#figured i haven't given her enough attention

[denwritesandcries]

Fall(ing for You) – S.C

Pairing: sam carpenter x soft goth!reader

Summary: Sam is certain that Tara's new quiet friend may turn out to be Ghostface, unfortunately – or not –, that friend is you.

or, it takes the help of tara and a dog for sam to finally come to her senses.

Word count: 6,0k.

Content: scream 6 but without the killing, r's 23, cursing, wingman tara ft. yr dog, jokes abt r being ghostface, fluff, pining, sam falling first AND harder, silly movie references.

Note: hey guys, It's been a while since I've written for scream but I rewatched it recently and finally got some inspiration again! I describe the reader a little more in this but it won't really affect anything if you choose to ignore it.

English is not my first language.

Tara made a new friend.

Sam still isn't sure exactly, but the only plausible explanation for the way Tara has been acting lately is that her sister met someone interesting enough to keep her attention so that she gave everyone a break from her tantrums and reckless behavior since their new start outside of Woodsboro.

Now, that could be a good thing, it had been months since the kids started college and they were all doing relatively well. Mindy had Anika, Chad had Ethan and also there was Quinn, even though she wasn't very close to anyone. Tara should have someone too.

The problem is that Sam has no idea who this person is. Tara just won't tell her.

You see, Sam understands that she might have been a little too protective of her sister and that this made Tara's behavior become defensive towards her. Her new therapist – after she got rid of that quack – is helping her work through that, okay? But curiosity and worry were eating away at her insides. The curfews, the tasers and pepper sprays, and especially the ID checks were all important to keep them safe, dammit! Mindy and Chad had no problem with it, and it was only after all the appropriate measures were in place that Sam could breathe and let these new people be a part of their lives. Not knowing this so-called friend, let alone who they were, was driving her to the brink of a breakdown.

She was trying to give her some space, probing with subtle questions here and there and the most she got was an eye roll and ‘It’s just a sophomore I met at the film club, haven't you said I should try to be part of something that didn’t involve frat parties?’

Well, at least it wasn’t a boyfriend, given the lack of dreamy sighs, giggles into the phone and late-night escapades. That was good. They already had enough problems to deal with and a new relationship so quickly was the same as asking for a ghostface to go for them again and Sam hadn’t been back in Tara’s life long enough to know how to deal with this part of being a big sister yet.

Sam had understood that she wouldn’t meet this mysterious person for a while, at least until her sister’s tantrum had passed, and between two shitty jobs and trying to keep a structured life being responsible for a bunch of teenagers in the big city, she couldn’t find it in herself to insist on the subject any further and get the risk of causing a fight. She thought it would be forgotten.

Now just imagine Sam's surprise when she came home one night after a long, exhausting shift, expecting to eat the leftover pizza she had hidden in the fridge and fall into a deep sleep, only to be knocked over by an noisy and strange dog with a piece of pizza in its mouth as soon as she opened the apartment door. Her pizza.

“Koda!” Someone called. Someone unfamiliar. It wasn’t just the dog, there was a stranger in her house.

Sam’s hand instinctively moves to reach for the taser hidden in her jacket when a pair of black-clad legs show up in her vision. Does Ghostface work with dogs now? She wonders in confusion for a moment, and has given up on the voice changer?

The only thing stopping her from tasing this potential killer in front of her is the pure bewilderment and Tara’s laughter filling the room.

“Oh my god,” the figure bends down, picking up the dog who turns out to be a very excited puppy, the pizza falling from its mouth and onto her shirt, getting it all over her, “I’m so sorry.”

It’s a girl, a face she’s never seen before, looking completely mortified.

“Hey, Sam,” Tara stops beside her, a barely hidden tone of satisfaction in her voice, “This is my friend. I thought you’d like to meet her.”

It's safe to say that Sam didn't like Tara's new friend at all.

“You didn’t think about telling me you were bringing someone?” Sam exclaimed, rubbing her temples wearily, “Especially that Lydia Deetz project right there? I almost shocked her in the middle of the hallway!”

Quinn shifted from where she was leaning against the counter in the small impromptu meeting and didn’t bother to hold back her laugh, “Nah, I think Tara would fit that role better.”

“Quinn,” Sam groaned exasperatedly.

“If I had told you you would have said no,” Tara shrugged.

“Yes! Because we don’t know her!”

It was quite awkward sitting on the couch in their living room less than five feet away from the kitchen and being able to hear every word spoken as if you weren't right there, with your messy dog ​​happily chewing on the sock on your ankle.

This wasn't the turn you expected your night to take when you decided to accept Tara's sudden invitation for a movie night, visiting her off-campus for the first time since you became friends.

You met her at the start of the school year, the day she showed up for a film club meeting before anyone else arrived, well, anyone except you. She seemed completely lost and suspicious, even though she was clearly struggling not to show it, which made you like her right away.

Getting attention and starting conversations was never really your thing, this whole club thing wasn't either, honestly, but you ended up being one of the last older members to join with most of the others having recently graduated and the responsibility of looking after the new freshmans gradually fell on you. Most of the time you kept to yourself, preferring the behind-the-scenes side of things to participating in the long-winded debates of high school teens obsessed with slashers and making Stab parodies, but you noticed the way Tara seemed desperate for any sense of normalcy beneath her laid-back facade and the whispers of murder that haunted her.

You took what seemed like a rabid kitten under your wing and ended up cornered by the personification of a Doberman because of it. Talk about doing good deeds and stepping out of your comfort zone. What a joke.

Tara’s older sister, Sam, if you got it right, stared at you with narrowed, suspicious eyes – just like Tara when you first approached her – towering over your figure that tried to look smaller than it actually was on the couch, as if she was trying to learn every little hidden detail about you.

“So…” you began hesitantly, wanting to break the awkward silence that had ensued, “you have such a beautiful house.”

“Aren’t you too old to hangout with a freshmen?" Sam cut in coldly, one eyebrow perfectly arched in distrust.

You sighed, this conversation sure started off very well, “I’m 23,” you cleared your throat, “Tara’s in the same club as me, and I’ve just been helping her with some classes I used to take when I first started here.”

You hear Tara’s distinct chuckle, clearly amused by your frustration, which doesn’t help your situation much. What a wonderful friend, indeed.

Sam hummed with fake indifference and the other two housemates watched the exchange intently, eyes darting between you like they were at a tennis match, amused by the sight of Sam trying to intimidate the poor unsuspecting twit that you were.

A great friend, for sure. Ugh, this is why you don’t sponsor obviously troubled kids.

It’s not like Sam Carpenter is really intimidating or scaring you out the way she seems to want to, she has bags under her eyes and a greasy pizza stain on her shirt and you’re a grown woman, for God’s sake! It’s just that it was extremely embarrassing to cause a scene like that, especially with someone who you really wanted to make a good first impression.

Interacting so much socially lately was becoming relatively exhausting and you expected it wouldn't become a thing, as you were feeling a bit overwhelmed by everything. You hoped this would be the last big meeting you had for a while. Tara had told you a lot about her sister, mainly about how it was a pain in the ass to always have someone hovering over her, but it was something you never took seriously because of the way she sounded when she talked about it, too loving for someone who hated the situation so much. No, Sam was important and Tara had insisted that you meet her after doing the same with the twins just a few days ago. You had carefully planned how it would happen, what clothes you would wear and what you would say and now your chance to make things right was ruined, the words seeming to have escaped you in a flash. You were reserved, quiet, small in the midst of so much hustle and bustle, used to watching everything go by from the safety of the shadows. Being a mouse was easy.

“Is that all you have to say?”

Less easy when caged with a lion.

“Look,” you tried again, silently squirming as your pup start sniffing Sam’s combat boots furiously as you stood to pick him up, “I really didn’t want to cause any trouble or misunderstanding, Tara called me earlier while I was walking this little guy and insisted it would be okay if I came over for a movie. I can leave now if you want to, I’m really sorry for… well, all of this.”

You noticed Sam's expression became conflicted, as if she didn't know exactly what to make of you standing in the middle of her living room without showing any threat and wasn't used to people actually listening to her on sight. Still, she wasn't going to give up that easily.

“Great,” Sam nodded, her voice sounding less firm, “go then.” She pointed directly at your dog, now sitting at her feet with its fluffy head tilted to the side in a guiltily innocent manner, “And make sure to take that pizza thief with you.”

(You swear he looked personally offended.)

“What? No!” Tara seemed to realize that her little game could backfire and came out from behind the counter in your defense.

“Tara—”

“Come on, Sam, it's movie night!” She stomped her foot loudly, “I refused the invite to Jason's party for that, we were marathoning all the Texas Chainsaw Massacres!”

You don’t even have to be good at reading people to know that Sam had lost that fight the moment Tara looked at her with pleading eyes, knowing that there was no way to blame her for simply doing what she asked.

That didn’t stop Sam from rolling her eyes and huffing in irritation.

“Fine,” she practically growled, shifting her attention back to you, “But I’m gonna keep an eye on you, so you better not act all smart and keep that fleabag away from me.”

“His name’s Koda.” You pointed out, before softening, “And thank you, I promise I’m not gonna—”

“Shush.”

Sam was sure this was all part of an act of yours, just the first step to infiltrate their lives and pull the rug out like others have done before, because no one in their right mind would sit quietly next to someone who nearly shocked and threatened them in many ways just a few minutes ago.

Especially if that someone is burning holes in your head with their eyes, like she's doing now.

Sam watches shamelessly and intrigued, shooting daggers at your figure as you lean back with Tara babbling enthusiastically between you, your puppy completely knocked out on her lap, oblivious to the sounds of death and fake blood spurting from the TV. She notices the way you effectively ignore her, responding to Tara’s remarks with genuine interest, even if your voice doesn’t match her enthusiasm.

You remained quiet beyond those moments and the tiredness along with your lack of sudden movements made Sam feel secure enough to leave the room and finally take a shower – because along with everything she never saw much fun in these movies like Tara –, warning you that it was better for everyone to finish the night when the movie ended.

(She also forced Quinn to take her place on the couch and promise to scream if anything happened. You didn't comment on that either.)

Sam only falls asleep when she hears the sounds of goodbyes coming from the living room and the door house being closed, finally relaxing after all the interaction, deciding that it was enough. You could have been at her house, but that doesn't mean she would let you come over again.

You come back, because of course Tara doesn’t give a damn about Sam’s warnings about being careful around strangers – incessantly claiming that you’re not a stranger – and there you are at the next game night that Chad insisted on making a tradition.

At least there’s no sign of the shirt-destroying furball this time and there are pizzas smelling good on the kitchen counter.

“‘Sup, Sam!” Chad greeted loudly as she walked through the door, waving excitedly from the couch, “We’re playin’ uno!”

Her eyes landed on you, who waved at her with a small, tight smile, awkwardly sandwiched between Anika and Ethan, the way you stood out among them so comical that Sam suppressed a snort. She decided to join in without much protest, someone responsible still had to watch you, after all.

Sam wouldn’t admit to anyone, absolutely anyone, that she was enjoying the evening, listening to the heated exchanges as everyone got competitive. Strangely, she noticed that you didn’t try to engage much in the conversation, just like the other night, seeming happy to just be there. She thought you had been withdrawn then because of her behavior towards you, but maybe you were just shy.

That made her raise an eyebrow, Tara didn’t usually embrace introverts. Actually, she had always been pretty popular even before Sam left, if she remembered correctly, so this was new. She felt a small piece of curiosity spark inside her instead of more mistrust as she expected and it disconcerted her.

“The whole point of the 7 card is that you're not supposed to talk, man!” Mindy throwing chips at Ethan interrupted Sam's flow of thoughts.

“This rule is stupid! The manual doesn't even mention it, read it for yourself!” Ethan shuffled the cards wildly – ​​everyone at the table had seen his hand – pointing, “And you’re talking too!”

“Whatever! Nobody reads the fuckin manual to play uno, Ethan!”

Tara groaned, “Guys, just shut up and everybody buys a card.”

“But that’s not how you play!”

She decided to abandon the game and all the fuss in favor of getting some air and a slice of pizza and was surprised to find that her favorite was still untouched, which was a miracle in such a crowded house.

“Tara said that you liked this flavor,” your voice coming from nearby startled her and Sam saw you gesture to the box in front of her, “My treat, for the other day.”

She cleared her throat hesitantly, “You didn’t have to.”

“I did,” you dismissed with a wider smile, “My dog ​​left you without dinner.”

Sam didn’t respond, but you leaned against the counter next to her anyway, picking at the dark polish on your nails casually, listening to your friends arguing in the background.

“Get tired of the crowd?” Sam asked, deciding that ignoring you wasn’t an option since you clearly weren’t leaving.

“Yeah,” you agreed, shrugging with an odd laugh, “I guess I’ve had enough socializing for one day.”

Sam wasn’t sure why she didn’t just send you away then, seizing the perfect chance to dismiss you like she’d wanted all along and avail everyone's presence to remind that you weren’t welcome, but that strange spark flared in her and made her smile unconsciously, more sincere than the previous tense ones.

“Oh, I know what you mean,” she agreed slowly.

Your expression brightens in surprise, as if you expected a cold, blunt rejection or maybe a slap (probably both) and Sam feels a bit guilty by it. Sighing, she waves you towards the apartment’s tiny balcony, silently inviting you to join her, to which you respond with a firm nod as you watch her unwind the chain on the sliding door – they keep everything locked up tight now – and follow her.

Sam swears she’s not doing this to be nice or anything, all she wants is to repay you for your politeness, that’s all.

The night breeze is refreshing and sends pleasant shivers down your arms and shoulders as Sam leans against the railing and the two of you fall silent. It’s pleasant, actually.

Sam takes a moment to look at you, like, really look at you for the first time since you met and her breath hitches.

Your relaxed features look cheerful and are well-emphasized by the makeup you’re wearing – she tries to search her memory and gets frustrated when she can’t remember if it’s the same style as the night you met – your hair blows a little in the wind and your clothes just fit. Every single thing about you seems to have been specially made to be this way, charming, beautiful.

Your elbow brushes hers in the small space as you lean in to better contemplate the dreary, empty New York sky and Sam’s skin is burning and she doesn’t understand why.

Sam didn’t realize, through all the haze of anger and suspicion and tantrum, until she was touching a pretty girl, that you were, in fact, a pretty girl.

Shit.

“You’re trying so hard not to like her that I’m getting embarrassed for you.”

It’s late. Everyone has already left, including you, who went early claiming you had to work the next morning. Tara should be in bed by now, but she’d be upset if Sam told her to do that, so she doesn’t say anything.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sam dismisses, packing up the last of the leftover pizza to put in the fridge.

“But you do,” Tara hums smugly, stifling a yawn, “Just admit that you were wrong and that I’ve made a friend who’s not a potential serial killer. And that you might have a crush on her. I saw you two on the balcony.”

“It wasn’t like that,” she grumbles, “And I wasn’t wrong for being worried that you brought home a stranger without telling me, even if she’s not dangerous.”

“Ha!” Tara points out, “So you admit she’s no danger.”

Sam sighs tiredly, bringing a hand up to massage her temple, “She can keep coming over for movie nights or whatever if that’s what you're asking me.”

Tara cheered, jumping up from where she was sitting on the counter to finally go to sleep. She stopped just before turning the corner to her room.

“Seriously though,” she caught Sam’s attention, “You guys have more in common then you might think, that’s why I like her. I think you could too, if you get to know her better.”

“That’s impossible, Tar,” Sam says weary, looking at her sister with the most done expression, “I don’t ‘get to know’ anyone, I already have all the people I need in my life.”

“Maybe you’ll be surprised,” she shrugged, “It would be good for you anyway.”

Sam's approval was all Tara needed to make you a regular fixture in their lives and make movie nights an official thing. Sam usually walks in when they're in full swing, with the two of you deep in conversation about the completely random movie you decided to watch that day, and now she greets you back instead of ignoring like she did before and you look happier every time she does it openly.

She finds excuses to wander around the living room and kitchen when she hears Tara pause the tv for whatever reason, just so she doesn't leave you unsupervised in their house – it was still too early to rule out all the care, after all. It ends up making her feel kind of ridiculous, because, hell, she shouldn't have to make excuses to wander around her own house! But you guys talk during these moments, sometimes.

Sam learns more about you as time goes on, and she tells herself that it's just gathering information, that you're not friends at all, but she finds herself soaking up every bit of detail. What are you majoring in, how long have you been in town, if you live close to campus like most students or if you have roommates like them.

(Actually, when she thinks about it now, Sam probably sounded more like a maniac trying to find out where you live, but at least you didn’t call her out on it.)

Then movie nights are joined by study sessions that Tara insists on having as her first week of finals approaches, and you manage to convince Sam to let you bring your puppy too so he won’t be alone for so many hours and she can act a little more normal around you and have a conversation that doesn’t sound like a job interview. You tell her about the movies you like – which consist of more than just an extensive list of slashers like she initially assumed – in a loud and excited tone instead of your usual repressed one, and it stirs something inside her, which leads to several other facts. Your favorite color, what kind of music you like, what you do when her sister isn't dragging you somewhere, and why you decided to adopt a dog so young when you already had so many other responsibilities.

“He helps me not feel alone,” you replied, looking deep into her eyes, “my roommate graduated last year and moved out. I guess I couldn’t stand coming home to empty houses, you know? And he’s my guard dog, he takes care of me and I take care of him. The little guy might be small but knows how to do damage.”

She could relate to that, in part.

And then you start asking too, suddenly and Sam finds herself with a dilemma after so long avoiding your attempts to get to know her. She’d rather remain closed off.

But a trade isn’t a fair trade unless she gives you something back, is it? And you’ve been quenching her thirst for knowledge for a long time now, you gave her a lot.

So, during one night when you insist on helping her make dinner, she confides in you – somewhat reluctantly – that she really enjoys cooking, especially healthier meals. She doesn't look at you, nor does she say it clearly but still, you listen and Sam is surprised when she finds herself speaking.

“You really should ask her out.”

And of course, Tara is always close enough to raise an eyebrow with a knowing look at her on practically every occasion.

“I've told you already, it's not like that.”

“You're cuddling her dog right now.”

“Just so he stays quiet and doesn't disturb you two! Shouldn't you be studying, by the way?”

“Ugh, you’re so annoying.”

Sam can almost, almost admit that you're her friend too.

(Though she kinda wished it were a little more than that.)

Movie nights evolve into sleepovers, because Sam argues that it’s simply too late and dangerous for you to come back alone and she feels embarrassed – and guilty as much – when Quinn brings up that it has always been dangerous and she didn’t mind letting you go before, when she didn’t care about you.

Now there are some of your clothes in a drawer Tara set aside for you just like a colorful food bowl in the living room for your dog – Mindy jokes that it's theirs now – and there’s rarely a day that goes by where she doesn’t see you.

And when you don’t come over, Tara makes sure to remind her of how anxious she looks waiting for a knock on the door and how she lights up when you greet her first when you finally arrive.

“I swear that now she comes here more to see you than me.”

“You’re imagining things.”

“Yeah, sure,” she huffs, “And when are you gonna make a move again?”

“Never, Tara.”

Sam hasn't heard a thing about you in days. Tara said yesterday that you ended up getting really busy with a college project, preparing a presentation that, her sister quotes, 'needs to be perfect because public speaking is horrible and there's a big chance I'll embarrass myself.'

It's not that Sam asked, it's just that she doesn't text you often and Tara thought it would be convenient to talk about it out loud when she was on the phone with Mindy.

Anyway, it doesn't really matter, it's not like you two are close. You are Tara's friend. If it weren't for her, you two wouldn't even have a reason to see each other. There's no reason to be so stressed.

But she misses you anyway. She's having a shitty day at her shitty job and everything seems to go by even slower because Sam knows that when she gets home at night you probably won't be on the couch waiting with the soft smile she's grown accustomed to looking forward and if she has to deal with another group of rude teenagers she'll freak out.

The sound of the bell ringing at the entrance draws Sam’s attention back to the counter and she ends up face to face with the person who has been on her mind all day.

“Sam!” you approached with a tired smile, your dog wagging his tail happily on a leash in one hand and a paper bag in the other, “I was looking for you.”

You'd never visited her at work before, she didn't even know you knew where it was, having only mentioned it in passing, but there you were, with the smile she wanted to see and bags under your eyes.

“Hi,” she cleared her throat, feeling her face heat up. Damn, she looked like a teen girl with a crush, “I didn't expect to see you here, what, uhm, what do you need?”

You snorted at her flustered attending voice. Seeing her show any kind of nervousness was very unusual.

“Tara called me today demanding I get out of the house for a bit and ‘touch some grass’, so I decided to bring this buddy along, he was begging me for a proper walk,” you shrugged, “And she asked me to bring your lunch.”

Sam paused at that, Tara definitely didn't make lunches for her, much less go to the trouble of delivering them like that.

“...Thank you,” she accepted the paper bag you held out delicately, eyeing the package suspiciously. You held back a giggle when she looked at you again, “Anything else?”

“Oh, um,” you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, obviously nervous, “I’m taking Koda to the park nearby and I thought maybe you’d like to come with us. If you can, of course.”

Sam couldn’t really, it was still a few hours before her shift ended at the coffee shop, but she didn’t want you to leave without the promise of seeing you again.

“Of course,” she found herself replying instead, “I can meet you there in a few minutes.”

She knew she’d made the right decision when you gifted her with one of your warm smiles.

“Okay! Nice,” you nod, absently twirling your dog’s leash around your fingers, startled by the sudden, loud bark he lets out at the delay, breaking the oblivious bubble you were in, “Alright, I should go before he starts trying to jump over the counter.”

Sam barely hears the sound of the bell announcing your departure over how loudly her heart pounds in her ears.

It takes a lot of willpower and her last pack of good cigarettes to convince her insufferable coworker — who’d watched the whole thing with a bored expression and loudly chewing gum while cleaning the coffee machine — to cover the rest of her shift. He ended up ordering her lunch too, thinking it might be something special, only to complain when he was met with a sad peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a carton of warm apple juice. Tara really didn’t cook… but then why had she done that?

(She laughed at him anyway.)

“You owe me, Carpenter,” he grumbled, taping a note to her arm that had fallen out of the package.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

Sam was out the door before he could change his mind.

Taking a deep breath of the damp autumn air, she picked up the yellow post-it note curiously, recognizing her sister’s handwriting immediately.

‘u looked so depressed lately that I

decided to send u a gift

DO something this time

good luck!!’

She knew. She fucking knew that smartass had set her up. Sam should have guessed it before. Tara would never let her get away with this without doing something with her own hands. At least she hadn’t brought Mindy into the scheme this time.

The park you had mentioned was more like a small square and with the rainy cold weather of the last few days, it was pretty empty. Sam could spot you without difficulty, sitting on one of the few benches watching the scenery and she made her presence known when she got close enough.

“Can he even sit still sometimes?” Sam asked, hands in her bomber jacket pockets, pointing with her chin at the dog playing alone on the grass. You moved a little so she could sit next to you and subtly moved closer when she did.

“It rained last night and he's a big fan of puddles,” you chuckled, “I guess he's just excited, we haven't been out much lately.”

He wasn't the puppy he'd been when Sam had first seen him a few months ago and the sight of him running around the trees chasing flowers and stray twigs was actually quite funny.

“He's so covered in mud that it looks like a bear.”

“Well, his name's Koda,” you pointed out amusedly, “I would have called him Pongo but he always looked more like a small bear than a dalmatian anyway.”

She snorted, “If you say so.”

Sam couldn't remember a time when she felt so relaxed, with the weight of your shoulder resting against hers, enjoying the weather of the early season, the ground covered in orange and yellow leaves framing your surroundings.

She couldn't stop the restlessness she felt inside her chest, watching your profile. Feeling warm inside, but also shivering with a terrible fear of ruining everything. Do something, do something, do something echoing like a mantra in her head.

Sam took a deep breath. She'd faced murderers before, for God's sake! She could be braver than that.

"So..." She coughed, "Tara set this up, you know? The lunch stuff and everything."

You turned your attention to Sam, raising an eyebrow with a confused look.

"She did?" You asked, "Why would she do that?"

It's now or never, Carpenter. Focus.

“She did it so I could see you,” she looked away, “Because I missed you. Because I…” She felt your hand reach for hers and noticed a fallen leaf on your shoulder.

“Because you…?” your voice echoed anxious. She could do this. She's going to do this.

“I—”

A loud howl scared the two of you and you turned to see Koda behind a pile of leaves, pupils dilated and jumping up and down.

“Oh no.”

“What?” She stammered.

“He saw a pigeon.”

You see, Sam is not a pet person. She has only had one guinea pig her entire life and only before her father left and a 6-year-old Tara let it escape from its cage never to be seen again – poor Darwin would always be remembered – she does not know how to handle dogs, much less big, excitable ones like yours.

Yet she grabs the leash from your hands when you finally reach your dog who won't stop barking at a tree and ignores your warnings that he is heavy and strong, Sam, it will end up dragging you away and tries to gently pull him to convince him to let go so you can get out of there. Because she is big and strong and she wants to show you that she can handle a mere happy dog.

He acknowledges her like she wanted and also drags her like you said he would.

This manages to surprise her more than the first stab wound she took, how one minute she’s standing still, telling your silly dog ​​to walk in a confident condescending tone, and the next she’s running at full speed through the trees and puddles of the park, your worried voice ringing behind her, as does your laughter.

“Sam!” you exclaimed from a distance, hands cupped around your mouth and dark red scarf falling from your neck, “You need to stop!”

She does stop, yes, but only after your dog has already circled her and Sam must be a ridiculous sight with a colorful leash wrapped around her legs and a dog panting with its tongue out next to her.

“Oh my god,” you lean in closer, unable to hide the amusement in your voice, “Are you okay?”

Sam huffed, feeling a strand of hair fall across her face: “A little help would be appreciated.”

“Sure,” you laughed, reaching out to carefully untangle it, “Maybe I should call him Pongo after all.”

She rolled her eyes: “Don’t mock me.”

“I’m not mocking you, it’s just cute.”

Sam opened her mouth to retort, only to realize how close you two were, with your hands resting on her shoulders to steady her and your faces just inches apart, your breath tickling her skin. You seemed to realize the same thing, tongue coming out to wet your lips, your gaze fixed on her mouth.

Do something. Do something. Do something.

She finally does something. She kisses you.

It's all a mix of sensations, she feels when you sigh, breathing through your nose in surprise and satisfaction, she feels where your hands tighten on the fabric of her jacket and tastes you, warm lips contrasting with the cold skin of your cheeks, with traces of coffee, lipstick and something else so undeniably you that Sam swears her heart might stop.

You pull apart hesitantly, breathing fast, noses touching, eyes shining, and she feels herself falling, literally. Your dog jumps on your waist, demanding to be petted, and you fall, taking Sam with you.

Landing in a pile of leaves is more uncomfortable than the movies make it out to be, but Sam can’t find it in herself to protest when you’re the one on top of her. She smiles and you laugh out loud. She didn’t mess up.

“You’re covered in leaves,” you say, running your fingers through her hair, “And your face is smeared with black lipstick.”

She scoffs, “I wonder who’s responsible for that.”

“He is,” you point innocently at the dog standing next to you.

Sam rolls her eyes, but cups your face with her cold hands to pull you close again, and the second kiss she gives you is just as magical as the first.

Tara doesn’t expect to find a dog taking up the entire couch for the first time in days when she comes back from Chad’s dorm after sending you off on a fake mission to find her sister. Yet, hours later, there it is, with one of the sneakers she forgot to put away when she got home from class stuck in his mouth and trails of mud and leaves across the room.

“C’mon, man, that’s not a toy!”

She hears a laugh and finds herself face to face with Sam, looking completely filthy despite the sound of the shower running in the hallway and Tara knows Quinn isn’t home yet. Oh.

“So, you finally did something?”

Sam nods solemnly, pointing to the dark kiss etched into her jaw.

“I did.”

[th3lovely1]

The Other Woman

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Paige Bueckers x Reader

- Having feelings for your best friend was hard. Especially since there's a new woman every week that she talks about. Not feeling good enough for Paige, you start to distance yourself from her, and not surprisingly, she notices.

- Friends to lovers (Paige always had feelings but was in hella denial)

- They makeout🤷‍♀️

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Here we go again. Paige talking about her new girl for the week. What's her name again? Tammy? Rebecca? Honestly, You've given up on remembering the names she brings up.

"Damn, she was that good, bro?" Azzi grins at Paige. Paige nods her head with a smirk, "Yeah hell man.". You do my best to ignore their conversation as you try to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach.

The final straw is when Paige starts going into details again about her fling. "Hey guys" You say, getting their attention. The two stop talking as they look at you, Paige's smirk turns into a soft smile.

You put an arm over your stomach, "I'm not feeling too good," a small grimace appears on your face. "I'm gonna lay down for a bit.". You don't wait for them to reply as you walk away, not noticing Paiges concerned gaze following you.

This hasn't been the first time you've unexpectedly left like that. Paige has only started noticing it recently, but yet she hasn't figured out why you've been acting this way.

Was someone bothering you? Or maybe it was her? It made her uneasy to think it was the latter. You're her best friend, and as hard as it is to deny it, she loves you. More than she thought she would.

All these girls she talks about are just distractions from you, thinking that maybe if she found someone similar enough, she wouldn't have to worry about confessing to you. But no matter how hard she tries, it's never enough. No one could replace you, and no one ever will.

A nudge from Azzi is what gets Paige out of her head. "You good, Paige? I've said your name like twice. ". Paige doesn't know what to tell her. She was afraid to speak the truth, yet she knew that Azzi would be able to tell if she was lying. "Is it Y/n?" Azzi asks the blonde, raising a brow even though she already knew it was.

It was no secret that you and Paige had some sort of feelings for one another. The longing glances, the hugs that lasted just a bit too long, and the terrible attempt at flirting but mostly from Paige.

Paige looks at Azzi and attempts a chuckle, "What? Why would it be her?". Azzi crosses her arms and gives a 'really?' look. Paige sighs and puts her head in her hands. Giving in and finally confessing, she says, "Yeah...yeah it's her.". "You know, if you like her so much you should just tell her. It's not like everyone except her knows already," Azzi replies with a shurg as if stating the obvious.

Surprised, Paige turns to Azzi. "You guys -" she begins raising her voice before quieting down, remembering that you were in the other room. There was no way that she'd want you to hear about any of this. "You guys knew and didn't say anything?" she practically whispers.

"Yeah, like everyone knew, Paige. You weren't that discreet," Azzi tells her, "We're just haven't said anything cause we figured it wouldn't take long for something happen, but clearly we were wrong.".

Paige groans, "I just don't know what to say to her, man. Every time I look or talk to her, I always overthink it. I keep on thinking that she doesn't want me or some crap like that.". She meant every word. Any time she'd come up to you to flirt or just talk, she'd overthink any little thing she'd say. For some reason she always thought that you were too good for her.

So obviously, being the young adult she is, she decided to meet other people. But that didn't help at all as it only made her realize just how much she loved you. You were all she ever thanked about, in her mind 24/7. Anything she looked at reminded her of you in some way.

"I know it's easier to say and do, but you just gotta be straight up with her," Azzi replies, "You overthink it too much, then it'll never happen.". "You're right, you're right. It's just..." Paige stops as she tries her best to think. She's too stuck in her mind to even think about how she should talk to you.

Azzi puts a hand on Paiges shoulder, "Hey, you got this.". She softly rubs it before getting up and grabbing her stuff. Paige looks at her confused before she tells her, "I'm gonna go so you two can talk. The both of you really need it.".

Azzi doesn't wait for a response as she walks out the door, leaving Paige and you behind to finally talk to one another.

Paige sits there in silence as she wonders about the two of you. So many good memories and moments could be thrown away if this all went wrong. Her knee bounced uncontrollably as she started to pick at her hands, something that she always did when nervous, something that you were always there for.

Azzi was right, though. Hyping herself up, Paige gets up from the seat and walks to your room. Her heart beating out of her chest and her hands shaking. She hesitates to knock on your door, her nerves almost getting the better of her.

