#even just for wow OCs I have. several more. they just aren’t allowed to exist in game for various reasons

[rain-harmonia]

Give us a basic rundown on your OCs, who they are, what their favorite colors are, and if you have a song you associate with them :3

I’m a chronic oc maker so I will keep the list short by only talking about the ones that people might encounter in WoW! (US - Wyrmrest Accord, say hi if you see me!!)

• Zhuklesh: He’s a dracthyr evoker who combats the difficulties of his creation and abandonment by Neltharion with the joyous whimsies of life. Though not a Dark Talon (and overall claiming neutrality), he tends to stick with the Horde over the Alliance because he enjoys the vibes that the Horde brings to the table. He’s curious, fierce, and proud. Finding his favorite color was an absolute delight to him, and he’s settled on an enjoyment of bright and gentle pinks such as the shades found streaking the sky at dawn. I didn’t have a song readied to associate with him but I’m making the snap decision to assign To The Sky by Owl City.

• Vildryc: A primal dragon from the ages of Galakrond and the War of the Scaleborn, he was meant to be elevated with the power of an Incarnate after Vyranoth was sealed in the Vault. However, he failed the ritual and was consumed by the ice, thought dead and left forgotten for thousands of years. When the Dragon Isles were awakened and flooded with mortal explorers, Vildryc was unintentionally freed from his icy prison. Now he’s trying to adjust to modern Azeroth while still seeking a way to carry on the war that is so fresh in his memory, unwilling to forgive the Aspects. If asked about his favorite color, he’d answer that it’s a vibrant violet. As for songs, I’ll go with either Frequency or Back To The Earth, both by Starset.

• Ael’thein Mirthheart / “Eyes”: Ael’thein is a blood elf who was aligned with the Illidari on Outland, where he worked in the Den of Mortal Delights. After surviving the raid on the Black Temple, he fled back to Quel’Thalas where he grew in popularity as a courtesan. Enough popularity that the magisters began sticking their noses into his business to ensure his minor levels of influence could be used to maintain Silvermoon’s peace and order. Ael’thein grew resentful and took a “vacation” that spiraled into landing him among the Blacktalon. Now he adopts the code name and title “Eyes of the Black Prince”, returning to Silvermoon to use his status to spy for Wrathion. Just to keep him up to date on important happenings, of course. His favorite color is very typical for a blood elf, being the bolder shades of red. I don’t have any songs picked out for him yet.

• Caedmus: My very sad old man. A draenei who lived long enough ago to remember fleeing Argus, he spent the following thousands of years growing angry with the constant fleeing of his people. Draenor was a home that he’d hoped would become permanent. Obviously that didn’t work out, and his rage finally exploded when the Exodar crashed, killing his wife, and he learned it was sabotage. Despite being heavily injured, he went to confront the blood elves responsible and promptly got slaughtered. Years later, he found himself waking in Acherus, no memories of his previous life present. Being a death knight has been a very unfun time for him and after gaining his free will, he’s taken to wandering Azeroth, a shell of his living self. He’ll claim not to have a favorite color, that it’s not something he’s put much thought into. There are many songs (a whole playlist even) for him but I am choosing It’s All So Incredibly Loud by Glass Animals.

• Zolduri: Once a troll of the Gurubashi and now vaguely of the Darkspear, she was the high priestess of Hir’eek long ago when Hakkar and the Atal’ai were rising to power. For speaking out against Hakkar and preparing to leave with the Darkspear, she got jumped one night and sacrificed to Hakkar. Later, she was raised as a zombie by the Atal’ai. She spent several centuries enslaved to their will until she was able to break free. Her faith in Hir’eek remains as strong as ever and she has taken to coping with the shame she feels at her undead state by devoting everything that she is and does to her loa. Recently, she’s also taken to watching over the Darkspear from afar, lending them aid under cover of night and always fleeing before she can be seen. Her favorite color is the sort of greens that you’d find standing in a forest and staring at leaves filtering sunlight. She doesn’t have any songs associated with her yet.

• Nythoren Moonweaver: He’s a night elf who grew up as a caretaker of Elune-favored spiders and a temple healer. The second invasion of the Burning Legion ripped his life out from under him and ultimately resulted in his encountering Illidan, training as a demon hunter, and discovering being transgender. He elected to consume an aranasi for his ritual, clinging to his love of spiders. Afterwards, he served Illidan primarily as a strategist and as a trainer of basic first aid skills for the Illidari. In the current age, with the Legion defeated and Illidan gone, he’s taken up a hobby of spider breeding, half returning to his old life as a caretaker of the creatures. His favorite color is orange, especially in its softer or faded shades. I have no songs chosen for Nythoren yet.

