#genuinely the inspiration this AU provides is so powerful!!

[kayzean]

YEAH. I NEEDED A WALLPAPER WITH THEM. HERE WE ARE. I CRY. ITS SO BEAUTIFUL. /pos

Happy one and a half weeks to @keferon Apocalyptic Ponyo AU!!!!

PLEASE click for better quality!!!

Don't repost to other socials thanks!

[south-sea]

fooling around with this guy's design some, because i realized i can't actually call him a metal sonic

it's Complicated because in terms of character, he's meant to be an alternate of second chance metal, so in my mind he registers as the same core character. but in this AU, he's not made by eggman, much less even in the image of sonic, and at that point that's literally not even metal sonic anymore, that's just an OC. so while i don't claim this to be an ~original design~ or anything, tagging him as the character feels disingenuous, so i'm going with "metal medic" from here on out.

some expanded design notes on this guy:

"bigger ears and rounded corners": he's made in the image of shadow purely for the sake of being his caretaker/companion. the goal was to provide someone his size/general shape to help keep him comfortable. (someone in the tags of a previous post about this AU likened him to baymax and tbh that is Exactly the intended vibe. you get me.)

"no use for a turbine or even a back jet"/"padded finger tips instead of claws": originally i had in mind that he'd still have a much smaller jet or something on his back, but the more i thought about it, the less necessary that seemed. given his role is that of a caretaker, he was not designed with speed or combat in mind. at most, he's got built-in heelys just to be a little quicker than average and not make a huge racket as he's walking through the halls and such.

"made from cheaper material with crude plating": the resources available to his creators were not up to the same standard as the regular sonic universe. it's a wonder he functions at all. he's scrapped together with visible bolts, flimsy hinges, uneven plating, and his power depletes incredibly fast. they had limited options when it came to color, hence the lack of red to mimic shadow's stripes (much less the medical cross tackily slapped right there on his forehead).

(i did take some inspiration from my own shadow android design, such as the bulkier arms, but it's surprisingly difficult to design a robot made in the image of shadow, that still reads like an alternate metal sonic, without making him look exactly like a shadow android or just regular metal sonic. like, at his core he's still supposed to be "second chance metal but to the left", so looking like regular metal is still kind of intentional, it's just, his background is so completely removed from canon that it's weird to still call him a metal sonic, you know?)

in terms of personality/function:

he's considerably more Robot than even canon metal, in that he's coded to operate within a specific set of parameters and limited free will. he has his purpose and goals already predetermined, and his feelings are more or less the same. so, contrary to second chance metal, he is fully obligated to care for his shadow and knows nothing else.

his logic is more akin to gemerl's in that he takes his objectives very literally. when he finally decides it's in the best interest of shadow's health to escape the facility with him, it comes from a place of logic, though it can be argued there's also genuine care/warmth there, just like gemerl's bond with cream. his creators maybe shouldn't have coded him with such a strong sense of care for shadow if they didn't want to be betrayed. (or maybe that's exactly what they intended :) who knows)

given he's meant to be a more personable caretaker, he's considerably more expressive both in gestures and eye animations. he's more "playful" than "bubbly", and more "careful" than "patient".

he isn't incapable of causing harm in the interest of protecting shadow, and it's not like it goes against his coding to cause harm in general, but he's not very good at fighting. shadow is very much the actual protector in this case; metal tends to get underfoot more than not once they're free.

he is completely mute and has no means to communicate beyond simple nods/head shakes/thumbs up or downs. he was not coded with the capacity to learn sign language or emulate words. in general, his coding does not allow for the same depth of self-learning like canon or second chance metal.

[memryse]

The magic of 3rd Life, or why such a simple hardcore miniseries works as well as it does

For a series which only lasted for eight sessions, 3rd Life has had a profound impact on the MCYT fandom. While it did go comparatively unnoticed on Twitter (as is consistent with YouTube-based Minecraft content as a whole, admittedly), Tumblr and other platforms have fallen in love with this series, and it’s become a vector for many fans to familiarise themselves with Hermitcraft and Empires SMP as well. But at its core, 3rd Life is a simple vanilla survival series with a gimmick. What about it resonates so much with so many people?

I would argue that its simplicity, its small cast, its vanilla gameplay “with a twist” is certainly part of it. It’s an easy series to consume, with many POVs totalling four hours or less, and it doesn’t require any prior knowledge of any of the members. Its mechanics are easy to understand. As a standalone, it functions perfectly – it’s immersive and can be followed easily by anyone, regardless of any prior knowledge they may or may not have. However, these factors alone don’t quite encompass what makes 3rd Life so special. Its true charm point lies in the format of the series, and how well it utilises improv.

[more below the cut; this is a fairly long post about 3rd/Last Life meta and my love of its improv. I'm mostly talking about 3rd Life here as it's a completed series, but this most definitely does apply to Last Life as well]

3rd Life is an entirely improv-based series. Whilst members may have a brief concept of the direction they’d like to take their series in – how heavily they want to roleplay, for example – the actual content of each session is fully improvised. Each episode is recorded in one three-hour block, and members are not allowed to play on the server outside of the allotted time other than specifically to finish builds. This time constraint prevents any planning from going into each episode, and interactions between players are completely spontaneous. Players simply run around the map looking for others to interact with (which is significantly easier with the limited world border) and chat about various events on the server, form alliances or deals, etc.

By definition, this almost completely negates the possibility of bad writing. Each player’s reaction to any server event is spontaneous, a legitimate reaction; they aren’t trying to play any specific roles or shoehorn in any specific events (with the exception of the Red King/Hand of the King roles, who were still completely improvising). Even the finale – a distinctly heart-wrenching and tragic scene – was improvised without Grian or Scar attempting to tell any specific story. According to Martyn, they weren’t roleplaying, they didn’t have any aims with that scene. It just happened to turn out in the way that it did, and they were legitimately sorry to one another. The server progressed in this natural way, and every person’s perspective tells a completely different story. It’s hard to identify any specific heroes or villains – fans of the Dream SMP can surely relate to this feeling, but I would argue that 3rd Life takes this one step further. 3rd Life is a tragedy from all perspectives, a tragedy which tells one cohesive story in its entirety before stopping as abruptly as it began.

3rd Life hinges entirely on its interactions between its members. Whilst solo content does exist – base building, for example – the majority of each session is spent interacting with others. 3rd Life is carried by its dialogue; nothing else drives the story, and yet many episodes are between 30 minutes and an hour long. It’s that dialogue-heavy. Members of the server have expressed trouble with even editing their videos because there is so much key dialogue that they don’t want to cut. People don’t watch 3rd Life for the actual gameplay, at all – there’s so little of it! They watch it for how each member interacts with the people around them. This is something not found in any other SMP I’ve encountered. SMPs livestreamed on Twitch have plenty of downtime, and people will happily watch streams on that SMP no matter what’s occurring on the server; people often watch them for their interest in specific members. Other currently popular YouTube SMPs, namely Hermitcraft and Empires, are well-balanced between solo content and interactions, and all server content hinges on the members’ various skills like building and redstone. 3rd Life is, to my knowledge, the only SMP which does not rely on building or redstone skills (what’s the point, when they’ll be dead the next week?), it doesn’t rely on the creator doing solo work talking to their chat, it doesn’t rely on planned roleplay. People legitimately just want to hear various members talking to each other. It’s a fascinatingly unique series in this regard. This dialogue-heavy aspect of 3rd Life ties back to my earlier point about 3rd Life feeling like a completely different series from all perspectives; with all of this dialogue being conveyed through proximity chat, so many events are entirely left out of other POVs, or presented in very different lights.

The pure improv format also helps significantly with worldbuilding, whilst also leaving plenty to the imagination. MCYT fandoms always require a significant amount of imagination to become invested in them, let alone make fan content of them, and 3rd Life is no exception to this. As discussed in this post, which was incidentally the inspiration for me to write this one, 3rdLife is full of lines which flesh out the series, which illustrate what happened better than can be shown in Minecraft. These lines are improvised on the spot, and are often complete throwaway lines in the creators’ eyes. In the fans’ eyes, they make 3rd Life feel alive, they provide plenty of material on which to base headcanons. Again, this isn’t necessarily unique to 3rd Life, it’s a common aspect of all Minecraft series, but I think this is where the rather angsty nature of 3rd Life comes into play. A dramatic survival game, entirely unscripted, with all events hinging entirely on your interpretation of them? It’s not hard to see why 3rd Life fans are so creative with character designs and fanfiction – hell, a lot of 3rd Life fics simply narrate canon in their own more dramatic light. Canon-compliant fics are significantly more common for 3rd Life than other fandoms I've encountered, because people hear these simple lines and want to dramatise them, put their own spins on them. I don't feel that this would be possible with any other series, not to the extent that 3rd Life fans do it. Other series' canon is either already dramatic, and so rehashing it can feel repetitive, or so lighthearted that people write AUs/new storylines. 3rd Life strikes a brand-new balance.

The development of its characters is also bolstered by improv. As no events on the server are pre-planned, members have to react completely spontaneously to anything that occurs. They don’t get time to think – only to react as though they genuinely were in that situation. As I said at the start, 3rd Life inherently lacks bad writing, because it’s not written. Ren, for instance, began 3rd Life as a kind and harmless person, with others often walking right over him. His reaction to his death by Grian and Scar’s trap spurs him to become the Red King; he raises an army and goes to war, and ends the series having taken countless lives, becoming hardened by war. He begins Last Life by isolating himself from others, seeming jaded and unwilling to form alliances, ready for another war to break out. Being improvised, it’s impossible to say how much of this was deliberate, or if Ren just started building his base without thinking about continuity from the previous season. This improv is what makes it feel so natural. It isn’t planned beforehand. This is Ren’s natural reaction to starting Last Life. It makes his character feel so much more real than it would if this was all scripted beforehand.