You open the door. Your eyes are red, and your noise is runny. You look away from Paige as you try to fix the birds nest on your hair. It's not like she'd care anyway. She'd still think you're beautiful, no matter what. She reaches a hand out to comfort you but stops herself from doing so. An action that didn't come unnoticed by you.

Her voice is soft as she asks, "You okay?". Obviously, something was up, and Paige had a good idea of what it was. "You can tell me anything you know?".

"I just -" you begin, the words were at the tip of your tongue, yet you couldn't get them out. Instead, you sigh and gesture towards your room, "Come in.". Paige sits down on the bed, her knee bouncing again. "Um...can I talk you?".

You softly chuckle and smile as you sit next to her. "You already are, but go ahead.". Paige fiddles with her hands, not looking at you. "I...uh," she starts to stammer. You put a hand over hers for comfort and bend down to look in her eyes. "Hey, it's okay. Just breathe.".

If only it was that easy, Paige thought. You took her breath practically doing anything. Even just looking at you had her chest tightening and her heart beating fast. Paige takes a deep breath and exhales. Her grip has tightened on your hand and her knee has stopped shaking.

"I like you, like a lot. Who the fuck am I kidding? I love you at this point.". Your jaw drops as you listen to her. Paige, the girl who you loved for what felt like forever, loves you. It's almost hard to believe. "But what about the other women? The people you've been seeing?".

Paige looks at you with love and sincerity in her eyes. "I've always loved you. I-I know it may be hard to believe, but I truly do. Those other people were just a distraction.". She looks away from you, almost ashamed of herself. "I couldn't face the fact that I felt so much for it. I couldn't understand it...I didn't know what to do.".

You turn Paige to look at you. "I love you too, Paige. I understand that love can be a lot, and it's okay to not know what to do.". You start to play with her hair as you continue. "I will admit that it did hurt seeing you with them, but I'm glad that you feel the same.".

Paige rests her head on your shoulder and wraps her arm around your waist. Your shoulder becoming wet from her tears. "I'm so so sorry for hurting you like that. I know it was stupid of me and-". "Hey, hey," you soothe her, rubbing her back. "That's all in the past now, don't worry about it. I forgive you.".

She removes herself from your shoulder and sniffles. "Really?" she asks, seeming surprised at your forgiveness. She knee that if it was her, it'd take some time for something like that. She knew what she did was crappy but she really didn't know how to deal with how she felt. She would never use that as an excuse though, especially with you.

You nod with a warm smile, "Mhm.". She wraps her arms around you, hugging you tightly. "Thank you," she says with relief. You hug her back, "I love you too much to just leave you like that.". The both of you chuckle.

When Paige moves back, it suddenly feels like she's closer than before. Tension rises in the air as the both of you slowly lean in, looking deep into each other's eyes.

Paige moves a piece of hair behind your ear and cups your face as you rest a hand on her waist. Finally, your lips meet. Months of longing are poured into it as your hands move along her body. The kiss only deepens when Paige starts to lay you back against the bed, pushing her body onto yours.

Her hand moves along your thigh and pulls you closer to her before moving to your waist as she starts to move your shirt up. You move your hips against hers and just as she starts to take your shirt of your door abruptly opens.

Kk comes barging in yelling, "Hey guys!". But she stops once she notices the two of you. "Oh shit! I knew it!" she grins and starts to laugh. Nika and Azzi are behind her and join in the laughter when they see you guys. "Seee, I told y'all it was gonna happen!" Azzi says.

Paige hurriedly pulls your shirt back down and moves off of you, her cheeks almost bright red. "Man, can you guys get out!". She moves an arm at them to move out. "Yeah, yeah. We'll get out" Nika tells her, starting to walk away. Azzi follows behind her and giggles are heard from the two.

"We'll leave you love birds alone," Kk says, raising her brows before closing the door behind her. You put your hands over your face, "That was so embarrassing!". Paige moves your hands away with a soft laugh. "It's fine, baby," she tells you, shrugging her shoulders, "Could've been worse.".

You hit her shoulder, "Paige!". "Okay! Okay!" she laughs, moving to lay next to you. You laugh with her, "You are so immature.". "You love it," she says with a grin. You softly kiss her and reply with a small smile, "Of course I do.".

♡♡♡

Hope y'all liked this😗. I haven't written something in a while. Also Paige is so pretty🤭🤭

[alexa-fika]

Hello there may I respect this for your entertainment

Whitebeard pirates x female readers!

She's Ace grandma ( not married to Garp) but Ace sees her as a grandma figure to him

She's a tall woman around Whitebeard height, same strength level as him as well, captain of the Poison Flower, a crew filled with women, who were admired for their beauty and strength

I can literally imagined the Whitebeard pirates flirting with the Poison Flowers, with Whitebeard flirting with the captain the most

If you don't get enough sleep, drink, or eat enough this one piece shirt get bleach!!

Tale as old as time ( Whitebeard x wife!reader x whitebeard pirates)

A/N Okay I know this is not exactly as requested but I tried to get it as close as possible. I am not sure what you said at the end there but I read as if you don’t get enough sleep, drink or eat enough on this piece get bleached and let me tell you I cackled. Also back to back babyyyyy im on a roll

Reader here is replaced by Dokucha which stands for Reader in japanese

Dividers by @/drinkthesky and @/firefly-graphics

"Come on, Honey, won't you teach me a few things?" The woman purs glancing at the chef

"Who am I to say no to a lady? Ya have to hold it this way Darlin'," Thatch explains with a smile, positioning himself behind the woman and guiding her hand to cut the ingredients before her properly.

"Would you look at that?" she grins, marveling at her job.

"Normally, we would now add sugar, but that ain't necessary with ya here."

"Oh?" She grins, looking up at him at his remark

"Well, I would say they are getting along quite well, no?" Dokucha grins, looking at the cooking couple

"It seems they aren't the only ones," Ace says, gesturing to Vista, who is in a similar situation with another opposing crew member.

"Well. I am glad everyone is enjoying their time, but that's enough about it. What about you, Ace? I have not seen you in a while; have you kept contact with your brothers?" she asked, looking down at him.

"I have; Luffy is currently training off with Silvers Rayleigh."

"Rayleigh? Now, that is a name I haven't heard in a while; how come you didn't tell me about that, Darling?" She said, turning to the man behind her

"Never came up," he grumbled

as he downed another chug of the sake in his hand, glaring at her as she swiped it off his hands

"Never came up my ass, and What have I told you about drinking so much, you idiot?!" she growls.

"Shut up, you damn hag"

"Is that how you treat your wife? Not to mention the one who is currently treating you?! Marco, has he kept this up when I am not around?"

"Every minute Gran, pops won't listen to what the nurses and I tell him."

"Is that so?" She said, turning to the man who looked away from her, mumbling curses both towards her and his oldest son

"What was that, you old man?" She sneered, a dark aura surrounding her as she glared at him

"You're going to teach my girls the wrong thing; they are still young and impressionable."

"Uh, Should we do something about it?" One of the newer recruits asked as he glanced at the two giants bickering

"Leave them be. This is normal for them-yoi."

"Besides, Pops deserves a hard time after all the hard times he has given me and the nurses." Marco shrugged as he sipped more of his beer

"Why are you so stubborn?" She says, shaking her head

"I swear you are getting too old to be this stubborn."

"I didn't even know Pops was married," he mutters, getting the older woman's attention.

"Hmm? Edward, when did you get new recruits?" she questioned

"A few weeks ago."

"Ah, look at you, deary, you are all but covered in scratches and sand. You are thinner than a twig!" She fussed, looking down at the young man

"Ah, I-uh, I was left stranded for a few months; Pops rescued me."

"That does sound like him, Edward. When you adopt more sons, you have to tend to them," she sighed, handing the young man a bowl of food.

"Make sure you eat well, yeah? Can't fight if you have no energy."

The man grabs the bowls slowly, slightly confused.

"T-thank you, ma'am."

"No need for that, you can call me Gran, though if it makes you uncomtable, you can continue calling me that" she told him sending him a hearwarming smile as she turned towards her husband again.

"She's an angel," he muttered, turning around at the snickers of Ace.

"Quite the contrast, right? She and Pops"

"How come they aren't on the same crew?" he questioned, looking at the two.

"Hmm? Ah, Gran and Gramps both formed their crews long ago; when they got together, they didn't want to disturb the dynamic they had already built-yoi," he explained.

"Was that it?" Ace questioned, shoveling down food

"That and he said he didn't trust us to keep it in our pants-yoi," he added, much to the latter's shock, causing him to spit out the food.

"What?!"

Guys im struggling with romance 😂, im also not sure I got Whitebeards personality anywhere near; this one is weakkk guys I aint cooking

[bangtanficsforyou]

They Reject You (maknae line)-03

Pairing: maknae line x reader (fuckboi! Jimin x Reader, Co-worker Taehyung x Reader, Idol Jungkook x Reader)

Warnings: swear words here and there.

Word count: 20K (approx)

A/N: long long long asf! (There's author's note at the bottom too).

Park Jimin

Jimin may have been very determined while pledging that he will make things right but right now, he's utterly confused and clueless. 

How exactly does he make things right?

If he were to go by the way movies suggest, he should be sending you chocolates and bouquets of flowers. But the question is, will that do? Will that be enough? Can hurting someone emotionally be fixed by something material?

He doesn't know.

Oh, that's another thing. In recent days, Jimin's mind has been throwing questions at him which he has no answers to. Which, needless to mention, has been frustrating him to no end.

He feels like there's a lot he needs to figure out before taking any action. Because lord knows he doesn't want to mess up again and given his history he has a habit of doing exactly that over and over again. 

The question that has been bugging him the most is; why does he even want to fix things with you? 

It's a question Jimin wholeheartedly avoids thinking about. Because he doesn't have an answer and thinking about this particular question makes him feel a little too uncomfortable.

However, to him, the question also feels like a big empty blank that he needs to fill in order to make sense of what he should do next. Almost as if, if he figures out this one thing, he will have all his answers. 

Which again, doesn't make sense to him. How can figuring out one thing give answers to the rest? But again, he should begin somewhere. Which obviously isn't going to be answering the big question.

Hence he does what he has been doing for the past few days; searching for ways to apologise on YouTube.

It's quite obvious that his YouTube searches haven't been very successful. But in his defence, it isn't Jimin's fault. It's YouTube's.

Almost every video that YouTube suggests as a response to his search, has this implication that the girl being apologised to, is the lover of the person seeking forgiveness.  

Huh? 

But that's so not the case. You're not his lover.

At some point, Jimin got so frustrated that he went on a mini rant to Taehyung, about how this is the 21st century and how a boy and girl need not always have a romantic relationship. And it's while he's ranting via text that he is hit by the brilliant idea of inviting Taehyung over. After all, if there's someone who's better than Jimin when it comes to the ladies, it's Taehyung. 

Half an hour later, Jimin couldn't rush to the door any faster when the bell rang. 

Taehyung greets the troubled boy with a scoff of disbelief. "Never seen you this excited over my arrival, ever."

Jimin is the least bit interested in paying attention to his best friend's teasing. "You gotta help me. It's already been three days and I haven't been able to figure anything out."

"It's about making up to that girl, right?" On receiving a nod from Jimin, Taehyung continues, "What was her name again?"

"Y/N."

"Right, Y/N," Taehyung makes a note to himself, having a hunch it's a name he will hear quite often. "So where exactly are you stuck?" 

Jimin leads his friend to the couch so that Taehyung can have a look at the screen. "Just look at the results. There are literally thousands of responses but not one that's of use. What's the point of having internet if it can't help you when you need?!"

Taehyung snickers. "Yeah, you did go on a half an hour rant about it via text."

Jimin huffs at the way Taehyung seems to not share the same level of frustration as him. But alas, maybe him being in a light mood is a good thing after all. That way Taehyung can think optimally and come up with a solution and then Jimin can finally have a good night's sleep. 

Gosh when Jimin thinks about it, it sends shivers down his spine. He really needs to sleep. 

"Great! You know all about it, so now get on with it," Jimin speaks with a firm nod of determination and turns his body ninety degrees so that he is entirely facing Taehyung. 

And then just keeps staring. 

Taehyung stares back for a second or two and then bursts out laughing. He laughs so hard, that his ears miss the questions Jimin throws his way, querying about the cause of his laughter. He laughs so hard, that he has to place a pillow against his stomach because it has started hurting. He laughs so hard that it takes him a total of five minutes to stop. 

When he does stop laughing, he utters a sentence that sends Jimin into a similar laughter fit. 

"You're so in love."

Or maybe wait. 

Jimin doesn't laugh. 

Jimin blinks at Taehyung blankly and then scoffs in annoyance. Taehyung can't be serious. "I can't believe you're in the mood of making jokes when I'm so stressed."

"Oh, I can assure you, I'm not joking," Taehyung shakes his head with a chuckle, denying Jimin's words. "You're definitely in love."

Jimin pauses. He doesn't like how sure Taehyung seems to be of his words. It makes Jimin realise that Taehyung isn't joking. Taehyung really thinks Jimin is in love. 

Huh. 

"Don't you think I'd know if I was in love?" 

Taehyung snorts. "Clearly not."

Now Jimin's curious. "What makes you so sure of your words?"

"Hmm, let's think for a moment," Taehyung responds, pretending to think deeply for a moment. "You have been worried sick, haven't been behaving like yourself and are throwing tantrums like a five-year-old kid. All because a girl hasn't been talking to you–"

"That could simply mean she's a very good friend to me," Jimin counters even before Taehyung can finish his sentence. 

"Well, you don't kiss your friends while drunk." 

Jimin shuts up at that, not because he agrees with Taehyung's statement but because he needs a moment to figure out what to reply to that. He needs to think of something that is a justifiable reason for why he had kissed you in his drunken state of mind. 

Unfortunately, the best he comes up with is; "I didn't know what I was doing. I was drunk. Plus, me kissing someone shouldn't be news, drunk or not." 

Taehyung nods. "Right, that's your thing. Kissing and sleeping around."

For the first time in his life, Jimin feels an odd sensation in his chest at the mention of his player lifestyle. He can't place why (another thing he can't figure out, yes) but for the first time he wishes these words were not used to describe him. But admittedly, that's who he is. It's only normal to describe him by who he is. 

Jimin keeps quiet as a sign of letting Taehyung know that he can go on. 

"But surprisingly enough, since Y/N has stopped talking to you, you haven't fooled around with anyone," Taehyung squints his eyes, looking like a detective who's trying to solve a complicated riddle. "Wonder why that might be." 

Jimin misses the sarcastic tone completely because he's taken aback by his friend's words. It's only now that he realises that he indeed, has not fooled around with anyone in the last week or so. 

It's true that he has been going to parties and have been getting drunk and have been doing what he usually does. Except for one thing, it seems. Hooking up. 

Oddly enough, the thought of hooking up with someone didn't even occur to him. It's not like he restrained himself or something. It's like he forgot that aspect of his life, entirely. 

What the fuck.

Taehyung silently watches the realisation play out on Jimin's face. It's entertaining, to say the least. His sweet fuckboy of a friend is in love and has zero clue about it. How sweet. 

He only hopes Jimin comes to his senses while this denial is still sweet and not when it's all bitter and sour. But looking at the way Jimin is struggling, one thing is for sure and that is, he isn't going to get his 'happy realisation' just yet. 

"Your bulb will take time to light up," Taehyung interrupts Jimin's thoughts, "Let me just help you with the apologising thing."

---------------------------------------------------------------

Jimin has been standing in front of your door for five minutes now. With a huge flower bouquet at that. Because according to Taehyung:

"It's not what you give that matters, it's the thought you put into it. It could be flowers, it could be chocolates–yes I know, at the end of the day they are mere materials. But what's wrong with that?

You've gotta start somewhere. What's important is that you show her that you have realised your mistake, you're sorry and that you'd never do something like that ever again. Sending gifts is not all. It might not earn you her forgiveness but it shows that you're trying and that's something." 

Hence, despite not considering sending gifts as an option at first, here Jimin is, doing exactly that. But then it's not like he could come up with a better idea himself and he thinks Taehyung is right, he should at least start somewhere. 

But he wanted to make it as meaningful as he could. Which is why he did a little research and showed up here himself. He needs to do just one last thing, press the calling bell. 

He sighs and tells himself that there's no point in delaying it, the sooner he does it, the better. Plus, it only means that he will be able to see you after another three-day stretch. 

The thought of seeing you again, does it for him. He presses the bell and with a bated breath, waits for you to open the door. 

Thankfully, he doesn't have to wait long. You swing the door open and Jimin is relieved that your reaction on seeing him is that of surprise and not that of disdain. He would have run in the opposite direction and would have been too ashamed to face you had that been the case. 

Despite not running away, Jimin seems to have lost his capability to talk, for all he does is stare at your face. It gets to the point where you have to be the one to ask him what he's doing at your doorstep. 

Jimin looks away as soon as he snaps out of it and remembers what he's here for. He still doesn't speak and just pushes the bouquet in his hands towards you and urges you to take it. 

It's not like you hadn't noticed the bouquet, it's unmissable really. It's this big, gorgeous arrangement of pink roses and the lighting of the hallway falls on the flowers in a way that makes it look like a portrait. When Jimin tries handing over the bouquet to you, you're once again taken by surprise and out of instinct you take hold of the bouquet without a second thought. 

The moment Jimin knows that you have the bouquet, he takes a few steps back, bows to you and takes off. 

Well, guess he did run away, after all. 

You don't even get the time to question him as to why the sudden flowers as you stand there for a moment until you're sure that Jimin isn't coming back. With a confused sigh, you head back into your apartment. 

"I should put them in water," you mumble to yourself and rest the bouquet on your centre table. 

However, it's at this very moment that your eyes land on a piece of paper that seems to have been folded with great care and has been kept in such a way that it isn't visible from the front but only from the top. 

With a small frown of curiosity, you take the paper out with your fingers. On unfolding, you find a small printed note on the left side and a handwritten note on the right. 

The left side of the note read: "Pink roses signify gratitude, admiration and appreciation." 

The right side of the note read: "You're not the stupid one, I am."

There's a brief moment where you are clueless and you have to think as to what Jimin could possibly mean. However, it doesn't take long for you to figure it out as you're hit with the memory of letting Jimin know how he has made you feel for a very, very long time. 

One particular line sticks out and you have a hunch that his note refers to that.

"I felt so stupid to be hanging out with you when you couldn’t even pause and give me the minimum respect I deserve.”

Huh. 

Is...Is Jimin apologising? 

No way. 

After that day you had thought Jimin would either just stop talking to you or would just show up a few days later as if nothing ever happened. Never had you considered that he would choose to apologise. But apparently, that's exactly what he has decided on. 

Wow. This is way more surprising than the sun rising in the west. 

You do not doubt that he must have taken the help of some of his friends but that's only fair. You can imagine how hard it must be for someone like Jimin to apologise to someone. 

You shake your head in amusement and bring a vase filled with water to place the flowers in. 

Honestly, you hadn't thought much about Jimin since that day. The way you felt lighter after saying what you had wanted to for a long time, was incredibly freeing. You were also proud of yourself for finally standing up and for sticking to your decision to cut him off. It made you wish you had done it sooner. 

But now that Jimin is apologising, in his own way, you are a tad bit surprised that it doesn't throw you into a mental debate. That you don't have to battle yourself on what to do. 

Things are pretty clear in your head. 

You forgive Jimin. 

You had forgiven him long before he even sent you the flowers. With your bottled-up emotions out of the way, it gave you the clarity you needed to see things for how they were. 

You had always had a weak spot for Jimin. Jimin, not so much. You were just another girl to him. But the thing with having weak spots is that they make you vulnerable. 

But Jimin is Jimin. He has no clue about these kind of things. Does he? For you, to expect Jimin to understand the sensitivity of the matter, was basically setting yourself up for disappointment from the get-go. 

It's the same as looking for a mango in a banyan tree. It's fruitless. 

That does not mean, that you blame yourself. When emotions that are beyond your control, get involved, the practical mind is forced to take a back seat. Romantic affection is for sure one such feeling where one tends to lose their thinking and decision-making capabilities. 

You forgive Jimin. You also forgive yourself. 

Does that mean you'd be okay with being friends with Jimin, again? No, you cannot bring yourself to do that. 

The trust and faith you had put in him has been broken and that's enough of a reason for you to move on. 

So what is Jimin to you, now? 

Someone you still have a weak spot for because it's not like you wake up one day and suddenly all your feelings you harboured for a person disappears. But you know you want to move on. You know you do not wish to go back to sharing the same dynamic with Jimin ever again. 

And this time your decision does not come from a place of hurt, anger or frustration. This time it comes from a place of clarity and acceptance, which is also why it doesn't seem difficult to follow through with your choice. 

Nevertheless, you do appreciate Jimin giving you flowers. Although, you think there was no need for it. 

For a brief moment, you contemplate if you should be texting a thank you to him but then decide otherwise when you remember that you have blocked him. Even if it's for the short span of two minutes to send a text, you don't think you're ready to unblock him just yet. 

For the time being you simply settle for putting the vase at the top of one of your drawers and taking good care of them. 

----------------------------------------------------------------

The next day it was a bouquet of white flowers with a note that read: 

I'm sorry; on the left and I know flowers won't earn me your forgiveness but I'm trying; on the right.

It once again was Jimin at your doorstep and once again, before you could say anything, he had decided his job was done as soon as the flowers were in your hands. 

You were too flabbergasted as you had thought that the whole giving you flowers thing was only a one-time thing. You didn't think Jimin would show up for a second time, just the day after, to give you another massive bouquet. 

Maybe you should have seen the same thing happening on the third day but somehow you didn't and were just as surprised, if not more, when Jimin showed up with another bouquet on the third day. 

Before you could say anything, Jimin was gone. 

Which is exactly why you now find yourself unblocking his contact. 

You: hey

You: just letting you know I appreciate the flowers but you do not need to send them anymore 

You: I forgive you

Jimin is on the phone with Taehyung getting an earful about his cowardness and running, when he receives your text.

"I'm telling you, this flower thing is not going to work. She hasn't even tried to talk to me" 

"From what I have heard you are the one who has never allowed her to even open her mouth and–"

"Hold on, someone texted me," Jimin interrupts Taehyung solely to avoid getting called out for the umpteenth time. However, his eyes almost fall out of his sockets when he sees that it's you. "Tae, Y/N texted me!"

Taehyung, too, is surprised to hear this. "What did she say?"

Jimin takes a deep breath, his nostrils flaring as he fills his lungs up with as much air as possible. "Right, I will open her messages." 

When he does read the words you have sent him, he is even more surprised. But even more so, he is relieved. Gosh, he feels like he could cry tears of joy. 

"She forgave me," Jimin speaks in a tone that is a little too loud for Taehyung's ears. 

However, Taehyung doesn't protest as his friend's words seem more important at the moment. "Are you serious? She did? What did she say?"

"She said that she appreciates the flowers and that I need not send them to her anymore and that she forgives me." 

Taehyung pauses for a moment and then grins brightly, the relieved and excited tone of his friend making him feel happy. "Then what are you doing fucker? Text her back, you idiot."

Jimin nods but then responds verbally when he remembers that Taehyung is over the phone and not with him in his room. "I'll text her back."

Saying so, he ends the call with Taehyung and starts typing. 

Jimin: Thank you

Wait. 

Thank you?

Should he say thank you? Is that the right response? But is sending a simple thank you good enough? 

He doesn't think so. 

Quickly deleting the typed words, he begins to think of a better response. 

If not thank you, then what? How about 'How have you been?' No, no, no. That sounds way too casual. 

He should send something that appears to be cool and that doesn't make things awkward. At the same time, he should text something that leaves room for a conversation. A proper one. 

Geez, texting is difficult. 

What if he tries teasing you like he did before everything happened? No, that would make it look like he never took the matter seriously. 

Should he...should he just be uncool and be honest for once? 

Should he just let you know that he feels like a bag of stones has been lifted off his chest and that he can breathe again? That he feels like he can think properly, again? 

That might be too much. 

But maybe he can just try letting you know that he's incredibly grateful for your forgiveness without sounding cheesy? Yeah, he can definitely do that. 

Jimin: Thank you.

Jimin: that word isn't enough but that's the best I have got 

Jimin: I am incredibly grateful and I promise I won't make you regret your choice. 

When you read his texts a few minutes later, you're rather surprised. Is Jimin saying these things? There's no way. 

But then you come to a conclusion that, there indeed is no way. Jimin must have made a friend of his type out these words. Now, that makes a whole lot of sense. 

You chuckle at the thought and react to his messages with a thumbs up and leave it at that. 

The moment Jimin sees you reacting to his messages, he types out another message, one that he has delicately crafted in his mind. Something light that hopefully will lead to a proper conversation.

Jimin: How have you been? 

Your phone pings and you notice Jimin's text. Something uncomfortable churns in your stomach at his words. Jimin most likely thinks things are back to normal and that you two will once again bicker and joke around in no time.

Guess, you need to break it to him. 

You: I've been fine 

You: but I would rather have us not go back to the way we were 

Jimin is already in the middle of forming another text that conveys that things won't be the same and that he'd do better but his heart literally breaks into pieces when he reads the next text. 

You: I don't think we should be in contact anymore 

You: it's a proven fact it doesn't do either of us any good 😂

You: especially me.

—--------------------------------------------------------

Jimin has decided to watch a movie. Not just any movie, the fault in our stars. Because he needs something to make him feel sad. Correction; he needs something that he is consciously aware of, to make him feel sad. 

It's much much more annoying when you get sad and heartbroken over something and yet you cannot explain why you feel that way. Imagine suddenly getting stabbed by invisible knives that you can't see but can only feel. Yeah, it feels the same. 

But who cares anyway? Jimin is watching a movie that will make him plenty sad and unlike you, it won't have him feeling like someone who hasn't been in touch with his emotions for ages. 

Taehyung munches on his popcorn slowly, his focus periodically shifting between Jimin and the TV screen. 

Taehyung knew something was up the moment Jimin texted him asking if he would like to watch The Fault in Our Stars. For the people who don't know, Jimin does not watch sad movies, like ever. Because irrespective of how much of a fuckboy he is, he is a huge softie on the inside (which is actually very cliche of him). But as his fuckboy-ness would have it, he absolutely hates crying. 

Taehyung does not believe that Jimin does not cry or that he tries to keep his tears at bay. Because from the few times that he has seen his friend crying, he knows that he isn't someone who's good at holding his tears back. So no, Jimin does cry and when he does, he cries like a baby. However, what Jimin ensures is that he does not cry in front of anyone.

But here's Jimin, crying in front of Taehyung. 

This boy is going to give me a headache, Taehyung thinks with a deep inhale as he once again shifts his focus from Jimin to the screen.

It must have been another fifteen minutes or so when he hears a small sniffle coming from his left. Huh, things haven't even turned that sad in the movie yet. 

Taehyung looks at his friend only to realise his suspicions are right when he notices his friend subtly wiping under his eyes. 

Taehyung takes hold of the remote and switches the TV off. 

He has had enough. 

Jimin looks at Taehyung with perplexed features but before he can ask a question, Taehyung is getting up from his seat to turn the lights on. 

This makes Jimin quickly grab a few tissues and wipe at the corner of his eyes. 

Taehyung rolls his eyes in annoyance. "Sometimes I can't tell if you're a drama queen or a little kid." 

Jimin looks at Taehyung with a clueless expression. As long as he pretends he has no clue what Taehyung is talking about, it should be good. 

Taehyung simply scoffs and shakes his head in defeat. "Do you want to talk about it or should I just leave?" 

This has Jimin facing away from Taehyung and he scowls at the centre table. "I have nothing to talk about."

"Cool then, I have some important work to do, I'll get going." 

"Sure do that. Leave me. Everyone does, why shouldn't you?"

Ah. Drama queen, it is. 

"So what Y/N left? Like did she leave you on seen or something? Is that why you're so sad and upset?" Taehyung guesses the possible cause of Jimin's state from his words. 

Jimin wishes it was that simple. He honestly would give anything for Taehyung's words to be right, for that being the cause of his sadness. But if only.

Taehyung deduces that things might not be that simple when Jimin does not give a verbal answer and appears to become more sulky. 

Taehyung makes his way to the couch and claims his previous seat next to Jimin. "What will you take to just tell me what went wrong? I know you're dying to let it out."

Jimin looks at his friend for a moment then suddenly reaches out to grab his phone from the table. He opens your texts and just places his phone in Taehyung's hands. 

With a small concentrated frown, he takes a look at the screen and goes through the chats. 

"So this is what has gotten you like this," he mumbles to himself.  "Have you tried talking to her and telling her that you won't be repeating the same things again?" 

Jimin shakes his head. "She never gave me the chance to do so."

Taehyung hums, deep in thought. "What do you want to do now?" 

"I don't think it matters."

"It does. Now tell me what do you want?"

Jimin looks up at the ceiling with blurry eyes. "I think I want us to go back to the way we were."

Taehyung, although wanting to, does not show the disbelief he feels at Jimin's words. He keeps his composure calm so that Jimin does not feel uncomfortable. "What you're saying is you want to go back to the way you would annoy her and she would put up with it?"

Jimin's spirit lifts just a little bit when he remembers how things were before and he finds himself absentmindedly nodding. 

"Which would also mean going back to the way you would keep sleeping around with people and then at the same time would make flirty comments towards Y/N?" 

The tiny little corner of his mouth that had lifted, once again turns into a scowl as Taehyung's words register in his brain. It's as if he's knocked into his senses. 

Noticing that Taehyung has successfully managed to grab Jimin's attention, he hopes he can only make Jimin see his point. "Honestly, Jimin have you ever realised where you went wrong? Or did you apologise to her solely because you thought that was what she wanted and that would have her back in your life?" 

Questions. Another set of questions. Jimin could honestly scream. But something about Taehyung's gaze makes him unable to run away from the queries like he has been doing all this time.

He considers Taehyung's words for a moment and then mumbles in a small voice, "I don't know."

Taehyung hums, having guessed that answer. 

"I just wanted to apologise to her because I know I have hurt her," Jimin keeps his tone soft and vulnerable. "I may not know all the ways in which I have hurt her but I know I should have respected her wishes and should have stopped flirting with her when she had asked."

"I may not know exactly how or why it affected her but I know it led her to be angry–" Jimin breaks off suddenly when a thought occurs to him and soon he looks even more ashamed, "–and they say all anger stems from hidden pain. If that's true then I must have caused her pain."

Taehyung releases a breath he didn't know he was holding. He wonders how his friend can be both stupid and smart at the same time and why exactly does his brain start working when the damage has already been done. 

"So you realise that you have caused her some sort of pain?" 

"I must have," Jimin agrees. 

"Have you then tried figuring out what exactly she means to you?" 

Jimin's tears have dried, thanks to the ongoing conversation that has distracted him enough to have the wheels of his brain running again.  

"She's someone I care about a lot and someone I want in my life." 

"As a friend?" Taehyung pushes. 

Jimin nods. 

Taehyung hums, "I think you really need to sit with yourself and think things through." 

—-------------------------------------------------------

Jimin is dumb and Taehyung is loyal.

Which is why the latter finds himself in the middle of a party, waiting for you to arrive. 

A week of Jimin moping and being a sullen child, had Taehyung take matters into his own hands. Jimin could not possibly figure things out by himself even if everyone around him could. Taehyung only hopes he will admit what has been brewing for a long time, when his feelings smack him right across the face. 

Taehyung leans against the bar counter, his eyes hardly moving from the entrance as he waits for you to walk through the door. 

It takes about another fifteen minutes of his eyes locked on the door, for you to finally emerge. 

Taehyung relaxes a breath. He had to do a lot of digging to find a common friend and for him to convince that common friend to somehow convince you to come to the party. He wasn't sure if all of this would work, but now that you're here, success is a step closer. 

He gives you five minutes to say your hi's and hello's and then, he's making his way to you. 

"And you must be Y/N?" 

You look at the guy who seems to know you by your name and frown when you don't recall ever having interacted with him. "And you must be?"

"Taehyung. Kim Taehyung."

Your brain clicks in realisation. Taehyung, a name you have heard Jimin mention many times. However, this is the first time that you get to put a face to the said name. 

"I have heard of you," you nod as a feeling of reluctance takes over you. Why is Taehyung approaching you? 