• Leoranaku / “Leo”: They’re one of my newest, so this is going to be short. A Netherwing dragon who came with their flight to Azeroth, they’re determined to find a way to bring more of Outland’s creatures to the safety of Azeroth as their former home crumbles away. To this end, they travel Azeroth in search of environments that might be able to well-support Outland life. They’re quite taken with the forsaken, and assume the visage of one. Much less taken with orcs, having been a beast of the Illidari’s fel orcs in the past. Leo’s favorite color is just about any shade of blue imaginable. I currently don’t have any songs for them either.

[rysingsun-art]

just realized i don’t talk about my ocs and paracosms enough

in celebration of my animation project being done (i plan to upload it and the uncut storyboard in the next couple weeks and share it with you all) imma talk about angels

so in my Nine Realms and MDRP paracosms, there are angels. MDRP world stuff is kind of in the air but the following at least applies to Nine Realms

So here is The Aether (part one)

Angels are from the realm called the Aether (ee-thur). A very bright realm with two suns in its gold-hued sky, pale pink flora, silver soil and bark, and opalescent mountains. Due to all of its inhabitants having wings, the most common structures are tall, columned buildings with multiple floors. The only way to the higher floors is to fly up. The primary mode of travel is flying.

You might be thinking, well how do non-angel visitors get around if it’s so centered around flight?

They don’t. Outsiders are rarely allowed in the Aether. The number of mortals let in (key words “let in”— the portals are open, most are simply turned away at the gates with a warning. Demon invasions being slaughtered are an excellent example of what happens when someone tries to enter anyways) in the past few millennia could be counted on a hand. Other immortals, maybe two hands.

Well, what about angels who can’t fly due to injury? Or were born that way such as my character Eva?

They are escorted around by being carried and often put up with microagressions throughout their (may i add immortal unless killed) life. They rarely are instated in high (figuratively and literally) or visible positions. All while their valid frustrations are waved off with polite smiles or outright scorn. (oh wow oh gee it’s great that stuff like this doesn’t exist irl /s)

Wouldn’t stairs or ramps or elevators be a simple solution?

Yes. Yes it would.

Well then why—

The higher ups don’t want to ruin the hundreds of millennia old architectural styles by changing the aesthetic.

Doesn’t magic exist? Couldn’t they assist individuals with magical personal aids—

Yup.

Then why—?

The Aether’s government is more focused on promoting “goodness” and “perfection” according to their religion and maintaining the status quo than actually improving things. Black magic is outlawed and dark magic has so many restrictions that most performed magic is with light magic, severely limiting what can be done. They’d also rather put their resources into military or their own lifestyles than things helpful to a relatively small number of people. But basically ableism. Ableism and some deeply entrenched conservatism. Making change there is really fucking hard.

Angels pushed for at least a millennia to have a single community with looser restrictions in order to have freer self-expression (colorful clothes, piercings, tattoos, “unpleasant” art styles such as screamo or rock— basically non-conformity in general).

The Aether has a stick so high up its ass, the angels who leave for educational excursions to other realms often either don’t come back (officially “assumed dead” to discourage others from following suit), or end up leaving for good eventually anyways. Even the revered archangels. Uriel hasn’t been back in centuries. Samael and Azazel are living much more fulfilled lives after their banishment. Eva had several very fulfilling centuries before her decline into magic addiction. And, even now, she’s not miserable, things are just much more complicated (permanent body or mind-altering magic is a risky thing to tamper with and the latter rarely goes “well”). Still, there are plenty who want to stay and make change. It just takes extremely long given that hardly anyone dies.

While there’s plenty sucky with Aetherian society, I want to highlight some things I think are neat.

There aren’t gender roles. The concept is very bizarre to angels, who when visiting other realms will usually adopt whatever gender they are given— or whatever is most beneficial in an interaction. Many angels (unsure of percentage currently) would be considered intersex and look fairly androgynous.

Though angels may identify as a man, woman, or non-binary outside of the Aether (or other things in realms with other gender sets), it doesn’t make sense there since the native language Aetherial doesn’t have any more of a concept of gender than its society. Sexual promiscuity is viewed negatively, however. Intercourse is a very don’t ask, don’t tell. It is for baby making and not many of those are needed. It isn’t illegal to woohoo for funsies but most don’t and it’s associated with the lower (implications, “lesser”) realms, so it’s viewed as weird.

The most common orientations are panromanticism and asexuality. This works out well considering angels stop aging around 25 and don’t die unless killed. Low death rate and low birth rate.

Because births are so spread out and family structures are fairly loose— the community has caretakers comparable to daycare and school that mostly take over for the parents— many don’t know who all of their siblings, cousins, etc are. There aren’t a whole lot of terms for distant family members either. Before starting a relationship with someone, an angel must visit the ancestral archives to make sure they aren’t too closely related.

Angels have two names. A given name, and a virtue name. The virtue name is chosen and often represents a trait that they admire and strive for. However, some choose a name that is in remembrance of a passed loved one. There are other exceptions but those are the most common directions.