3rd Life is, overall, a testament to the power of improv. It manages to be compelling and dramatic without any acting feeling forced or wooden. Its characters’ arcs feel natural, because they are natural. Placing such a heavy emphasis on dialogue, with the gimmick of the server being a vehicle for interactions to happen rather than the sole appeal of the series, makes it truly feel as though we’re getting a glimpse into the characters’ lives, rather than watching a story which has been written beforehand. We get to watch everything unfold in real time. 3rd Life has a magic to it that, to my knowledge, no other SMP has been able to recreate.

[nana-dear]

royal reader headcanons

synopsis — The King and Queen of a vast kingdom died in an unfortunate accident. Leaving their firstborn as the sole ruler… But they are so young and inexperienced, the perfect candidate for someone to secure the throne quickly. However, feelings may get in the way of the plan.

characters — Riddle Rosehearts & Leona Kingscholar

note — Sort of noble au

another note — Not me publishing something and disappearing an entire month. I swear I'm not obsessed with Leona and Riddle, it's just the ones that gave me more inspiration. I'll be writing for more characters ˚ᆺ˚)

He is from a noble family that’s been loyal to the actual government for generations. However, the Roseheart’s are still considered to be below other aristocrats, and the crown refuses to give them more important positions.

But your kingdom has a lot of territory and riches. Maybe it’s time for the noblemen to prove themselves and bring the crown new subjects.

Miss Roseheart is convinced her son is the best contender. Although young, he is way wiser than those old men from the court. She establishes her expectations from the moment she is setting a carriage to your kingdom.

Taking advantage of a grieving person is certainly cruel. But you must know by now, don’t you? Life isn’t fair for people like you.

Without the monarchs, everyone with a certain amount of power is trying to get rid of you. So Riddle truthfully believes you sort of understand his reasons and doesn’t feel guilty.

Riddle stands out from the rest of fortune hunters who try to swift you away with sweet talk and empty promises. But it would be a lie to say you weren’t startled the first time you spoke with the redhead.

“I’m interested in this kingdom,” he said, “if you allow me, I would like to give some advice.”

He was straightforward with his intentions (or that’s what you thought). Other people disguised themselves as a shoulder to cry in, but Riddle shared his goals without sugar coating.

Of course, he was seeking his own interests, but he understood he needed to get your trust before convincing you to give away your position.

He is so knowledgeable about your kingdom's culture, it’s history, and the inner-functioning of the palace (this man doesn’t go unprepared). So he serves as an excellent non-official advisor.

You soon provided him a seat in the court, and his comments are always taken into account.

Before a big decision, you always go to him.

And during meetings, if someone tries to twist your words or push you into self-interested decisions, he exposes them immediately.

To put it in different words: he has utmost control. Everything that’s discussed privately ends up in a letter to his superiors.

Enemies just grow against him, but everyone knows your liking for him. The ones that were bold enough to make accusations against him are now on a black list.

Riddle was so sure it was a sort of mutual agreement between you two. Understanding that you both needed something from the other. That’s why he gets so confused when you start being vulnerable around him.

He knows all the rumours about you. The pitiful heir who can’t stand their ground. A weak child without the character to lead a nation. “There’s no way a royal can’t handle something like this”, he used to believe.

But you didn’t calculate each word exchanged with the others, nor had cards up your sleeve. You were a genuinely scared child who understood was entangled in a sea of ill-intended people, but didn’t know how to protect themselves.

You cried a lot in front of Riddle, most of the time not intending to.

Sometimes you drag him out of the palace to meet all of your favorite places. And when you notice him getting stressed about something, you make sure to sit with him to drink tea. The way you started referring to him as a friend didn’t go unnoticed.

The guilt is eating him alive. He can’t even sleep at night because his only dreams are about you finding out everything.

But his mother’s letters keep coming. He can’t just abandon everything.

He wonders if he should be honest. You are so caring after all. And then what? He leaves as if he hadn’t put you and your people in danger?

The officials of his kingdom are getting impatient. A war is about to explode soon.

Riddle knows that even if you give your position without a fight, foreign leaders won’t hesitate to murder you. You’ll have to disappear.

One day he enters your chamber unannounced, with a gloomy look on his face.

He tells you to not worry from now on, because he’ll take care of you. You know there’s something he isn’t mentioning, but you do not dare to ask. And whatever he is hiding, you trust him. He would never try to hurt you...

This is his best chance to become king, and he won’t ignore it.

After the death of your parents, the economic situation has gone downhill. Everyone is pushing the next in line to leave their position. Citizens believe someone with better experience should be on the throne.

Great part of the previous fortune was lost because of your poor decisions.

Other nations won’t get involved because the kingdom is far away in the sea. A large island that takes at least six months to get on a ship. It’s not worth the resources.

Leona trusts quite a lot in his own abilities. Once you two get married, he’ll stabilize the kingdom.

And since he comes from one of the most prestigious families, the public opinion is that he is the best way for you to redeem your chaotic mandate.

Your advisors, however, don’t share that idea.

It’s going to be more difficult than he expected. You are supervised all the time, and everyone in the royal court won’t stop telling you to kick him out of the palace.

Well, he certainly isn’t leaving without a fight.

One day, you are drawn out of the castle to the main plaza by a lot of noise.

The citizens are reunited, Leona in the center, and everyone has this fascinated look on their face.

He’s amazing the crowd with the stories of his journeys around the world. Answers every question with special patience and even has items to prove his tales.

That fang he carries around his neck? A treasure from his homeland, from the ancient beasts they used to fight against. Each of his bracelets are a present from different aristocrats around the world. Have you heard about the Valley of Thorns? The prince sent him one. Oh, his scar? He can’t tell that story with the children here…

He also shows his skill with magic. He promises to teach it to those who are interested. Why don’t you have a magic school here, anyway?

Your royal sentinels immediately bring you back to the castle when all the gazes turn to you.

During the next days, Leona is the nation’s hot topic. He is so knowledgeable and so humanitarian. People stop him in the streets to shake his hand and ask questions about his magnificent kingdom.

The court may not approve of him, but he has gained the full support of the people.

But that’s not enough. He has to shift the impression you have of him if he truly wants to secure the throne.

And since he can’t get close when you are out of your room, he’ll just have to get in your room.

You were preparing to get into bed when a crash distracted you. There he was, sitting on the balcony as if he was your guest.

“What a coincidence to find you here, don’t you think?” he said before walking into the room and taking a seat.

Both of you looked at each other, Leona with a subtle smirk and you with absolute shock… You are on the sixth floor. How in the world did he just climb?

“Are they true?” you finally broke the silence, “all the things you say about your trips.”

“I have certainly traveled to the places I have claimed to be in.”

Consumed by curiosity, you started asking more questions about the outside world. He told you about magnificent landscapes you had only seen in paints, about his kingdom, and the incredible fairy tales each culture had.

He couldn’t help but laugh at the faces of your companions every time he crossed paths with you and you cheerfully invited him to join. (Which, of course, he always accepted.)

He kept making jokes during the tea parties and while everyone gave him a disapproving look, you always laughed.

Each night he would come into your chambers to narrate you a new adventure.

But things couldn’t be so easy. Unknown to him, a nobleman had left the land soon after he arrived. Six months later, he returned to the island with unpleasant news.

You are dining when your loyal servant appears with a mischievous grin. He sits at your side and starts talking unabashed about everything he learned during his trips.

Even after you ask him to stop, he continues speaking about the second prince and how everyone in his kingdom deems him as a lost cause.

Of course Leona punches him.

Everyone is so distracted trying to get him off the poor man that your absence remains unnoticed.

When things cool down, Leona realizes that what most bothers him is that you now know. He is not worried about the snarky comments of the court; he is worried you’ll never forgive him.

He goes to look for you, but the moment he finds you, he feels so nervous. Is he supposed to apologize? What he should say-

“All of you think I’m an idiot,” your voice interrupts his thoughts. “I know everyone plots against me in my court. My advisor constantly tries to make me do or say stupid things. Since the moment you arrived, I always knew your intentions! But at least, I figured out that if I had to marry someone to save my situation, it would be someone trustworthy... ”

It’s never been easy for him to console a crying person.

“Fire them,” he says when your sobbing quiets a little, “and expose all the shady movements they have done. Everyone is going to try to save themselves by outing the other ones. Your are not dumb, but they know you are not strong enough to do something about everything they do to you. You need to show them you can and will defend yourself.”

That’s the last piece of advice you heard from him before he left. Next day you didn’t have the chance to say goodbye before someone told you he had already taken a ship to his homeland.

During the next year, news of your kingdom keeps arriving. Everyone was surprised at the sudden rearrangement of your government. Soon, the previous court got replaced. Your nation became a self-providing one rather than desperately looking for commerce with foreigners.

Leona is astonished when an invitation arrives for a ball that you are organizing in order to celebrate the success of your kingdom. And everyone is pleased knowing that since you started investing resources in magic investigation, the trip to the island is now way easier.

Each nation sent at least a representative. And everyone is so excited to share words with the young ruler.

He ended up going because he really wanted to see you. But once there, he couldn’t find the way to approach you. Is honestly such a weird event to see him this awkward.

You are the one who invited him to dance.

While the music goes, you keep talking about trivial stuff. But both of you are obviously happy to talk again.

“Thanks, for the advice,” you end up saying while resting your head on his shoulder.

[miekasa]

fluff alphabet: levi ackerman

↯ pairing: levi ackerman x (fem) reader

↯ genres and warnings: modern au, fluff…. obviously, no real warnings i don’t think, oh spoilers for his ova? 