He smiles. "I'm not surprised by that."

You return his smile awkwardly and wonder what you should be saying next. "How do you know me?" 

"Let's just say I have heard of you as well," his smile turns into a full-blown grin as if he's enjoying this. 

"From Jimin?" 

"Ah yes. We both have an idiot named Jimin in our lives."

You feel your traitor heart get curious at the confirmation. Taehyung knows of you from Jimin? Jimin talked about you to his friends? The thought of that catches you with surprise as you never thought you were ever important enough to him, for him to do that. You thought you were just another girl who fell for him. However, your curiosity is soon overtaken by the thought of him making light and fun of your feelings.

"That idiot, however, speaks highly of you, which is why I just could not miss the opportunity to speak to you," Taehyung quips, sensing the thoughts inside your head. 

You look at Taehyung, wondering what to make of his words. You just find it difficult to believe that Jimin speaks highly of you. One speaks highly of the people they respect and well—no, you don't want your mind to wander there.

"So you're here speaking to me, to verify the things Jimin has said about me?" You keep your tone light, playful and teasing, so as to not come off as rude. While, on the inside, you're really confused as fuck as to what to make out of this. Does Taehyung not know of the recent changes in the dynamics between you and Jimin? 

"Oh no, absolutely not," he shakes his head. "I do not doubt a thing Jimin has said about you. I'm only here out of sheer curiosity and with the intent to get to know you better."

And some ulterior purposes. That part he leaves unspoken. 

You observe him for a moment and relax a little when you realise that he seems genuine. You don't know, why he's here and what he wants from you, but you decide talking to him won't be of any harm.

—---------------------------------------------------------

Jimin is grumpy as fuck when he walks in and is greeted by the loud music that blasts through the speakers. Goodness, why did he enjoy partying, again? 

He really wouldn't be here had it not been for Taehyung's constant nagging that he had something important to say, and that couldn't be done unless he attended the party. 

Technically, his words made zero sense. Taehyung couldn't just say whatever important thing he had to say, over the phone? Apparently, according to him, he couldn't. 

He prays to whatever god is out there, for the sake of Taehyung that he finds him soon. 

The universe, however, has other plans. 

Jimjn spots you before he spots Taehyung. He sees you smiling wide and even in the dimmed lights, he can see the way your eyes shine with amusement and joy. As selfish as it is, Jimin feels any amount of hope he might have had, leave at the sight. You're clearly doing fine without him. A part of him wishes you weren't. 

It feels eerily similar to the time when he had spotted you on his way to class. 

But then he realises you are with a guy. A strange emotion fills him, one that he believes he hasn't felt before, ever. He realises he's jealous. He's so jealous of the lucky bastard who's getting to make you laugh and with whom you seem so comfortable with. With that jealousy, comes a huge wave of insecurity. The guy doesn't seem to have messed up like Jimin did. He doesn't seem to be someone you feel the need to cut off your life. All of which Jimin has done and is. 

However, when the light falls on the face of the said guy, Jimin is hit with a sense of anger and confirmation that the said guy is much, much better than Jimin is. 

Taehyung is smart, has a good sense of humour and surely knows more when it comes to matters of the heart. Whereas, Jimin has only been confused and no matter how hard he has tried, he has been unsuccessful in clearing up the cloud of confusion. 

For a brief moment, he is taken back to the words Taehyung had said to him–you're so in love–which Jimin had found utterly ridiculous at the time. However, now that he finds himself in the hold of jealousy and a brewing insecurity that only you hold the power to put a stop to, he doesn't find the idea as absurd. 

He's never been in love before. But somehow he is still hit with the realisation that all his desperation, anger, jealousy and insecurities stem from one thing and one thing only. His love for you. 

He is hit with more and more clarity with each passing moment as he stares at you. An overwhelming urge to make you his, washes over him and with strong, determined steps, he walks in the direction where you chat with Taehyung. 

The moment the two of you realise Jimin's presence, your smile falters whereas Taehyung's widens.

"Jimin," you whisper, caught completely off guard. 

"Y/N," he greets you back. "I wasn't expecting to see you here."

"Me neither," you mumble in a small voice. 

"How have you been?" 

Neither of you miss the fact that this was the very same question he had asked via text, to which you had made it clear that things would never be the same, instead of actually answering him. 

However, now that you both stand in front of each other, you think it would be incredibly rude to not answer him. "I'm fine." 

Your short answer leaves no further room for conversation and it's only when you realise that Jimin refuses to avert his eyes from you, that you ask him back the same question. 

"I've been anything but fine," Jimin answers, without missing a beat. 

His answer is similar to yours in terms of being short and vague. However, his response means exactly the opposite of yours. 

You stifle the question that's on the tip of your tongue and push away the overgrowing concern at his answer. This is exactly why you had chosen to end whatever friendship you two had over text. You were unsure of the feelings Jimin would stir within you. Sure, you have made the choice of moving on from him but there was no denying that you haven't moved on yet. 

You nod and think it would be best to include Taehyung in the conversation. He would surely know how to break the tension. However, you realise at the same time as Jimin does that Taehyung has disappeared into thin air. 

Taehyung's gone, you think with surprise and disbelief, having no clue when he left. 

Taehyung's gone, Jimin thinks, beaming with glee and satisfaction. 

"Do you want a drink?" Jimin asks, having no intention of leaving. 

"I could actually do with some alcohol," you mumble mainly to yourself, but somehow despite the loud music, Jimin manages to hear you. The very next moment he has two drinks in his hands and gracefully offers you one.

"I have a few things to say," he says after a few sips.

Oh god. Please be kind to my heart. You stay quiet. You were not prepared to face Jimin. After texting him that day, you had honestly thought that was it. It was hard for you to send him those words. So incredibly hard. But you knew it was for the best.  

A part of you had wished for Jimin to regret losing you. But you knew that thought to be impractical. You knew in reality, Jimin must have slipped into someone's bed instead of giving you a second thought. You had honestly thought Jimin's attempt at apologising with flowers was merely a result of his hurt to the ego. Nevertheless, you appreciate his effort and know better than to have any further expectations from the man. 

However, this is incredibly confusing. More so, because the Jimin who was sending you those flowers would run away right after he knew that the flowers had reached their destination. However, this Jimin, stands in front of you with eyes locked with yours, refusing to back down. 

"I had sent those flowers to you, because I knew I had to apologise. I knew I messed up. I knew I hurt you. Don't get me wrong, the knowledge that I had hurt you was enough of a slap on my face, but I didn't know what it felt like for you," he takes a pause, "but now I do."

Jimin is aware that comparing what he has put you through with what he felt for merely a few minutes after seeing you with Taehyung, is completely unfair. However, it'd be fair to say he has got a taste of his own medicine and he fucking hates himself to have you put through that, over and over again. 

"I know now, because–," he takes a deep breath, afraid you won't believe him, "–I have come to the realisation that I'm in love with you."

Your pupils dilate in shock and after a brief moment, your expressions morph into that of disbelief, much like Jimin had expected. 

"I don't expect you to believe it. I know I haven't done much to earn your trust. All I ask is for you to give me a chance to prove myself."

You're too shocked to make coherent thoughts. As a matter of fact, the severity of Jimin's words doesn't click in your brain. How can it, when you have seen it for yourself how appalled Jimin feels at the thought of commitment? How can you digest the thought of Jimin saying these words, that too, to you? 

"What do you want, Jimin?" You ask wanting the interaction to be cut short, afraid that the longer you stay in his presence the more you will find yourself inclined to believe his words. 

"Let me take you out on a date." 

Kim Taehyung

I'm in a relationship.

You absent-mindedly stare at the words on your screen as you feel the mix of emotions resurface yet again. 

Taehyung is in a relationship. The Taehyung you love so dearly, is in a relationship. And if you are to go with his status updates, he's quite happy about it as well. 

How do you feel about it, exactly? 

You feel betrayed, hurt, confused, angry, perplexed, sad, annoyed, embarrassed, lonely, frustrated, upset. These emotions are only a few to name. There's so much you think and believe, you still haven't figured out yet. Anytime, you try to focus on your emotions in hopes that you will be able to let it all out, all you come up with is an empty feeling. 

That's another thing. You haven't cried at all. But you want to. You want to just let all of it hit you at once and get it off your chest. Because the heavy uncomfortable feeling that often stirs your heart is not something you wish to deal with for long. 

Sometimes your mind comes up with all the little things and moments that had made Taehyung so special to you and you find yourself this close to breaking into uncontrollable sobs. But then it just never happens. It's like someone is pressing the accelerator and the brake at the same time and you're just there, frozen in time, not knowing what to do. 

You doubt if you have even fully grasped the concept of Taehyung being in a relationship. The thought that he's in one and you got to learn about it only after he committed, that too through a WhatsApp status, is completely unbelievable to you for some reason. No matter how much you try, a part of you doesn't want to believe it.

It's a whole set of emotions you never thought Taehyung would make you feel. He was your feel-good person, one of your best friends and someone you trusted with your entire heart. It's something you don't even know as to how to react to. 

"Y/N!"

You blink back to reality when someone shakes you by your shoulders. "Huh?" 

"You zoned out again."

"Oh," you speak in a tone of realisation, "I'm sorry–"

"Nothing to apologise for. Just forget whoever that guy is. He's surely not treating you right if you have this conflicted look on your face all the time."

If only it were that easy. You wish it was that easy. 

You chuckle at your next desk co-worker, Shanaya's, words. "I will surely contemplate on your words." 

"Men don't deserve shit from us if they treat us like shit," she nods seriously. "And with the way, you have had this sad-confused look in your eyes for a whole week now, I strongly doubt that man is any good for you."

Oh yeah, it's been a week.

Although, you could have been fooled by how the admittance of his relationship remains the last text exchanged between the two of you. You just didn't know how to respond to him at that time. You were too busy absorbing the shock to think of a proper response. 

You had just shut your net off and tried your hardest to fall asleep. But you just couldn't get a blink of sleep and since then you also couldn't bring yourself to pretend to be fine with him, when you were far from it.

Maybe you had posted your status a little too frequently to subtly let him know that you're online and well-active on your socials but are simply choosing to not talk to him. On the other side of the coin, is the fact that you feel disheartened that he hasn't made any effort to talk to you. It's the longest the both of you have gone without talking to each other. 

A hand waves in front of your face gaining your attention as your co-worker looks at you knowingly. 

"See! Not good for you."

You smile at her words and shake your head softly, amused by her straightforward and direct nature. 

—-----------

"How are you?"

You roll your eyes before replying. "I'm fine, I'm fine."

"Hmm," your best friend hums. "On a scale of 1 to 10?"

"Idk man, 7?"

"That's an improvement," she speaks to herself. "Now tell me, have you blocked Taehyung, yet?"

"I won't do that," you reply softly with a tone of surety. 

She sighs over the phone. "Babe, he's a dick. Why haven't you cut him off yet, is beyond me."

Your best friend is of the kind whom if you call crying, she'd ask you to first get rid of the person who's responsible for your tears and then she will allow you to tell her what went down for you to cry. If only she were in the same city as you, she'd have committed the crimes herself instead of having to beg you to do them. 

She's protective of you, incredibly so. 

When you had told her everything about Taehyung, she had muttered to herself something along the lines of how she knew he was gonna turn out to be a dickhead. You never queried her on that because in a way you knew what she meant. 

On learning about the situation you and Taehyung were in and about his unwillingness to be in a relationship, she was very firm about making her point that Taehyung was only making excuses. She was adamant that a person who really loves you wouldn't come up with reasons as to why they shouldn't be together. At the time, you had acknowledged what she was trying to say but you added that sometimes people get scared and fear often turns out to be an emotion that is rather difficult to overcome.

With much reassurance from your side that Taehyung was a great guy, she had let go of the topic. However, to say that Taehyung has now earned the entirety of your best friend's hatred, would be an understatement. You'd have been really concerned about his safety had she been in the city. 

"He–", you pause briefly, "–isn't a bad guy." 

Your friend scoffs. "Right. He's the worst."

"He is nice," you say a little more firmly. 

"Oh! Yes please, someone please give him a Nobel prize for his niceness!"

To your surprise the tone in which she speaks, makes you burst out laughing. "You really hate him, don't you?"

"Has he ever given me a reason to NOT despise him?" 

You chuckle as your laughter dies off. "Well, I don't blame you. I'd hate the guy as well if I was in your place."

"Hah! So you agree on something with me."

"But," you emphasise on the word, "he's not a bad guy. I don't know how everything turned out to be this way but trust me he has a very tender heart."

"I cannot believe you're making excuses for him, Y/N." 

Her surprisingly soft tone serves as a reminder that your best friend is probably one of the most compassionate and understanding people you've ever met. The only time you've seen her behave like an angry child who's ready to throw some punches, is when you get hurt. 

And admittedly, you're the same way when it comes to her.

"I'm not making excuses for him, I know him. He'd never intentionally hurt someone."

"But he did hurt you!!!"

"I know and I doubt he realises it," you sigh. "But I need to know his side of things."

"I'm sure he will run if you try to confront him," she grumbles. "He'll probably not even reply if you tell him how much of a dick he's been."

"Heyyy," a childish whine escapes your lips. "I have more faith in him than that. He respects me enough to talk things out."

She makes a sound of complete disbelief, "You bet my ass he would just pull stuff out of his ass."

"We will see," you chuckle.

You had to make up your mind sooner or later and somehow the conversation with your best friend has reminded you of the faith you have in Taehyung. If you need answers, you're sure he'd give them. Most importantly, you don't plan on losing the friendship you have with him this easily. But you don't think you'd be able to just push everything aside and pretend that things are fine. You need to clear it out. You need for him to realise that he has hurt you and you need to know how things changed so quickly. 

—————————————————————

You: hey 

It took you another day to get the simple three-letter word out of your system. But you do it the very first thing in the morning after waking up. Whatever roller coaster ride of emotion it is going to take you on, you want it over by today. 

Thankfully, it takes only ten minutes for your phone to ping to notify you of a message from Taehyung. 

Tae 🐻: hello, birdie 👋

A snort escapes you when you imagine all the lovely cuss words that would leave your best friend's mouth if she were to learn of his response to your 'hey'.  

You, too, find yourself being amused yet disappointed at how oblivious he seems to be. 

You: I'm sorry for not responding to your texts any sooner

Chewing on your lower lip, you click on the send button. While this text is meant to serve as an apology, it also serves as a means for you to know whether he really is as clueless as he seems. You're curious if he's at least aware that something must have been wrong for you to not text for this long.

Tae 🐻: It's okay, don't worry. I understand!

Tae 🐻: work can get busy 

Tae 🐻: it's fine! 

Sighing, you realise it's fruitless. You need to be upfront as there's no other way for you to go about it. 

You: uhmm thanks 

You: but before we catch up and all that, can I just get a few things off my chest?

Tae 🐻: sure! Go ahead. 

Suddenly you find yourself feeling anxious. You are not quite sure how this is going to turn out and how you're going to put your emotions into words. It sure appears to be a difficult job considering how muddled your brain feels every time you think about the events that have led to this.

You:  i don't really know how to say what i want to say lol

You: this is so awkward

Tae 🐻: just say it

Tae 🐻: it's the same ol' me after all

Some of your anxiety softens at his words. 

You: i know but i just dk how to say it 😂

Tae 🐻: that's okay

Tae 🐻: would it be more comfortable for you if I were to go offline? and I can check your messages when you give me the green signal to open your texts? 

Now that he mentions it, you think that would be lovely. That way you could take your time figuring out how to word your sentences without having the rush of typing things out fast over the worry of him coming to assumptions before you say the full thing. 

You: that'd be great! 

You: thank you! 

Tae 🐻: well then, I'll go offline. You speak your heart out 😌

You: open my texts only when you see a thumbs up or a message that directly asks you to open it. Okay?

Tae 🐻: done 👍

Sighing, you relax on your sofa and think. Now that he's offline, you need to figure out what to say. Rather, where to start because you just have so much to say. 

It takes you another two or three minutes before you start typing. 

You: so idk how this is gonna sound or how it's gonna get interpreted but I really need this out of my chest for it's been bothering me the last few days. 

You: so ummm, you know we both had openly admitted to having feelings for each other and then you told me you weren't really ready for a relationship? And I agreed to things being the way they were because I never wanted to pressurise you. I always wanted to be a friend first, whom you can trust and feel safe with, more than anything else. 

You: it's true that we never had a name for what we were. But it's because of that very reason that it always remained very confusing to me as to where we stood. Especially where you stood. 

You: i always could have asked in the course of the year as to where we stood but i always let you be because i was cautious that asking you, would in a way, pressurise you. 

You: however, that is not to say that i wasn't put in a dilemma when i would get propositions for going out on dates or when someone would ask me out. 

You: i didn't know where your feelings for me lied. While I avoided any assumptions, i also didn't act as if you did not have feelings for me. Because what if you did and then my actions hurt you? I knew how much you have been hurt in the past and i just didn't want to add to that. 

Your fingers pause as you take a look at what you have covered so far. When you go through your last two texts, you go awry at the thought of sounding like someone who's claiming to have done him some huge favour. 

You: I'm not saying all this to say that i have done you a huge favour or something by the way. Or that you owe me something in return. 

You: I'm just saying this because when you're so cautious and thoughtful over someone, it hurts to be on the receiving end of actions that make you feel incredibly stupid. 

You: it would have been better if you had told me, you know? That "hey, there's this girl i like," and I'm not saying in a way that you had to take my permission or something but just that it would have been nice to know that you thought of me and of what kind of an effect it would have on me. 

You: I just wish I didn't have to learn from a WhatsApp status 

You pause before thinking if you have missed anything. When you go through your words, you realise that you indeed have missed something important. 

You see, in the mix of all the heavy emotions, you also are happy. You're happy for him. That's something you realised the very day you learned about his relationship. It's odd but even in the midst of all the confusion you were feeling, a part of you felt glad.

You were glad that he found someone he loves and someone who makes him happy. You also found yourself excited on his behalf. 

You won't lie, you were surprised that you weren't jealous. Before Taehyung, for a long time, you had hardly had any guy in your life except for fleeting crushes. Even then, you can acknowledge the fact that jealousy is a very natural emotion to feel in this scenario. However, when you realised that you were happy for him and that happiness did not originate from a place where you had to force it, you were also proud. 

To you, there's no greater testimony of your love than that. 

You: i don't think i have mentioned this before but I'm really happy and excited for you.

You: go ahead and open your texts ig 😂

There are questions in your mind that you think would have been better had you asked them. Questions as to how he was unwilling to be in a relationship when it came to you but suddenly found himself being in a relationship a year later? 

However, you decide that's something you'd rather not ask. 

When you think of it, you indeed find it unfair and there's perhaps that hint of anger that bubbles in your stomach. But you recognise that there's no purpose in asking that question. 

It's possible that his feelings for her run deeper than they ever did for you. Or it could be the fact that they work together and it's human that you'd grow close to someone who's there with you physically rather than someone whom you only talk to over the phone or via texts. 

But figuring out the why is none of your business. Neither is it something you're concerned with. Whatever the reason might be, he's in a relationship and he has already made a choice. The why is irrelevant now. 

Another reason, the why is irrelevant to you is because, you have never found yourself thinking along the lines of what you could have done differently for him to stay and choose you. You have never wondered if it was something you lacked. You'd never let yourself think that way for anyone. Once upon a time, you did. You were filled with insecurities and would question yourself anytime someone would hurt you or leave you. But you have overcome that and have learnt to love yourself. You'd never undo all that progress by entertaining those thoughts ever again. Even if it's Taehyung. 

Three little dots appear at the bottom of the screen letting you know Taehyung is typing. His text soon arrives making your breath hitch. 

Tae 🐻: I have read your texts. Give me some time, and I'll reply to them. 

So you'll have to wait. 

It's fair you think, he can take the time he needs, to figure out what he has to say. 

You only hope you can get over this soon. 

—--------------------------------------------------------

It's been an entire day since Taehyung said he'd reply to your texts but unfortunately, he hasn't yet. 

You know he will reply, you have that faith in him but you only wish he'd do it sooner. There's that lingering anxiety that comes with being unable to predict what he's going to say. 

You have also been wondering if you have worded your words correctly. You found yourself worrying what if you came across as jealous and as someone who's unhappy for him? You really hope you didn't sound bitter because you aren't. 

Yes, there's a part of you that is sad because the moments that you thought were special for the both of you, were all in your head. Because you loved him.

There's also this feeling that now you have been replaced. That now, things won't ever be the same. Perhaps, a part of you wishes you could stay in your head a little longer and pretend. 

But all of that aside, you also have immense amounts of trust in the friendship you both share. Taehyung is someone who is incredibly kind and loving, and he's a great friend in general and you're sure that both of you would somehow manage to keep your friendship intact.

Penny: Has he replied yet? 

You look down at the screen to find a text from your best friend.

You: no 

You: not yet 

Penny: huh told you

Penny: he's a dick 

You smile and shake your head.

Knowing you have a long day ahead, you cook yourself a plate full of breakfast and get ready for work. In a way, you're glad that there's work to keep you busy. You do not know what you'd have done had it been a Sunday. You'd probably have been restless as fuck and would have been checking your phone every five minutes.

Thanks to your workload, you only get time to check your phone during lunch. However, the workload doesn't help with the disappointment you feel, when each time that you do check your phone and find that there's no new message from Taehyung. The disappointment only increases when you realise he has put a status about some funny fact regarding hyenas. 

Whatever he sends you as a response to your texts, it better be good to have you kept waiting this long. 

—--------------------------------------------------------

It's nine in the evening and you're at home when you finally receive Taehyung's text. Your anxiousness is overpowered by curiosity and impatience as you click on his message. It's a wordy and lengthy one. 

Tae 🐻: I was confused, Y/N. Very confused. Although I had confessed my feelings to you, I was extremely confused and scared to take a step forward. When things with Kira ended, I was lonely and sad and my thoughts were very self-destructive. I had zero self-confidence. Talking to you, spending time with you, and texting you gave me the greatest joy and it acted as an escape from those thoughts, feelings and difficulties I was facing at the time. However, if you ask me now, where my feelings originated from, I wouldn't be able to tell. Were they genuine or a result of my love-starved state, I wouldn't be able to tell. But I'm glad it did as it helped me move on from the grief that accompanied my breakup. You have no idea how much you helped me at the time and I was selfish enough to take all of it, without thinking of the consequences, one of which was falling for you. This conversation we are having now is one which we should have had long ago. But I was scared that me not taking the step forward and telling you all this, would make you lose interest in me. Instead, I kept you hanging. I thank you for always being such an amazing friend. I have always loved you but I was too scared to put the tag of a relationship. I mistook my infatuation as readiness for being in a relationship. I'm guilty of all the things you mentioned but I don't know what to do to make things right, as I really don't want to lose the friendship we have. With all that I have done, you'd obviously think that I don't care about you, or at least not as much as you do, but trust me, I do. I have just been shit at expressing my gratitude and telling you how much you mean to me. I'll do better. I just hope you have it in your heart to forgive me for my mistakes. Thank you.

Something that you have been really hoping for, finally happens. You cry. 

Fat, angry droplets of tears roll down your face and you close your eyes shut as the searing pain spreads in your chest. 

Everything just feels so final and also so fruitless. 

Three little dots appear at the bottom of the screen and you realise that Taehyjng must have noticed that you have read his message. 

Tae 🐻: say something

Tae 🐻: this is making me anxious 😅

Despite your blurry vision and him being the cause of your pain, you feel the need to put him at ease. 

You: i appreciate you being honest with me 

You: I'll reply properly in a while 

You: just let me have a good cry first 

The petty part of you wants him to know that you're crying, you want him to know how hurt you are. 

Tae 🐻: Y/N?

Tae 🐻: are you okay?

You don't reply, not having it in yourself to lie.

You let your tears flow as you cry silently.

It's too much for you. You feel used. You feel like a rebound. You feel like a bridge he walked on to reach his destination and to move on from his past. Your heart feels walked all over. Your love feels irrelevant. 

It's true that you wanted to make him feel good. You wanted him to move on from the hurt caused by Kira. You wanted him to feel good about himself. All because you loved him. But you never thought your love was so disposable to him. That it would only be the means for him to move on to someone else. 

What's worse is, despite all of that you understand. You understand that it wasn't a conscious choice of his to hurt you. He, himself, wasn't aware that he was using your love to heal himself. 

It's worse because a part of you feels bitter and angry. If you were the one who helped him get over his hurt, shouldn't he show at least a bit of loyalty to you? You feel angry because he didn't communicate, he left you in the dark and just assumed that you must have been detached enough from your feelings for you to not be bothered by his new relationship. But then a part of you understands that as well. 

With Taehyung, it's a tug of war where you want to be mad at him and feel betrayed by him but no matter what, your love for him makes you see things from his point of view. 

In a way, you find it surprising as well because you never realised just how deep your love runs. Seeing their side of things despite the hurt they have caused? Isn't that love at its purest? However, that makes you ache in pain as well. You loved him as your own. Only to realise that his love for you was merely an infatuation.

His love for you was shallow. 

You think it would have been better if he were an asshole whom you could just hate. It would have been easier for you because you'd know he wasn't worth your time. But how do you handle all of this when he's one of your closest friends? 

That's a question you'd probably need time to answer. You need time to let the stinging pain in your chest subside. You need time to let yourself process the silent heartbreak you're going through. 

With shaky hands and blurry vision, you block Taehyung. 

—--------------------------------------------------------

Last Friday of every month, all your colleagues go out to have dinner and drinks together. You enjoy accompanying them because honestly, it is nice and fun, almost like a little treat to yourself. However, this week, you're not really sure you'd like that. You don't have the energy to socialise.

One might argue that with recent events in mind, the best thing to do would probably be just that, to socialise, as it would take your mind off things that have been bugging you. But then you have always been the type who needs energy to socialise rather than the kind who energises themselves from socialising. 

You have almost completed packing your bag when someone taps on your shoulders. 

"You're coming with us today, right?" Shanaya queries, having a suspicious glint in her eyes as if she's already aware of your plans of not joining. 

Shaking your head softly, you confirm her suspicions. However, Shanaya is having none of that.

"You have to come," she insists, sounding determined. "It's my birthday treat."

You're thoroughly surprised at the information. "It's your birthday today? Oh my god, I'm so sorry–"

"It's not today, it's tomorrow," she cuts you off. "But tomorrow is off so it's an early birthday treat."

She looks at you with such pleading eyes that you cannot bring yourself to say no to her. Reluctantly you smile and the next thing you know, you're being wrapped in a warm hug. 

"Yay, thank you," she squeals, excited. "Now common, let's go."

As it turns out, today's destination is one stop away. Usually, you all go to someplace that's near and doesn't require transportation. However, Shanaya wanted to take all of you to a particular place that, according to her, serves the best dumplings and noodles. Who can say no to Shanaya, anyway?

As you sit there and wait with the others for the bus to arrive, you look at the screen with Taehyung's conversation open. 

It's only yesterday that you unblocked him. You were well aware that you'd be unblocking him and talking to him again at some point. The friendship was too precious for you to let go. And it's not something you're saying simply because you love him. If you were to look back, Taehyung has never been a bad friend to you. He's been there for you whenever you needed. He has never let you down when it comes to friendship. 

However, you doubt you're ready to talk to him just yet. That doesn't mean you don't want to.

There's just so much that you have to tell him. The little things that have occurred over the course of the two weeks that you had him blocked. Everything feels a little incomplete unless shared with him. 

Your fingers hover over his profile picture and you hesitate to click on it. He has uploaded a new profile picture and you wonder if it is too weird to just stare at it.

"Y/N?" 

The sound of your name startles you and while trying to hide your phone screen, you accidentally end up clicking on the small call button right next to the profile picture. 

Shit. Shit. Shit. 

You cut the call immediately and stare at the screen which now shows his name at the top of your call logs. He's gonna see a missed call from you, shit. 

"The bus is here, Y/N."

Oh right, that must be why Mike had called for you. You quickly gather your thoughts and get on the bus, shying away from the worried look Shanaya throws your way. 

When you get a seat on the bus, the first thing you do is shoot him a text. You indeed are not ready to talk to him but your accidental call has ruined your plans. 

You: I'm so sorry

You: i called you by mistake

You know it will probably be a while until he sees your call and your text and it's a good thing that you have your co-workers to accompany you. That way you'd be distracted enough to not fret about it unnecessarily. 

All of you get down when your stop arrives and make your way inside the small restaurant. 

The chatter and the giggles and the latest gossip about your boss is enough for you to temporarily ignore the sinking sadness that sits at the pit of your stomach. 

"Y/N, drinks?"

Your colleagues are well familiar with the answer to this question. You don't prefer drinking. The reason behind that, however, is not known to them.

Like the majority of people, you enjoy getting drunk and letting it loose. However, you're the kind of drunk who gets giggly and finds every little thing amusing. And for some reason, you feel comfortable to let that part of you out, only in the presence of a few people. Four, to be exact. 

One, your best friend. Two, Min Yoongi. Three, Lee Sana. And four, Kim Taehyung. 

Needless to say, you hardly ever get the chance to get drunk. 

The usual answer rests on the tip of your tongue, but there's also this desperation for you to let go of the heaviness. You really could do with some giggles and amusement.

"I'd probably have some whiskey," you reply with a shy unsure smile as your colleagues cheer.

The night somehow refuses to come to an end as you all soon find yourselves seated on the floor of Kate's apartment, in a circle. It starts off with some dancing and then Nitesh takes up the guitar and starts singing. He's a good singer, you can appreciate that and everyone's having fun with big smiles on their faces as they clap along with the beats. 

You have had three shots so far and for the love of god, you still feel that melancholy. It heightens when you realise you're sad in such a fun environment. Despite wanting to join them in their fun, your mind keeps wondering what it would be like if Taehyung were here. Gosh, it's been so long since the both of you have hung out and truthfully, it has never bothered you before. Whatever communication you two had was more than enough for you. Sharing the little details about your day, sending him silly stickers, all that held more meaning to you than he probably ever realised. That was much more intimate to you than anything physical.

You shake your head to yourself when you realise you're here being sad over a guy who wasn't even your boyfriend. It's so ridiculous. 

But then again, despite the lack of a label, you were loyal to him with your entirety.

Geez, the alcohol seemingly has made you more sensitive. 

"You sure are having fun," Shanaya comments. "I'm assuming the alcohol didn't help much?"

It doesn't take rocket science for someone to figure out that if a person who's never said yes to drinks before suddenly willingly says yes to them, there must be some pain they are trying to numb. 

"Surprisingly, no."

She hums. "Wanna talk about it?" 

Shanaya has asked this question to you multiple times over the span of the last few days. Never has it made you feel as if it's coming from a place where she is prying for details. It has only made you feel as if she's letting you know she's all ears, whenever you need her. Each time, you have shrugged as if it's not a big deal, as if it's not important enough for you to talk about. However, now, you really could do with a shoulder to cry on.

Hence, you vent and even amid all the noise and music, she intently listens to your words without interrupting even once. 

When you finish, she releases a heavy sigh. "That's what you meant when you said it was complicated."

You chuckle at the reminder of the response you had given to your then-new co-workers, to being asked about your love life. You were so cautious of hurting Taehyung, having no idea that it was going to be him, hurting you.

"Do you plan on being friends with him?" 

You don't miss the edge her tone has, as if she believes it's not worth it. Either that, or she thinks it's not possible to be friends with someone who's hurt you like that.

"I do," your reply is instantaneous. 

"Don't you feel angry?"

"I do," of course you are angry. It would be absurd if you were not. 

"Are you sure that is a good idea?"

You're not. You know the dynamic between you and Taehyung would never be the same again. Things would be different. You have now realised that things which meant a lot to you, perhaps never held the same meaning to him. The dynamic is bound to change. But is that good enough of a reason to cut your friendship off?

"He's only a human. People fall in love and sometimes, they fall out of love. I do not control the way he feels and when it comes to love, I don't think any of us have a control over who we fall for or when we fall," you release a sigh. Maybe it's all the more difficult for you because you still love him despite everything. "He's not in the wrong for falling for someone just because it's not me. I wish he would have not kept me in the dark but we all make mistakes, we all mess up."