I wanted to show more of this, or at least the ableism, architecture, and polite facade, and of how different the Nether is in Fallen, but many scenes were cut or reduced to finish in time. Hopefully I will get around to making a comic of what I intended, but either way a lot of it is still there.

I could go on and on, but I’ll leave social hierarchies for another time!

oh shoot. this was supposed to be about angels but instead i ranted about Aether society. uhhh will talk about angels next time!

[ddaenghoney]

chapter sixteen

masterlist link in blog description.

As a successful songwriter, you want nothing more than the acknowledgment that the chart-topping musical pieces are your own creations. But contracts, relationships, and the difficulty of facing the stakes involved head on, keep your mouth shut until pressure builds too much.

Pairing(s): Park Jimin x Y/N, Min Yoongi x Y/N

disclaimer: any characters depicted do not represent the actual personality of the respected idol in real life.

Series warning(s)/genre(s): Chapter-based written fic, Slow-burn relationship(s), Fake-dating, Unrequited love, Songwriter/producer!oc, idol!Jimin, idol/songwriter/producer!Yoongi, friends with benefits, drama, romance, smut, angst, fluff (updated as needed)

Chapter warning(s): mentions of anxiety/nervousness. Yoongi going through quite a bit ) :

Word count: 5826

if you enjoy please, please let me know!

“Wow, it didn’t take you long to get here.” Yoongi says as he steps back to open the door wider. You nod your head, entering inside,

“I was already in the car with Jin, and there’s not really much traffic right now.” You rub your hands together, paying particular attention to let your thumbs meddle with the individual fingers. The front door shuts with a click and an electronic beep to indicate it’s properly secure. Your eyes remain fixed towards the floor, mulling over the different things he could want to tell you.

“Were you going somewhere with him after seeing him and Namjoon at the cafe?” Yoongi’s voice is normal, a casual inquisitiveness like he hadn’t mentioned a conversation that needs to happen not even half an hour earlier. His hand finds your back with a tiny nudge to lead you towards the couch just like the day before and any other time you’ve ended up at his place for one reason or another. Despite the multitude of armchairs framing the living space, it’s been natural to sit beside one another as you do now.

“Yeah,” You say then recall that uncomfortable situation to cause you and Seokjin to leave Namjoon’s cafe. Part of you still wants to settle in the idea that the three of you were making incorrect assumptions. The first group, and then the second set of patrons were simply going in to drink coffee or have pastries. Ultimately it’s speculation, and you could just be overthinking the popularity of your name after a night of music exposure. “He was just giving me a ride.”

Yoongi watches the words appear to flutter uncertainly from your lips, like they attempt to cover a larger picture. He frowns slightly, then catches sight of balling hands on your lap. Without consideration for anything besides a clearer understanding of whatever is troubling you, Yoongi moves a few inches closer so that he can reach an intersect your focused sightline. He doesn’t surprise from your shoulders shrugging in surprise, instead smiling gently as your restless grip changes to take a delicate hold on his hand.

Your stare finally finds his own, and Yoongi thinks about the comments from the internet. You told him you wanted to wait until the evening to check any yourself, but maybe you had like he had. “What’s wrong?”

Your brows furrow, lips pouting in disbelief of his question, “You said you needed to talk to me so I’m nervous about it.” Without hesitation or tact you speak up, then clamp your lips shut. Squeezing his hand within the confines of your own, you sigh in embarrassment, unaware of Yoongi’s eyes widening in realization. “That sounded kind of harsh how I said it. But I just,” You shrug and pull your legs up onto the couch to better face him, “It’s not even three in the afternoon and you’re back home, Yoon.”

“Oh, yeah,” He blurts out, then nods slowly. You nearly snort in amusement with how he seems to have forgotten the tone of his voice in the phone call, but smother it as he uses his free hand to rub the arch of his shoulder and neck. “Yeah, I know it’s weird.” He narrows his eyes towards the sight of your connecting hands, though entirely unfocused on it. “I do have something to say, I just didn’t figure out how to say it before you got here.”

“Did Yerin end up getting really upset with you?” Yoongi bites his lip at the question, causing you to worry about the severity of the decision to release. If he is going to have a difficult time at SoundWave now, you would like to take back clicking the button, even if he said he was aware of the risks. Yoongi shouldn’t be the person facing the brunt of whatever repercussions there are.

“SoundWave is dropping me from the company.”

Your lips part, taking the sentence into your head. Yoongi doesn’t speak further, eyes simply staring towards your hands holding his, where he grips onto you the reason for this is all.

Language escapes your mind, unable to think of a response to his words. If you were called straight away for the company to tell you they’re cutting the contract short and firing you, if you were called in so they can slam paperwork for some sort of contrived lawsuit, if they took action against you for what happened, you can understand that. You expected the force of Yerin’s voice nailing your nerves while she tells you every reason why you made the wrong choice.

But Yerin firing Yoongi wasn’t a consideration.