↯ word count: 3k lol don’t ask me how

↯ notes: i was going to take requests for this for valentine’s day, but i figured i’d just do them all in one post lolol. i feel like i haven’t posted for levi in a while, so here we go

Activities — What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

If you ask Levi to do something, there’s a good chance he’ll try it at least once for you. Unless it’s something he’s said he explicitly dislikes or doesn’t want to partake in, he’d gladly try it out with you.

He strikes me as the kind of person to like trying new restaurants. Not necessarily the trendy or popular or exclusive ones; but local places with good recommendations or reviews.

Down for late night drives, but you have to be the one driving. He’ll drive if you become too tired, but he prefers to sit in the passenger seat and just let you take him wherever. He doesn’t mind, and it’s a sign he trusts you.

I also think museum dates would be some thing he enjoys. Not history museums—I feel like the concept of stolen artifacts on display would piss him off more than anything lol—but art museums. That’s not to say he’s extremely into art, but I think something about a museum environment is somewhat calming to him. He doesn’t mind.

One more activity I would say suits him is watching movies or shows together. Levi’s the kind of guy that catches you watching a series and expresses how it looks stupid or boring at first, but still hovers around and backseat watches it anyway. After a while, he just gives up and starts actively watching it with you and becomes invested. He just won’t admit it.

Beauty — What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

In the least cheesy way possible, everything. Levi sees people, and his s/o in particular, as a whole person, rather than the sum of their parts. He understands that everything about you—physical, emotional, or otherwise—contributes to the person he loves. There’s something to appreciate about all of it at different times.

He’d probably admire and/or find little habits you have beautiful in some way or another. Probably things you might not even notice about yourself unless he pointed them out to you.

Personality wise, he’d admire it if his s/o were blunt and/or the kind of person to stick up for themselves or their friends. A little bit assertive; not going out of your way to make other people feel small or be rude, but simply refusing to shrink to make room for others.

Physically, again, I don’t think he has a preference for most anything, but if I had to pick, I’d say he’s a thigh/ass guy.

Comfort — How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack, etc.?

Levi is observant, so he would be able to tell when you’re struggling perhaps before you’re ready to realize it yourself, and long before you’re about to burst.

However, he would ask you how he can help. For as observant as he is, he’s also not a mind reader, and if there’s something specific he can get you, he would want to know, even if it’s seemingly small or superficial.

He would be pretty proactive about it, too. The second he figures out how he can help, he’s on it. You need a new desk to work from home? He’ll have it built by that weekend. You’re feeling overwhelmed and behind on your tasks? He’s already doing the ones he can do without your help.

He does his best to try and help you relax if the issue is a stressor, and if he could, he would eradicate the root of the stress from your life completely. Unfortunately, in the real world, that’s not always possible, but it’s nice to know that he’s willing. 

The other obvious answer is tea, but allow me to expand it more generally to food. Going along with the theme of acts of service being his love language, Levi would try to provide the basic necessities for you in order to allow to focus on solving your problems and/or feeling better. If not worrying about dinner is one thing that can help you, Levi’s happy to cook for you.

Dreams — How do they picture their future with their s/o?

Simple, but fulfilled. Levi just wants to be happy—to have someone to care for, and to have someone who will care for him.

Truthfully, I don’t think he’d mind children later down the road, and I think he would be a good parent. It might not be something he talks about outright at first, but as time progresses, and perhaps the timing becomes right, it’d be something he would want to consider.

Equal — Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

It’s equal. Levi doesn’t want to have more power, nor does he want to be passive. However, there are things he doesn’t mind handing over to you, and conversely, responsibilities he doesn’t mind taking on himself.

Compromise would be a big part in the relationship—not for the sake of compromising on your dreams or ambitions, but rather, to reach a middle ground if there’s any kind of argument.

I think it’s a give and take with him. And I don’t think he would want it to be any other way. He doesn’t strike me as someone who’s on either polar end.

Fight — Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

When you do fight, it’s a lot of pointed frustration. He doesn’t raise his voice, but he can get snippy, and a little closed off—speaking in clipped sentences, using underhanded phrases, focusing on past points. What drives him crazy is the aftermath of the fight, and if you give him the silent treatment, he’s bound to crack much sooner than later.

He’s quite easy to forgive. Canonically, he doesn’t like to fight with his friends or the people he cares about, and he would rather reach a solution as quickly as possible.

We saw that with Isabel and Farlan, despite the way he was firm on his decision for them to stay behind, they were able to break his resolve pretty quickly. He cares a lot about the people in his life, and I don’t think he’d like to go long with a riff between him and you. Especially if he thinks he might regret not talking to you about it sooner.

He’s one to keep a promise, but not to hold a grudge. That is to say, he understands that forgiveness goes both ways, and to work in a healthy relationship, both parties have to forgive themselves and each other at some point.

Gratitude — How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

Yes and no. It might take a minute for Levi to understand the depth of your actions—especially the ones that appear more mundane or are not as explicitly romantic.

Once he does, he is very aware of them, and as such, if very grateful. He didn’t every really think he’d be able to create and be apart of the kind of loving relationship the two of you have. He really cherishes it.

Honesty — Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

He has secrets by way of omission. He doesn’t lie to keep things hidden from you, but sometimes he doesn’t tell everything about himself, especially towards the start of your relationship.

It’s not always with malicious or even self-protective intent. He just doesn’t share because he doesn’t think it’s important, or that you might care. If you pry long enough or insist that you want to know just to know and because you care, then he’s happy to share.

As previously mentioned, it might take him a while to realize just how much you care about him, and his past and interests by extension. 

Inspiration — Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

As your relationship progresses Levi comes to learn that you genuinely find him attractive not just physically, but emotionally and psychologically. That you actually want to know him and that he’s worth knowing.

So, his biggest change is in the way he approaches his thoughts about himself and his self worth. But he also begins to pick up on your habits, your interests, and tries to understand your general approach to life, too.

He would probably change you in some ways, too. Most notably in the way you organize and clean your space, probably. He’s not sorry about it.

Jealousy — Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

No, he doesn’t. To him, jealously would imply that someone has something he wants. Firstly, you’re not an object to him, and secondly, he has you. There’s nothing more to it.

He’s not childish, nor is he out of check with his emotions, so he wouldn’t lash out on you, especially if it’s not your fault. In his small momentary slips, you wouldn’t even have noticed he was jealous at all.

He wouldn’t like it if someone was repeatedly making advances on you, especially if you’ve explicitly told them off/they were making you uncomfortable. In situations like that, he would simply try to get the both of you out of there/away from the person as quickly as possible.

There’s also an element of trust to this with Levi. He wouldn’t expect you to try and make him jealous out of spite; and he would trust that you wouldn’t play on the advances of other people if you notice them.

Kiss — Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

He is a good kisser. Mainly because he’s very perceptive to what you want and how to give it you.

The first kiss was sweet. Knowing Levi, there was probably quite the build up to it, so even if it was sweet and innocent, there was a layer of tension and a crash of emotions coming forward in the moment. It was memorable, to say the least.

Love Confession — How would they confess to their s/o?

I have imagined this time and time again… and I think it really depends on the foundation of your relationship/friendship with him before.

In the most generic scenario, it would probably be a little backwards—you would have, intentionally or not, gone on some dates before he realized what his feelings really were, and then take it from there.

If you were friends for a while before hand, it can probably go the implicit dating route—that is you’re both exclusively emotionally invested in each other, and basically involved in most relationship aspects without having realized it or put a label on it. You kind of naturally morph into a relationship, and it probably takes a verbal confession or kiss or two to solidify it.

It can also go the sexual tension route, and one day one of you finally snaps and makes a move. The verbal confession would come in the aftermath, but your actions will have solidified and expressed your feelings long before that.

Marriage — Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

Again, yes and no. Without taking into account the legal aspects, the actual concept of marriage is that juxtaposition of sweet and powerful that Levi likes; the idea of devoting yourself to someone and receiving a special kind of love for the rest of your life.

And while all of that is beautiful to him, there are the unfortunate cultural norms or marriage, especially in a modern au. The legality of it all, especially the financial defaults, would be a headache. Not to mention all the fluff and grandeur and gender expectations about it. He thinks all of that fucking sucks.

Above all, he doesn’t get why people expect him to pay for what’s basically an expensive document that tells the federal government he lives with you and loves you. He could do that without them in his business.

If you want to get married, then the proposal is sweet. Intimate, and probably a call back to something in your relationship, or a significant date/event for the both of you. He wouldn’t dare do it in public or even involve anybody else, other than maybe asking a friend or two.

Marriage with Levi is much like being in a long-term relationship with him. The way he acts in marriage isn’t exponentially different than the way he had been acting as your boyfriend. It’s all still very quiet, very sweet, very domestic.

Nicknames — What do they call their s/o?

He calls you by your name, unless you ask him to call you by something else. He might call you by an actual nickname, that is a shortened version of your name, if that’s the name you usually go by.

He’s not big on pet names and they slip out from time to time, but not in place of your actual name on an every day basis. If anything, he calls your name with a very unique tone to his voice. He rarely calls for anybody else with the same tone and/or emotion.

On Cloud Nine — What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

It’s not… not obvious to his friends, but he doesn’t look like he’s been shot by cupids arrow or anything. If you know Levi, you might pick up on the fact that he seems a bit happier, less stressed, has taken up new hobbies/habits, etc. But there’s not he’s not shitting rainbows and sunshine all of a sudden.

Love is very personal and intimate for him. He would do his best to express to you that he loves you and loves the love he receives from you, but he doesn’t feel that everyone else needs to know.

So, it’s somehow simultaneously noticeable and unnoticeable when you’re together in the presence of other people.

PDA — Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss when others are watching?

Levi isn’t big on PDA. He’s not hiding your relationship, but he doesn’t care to boast it to every person he meets, either. If somebody asks him, he’ll happily say that he’s in a relationship, but he doesn’t bring it forward himself.