"But more importantly, he's a friend first and he's always been an incredible friend to me. Now, I wouldn't be a good friend if I were to ever entertain the idea of making him choose between me and his happiness, would I?" 

She remains quiet for a moment, observing you closely. "Do you mean all that you said?"

You nod. 

She chuckles. "Well then, you have one of the purest hearts I have ever come across."

—--------------------------------------------------------

You were aware that there were unread texts from Taehyung but had refused to open them until morning. The night was exhausting and more than anything, you wanted to sleep. However, when morning came rolling, there was no avoiding opening his messages. 

Tae 🐻: why are you suddenly being so formal? 😂

Tae 🐻: it's completely fine.

Relief courses through your veins at his casual tone. You don't know how you'd have responded had he mentioned you blocking him seemingly out of nowhere. However, there's a small part of you that remains curious if he had even realised you blocked him. Nevertheless, you'd much rather put all of that behind you and move forward.

You: i was randomly scrolling through my phone and the next thing i knew, my phone was calling you 

Tae 🐻: lmao 

Tae 🐻: blame it on the phone, yes

You smile. Going back to being friends might not be that difficult. 

You two chat a bit and catch up with each other about things the both of you have been up to recently. You lose track of time as you make yourself a cup of tea, refusing to let your phone down, feeling excited at the thought of telling him about the things you have been up to. 

Tae 🐻: well i have something to tell you

You: uh oh

You: go on

Tae 🐻: so last day me and Bridget went on a date 

Tae 🐻: and things got steamy 👉👈

Tae 🐻: if you know what i mean

You very well know what he means.

Your stomach sinks in disappointment.

It's not because you're jealous or that the thought of Taehyung with someone else makes you feel disheartened, you have moved past that. Rather, you feel disappointed that he thought it was something appropriate to mention to you. 

Had it been anyone else in some other scenario, you'd have had no issue. Friends, close ones especially, tend to discuss these sorts of things, don't they? However, this is Taehyung and keeping the recent events in mind, he should not have mentioned it to you at all. Especially not when, his new relationship had made you feel as if he didn't bother to think of you, once. 

He keeps on going about how it was one of the best nights of his life but you don't find it in yourself to play pretend and entertain him. Although you don't directly ask him to stop, you don't reply to his texts either.

Tae 🐻: Y/N? 

The screen reads when he's done and probably upon the realisation that you haven't said anything for a long time. 

You: nice

Oh, how you wish technology was advanced enough for the text to be read aloud on his phone in a sarcastic tone.

You: let me tell you about yesterday

You: we went back to Kate's place 

You: and i got drunk simply because i was feeling low and sad and depressed and was looking for an escape 

You: but that didn't help, only enhanced what i was already feeling

You could have probably avoided saying this but then you wanted to say it. You don't know if he'll put two and two together but it's your own way of telling him that things are still sensitive.

Tae 🐻: you sound like a typical guy whose heart has been broken 😂 

A loud laugh escapes your lips. Gosh, is this the guy you have been crying over for weeks? 

Wow.

—--------------------------------------------------------

Taehyung has let you down, as a friend. More than once. 

A few days back, he'd asked if he could send you a poem that he'd written. You had always known he liked writing stuff and hadn't thought much of it. However, upon asking what it was about, he had replied 'newfound love'. Your reply to which had been, 'In that case, I'm not interested'. 

You didn't care how that sounded, you were not gonna put up with this bullshit just because it would be impolite. 

With each passing day and with each small incident where you feel as if your feelings are totally disregarded, your disappointment keeps growing. You really had not expected this kind of behaviour from Taehyung. 

One of the main reasons you had fallen for him was the way he seemed so emotionally wise. He was aware and attentive towards the people around him and was always kind. His recent attitude contradicts all of that.

There is a part of you that also recognises how his recent behaviour has made you detached. You could not say that the Taehyung you fell in love with and the Taehyung now, are the same. In a very twisted way, it made accepting the fact that there's nothing between the two of you, except friendship much easier. 

Tae 🐻: Y/N

Tae 🐻: I messed up. 

The text comes at around one in the morning. The only reason you're awake is the report that's due in two days. But the incoming text puts your fingers to a pause as worry clouds your senses. 

Is he okay? 

You: what happened? 

Tae 🐻: i messed up 

Tae 🐻: i feel so embarrassed

You: can you stop being vague? 

Tae 🐻: i sent a vm to Bridget of me singing TS 

You couldn't help rolling your eyes when you read the words. Huh, you should have seen it coming. 

Unlike other times, for some odd reason, you find yourself leaning towards the idea of entertaining him. Perhaps it's because you haven't had a proper conversation with him for a long time. And also perhaps, because you know this won't go on for long. 

You: so?

Tae 🐻: she is a huge TS fan 

Tae 🐻: she asked me to sing one of her favourite songs

Tae 🐻: and i cannot ever bring myself to say no to her

Tae 🐻: but like now that i listen back to the audio i sound terrible and i maybe did a British accent while singing

Understandably, you can see where he's coming from. The nervousness that comes with making a gesture for someone you adore and then feeling embarrassed about it, worrying whether they found it romantic or did you make a fool of yourself. And less than one month of being in a relationship is not enough to quieten the nervous jitters. 

So, you tell him what you would have, had it been any other friend. Upon further chatting you realise he genuinely feels like crawling inside a hole and never coming out. It doesn't surprise you, Taehyung has always been like that, going for the big gestures and self-doubt creeping in later.

You let yourself enjoy the normalcy and pretend that Taehyung is just another friend of yours and that he isn't someone who broke your heart.

—--------------------------------------------------------

Your phone has been buzzing and pinging since morning. Midnight to be specific. Birthday wishes have been flowing in with notes and gifs and with each message you feel more appreciated than you feel the rest three sixty-four days of the year. 

However, with each notification sound, there has also been that hope and expectation that maybe this one would be from Taehyung.

He had texted you a few days back reminding you of your upcoming birthday and although it's afternoon already, you don't really believe that he has forgotten the day altogether. 

When evening rolls around, you start growing sceptic. You squirm in your sofa, finally acknowledging that it's very well a possibility that your birthday might have slipped his mind. It makes you go back to the long, seven-hundred-word, letter he had written for your birthday, last year. 

The words make you smile.

Do you know how amazing you are? I don't think you do and it will be my job to make you see that.

Sometimes, I think I don't deserve you with how kind and loving you are but I'm so incredibly grateful for you that no amount of words would ever be enough.

I have never met someone like you, ever. 

Only a few lines from the massive paragraph that his greeting text was and the corner of your lips lift up. However, the moment is broken when you realise you're smiling. 

You shake your head as sadness fills you. You cannot let yourself recall old memories and feel the way they used to make you. It's not an option anymore.

Locking your screen, you sigh. You won't lie, you had really wanted a text from him. Anything that would show you that he still cares for you and the friendship between the both of you still held a chance. It's no wonder that you have been seeking some sort of reassurance after everything that he has done. 

It's around eleven at night that Taehyung's name first appears on your notification bar. You grin wide and open your text, glad to have been proven wrong and feeling stupid to have considered the idea of him forgetting your birthday. 

A link to a YouTube video.

Your grin disappears just as quickly and disappointment like nothing you have ever felt before, makes its way to your heart. 

You leave him on seen.

A day passes and you wonder if he will send at least a belated wish, apologising for not wishing you any sooner. But nope 

It's the day after that, the second day past your birthday when you check for any messages from him and you are led to his stories. It's slides of pictures of him and Bridget and the caption is him singing praises of her and telling the world how much in love he is because it's her birthday. 

That's your last straw.

It's probably a very small issue, forgetting birthdays and all. But to you, it's not. It just adds up to the pile of things that have made you feel like you were the only one who was taking into consideration the friendship that was at stake.

Plus, it cannot be that difficult to remember your birthday when his girlfriend's birthday is literally two days after yours. 

You have had enough. You need to walk out of Taehyung's life.  

Considering all that had made you fall for Taehyung, it's incredibly hard for you to believe that he doesn't know what he is doing and that he has forgotten basic decency. The option that was left with you, didn't make sense to you either because it implied he let you down intentionally. But the Taehyung you knew would never hurt a fly. 

It made you wonder if it was simply a result of his honeymoon phase that he had forgotten to consider how his actions could hurt people. Maybe he was too elated to think things through.  The empathetic part of you understood. But then you shook that away, knowing very well that if you were in his position, irrespective of how happy and high you were, you would never do that. 

Maybe you had realised that this was coming from the very day, he hadn't thought twice before mentioning his intimate moments with Bridget. But, boy oh boy, had you hoped to be wrong.

You had given him opportunities to prove you wrong, to give you a reason to stay but he only kept giving you reasons as to why you should leave.

It's an odd sensation that washes over you when you come to the conclusion that this isn't worth it anymore. 

You feel sad that the friendship is coming to an end. You're sure you'd miss his company and that there would be days when you mourn the friendship that once used to be. You know there would be times when you'd resent him and there would also be times when you'd feel angry at yourself for giving so much of you to him. 

But you won't ever regret your choice of leaving him. 

One thing this whole ordeal with Taehyung has made you realise is how deeply you love. How even in the midst of hurt, you were happy for him and how you saw and loved him for what he was and not for what he could be or for what he offered you. It made you take pride in the way you love. You gave him the purest form of love. 

A life where you and Taehyung are not friends, won't be your loss. It would be his. Irrespective of whether he realises that or not.

You feel oddly poweful with the knowledge that there was nothing lacking in your love and you'd never dishonour your love by staying where it isn't valued, appreciated and seen. 

But you also have a lot to say to him. You are not going to just block him and let him wonder why you did that. No, you'd tell him exactly why you left. 

—--------------------------------------------------------

It took you a couple of days to get down everything you wanted to say. There were times when you felt conscious of the ever-growing length of your letter and you had to shake off that feeling because this was going to be the last interaction between the both of you. Why stop yourself from saying everything you want to just because you're worried it'll be lengthy? 

You read the words one last time, wanting to make sure that you feel satisfied. 

Hello Taehyung, 

I hope you're doing fine. I wouldn't know how you're doing because we haven't had a proper conversation in quite some time. Or at least that is how it has felt to me. Nevertheless, I'm writing this because there's loads that I need to get off my chest. So, here we go.

When I saw you for the first time and we talked, I could feel you carried a lot of pressure on your shoulders. Almost like, you had something to prove, like you wanted to show that you weren't what you were perceived to be. Or maybe you wanted to prove that you were more than just what meets the eye. I didn't know what in particular. It felt like you wanted to be seen. 

And would you believe, I grew a soft spot for you? Do you know why? Because somewhere, I felt the same way too. 

I also knew we would be great friends, lol. You know how? Because I knew you had a heart of gold. You cared for others, you were thoughtful and kind. However, I could feel that you have a habit of being harsh on yourself and it didn't sit well with me. From the very first time we talked, I wanted to be a good friend to you, someone you could rely on, someone you could trust and someone who could possibly make you be a little less harsh on yourself. 

Perhaps with the weak spot, I also grew protective of you.

You were desperate for love and at the same time felt unworthy of it. I didn't know why though. I didn't know what had you believing so lowly about yourself. But then you told me about Kira, and it all made sense. 

It made sense why you felt unworthy and why you felt the need to prove that you were more than what others saw. Because, you believed Kira's words. You really thought you were unlovable. 

Instead of feeling the satisfaction of  being proved right, I felt so angry at Kira. I may have clawed her eyes out in my mind more than once. 

After learning the scars that she left on you, it only made me wish you could see yourself the way I do. I wished you could see that there was nothing you had to do to be loved except for just being you.

You may wonder why I'm suddenly saying all this. Well, let's just say it's necessary.

When you told me you were falling for me, I was surprised but then I felt myself feeling so warm at the thought of you liking me. It took me a few minutes to realise that I was falling for you too. 

But that was it. 

We never put a label on what we were and I was okay with it. Because I was okay with what we had, I never asked for anything because you were happy. You were also such a great friend, someone who I could talk to anything and everything about. What more could I ask for?

What's more? I could tell you were slowly coming out of whatever shell you were put in by Kira. I can't quite explain how it made me feel to see you smile more freely, to see you be more confident and be sure of yourself. But to put it lightly, it made me feel damn good lol.

I knew I had some part to play in it. I just didn't know that was the only part you wanted me to play. 

I moved past all that, trust me. You using my love as a rebound, making a girlfriend without even letting me know once, I moved past all that. Because, I trusted you when you told me you were confused and confusion is never intentional, is it? 

It hurt like a bitch to think that was all my love meant to you. But it was okay, you didn't mean to hurt me. You cared about me. You cared about our friendship. You valued it. 

Or so you said. 

I don't know if you meant it when you said it. But in case you did mean it, here are a few things not to do to the girl you used as a rebound and intend to keep the friendship with.

First, do not mention that you had sex with your new girlfriend. 

Second, do not be dumb enough to say "You sound like a typical guy whose heart has been broken" when you are the guy who's caused the damage. 

Third, do not send her the song you sang for your girlfriend and seek comfort to soothe the embarrassment you feel.

Fourth, do not ask her to read the poems you wrote for your girlfriend.

Fifth, do not forget her birthday when your girlfriend's is just two days later. 

These things didn't hurt me as much as it disappointed me. Would you believe, I laughed when you called me a typical heartbroken guy? When I got drunk the day before, my head was filled with thoughts of you and my heart was heavy with the knowledge that I was only a rebound. That day, even in the midst of alcohol, I chose our friendship over everything. I chose to forgive you. I chose to love you, still. But when you mentioned what you did, I just found it so funny to think that this was the guy I was thinking so much about and was so sad about. 

As it turns out, I'm not much fond of thoughtless people. 

But still, I hoped that somehow you'd give me a reason to stay. All you did, however, was turn a blind eye to my feelings and disrespected me.

If you were to ask me, whether my love for you is romantic or platonic, I wouldn't be able to tell. I have never sat and thought about it. All I know is I loved you, in one of the most unselfish ways possible. 

But that's not to say I don't realise how I deserve to be treated. And that's not to say that I'd stay somewhere where I'm an afterthought. 

When I said, I was happy for you and Bridget I really meant it and I hope you don't think that your relationship ever had a role to play in this decision of mine. It didn't, it was solely you that made me choose this option.

But this friendship of ours has run its course.

I would never disrespect myself by putting up with your disrespect. I loved you as long as you were worth it. But the moment you took my love for granted was the very moment you lost my respect and love, both. 

If you have made it to the end, then congrats! I didn't know if you'd read the whole thing but truth be told I don't particularly care about you reading it either. I wrote this for myself, not for you. 

Before I finish this long-ass letter, let me tell you something; you have lost one of the best people you'd ever meet in this lifetime. 

Thank you,

With Love,

The purest form.

Jeon Jungkook

His words echo in your mind and after an elongated pause, you find it in yourself to respond. “What do you mean?”

Jungkook gulps, hating how controlled your facial expressions are. In the months of knowing you, he has never seen you try this hard to hide your emotions. “Me and Niki are not actually a couple.”

“Thank you for rephrasing the sentence but I am afraid that it does not make things any clearer for me.”

Jungkook takes a sharp inhale and meets your eyes with uncertainty. “It’s just a PR stunt.”

It takes a few moments for the words to register but when they do, things start making sense, almost like puzzle pieces falling in place.

Namjoon’s hesitance in answering your question about the truth of their relationship. His lack of shock to the words you had heard Niki speak and most importantly, why Niki might have said those words. The whole relationship is not real to begin with.

“But, why?” The words leave your lips without your permission, before you’re able to catch them.

For a moment, he hesitates, wondering if it’s his place to say a few of the things he will have to, to make things clear.  But then he shakes off the worry, knowing Niki won’t mind.

“Both of our fandom, for some reason, ship us together. You know the whole ‘both are maknaes’ thing. Nevertheless, both of our companies thought it would be mutually beneficial for the two of us to put up this false act that we are dating.”

“How is it supposed to be mutually beneficial?” It doesn’t make sense to you. One of the oddest and most toxic traits of the kpop industry is how idols are expected to be loyal to their fans by remaining single. How then, a public relationship is supposed to garner anything except for unnecessary attention and hate?

“Niki is well, dating a youtuber. A female youtuber and pictures of them hanging out together didn’t take long to make it to the internet. Although at the beginning, everyone thought they were just good friends, soon there were questions as to whether it was just a simple friendship and well, people were not really happy with that idea,” he sighs, feeling tired just from thinking about everything that had led to this whole ordeal. “It wasn’t only about Niki dating a girl, it was also about her dating someone that wasn’t me. And of course, it was her girlfriend’s fault for coming between two people who are 'meant to be'. All of which ultimately made it incredibly difficult for the two of them to be at peace.”

You can imagine. The thought makes you sympathise with both of them. From Jungkook's words, it's clear the target was Niki’s girlfriend but you are sure it couldn’t have been easy for Niki to watch someone she loves hurt like that.

You understand Niki’s part of the deal. Putting up this font, would stop the threats and hate aimed at them but what was Jungkook supposed to get from this?

Jungkook looks at you and nods, acknowledging the unasked question. "When the offer first came, our company had turned it down, not seeing how it could benefit me. But I was the one who insisted and agreed."

"Why?" 

His discomfort grows and he swallows nervously, trying to gather his thoughts. "People are obsessed with me and Niki to the point where it's very predictable that they would hate it if someday I were to date someone who isn't her. I thought it would be good if we did this thing and people believed that we gave it a shot but it didn't work out. That way it would be one less thing I'd have to worry about while dating someone."

You put the thought behind of how it seems incredibly far-fetched and nod. He has answered your question about the nature of their relationship and why it was necessary. However, you still have a bunch of questions about a lot of things–starting with how crushed you felt when he moved you as Namjoon's make-up artist out of nowhere–but you do not wish to let them see the light of the day. 

Turning away, you start shuffling with some of the make-up products, indicating that the conversation is done. 

"Please say something," Jungkook pleads, tormented by your silence. 

"There's nothing more to say," you mutter, keeping away any emotion from being shown. 

"That can't be true."

You hate how sure he sounds. As if he is aware of every thought that's running in your head. As if he knows you a little too well. You absolutely despise how you might have believed the notion, once. Now, however, you do not want to. Because that'd mean he knew exactly how much hurt, his ignorance and pretence as if you don't even exist, caused you. 

"Y/N, please. We haven't talked for a long time. Please don't shut me out." 

Technically, you have two options. One, to keep ignoring him. Two, to snap at him and let every bit of your anger out. You had initially planned on sticking to option number one as it would make you look just as indifferent as Jungkook. However, now you find the option of letting words out without a filter, very appealing. 

"I know, I messed up but just talk to me–" the sound of a shaky exhale meets your ears, "–I miss spending time with you."

Well, that's some audacity. 

In the blink of an eye, you're facing Jungkook and taking several steps in his direction. You stop only a few steps away from him but you're close enough for him to notice the agony and pure rage storming through your eyes. 

"You better shut your mouth, Jeon." 

Jungkook flinches at your warning tone. However, he refuses to take the hint. "Y/N, ignoring me isn't going to solve–"

"Trust me, I'm not trying to solve anything," you speak through gritted teeth. "I'm just doing what I think is the right thing to do after someone disrespects you immensely."

"I wasn't trying to disrespect you," he claims, desperately trying to make you believe in something you don't buy for even a second.

"Yeah, ghosting me out of nowhere is not disrespecting me at all," your voice drops with sarcasm 

He feels his heart drop when you use the word 'ghosting'. Did you think that's what he did? Is that what it looked like? Gosh, this has all gotten messed up and he's the one to be blamed.

"I didn't ghost you," he mumbles, unable to look into your eyes and the sight of it causes all the pain that you had buried, to come to the surface. 

"Then please explain what it was," you voice waivers and you immediately hate yourself for showing weakness. "Please tell me what you thought you were doing by replacing me without even showing the basic decency to inform me that, yourself?"

He gulps, wondering if you'd even believe what he has to say. Even if you do, would you be willing to look past his stupidity?

"I found your note in my bag", you visibly flinch at the mention of the note. You had intentionally kept from mentioning your little confession, praying to whatever god is out there that somehow the note had been damaged before it reached the hands of the person they were meant to find. 

Jungkook notices your change of expression as it turns from hurt to embarrassed to anger and he despises himself for making you feel like that. "I had to make a quick decision and I didn't think you'd like to be my make up artist while I was fake dating Niki, especially without you having any knowledge about the fake part."

You stare at him blankly and try to process what he was saying. Did he–did he think he was doing you a favour by cutting you off?

You scoff, turn around and start packing your things with the intention of leaving the room. You're so done with this conversation.

When Jungkook understands your intention, he's quick on his feet and rushes to be right next to you. "Just give me the chance to explain myself fully."

You don't reply, your insides fuming.

"Y/N please," he begs. "Just hear me out once. Then I'll accept whatever it is that you decide for the both of us."

"I'm not gonna stand here and hear you speak utter bullshit that does nothing but let me down further."

Your voice comes with such a sense of finality that Jungkook knows, no matter how much he begs and pleads, you won't be giving him the opportunity to speak his side of things. 

Hence, he doesn't stop you when you walk past him and leave the room. But it only makes him more desperate for the day when you finally find it in your heart to give him a chance. Just one.

—-----------------------------------------------------

Jungkook has been persistent. Perhaps a little too persistent with his attempts to earn your forgiveness. Or at least that's what you assume the bouquets of flowers and little notes you find everyday at work are for. 

It's not only the flowers, it's also his constant texting and voicemails. His texts vary from a simple 'hi, what are you doing' to 'please, i miss you' and his voicemails have been a mix of him telling you about his day (something he used to do regularly when you were his makeup artist) to a more emotional version of his texts begging you to talk to him. 

You won't lie, his incessant pleadings have made you curious what more could he possibly have to say. What could be so different from what he has already said that he is so desperate? 

On one hand, you find an odd sense of satisfaction from not responding to Jungkook despite all his efforts. You don't know what that makes you but after the hurt and embarrassment you felt to the point where you had to numb yourself to block those emotions out, his tries and attempts feel like an ointment to your wounds. On the other hand, however, is a voice nagging you as to how, this cannot go on for long. The huge bouquets that wait for you everyday are soon going to catch attention and if anyone were to catch a hint of who it is from…gosh, you don't want to imagine that.

But when you will find it in yourself to have a conversation with him, still remains unknown. All you know is whenever that will be, it will be solely because you don't want word to go out. Yes, that's all it will be. 

Today when you walk into Namjoon's dressing room, there's another bouquet waiting for you. The sight of it causes you to sigh. You don't know what Namjoon thinks of this but you're thankful that he hasn't mentioned it yet. That however, made it quite clear that he has some idea as to who they are from.

You let the flowers be where they are. You have never really taken them home or put them in water, afraid that it would be interpreted as you being accepting of his efforts, when you're far from it. You're still hurt and angry. 

If anything, sometimes you despise walking into a room full of flowers as they serve as a reminder of the thoughts you had before confessing to him. You remember thinking how confessing felt like putting a delicate unbloomed flower in someone's hand and whether the bud gets to bloom or not, depends on the person you're confessing to. 

If only you had known of the thorns you would be exposed to, back then, you'd never have confessed. 

The door swings open softly and Namjoon walks in. "Good morning, Y/N."

"Good morning," you greet him back with a smile. 

"So what's on card for today?" He asks before taking his usual seat. 

"There's nothing much for today, just rehearsals and then you have a v-live," you mumble. "But firstly I need to do your weekly facial."

He huffs. "Is it the one that requires you putting a lot of slimy stuff on my face and it stays on for like thirty minutes?" 

"Yep," you reply with a light laugh. Despite what he says, you have learnt that Namjoon quite enjoys his facial sessions. Unlike a certain someone. 

Your smile falters and your sudden change of mood doesn't go unnoticed by Namjoon. 

"Have you considered speaking to Jungkook?" He asks after a brief moment of silence. 

You're taken aback by his words. Namjoon has always avoided speaking on the matter. He has never even queried as to what you do with the flowers. Hence, his direct way of questioning has you fumbling with words. 

"I d–haven't," you change your wording, fearing 'I don't want to', might just be a little too rude. 

However, your choice of answer is put to vain with the very next question he asks. "Do you want to?" 

"I don't want to," you softly shake your head, mildly afraid how Namjoon will interpret it.

He simply nods, without any trace of judgement. "I'm not saying this because I'm picking sides, but I have known Jungkook since he was a kid and I can tell that he really is sorry. 

"Whether to forgive him or not, is completely on you. But put a little trust on him that he must have some reason behind doing what he did. Just hear him out once."

You keep quiet, unsure what to say. Thankfully, Namjoon understands that and soon changes the topic of conversation to something more light-hearted. 

Hours later, when everything comes to a close and it's time for you to leave, you find yourself hesitating. Namjoon's words simply refuse to leave your mind. Put a little trust in him. How can you, when he's let you down in every way possible? When he has betrayed your trust in ways that still keep hurting you? 

You gulp when you realise there's probably no end to the hurting until you have a chat with Jungkook and hear his side. At least, that way you will know his reasoning behind everything and it will hopefully stop your self loathing for putting the note in his bag. Even if all he gives is excuses, you'd at least have the satisfaction of having heard him out. Later maybe a week, or a month from now, when your emotions subside, you wouldn't have this unscratched itch of not knowing what he had to say. 

Maybe, maybe it's for the best that you talk to him.

—-----------------------------------------------------

"Come in," Jungkook calls out in response to the knock at his door and is visibly surprised when you walk in. He quickly gets up from his seat, stuffs his phone in his pocket and with a nervous voice asks, "would you like some coffee?"

You shake your head. You're not here for coffee. "No, thank you. I'm here to talk to you."

He nods as his nervousness spikes. This is what he has wanted and hoped for so long, but now that you're here, he doubts you will believe him. What if you don't? Even worse, what if you do and still don't forgive him?

The both of you get seated and your fingers anxiously play with the strap of your handbag. "What is it that you have been wanting to tell me?"

Jungkook sighs. Pushing the nervousness away, he knows that the only thing in his power is to tell you his side of things. Otherwise, he's powerless. 

"For the things I said last day, to make sense, I would have to mention that I like you," he cannot find it in himself to look at you as he says that. "I've liked you for a long time."

The words take you by surprise, and your mouth parts in shock. The shock then morphs into disbelief and denial. He did not just confess to liking you.

"But it's never that simple when you're a famous K-pop idol," something bitter coats his words and he looks defeated. "The consequences of dating me, is something that one doesn't realise until they face it for themselves."

Jungkook has grown a thick skin. But you? He doesn't want you to be someone who ever has to go through things that require you to build a thick skin. He doubts he will ever forgive himself if he were to see you beaten up by harsh words and constant criticism, all because of your association to him.

"I wanted to tell you how I felt but just the sheer terror of what you may have to go through, kept me from doing so," an unwanted shiver runs through his body when he recalls the moments where the fluttering in his chest would always be accompanied by a heavy sinking in his stomach. "It wasn't my choice to stress about these things but I couldn't help myself considering that associating with me had consequences."

Your face falls with each word that leaves his lips. 

"It was choosing between giving into my feelings and listening to logic. I tried to be logical and practical for as long as I could. Until, I just couldn't," a humourless chuckle escapes his lips. "I remember thinking that I just need to tell you how you make me feel."

He doesn't voice how there was a part of him that had wished you'd not reciprocate his feelings. That way, even after his sheer selfishness, things would be fine. 

"It was around the time I decided on confessing to you, that I learnt about the proposition from Niki's agency. Call me incredibly stupid but I thought if I did this, I'd at least do something instead of sitting and dreading with my hands tied." Jungkook shakes his head, finding it cruel that even after all this, he somehow managed to mess everything up. 

Your mouth parts unknowingly when the pieces click. Jungkook's decision to date Niki for the cameras, didn't come out of nowhere and it wasn't as far-fetched as you thought. His decision had come from a place of anxiety where he felt powerless. 

"But then I found that note," he cannot help but recall that day fondly. He felt like a kid and often found himself smiling, looking into the mirror. However, that joy was soon wiped off when the situation sank in. "I was so excited and happy, but then I realised that I had already agreed to date Niki."

You hardly blink as Jungkook speaks and due to that, you don't miss the way a smile appears on his lips. But it's gone as soon as it appears, as if he catches himself slipping and reprimands himself for it. It makes you consider the possibility if he was receptive to your confession in a positive way. 

"I didn't know what to do, I couldn't imagine letting you know that I felt the same but then going out and holding another woman's hand. Even if it's for the cameras, it's–," he closes his eyes shut as if pained, "–it's horrible."

"I couldn't do that but I also needed to make a quick decision. I thought the only way to go about things was to postpone answering your confession. After the announcement of the breakup with Niki, I thought I could talk to you then and clear things out. At that moment, that was the only option that made sense to me."

His words take you back to the day when you were filled with nervous excitement only for it to be replaced with dread and heartbreak when you learnt that Jungkook had replaced you as his makeup artist, just like that. 

"It was stupid, I know," he mutters in a small voice. "I don't have anything to say in my defence except for admitting that I messed things up and I didn't realise what it must have looked like to you, until it was too late." 

He paused for a few moments, looking exhausted. "I-I am sorry for everything. I know it's hard to believe but hurting you was the last thing I wanted to do. I really just wanted to make things right. If you can, please, forgive me."

You sense that to be the end of everything Jungkook had to say. The way he looks at the floor and refuses to look at you, makes you want to comfort him. But your feelings are too muddled, you're too confused and there's a lot that you have learnt that has left you surprised. You don't think you're in the state of mind to make decisions now. 

"Thank you for telling me everything," you keep your voice soft. It gives Jungkook the courage to finally look up at you and his breath hitches when he realises you aren't looking at him with your gaze filled with hate and pain. It gives him hope. "But I need some time to process everything." 

Jungkook nods, knowing that's the best he can ask for at the moment. He's relieved that you aren't dismissing his words and feels incredibly grateful that you are taking time to think things through. He knows that you taking time is more for yourself than for him, but there's a hint of a promise that this is not the end of the conversation, that you'll talk to him again. And that's more than anything Jungkook can ever ask for.

—-----------------------------------------------------

The last few days, your mind has been completely occupied with Jungkook's words. Not only his words but also the way he looked refuses to leave your mind. You couldn't find it in yourself to doubt his genuineness and the fact that he was feeling terrible, was displayed in green neon lights. 

You had to remind yourself repeatedly that it isn't only about how he feels. You should cater to your feelings and figure out what to do next. 

There was also the new revelation that Jungkook liked you. Quite honestly, you didn't know what to do with that information. The whole conversation was melancholic and it must have rubbed off on you for you didn't feel the joy one usually does on learning that their crush likes them back. 

Everything was quite confusing. So much so, that it had taken an entirety of five days for you to sort out your thoughts and approach Jungkook. 

He sits across from you in a pale blue shirt and black trousers, his body language screams that he's nervous and oddly enough it comforts you to know that you aren't the only one feeling that way. 

"After learning everything, I couldn't help but wish you had communicated before. It would have saved the both of us a lot of hurt," you begin with a sombre tone, feeling your heart hurt at the constant overthinking you have had to go through. "Things might have been simpler that way." 

"I know," Jungkook nods, not having a single word to defend himself with. 

You look at him a moment longer wondering if he would try providing  you with a reason for his lack of communication. When he doesn't, you're confused how you're supposed to perceive it. 

On one hand, you'd have liked for him to actually have a proper reason. On the other, you're sure Jungkook is aware of his mistakes and his lack of response somehow gives the impression that he's owning up to everything without making excuses. 

"But what's done is done and there's no changing it," you continue after a small sigh. "It's for the best that we move on from it."

Jungkook's heart shrinks. By moving on do you mean just never acknowledging the feelings you both share for each other? That's exactly what comes to his mind because you feeling the same way you did, despite the hurt he has caused you, sounds too good to be true. He cannot be shameless either to ask you about it directly. He will take whatever you will give him. 

Instead, he asks a question which he knows would eat him alive if he doesn't voice it. "Can you forgive me?" 

"I wouldn't have asked for the both of us to move on, if I hadn't already," and then you do something that makes Jungkook feel like a ton of bricks have been lifted off from his chest. You smile at him.