She could’ve got rid of you months ago when the initial photographs of you and Yoongi leaked and she acknowledged the hidden affair between you and Jimin, but all along she never did. Despite the constant prodding into the company like you meant to make it burst, you were reprimanded through words wherever you expected a tearing of your contract in half.

“Why,” Yoongi looks up at your cracking mumble, finding your eyes contorted in confusion and complete regret. He goes to speak, feeling your hands tremble around his as you shake your head, “She can’t do that-” You cut your own voice off as you consider the fact that she has every right to, and you watch Yoongi bite his lip frowning. “I’m sorry.” His eyes narrow, following your figure as you stand from the couch, “This is my fault- I’ll go talk to her, I’m sorry-”

“It’s not your fault.” Yoongi reaches for your wrist while he pursues your distraught path, “Y/N, I told you that I thought about it before-”

“Did you think she’d fire you!” You turn as you ask, frowning. Yoongi’s lips shut, tightening, and you believe the tremble in his soft grip on your wrist exists, but it’s largely masked by your own surging emotions rumbling in your veins. “Yoongi, you can’t lose your job, you don’t deserve that. You’ve worked for everything.”

“You have too.” Yoongi’s voice rings with conviction, willing you to stay silent as he fumbles through other sentences swarming in his thoughts. Shaking his head, Yoongi sighs, taking a moment to admit, “I didn’t think she’d do that.”

With how much his title contributes to the company, why would either of you ever thought they would fire him for this. Even in your head, the punishment for helping you release music was comparably minor to this reality. You anticipated articles ripping you to shreds for him letting you feature in his works by only being his girlfriend. You thought Yerin would force him to remove the tracks and take away his allowance of independently posting music.

“I’ll go talk to her.”

“She’s not going to change her mind, angel.” Yoongi watches your hands clench, knowing you feel entirely helpless and unsure of how to go about assisting him. He doesn’t think it’s worth it for you to be so upset-- that this is simply a plausible repercussion, and one that isn’t your fault. Involving yourself between him and Yerin wouldn’t do anything, perhaps even serving to cause public scrutiny for you if SoundWave takes louder measures.

A year earlier, Yoongi wondered what stopped him from helping Hoseok during the scandal. His own fear felt like tape over his mouth, discouraging any means to speak favorably to the press about Hoseok whose reputation was crushed in a matter of weeks from lies and misconceptions fed into the public. All the while Yoongi let it go on, offering only an ear to spill worries and stresses, but no voice to give aid.

“Yoon, I’m so sorry.” Hearing your frail voice, Yoongi remembers offering help. In a small voice, maybe one he hoped Hoseok wouldn’t hear, but did. Only to be met with him telling Yoongi not to. “I shouldn’t have let this happen.”

“They shouldn’t have done any of this to us.” Yoongi says immediately, recalling Yerin’s short speech earlier to him that day. He knew that it wouldn’t be good news, he already prepared for that from the moment the secretary called him on his commute to say that Yerin needed to speak to him immediately.

“You made the choice for this.” She said after Yoongi questioned why. In his stupor, he thought he heard her wrong, never thinking that she would fire him from the first sentence. “I don’t need the liability of you acting on your own like this. Your platform is too big for you to make ridiculous, impulsive decisions. And considering the online reception of those songs, it’s only natural that something had to be done. None of them went over well where fans are concerned. The amount of backlash you’re going to receive is reason enough, but I know that you won’t stop here. I can’t have someone like you in this company.”

“I never wanted any of this, Y/N.”

Ice infects his words, though spoken quietly. Weakly does his hand remain on your wrist, resembling something closer to resigning conviction, and it brings your heart to an even pace. Despite your previous racing thoughts screaming at you to go to SoundWave and fight for him to get his job back, in the sentence Yoongi brings everything to a painful lull.

Little time is needed to understand that his words aren’t directed at an anger towards being fired, but something deeper that you know is familiar. From small glances before. You can recall the tour Yerin gave him around the company building so many months ago and the stoic expression that seemed to be following motions, the time you asked him if he enjoys SoundWave just to be met with mostly silence until he could verbalize a doubtful yes. In front of cameras Yoongi’s eyes were always avoiding looking directly, dodging away like what he couldn’t show himself properly.

You shrug his hand off of you as you take a step towards him, adjusting your arm so that your palm cups his cheek. Angling his face towards your gently, Yoongi’s eyes look collected with moisture, but absent of release. Jaw tightened, then more so as he frowns down at your concern twinkling irises. “Yoon.”

The softness of your voice sends his ribcage into a shudder, unable to allow himself words for risk they’ll end up exhaling words he’s never felt like he should say. Your thumb strokes gently, so soothingly warm against his stinging skin. He lets his hands find purchase on your waist as you perk onto your toes to leave a tiny kiss on beside his lips, like a feathering promise. Silently waiting however long you’ll need to.