He’s not hiding it or shy, but he doesn’t feel the need to be all over you in public. He doesn’t anything to prove to anybody. Besides, nobody wants to see that shit. He knows he wouldn’t.

There are some displays of affection, though. Hand holding isn’t abnormal, though likely not in a casual space with your friends or family. He’ll brush is hand along your arm when he’s walking past you, might ruffle your hair if the occasion calls for it, squeeze your thigh under the table.

Quirk — Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

He’s canonically good at math. This comes in handy when you’re at restaurants and trying to calculate a tip quickly. Somehow, he knows how to figure out 18% of your bill in 3 seconds flat.

It also comes in handy when you’re trying to organize things. Along with math comes a pretty good understanding of spatial reasoning. Somehow Levi is always able to put away your left overs using the smallest and least amount of tupperware possible. It’s kind of ridiculous, he might be a wizard.

Romance — How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

In the traditional sense, he might not appear romantic, but he’s the kind of person to say or do or gift little things that would take a much deeper romantic understanding of his partner than some grand, generic act like buying a thousand roses.

His romance is tailored to you and your relationship, not general expectations of what it means to be “romantic.”

Support — Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Levi is very devoted to you, so if you ask for his help, or he can help without stepping on your toes, he will. He wants you to not only succeed, but feel fulfilled through your achievements, and he’s happy to help you get there.

He believes in you wholeheartedly. If it’s something you really want, Levi wouldn’t dare doubt that you could achieve it.

Thrill — Do they need to try out new things to spice up your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

He doesn’t feel the need to try out new things based on expectations, but if you want to try something, or if he wants to try something, you can have a conversation about it, and eventually try it out.

There’s a sort of established routine in a domestic sense; a sharing of a mutual space and the behaviors associated with that. But there’s not, like, established date nights or “week-a-versaries.”

In that sense, he can be pretty spontaneous; bringing up new places to go or activities to try when the idea strikes him. But I suppose it’s never something… too adventurous? Not dangerous, at least lololol, he’s not going to randomly suggest you go skydiving as a bonding exercise. 

Understanding — How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Very well. Levi kind of makes you his business—in the most non-intrusive way possible. He’s perceptive and picks up on things about you with relative ease, and genuine interest.

He can predict how you might respond in a situation with pretty good accuracy, can guess what you might pick off the menu at a new restaurant, if given a choice has a good sense of which option you’ll choose. Very much a “I knew you would say that/do that, I don’t know why I even asked,” kind of person once he gets to know you. 

He can be pretty empathetic, and I think he would be in a relationship.

Value — How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

Your relationship is pretty damn important to Levi, and he devotes a significant amount of time and attention to it. Not in the place of giving time for himself, his friends, family or interests; but he is very much devoted to you.

However, he’s not the type to give up solid opportunities (ex: financial, for his family/mom, career-wise) for the sake of a relationship, especially if he’s not in the position to do so; and he wouldn’t want you to give up exceptional opportunities that align with your goals for him either.

Everything is relative in that sense, I suppose. He cares for you, deeply, and knows that you do, too. That, contrary to popular belief, is what enables you both to be strong enough to bend and not break.

Wild Card — A random fluff head canon.

I’ll give you a few :)

If you want him to, Levi will do your hair for you, and he’s pretty fucking good at it, too; hair type or texture be damned, he’ll take his time with it, and do it well for you.

When he’s alone, Levi hums himself to sleep. Usually singing/humming his mother’s favorite songs and/or songs he remembers hearing as a child.

He always gives you the lighter bags when you take your groceries upstairs/into your house. He doesn’t tell you, but he knows you don’t like to ‘make’ him do all the work.

He always makes dinner if he gets home before you.

He’s a pretty good artist, and has even drawn you once. He’s never told you or shown you, but he keeps the picture folded up in his wallet. Or behind his phone case.

XOXO — Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

Affectionate in private, yes. He doesn’t mind it if you’re all over him, and truthfully, has his moments where he’s shamelessly all over you, too. Especially in the morning, he’s a cuddle bug.

Kisses are always good, he would never oppose them. He’s quite easy to persuade with kisses, actually. And most physical touches; he doesn’t get them often, so he kind of melts when he does. 

Cuddles, too. Again, all of this is private and in the comfort of your own home. His favorite way to cuddle is to either have you completely on top of him, or to lay his head in your lap. Because he loves the feeling of you playing with his hair.

Yearning — How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

Levi will take part in things you like or things you’ve claimed in your shared space.

For example, he might find himself eating your favorite foods more often, sitting on the spot on the couch your sit in most often, rolling over to your side of the bed in his sleep.

He also likes to look back on pictures of the two of you. He doesn’t particularly like to be photographed, but he likes having these physical memories of your relationship, so he’ll indulge you when you want to take a picture together. And they come in real handy during times like this.

Zeal — Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

Levi will definitely put up a fight for you, so long as it’s mutual. He wouldn’t pour his effort into someone or a relationship in which he feels like he’s not receiving the same.

I’m not sure what great lengths there would be to go to in a modern au, but he definitely believes that relationships are hard work, and as such, is prepared to put in the work when things get hard. He’s not a quitter, and he knows that love is foundation and requires time and energy.

He cares about you too much to let you go without reason.

[jennagrinsoverml]

ML Fic Recs - Ladynoir

I think most readers can appreciate a good rec list, but it’s often the same fics that I see recced again and again. I get why they’re recced - they’re amazing! But I want help finding fic I haven’t already read. So I decided to be the change I want to see in the world. The rule: the fic must have less than a thousand kudos on AO3 (but I’m trying to limit to fics that have less than 500.) Obviously this means a lot of my favourites are not included here, but you’ve probably read all of those already anyway. 

If you enjoy these, please reblog so more readers can find these awesome fics!

To get things started and in honour of the quality ladynoir content we just got (which I’m hoping will inspire even more quality fan content!), let’s have some ladynoir recs. Fics are in no particular order.

Amnesiac? More like Amnesi-Chat by therealjanebingley

Oblivio's back, and this time only Chat Noir gets hit. Based on his limited knowledge and the way Ladybug acts towards him, he makes some assumptions.

One-shot. This is hilarious. From Chat’s genuine glee about his superheroes to Ladybug’s affectionate indulgence to having Chat provide an “outside perspective” on Ladybug’s non-platonic behaviour towards him to the teasing... I could see this actually happening in an Oblivio 2.0 episode.

Experimental Kisses by @komorebirei

Ladybug watched him. Maybe it was guilt, maybe sympathy, maybe a streak of playfulness. Maybe the traumatic akuma experience had softened her up. Whatever the reason, a thought wafted lazily through her mind and out of her mouth. “You know… you’re right. It isn’t fair, is it?”

Chat Noir looked up.

“I remember my first kiss, but you don’t.” She hummed and tapped her chin, making a show of remembering. “It wasn’t a bad kiss, but we were in the middle of fighting an akuma, so I didn’t get to enjoy it much, either.”

Oops—that came out sounding a little, no, a lot more flirty than she had intended. Anyway, if she was going to commit to this idea, she may as well go all in.

One-shot. Ladybug offers to kiss Chat since he doesn’t remember their kiss and the way she reacts to the kiss...it lives in my mind rent-free. I have fallen asleep many a night fantasizing about what the repercussions of the kiss might look like. 

What's your favourite colour? by @hermionemonica

Ladybug and Chat Noir sit on a rooftop, watching the sunset.

One-shot. This fic is short and sweet and absolutely lovely. It’s set post-reveal and despite only being 566 words it’s full of sweetness and feeling.

Margins of Error by orphan_account

“Do you…” Ladybug's voice is at an almost-whisper. He can feel her breath fire-hot against his face. “Do you want me to show you how I think they should write our kiss?”

Adrien isn’t here anymore, leave a message after the tone.

--

Adrien was raised on order. His life is meticulously planned, each day as reliable as the equations he studies in physics and calculus. But Ladybug- Ladybug always has him at a loss.

One-shot. Okay, so I know the author of this one since I download all my favourite fics, but since they’ve orphaned it I’m going to respect that. However, since the author was kind enough to leave the work up so people can continue to enjoy it, I’m going to suggest that people do so! Ladynoir kisses featuring my absolute favourite dynamic: sexually assertive Ladybug and receptive Chat Noir. (Don’t take this to mean the fic has sexual content - it’s just kissing.) AMAZING.

Liquid Luck by @somethingvaguetodo

Ladybug enlists Chat Noir's help in decoding the remaining ingredients for the power-up transformation potions. Together, they work on creating them, and possibly destroying the barriers between them.

Multi-chapter. The riddles of the secret potion ingredients are fun to think about, Ladybug and Chat Noir both get to show off their smarts, and the trust and support between the two of them is showcased. Perfect ladynoir.

when you weren't mine to lose by @bugsandchatons

Change is a scary thing, especially when it feels like nothing has stayed the same.

It's been a year since Marinette became the Guardian of the Miracle Box - a year of struggling beneath a burden she never asked for, a weight that has her leaning on her partner more and more as the hours fly by, of letting him come to her, too, when he needs a soft place to land. A year of falling for the boy who takes on the world by her side with a smile made of sunlight, and fighting the growing urge to tell him what he means to her.

After all, they'll have time enough for that when Paris is safe.

But when the unthinkable happens, Marinette learns the tragedy of loving someone quietly, and the lines she'll cross to save him.

Multi-chapter. This is what happens when Ladybug loses Chat Noir. It hurts in all the best ways and the writing is absolutely gorgeous and somehow we still get a happy ending!

well if i'm beautiful and you're beautiful then who's saving paris? by celebreultimaverba

Chat flirts. Surprisingly, it works.

And then it backfires.

One-shot. This one is so cute and sweet! It’s a quick read but you’ll be smiling by the end of it.

sometimes the dreamers finally wake up by magesamell

"Four days ago a mermaid flooded Paris and an ancient guardian introduced himself to his father as a substitute Chinese tutor. He had thought that would be the end of it."