Forgiving Jungkook wasn't easy. You wanted to hold on to the anger because your pride was hurt and most importantly, you were scared of getting hurt again. But then you also had to think through things logically. 

Jungkook has never had it easy with fame. Nothing could have ever prepared him for the way he has always been under scrutiny and his sudden loss of control over his own life. With time, he learnt that it was for the best to not pay attention to the people who weren't even familiar with him. 

He could overlook and turn deaf to the hate that's thrown his way. However, his loved ones being targeted is something that fills him with guilt to an inexplicable amount. You have seen it yourself. 

The incident isn't that old. A year back, Jungkook had gone out with a bunch of his childhood friends. He was pictured closing the car door for one of them, who so happened to be a girl. That one single shot was enough for the media and internet to decide there must be something more than platonic going between the two. 

You remember the way Jungkook was so troubled and absolutely heartbroken with the hate and threats that were aimed at his friend, for something so simple and it was visible to everyone that he blamed himself for it.

You cannot imagine what kind of stones would be thrown at you if word got out. The information that you're his makeup artist would be a cherry on top. Gold digger, witch, slut, whore; some of the less colourful terms. 

Seeing the way Jungkook suffered, it made sense why he would be so scared to be open about his feelings. You could imagine yourself feeling the same way had it been you being in his place. Seeing someone you care for, getting hate that they absolutely don't deserve, is painful enough for one to believe that it's for the best to keep distance. 

You also imagined what you would have felt had Jungkook admitted his feelings and had told you about the fake dating. Yes, you'd have the knowledge that there was nothing real between him and Niki. However, you'd also have to see them all over the internet and watch people go on and on about how perfect they are. You'd be aware that Jungkook likes you, but you'd also be bitter about how the beginning of your relationship is marked with him publicly dating someone else. It's not exactly a nice feeling. 

One could argue that the way events have turned out, they aren't perfect either. But there's nothing going on between Jungkook and you. At least, not yet. 

That's one thing that you both need to talk about and you really want to clear out everything, at once. Who knows what miscommunication would occur if things were left unsaid, again? 

"I would never intentionally hurt you, Y/N,"Jungkook squirms a little in his seat, ignoring the absence of the weight that has been eating him alive for days. He thinks you're going easy on him and he thinks he doesn't deserve it. 

"I am choosing to trust your words," you reply, having a sense of the turmoil Jungkook seems to be going through. The fact that he is always hard on himself is not unknown to you. "All I ask from you is to not break my trust. And for you to accept that you do not have to burden yourself with responsibilities."

Jungkook knows it's hard for him to not feel like there's always a bunch of responsibilities on his shoulder. Especially when one moment of misjudgement can cause irreversible damage. Despite that, he feels a sense of warmth spread throughout his body at your words. 

"I'll try."

You shoot Jungkook another smile; the second one this evening and he can't help but think that you should really stop giving him hope.

"There's one more thing that we need to talk about," your cheeks turn red and much like Jungkook earlier, it's your turn to squirm in your seat. "You said something about liking me."

You feel awkward at the choice of your words but then you aren't brave enough to start by mentioning your note of confession. 

Jungkook's eyes turn as wide as saucers and his whole face flushes to match the shade of your cheeks. He really wasn't expecting for you to bring it up. "Umm yeah," he nods. 

You feel a spark of impatience and annoyance at his short response. You took it upon yourself to bring the topic to the table and he cannot just spill everything, already? Why make it more difficult for you? 

"Yeah…..so?" You look at him with your brows raised, trying your best to ignore the way you feel like a three year old shy girl, on the inside. 

"I–I do like you," he stutters and looks away, for the umpteenth time, unable to meet your eyes. 

Your heart takes a fucking long jump. Who would have thought Jeon Jungkook would be so shy about admitting his feelings? 

"What should we do about it?" You intentionally use the 'we' for Jungkook to catch the hint that you want to do something about it. 

But of course, he doesn't. 

He speaks sullenly, "I have lost the right to have a say in the matter." 

"I want you to have a say in the matter. Tell me, Jungkook, what do you want?" You refuse to let go of the conversation and for Jungkook to let his guilt swallow him. He messed up, there's no denying that. But you could always acknowledge the fact that his heart was in the right place. 

Feelings of frustration makes his throat clogged up . "I just want to go back and redo things in a different way."

"That's not possible. What do you want to do now?"

He knows what he wants but voicing it, feels being ungrateful towards your forgiveness. It feels like he's being greedy. "What I do want, feels like too much to ask for."

"You'll never know until you ask for it." 

He sighs and reminds himself that you're asking him about the romantic feelings he has admitted to harbouring towards you. He reminds himself to not be selfish and make it about his guilt. If you want to know, he will tell you and he will be honest about it. 

"I want to be with you," his admission is made in a small voice but it doesn't hide the clarity his words have. 

Your breath hitches and you feel the soft pitter patter of your heart that you had missed when he admitted his feelings for you the first time around. 

"When does this fake relationship of yours end?" 

"A month from now."

You nod. "A month from now, take me out on a date and we will see."

Jungkook's eyes snap to yours, not having expected you to speak those words. You shoot him a small smile before getting up and leaving the room. 

—-----------------------------------------------------

SIX MONTHS LATER

"I swear to god, if you don't stay still, I'll intentionally ruin your makeup."

Your threatening low tone goes in through one ear and comes out of the other. "You could never do that."

"Don't test my limits."

A pout makes its appearance. "But that's my favourite thing to do."

You sigh in both astonishment and in love. 

How do you manage to repeat the same routine with the same man everyday and never get tired of it? Maybe it has everything to do with the way your heart keeps stuttering around this man.

No, the man sitting in front of you, is not the global superstar Jeon Jungkook. 

The man sitting in front of you is your boyfriend, Jungkook. 

The official tag on your relationship was put four months ago, after a month of going out on dates. When you say going out, you mean staying in the hybe building and arranging dates in as innovative a way as one can. 

The month in which Jungkook had to pretend to be Nikki's boyfriend only proved to you why it would have been difficult for you had you and Jungkook actually been a thing at the time. It was already painful and as petty and irrational as it may sound, it also made you jealous when you would see articles of the two of them. You're not quite sure how humilated you would have felt if you two were to be dating at the time and to see people comment on how they are a match made in heaven.

That one month, for Jungkook, was a mix of everything. The beginning of the month came with constant doubts and shame where he wondered what he should do when the month is up. He wanted you but he didn't really think he deserved you. But then he had to make up his mind; he made a mistake and he always acknowledged that but it would be so incredibly foolish if he were to let that stop him from being with you. After a week or so, he had made up his mind. He messed up, but boy if he wasn't going to make up for it.  

That whole month was spent with him brainstorming ideas on how he can show his sincerity and be a better man. Somewhere along the line, he had opened up to Niki about it and there's just a hundred percent chance that if he's smiling wide in one of those paparazzi pictures, he's talking about you.

Jungkook has been nothing but the best boyfriend you could have ever asked for. Any hurt or doubt was washed away soon after the both of you started going out. Being with Jungkook was so much more than you could have ever imagined. 

A month after being together, you were back as Jungkook's make-up artist. It was the best way to go about it as it would keep the both of you away from suspicious eyes and give the both of you ample amount of time to spend with each other. 

You both are aware that at some point, you'd have to inform the agency of the nature of your relationship as that'd be better than them finding it out from other sources. You're not quite sure what would be left of your job, but Jungkook seems quite sure that you won't be fired and that the members together, would somehow manage the higher authorities to make their rules more flexible. 

Jungkook isn't worried about the consequences with hybe, but he still finds himself stressing about the day the news becomes public. That is where you reassure him, that whatever happens, you both will get through it, together. You also remind him to not fret about it too much, because there's a long way to go before things are made public. For the time being, it's just the two of you. 

"No wait, that's actually my second favourite thing," Jungkook corrects himself. "My top favourite might just be kissing you."

You fight the blush trying to make an appearance and ask, "might?"

"The last time you kissed me was ten minutes ago. Forgive me for forgetting what it was like to be kissed by you."

As cute and adorable as Jeon Jungkook might be in front of the cameras, you have recently learned that he's just as sly and playful when he wants to be. 

"Will you stay still if I kiss you?" 

"Kiss me first and then you shall have your answer." 

So you do. 

Your soft lips are welcomed eagerly by his and they move against each other, tenderly without a hint of rush. Your breaths mingle and soft sighs escape as your hands get tangled in his hair. 

When you part, there's only a hair's gap between the two of you, "So what's the verdict?" 

Jungkook's doe eyes appear dazed as he looks at you. "Well my brain has turned into a mush, so you can totally expect me to stay still."

You giggle and the sound of it warms Jungkook's heart like nothing ever has. 

------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: i was so anxious about making this so long especially the Taehyung part but then the Taehyung part is something that happened to me irl, so i also just wanted it to be as real as possible. For Jimin, it just didn't feel right for the reader to agree to go out or be with Jimin without him earning it. But then, it also didn't quite fit in this reaction thing, if that makes sense? If y'all want some good ol' grovelling from this Jimin in a one-shot i will see what I can come up with 😉.

That being said, let me know what you thought of this! (This really was a lot of work, so your words would be greatest source of encouragement and achievement for me). Also, if you like my work and wish to have access to all my works before anyone else, here's my patreon!

Hope you enjoyed reading this!

[adventuringblind]

I didn't know if you take requests but I have been thinking about this for a while. You are Scotty James younger sister and you meet Daniel while they are hanging out and you both like eachother and him and Chloe set you up. At first Scotty didn't agree but Chloe showed him that both of them are actually in love. I'm kinda seeing this with something with age gap, about 8 years (sorry if the grammar is not right, English is not my first language and I'm very tired because of school and stuff)

Atermoiememts

Genre: Fluff, Spice

Summary: Daniel is pining after his best friends younger sister. Drunken confessions lead to a black eye.

Warnings: drinking, sexual innuendo, and references, alluded to smut, Scotty throws hands

Notes: Sorry I haven't posted in a few days! I've been working on my master list, and I've had work and school to attend to. I can't believe I posted first daily since mid-July, and now I've finally slowed down. I'm so sorry for requests taking longer!!

Masterlist

Scotty James. Professional Snowboarder and protective older brother. Well, protective isn't the word he would use. Maybe loving? A wall between his sister and men who have poor intentions?

Chloe loves his sister. She is great friends with Lance. She gets along great with Daniel, his best friend, maybe better then he would like at times, but it's whatever.

She's the one who drags Scotty to more then half of the F1 races. Given he has time. She's obsessed.

Yet, Scotty can't help but think it's because of somebody specific on the grid. He's yet to figure out who. Max? Charles? She gets along with them well enough.

She spends to much time clinging to Daniel that it is probably scaring away the boys she actually likes! Not that Daniel is intimidating or anything. The guys smile is infectious. But it probably doesn't help her at all with getting the attention of the drivers her age.

~~~~~

Y/N James. Professional F1 enthusiasts. Sister to Scotty James. Annoying younger siblings to him but shy to everybody else.

She would like to add girlfriend of Daniel Ricciardo in there somewhere, but the backlash from her brother keeps her from saying anything. Plus, she's probably to young for him. A nine year age gap maybe isn't his thing. But he could help her out a but and stop flirting with her.

She knows it's teasing. It's sarcastic like with all of his friends. It's not like she's special or anything.

Her reason for wallowing in her thoughts? Chloe had just made her a third drink. The two are sitting on the couch in her and Scotty’s hotel room post qualifying. Daniel had a good session, so him and Scotty are out having mocktails.

"I see the way you look at him." Chloe wiggles her eyebrows suggestivley. Her legs are crossed on the sofa and she continues to take small sips of whatever she's drinking.

"And how would that be?"

"Like you love him."

The younger James eyes her suspiciously. How could have possibly outed her by just watching? Is she really that obvious?

"So what if I do? Not like anything is gonna happen." She shrugs.

"But he likes you too? I see it. His flirting is different with you."

"What? That fact he can and will describe in detail what he would do to me?"

"Don't lie!" Chloe shouts and playfully hits the younger on the shoulder. "You totally like it."

She can feel her face heating up but the alcohol has made her filter disappear.

"He really could do whatever to me. I'd let him."

"What if he wants you to call him daddy?" Chloe starts cracking up laughing.

"... I would."

~~~~~

Daniel Ricciardo. Formula 1 driver. Lover of Texas. The honey badger himself. Cannot for the life of him fix this stupid crush on Scotty’s younger sister.

He personally doesn't care about what the media has to say. But he does care about her and the backlash she would get. He'd hate to see her hurt just because he couldn't keep his feelings to himself.

And it really doesn't help that Chloe has been trying to get them together for weeks now. Months even. It's driving him insane. How is he supposed to keep up his playful flirting at this rate?

She's been shoving them onto awkward scenarios and leaving them alone together (much to Scotty’s dismay). Scotty picked up on something after the fifth encounter like that.

"Do you even like her like that?" He'd said while that ate dinner. It was just the two of them and Chloe.

"He definitely does!"

"I really don't want to talk about it anymore."

"Chloe, my sister would be into guys her age."

"And if her and Daniel did get together?"

"Then I owe you a date for being right and I'd punch Daniel."

The conversation left Daniel feeling both relieved and terrified. Scotty had made a valuable point, though. She's around the same age as Max and Charles. Two good-looking and kind men who he trusts. It wouldn't shock him if she went after one of them instead.

But if that's the case, why has she spent the entire night dancing with him? The music is blaring, and their cheeks are pink from the alcohol. Yet the feeling of her hips up against hasn't left since they got here.

His impulse control is lacking, and he doesn't know he's doing it until after. Doesn't know what he's implied or how she'll respond.

"Do you wanna get out of here?"

He mentally slaps himself for asking such a thing, but it's too late now. He can't take it back.

"That sounds nice."

And oh, how he melts. Her smile is his everything. Though with her reply, his is definitely bigger.

Daniel drags her back to his hotel room. Is a flurry of pent of emotions. Hands and lips explore to the point where their driver is probably annoyed.

In the hotel room isn't any better and they are both definitely under the influence.

"Maybe we shouldn't-"

"When was your last drink?"

Daniel thinks back. Already straddled over the top "two hours ago I think?"

"Same, i stopped when you did. So please don't think to hard about this. If I only get to do this once then I want to enjoy every damn second of it."

Something between love, adoration, and confusion passes through him. "What do you mean by that?"

"This is a one night stand, no?"

"It doesn't have to be."

"Not sure my brother would like me having a friends with benefits type of deal with his best friend." Her eyebrow quirks up in the lamplight.

"Fuck that's - that's not what I mean." Curse his lack of filter for heat he's about to say. "I love you. I have for so long but I didn't want to say anything."

She freezes, likely due to the shock of the statement. "I love you too, also for awhile now."

Yeah - every ounce of restraint he had before is gone. Clothes are shed in record time. He doesn't hold not one damj thing back.