“I’ve never been me in front of everyone, angel,” His voice takes time on his words, like his subconscious grips onto them tightly until they’re ripped away by the invitation of your comfort. “My other company and SoundWave,” He sighs, squeezing your waist as he finds himself weakening. Yoongi has so much, he shouldn’t be upset about such a simple thing like reputation.

“Yoongi,” His eyes flicker back towards yours, seeing them present, focused. “You can tell me.”

Compared to you whose every means to be acknowledged has been constantly subdued since your entry into the music industry, Yoongi thinks it’s almost ridiculous for him to complain to you. Despite his own allowance of you telling him your troubles, he doesn’t feel like he should be allowed to talk to you about things that would’ve been changeable if he simply acted on his own accord like what people expect of him. But it’s fabrication to be unsociable and distant for the persona that grew from the debut album into an unleavable image.

Hoseok did what he wanted for himself, always maintaining his truly positive attitude and letting every fan see him as he is. Even in the midst of handling the scandal of his relationship with Seulgi, and allowing her to fabricate a clean escape that left Hoseok dealing with the brunt of misconceptions, he still did it all freely. Perhaps now he would’ve reacted differently, but Hoseok’s actions have always been his own despite what people could think, and that’s simply why he’s able to start again.

“I just feel like I’m some sort of puppet.” Yoongi believes his voice to sound hollow, more so than he intended. With it spoken, he already feels like it should be pulled back and hidden away. With how much freedom he was given to produce his music that suited the brand, and release a few independently conceptualized songs now and again without permission, Yoongi realizes that he was given the most to work with.

For you, Hoseok, and even Jimin your creative inputs were disregarded entirely. For Yoongi it was always just a distance between himself and the public; something meant to appear unattainable. He speaks quieter, without realizing the words escape, “I’m not ever supposed to be me.”

Your chest stings as his drifting focus leads away from you. Something so consuming about his words go so far as to even mesh into Yoongi’s voice, and he’s in your touch but you feel like you’re not a presence for whatever problems are further within his somber admissions. From his cheek, your hand falls away to settle on his shoulder, squeezing bits of warmth that snap his stare back to you.

“You’ve always been you to me.” The sentiment outwardly appears small, but the conviction amidst your gentle voice resonates deeply in Yoongi’s chest. With his eyes widening so slightly he finds himself in silence, for some reason baffled by your statement, because certainly how the two of you interacted very initially could have led incorrect assumptions of who he is.

“Yeah, but I don’t have to be SUGA around you.” Yoongi says, recalling the simplistic intention of releasing music as an idol years ago. “Ever since debut everyone always picked how I’m supposed to act and look on their own,” He sighs, reaching to rub his head and then tugging some of the locks, “Even my hair,” There’s a passing scoff as his voice grows spiteful, “It’s been blonde since my debut-- more than five years, and I’ve never been able to get anyone to let me change it.”

His rambling falters as he realizes the ridiculousness of it all. Yoongi’s arm drops back to his side, and he sighs softly, head shaking, “I shouldn’t be saying this, angel, I’m sorry. You probably think it’s whiny,” He mumbles with a remorseful twinge, and you shake your head immediately, trying to speak in opposition to the idea but Yoongi goes on to finish, “I never thought about how much I hate pretending to be something until right now.”

“Yoongi,” Your grip on his shoulder shakes him slightly as your voice trickles out fervently for his ears to tune into. “It’s not wrong for you to feel bad about this-- if I never met you I would’ve been played by your management team too, but what people see of you in media isn’t you,” You frown, wondering if any of this makes any sense. “And you can be mad about that, Yoon, really. You didn’t want to be any of that-- I know you. I know it hurts having to follow along with everything without say, you can be mad about it. It’s okay to be.”

“I have everything else though-- they let me make my own music and everything, how am I supposed to be ungrateful about that one thing--” Yoongi grits his teeth as the retort sounded closer to an exclamation, but it’s infuriating in his mind. Escaping as frustration in blurring irises. “Why should I be complaining when you have it worse?”

Your thumbs acknowledge the tears before Yoongi’s senses do. In a startle his shoulders tense at the tiny brush to relieve his cheeks of trickling he desperately wishes would cease now that he realizes it escapes his eyes. Blinking tightly does nothing but expel more, and his jaw feels so pressured from clamming shut. “Yoon, if something hurts it hurts. Your problems aren’t less than mine.”

Yoongi wants to combat the claim, but your slight smile stops him. Empathetically bright like a small flame. He remains silent, as tension abandons his shoulders and similar words he’s said to you play through his mind. Tightening his lips together cause a new glistening trail from his eyes as remnants of the emotional flood drain away. Yoongi tugs you closer to him, arms encircle your waist to hug you as you settle your hands to rub soothingly through his hair.

“I know it’s just me saying this, but I think it’d be really hard to never be yourself in front of the world, Yoon.” You tell him while Yoongi’s face buries against your shoulder, hidden away but kept protectively close within your embrace. “You don’t have to keep it all in.”

