like your dark side is worse than mine,’ you snorted, and he pulled you closer to his warm body.

‘It’s not a competition, and I don’t even think ‘bad’ is a fitting description for it. It is dark. It has potential for bad things. But it’s not necessarily bad. We’re both living proofs of that.’

‘Alright, alright, I’m convinced. We’re both dark as fuck but pretty good still.’ You summarized.

‘Language,’ Baekhyun scowled, causing you to burst out laughing.

‘Hey, there’s something else… I need to get off my chest.’ You said, sitting him down on the bed before taking the spot next to him.

He looked curious.

‘I- Your aunt told me something before they sent us off. She said,’ you pursed your lips for a moment. ‘That the Balancing Force would be our third child…’

You looked at him, awaiting his reaction, and he just went ‘Huh.’

‘Huh? That all you got??’ You frowned at him impatiently, unimpressed by the lack of feedback.

‘Sorry. I just thought it was going to be our fourth one.’

Baekhyun shrugged, and you almost fell off the bed as you screamed.

‘What!?’

A/N: Yayyy!! Happy to see you here after finishing the story, hope you enjoyed it^^ Let me know in your comments/ reblogs and asks! As usual, I remind you there’s no need to hold back and be shy, I always appreciate all of your messages <3

[wlfbraind]

finally made sort of a reference sheet for slade (with shading because it looked wonky to me without it. sorry)

and his bio is under the cut! I'm still working on/updating it as I go, but here it is so far :-)

Name: Slade Thunderbolt

Pronouns: He/Him

Orientation: Gay

DOB: October 31st

Birthplace: Queens, New York

Height: Five foot eleven

Status: Alive

Occupation: Death metal vocalist and bassist

Nicknames: Stormy (More of a stage name)

Ethnicity: Chilean

Family: Alondra Thunderbolt (Mother), Vasco Thunderbolt (Father), Anya Thunderbolt (Older sister), Valeria Thunderbolt (Younger sister)

Pets: Two cats, Slash and Judith

Looks:

Long, semi-curly black hair that goes to mid-back length

Streak in hair is a poorly dyed platinum blond; has a black strand of hair that falls to the side of his face with an accidental dyed part of blonde at its roots

Below ear sideburns

Brown-yellow eyes; normally wears eyeliner

Eyebrow piercings on either side, gauges and two lobe piercings, two crossing industrial in right ear, and a navel piercing

Has fangs and a split tongue

Beauty marks on face, and misc ones on back/shoulders

Crooked smile, similar to Pickles’s :)

Has two tattoos: Lightning bolt tattoos over his top surgery scars, and a lightning bolt design on his lower back

Nails either painted all black, or in an on/off black and white pattern

Outfits:

Default

V-neck black crop top, studded collar and a studded bracelet to match on either wrist, misc rings, studded belt with a plain silver belt buckle, black jeans tucked into mid-calf height boots with studded buckles (can you tell this dude likes studs)

Formal

Hair tied back into ponytail, fancier looking eyeliner, black blazer with cropped black button up, double whole grommet belt and black pants, small black boots, lobe piercings have small silver hoop earrings, plain silver rings

Casual

Just a black tank top and skull pattern sweatpants.

Personality:

Slade is genuinely good-natured and enjoyable to talk to. Although he’s not the greatest with emotions, he actually tries his best to understand who he’s with. He’s surprisingly observant, and is very sharp-witted and blunt, either for better or for worse. He’s somewhat intimidating at first glance, especially considering that he accidentally glares at people. A lot.

When performing, Slade has more of a cocky and suave persona that can be taken as too obnoxious; it doesn't last for too long, though, as it is draining for both him and whoever he’s interacting with. Sometimes he doesn't know when to put it off, as he thinks only the persona is what people want him for. This can also lead him to pull stunts that spawn from him being too cocky. Apart from this, he is more awkward, quieter, and somewhat poised, but for the most part he still runs on charisma.

History:

Slade grew up having a rocky relationship with both his sisters, and was fairly distant from both of his parents; overall he mostly slipped by unnoticed. He was quiet and mostly drew to pass the time. As he continued, Slade wrote to go along with these drawings. Eventually his writing became lyrics, and throughout middle/highschool, he picked up the guitar. His interest soon turned to bass instead, and he also began practicing vocal growls whenever he could (and very unprofessionally at that, as which somewhat messed up his voice). When going to college, he decided to go the entertainment manager route. There he met Charles, and they went on to have a very close friendship. Unfortunately, after graduating, they drifted and didn't have the time to talk (and unbeknownst to Slade, this was also as Dethklok began to enter Charles’s life).

A while later, Slade had met future bandmates Fabien Stix, Skullcrusher, and Christina “Chris” Fireball. The three of them were early fans of Dethklok when they were newly famed, and had formed a small tribute band (this happened before the ban mentioned in Tributeklok had taken place). The tribute band had its small spurt of slight popularity, but didn’t last too long. Slade wanted to try and make a name for himself, instead of hiding behind his favorite band. He went to make his own band, while using his nickname “Stormy”, with Fabien, Skullcrusher and Chris still staying to back him up as his drummer and guitarists.