"Let me show you how much I adore you."

~~~~~

To say Scotty is staring at Chloe is an understatement. He's glaring at her. "I've been played."

"Do you wanna go punch him now?"

It's eight in the morning and Scotty is throwing off the covers and marching to the door of their room. Sharing a wall with Daniel definitely wasn't the best idea.

He knocks aggressively. "Daniel! Open up!"

There's a bit of shuffling then the door swings open to reveal a sleepy eyed Australian. His eyes get wide when he realizes who it is.

"Look Daniel, I know you'll take good care of her. You're a good friend and a better boyfriend. But I swear to you if you ever hurt her I will not hesitate to knock your teeth out."

Daniel's shoulders sag in relief. His body relaxs. His sister standing in the entry way also does.

Then scotty swings.

But hey! If one black eye is all it takes to convince Scotty not to stalk Daniel's every step to protect his sister, then he'll take it.

[nastasya--filippovna]

WHO IS CROWLEY AFTER THE FALL?

so there is a LOT of debate over who Crowley was before The Fall. I have seen a lot of headcanons going around the place saying he was Raphael or Kokabiel or Baraqiel.

I mean this is the Exhibit A for saying that Crowley is Baraqiel. I think NOT.

Because this is a handbook written by demons for demons. The title is literally (if my memory serves me right) a guide to angelic beings that walk the earth. SO Crowley is not That..

Other than the red hair thing, no other physical characteristic matches. This Baraqiel guy sounds like an absolute gremlin. grisly slug, occasionally damp. NOT CROWLEY. I mean she's the most dashing thing around.

NO. #3 It says CROWLEY one line above the name Baraqiel. If Crowley is Baraqiel then why would his demon name appear right under that?????

And I think somewhere Neil Gaiman refuted this theory (I'm not really sure but I think so plz don't come at me with pitchforks if I got it wrong). So.......

But this is all beside the point. What I'm trying to say is that too much has been said about who Crowley was before he fell. There is very little, if not none, that has been said about who he was After.

Some say that he's an insignificant demon or some loser guy in Hell or whatever the equivalent of an angel principality deputy on Earth is.

I BEG TO DIFFER.

He is Important. Just look at the kind of assignments he's given. Original Sin, Major Historical Temptations and Evil Acts, Delivering the Antichrist and bringing about Armageddidn't.

But who is he exactly??????????

So canonically we're never told what Crowley's rank in Hell is. But there are more that enough hints for us to figure that out for ourselves.

But where does one place him when the hierarchy is so complex and varying across different historical and theological sources.

Such as here:

I have been thinking about this and I have two current theories

Crowley is Astaroth

Crowley is The Leviathan

I'll discuss only one in this post. I'll save the other for the next post.

Now book!Omens clearly tells us that Crowley or Crawley is not his real demonic name. For those who haven't read the book this happens when Hastur Lavista and Ligur come to hand over the antichrist to Crowley in the churchyard and as he's about to sign his name as "Crowley" they tell him to sign his real demonic name.

Are you with me?!!!!!

NANNY ASHTORETH!

Why did she use this particular name for her nanny disguise. What if...... what if this IS her real demon name.

A lot of my real life friends are annoyed beyond measure by my constant ranting about etymologies, origin and construction of discourse and epistemology, especially when it comes to presenting my thesis over how all Abrahamic religions and their symbology and iconography is, how do I put it, inspired from pagan religions that they expunged. I mean the concept of angles, the man shaped being with wings that is actually just a ball of fire or eyes or hale discs or sth is a pagan Persian concept.

Back to the matter at hand.

Ashtoreth, Astaroth, Astarte, Ishtar, are all the same name in different dialects and languages. All of these refer to a certain Babylonian goddess. When the People of God probably cleansed off all the infidels they decided to literally demonize their god and name a demon after her. In Milton's Paradise Lost Astaroth is one of the three princes or Grand Dukes of Hell alongside Beelz and Lucifer. If this theory might be true Crowley is a Prince/Grand Duke of Hell.

Now this gets even more interesting. Ashtoreth, Astarte, whatever you may, is a goddess of fertility and is associated with childcare. I mean at this point I just stopped to marvel at the attention to detail that Mr. Gaiman's work hold, the smallest hidden meanings in the storytelling.

Another thing. The Babylonians built these temples called ziggurats to worship Astarte and they looked something like this

and this

they were also known as sky temples.

Because Astaroth was first and foremost the goddess of stars and the Babylonians were stargazers and the temples were constructed as a stairway to heaven to take them closer to the stars and functioned as an observatory at times.

I'm just imagining Crowley turning up in ancient Babylon and with her other-worldly looks, knowledge of the stars and compassion for children they just..... started to worship her.

Before the Christians came and declared them pagans and the rest is history.

Continued in next post for the second theory......

[theglamorousferal]

Persephone's Binding Part 7

Hardcover/Anger Management ship Sacrificial Bride au

AO3 Prompt Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

As he slid into the booth Jason was glad he had taken Danny's advice on wearing "Mid 2000's American chic". Clad in dark wash jeans, a red Henley shirt and his leather jacket he waited for Danny to come back with their order of "Nasty Burgers". He wasn't particularly excited about the name, but after sparring for four hours he was starving.

"One Double Nasty Burger with Nasty Fries and a chocolate milkshake for you and the rest is for me!" Danny returned to the table with his arms stretched longer than should be possible with four trays of food. He placed one in front of Jason and kept the others for himself. Jason raised an eyebrow at him. "What?"

"You sure you can eat all that?"

Danny smirked, grabbed a fist full of fries and declared "Watch me," and shoved his whole hand into his mouth in an almost cartoon logic sort of way.

Jason gaped for a moment before he chuckled to himself and picked up his burger. It looked like a regular burger, so he took a bite and - dammit it's delicious! He finished his bite and reached for the fries - eh, pretty mid.

"You were right about the burgers, this is delicious. However, once we figure out if or when we can contact my home dimension I am taking you to Batburger and your are gonna try the Jokerized fries." Jason finished his statement gesticulating with a fry before he popped it into his mouth.

"As long as your paying." Danny said, himself gesticulating with a fry. "I mean, flying around and doing ghostly shit is pretty taxing, so I'm always down for food, especially of the high calorie kind."

"Fair enough." They lapsed into a comfortable quiet for a while. Danny quickly worked his way through four Double Nasties, three large fries and two milkshakes.

Jason remembered something he had seen at the training grounds. "So I know we can't use projectiles on each other, but I noticed targets at the grounds. Any chance we can spend the afternoon practicing our aim?" Danny raised an eyebrow at him and Jason rolled his eyes. "Fine. Do you want to spend the afternoon trying to one-up each other?"

"Sounds like a plan, dude." Danny took a long slurp of one of his milkshakes. "So, what do you think of my sister?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

Jason startled at the shift in topic and blinked. Am I about to get a shovel talk? I should probably be serious then. "I think she is very kind and genuine in her care of things. I think she's acting as Atlas and I think it's been that way for longer than she's been Regent. I think she probably should take one if not multiple days off." He brushed the salt from his fingers onto his jeans and licked his lips before speaking again. "I haven't really been able to have a real conversation with her yet. Mostly we've kinda just given each other a summary of our lives and a brief discussion about books after our discussion in the library last night. I've interacted with you more than I have her, but from what I've seen of both of you so far, I'm impressed."

Danny looked at him, his green eyes intense, as if scrutinizing his very soul. He very well might be doing that actually. Jason did not flinch at the inspection, everything he had said was genuine.

"Hmm." Danny took a loud slurp, finishing off that milkshake. He set it aside and grabbed the other. "Do you find her attractive?"

Jason did not waver as he responded. "Just because I do doesn't mean anything without her approval." Danny narrowed his eyes further and took a sip so long Jason wondered if he had to breathe.

Jason sighed. "Fine, I may try and make myself a bit more aesthetically pleasing to her to try and catch her attention besides that I am a person in need and would gladly take pointers if you aren't completely against me attempting to woo her."

Danny smirked. "I knew it! Ha, take that Johnny!" He whipped out a clunky looking device and sent off a message in a group chat. He then leveled Jason with a look. "K, so, I may be new to the whole 'reading souls' thing, but when I took a look as you were talking nothing looked off and I've enjoyed hanging out with you so far today so I'm going to help you." As Jason perked up, Danny held out a hand. "I'm just gonna say this right now; I am not a miracle worker. I'm going off of evidence from past crushes and boyfriends here and it's been years since her last one. She's been a bit too busy for romance with all the training and then everything that happened.

"Anyway, you're on the right track with the biker aesthetic if this is more like your every day clothes. If you had a bike to go with it then we can likely get your foot in the door. I mean, you've already got a leg up on her last boyfriend with talking to her about books." Danny paused in eating his fries. "You know what? Let's rain check on the target practice, I'm gonna take you someplace we can get you a ride. We'll kill three birds with one stone, you get more of the biker aesthetic, maybe you can get Jazz to go on a ride with you, and you can move around the Zone without needing one of us to guide you!" Danny shot off another message to his group chat and then promptly finished off the last of his fries. "Come on, let's head over!"

Jason gathered all the trash and dumped it away as he followed Danny out of the restaurant. Danny grabbed Jason by the shoulders and flew off from Amity and towards a segment of floating land that looked like a winding road.

"It's gonna take a bit to get there at normal person speeds. Mind if I speed this up a bit?" Danny looked down at Jason.

"Go for it, I'm used to flying with the Supers and they can move at light speed."

Danny looked at him shocked for a moment. "Man, your dimension sounds so cool!" At the last word Danny's entire being seemed to flicker brighter and the freckles on his face spun around and were shaped like stars. He cleared his throat, embarrassed for a moment. "I can't go nearly that fast, but my top speed should get us there in five instead of thirty minutes." With that he took off.

Soon enough, Jason saw quickly approaching what appeared to be a brownstone not unlike those from any major US city with an apartment above two businesses. A garage and a stylist's from the look of it. Standing in front of the place was a couple, a blonde and very pale man in a mechanic's jumpsuit covered in various stains, and a very pale woman with green hair and bright red leather jacket and skirt.

"Hey Phantom, so this is the poor schmuck?" The blonde asked after Danny placed Jason back on his feet.

"Hey Johnny, yeah, this is Jason. Poor guy got sacrificed to Jazz of all people." Danny replied with all the air of a younger sibling. "Anyway, I'm pretty sure he left his bike in his home dimension, mind hooking him up with a ride? I don't want to have to carry him everywhere and I doubt a ghostly horse is gonna do it for him." He stuck his thumb out, pointing at Jason behind him.

Johnny seemed to be sizing him up, his arms crossed before he eventually nodded. "Fine, but it's going on your bill." He turned to head into his shop. "See ya later Kitty, I got a big project apparently." He kissed the woman before he walked into the garage.

Jason made to follow, but Kitty stopped him. "If you ever need some styling you come to me okay kid? And if you make the Queen cry, I can make men vanish with a kiss." She patted him on the shoulder before sauntering back into her shop.

"Yeah, Kitty got close with Jazz after a fight she had with Johnny one time. It's kind of weird because when Jazz was dating Johnny, he was trying to get it so Kitty could possess her to exist in the Living Realm. It was a whole thing, but it's behind us at this point." Jason blinked at Danny's back as he floated his way into the garage. Okay then, just casually drop horrifying lore why don't you? Jason followed him inside.

Danny was floating over Johnny's shoulder as the man was drawing up basic schematics.

"Standard Court specs?" Johnny asked the floating High Prince.

"For liminal humans for now yeah. We haven't had the chance to bring him to get a full scan done to find his classification yet."

"Hmm. Okay, hey Sacrifice, get over here, do you like low riding or tight riding?" Jason joined them at the table and they spent the next few hours planning out Jason's ecto-bike. "Looks good, it's gonna take me a bit, but I can get it to you in a week, two tops if I can't get one of the parts. I'll hold off on the engine until we know what your classification is, if you produce your own ecto then we'll need a sample for it." At Jason's hesitation he continued. "It just means that it'll be more self-sustaining and you can summon it to your will. It'll lock-on to your ecto-signature."

"Cool, do you think it'd work in my home dimension? Or will I have to leave this beauty here if or when I leave?"

"Possibly? I mean, at the very least you are death-touched and that kinda manifests ectoplasm in universes. It depends on how much ambient ecto there is around. It doesn't run on gas, it runs on ectoplasm." Danny butted in. "Either way, it'll be good to have here, and who knows, if you have to leave it, maybe you can still come visit?"

"Yeah kid, I'd like that." Jason replied.

Danny smiled. "Cool, well, we gotta head back for dinner. Lunch Lady is making baked Mac and Cheese tonight and I am not missing getting the corner servings."

"See ya around Johnny! Thanks for this by the way."

Johnny waved him off. "Eh it's no big deal, I make all the rides of the Royal Family. You being sacrificed means you're probably bound to this craziness for eternity." Johnny looked at him seriously for a moment. "Do better for her than I did, K? I know that won't take much, but she's been through Hell and back and she deserves someone to take care of her for once."

Jason nodded back, determination set on his face. "If she lets me, I will."

[punkshort]

Chapter warnings: smut (m masturbation), language

Chapter Three

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, pre-outbreak and post outbreak

AU (the only thing I kept was the outbreak, Joel, and Tommy's characters. Joel's backstory is different, and the way he finds Jackson is different. I may include Ellie one day, I just haven't planned that far)

Fic Summary: You worked for Joel and Tommy a few months before the outbreak. The outbreak happens, and you and Joel get stuck traveling the country and keeping each other safe. Neither of you spoke about the feelings you had for one another pre-outbreak, and in a post-apocalyptic world, it seems like survival should be your only focus. But feelings can't be ignored forever.

Fic tags: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Smut, Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, Age Difference (Reader is 10 years younger than Joel), slow burn, mutual pining, angst, trauma, SA referencing later but I will put a big warning on those chapters

You were nervous about the office dynamic once you broke up with Justin. That following Monday, you walked into the department and risked a glance over to his desk. He was hunched over his keyboard, burying himself in some report, looking mildly panicked. You frowned as you made your way to your chair and slunk down, punching in your password while you waited for your computer to boot up.

Colleen popped up quietly behind you.

"Sooooo? How was camping?” she whispered with a huge grin on her face. "Tell me all the details!”

She propped herself against the edge of your desk, trying not to draw Justin’s attention.

“I broke up with him,” you whispered back, eyes wide. You needed to tell someone, your nerves were on fire. You knew you shouldn’t have told the queen of gossip, but people would have figured it out soon enough. Colleen’s jaw dropped.

"What?! Why?” she whispered back, but louder than the first time. You put a finger up to your lips, indicating she was being too loud.

"I don’t know, I just don’t feel the same way he does. He’s a sweet guy, but there’s no spark. I didn’t want to lead him on,” you told her, and turned back to your computer, opening your email program.

“Well, your timing couldn’t have been more perfect. I don’t think he’s got the time to be upset over it. He came in this morning to an email from Joel, with Heather cc’d, wanting a full breakdown on the 401K contributions for the past 6 months. Apparently, he caught some discrepancy, and he wants answers first thing this morning,” she said, raising her head a few inches to glance over the top of your cubical wall in his direction. “He must be shitting his pants; Joel never contacts any of us directly. I don’t think he even knows most of our names.”

You felt guilty as relief flooded through you. At least there was a distraction from the elephant in the room.

About an hour later, Heather came to collect Justin. He followed her out of the room with a folder tucked under his arm and nervously running a hand through his hair. As he walked by your desk, he gave you a tight-lipped smile, which you returned. At least he wasn’t the type of guy to be an asshole about being dumped.

It had been three hours since Justin and Heather left for their meeting. At this point, his absence was painfully obvious to the whole room, and everybody had given up on trying to be discreet.

The whole department had rolled their desk chairs out to the openings of their respective cubes so they could all see one another as they gossiped and speculated wildly. All except for you. You tried your best to stay out of it, but you kept overhearing everyone’s chatter, and it was incredibly distracting.

“They couldn’t possibly still be talking about a minor discrepancy, could they?” one person asked.

“No way, something happened by now. Oh my God, what if he was stealing from our 401Ks? I read a newspaper article about someone doing that last week!”

“Oh come on, Justin wouldn’t do that,” Colleen chimed in. “I bet they finished up their meeting a long time ago, and he and Heather are in her office doing a deeper dive into the numbers together.”

Everyone went quiet for half a second when the electronic beeping of the door keypad caught the attention of the room. Chairs were hurriedly being pushed back up against desks, and fingers furiously typed, trying to log back into computers that had been long asleep during the gossip.

Heather walked into the hushed room with an empty banker’s box in her hands and headed straight for Justin’s desk. She set it down on his chair and turned to address the room openly.

"Hey guys, I’m sorry I didn’t have the time to call a formal meeting, but I wanted to tell you all personally before the email from HR comes out... Justin quit this morning.” She paused when a couple of people quietly gasped and exchanged looks. “Now I know we are going to have some big shoes to fill, I may call upon some of you to help and do some overtime until we can find a suitable candidate to take his position. As always, if any of you want to recommend anyone you know, my door is always open. But for now, we will just have to make do. Does anyone have any questions? You know I like to be transparent with you.”

Heather glanced around the room of stunned faces. Everyone was wondering the same question, but nobody had the nerve to ask it, until Debbie spoke up from behind you.

"Why did he quit? Was it Joel?” She was standing outside her cube, frowning with her arms crossed, no doubt feeling some residual anger from when Cheryl quit just a few short months ago. Your boss sighed, and slowly nodded.

"Yes. Well, yes and no. Joel really grilled him in that meeting this morning, it went a full hour. I did everything I could to take some of the heat, but Joel was just dialed in on Justin today, I don’t know what got into him. He had a million questions, one after another, and it eventually got to a point where he was outright questioning Justin’s job performance and skillset. It finally got to be too much for him, and Justin announced he was quitting.” Heather paused for a moment and looked around the room at the team. She turned and pulled Justin’s chair from his desk, moving the empty box to the floor. She sat down, looking as if she was exhausted from just recounting the events from the meeting. She rubbed her pointer and middle fingers against her temples for a moment, and then continued.

“Joel didn’t say anything wrong; this is his company, and he has every right to ask those questions… he just has such a harsh way of addressing things. It is a lot to handle. I managed to grab Justin at the elevators and took him back to my office for a while. I tried to convince him to stay but he just wouldn’t hear it, he had his mind made up. I’m sorry guys, I really tried. I know this will put a burden on some of you, I will do my best to fill the position as soon as I can.”

The keypad that operated the door started chiming, and in walked Mike from the mailroom. He had his head down, looking at the pile of mail in his cart, bopping along to the music feeding through his CD player and into his headphones, oblivious to the awkwardness in the room. He stopped at your desk like usual and dropped a big stack of envelopes in your inbox, gave you a quick smile, and turned to leave.

Heather quietly began filling the box with Justin’s personal effects, looking like she desperately needed a cigarette or a coffee break. Or both.

You exchanged a quick glance with Colleen, one that said ‘we are definitely going to talk more about this when she leaves’. Then you noticed the envelope at the very top of your mail pile: Sullivan Agency, LLC.

Your heart thudded in your chest. It was a strange feeling – your body was waging a war within you: relief vs fear. Relief that you didn’t have to pay Mr. Sullivan’s balance out of your paycheck, but fear that you would now have to go to Joel’s office as he requested and tell him about the check.

You shakily opened the envelope and sure enough, as promised, was a check for the full balance due on his account.

You stood up, feeling slightly lightheaded as you made your way over to Heather. She jumped slightly when you quietly said her name.

"I just got the check from Mr. Sullivan. What should I do? Should I just email Joel and tell him it came, or do we really have to go to his office?”

You prayed she would tell you to just email him, but unfortunately, she said “We should tell him in person, I don’t want to make him even more mad.” She stopped organizing Justin’s picture frames and buried her face in her hands for a moment, trying to collect herself. She raised her head up, clasped her hands in front of her mouth in thought, then turned in the chair towards you.

“I really hate to ask you this… do you mind going up to his office by yourself? He’s had enough of me today, and quite frankly I’ve had enough of him, too. He seemed to take a liking to you, it won’t be that bad, it'll be quick.”

She looked at you hopefully, desperately, eyes begging, but followed up with “If you are really uncomfortable, I can go with you, it’s just...” her gaze drifted back to Justin’s desk, and the enormity of just how much work this put on her plate was likely hitting home. Updating a job description, meeting with HR, creating the job posting, screening applicants… the list went on.

You shook your head, always the people pleaser you said, “I got it, don’t worry, I will go up there right now and just get it over with."

You gave her a small smile as relief flooded her face. Heather asked if you were sure, and you promised her you were. Before your resolve broke, you turned on your heel and left, heading towards the elevator. 

The moment the elevator opened and you stepped out onto the 10th floor, your heart lept into your throat. The nerves were finally catching up with you. You looked up and saw a small desk situated between two closed doors. Behind the desk sat a kindly looking older woman. She had hair so grey that it looked almost blue, and it was woven on top of her head into a conical shape. She looked up at you through her plastic pink framed glasses, which were adorned with a chain that wrapped around the back of her neck so she wouldn’t lose them. She smiled at you warmly, her bright pink lipstick somewhat smudged on her front tooth and beckoned you over. Your eyes flicked to her name plate - Ruby Potter - as you returned her smile and walked over.

“Hi there, dear, who are you here to see?”

“I’m here to see Mr. Miller," you said without thinking. Ruby chuckled.

"Dear, they are both ‘Mr. Miller’. Which one?”

"J-Joel, I’m here to see Joel. I have a check for him," you stuttered, your cheeks warming from embarrassment.

She picked up her phone and punched one of the buttons on her speed dial, lazily lifting the headset to her ear.

"You have an accountant here to see you,” she said. She had forgotten to ask your name. You tried to mouth it to her, but she waved you away, as if she did this all the time. You couldn’t hear the words on the other end of the phone, but you could hear the tone – it was sharp and aggravated. Ruby seemed unphased. Once the other end of the line went silent, Ruby said “So do you want me to send her in, or not?” She nodded with whatever Joel said in response and hung up the phone.

“Go right on in, dear. His office is that one.” She languidly pointed to her right, your left, and then turned her attention back to her computer. You took a moment to appreciate the elderly woman’s ease. She clearly dealt with Joel’s wrath countless times, yet she was completely collected. In fact, she sat before you, well past her retirement years, working directly for the man himself without a care in the world.

That gave you a small confidence boost. If Ruby could handle Joel, so could you. Afterall, it’s just words. You had a job to do, you did nothing wrong, you are here because he requested it. 

You approached Joel’s office door and gently gave it three quiet knocks. You waited until you heard his acknowledgement to enter. You twisted the doorknob, opened the door just enough so you could squeeze through, and shut it behind you.

Shit, maybe you should have left it cracked. Too late now.

Your eyes locked onto the back of his tall, broad frame as he stood facing away from you, one of his arms resting above his head against the window. He was overlooking the city through the floor length windows as he finished up a call on his cell phone.

You had no idea what he said on the phone, you were far more distracted with how large and strong his shoulders looked in his white button-down shirt. Your gaze slowly traveled down, taking in his dark grey dress pants and noticing how generously they hugged his backside. You only wished he had rolled his sleeves up to his elbows like before - you wanted to see his muscles twitching under that tanned skin again. You watched in a daze as he lifted his arm from the window and ran his long fingers through his dark curls, wrapping up the phone call.

Get it together, what is wrong with you??

He pushed a button on his cell and began speaking without even turning around.

"What do you need now? I already told you-“ Joel swiveled around to see you standing before him, eyes wide, nervously clutching the envelope in your hands from Mr. Sullivan. He stopped short when he realized you weren’t Heather, and his expression softened a fraction. You must have surprised him, because before he could catch himself, he was raking his eyes up and down your entire frame, sending a shiver up the back of your spine. You were grateful you happened to wear your most flattering light blue sundress today. You thought this morning when you put it on that it would give you the confidence to get through seeing Justin at work for the first time since your break up. You never thought you would need that confidence for this moment.

You meekly cleared your throat.

"I’m sorry, Mr. Miller. You wanted me to tell you when Mr. Sullivan’s check came…” you trailed off, your cheeks feeling warm under his intense gaze. You needed to look somewhere else. You glanced down at the now crumpled envelope in your hand and stretched out your arm to eagerly show him your prize. You were at least 10 feet away from him, barely inside his office at all. It looked ridiculous; he obviously couldn’t take it from you at this range.

He nodded, pursing his lips, and then showed mercy on you when he finally looked away to take the few short strides back to his desk chair. He sat down, glancing back up at you expectantly from across the room.

"Sit.” he ordered, motioning towards one of the two chairs placed in front of his desk.

You responded to his command quickly, and you thought you saw a twitch at the corner of his mouth, but it disappeared too fast for you to be sure.  You sat down in one of the chairs, shifting uncomfortably in your seat as you waited while he scrolled through his emails, looking bored. Looking down at the envelope in your hands, you gently fingered the edges in order to focus your energy somewhere. Why did he want you to sit? This should have been a quick conversation.

Joel cleared his throat, and keeping his eyes on the computer monitor, he began to unbutton the cuffs of his dress shirt. First the left sleeve, then the right, taking his time. He began to methodically roll his left sleeve up, up, up all the way to his elbow, before he leisurely did the same to the right sleeve. You didn’t realize your eyes had snapped up when you saw him begin to uncuff his sleeves, so by the time he finished, you had barely blinked and your lips were slightly parted, breath ever so slightly quickening as he finished his task. You didn’t notice your reaction, but out of the corner of his eye, Joel certainly did. He fought to contain the confident smirk that threatened to spill across his face.

He was right, you had been checking him out in that meeting.

“Give it to me,” he said, turning his probing gaze towards you once again. You looked into his dark, beautiful eyes for a moment, not sure what he meant. Then it came to you. The check.

Wordlessly, you outstretched your hand once again to hand him the envelope. Without breaking eye contact, Joel reached out and took the envelope from your grasp, but in the process grazed two long fingers gently against the back of your hand, sending sparks through your entire body at the contact.  You gasped softly, and clamped your mouth shut. You dropped your gaze, embarrassed, while you waited for him to open the envelope and hopefully dismiss you. The tension was too intense, you needed this to end.

Joel didn’t seem to mind the tension in the room, or even notice it for that matter. He slowly opened the envelope and pulled out the check within. He took note of the amount as a small yellow post-it fell out. You hadn’t seen that before in your rush to get up to his office, you had no idea what it said.

Joel picked it up and read it thoughtfully to himself. When he didn’t say anything after a minute, you finally spoke.

"What does it say?” you asked, your voice almost a whisper.

He swallowed before bringing his heated gaze back up to you.

"It says: Thank you for showing me such kindness during my time of need. I’m sorry for the late payment. It won’t happen again.”

You glanced down at your hands in your lap, a small smile threatening to tug at your lips.

“You were right this time, but don’t be naïve. Not everyone is always tellin’ you the truth,” he warned, sliding the check and post-it note back into the envelope. You nodded in agreement, still sheepishly looking down at your hands.

Joel gazed at the top of your head as you stared at your lap. He didn't want the conversation to end.

"You’re doin’ a good job," he told you, pausing to reflect for a moment. "Thank you for making that connection with my client. I’m not good at all that. Talkin’ about their personal stuff. That’s more Tommy’s side of things.” He reached across his desk and held out the envelope for you to take back.

You looked up at his outstretched hand, and careful to avoid touching him again, took it. 

"Thank you, Mr. Miller,” you replied softly, and stood up from your seat.

You gave Joel a quick smile and turned to head towards the door. Halfway to the exit, you stopped and turned back around, finding Joel’s eyes had yet to leave your body.

“I bet you would be good at it," you said, then your eyes widened as you realized how that sounded. “I-I mean, talking to the clients, learning about them, their personal lives…” you rambled as heat spread across your cheeks.

He stared at you for an awkward moment, considering your words.

“Well, I should be getting back to work,” you said, hitching your thumb to the door behind you, but before you could turn away, Joel stopped you.

"Thanks, sweetheart, maybe I’ll try it sometime,” he said, his expression softer.

You nodded and forced yourself to look away from the uncharacteristically relaxed features on his face. You turned to leave the room, but the door suddenly swung open. You nearly lost your balance, but a strong arm shot out to catch you.

“Jesus, Tommy, would ya watch it?” Joel growled from behind his desk, his expression leaving no traces of the softness you had just witnessed.

“Sorry darlin’, didn’t know my brother had anyone in here.” Tommy eyed you up appreciatively and grinned. “I don’t believe we formally met, I’m Tommy,” he stuck out his hand, which you quickly shook and gave him a polite smile, telling him your name.

You hastily made your exit, squeaking out an excuse about work, and shut the door.

“Do ya ever knock?” Joel seethed, but Tommy was too busy staring at the closed door, still thinking about the way your ass looked in your blue dress.

“I’m happy for you, Joel,” Tommy said, ignoring his question, and strolled over to a small cluster of framed pictures on the wall that haven’t been updated since they started the business. He leaned in to examine them more closely. “You need to be gettin’ back out there. I won't even give you any shit for dippin’ your pen in the company ink, like you did to me.”

“The hell you on about?” Joel replied, taking the opportunity to adjust himself under his desk while Tommy’s back was still turned. The way you were blushing and squirming in his office had a bigger effect on him than he thought. And you hadn’t even been trying. Not like him, rolling up his sleeves on purpose to see your reaction. He shuddered to think what it would be like if you actually tried to seduce him. He would be a puddle on the floor.

“Nothin’ was goin’ on, she just brought me a check.” Joel stood and walked around the front of his desk, leaning up against the edge of it, arms crossed and surveying the back of Tommy’s head.

Tommy chuckled, still examining the photos.

“Yeah, right. She was blushin’ like a whore in church when she left. Ya know, you should really get some new pictures in here. Did ya know you still got this old picture of the bunch of us at that rodeo? It’s got Amy in it.”

Joel sucked in air through his clenched teeth, the rest of his hard on instantly disappearing at the mention of her name.

“Sorry, Joel. It’s been so long, we still ain’t allowed to talk about it?” Tommy walked over behind Joel’s desk and flopped down in his chair, which made Joel have to turn around and sit in the same chair you had just occupied moments before.

“What’s there left to talk about?” Joel sighed, rubbing his face with his hands.

“Do you still talk to her? Keep in touch?” Tommy asked, fiddling with a pen on the desk.

“No.” Joel responded harshly. “Why would I? Last I heard, she’s been shacked up with that prick somewhere in the Midwest.”

“It’s been five years, and I still haven’t seen ya go out on a date, coffee, nothin’. Why are you doin’ this to yourself?”

Joel shook his head and stood up, already missing the warmth your body left in the chair.

“I’m just busy, Tommy. Haven’t met anyone worth chasin’," he replied, grabbing a pen and pad of paper from his desk.

“Well, that little lady that just left is well worth chasin’, if you ask me.” Tommy stood up too, and joined Joel as they headed out of the office to the conference room for their next meeting.

“Nobody was askin’, just drop it.” Joel couldn’t have Tommy egging him on, it was already difficult enough to keep his mind off you.

Joel hardly heard a word all throughout their meeting with the Marketing department. He vaguely remembered the head of the department nervously working through a technical error on his presentation, which made IT have to get involved. But Joel barely noticed. All he could think about was you.

You: in that thin, blue dress. He remembered how your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and how you bit down on your lower lip when you tried to hold back a smile. He thought about how soft your skin felt when he gently grazed it with his fingers. How your knees pressed together as you squirmed in your seat, waiting for him to turn his attention to you. But you had no idea that his attention was always on you, even when you weren’t around. It was all consuming, at times overwhelming, the way he constantly recalled images of you in his mind. 

Joel was relieved when the IT department could not fix the technical error, and the meeting had to be rescheduled. Everyone in the room held their breath, Tommy included, for Joel’s inevitable outburst, but surprisingly none came.

“Check with Ruby and put it on my schedule,” Joel said, collecting his things and leaving the room.

Tommy stayed behind to chat with the head of Marketing while Joel made a beeline for his office. He shut the door quickly behind him. Squeezing his eyes shut, he leaned his head back on the door.

What was going on with him? Why couldn’t he get you out of his head?

This was Tommy’s fault, had to be. He kept bringing you up and forcing these thoughts into his head.

But it wasn’t Tommy’s fault when his cock jumped after he touched your hand and heard you gasp.

Fuck. This had to stop. He rubbed his hands over his face roughly, then something Tommy said came back to him. It had been a long time since he was with Amy. Tommy was right, he hadn’t been on any dates, he was just sexually frustrated. It was building up, and he needed a release. That would clear his head.

Joel turned and headed towards his private bathroom, which was just a small pocket door in the wall, hardly visible when you first walked in. He went in and locked the door behind him. He unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock, already throbbing from the past hour of torture his thoughts have led him on.

Joel gripped the base firmly in his fist, and he squeezed his eyes shut, dreaming of you wearing that dress in his office. This time, when you squeezed your knees together, he imagined you were trying to create some friction to relieve the wet heat between your legs. You were just as turned on as he was in his fantasy. Joel lazily ran his hand up and down his cock, as his imagination kept carrying him away.

He wondered what kind of panties you were wearing under that dress. Maybe they were lace, or a thong. Maybe you weren’t wearing any at all. There we go.

He started running his hand up and down his shaft faster, his breath quickening as his fantasy took hold.

Now he was bunching your dress up around your hips, hitching your leg around his waist as he grabbed onto the back of your neck, bringing you closer so he could suck on the pulse point in your throat, making you moan his name. He pushed you on top of his desk, and you let yourself fall backwards, recklessly shoving papers and files off his desk.

He could feel his release bubbling to the surface now, as his movements became more frantic, and his other hand grasped the towel bar next to the sink for leverage.

Now Joel saw you bouncing on his cock, still wearing that pretty little dress, but your tits were spilled over the top. He pulled one nipple into his mouth, making you cry out and bounce faster, while his fingers brushed gently against the other one. You grabbed the sides of his face and dragged his mouth up to yours, hovering over each other’s mouths, gasping, but still not touching, as you bounced faster, faster, faster… 

Joel groaned and desperately reached out to grab a tissue from the box next to the sink, right in time to catch his thick ropes of come. His hips gently thrusted forward as he came down from his high, breathing heavily, eyes squeezed shut.

He opened his eyes as his breathing returned to normal, glancing around the room to steady himself.  He looked down, grateful he didn’t make a mess on his dress pants. He cleaned himself up, flushed the tissue down the toilet, tucked himself back into his pants and went to wash his hands.

He cupped some water from the sink and rinsed his face. Drying himself with the towel, he looked up at the mirror and saw a dirty, old man, who had just jerked off to the thoughts of a much younger employee. The shame was setting in now.

I hope you enjoyed it, you dirty fuck. She would never give you the real thing.

Joel dried his hands, and left the bathroom, feeling guilty, but couldn’t deny he had a much clearer head.

He didn’t see you for at least a full week. That whole week, he felt like himself again. He could see clearly; his thoughts weren’t all jumbled up and he was back to barking orders to his teams on jobsites.

He just needed to jerk off. That’s all it was. No big deal.

Early one morning before most of the employees started their work day, he made his way down to Heather’s office on the 6th floor. She had left him a voicemail saying that the company was being audited, and she needed to speak with him right away. This would require a lot of work from her department, and she needed him to approve the overtime, especially since he scared off your pretty little boyfriend, the department remained shorthanded. He walked off the elevator with his hands shoved in his pockets, sleeves pushed up to his elbows. It was quickly becoming his new look, just in case he ran into you.

He turned the corner towards Heather’s office but stopped short when he heard you laughing. He peered around a corner and saw you with some co-workers in the break room.

He was frozen to the ground, taking in your beautiful smile and laugh as you tried not to spill the coffee in your hand. You were wearing a knee-length flowy black skirt, with a V-neck light purple blouse. When you bent over to laugh again, he saw a glimpse of your tits bouncing under your shirt. He held his breath for a moment, trying to will himself forward, when you suddenly looked over and met his gaze. 

Your friends didn’t notice him standing there, and you didn’t say anything. You just ran your eyes up and down his body, pausing on his exposed forearms. You gave him a shy smile and a little wave. Before he realized it, he was slowly lifting his hand up in return.

He was fucked.

Chapter Four

[profundcherrylady]