Carefully, Yoongi’s arms tighten, clinging in a way to your person and all the safety it feels to dispel into him. He remains static as the tears in his eyes evaporate from the calmness of silence and a chance to recollect himself, yet feel much more relieving. Your fingertips seemingly perpetual massage against his scalp, and the stable feeling of you within his arms act as a constant, bringing back the equilibrium so everything feels manageable.

“I really don’t want you to go and talk to Yerin about my job, angel.” Yoongi murmurs after a small eternity of comforting quiet. As he pulls away only enough to look at you, he sees your expression changed into the slightest of dissatisfaction with his words. Realizing you clearly planned to say whatever you could, Yoongi smiles gently, face a little puffy from the tears. “I’m certain she won’t change her mind anyways.”

“But-” You start and immediately grow silent. Despite what he’s said, you can’t stop feeling responsible, and like you should be trying to help fix what Yoongi lost. However, the delay in the conversation let logic enter your head again and you know he’s right. Trying to get back in would be practically useless.

In the midst of your contemplation, Yoongi’s lips find yours in a short kiss, surprising your focus back to him. Leaving only a few centimeters of space, he speaks, “I’ll figure something out. Maybe this’ll be for the best.” Your immediate squeeze on his shoulder makes him momentarily puzzled, wondering if the last sentence sparked worry, but Yoongi doesn’t worry long as you very assertively reply,

“We’ll figure something out.” Subdued determined sparkles in your eyes, causing Yoongi’s head to imperceptibly nod as he registers the intention of paraphrasing his sentence with a different pronoun. Involving yourself into this matter. Yoongi’s lips curl upwards. “Whatever happens, at least you’ll be able to do it however you want, babe.”

“Babe?” He repeats, smile growing wider while your mouth shuts and your eyes avert. Finding an inkling of embarrassment in your pout as he points out the term of endearment you make a grumbling whine that Yoongi chuckles at. “Sorry, it was just cute.” He explains only serving to earn a glare from your growing flustered expression, “You’re right, angel. I don’t know what’ll happen, but we get to pick it all now.”

With the severity of the situation drifting in the ambiance, you both find further conversation puzzling. In favor of allowing your mind to wander, your rosy pigments simply fade as the question of what to do now perpetuates itself in the forefront of attention. By the way Yoongi rests is forehead back on your shoulder, and his fingers lock with each other as he holds you, you’re sure that despite both of your best intentions to remain positive, it’s difficult to do so.

The two of you have been cast aside from the backing of a company, and with the songs released only a day earlier, surely the loss of good reputation in the public hasn’t peaked yet. You haven’t even found the will to look through comments on the released tracks, and with everything going how it is, you’re not sure how you’ll be able to convince yourself to.

“Were you and Jin going to do something together earlier?”

“What?” You blink, then shove the thoughts in your head aside to recall the rest of the events that day. “Oh,” You shake your head as Yongi stands upright once more, letting his hands fall away from you. “No, we were just driving from Namjoon’s place.”

Yoongi’s eyebrows furrow in pure confusion, “Just to drive around?”

At the memory of the situation in the cafe your voice falters in your throat. Not that you were unwilling to speak to Yoongi about the issue, but to begin with you weren’t certain if the three of you had overreacted, and with the added news from SoundWave you wanted to ignore that topic altogether. The last thing you wanted to give Yoongi was another thing to worry about, but when you recall the camera flash and the undeniable act of following you from the subway station, your hands curl from the thought.

“Well, not exactly,” Trusting the instinct in your heartbeat, you finally sigh, rubbing your hands together as you decide to tell him. You imagine despite the worry, Yoongi would want to know. “When the three of us were talking in the cafe like usual there was a group of a few kids-- I guess teenagers, that took a picture with the flash on and Seokjin called them out about it because he thought they were taking a picture of me.” Unable to look up at him as you recount the moment, you simply go on so as not to allow the residual discomfort of it all to make you go quiet. “And there was another table of people about the same age that had come in while we were all talking, and Joon was worried that they were all there to follow me, and,” You shrug. A strong waver that you’re acting overly sensitive brushes through your spine. “Jin and I left because of it… In case other people showed up. I don’t know if they were all really there for me though.”

“Angel,” You glance timidly up to Yoongi as he continues speaking softly, “You’re okay?”

“Yeah,” You say perhaps too quickly. Definitely too fast. Yoongi’s eyebrows crease, clearly bothered by what you just described. “I really don’t know if it was anything bad.” You eventually mumble.

“If you’re nervous like this, I think it gave you a bad feeling too, sweetie.” Yoongi cups your jaw, gently bringing your eyes back to his. “It does sound like they were there for you like Jin and Namjoon thought, to be honest with you.”

You sigh, squeezing your hands together.