Ladybug tells Chat Noir all of her secrets.

One-shot. Post-Syren. The fic we all desperately need about Ladybug actively working to restore the balance of her and Chat’s relationship after Fu messes with that. It’s not overly romantic, but it’s absolutely perfect.

i fall in love just a little, oh, just a little by @mlady-noir

If she was asked, Ladybug wouldn't be able to give a specific date when her heart decided to fall for her pun loving partner, but she could point out the night she realized it.

One-shot. Sofffffttttttt. This is just a beautiful narrative of Ladybug’s fall for Chat with a sweet, sweet ending.

Someone I Can’t Fall In Love With by @yslen54

Ladybug agreed with Chat Noir when he suggested that they should finally share their identities with each other, but she’s been dreading it ever since.

One-shot. This is short and sweet. An identity reveal that explores Ladybug’s feelings for Chat Noir and then plays with the divided heart trope.

The following fics are amazing and absolutely worth reading, but do feature sexual content, so minors beware.

You can’t stay away from me by plikki

When Adrien sides with his father, he expects to protect Ladybug and buy some time. He doesn't expect that his emotional state will make it so much harder to resist the girl that he loves, until he just gives in.

Multi-chapter. Rated M. Not-quite an enemies AU, but with all the beautiful angst and tension of one. There’s a fair amount of sex, so be warned but it’s SO SO GOOD. And all of the pain and angst is followed by a sweet happy ending.

baby, we don't have time to be coy by Molebear

"What are we doing?" Chat breathes, the words sending a tendril of lucidity back into Ladybug's hormone-addled brain.

It's a fair question.

The origins of this tryst are a little hazy in her mind at this point. Something about a lovesick akuma, maybe? Ladybug vaguely remembers Chat Noir getting struck by something, only seconds before it hit her too. There was a fight, or... there was something she and Chat Noir had been in the middle of doing - something important, like.... save-the-world important - before she'd dragged him underground with the sole intention of climbing him like a tree.

A scorned lover gets akumatized and gains the power to cast Lust. When it comes to distracting Paris' beloved superhero team, this power turns out to be... rather effective.

One-shot. Rated M. The UST of this one damn near killed me. It’s hot AF and I would commit homicide to read the conversation these two have after that lmaoooo

Charmed, I'm Sure by @chatonne-rousse

Friends with benefits. It's right there in the name, and it's what they are - friends. Best friends. This is just a way for two consenting adults to relieve stress after akuma fights, with the only person they'd trust with this level of intimacy. Really, what could go wrong? (The real question is, what could go right?)

Multi-chapter. Rated E. The sex is really, really hot. It’s in character and full of emotion. And there’s an amazing identity reveal followed by “I’m so happy it’s you!” sex. 

A Little Too Far by imploder

Ladybug gets handsy, and Chat Noir lacks self-control. Alternitavely: "Plagg's Worst Nightmare".

One-shot. Rated E. This one is hot and in character and just absolutely amazing steamy ladynoir content. Features my favourite: sexually assertive Ladybug. Because who doesn’t love playing with gender role stereotypes?

[autisticsupervillain]

Judicious Reaper AU

Hiveswap/Death Note Crossover

Tyzias Entykk is going heading home for the night when she stumbles across a strange black book on the ground. She picks it up and reads the five rules, written in plain Alternian.

The troll whose name is written in this note shall die.

This note will not take effect unless the writer has the person's face in their mind when writing his/her name. Therefore, people sharing the same name will not be affected.

If the cause of death is written within the next 40 seconds of writing the person's name, it will happen.

If the cause of death is not specified, the person will simply die of a heart attack.

After writing the cause of death, details of the death should be written in the next 6 minutes and 40 seconds.

She shrugs it off and stuffs the "Death Note" into her bag, figuring it's just some weeb thing that Tegiri dropped and she could return it to him tomorrow.

Later that night, she finds herself mulling over the Death Note with the TV on in the background, wondering what it could be from. Tegiri's never been shy about his interests, so it does strike her as odd that she's never heard him mention it. It's not like it could be new either, as Tegiri would've bragged about his new notebook the first chance he got. Just as Tyzias resolves to look it up, Trizza appears on the TV screen.

Trizza subjects her audience to another one of her narcissistic tyraids about how much better she is than everyone else and how she's definitely the rightful Empress. Tyzias, already tired from a long night of work and throughly fed up with Alternia's bullshit for that night, decides to write Trizza's name in the Death Note. Just as Tyzias dryly remarks to herself that "i wwwwish it wwwwas that easy", Trizza drops dead on stage. Tyzias drops her mug in shock.

Alternia is sent reeling on the inexplicable death of its Heiress and Tyzias is left staring mortified at the Death Note in her hands. She quickly throws the book in the trash and resolves to try and get to bed early that day, knowing she'll have a long night of work tomorrow. She doesn't get much sleep that night.

Predictably, Alternia has descended into absolute chaos by the time Tyzias wakes up. Trizza's death has inspired the rebellion to be more overt and violent, actively organizing raids and invasions while highblooded rebels like Fiamat try and seize control of the power vacuum. This leaves Tyzias swimming in so much paperwork that she barely has time to even think about the Death Note in between tending to the emotional needs of a shocked and confused Stelsa and trying to get her work done on time.

In the coming weeks, the Purples and Violets loyal to the Empire begrudgingly unite to try and get a handle on things. Chahut is elected as a stand-in heiress, as she's the only one persuasive enough to convince the castes to work together for the time being. Marvus, however, has a different reaction.

He knows for a fact that Trizza didn't just die. The Messiahs gave him the script, told him how everything was supposed to play out, and Trizza was much to important to drop dead. She was assassinated, she had to be. It was the only rational explanation, even if he didn't understand how just yet. His only choice was to find this assassin and play damage control to try and correct this timeline. Part of him knew that was impossible, that they'd gone so wildly off script that their timeline was doomed now, but that's what made the challenge so appealing.

It's only when her work load had died down several weeks later that Tyzias thinks to pull the Death Note out of the garbage. That's when she found Ryuk standing over her. After she panics and tosses her mug through his head, Ryuk laughs and intoduces himself.

He explains to her what he and the Death Note are and why he dropped it on Alternia. Sure, Ryuk is typically supposed to be one of Earth's shinigami, he's had a lot of trouble finding good entertainment sense "that Light kid died" and figured a more bloodthirsty species could provide it.

"You, however, seem to be an exception to that rule. Most trolls in your place would be thrilled to have this much power. But you seem almost afraid of it. Afraid of what you could do with that power and afraid of what that power could do with you. I can't say any if its human owners had that same wisdom."

Tyzias admits that she doesn't really know what to do with it. She'd always wanted to stage a nonviolent revolution, to reform the system from inside while killing as few people as possible. But, that was before she had the Death Note. With which she could control the Rebellion's body count, only burn down what she needed to so she could come and rebuild it into something better.

Tyzias decides to take her mind off the dilemma by chasing down a case that interests her. Lowbloods had been going missing in her area lately and she wanted to investigate. It would've been easy to just chalk this up to violence in response to Trizza's death, but there were no bodies. No signs of struggle even, suggesting that either the lowblood community had either taken the opportunity to evacuate en mass or they'd been abducted during all the confusion.

She finds her breadcrumb trail and follows it back to one Zebruh Codakk, who'd taken the opportunity to lure lowbloods to his hive with the offer of safely sitting out the violent rebellion. True to form, he immediately enslaved those who accepted his invite.

Unfortunately, this is where Tyzias' case would hit a brick wall. Highbloods enslaving Lowbloods wasn't illegal and it would take months for her to forge enough evidence to convict Zebruh of an actual crime. But.... Tyzias has the Death Note. With the flick of a pen, she could remove Zebruh from the picture and free all his slaves.

So, one night, Zebruh mysteriously dies of a heart attack while a strange troll in a cloak frees his slaves. She introduces herself as a "judicious reaper" and advises them to take as much of Zebruh's stuff as they can and run. Their hives aren't safe anymore, the authorities would likely pin Zebruh's death on them.

Marvus, meanwhile, has been blindly searching for leads on Tizza's killer and hears about Zebruh's death. Through this, he puts together that the assassin is a genuine revolutionary and not just someone grasping for power, given both their targets were cruel towards Lowbloods and killing Zebruh wouldn't likely solidy any kind of power base for them given how unpopular he was. After he tracks down one of the escaped slaves, he learns about the "judicious reaper" who saved them and deduces that the assassin might actually live nearby. After all, they didn't show up at the scene of Trizza's death, but they did show up here. Or, at least, sent one of their operatives here to free the slaves.

He decides to test this theory. He orders a squad of bluebloods to seize control of the town, cutting of the wifi and intercepting all incoming signals, before rounding up a random selection of five trolls from each caste. The plan is to publicly execute them in the town square under the excuse of "quelling rebellion". If the killer does indeed live in that town and they're as altruistic as Marvus suspects, they'll likely kill these executioners to prevent any deaths, inadvertently outing that they live in that small town.

The killer clearly has supernatural means available, as Trizza and Zebruh seemed to die of natural causes, which means that supernatural system likely has rules and limitations to it. This gives Marvus the hunch that the killer might need names and faces to kill people. As such, only some of the executioners will publicly announce their names or take off their masks.

Tyzias is unaware of the ploy and of the full extent of Marvus' knowledge, as she has no reason to believe that anyone suspects that there even was a killer. As such, she's trying to figure a way out of this situation that won't give anyone looking for patterns a reason to think that there might be a killer. Unfortunately, Stelsa is one of the trolls selected to be executed, so her hand is forced.