With the Book of Bill that came out recently and the amount of new things that have been revealed, I think it's clear for everyone that the canon existence of the multiverse and alternate timelines has given the fandom a lot to talk about. Some of the ones that have been most pointed out have been the Dipper who didn't get his body back from Bill, the Mabel zombie, Dipper in the digital world, Mabel the gnome queen, Dipper killed by Gideon and even Mabel possesed by Bill. I, however, haven't seen that many people talk about that one specific timeline that we can also see there, which is the one from the episode "The inconveniencing" where Mabel dies from eating too much Smile Dip (can't exactly remember where she is at the image with the other timelines, but she's there in some corner). I get that some (if not all) of this alternate timelines are pretty dark, but I think this one is not nearly talked about enough. I mean, imagine you're Dipper and you decided to lie about your age to look good infront of your crush so she lets you hang out with her and her older friends, tag your sister along and you all go to a creepy abandoned convenience store that is supposedly haunted. Everything is cool at first, then you see your sister find some discontinued candy which you know is banned from the country for being highly toxic, yet you get quickly distracted by the fun and games. You have fun and play around with your crush and her friends, completely distracted from whatever it is your sister is doing or how she is. During a breif moment, you see her again and notice that maybe she's eating too much from that stuff because she's clearly hallucinating due to the toxic contents of the candy, and yet again, the fun and attention your crush is giving you by saying you'rr pretty mature for your age redirect your attention away from your sister. A while passes and you probably realize you haven't heard her in a while, like not even the slightest sound of her or sign that she's doing anything. No laughing, screaming, jumping, footsteps, and you probably wonder if it was a good idea to let her eat that much candy, so you figure you should go check on her only to find out that she's passed away right there, probably surrounded by empty Smile Dip packages and covered in sugar. Just like that, she's gone. That's not even paranormal or anything, that's just... sad. A literal intoxication, which is like, super real. Probably the realest death in all these alternate timelines, because this is something that didn't even happen because of a sueprnatural event related to Gravity Falls; it was just... a consequence of various bad and irresponsible decisions. Of course I do know that in this episode of the series there's a whole ghost situation but that isn't even related to the Mabel's death itself; it happened on it's own. And we don't know how these events ended up happening, if they did happen, exactly. I can just speculate and form an idea of what most likely was the course of events. I'm guessing it could be during the scene where Dipper asks Mabel how many Smile Dips she had and she answers "Bleven-teen" could be a good reference of when she passed away on that alternate timeline. Like maybe Dipper is seeing the store is haunted, he goes and tries to ask his sister for help since no one is answering the phone at the mystery shack just to find that she's dead (which I would hope made the whole group leave the store before even attempting to step on the place where the owners died, but who knows how that turned out). Anyway, I could be here all day trying to speculate a hundred different scenarios from a hundred different timelines, but I'd rather leave that for another time maybe

[randomshyperson]

A pinch of paprika | Wanda Maximoff Oneshots

Summary: The night when Vision cooks for Wanda end very differently than how it went because you show up to save the dinner (and the girl). | Writing Challenge

Warning: None, it’s pure fluff with teasing and bad jokes.| Words: 1.269k

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

“Wanda, no one dislikes you.”

She would have chuckled at the Synthesized's clumsy attempt to improve her mood - It was kind, after all. - But she didn't get the chance. Another figure was entering the kitchen at the same moment Vision made the comment, and your teasing expression drew a much more sincere smile from her.

"Oh, don't speak for me, Microwave." You told him, only to look at the witch standing at the stove the next moment. "I haven't decided my opinion on that cute little witch yet."

Wanda giggles shyly at the nickname, blushing at the greeting wink you throw her. She doesn't know exactly when you two fell into this playful and comfortable dynamic, she just knows it happened and that she wouldn't trade it for anything.

Or well, maybe she could add something more...

"Hello, Miss Rogers." Vision greets half-heartedly at the sudden arrival. "I did not realize that you were still in the Tower. I figured with the current status of the Accords, you would have joined your brother..."

You waved - cutting him off as if the Robot's questioning mattered little to you. It was true because Wanda had your complete attention. Or, rather, almost, because you seemed quite curious about the pot of food.

"What is this supposed to be?" You ask her with the same tone as before, but now, much closer, enough to press your arms together when you lean in to smell the contents of the pan. 

Wanda holds the spoon a little tighter. "Vision was making dinner."

You frown, looking at the robot in surprise. "I thought you couldn't eat, champ."

The machine clears its throat (Or mimics the motion, whichever way it operates). 

"I was intending to raise Mrs. Maximoff's spirits." He clarifies by exchanging a look between you and Wanda. "Given the current circumstances, a comfort food should bring, well, comfort."

"Got it." You murmur offering a forced smile to the Synthesized. Wanda has no idea of the jealousy that burns in your chest at having to witness Vision think about this before you can. Screw the Accords for keeping you busy often enough. 

The next moment, you taste the food, and your reaction is much more exaggerated than Wanda's, and maybe it's on purpose.

"Dude, whatever it is you tried to do here, it needs an intervention." You sneer and it's mean enough for Wanda to give you a gentle nudge for the robot's expression. You sigh begrudgingly. "Tell you what, Wanda and I will go get some ingredients at the market and you stay away from the stove-"

But just as you make mention of leaving the kitchen, Vision stands in your way. He exchanges a quick glance with Wanda to your confused chuckle.

"I'm afraid this isn't the best idea, Miss Rogers." He starts evidently uncomfortable with the whole thing. 

"Dude. what the...?"

"Vision." Interferes with the witch, stepping forward. " Aren't you letting us leave?"

The Synthesized, clearly embarrassed, tries to keep his gaze on you. "I'm very sorry, but those were Mr.Stark's orders. Y/N, you shouldn't even be in the tower, but now that you are, Tony fears that other incidents might happen... It's all to ensure safety-"

The shove throws Vision at least five steps away. He locks his jaw, but you glare at him angrily. 

"Get out of my way, Vision." You warn between teeth, raising a finger at the other. "Don't play Stark's butler on me. I'll have your ass unplugged."

With a gentle point toward the Stone on his head, you lower your hand. The Synthesized, though hesitating for a second, eventually steps forward.

"If you want to leave, you have every freedom to do so." He says seriously. "But Miss Maximoff-"

"Comes with me." You cut in, grabbing Wanda's hand with a tug. She gasps softly and holds your wrist with her free one, divided on not causing more trouble or just following you wherever you want. Your expression remains irritated toward the robot. "What kind of fucking attitude is that now, Vision? Betraying your own family and all that bull shit. I thought you cared about Wanda."

Vision's posture breaks, and it is evident that he would have blushed if he could. The Synthesized lowers his head in shame, and you sigh to calm yourself. When you speak again, it is much more tender than before.

"Me and Wanda just get something decent to eat. No trouble, no fuss." You say and move at a slow pace. Vision makes no mention of interfering now, and remains head down. "In the meantime, call Tony and tell him to stop being a dick."

Wanda bites back a laugh, gently pushing you out of the kitchen.

It shouldn't surprise her that you drive her into the garage, nor that you steal - borrow without asking - one of Stark's pickup trucks either. But still, seeing the set of backpacks inside, Wanda has to confirm:

"We're not going to the market, are we?"

You laugh. "Of course not, little witch." You assure her, stepping inside at the same time she does. The garage door opens, and you waste no time in taking the car out through the back of the Compound, the longer way but one that would arouse less suspicion. Splitting your gaze between the road and Wanda, you speak again: "I really thought there was something strange about this quarantine of yours, I had to check it out. Do you really think I was gonna let Tony Stark ground you? Even worse, with a guard dog at the door? Fuck them all. I'm taking you somewhere safe."

"B-but your brother..."

Your hand finds hers. "He will fight his own battles, as always." You retort gently, lacing your fingers over her thigh. "He's always done everything for Bucky, Wands. Nothing is going to change that. And I...I have someone like that now and I understand him. I finally do."

Wanda swallows dryly, shifting her gaze to your joined hands, her heart thumping in her chest. "This someone...you're talking about Natasha, right?"

You burst out laughing so loudly that you almost lose control of the car. Wanda would have slapped you if you weren't holding her hand. "Oh my god, I'm going all Thelma and Louise on you right now and you think I like Natasha? What the fuck..."

"Can you stop the car, please?" She cuts you off, and you grimace. 

"We should probably move further away before-"

"I'm going to kiss you, asshole, and I don't want you to crash"

"Oh. Oh... O- okay, sure." You mumble quickly, very flushed. You let go of Wanda's hand only to shift gears, and you've barely parked on the side of the road and she's grabbing the collar of your shirt. 

The first kiss you share on the highway exit under the starry New York sky tastes like chicken seasoning.

You and Wanda break into breathless laughter. 

"Vision really is a terrible cook." You comment, feeling your stomach fill with nervous butterflies at the way Wanda is staring at you.

She giggles at the comment, helping you wipe some of the smeared lipstick from your lips. "And I'm still starving, detka. Can we get something to eat on the way?"

"Anything for my little witch." You assure with a passionate smile, and Wanda kisses you again before letting you get back to driving.

Many hours later, when Clint finds you guys at one of Natasha’s safe houses, he would pretend not to notice the lipstick marks fading into the collar of your shirt, nor the matching purple marks on Wanda's neck.

[punsmaster69]

12/APR/20XX

i think that was my goal.

remember? the one i was mentionin' about twenty nine pages ago? i'd said something like...

"and when i achieve it?"

"...guess i'll finally close this book for good."

so, i'll count that to be my goal.

therapist agrees, so you can't get on me about that.

sharing inner thoughts was never something i'm great at. so much so that you might've forgotten that's what this was for.

can you believe that? s'posed to be a thought journal. daily mental-state evaluation.

ended up talking about my friends instead.

wasn't for me, i suppose.

...after some amount of pages, huh? geez.

[This calls attention to the fact that the book is much thicker than it was when it started. Seems instead of switching to another one, his journal just... gained pages.]

point is.

seems to me like a good place to stop things at.

i'll give you a final update, and we'll call it. alright?

——

breaking the news went as smoothly as if we'd entered the room and broke a vase on the floor instead. (undyne about did just that.)

the second calamity was when mettaton and my bro show up kinda late

holding hands.

turns out my bro is much more decisive than i am.

apparently it was mettaton first, then paps who decided after a few serious dates.

congrats to 'em.

been deflecting questions best i can all day from the announcements, so i was thankful my bro showing up like that took enough of the heat off me n' tori.

i...

can't stop smiling.

well- alright, that's a given.

but i mean this doofy grin i haven't kept up this long in ages.

i'm not even trying for this one.

all this talk about relationships, i think undyne's gotten excited. talking about marriage and all that. alphys has gone beet red.

grillby and the bar gave me a hell of a lot of pats on the back. i'd be bruised if i weren't bones.

if it wasn't that which would've bruised me, it definitely would have been the punch flowey gave me. the comment that earned me it?

"so..."

"this makes me your dad, right?"

he didn't take it well.

despite the petal-haver's apparent hatred... i think he's secretly glad that toriel's happy.

my bro sure took the news well.

granted, since he already thought me and her were dating, he just was happy for the public announcement.

"WAIT."

"DOES THIS MAKE ME AN UNCLE?!?"

"Are we gonna get another sibling??"

"WAIT, are we gonna get a SKELE-sibling?!?"

"whoa, slow down-"

"Frisk, NO??"

"Do not encourage this BONEHEAD to-"

"I think that is quite enough."

tori puts her foot down on that conversation.

living situations shouldn't change much for now, but maybe we'll figure out something else in the future. (staying with my bro. don't panic.)

concerns about my health have slowed down, as i've gotten more used to daily magic usage. noticed way less bad days recently, right? papyrus still insists on teaching me to use attacks better, so i've got that to look forward to. there might still be ups n' downs health-wise, but i'm confident in getting through 'em now.

paps is noticeably still somewhat anxious about it, fidgeting whenever everything is brought up. which is fair, but. still.

i'll get him a therapist like i've been seeing. an in-person one'll work better for him, i think.

not sure what else'll change, really. everything feels mostly the same.

other than (gasp) public handholding. (scandalous.) every time we're beside one another, tori's finding some form of physical contact.

that's different.

...in a good way.

right now, it looks like the aftermath of a wild party. friends knocked out in random spots; dangling half-off the couch or sprawled across the floor. i think frisk and i are the only ones still awake, since they wanted to put blankets on everyone.

"(Psst. Is one blanket enough?)"

they raise a large blanket in gesture with a questioning look.

i speak extra softly so i don't disturb toriel laying at my side, with her head on my shoulder and an arm across my torso; hand met with mine.

"(yep.)"

"(Kk.)"

frisk lays a blanket over me and tori. they stare contemplatively before speaking.

"....."

"Goodnight, Dad."

"...'night, kid."

welp.

guess that's it, huh?

....

i'm happy.

caring is nice.

———★

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐃

[rindragon-from-twewy]

Mmmm forte swap au brain rot upon ye!

I've already completed designs for everyone at the NDA but I wanna space out the posts a bit cuz I don't think I'd be able to say all I'd want to in just one post!

Ramble about character info below; (+spoilers for all of mdarc)

Obviously this is based on my silly doodles for rain code ship week but I've actually started putting a lot of thought in to this now! (I've had waaaaaaay too much free time recently and I'm blessed with the ability to come up with lore/world building very quickly given enough motivation!)

So first off: Why Storm Cypher? Well cuz it's a protagonist swap! Desuhiko's now the amnesiac trainee being haunted by Shinigami so it made sense in my opinion to make this au's name reflectant of his last name, Thunderbolt. So that's where the 'Storm' comes from. 'Cypher' because it's a form of code and... well I just think it sounds nice basically! I do what I do for my own enjoyment, I don't always need to have a reason - no matter what my teachers say.

Also I decided to change some (Not all) character's last name's to better reflect their newly assigned fortes.

Anyway- It's character info dumping time!!!

Desuhiko, like og Yuma, has absolutely no memory of his past. While his personality remains fairly intact, he boards the Amaterasu Express hoping to figure out who he is along the way. While nobody there knows who he is, he instead finds he have a knack for word-play, puns and pick up lines, leading to accusations of secretly being a circus clown as opposed to a detective. This attitude is only solidified more upon meeting Shinigami, the death god with just as many innuendos to make as he does. They get along almost dangerously well, even more so when he learns she has a humanoid form. After completing the first mystery labyrinth, he decides that being a detective HAS to be his true calling, since solving the case was pretty fun all things considered, and receives his hoodie from The Chief to help keep him dry once arriving in Kanai Ward.

Yuma on the other hand, takes the place of co-star of chapter 2. At first he comes off as cool and charismatic but he breaks down almost immediately at the slightest hint of conflict. He's been a very famous musician for years prior to becoming a master detective, though he finds it hard to fully express himself through anything other then his appearance and music. The anxiety induced from an excess of fans, attention, and not knowing who to trust anymore thanks to his own popularity, he was ecstatic to be scouted by the WDO for his talents in disguises. Once it blossomed into a fully fledged forte and he was allowed to work as a detective properly though... they started regretting hiring him. Chaotic, anti-authoritatian and impossible to track down, he's more of a vigilante then a real detective. He was selected to go to Kanai Ward due to it's predicted high mortality rate, the higher ups hoping to dispose of the troublemaker without being too obvious about it. What does APAB mean you ask? All Peacekeepers Are Bastards!!! The Chief wasn't very happy to see him wearing it but permanent marker is permanent.

I haven't decided if I'll change Shinigami's humanoid design yet. If I do though, it'll probably just be more remenicent of her beta design. I haven't decided if I'll swap the Amaterasu Express detectives either though but... maybe I will. Since its forte swap though, the peacekeepers will all remain the same.

I'm hoping to write a fanfic for this, as opposed to like... a comic. But I'm partial to the idea of maybe doing an ask blog as well? I don't know yet. Either way, I'll probably post more for this tomorrow! <3

[heygerald]

Falling Without a Harness - Chapter 11

AU where Tom Ryder is still an asshole, just not a psychotic one. Tom Ryder is rich. Everyone knows that. When Tom decides to do something out of character, Parker has to decide what is just the habits of someone careless with their fortune, and what can be considered acts of service from someone that cares about her.

Read the story here: prev / ...

The studio set after hours was a strange place to find oneself. It was beautiful in that glamorous way that everything mundane in Hollywood was; twinkling lights strung between ugly studio buildings, extras dressed in 1800s regalia tapping on their phones as they awaited whatever scene they were in, the black blanket of the endless LA sky an empty backdrop to the megaphones and spotlights being lugged around.

It was exciting, and it was also not; there was a lot of movement but not a whole lot of doing that translated to a mute static hanging in the air.

"Is it always like this?" Parker asked from her spot in the back end of Dan's pick-up truck. It had been packed with all sorts of bits and bobs that she had never seen before, and as Jody exchanged the batteries in a flashlight, Parker prodded curiously at a baseball sized dent in one of the various helmets stacked behind her. "Not stunt work, I mean. The set in general. I figure Dan probably goes through three helmets a week."

Jody hummed, flicking the flashlight on then off before setting it aside as a warbled voice crackled across the radio on her belt. She tilted her head to listen for a brief moment before turning back to Parker.

"Studio sets are always busy. Haven't you been here before?"

"Sure, but... during normal hours," Parker noted with a glance towards the sky. "But it's almost midnight, and the parking lot was pretty full when I got here at ten."

Jody hummed flippantly, shrugging as she switched her radio to a different channel. More warbled conversation flowed for a few minutes before she decided that there was nothing important enough to require her attention.

Snapping it back onto her belt, the camerawoman kicked her feet back and forth with a delicate smile curving her lips. "Well, I suppose there's always something to be filmed. It's not just us filming on the lot, you know. We share space with a dozen other directors at any given moment. Sometimes, you're filming night scenes. Sometimes you just want to get work in when less people are around. It's just how it is."

Parker supposed that made sense. Afterall, she preferred to go grocery shopping late at night for the very purpose of having less people to avoid in the aisles.

Still.

It was odd to see a set full of life in the middle of the night. Odder still when a pair of actors drifted by on a golf cart; the pair were dressed in ragged clothes, with fake bruises painted along their cheeks, and red cuts oozing fake blood down their forearms. No one but Parker even seemed to register their presence before they disappeared down a nearby alley.

"I think this is way more fun than coming during the day," she decided a moment later. "And I'm not just saying that because I didn't have to argue with the security guards to get in."

Jody snickered. "They're actually very nice."

"To everyone but me, apparently."

"You never have a good reason to be on set, though, do you?" the Brit teased with a wiggle of her eyebrows. Parker faked offense, and Jody's hair came loose from behind her ears as she laughed. "Kidding. I'm very glad to have someone keep me company tonight while Colt's training. Although I am surprised you had time to come by at all. Colt says you've been busy lately."

"Busy-er than before. But ten times zero is still zero, you know?"

"Oh, please," Jody rolled her eyes, flashlight toggle flickering mindlessly in her hands as she tried to stave off boredom. Honestly, Parker didn't know how she managed not to fall asleep with so little to do this late at night. She was yawning and she hadn't been here since the early morning like Jody had. "Your store is splendid. You've always had clients. Now, apparently, you just have more. Busy is still busy."

"Splendid?" Parker echoed, teasing the word in a mock British accent. She quite liked it; both the sound and the funky way she had to work her tongue. "No one has ever called my store splendid before, but you're right. It is a splendid store. Andy R from Angie's List can suck it."

"He left a bad review?"

Parker waved a hand at Jody. "He comes in once a month to ask if I have any new Tolstoy books in, and when I remind him that Tolstoy died a couple hundred years back, he thinks I'm being emotional and sassy. Asshole."

"Prick," Jody said in her very real British accent.

Parker liked that too. "Andy R is a total prick. Maybe that's the tagline that I'll put on my t-shirts. Or, a few, anyways. I'd bet Melissa would be happy to wear one with me. She does not like that dude."

"You're finally getting shirts?"

"Finally."

"See?" Jody gestured to her. "You are busy."

Parker rolled her eyes with a smile. It was endearing how much Jody cared about the success of her store—always inquiring about how sales are going, and dropping by when she has some time to pick up a new book—but they were surface level compliments at best. Her store wasn't going to beat out Barnes & Nobles for awards anytime soon.

She'd be lucky to finally have her shop registering on Google Maps as a business and not as just a big question mark like it currently was.

"Not for customers to buy, anyway. I just think it's about time I got my store name on a t-shirt. Everybody has t-shirts. I mean, literally everybody. Have you ever been to a thrift store? I have found some weird stuff in the dollar bin."

Jody tipped her head back in laughter. "I have seen some odd shirts. Mostly, though, they're shirts that you are wearing."

She shrugged. "What can I say? I love a good thrift store bargain. And a gimmick. And—well, anything to do with my store. All the more reason to start printing my own shirts. I can finally rep the place, you know? Plus, I am busier now. I might even be able to print a dozen tees without going bankrupt by the end of the calendar year."

Jody peered at Parker sideways, soda bottle in hand as she swished the lash few sips around in circles. "So, things are going well, then."

Parker tilted her head left and right. Things certainly were going better, but that didn't mean she wasn't still drowning in bills and ridiculous requests from customers that were absolutely not 'always right'. Even with the increase in revenue and constant presence of teenage girls from the local high school, she was stuck spending most of her day putting out fires. She could feel herself stretching thin lately with all the extra hours her and Melissa were putting in, and at some point over the last year she had gone completely nose blind to the musty smell of her store. Not to mention the fact that she was also fairly sure that the Bath and Body Works' plug-ins spread around her store were going to give her cancer one day (if the crusty moms were to be believed). But it wasn't the time nor the place to drop all of those fears onto Jody's lap; not to mention way too late to use the braincells needed to verbalize those thoughts.

So, Parker elected to ignore all of that. Instead, she waggled her brows with a grin. "Does that mean you'll buy a shirt?"

Jody shook her head, snorting. "You really are Colt's sister."

"Well, I'd hope so," she sniffed. "The orphan-in-a-box story always seemed a little too stupid to be true. As if someone would ever give this up," she tacked on, gesturing to herself with an impish smile.

The look was betrayed by her over-sized sweatshirt and messy braids. Not to mention the tattered jeans and filthy sneakers on her feet. But if Jody was laughing at her, she didn't say, and so the two women giggled at their inside joke whilst the set continued to spur to life around them.

An actress dressed in a delicate silk dress and high heels strutted past as they laughed; her hair was done up in perfect Hollywood glamor, sparkly highlighter on her cheekbones and a delicate pink eyeshadow painting her lids. With the fur slung over her shoulders, she looked like she had just hopped out of a Marilyn Monroe biopic, and when she tossed her hair, it looked like—well—a movie. It took Parker a moment to calm down from her laughter to recognize the actress from a popular CW tv show, and as she strolled past, she couldn't help but crack her neck to get a better look.

When she turned back to Jody, the camerawoman hadn't even seemed to notice.

"This is crazy," she said, tucking her legs up underneath her as she fiddled with the straps on Dan's busted helmet. The actress was gone now, and Parker tried to shake the bizarre feeling of being stuck in The Twilight Zone from her mind. "I know you work in the film industry, but, honestly... It must be so much fun doing this sort of thing all the time."

Jody snorted. "Sure," she echoed. "Fun."

"Isn't it?"

"I mean... alright, yes, of course it is fun. It's amazing to be behind the scenes, to see how movies are made, to know how much work goes into a three minute scene without any dialogue. I mean—I'm always learning new things, so it's certainly not boring," she said. But Parker felt like there was going to be more to her answer, and so she tilted her head in interest, prompting Jody to continue. "But... a typical nine to five certainly wouldn't hurt sometimes. Times like these, when we're stuck here until god knows when just so the director can perfect a shadow in one of the scenes or something else as miniscule... well, it can certainly test your patience."

Parker glanced in the director's direction, taking note of the two assistants that trailed after him with thick binders full of colorful notes, pens tucked haphazardly about their persons. "It's not always like this though. Right?"

Jody shook her head. "No, no. Of course not. Usually our shifts are much more normal. Even if the hours vary, they usually schedule morning scenes together, evening scenes together—you know. So it's not so tedious. And we're almost never here this late just for blocking. Sadowitz is on a tighter schedule for a few things since the New York scenes have to be shot by the first of the month. He's just getting in as many last minute rehearsals as possible so when they go to New York everything is set to go right away. Understandable, of course... I just wish he wasn't such a perfectionist sometimes."

Jacob Sadowitz was the up-and-coming director leading this sci-fi film, and though he wasn't that much older than Parker, he had already earned himself a fair share of accolades for his daring action films. Particularly, the box office had been impressed with his intricate fight scenes and stunt work in his latest movies. Just last year some veteran journalist had printed an in-depth essay commending Sadowitz' dedication to the craft, touching on how much research he put into his work to make sure everything was as accurate as possible. Based on his credentials alone it was no surprise that he would be working his stunt crew till the middle of the night until they were well-oiled machines.

Still, Parker wrinkled her nose tiredly. "Isn't there a quote about that? Perfectionism being the downfall of yada, yada, yada. Want me to tell him that? Threaten to call the union if you don't get to go home soon?"

The truck shook as Jody kicked her leg at Parker with a reprimanding tut. But, she was smiling as she did it, giggling under her breath in that way of hers. "He's not that bad. This is not that bad. I mean, sometimes, the schedule is so mind-bendingly awful that it's a wonder anything gets done... but it's hardly the worst I've dealt with. At least he treats everyone well. Well, he doesn't scream at anyone, I mean."

Parker blew a raspberry. "I can't even imagine. I think I'd get arrested for my behavior if a director ever screamed at me. No idea how you don't lose your shit on the daily."

"Oh, I've come close a few times," she chuckled.

The comment surprised Parker. Not because Jody Moreno was a woman that could take care of herself—obviously, she didn't put up with bullshit, and she didn't rely on anyone to get things done. Moreso because Jody had to put up with so much that Parker couldn't quite imagine a scenario that would have to be bad enough to cause the camerawoman to lose her cool. And if being yelled at wasn't enough, what was? Leaning closer, she needled. "You're serious?"

"Of course I am."

"What happened?"

"I'm not sure I can even remember why anymore."

"So it's happened more than once?"

"Are you kidding?" Jody scoffed with a shake of her head. "The type of behavior you see on set is not something you'd ever get away with anywhere else. It happens every movie. Directors are just so..."

"Insane?"

"Hollywood," she corrected, gaze darting around to see if anyone was in hearing range of her complaints. No one was, though, and even if they were, Parker had a sneaking suspicion that the other set crew would be more likely to join in on the bitch fest than snitch about it. "I mean you wouldn't believe some of the stuff we have to put up with. The egos some of these directors have is absurd. Bad directors! Ones that shouldn't even be directing that act like they're Tarantino or Nolan. Throwing things and crying and blubbering like babies—"

"Oh, fuck off!" Parker cried, leaning even closer. "You're joking!"

Jody Moreno was not, in fact, joking. She looked scandalized just by having to recall the things she had seen. Something haunted in her eyes, but there was still a smile tugging at her mouth. Obviously, she saw the humor in it; even if it was fucked up. "I wish. I mean—grown men crying because something wasn't going their way or screaming because the sun is too bright." She made air quotes with her hands, showing that she was not joking in the slightest about this before inching towards Parker. Something twinkled in her eyes as she said, "I kid you not during my first gig ever, I had a director break down in tears because the lead actress wasn't pronouncing the word butter how he wanted her to."

"Butter?" Parker echoed incredulously. "Is there even a wrong way to say it?"

"Oh," she said, giggling. "You'd be surprised. Not to say that he was right in his little hissy fit, but her accent was so wrong. Awful, Parker. I'm telling you. The whole film—a disaster."

"Huh. Butter," she said with a giggle.

Jody giggled back. "No, it was more like boo-ter."

"Boo-ter?" she cried. "That's—no way. Butter. Butt-her. How do you even—bu-t-ter?"

The two women keeled forward in laughter at the ridiculous conversation. It was such a stupid thing for someone to cry over, but the longer they tossed the word back in forth in the most ridiculous accents they could imagine, Parker was beginning to forget how it was properly pronounced in the first place.

Was it—?

There was a scuffle of shoes, then a thump as Dan dropped his elbows onto the side of the truck bed with a wary glance towards the two women. He almost looked like he didn't want to get involved in the first place, but when the silent stare-off seemed even funnier than their previous conversation causing them to tip against the other in laughter, his curiosity seemed to outweigh his hesitation.

"Do I even want to know?" he asked.

"That depends," Parker wiped tears out of the corner of her eyes. "How do you say butter?"

Dan blinked at her. Then, slowly, he shook his head at them with a long sigh. "So, no, I don't want to know. I told your brother that leaving you two hens together would only lead to trouble. He doesn't ever listen to me, though, does he?"

"Oi!" Parker smacked him on the arm, scoffing. "Who are you calling hens?"

Dan waved a hand at her, before snatching the helmet off of her lap, and plopping it atop her head to say, "always clucking, you two. Colt's going to end up in trouble and he's not even going to know why. I'd feel sorry for him if he didn't still owe me fifty bucks. You aren't here to pay his debts, are you?"

Parker, helmet now hanging low over her eyes, adjusted it towards the back of her head with a scoff. "It's sins of the father, not sins of the little sister. What's he doing that he's going to get in trouble for, anyway?"

"Oh, no. No, no, no," Dan laughed, wagging a finger at her in as much of a patronizing manner as someone could manage after a twelve hour shift. She would have scowled if it wasn't so endearing; she always liked Dan. Mostly because he had a head on his shoulders when her brother was constantly looking for where he left his, but also because he was just as good at teasing as he was being teased. "I'm not falling for that one, Park. If you don't know, then you're not going to find out from me. Snitches get stiches, you know?"

"Whatever. He's awful at secrets, so if he is doing something stupid, I'll find out. I always do."

Dan mimicked talking with his hand. "What'd I say? Clucking hens."

"I don't cluck, I just point out all the ways he's spectacularly stupid in," she corrected with a waggle of the head. The movement seemed to jostle the oversized helmet too much, however, and it rapped her nose as it slid down her face. Parker adjusted it a second time with a huff, ignoring how Jody was snickering into her hand. "Speaking of doing spectacularly stupid things, Numbnuts doesn't need this helmet for this stunt does he? I think it's broken."

"They have straps for a reason," Dan pointed out.

The comment sounded far too much like a threat for her liking though and Parker just managed to bend out of his grasp before he could cinch the straps under her chin. She bumped into Jody, who only shook her head at the pair's antics, as her radio warbled with nonsensical chatter.

Parker side-eyed Dan. "Isn't there something you should be doing right now? Like—I don't know—working? Tying safety knots or blowing up an inflatable mat or whatever it is you do? I'm sure there's a building you could hurl yourself off of nearby if you'd rather leave the hens alone."

Dan rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "That's your brother's job, though, isn't it?"

And—oh, yeah.

Remembering the reason that she was sitting in this pick-up truck in the first place Parker planted a hand on the helmet so she could tip her head back far enough to see said brother standing about thirty feet up on a platform of sorts. It was the skeleton of a building, open staircases with haphazardly drilled in railings surrounding each new floor. It almost looked like something you would find on a construction site in lieu of a working elevator, but Colt didn't seem to mind the shoddy building from his spot at the tip-top of it where he was in deep conversation with the stunt coordinator. Jody had explained that this was the frame of whatever building he would actually be performing the stunt from; just a temporary set he could work with here before shooting the real thing, but from this point of view it just looked like a whole lot of OSHA violations to Parker.

As expected, he didn't seem to notice.

In fact, Colt seemed to be smiling an awful lot for someone about to be thrown off a building, and even though he was wearing a harness, Parker had to look away before the nervous feeling in her stomach ran off with her dinner.

"I still don't understand why he's doing this at midnight," she mumbled to no one in particular. The darkness seemed to creep in every corner, and Parker wrapped her arms around herself to stave off the chill. "Couldn't the stunt coordinator have booked this death trap during the day?"

"It's cheaper at night," Jody said. "Less people around, less unnecessary crew getting in the way."

"Plus, you know, if he does fall and crack his head open on the pavement it's a whole lot easier for an ambulance to get here without rush-hour traffic," Dan joked.

The truck physically rocked from how quickly the two women jerked their heads in his direction, and as if suddenly aware of how flat his joke had fallen with this particular audience, he threw up his palms before they could say anything.

"Shit. Sorry. I was just kidding, yeah? Stunt humor tends to be... bleak."

"Stunt humor is never funny," Jody said.

"Honestly, Dan," Parker added with the shake of her head. The helmet slid down her forehead once more, and she tossed the entire helmet behind her with a patronizing tut. "Read the room."

He sucked his teeth, grimacing at the ground. "Sorry."

"If he ends up in the hospital now it's all going to be your fault," Parker continued, digging her teeth in. She could have bleak humor too when she wanted, and Dan grimaced a second time as if he was just remembering that. "Don't stuntmen believe in jinx's? We need salt, now. You have any salt? Or, like, a rabbit's foot or—is it one crow's feather or two?"

This time, he rolled his eyes at her, looking a whole lot less apologetic about the situation. "I said sorry."

"Oh, well, I'll make sure Colt knows that when he's on a ventilator and having a machine do all his breathing for him. He'll be so touched, I'm sure."

"I said I was sorry!"

"Sorry! He's sorry! Jody, give me your radio, we need to cancel—"

Parker reached for Jody's radio at the same time that she got tired of their antics, and with a glare, Jody swatted Parker's hand away from her hip. "Honestly, you two," she tsked at them like a teacher scolding schoolchildren. And, like two schoolchildren being scolded, Parker and Dan avoided one another's gaze so they didn't bust out in laughter. "Now you have me worried!"

"Oh, he's going to be fine," Dan assured her.

"Fine," Parker echoed.

"Well," Dan hedged after a moment, and Parker was already snickering before she heard what he had to say. "Physically he'll be okay. It's all safe, he's harnessed in, the mat is made for this sort of thing. But, mentally, you know..." Dan trailed off as he glanced up towards Colt. "He'll be the same he always has been."

"Oh, stop it!" Jody chucked her empty soda bottle at him.

It bounced off his chest with a dull thud, and Parker had just tilted forward in laughter when there was a bullhorn somewhere on the far side of the set. The three tilted their heads back just in time to watch Colt lurched off the platform, arms swinging wildly as if he was falling to his death. And just when Parker's stomach clenched in concern because—what if?—he hit the mat with his own dull thud. Air started hissing out of the inflatable in seconds, and as it pooled around him, Colt's first response was to give everyone on set a thumbs-up.

"Well, there's definitely something wrong with him," Parker said after a long moment of silence, letting out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Dan was already walking away from whatever she was about to say, and needing an audience, she turned to Jody knowing the woman would sympathize. With a jerk of her thumb, she sighed. "I mean, why else would he do this for money? Honestly?"

Jody hemmed and hawed for a moment before giving in. "Because... he's an idiot?"

"Because," Parker agreed, finishing her own soda with an eyeroll as her brother traded high-fives with one of the other stuntmen, "he's an idiot."

---

...

...

...

Parker rolled her eyes, watching the little green message bubble filled with "..." blink yet again on the phone screen before her. It had been repeating this message for the last hour of her life; an hour that she was now never going to get back thanks to the idiot on the other end of the messenger app, and as her neck twitched with a painful crick from the angle she had been staring at her phone, something even more painful burned behind her eyes.

She should probably stop staring at it; could definitely do with some dinner, a nice glass of water, and maybe some Ibuprofen. Wine wouldn't hurt either. Nor would a cigarette, a nice warm shower, and a few hours lying vertical in her bed. Somewhere unplugged, where she didn't give into the temptation to glance at her phone; the very phone in her hand, that she could ever so easily tilt her wrist to see if maybe, in her spiral of misery, he had—

...

"Son of a bitch," she muttered, head thumping none-too-gently against the table.

It hurt a lot more than it should have, but it was cool, too. The scratched up wood smooth against her cheeks as she worked on evening out her breathing. Her neck felt better like this; shoulders too. Hell, it just felt good to lay her head down after the week that she had. Felt nice to let her eyes flutter shut, to let all thoughts turn off, to just breathe in, breathe out, and—

Her phone buzzed, and Parker ripped her head up off the table so quickly the room spun before her.

But whatever hope had caught in her chest fizzled out like a popped balloon upon seeing Colt's name on her screen.

The message read, "I thought we were gonna be sombrero buddies :(" with an attached picture of her brother wearing a sombrero and sunglasses, holding a heavily packed taco, a still smoking grill in the background. She recognized it immediately as the one at Dan's, before remembering that she had been invited over with some of the other boys for tacos and margaritas earlier that week. No wonder her brother looked so put out.

"Son of a bitch," she said a second time.

She meant it, too. Parker was pretty sure that tacos and spicy margaritas was the cure for every ailment in life. Or, you know, the spiritual kind anyway. They certainly didn't help when she broke her arm a few years ago; but they did lift her spirits immensely.

"What the hell is going on over there?" Tom's voice echoed from the other end of the room, and suddenly Parker was reminded that she was not alone in her misery.

She glanced up to find him staring at her with furrowed brows, a hand on the hip of his leather NASA flight suit as Betty and Sasha fiddled with the material. It was his final character testing today, along with the creation of the highly coveted look book, and while her brother wasn't needed for this sort of thing, Parker had jumped at the chance to spend some time with Tom specifically so she wouldn't spend all day thinking about work.

Son of a bitch!

She winced, waving her phone at him. "Oh, just Colt. He invited me for dinner tonight over at Dan's and I totally forgot. He's going to be pissed. He's all alone wearing his sombrero."

"Colt is going to be pissed because he doesn't have anyone to wear a sombrero with?" Tom asked in a scathing tone. She would have corrected him if it wasn't... well, accurate. She loved her brother, but sometimes he got upset over the littlest of things. Particularly when he felt like she was doing something without him. "He does know that he's an adult, doesn't he?"

"Oi, be nice. That's my brother you're talking about."

"You shit on him all the time."

"Well—" she waved a hand around flippantly, flabbergasted at even having to defend against such an accusation. "Duh! He's my brother. But you don't have that right, Ryder, so pack it in before I report you to, like, HR or whatever."

Tom rolled his eyes as Sasha tugged on the length of his right pant leg. It all looked good; professionally made, snug in all the right places, and the perfect backdrop for his bright eyes and shiny teeth. In fact, he looked even better than she thought he had looked before, and Parker was just about to ogle him as he was turned left and right by the seamstresses when her phone buzzed a second time.

She plucked it up, disappointed yet again to see that it was from her brother and not from the eBay seller.

"And what on Earth is with that?" Tom's cloying voice echoed a second time.

She pulled her attention away from her phone long enough to notice the cross furrow of his brows and the tightness of his shoulders.

"With what?" she asked, not sure where this was coming from.

He gestured to her phone, sniffing when his hairstylist teased a few strands of hair off his forehead with a comb. "You've had your nose in that thing since you got here. You have a hot date that I don't know about or something?" he snarked.

And—well.

Parker had to physically bite down on her bottom lip to stop from laughing. Not only would that further piss him off, but with the people in the room, it likely wouldn't be great for his image either. But the idea that Tom—Tom Ryder, the same man whose face was plastered all over town—would be upset that he wasn't given her undivided attention was fucking hilarious to Parker.

Honestly, men. They really were just children.