“Hey,” He frowns, noticing the contorting signs of anxiousness invading your face. “Sweetie, it’s okay-”

“You think it’s going to get worse than today?” You ask in a small voice. Yoongi’s mouth closes, and the silent answer is enough for you to nod, “Okay,” A longer inhale feeds into your lungs and you let it settle there for passing seconds then release in a slow exhale. “Okay. I’ll have to get used to it then.” A false positivity tries to make itself real in your words.

“I’ll be with you too.” Yoongi says as his hands strays to brush hair from your face. “Not that it’s the biggest comfort,” He chuckles softly before you interrupt his doubting laughter by pressing your lips against his. Your hands tug his shoulders closer, deepening the kiss into lasting moments as Yoongi’s fingertips find your hips to grip onto.

“It’s actually the best comfort.” You murmur between breaths, letting the words collide against his rosy lips. “Thank you.”

Yoongi hums a reciprocation as you smile, then simply leans his head back to kiss you again. His hands travel up along your sides and down in smooth rubbing motions, while you allow your arms to cascade loosely around his neck. When there’s a need for oxygen do your lips part, to take in small breaths and Yoongi abandons your lips in favor of fluttering, sweet kisses along your cheek, erupting enamored giggles from you peacefully.

“I’m glad we were forced to date each other.”

“Shut up,” You laugh at the way light-hearted voice he speaks with. “You hated me.”

“Didn’t.” Yoongi shakes his head though he’s chuckling while randomly arranging more dotting ministrations all over your face in a languid manner that you feel no need to hinder. “I hated Yerin treating us however, but we don’t have to think about her anymore.”

“That actually sounds wonderful.” You admit with a growing grin. Yoongi smiles as he pulls his head away to look at you properly. “That’s the best thing that could’ve been said today.”

“Yeah?” He chuckles, then squeezes your waist with a growing, endeared flurry filling his chest as you kiss his lips softly, in a simple manner. You nod smiling sincerely up at him, looking so much brighter than minutes earlier. More settled, Yoongi thinks, though he knows this isn’t the end of worries concerning everything going on. But it feels a little easier to face now. “Are you free the rest of the day?”

“Yeah. Should we go search for part-time jobs?” You tilt your head with the joke, and Yoongi rolls his eyes. “I’m free though. I’d actually really like to just be with you, if you are too.”

Yoongi smiles, biting his lip as he’s sure he’ll become visibly enamored by your sweet tone. He kisses you before you’re able to tease him about the flustering expression. “Maybe you won’t want to after hearing where I’m going to ask you to join me at.”

---

“Are you regretting it now?” Yoongi smiles as he turns the chair to look at you as you sit on a bench beside the hair styling station. With one of his caps propped atop your head, and another cap and his cardigan in a bundle on your lap, you shake your head, smiling at the appearance of his hair completely sectioned off in bunches. Having been wrapped neatly in tin foil, you know this is entering into the latter portion of the impromptu hair appointment having already spent close to two hours in the conditioning treatment phase.

“No, because we’re going to eat after this so I have the love of my life to look forward to.” You search your pocket for your phone to memorialize the appearance as Yoongi whines knowingly,

“Don’t take pictures; I look like an android.”

“More like an alien, babe.” You grin as you snap a series of pictures, while Yoongi starts the shoot with a scowl that turns into a wide unamused smile when you pout at him for cooperation. “Aw, you’re adorable.”

“I’m going to take pictures of you scarfing down food.” He mutters to himself, as he turns the chair back towards the mirror. Yoongi examines the situation atop his head as the dye works to make itself permanent over the locks of blonde hair he’s had for the majority of his adult life. Sitting there he feels a build up of anticipation for the end result, an excitement mixed with a doubtful wonder about if he would look familiar after returning his hair to its natural color.

Glancing back towards you, he finds your cheeks puffed in concentration as you click around rampantly on your phone. Probably adding ridiculous filters or stickers to the pictures of him you just took. Yoongi smiles, finding it both amazing and strange that he’s grown so close to you throughout the passing year. Warmed at the prospect of the change he’s gone through so far, despite the uncertainty of what’s to come.

Where the year prior he felt incapable of acting completely as he wants, now Yoongi feels encouraged by you to do what he wants in the way that you’re also trying your best to change your life back into your own control.

“Oh, Joon’s calling me,” You say out of surprise by the screen changing suddenly on your phone.

“It’s sort of loud in here, why don’t you talk to him in the lobby?” Yoongi offers while the barrage of hair dryers and chatter in the evening portion of the business day reigns on. You nod, standing up and clutching his items against your chest as you begin to walk off, “Sweetie, you can just leave my stuff there,” Yoongi chuckles as you only become aware of his clothing as he’s brought it to your attention. Laughing bashfully you neatly plop the items,

“Right, I wasn’t thinking.” You admit sheepishly before gently prodding your fingertip into his cheek when he begins to grin. “Be right back.”