Luckily, Stelsa's executioner gave both his name and his face, so Stelsa was saved, but Tyzias couldn't save all of them and a good chunk of trolls were still executed. She suspects now that this was a set up, given how weird and candid it was that some of the executioners gave their names and faces but others didn't, but her attention is currently on comforting Stelsa.

Marvus is ecstatic at having his theory proven correct and decides to investigate. Not personally, but by proxy. He's a celebrity, so he can't exactly go asking around himself, nor could any of his associates without raising suspicion. So, he decides to outsource to the last kind of troll that the killer would suspect. Boldir.

Boldir has been a pretty open pain in Marvus's neck for awhile now. He knows she's constantly poking around where she shouldn't be and he knows she's good enough at it to not leave any kind of tangible, solid proof. He'd only been tolerating her because the script said he needed her alive, but now she can play into his hands a little more directly. Marvus tracks her down and meets her in person at her hive, both because she'd figure out he's involved if he tried to deal with her indirectly anyways and because it makes the statement of "I know who you are and where you and your loved ones live". Boldir initially refuses to cooperate, but her interest is peaked when he offers her a favor. Marvus knows about Fozzer and he knows about how his personality has changed. Marvus offers to use his chucklevoodoos to get to the bottom of Fozzer's strange behavior if Boldir investigates this "judicious reaper" for him.

Meanwhile, Tyzias is comforting Stelsa. She's hesitant to open up to Tyzias, as they're matesprites and not moirails, but ultimately, she has no one else to turn to. Stelsa nearly breaks down going over how, not only is Trizza dead, not only does the Empire seem to be collapsing all around her, but the very Empire she trusted just tried to kill her for seemingly no reason. She's scared. Exhausted. Confused. And she just doesn't know what to do.

Tyzias considers revealing that she killed Trizza, all she'd have to do is hand her the Death Note, but she doesn't. Tyzias and Stelsa have always just politely ignored each other's political leanings. Tyzias has never had to lie about it before.

Putting those heavy feelings to the side for now, Tyzias realizes she has to get out of town. Killing those executioners was a big giveaway towards her existence and even potentially her identity, and, if it was a ploy like Tyzias suspects, it's likely the Empire's noose is closing in right that second. Luckily, Tyzias finds her answer online.

It turns out The Mask is one of the trolls Tyzias saved from Zebruh's clutches, and, after going through her files on Zebruh's case, Tyzias is able to figure out she's Chixie Roixmr. Chixie had been singing about the "judicious reaper" who saved her and had gotten people to rally behind them as part if the rebel movement. Tyzias sends Chixie a letter as this "judicious reaper", using her position to fudge the paperwork so this can't be traced back to her, and asks Chixie to perform live in her home town in three nights. Chixie announces her schedule change to her fans online, which sends swarms of The Mask fans to Tyzias's town.

Tyzias spins this to the now very paranoid local government as a potential rebel invasion and gets them to agree to an evacuation. Boldir keeps Marvus updated on this process and Marvus realizes that the killer is making an effort to escape. Deciding this would be the perfect opportunity to just get rid of them in one swoop, Marvus uses his resources to hire Azdaja and Konyyl to attack the evacuation train and kill everyone aboard.

This turns out to be Marvus's fatal mistake. Azdaja abd Konyyl start arguing at a crucial moment, allowing Tyzias, Stelsa, and Boldir to escape unharmed. Boldir even realizes how badly Marvus has shot himself in the foot as now the killer will know for a fact that someone powerful is after them.

Indeed, as soon as Tyzias, Stelsa, and Boldir make it to the next town over, Tyzias looks into the two assassins who tried to kill her. Realizing how expensive their fee is, Tyzias realizes just how powerful the person hunting her is. They're clearly onto her and have no problem bringing as much of their reach to bear on her as possible. So, she decides she has no choice but to take the fight to them.

So, Tyzias writes Chahut's name in the Death Note, effectively beheading the pro-empire side of the conflict. The should force her pursuer to back off and focus on the chaos going on above them, and it does. Marvus has to address this new power vacuum because otherwise he'll be next in line to fill the Heiress' throne, which would put him next on the killer's chopping block. Knowing he can't leave Boldir to handle this case unsupervised, he decides to kidnap Fozzer and use him ti threaten her into line directly. Now, Boldir is forced to wear a recorder all night, every night to make sure she doesn't try to betray him while he sorts things out between the purple bloods and the violet bloods.

Unfortunately, Marvus doesn't have to wait much longer to get results. Boldir is able to pin down Tyzias's identity after she pickpockets the Death Note and gets a good look at it. While Boldir doesn't meet Ryuk, as ahe snuck off before the two could notice each other, she does see that the names written down perfectly match the killer's known victims. That, alongside the rules listed up front, gives her enough proof to pin Tyzias as the killer. Boldir quietly returns the notebook so to avoid alerting Tyzias before informing Marvus.

After getting the rundown on Tyzias's personality from Boldir, Marvus kidnaps Stelsa to strongarm Tyzias into surrendering, broadcasting his demands to all of Alternia. Tyzias calls him and sets up a time and place to surrender, agreeing to come unarmed. In Tyzias's last gambit, she bribes Ryuk into staying out of sight on the night of her execution before sending Chixie a letter containing a page of the Death Note and the front page instructions how to use it. Thus, when Marvus attempts to execute her live before Alternia, he ends up dying as Chixie writes his name in the Death Note.

Marvus puts the pieces together as he dies, realizing that the strange black book filled with names that Tyzias had was how she killed her victims. He laughs and congratulates her for putting on one hell of a show before his heart stops.

With the pro-empire side soundly decapitated and with no one as competent as Marvus or Chahut left to carry the torch, Alternia swifty falls to the rebellion. Tyzias is offically given the title of the Judicial Reaper after her rebel friends rescue her and offer to shower her with awards. But, Tyzias puts all if that to the side. She needs to talk to Stelsa.

Stelsa is hurt, bitter that Tyzias did all of this behind her back. For as long as she had known her, Tyzias had said that she wanted to change Alternia peacefully. And, as much as Stelsa tried to dissuade her, she respected that. But, Tyzias assassinated the Heiress the first chance she got and now, one sweep later, had effectively taken over Alternia.

Tyzias tries to explain everything to her. She didn't want to overthrow anyone until Zebruh and Marvus forced her hand, she even hands Stelsa the Death Note and introduces her to Ryuk to prove it, but Stelsa is done.

Tyzias had the chance to tell her everything. Explain everything. Maybe even convince her of everything back when Stelsa was looking for comfort when the executioners showed up. But that moment is gone now. Stelsa leaves Tyzias behind with tears in her eyes.

Boldir catches up to Tyzias drinking at a bar. She introduces herself, explains how shes knows her, and apologizes for everything. She explains how someone she cared about was threatened and how she was currently tryinf to convince the rebels to let Fozzer out of containment due to his imperial bootlicking attitude. Tyzias symoathizes and the two bond over shared stories. Ryuk is bemused by the fact that Boldir doesn't seem intimidated by him.

After being given a high rank in the Rebellion's new regime, Tyzias is able to bring about the world she'd always dreamed of. Turning Alternia into a better world, step by step. After Glybglob is killed and the Condescension defeated, Tyzias finally works up the courage to confront Stelsa again.

After Tyzias took over, Stelsa wasn't really sure what to do with herself. So, she hid and watched the world change around her from the safety of her hive. Fear turned to curiosity and that turned to wonder. Stelsa has, during her sweeps in hiding, seen the ways that Tyzias had improved upon life on Alternia and is, after countless sweeps, willing to forgive her.

Sweeps later, after the Alternian Empire has been reshaped from the ground up and after Tyzias's body finally starts to give out, Ryuk comments that Tyzias is probably the only person he's seen win when handed the Death Note.

"Most people I give this thing too tend to lose. Usually because they try to cheat death, play God, or win big. But you? You didn't do any of that. And you won because of it. Sure, it made things a bit boring in places, but ut made things pretty fun too."

Ryuk writes Tyzias's name in his book. "Well, Tyzias, so long. It's been interesting."

[pradaksj]

7 Rings | 02

♛ pairing: taehyung/reader

♛ genre: richboy!taehyung | blackmailer!reader | infiltration au | future smut | angst.

♛ rating: mature

♛ word count: 9,990+

♛ warnings for this chapter : explicit language, usage of alcohol (legal)

♛ (please read) author’s note: This chapter basically goes back in time to the day in which Y/N finds out about her mother, but instead we now get a glimpse of tae’s life so there is not much y/n in this chapter !! Just to let y’all know so you don’t get confused :)

♛ summary: In desperate need of money, you and your best friend come up with a plan to infiltrate one of Seoul’s richest families, the Kim family. The plan was simple, garner some money and disappear, but of course things don’t always go as planned. Especially not with someone like Kim Taehyung.

━ ❝ Whoever said money can't solve your problems, must not have had enough money to solve 'em.❞

♛ chapter index/masterlist || series masterlist

Chapters⇢ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08

Friday Morning.

“In today’s news, the Kim family’s multibillion dollar deal has been officially confirmed. Their partnership with Hyundai is estimated to bring in at least seven billion in revenue to Korea’s economy over the next 5 years. Both parties have agreed to terms that will lift…”

Kim Taehyung stared at the coffee shop’s mounted TV as he waited in line to order, feeling as if it was already too early to be stressed out. The weary feeling of 4 hours of sleep was beginning to manifest itself, irritation slowly beginning to take its form. Honestly, it was a feeling he found himself feeling quite often these days. In a few years, the responsibility of a billion dollar empire would be under his hands, something he wasn’t exactly looking forward to. The images of his dad shaking hands with Hyundai’s CEO appearing on the TV, the man was basically hailed a hero. Taehyung’s eyes narrowed at the sight.