Smothering out her smile, Parker turned her phone face down against the table. "Okay, alright, I'm sorry. There's this guy over in Wrightwood that has a print shop, or inherited one or his Dad just demolished one or—I don't know," she paused to wave a hand around, earning an eyeroll from Tom. "Whatever. I'm trying to convince him to sell me a box of mystery novels from his collection. He's being unnecessarily difficult about it, though."

"Who is this guy?"

"Melissa's dad's second cousin or something. She showed me his eBay profile last week and he's been dragging me over the coals for the past couple of days about whether he'll sell to me or not. He wants an absurd up-front price that, even if I could pay, I would never pay, but he also hasn't sold anything on eBay before so I think he's getting kind of desperate."

Tom, still cross, but now slightly more interested, arched an eyebrow at her. "Why are you buying stuff off eBay?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Do you think I have a print shop hiding in my apartment? I know you haven't been there yet, but it's not that big. I think it has an occupancy limit of five."

"Five?" he echoed dumbly. To that, she did laugh, but then she glanced back at her phone and realized that she likely wasn't going to get anything good from this idiot even if he did sell to her. As was her lot in life, nothing seemed to work out her way. Knowing this, Parker let her head fall onto the table with a hollow thump, something miserable prickling in the back of her eyes. Maybe that's why he let that particular comment go without any further mocking. There was the shutter of a polaroid camera snapping before he spoke again. "Well, why are you worrying about this now?"

"What do you mean?"

"It's Sunday." She tilted her head sideways on the table to peer over at him. He wasn't mocking her, but given the team of people quite literally fixing his air and clothes for him at the moment, she doubted he understood what she was going through either. "Can't you deal with it later?"

"Like... when I'm busy working at the store?"

"You're always working at the store."

She tutted; half in humor, half about how miserable that statement about her life just was. "Well, duh. That happens when you own a teeny tiny little shop that, for some reason, seems to be actively trying to bankrupt you. I think there's a malevolent spirit the real estate agent didn't tell me about. Or, like, it's built on haunted burial grounds or something. I've broken three lightbulbs this month, and fell off a ladder yesterday just trying to fix the stockroom fan. Which, by the way, I still don't know how it broke, but something is not right with that thing. I don't think they should squeak so much. It sounds like a pig. Or... like a dying cat. It's unsettling."

Tom must have sensed something in her lackluster tone because he almost seemed concerned when he asked, "don't you have employees to do that stuff for you?"

"Uh, employee, singular. And you've met her. And, half the time, I wonder if she isn't the malevolent spirit that's out to make my life miserable," she said. Meant it, too. Just that week Melissa had insulted her style in three different slang terms that Parker had to look up on Urban Dictionary to understand. Honestly, she could handle being "old", what she couldn't handle was having to put work in just to know she was being insulted. That crossed some sort of imaginary line. "Besides, she only works a couple shifts a week, and she's more for cleaning and stocking than real, managerial stuff. Or anything that might require her getting more than two feet off the ground. I'm not paying liability insurance."

He frowned at her oddly. "Don't you have to—?"

"I mean, don't get me wrong, Melissa is great. But she can't do everything, and I can't expect her to do more than she already has as a part-time employee."

"Why don't you hire a manager then?" he asked as if that was a conclusion she hadn't drawn herself.

She might have told him to fuck off for mansplaining right then and there if Tom's question hadn't been spoken in such a earnest manner. Or, as earnest as someone like him could be. Most A-listers like him wouldn't even be giving her the time of day, let alone listening to her problems, and at the very least Parker took some comfort in the thought.

"Good idea, but I think there's about a thousand other things I need to do before I can budget for a manager. Like, I should probably pay off my car at some point. Then get liability insurance. Then get car insurance," she counted off.

Sasha and Betty laughed into their hands, both women just as amused by Parker as the first time, and with another snap of the polaroid camera, the group shifted to making sure the right picture had the right information in the tag book for future reference.

Tom took the reprieve to snag two bottles of water from the mini-fridge before he was sitting down next to her. He wasn't slumping—she didn't think Tom Ryder could slump—but from the weight of his shoulders it was obvious he had been having a long day too.

"You can't afford anyone else?" he asked in spite of that.

Parker uncapped her bottle with a sigh. She didn't even have the energy to be disgruntled by how different their lives were. What he had, he had because he earned it, and Parker made sure to remember that rather than resent that as she took a long dreg of water. "One day I can. Just... not today. I need to have a more steady revenue stream before I can start thinking about anything like that, and to get a more steady revenue stream I have to be willing to work all hours of the day. Even if it's just to haggle with some prick still living in his parent's basement for a box of Hardy Boys books. Turtles on turtles and all that."

"I have no fucking idea what that means," he said, blinking at her, and this time he was so earnest that she couldn't have doubted him even if she tried.

She shook her head with a laugh, already feeling better. "Do you feel like Mexican food after this?"

"Dan's?"

"I have an open invitation," she said. They'll be cool with it if I bring you, she meant. And from the way he pursed his lips, it was obvious that he understood that too. But, he also seemed tired sitting next to her, and Parker could feel that same sort of weariness in her own bones too. "Or... we could get pizza?"

"Pizza is all carbs."

"Mhm, you're right. We should definitely get pizza," she nodded as if he had made a really good point.

"Can you afford that?"

"Are you kidding?" Parker clutched a hand to her chest. "There's always money for pizza. That's like budgeting one-oh-one, Ryder."

He didn't make a comment about how that was probably a stupid way to spend what little money she had, and Parker didn't bring up the fact that she knew he would pay for it later anyway. He always did, even when she made a big deal about wanting to pick up the tab, Tom had yet to let her pay for anything when they were together. She supposed it was easy for him; just muscle memory at this point in his life.

But to her it meant a lot, and she always did her best to make sure he knew that.

Just at the crest of his elbow sat the photographer's polaroid camera, and while the ladies were busy taping everything down and scribbling notes in a variety of pen colors, Parker reached past Tom to grab it.

"I've never had a polaroid camera before."

"Never?"

She picked up the camera, aiming it at Tom, and without hesitating he tilted his head up, eyes down, mouth curving open just a centimeter in that way that looked so effortlessly good that she almost forgot to snap a photo.

"Son of a bitch," she said when it printed, the photo glossy and warm in her hands. "How do you do that? Is that what mewling is?"

"Don't—don't say that," he laughed at her, grabbing the camera from her hands to point it at her. Parker's response was the opposite of his, however, and when the picture printed, it revealed an awkward looking Parker, mouth half open in argument, eyes a little too squinty, hair all sorts of a mess.

"Oh my god!" she shrieked. "Give me that!"

But Tom was faster than she was, and when he tucked the picture into the pocket of his jumpsuit, laughing so heartily that the ladies glanced over at the pair with their own curious smiles, Parker could only catch her face in her hands with a furious blush.

"Tom!" she hissed, smacking him. "It's not funny!"

"You just—it's not—come on, here," he said, shaking his head at her. She was still scowling when Tom grabbed her chair and tugged it by the leg until their thighs were pressed against one another. His body radiated heat as he tossed his free arm over her shoulder, cheek against cheek, and she felt the rumble of his voice more than heard it as he directed her. "Just smile, Park, Jesus. Don't look so stiff."

She tried to shove him off her, only to fail, and as Tom laughed at her, Parker couldn't help but laugh herself.

The photos were crooked, one slightly blurry, and in neither photo were they looking at the camera. And though she still didn't look great, nowhere near as good as him, Tom looked happy in the photos as he laughed.

Parker decided right then that she could live looking like this if he looked like that.

---

Crave Cafe was just as quaint during the off season as it was during the busy summer months, and though it was surprisingly vacant for a Saturday afternoon, the cafe never actually felt empty to Parker. All the tables were dotted with cute decorations, the chairs all stuffed with hand-stitched pillows and dollar-bin cushions that added an eclectic nature to the darkly painted walls, and the jukebox in the corner never failing to fill the lapses of silence with something soothing. For so many reasons this spot had always been one of her favorite places for coffee in LA, and after a long week at work, Parker couldn't help but take a deep whiff of the cinnamon and coffee bean scent that lingered in the air.

"There you are," Harry greeted from behind the counter. He looked a little out of sorts with how empty the place was, the counter spotless and clean from wiping it down too much, and as he grinned at her arrival, Parker was more than happy to be of service to her favorite barista on this side of town. "I was wondering if you'd make it over today."

Parker ambled closer with a tut. "That's almost insulting, Harry, of course I would. It's Saturday, isn't it? What sort of person would I be if I broke tradition with no good reason?"

Harry swung a pink towel over his shoulder, grinning as he started tapping away on his kiosk screen. "The usual, then?"

"Plus, a cookie, please."

"Really living big theses days, huh, Parker?" he teased.

She bent her hip at the counter, watching as she always did as Harry started fiddling with the expensive machines lined behind the counter. She never understood which thing did what, but she did know that anything made by Harry was about to be phenomenal. As steam rushed from one of the metal prongs, she promised herself that one day she would buy a top of the line espresso and latte machine for her kitchen.

Of course, she'd had to learn how to use it, but... well, dreams were dreams for a reason.

"Yeah, well, I always had a weak will when it came to your baked goods. Is this the same recipe as last year, or did you change it up?"

Harry poured her coffee into a to-go cup, twisting the foam at the end to create the image of a leaf, before carefully sliding it towards her. Right before she could grab it, however, Harry pulled the cup back, warning, "I know I say this every time, but it is literally boiling right now, Parker. Don't drink it yet."

She laughed as if that hadn't been exactly what she was about to do. "I know," she said, smiling a little too keenly for his liking. "I won't. Promise."

He didn't seem to trust her, but eventually he gave up and slid the cup towards her side of the counter. The second he moved away she grabbed the cup, finger dipping into the foam—which, of course, was also scalding hot—and to hide the fact that she had just burnt herself, Parker licked some foam off her finger with a bland smile. "I was just... taste testing."

Harry suppressed a sigh to toss her a cold rag, and as Parker cleaned off her finger, he started making Melissa's pumpkin spice latte. "The cookie is a different recipe this time. Marin wanted to try something new, so make sure you tell her what you think. It has nutmeg and hazelnut in it. I think it's a little too much, but Sarah really likes it."

"Nutty," she joked.

"And hopefully good."

Parker waved a hand at him, testing the temperature of the cup once more, before catching Harry's stern look. She tucked her hands before her back with a glittering smile. "I'm sure it'll be amazing. If I get to eat any of it, anyway."

Parker didn't mention the fact that Melissa had a nasty habit of eating any and all pastries she brought into the store without so much as leaving a crumb for her boss to taste. She figured Harry didn't need to know all that information. Besides, on the off chance that Melissa was actually a Gremlin like Colt had theorized, she was still trying to figure out what the rules were for feeding her, and the last thing she wanted was to have Harry cut off their main source of lunch.

As if he understood all that without her having to explain, Harry shook his head at her with a laugh. "Yeah, well, you may as well scarf it down now before you head back over. I know we joke that you're my number one customer, Park, but I would have understood if you didn't have time to stop over today."

Nothing he said had any bearing on the Melissa being a Gremlin vs not debate, and Parker tilted her head at him oddly. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm flattered that you would want to stop in here, but I don't know how you found time to with that whole mess going on. I couldn't even park in my own parking lot this morning, you know that? Kudos to you for finally stealing my customers, but... sheesh. I'll never understand how you pulled this one off."

Huh.

Well, that made even less sense than before and she had quite literally been debating whether her employee was a creature from an 80's fantasy horror series. Sensing that she was missing something important, Parker peered out the front window with a frown. She had noticed a lot of people milling around outside, but she had walked from the post office so she didn't have to deal with traffic, no parking involved. "I'm not—what do you mean?"

It was then that Harry seemed to sense her confusion, and suddenly the pair were sharing matching looks of confusion. "Um... didn't you come here from your shop?"

"No," she said, shaking her head. And while it wasn't unusual for Melissa to take morning shift on Saturdays lately, suddenly, there were a thousand possible scenarios flickering through her mind of all the things that could have gone wrong since Melissa opened that morning. Panic welled in her chest, and Parker tried to laugh through it, struggling to explain herself. "I crashed at Colt's place last night without my phone charger. I dropped it off to charge while I ran some errands, but I came right here to get lunch, so I didn't grab it yet. Melissa was working this morning."

Oh god.

Melissa was working this morning.

"Oh my god," Parker slapped a hand onto the counter, suddenly worried that either her shop was on fire or that her only employee had died. "She's alright, isn't she? Oh my god! I haven't checked my messages yet—!"

"Jesus, no, Parker, it's okay!" he interrupted her before she could have a full blown panic attack in his cafe. He lifted his hands to placate her, and while Parker took a deep breath, she noticed how busy the outside street seemed to be. Awkwardly laughing, he rubbed his forehead. "Nothing's wrong. Definitely not wrong."

"Oh," she said, blood slowly rushing from her head. "Good."

He blinked at her, and Parker blinked right back.

"But then why—?"

There was a ding from the far end of the counter, and Harry gestured at her to wait as he grabbed her to-go bag. She could smell their freshly toasted sandwiches across the counter, and when Harry plucked a cookie out of the display, her stomach twisted in nervous knots.

"No phone," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head at her. "Wow. That's... So, you haven't checked social media or anything today? Or talked to Melissa."

Her reply was a hesitant, "...no?"

Harry stared at her for a long moment, before shaking his head with another, surprised laugh. Like it had been startled out of him. Feeling even more confused, Parker frowned at him helplessly from her side of the counter. "Maybe you should just head over, then. Melissa could probably use the help right about now."

"Help?"

"And, uh, listen if you ever want to do some sort of deal with Crave, I'd love to talk to you about it," he added on as she numbly scrabbled for her credit card. The machine beeped as he continued, "you know, a punchcard sort of thing; buy two books gets fifty percent off coffee here, or something like that. Lots of stuff we could do, really. But we can talk about it later."

"Um... okay?" she nodded, so bewildered that she almost forgot to grab her coffees off the counter. Harry waved at her as she went, and Parker nearly smacked into the glass door as she waved back. "See you later, I guess."

The moment she stepped outside she bumped into a throng of girls standing on their phones, snapping photos. They reminded her a lot of Melissa; dressed in cute outfits, hair done up for the occasion, makeup a tad smeared beneath the eyes from grinning too much.

"Um, excuse me," she called, angling past one of the girl before running into two more identical ones. In fact, when Parker actually picked her head up to look around, she realized that the block was crawling with people. Mostly girls. Teen girls.

Mostly teen girls that seemed to be waiting in a line for—

Parker's coffee hit the sidewalk with a splat.

"Hey!" one of said girls cried at her, angrily shaking coffee stains off of her white sneakers. But Parker didn't notice much of anything she hurried down the block, bag smacking into every third person as she tried to weave through the thread of people. "At least say excuse me!"

The crowd of people got more tightly packed as the line curved, and Parker stopped square in the middle of the street to gape at the sight in front of her.

Every square inch of her store was packed with people. Girls, boys, thirty-year old blondes snapping photos of every angle and squealing delightfully when the picture came out right while their boyfriends hung out front with matching looks of boredom. People were even spilling outside from how crowded it was, and she had to physically push through to step inside.

"What in the f—?"

Parker was just about to owe a ten dollar bill to the swear jar when a familiar head of hair snapped up from the other side of the front counter.

Melissa didn't look much like Melissa. Her curls had fallen over the course of the morning, wayward tufts of frizzy hair tucked behind her ears as she worked on bagging an order. There were flecks of mascara smudged along her cheeks, her lips were lacking their normal peach glossy glaze, and as they made eye contact, she looked half dazed.

"Parker!" she hissed, trying not to sound shrill but definitely not sounding calm. "Where have you been?"

Not knowing what to say, Parker lifted her sandwich bag and latte into the air, helplessly fumbling for words. "I—I was getting us lunch. What is going on here?" she cried, angling behind the counter before someone else was the victim of her wayward coffee. "Is everyone on crack or something? What did you do?"

"What did I do?" Melissa echoed with a scandalized glare, a broken manicure jabbing in Parker's direction as the next person in line awkwardly set their books on the counter. "What did you do? Why haven't you been answering your phone? I've been calling you all morning!"

"It's been like this all morning?"

"Uh, duh!" Melissa shrieked. The noise caught the attention of some nearby customers who looked concerned by the high-pitched noise. In unison, Parker and Melissa smiled at the customers, offering one-handed waves until their attention drifted elsewhere. Stiffly, they started on the next customer's order why talking out of the side of their mouths at one another. "You need to check your phone. Like, right now, Park."

"I can't," she hissed back, still speaking through a smile. Her store had never had this many people in it before, and suddenly she was wondering if she should move liability insurance higher on her list of things. "I left it at home."

"Oh my—" Melissa grunted under her breath, still smiling, and when she finished ringing up her customer, she quickly snatched her phone from her back pocket. The next customer in line seemed annoyed that her attention was taken away, however, and as she fiddled with it, Parker worked through the girl's pile of books. "Honestly. Of all the days that you don't have your phone on you... I mean, it's the twenty-first century, Park! Always have your phone on you!"

"Okay, maybe save the lecture for later," she chirped back as she finished ringing up the order. The girl paid with a credit card, and on she went, receipt waving in hand just as someone else took her place. "Just catch me up with what the hell is going on right now, please."

Melissa's response was an exasperated sigh before she was shoving her phone into Parker's hand, and retaking her spot at the register.

At first, Parker had no idea what she was looking at.

It was a picture on Instagram. A picture of her storefront, taken from across the street, framed to look aesthetically pleasing, and with some sort of boho filter on it that actually made the place look prettier than it really was. A nice picture, definitely, but not a good explanation as to what the hell was going on.

"Why are you showing me a picture of my store? I know what it looks like. I bought it."

Another customer went out the door as two more potential customers stepped inside, and Melissa sighed so heavily Parker was pretty sure they could feel the gust of wind on the other side of her double paned front windows.

"It's not the picture that matter, dummy!" she chirped, still smiling, before she was nudging Parker with her elbow. "Just—look at it!"

Parker was about to give a very childish retort about how she was looking at it, when she actually looked at it. It had received hundreds of thousands of likes since it had been posted last night, and while she clicked on the caption, a flood of new comments were being added by the second.

"Biggest question anyone asks if how do I prepare for an audition," the caption started. "Sometimes, it's easy. Sometimes you got to get your hands dirty and do some reading to get in the mindset of the character. In honor of filming starting this week, here's a s/o to my favorite hole in the wall bookstore in LA."

There was a flurry of hashtags—all ridiculous and stupid and so innately self-centered—that before she even checked the profile, Parker had a very strong feeling about who the original poster was.

Who else had this kind of social media following? Who else could do this?

The profile pic was just as pretty as he was: tomryder

Parker scanned the post a second time. Then a third. Then a fourth. Then, when she still felt like she wasn't processing it right, she glanced up at Melissa.

"Is this...?"

"Yup," the girl said.

"It's—this is his account?"

"Uh-huh," she said again.

Parker slumped against the counter, gaze raking over the horde of customers prodding around her store like it was a damn Barnes & Nobles. No, better. Because this was officially the bookstore that inspired the Tom Ryder for his latest role. NO Barnes & Nobles had ever done that. "This is all because he—"

"It had three hundred thousands likes this morning," Melissa added, not even waiting for Parker to get around to asking about that. And while the teenager seemed like it was no big deal, when she glanced up at her boss, her eyes were sparkling and her mouth was curled at the side. Obviously, her fascination for Tom Ryder had not disappeared. "Yeah. I know."

"This means..."

"That you're officially cool now?" Melissa chirped; somehow scathing and ecstatic at the same time. "Trust me, I know. Our lives just got a whole lot better, Park. I mean—look at this! We're so the coolest people here. I can't wait until school on Monday."

Parker nodded, feeling like her entire body was buzzing, and not quite hearing anything else that Melissa was saying. She just kept seeing the post over and over in her head. She had tried so hard not to need things from Tom, and he had proven time and time again that he was more than happy to give them.

For a long while, she had suspected that doing things for others—throwing parties, picking up the tab, paying for the alcohol—was just natural to him in his life now, a way that he had adapted to Hollywood stardom.

Yeah, you're welcome. I usually get paid twenty grand for doing something like this.

But that didn't quite fit the narrative anymore, did it?

"Excuse me?" a voice called out, interrupting her thinking. Parker blinked to find a twenty-something year old girl staring at her, hands timidly picking at one another. "Um, sorry. Do you have any Frank Herbert books? I looked, but didn't see any."

"Uh... yeah," she hedged, shaking any thoughts she had away. Right now, she would work. Later, she could deal with the rest of it. "Yeah. Right this way and I can show you what we have, and if you don't see any you like, I try to get sci-fi as much as possible so I can try to have new stuff this week. I might even have some extras in the back..."

The din of noise threatened to drown Parker out as she worked with her customer, but no matter how frazzled her tired she was, every time the bell tinkled with someone new coming inside, Parker found herself smiling a little bit brighter.

[rei-ismyname]

Ororo, how did you get here?

I wonder if we'll get a solid, in character explanation for why Storm would become a cop (Avenger) again. I'm writing an analysis on From The Ashes (so far) and while I'm clear-eyed about where most characters and books are at, I really need to know if they're even going to bother explaining why Storm would leave Arakko (oh yeah, there's still a million mutants on the red planet) and if they do to what degree. Sure she can just bail off screen but it'd be deeply out of character. She's a member of the Great Ring (or at least she was, occupying Magneto's empty Seat of Loss after she yielded the Regency to Lodus Logos.) She's the most impactful political and cultural figure in a generation. She was the leader of the winning faction in the Genesis War. She had a lover, who was caring for two orphans. I think they were living together. She was happy. I can't recall any ties to Atlanta, but it doesn't really matter. Without serious explanation she's going to look fickle, like she's shirking her duty. A duty she chose, too. Fought multiple wars over. She's getting a solo book, there's totally room to do it properly.

The other big ting for me is Magneto. The First Krakoan age put him through the ringer - his character arc was objectively given the most attention and subjectively the most satisfying. Even without Uncanny X-Men #700 he was poised to shake up the status quo but when you include his chat with Charles that's a promise. A promise that needs to be paid off. Not just any old promise either - it's an ideological breakthrough five decades in the making! He's been kept in the background so far and I haven't really been able to judge whether that promise is being kept or not. I hope so but my expectations are low. It would be such tonal whiplash I can't even think of an analogy.

Interestingly both Max and Ororo were Of Arakko last time we got a close look. Magneto died defending Arakko, he has friends there. He is literally one of the society's heroes for slaying Tarn the Uncaring and The Hour Of Magneto/Judgement Day.

Yeah, that's right. *AIR HORN* *PUMPS FIST* He cares about the Arakki and they care about him. He'd want to pay his respects to the Fisher King and generally see how it's going. He lost his place on the Great Ring when he died and Vulcan blew up his house, but neither are especially important. Both planet and culture are dear to him. After X of Swords, in that brief period when the Arakki were on Earth, it was Magneto meeting with Isca about teething problems. 'Twas Magneto who spearheaded the Terraforming Operation, handling the communication/logistics and harvesting enough iron to bring the planet to life from the Khyber Belt. While he was doing that, Ororo was fighting Nameless to the death for the Noontide Seat.

I could honestly go on, but my point is these two especially are invested. (Roberto Da Costa too, but it seems the New Mutants are represented by Magik alone and Cypher looking like an idiot.) If that continuity is disregarded I'm going to have a problem with it. Honestly, if Arakko is there and not being used in any stories I'll be scratching my head. How do you go from terraforming planets to hated and feared on Earth as anything other than a regression? The geopolitical implications of it being there pretty much break the world they're selling us. They're telling us it's so dangerous for mutants that they're developing secret hand signals and Underground Railroad'ing. At least some mutants would move to fucking Mars. All countries would be at Defcon 1. Did the entire galactic council just forget Sol exists?

I'll stop there, save some for the actual essay instead of the rant lol. If you're enjoying it I couldn't be happier for you. I am struggling to, though, and I'm very wary of heartbreak. Maybe that's on me for how I manage my expectations. We shall see.

[cyten0]

A Symphony in Crimson

Act 1: A Movement in Black

Chapter 15

You’ve chatted around town. And found a consistent theme.

Many of them wanted to save Vaugarde. In hindsight, that should have been obvious. But that doesn’t help explain what's going on! But another thing caught your attention…. You’d best talk with Loop about this.

✸ “Welcome back, Stardust! Looks like you have some thoughts?”

You sit next to loop

✦ “They wished for the king to be defeated, but we did that, so that still isn’t right. However. Someone mentioned that Euphrasie was asking around about the same thing.”

✸ “You think she knows something?”

✦ “Yes. Moment I heard about that I started asking a bit more. Apparently she even recommended favor trees to people. I think she might have some insights.”

✸ “If she did, it might be worth asking her about it. Hopefully she can stay out of that strange state long enough to tell you something.”

✦ “Right. Might be worth double checking elsewhere first. I’ll drop by her office next time, see if I can find anything.”

✸ “Sounds like a plan! Now then, another meal before you go?”

Right... You... No, you don't need it. You need to stop.

✦ “I… Can we not do that corpse this time?”

Loop looks at you for a bit. Judging you.

✸ “… Very well~ You should be good for now! We did feed you a bunch recently! Though I’m afraid that means I can’t get much for you right now, given the sadnesses I would grab are already infected, and you’ll get those rather soon anyways.”

You nod. You knew that would be the case.

But… You can’t do human anymore. It might be tasty, but that’s the problem. You’re starting to get used to it. You can’t afford to get used to it. For it to feel normal.

Or you’ll be too tempted. Tempted to cross that line, just to buy yourself a few days.

✸ “Good Luck! We’re getting close, Stardust.”

>>>

You're grabbing the key in the kitchen. Making your way through. You don’t want to waste hunger looping ahead right now. Not when you’re FINALLY cutting yourself off of human.

Ah stars, you bumped into the counter again. Wait. Did something… tear?

The others gasp. You look down.

Oh no. You… your disguise is too weak at this point, too fragile. You just haven't had the nutrients to make it work. The fake skin and outfit just. Snagged. And ripped.

◉ “Siffrin! Are you Okay?!? Your Leg looks hurt!”

◆ “Is your condition getting worse? Let me take a-”

✦ “NO!”

You quickly try and put it together before they can see. See your monster body underneath. But it just. Won’t. Go. Back!!!

◆ “Gems, don’t be stubborn, just let me-!!”

Blind it all she saw! Nononononono-

《

...You round the counter more carefully this time.

You… Can’t keep this up much longer. Every part of your guise has become troublesome. Your expressions, your voice, your body, your skin. You looked in the mirror back at the clocktower and could FEEL the monster underneath. It’s all coming apart at the seams.

...It’s fine. You just need to fix this mistake, and then it won’t matter… You just… if only you could stay for even one more day…

It’s fine. Keep moving. Keep them safe. That’s your one purpose now. The ONE thing you can still do. Keep your family safe.

>>>

There. Finally. Euphrasie’s Office. You search their desk. There must be something…

Here we go! A list. Filled with names, and checks with one column being save vaugarde. Perfect, she was looking into it! There has to be more…

A notebook. You look through quickly. Alright, it says she was looking into wishcraft, after noticing people were wishing at the favor tree. Someone in the house mentioned it offhandedly. She couldn’t read the books on it, but she figured maybe it could still help. So she helped encourage people worried to go to the favor tree.

Hm. So not a lot of knowledge. But. It’s something. It means she had invested time into it. Maybe she knows more then this notebook tells.

You need to talk to her. See if you can get her to talk this time.

>>>>

The king is dead once more. You want to talk to your family first, before anything else.

You talk to Bonnie first. It goes about the same until...

✿ “...So, um…. D-Do you want a snack or something Frin?”

✦ “Sure!”

You're always hungry.

✿ “Okay, I have… well, I’m kinda short on snacks, you ate a lot of them before. So I only have pineapple slices. A croissant. And a half eaten apple.”

Pineapple is never happening. Croissants remind you of that one survivor. So only one option, really.

✦ “I’ll take the apple.”

✿ “Ew…”

You don’t care at this point. Food is food. Even if non-meat like this will barely cover the effort of digesting it. You don’t care. As long as it's not them.

You eat the whole thing in one bite. Bonnie seems a little surprised you managed that. But it’s fine.

✿ “...Frin… Are you okay?”

✦ “Yeah, why?”

✿ “… I dunno. I’m just askin. But if you say you're okay, then it’s true, I guess.”

You thank them, and wave goodbye. They already know about the pineapple slices this time, so you don’t need to remind them. Not that it matters.

You talk to Mirabelle. Assure her. Lie to her. Then.

◉ “Do you feel better now?”

✦ “What about you Mira?”

Your happiness doesn’t matter. It never did.

◉ “M-Me? Well, I’m better now but. I was asking about you!”

✦ “I’m good.”

◉ “Okay… Siffrin... do you remember, a few weeks ago, when I asked you if you liked being on this journey?”

It's been a while, but you've been doing your best. Making sure to hold those memories. The one thing you still can.

✦ “Yeah, why?”

◉ “Back then, you said… You said that being on this journey was the happiest you remember being. Is that… Still true? Are you still happy?”

You wish you could be. You remember every moment of your journey so fondly. You love them all so dearly. If only you could travel with them for even a single extra day. Be human for them for even one more day...

✦ “…Yes. Of course I do. I wouldn’t take back a second of it.”

◉ “… That’s good. I’m glad for that.”

You wave and move on.

You talk to Odile. Dream of going to Ka Bue with her at some point. Feel bad for hoping.

◆ “...Siffrin, are you alright?”

✦ “Yeah, why?”

◆ “It’s just… You’ve been acting off since yesterday. More withdrawn, mostly. Just… Do you want to talk about it?”

✦ “I’m good.”

Stars you hope you’ve not done anything to catch her eye this time.

◆ “...Very well. Just. Let me know when you want to talk. Preferably before we part ways. I’m more then willing to.”

You nod, pretending you’ll take them up on that, just to assure them. You can’t afford to tell them anything. You don’t want them angry at you.

You talk to Isa. Listen to them nearly say it, yet again, but never go through with it. What you wouldn’t give to hear it. What guilt you feel for wanting that.

▲ “...But really, are you Okay?”

✦ “Why do you ask?”

▲ “I don’t know, you’ve had a weird vibe ever since yesterday. So, I’m just hoping you’re all good. Are you?”

✦ “...Yeah.”

▲ “Okay, Good!… I mean, I don’t believe you for a second but we can talk about it tonight. Take your time!”

...Oh Isa. Always caring about you. About everyone. You don’t deserve their love. You're horrible for even letting them.

You nod and leave. Part of you wants to keep this all going. Stay with them longer, even if it has to be in this twisted fantasy. But you know you can’t do that to them. Know that even as you have eternity in your hands, you would not survive it.

It’s time to talk to Euphrasie.

◎ “Traveling one! I’d like to thank you for accompanying Mira-”

✦ “Sorry, bit of a rush. You were looking into wishcraft, right?”

◎ “Oh, yes! I noticed a lot of people were wishing for Vaugarde to be saved, so I thought it worth checking. I suppose maybe it…"

◎ “...!!!”

Oh no! Nononono you were so close you need to find what she knows!

◎ “Oh… Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no, no…”

✦ “No, stay with me!! Come on I need your help!”

◎ “I-I’m so sorry! There’s no way we can stop it now…!”

BLIND IT ALL!!!

Fine. You don’t have a choice. Time to cross one more line.

You take your claw, and jab it into the back of her neck.

You latch onto her brain-stem, and reach into her mind. There. You can feel it, the force creeping in, scattering her thoughts. You drown it out with your song.

◎ “W-What-!?”

✦ “Can you hear me? Can you talk? Please, before it ends, I need to know! Tell me whatever you can, so I can fix this!!”

Her eyes look at you. For the first time. She’s in clarity. She’s in fear. And… She’s still crying.

◎ “I… It’s too late! I don’t know whats going on! I barely know anything of wishcraft! I just. I know, or knew, that something went wrong… I… I don’t know why! All of Vaugarde wished for a savior. And… It must have done something! Made sure it would happen but...”

… Wait... Oh. Oh no.

◎ “None of us knew how to do it right, none of us knew the ritual! It must have broke something, or maybe someone wished for this, I don’t know, I don’t know, I… I’m so sorry!! I should have stopped them, should have prevented this, I-!”

✦ “NO."

She looks at you, confused.

✦ "It… It’s my fault.”

You get it now. You get why it’s wrong. Because

✦ “I wished for something impossible. And I knew the ritual. But it got mixed with yours. I… I’m sorry.”

◎ “W-What?”

You look her in the eyes. With your real eyes. Your monster eyes. The eyes of the thing you’ve been trying to escape this whole time. The thing your wish needs you to escape from. That it’s been far, far too late to hide from….

✦ “I wanted to be human for them. For just a little longer. But I can’t."

She gasps in horror. As she should.

✦ “By the time I reached this point… It was to late. And now… I’m sorry… If I had TOLD people the ritual, if I had wished for anything else, if I managed to finish this faster, Blind it all even if I had the decency to DIE on that blinding island like all the rest, then maybe, just MAYBE that wish could have saved you!!!! But...”

You hug her, as her panicked tears run down your cloak. You failed her. You failed them all. Your worst sin, the most horrible thing you ever did, has come back in a brand new form.

You ruin everything you care about. And now, it's too late to die to stop it. You aren't even allowed that luxury.

✦ “I-I ruined another country again. Destroyed another home. I… I’m so sorry. I… I’m so sorry!!! I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m sorry!!!”

◎ “I- But-”

You feel the sugary scent start to close in, as the world starts to fall apart.

✦ “I just hope. That one day, you all will have the chance to forgive me.”

《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《

[lemotmo]

Thought I would share what Ali posted because you're probably going to get a asks about it as well. I hate these people so much.

Q. In case you haven't heard there are now apparently a few of them who have made blogs pretending to be Buddie shippers and are harassing the cast and crew and making all kinds of homophobic comments to them. They're even throwing in anti Tommy comments to make sure they believe it's coming from Buddie fans. One got found out earlier and just erased the entire blog when they were confronted. I have a feeling things are about to get really bad.

Q. They're now disguising themselves as Buddie shippers, creating blogs and harassing the crew and the BTS blog. We might be about to lose all the BTS stuff because apparently they're freaked out now that maybe he really isn't coming back and so they want to make all the BTS stuff go away so no one gets anything and Buddie fans get the blame.

Q. They started circulating the old Instagram Iive Jennifer did saying Buddie wasn't going to happen and their fans needed to get over it. They're upset that she unfollwed Lou and what her sent hate comments from Buddie fans. The good news is anyone who's been here for more than a year remembers that video and knows she was messing around, but it will still get her comments especially from the one of them pretending to be Buddie fans. Guys the show might really pull all BTS content. They're making it impossible for everyone involved in the show. I hate these people.

Q. They've turned their anger on Jennifer now. They're circulating the old love video and leaving hate comments to make it look like Buddie fans are the ones attacking her. The video is OLD guys. She was messing around. We all know this. No one leaves a comment on it!

A. Unfortunately we all probably figured this was eventually where all of this was headed. They're out of plays. They don't have anything left. I have received tons of messages from people saying these same things. The good news is it was apparently fairly easy to find and figure out that one blog so chances are the others are going to be easy to find as well. As for the BTS content, sadly, they may put a stop to things for a while, until they can see if things have calmed down a bit. But that would be giving the crazies what they want so I don't know that they'll do that. But we might see less content for a bit. They're not getting what they want so they are going to ruin as many things as possible for as many people as possible. Yes the Jennifer video is quite old, Absolutely no one should be falling for it or leaving comments of any kind. DO NOT post about the video on your Tumblr page or your Twitter account. Ignore it. Do NOT help with the circulation of it. I'm sure Jennifer will adopt the same approach her cast mates have and just block and ignore. Everyone listen. I know they're making it very difficult to not engage but everyone has to STOP now. I'm not going to respond to anymore asks from them. I'm not going to engage with them at all. Everyone should stop. Don't give them the attention they're begging for. I know it's difficult, but don't. They've been given enough attention. Their ime is up. Now we treat them like they deserve. No attention. No interaction. No taking the bait. Leave lovely comments on any and all BTS content and crew related items and nothing more. It is increasingly apparent that he might actually be off the show so things are going to get far worse in the coming weeks. I still think he will show up but the picture that is currently being painted certainly suggests he's gone, so their tantrum is only going to get worse. I get tons of hate. Tons. I don't post it. I don't react to it. Just ignore it please. Obviously I would never tell anyone else how to run their blog but we have been helping them amplify their nonsense and now we need to stop. They are way more regular 911 fans and Buddie shippers than there are of them. The truth is they need us to spread their garbage and we need to collectively stop helping them.

0_° They are doing what?

😩

Why am I not surprised?

I agree fully with Ali here!

Don't reblog hate messages to respond to with more hate. Don't respond to the rage bait posts. Don't respond to hate messages you get in your inbox.

I get daily hate in my inbox, but I immediately delete and block. It isn't worth responding to, because it will only create more anger and hate. It will make our fandom an ugly place. Let's not let that happen!

Post positive messages! Post theories and speculations! Post fun Buddie stuff! Post lovely art and fic! Post lovely comments to Buddie fics and art!

Leave lovely, respectful and polite comments on any bts video, photograph, crew photograph... you see. Keep it clean and nice. Let's not sink to the same level here.

We are talking about a TV-show with fictional characters. It isn't worth all this fandom wank! It isn't worth getting worked up over this kind of behaviour. It isn't worth responding with hate to a hate message. Let's not shine a spotlight on these stans' hateful messages. It's only a handful of them at this point. If they get no attention, their hate messages won't be shared. And that is what we want.

So let's stay calm and just keep on peacefully shipping Buddie. The odds are very much in our favour for season 8. All the signs are there. Let's just focus on that and ignore the toxicity these stans are trying to inject into the Buddie fandom.

It won't be long now. Let's focus on that.

IMPORTANT! Please don't repost this ask and/or a link that leads straight to my Tumblr account on Twitter or any other social media. Thank you!

Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.

Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.