However, the way he gained traction with his band was less than desirable for him, as he noticed people bringing Dethklok signs/banners to his concerts. Either they thought it was a low budget Dethklok ripoff, or were still fans from the tribute band. As he noticed this happening more, he began publicly challenging Dethklok to come down to one of his concerts, so the fans would get what they wanted. With the insistence on this, though, he also gained negative traction. Multiple crazed fans threatened and attempted to kill him, thinking that he was a threat to challenge Dethklok.

Dethklok themselves hadn’t heard of Slade until he had appeared on the Dethklok Minute. Instead of accepting or taking note of any of his challenges, they noticed the Dethklok signs in the crowd. They got annoyed, thinking that he was taking a percentage away from their sales, and began angrily complaining to Charles. In realizing that he knew Slade personally in the first place, and wanting to get the band to stop complaining, Charles suggested that he would get Slade to Mordhaus to “discuss business inquiries”.

Tremendously excited when Charles had reached out to him, Slade forced himself to keep this excitement bottled up so that he wouldn't come across as a fan, considering Dethklok’s opinion on them. Instead, when interacting with the band at first, Slade came across as a bit too excessive. Charles took notice of Slade acting off when talking to the band, and tried reasoning him out of it, knowing that he’s normally not like that. Or at least used to not be.

[imadehimspaghetti]

Here is part two to my lil fic

First part here

A/N: I wrote this several years ago when I was 16. It is unfinished and I think I wrote ten parts. I can post the rest if y’all would like. I could also write new stuff too 👉🏼👈🏼

"Trick question."

"Excuse me?" Negan scoffed, I was playing a dangerous game.

"Either you want me to say my real name or say Negan."

His face softened and he let a small laugh escape his lips. "First one."

"Addilyn" **i changed her name halfway through the story

Negan nodded in approval. "And second?"

My eyes shifted quickly to Chris, he was white as a ghost. His eyes gave me no comfort. I looked back at Negan, to once again meet his brown eyes.

"Negan."

His lips formed into a smile as he adjusted Lucille on his shoulder.

"Where do you work?"

"The janitorial department."

"With Chris?"

I nodded, I was beginning to feel sick. Why? God only knows.

"Okay." And with that, he turned around and left the mess hall. The anxiety in the room suddenly vanished, from everyone. Yet it still lingered for me.

"Woah," Chris muttered as he looked at me.

"That has been the closest I've ever been to him," Ava commented.

I took a sip of my water trying to ease myself. "I think I'm going to turn in for the night."

I said my goodbyes and placed my dish in the bucket near the kitchen. I headed to the third floor where Chris's room was. Tonight was my turn to sleep in the bed, and I was glad for it. Despite my anxiety, that overwhelmed me, I managed to fall asleep rather quickly.

"Azrael." A hand was gently shaking my shoulder.

"Okay," I mumbled. I heard the room door open and then shut. It was Chris waking me up for work. I glanced over at the clock and it read 6:40. We had this thing going on that whoever woke first, was to wake the other up. Usually, it was Chris, but there were a few days where I managed to wake up earlier. I got up from my bed and opened my dresser.

Two dressers were in the room, one mine and the other Chris's. Just about everything we had, we had two of. I decided on wearing my favorite blue skinny jeans and just a plain white tank top. With all the points I had been racking up, I managed to gather some pretty decent clothes. Most, however, I had before I came to Sanctuary. I pulled my dark brown hair into a ponytail, completely disregarding the few strands that had fallen from my grip. I sat on the edge of the bed and grabbed my converse. Small holes were visible at the top.

I need new shoes, I thought. I'll make sure to get some after work.

Before leaving the room, I brushed my teeth and made one last look in the mirror.

Acceptable, I thought.

I walked down to the lower floor and into the Janitor's office. Ava was getting the mop from the closet and Chris was with a couple other guys sorting through soaps that we use to wash the clothes and towels. I walked to the white board and looked next to my name. My eyes went wide and mouth went slightly agape.

Bring/collect towels-5th floor.

There were two rooms on the fifth floor. Simon's and Negan's. "Perry?" My eyes didn't leave the white board.

"Yes, hun?”

"Why do I have the fifth floor?"

"Well I would've assigned you elsewhere but Negan requested you, and I am not one to disobey him."

Of course, he fucking did.

I inhaled a deep breath, composing myself. Without another word, I left the room and grudgingly headed to the fifth floor. As I took my last step up the stairs, a fairly lit hallway came to view. On both sides of the hallway was one door. There was a door at the end, with Simon standing before it. He noticed my presence.

Simon took a step forward. "Mine's on the left, I'll let you guess where Negan's is." He chuckled at his own joke.

I made my way into Simon's room where I went straight to the bathroom without looking elsewhere. I gathered his two towels and quickly exited his room. I wanted to get out of here as soon as possible.

I walked over to Simon where he knocked on the door and announced my presence.

"Hey boss, your towel fetcher is here." I mentally rolled my eyes at him.

Simon stepped aside and allowed me to enter. I grasped the doorknob and entered Negan's room.