One could say his relationship with his father was not only distant but … complicated. As Taehyung grew up watching his dad’s empire become almost unstoppable, it also meant that he was always away from home. Though for the most part, Taehyung didn’t mind. His mother was everything a child could ask for, compassionate, hard-working, and never failing to provide her almost endless unconditional love for the young boy.

When he was younger though, his father seemed like an unattainable hero, an inspiration, and at some point it was a relationship he longed for. He often felt guilty whenever he’d hear kids in his school mention not having a father figure in their lives, either due to tragedy or other unspecified reasons. He was lucky enough to have his father in his life … so then why didn’t it ever feel like it ? Not like he had a right to complain.

Without his father he wouldn’t have grown up in the world of luxuries as he was fortunately able to. You see, there was a reason why Kim Enterprises was plastered all over Seoul (if not all of Korea), and that was because they were the IT company. A multi-conglomerate holding company who owned stakes in almost every major company from South Korea that you could possibly think of. Their rise in power was truly undeniable.

The company had been founded just a couple of years before Taehyung had been born, originally starting off as an insurance company which had done small investments in prospect companies, slowly rising in their investment and stakeholder shares. At least that was the story Taehyung’s father told him growing up, never failing to remind him that he came from nothing, and for that reason Taehyung should be nothing but grateful, stating that because of him he’d never know what it was like to feel the stigma of being poor in his own home and the powerlessness that comes with it. And you see Taehyung had absolutely no problem with that because well… it was true, and there was no denying that. What bothered him though, was that those speeches never seemed to come out of a place of genuinity, but one of animosity. As if to remind Taehyung that without his father he was, is, and would’ve been nothing.

To a certain extent he respected his father, but he didn’t love him. There was no genuine relationship there, and he knows it may sound horrible to say, but Taehyung most definitely had his reasons. But some things were just simply better left unsaid.

“Hello? Next in line,” a voice (an annoyed one at that) interrupted his thoughts, as he failed to realize that the cashier had been calling out for him for who knows how long. Though he didn’t take her harsh attitude to heart, if anything sympathizing with her and what he assumed was a stressful job, and it wasn’t like he was making it any easier by being a slow-poke.

“Welcome to Seoul’s Magnificent Mocha, what can I get for you this morning?” she asked once he had made his way up front to the cashier counter. Taking off his sunglasses, he couldn’t but want to laugh at how quick her facial expression had changed. It was the face that people made when they recognized him. It was amazing what a simple baseball cap and some shades could do, he hadn’t even worn his black face mask this time. “Y-You—” she began to stutter her words, instead slowly pointing at the TV. He gave her a small smile along with a small nod as a way of confirming what she was trying to say.

“That would be me,” he smiled, “Can I get an iced Americano and um a,” he paused trying to remember what Namjoon had wanted, “strawberry iced tea. Both medium please,” he finished off the order clearly sounding very uncertain.

“It’s g-going to b-be um,” the poor girl was so nervous she couldn’t even tell him his total without stuttering, “15,000 Won,” He proceeded in handing her a 50,000 note.

“You can keep the change,” he winked at her before putting his sunglasses back on and politely dismissing himself towards the waiting area, quietly laughing at how quickly she facepalmed herself when he was out of her line of sight.

Taehyung always did have a special charm on people, plus he was good looking, and he knew it. He didn’t have any special talents, nothing he could actually proudly boast about. It would be dense of him not to acknowledge that the only reason he was so famous was because of both his status and looks.

There were many people who swooned over him such as the cashier, but there were also many who believed he was still the same old spoiled brat who was nothing but a troublemaker from four years ago. It didn’t help that gossip blogs were still using the same clips from years ago when he really was nothing but a troublemaker who liked flashing his expensive cars for the paparazzi, and purposely kept a high profile. He had been naive, nothing but an eighteen year old teenager who thought fame was better than anything else in the entire world. Four years later, now at the age of twenty-two, and he had long learned that fame was horrible. But he had changed and that’s all that mattered, right? A complete 180, if you will.

Those people didn’t know him, so what made them think they had the right to judge him? To act as if they’d do things any better if they were in his position. The only Kim Taehyung they ever knew was the one they’d seen through a screen. He remembered the first time his name had made its way on the headline of gossip blogs and the comments that came with it.

[Kim Taehyung, son of Kim Jeong  spotted out having a wild night out in Hongdae. Pictures leaked from last night with some steamy footage. Click here for more.]  

[+3,623,  -59] he better pray he doesn’t catch any STD’s while he’s at it ㅋㅋㅋ wouldn’t be surprised if he already has some

[+3,100, -100] i feel bad for his dad, he expects someone like this to run the fortune he’s worked so hard for??? he’s so young as well…

[+2,547, -57] leave him alone and respect his privacy

[+2,100, -23] ah he’s so cute!! whoever was dancing with him is one lucky lady!

[+1,022, -34] a brat like that doesn’t deserve the things he has

That night had only been the beginning to years of nothing but front covering gossip magazines and having his privacy invaded on a daily basis. People became invested in what he was doing with his personal life, his friends, who he was seeing, what he was wearing, and anything else you could possibly think of. He often wondered why, but he assumed it was the same reason as to why people continue to give someone like Kim Kardashian attention despite claiming to hate her. Because people want a glimpse of a world that isn’t their own, simply fascinated by the rich. That and their obsession for scandal only adds fuel to the fire.

With fame came pressure though, pressure to uphold an image for the family company, one his father fairly cared about these days. Hell, nowadays his dad gave him more attention than he ever did as a child, all because he knew that Taehyung was and is the future for Kim Enterprises. It was his father’s pressure that led to his current relationship with— ah speak of the devil.

[From: Sunhi]

[9:10AM] I know you see my texts.

[9:11AM] why are you ignoring me???

[9:12AM] hello???

“Taehyung! Your Iced Americano and strawberry iced tea is ready!” Taehyung rolled his eyes as he glanced through the several number of text messages, instead locking his phone and going up to grab the drinks.

Sunhi was the granddaughter of Hyundai’s CEO and had long been in the picture as early as Taehyung could remember. The two went to the same middle and high school, a one sided crush on her side forming at some point. It wasn’t until about a year ago after returning, that his father had basically forced him to take her out on a date citing that it was in his words, “good for business”. And well today the “good for business” approach had its results, the confirmation of a multibillion dollar deal.

The media loved the two together, hell, they were even labelled as Seoul's next generation’s power couple. Their names amassing a fortune worth billions behind them, their good looks garnering both of them ambassador deals, all in the meanwhile social media was the backbone of the phenomenon that was their so called “relationship”. Not that Taehyung considered it much of one, in his opinion it had stopped being an actual relationship a long time ago.

It wasn’t that Taehyung hated Sunhi, in fact in the beginning of their relationship he was smitten for her, but it wasn’t long until the spark burned out. “Wasn’t long” meaning a couple of weeks in and she actually turned out to be the real definition of a brat, the actual real-life manifestation of Blair Waldorf. Constant up and downs with her had quickly worn him out, and the constant badgering from the media only made things worse. But that doesn't mean he hated her, in order for him to hate her he’d actually have to care about her, and well in all honesty…  he didn’t.

Sometimes he’d ask himself why he was still with her considering the deal had long been confirmed even before today. Taehyung had been free to do what he’d like for a long time, meaning there had never been a need for him to have kept this going for so long, he just did. One must ask, why?

Maybe it was because he knew she was the safest option, the person everyone expected and wanted him to be with. Breaking up with her right now would only further his stress, something he definitely didn’t need more of. Plus she knew him from the surface, and he knew her from the surface, and maybe that was just enough. He didn’t need, or want, anything more than that from her or anyone else for that matter. Sunhi was just enough.

It wasn’t like she was using him for anything, especially considering she already has everything. But by being with her, he was satisfying others, he was becoming the person everyone wanted him to be, the person he always should’ve been.

Hell, who knows, maybe he could truly fall in love with her one day … though in the back of his mind he knew the answer to that.

“Took you long enough,” Namjoon complained as he turned on the ignition of the car. He glanced at the drinks in Taehyung's hands, dramatically sighing at the sight, “and you somehow still ended up ordering the wrong drink for me,” he sighed, grabbing the drink from Taehyung’s hands nonetheless.

“My bad, I had forgotten in the moment…” he shot an apologetic smile towards his newly dyed platinum-haired friend.

Namjoon was the son of another one of Seoul’s elite, but also Taehyung’s right hand man. The two had met during their freshman year of high school, but funnily enough the two originally hated one another. Now looking back at it, Taehyung could admit that the two had acted extremely childish over a girl who’d end up picking neither of them, but that was a story to tell for another day.

Luckily Namjoon seemed to enjoy the drink, no longer complaining about it during the ride to Lotte World Mall. The two needed to go buy some new suits for tonight's event in celebration of the brand new deal between Kim Enterprises and Hyundai. The paparazzi were definitely going to be there and with all eyes on him, Taehyung decided that he might as well look good.

Friday Evening.

By the time Taehyung had returned to his place, he was both drained and exhausted, the idea of taking a nap and ditching the event seeming all too tempting. Namjoon this morning had felt the need to visit almost every high end store he could think of and try on the most useless things including scarves, gloves, and a whole bunch of other things. Basically going back and forth all across the mall whenever he’d regret not buying something.

He carried his bags upstairs to his room, ready to plop onto his bed and take a well deserved nap, but of course as always the universe seemed to work against him.

“I’ve been waiting for you!” he silently cursed to himself, asking himself why he thought it was a good idea to give Sunhi access to his penthouse. “Of course you went shopping without me, and to think I wanted to color coordinate,” she puckered her lips attempting to give him a small kiss on the lips, but before she could Taehyung had turned his cheek causing her to almost entirely miss.

She quickly composed herself acting as if that didn’t just happen, instead beginning to rummage through his bags, complimenting the things he chose while he just laid in bed slowly taking in deep breaths trying not to snap at her for coming unannounced. “So what exactly is that you came here for Sunhi…” he mumbled, failing to hide his annoyance.