After your leave, Yoongi reaches to the messy countertop below the mirror for his own phone. Knowing he’s left it on silent all day along with not checking up on any notifications, he isn’t surprised to find a multitude of alerts in a line on the lock screen. Dismissing the majority of social media ones, he instead opens the text thread that he left alone earlier after saying he’ll text back later in the evening.

Hoseok, 2:24pm: Get back to me whenever you feel able. I know it’s hard to deal with, but I’m always here, bro.

Yoongi, 6:35pm: I’m doing the impulsive haircut route.

Hoseok, 6:37pm: Please tell me you’re doing a glamorous pink color?

Yoongi laughs, looking up as his stylist walks over from down the aisle. Peeking carefully beneath the tin foil to check the coloring, he works silently while Yoongi responds.

Yoongi, 6:40pm: Not this time, sorry. Also, I’m sure you’re worried and I really have no clue what I’m going to do yet, but I’m okay.

“It looks ready to go,” The stylist nods to himself, and begins to remove a bunch of tin foil one by one. “I’m usually touching up your roots, so I was pretty surprised when you wanted the exact opposite this time.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi says as he hears the crinkling of the shiny metallic papers that propel his heart into an excited beat. “I like it this way a lot more than the blonde.”

“Sure it’s not your girlfriend isn’t the one who does?” He asks with no ill-will, just a smile at the joking banter while he looks at the dark locks heavy with the dye. Yoongi take a moment to respond as he also catches the stark difference of color being revealed atop his head.

“No, I don’t think she’s ever seen me with black hair.” Yoongi says without focus, while thinking more about the ease of maintaining his hair now that he won’t have to come in every other week to bleach his roots. Without any of the tinfoil obscuring his view, he finds himself biting his lip as his cold locks of hair weigh down on his scalp, only now needing a rinse and dry to fully reveal what the new style of his natural hair will look like.

“Well, let’s give her a nice surprise then. Follow me back to get it shampooed and conditioned.”

“Namjoon,” You roll your eyes at your friend whining through the receiver about a customer that just walked out leaving their drink mostly untouched. “I’m sure the drink tastes fine, dude.”

“They just left it though,” He gripes on, muttering incomprehensibly as you assume he cleans up the remnants. “This is the best-selling drink right now-”

“Joon, you said you wanted to tell me something,” You laugh as you rub your face, back leaning against a wall beside the check-in counter for the salon.

“Oh, right.” You shake your head at the fact his voice sounds entirely surprised that he forgot the entire reason for calling you while he spent the last twenty minutes complaining about customers throughout the day. “Some other kids came in awhile after you and Jin left-- well maybe they were more like teenagers.” You bite your lip so as not to laugh at the similar rambling he does like you had. “But anyways, they definitely came in hoping to spot you. They were asking me if I was friends with you.”

“Oh, yeah?” Your grip on the phone tightens as you think about the other groups following you for pictures and now even this one came in to directly search for you.

“Yeah, they wanted to know because they wanted me to tell you that they really liked the music you and Yoongi made together.” Your grip lessens as his words enter your ear. With a surprised stupor you let him continue right along. “They’re big fans of Yoongi, but they think you did a really good job on the music. They were saying it’s probably hard considering all the other stuff being said on the internet.”

“Really?”

Namjoon remains quiet, smiling gently at the utterly shocked tone of your voice. Knowing the day you’ve had has likely been full of stressful news, he also feels better about things as he recounts the information to you. “Yeah, they were really sincere about it.”

Even after ending the phone call you find yourself stunned silent from the opposite news that you anticipated from Namjoon as he first started to tell you about the fans. With a smile growing at the potential for others to have similar perspectives, you feel lighter. This isn’t the ideal scenario to play out for releasing music, but you’ll take the good out of it in stride. It’s the best thing to do after all.

“Angel,” Your shoulders startle from your thoughts as Yoongi’s voice calls out to you from the side. You turn your head as he walks over. “Your phonecall took forever-”

“Whoa,” Your mouth stays open wide as your eyes go straight to the dark hair atop his head. Turning on your heel in surprise as you continue to take in the new style, you find it to be so different. Obviously it would be, but the fact that you couldn’t properly imagine his hair like this until seeing it as you stand there leaves you in awe. “Yoon, it looks so nice.”

“You think so?” You become aware of his voice’s timidness, clearly still in suspense on what your verdict would be on the style. Yoongi’s eyes meet yours when you finally look towards them from his black hair. He feels his chest tighten as you smile up at him and nod your head.

“I like it a lot.”

Yoongi’s lips curl in satisfaction, his heart swelling even more so as you take the step closer so you can reach up to immerse your fingers in the fluffy, night-like hair. Unable to contain the swift kiss on your lips that lasts only a moment because of location, Yoongi’s mouth grows into a grin as he states peacefully, “Me too.”

if you enjoy please, please let me know via ask, comment, rb with tags– however ! i’d just really appreciate feedback 🥺 i hope you enjoy the series, i’m working really hard on it! : )

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