She pouted, “Well you weren’t answering my texts, and I wanted to know whether you’d be going tonight…” she began to give him small pecks on his face, hoping that he’d show some kind of affection.

“I am, I am. I’m just really tired right now and in desperate need of a nap,” he responded, ignoring her obvious attempts to initiate things. His eyelids were half way closed, clearly ready to knock out at any second.

“Oh well I’ll just stay—”

“No, no. Just go back home, get ready, and I’ll see you over there okay?” his voice was much harsher this time, turning to face the other direction of his bed which was no longer facing her, a cold gesture on his part.

Sunhi sat there for a moment, feeling a mixture of both anger and disappointment. She wanted to say something, but instead crossed her arms, and let out a huff of air in response. Taking one last look at him before getting up from his bed and walking herself out. The same old feeling of being unwanted creeping into her mind, a feeling she knew all too well.

Friday Night.

By the time he had arrived, Taehyung thought that the paparazzi would’ve grown impatient waiting for him and end up leaving, but as per usual he was completely wrong. If anything, him being late had only caused them to triple in numbers. Those men really had no shame, their camera flashes penetrating through the Mercedes Benz’s tinted windows.

“You let me know when you’re ready Mr. Kim,” his security guard said. Taehyung took a deep breath, fixing his YSL brooch before nodding to him, letting him know that he was ready. He was quickly greeted with a stammering number of questions.

“Where’s Sunhi?”

“Over here! Over here!”

“How’s your night been?”

Taehyung tried to not make any faces, knowing that even the slightest lift of the brow would be taken out of context, and that by tomorrow morning there’d be a whole bunch of rumors trending on Twitter. The only thing was that the paparazzi always knew how to push his buttons whether it was shouting something rude, roughly grabbing at him, and etc. 

At this point he just needed a drink to relax and take his mind off of these low life men who had nothing else better to do than to try and make a quick buck off his name.

“Finally! Took you long enough,” he heard, quickly spotting Namjoon the moment he entered the venue, wondering if he had been waiting up front for him the whole time.

“You didn’t have to wait for me you know? And plus it’s not my fault you had me running circles around the mall,” Taehyung said causing Namjoon to scoff in response, “Has he given his speech?” the “he” Taehyung was referring to was his father.

“I honestly don’t know,” Namjoon shrugged, who like Taehyung, never did like these kinds of events as they always had him wanting to knock out halfway through, the only thing he really did appreciate was the food they served. 

The two walked towards the bar which caught their attention much more than the cathedral-inspired venue, deciding that a drink was necessary to kick the night off right.

“Two gin and tonics please,” the bartender nodded, beginning to prepare their drinks. Taehyung watched the bartender pour gin into his jigger, curious as to how someone could memorize the recipes for so many drinks. “How many years does it take for one to learn the ways of bartending?” he asked the brown-haired man, an attempt to strike conversation.

“Ah well a simple gin and tonic is something every bartender should know like it’s the back of their hand,” the man chuckled, “but if you’re talking about something like hmm,” he paused for a moment, “something like a bloody mary perhaps.”

A bloody mary? Isn’t that just vodka with some tomato juice?

“It’s much more than that,” the bartender laughed at Taehyung who was slightly taken aback, not realizing that he must’ve said what he was thinking aloud. “Though those are the two the main ingredients, it includes salt, pepper, hot sauce, garlic, herbs,” Taehyung was now genuinely curious as to where the bartender was going with this, “It covers the entire range of the human palate from sweet, salty, sour, unami, and savory but you have to make sure it doesn’t taste bitter.”

He continued talking as he poured the tonic water onto the frosted drinking glasses, “A little too much of one ingredient or a little too less and the whole drink goes to waste. You have to find a balance,” he emphasized the last part, almost as if this went beyond drinks, “Someone who wants a bloody mary is someone who definitely knows what they’re looking for,” he concludes his sermon-like speech, intensely staring at Taehyung. Namjoon looked at the man like he was crazy, who the hell overanalyzes a drink to this extent? Taehyung on the other had a look of fascination on his face, instead returning the stare.

“Well … cheers!,” Namjoon breaks the tense silence by raising his drink, momentarily being left hung dry until soon enough Taehyung lifted his drink up as well, the two of them clinking their glasses before chugging the bittersweet drink down their throats.

“Ah there he is!” Taehyung turned around, watching as his father made his way towards him, right alongside Sunhi’s parents. The two gave each other an awkward hug, “You better have a good damn reason for being so late,” his father harshly whispered into his ear before pulling back, the famous fake grin that Taehyung had grown to hate still plastered onto his face. The man was an expert at saving face, like father like son.  

Taehyung remained silent instead politely greeting Sunhi’s parents before watching the trio as they made their way to greet other guests.

“I’m going to need a second drink,” he exasperated, causing Namjoon to let out a laugh. The bartender nodded, immediately beginning to prepare their drinks.

“I’m surprised Sunhi hasn’t gotten her claws on you yet, I could’ve sworn she was here earlier,” Namjoon mentioned causing Taehyung to shrug, his expression now dulled at the mention of her.

“I feel bad, I sorta snapped at her earlier, but she kept on nagging me, wouldn’t let me sleep in peace. I blame you,” he said, commenting on the situation earlier.

“Hey I’m not the one whose forcing you to be with her,” Namjoon remarked, causing Taehyung to shoot him a glare, his eyebrows now furrowed.

Instead he changed the topic, accustomed to Namjoon’s dismay of the relationship, “I just want to go home and sleep,” Taehyung yawned, the event was boring him more and more by the minute.

“Same he—” Namjoon suddenly stopped mid sentence, something more “important” now having caught his eye.

“You’re practically drooling, you do realize that right?” Taehyung deadpanned, glancing at the girl who had caught his friend’s eye. She was pretty, he wasn’t going to lie, but she seemed like someone who was quite stuck up to be honest. But he assumed that about everyone around here as it takes one to know one. “So are you going to just stand here and stare like a creep or …”

“You don’t mind me leaving you here?” Namjoon’s voice sounded a little too excited. Taehyung shrugged his shoulders, he wasn’t the type of person who couldn’t stand being alone. In fact, he enjoyed his own company sometimes, he had actually read somewhere that it was quite important for one’s own mental health.

“I think I need to go find Sunhi either way, or else she’ll be nagging me the whole night as to why I didn’t find her sooner, that and apologize for earlier,” Namjoon nodded, lightly patting on his shoulder before making his way to the woman who had caught his eye, trying his best not to gawk so much.

“Now where could she be…” Taehyung mumbled to himself, having now left the bar and instead walking around the venue, making a half-assed attempt at looking for his girlfriend.

Taehyung could feel his legs swaying left to right, the lack of balance he had was probably laughable to anyone who wasn’t him. He wasn’t drunk, at least that’s what he was telling himself. The way the world was spinning told him otherwise. In all honesty he had only asked for a couple more drinks after the second one, but nonetheless he always was a lightweight drinker to begin with. His bladder felt as if it was going to burst at any moment so instead of Sunhi being his top priority, going to the restroom now was.

He looked around, the signs on the doors now looking slightly blurry. He grabbed the handle to what looked like could be the men’s restroom harshly pushing the door open.

Everything happens for a reason… right?

“Oh my God, It’s not what it looks like,” Because what were the chances that he caught her right in the act, with none other than Jeon Jungkook.

Taehyung had seen this situation play out in so many movies and TV shows, whereas the boyfriend usually destroys everything in his way and immediately begins to throw punches at the lover, and yada yada yada. But for some odd reason all Taehyung could do was stand there and watch as she hurriedly tried placing her bra back on.

He couldn’t help but actually want to … laugh. Really, because what were the chances? What were the chances that instead of walking into what he thought was a restroom, he instead walked in on his girlfriend and Seoul’s biggest man-whore about to fuck in a janitor’s closet.

He glanced at Jungkook who had nothing but a giant smirk plastered on his face, not even bothering to put his shirt back on.

Taehyung gathered his thoughts… What was he supposed to do again?  

Nothing. There was absolutely nothing left for Kim Taehyung to do, but to turn around and walk away. And so that’s what he did, drowning out her pleads for him to stay, a small smile gracing his lips. He was finally free.  

Namjoon must’ve left early because once Taehyung had returned back to the bar, he was nowhere to be found. He decided it was just best to leave before Sunhi could find him and start begging him to hear her out. After texting his security guard to meet him out front, he asked for a bottle of water and attempted at fully sobering up before he’d have to face several rapidly flashing lights in his face.

Did it end up actually helping? Fuck no. God, why did they have to park his Mercedes so far away. It was as if no matter how many steps he felt like he was taking, he was no closer to where he wanted to be.

“Smile for the camera man, come on!” The rapid flashes of light caused Taehyung to stumble his footsteps worse than before, the responses he gave to the multiple questions being thrown at him coming out more like mumbles and slurs. He knew that deep inside his brain was sending him signals on what to do, whether his body was listening was another story.

“Watch where you’re going man! Momma’s boy can’t handle his liq—” one of the paparazzo shouted at him while grabbing at his arm, and maybe it had been cause he was drunk, maybe because he was simply just tired, but in an instant Taehyung had felt his fist collide with the man’s face throwing everyone and everything into a frenzy. The questions and comments now coming out of their mouths at a lightning speed, some were cursing him out, others were pretending to praise him at an attempt to get him to say something, but none of it mattered because by the time he got into the car it was too late to take any of it back, and soon enough everything had gone black.

Saturday Evening.

The hangover the next day was literal hell, Taehyung felt as if the inner surface of his skull was practically being thrashed upon, his eyesight struggling to cope with the rays of daylight that directly shone on his eyes. Not only that, but his mouth had felt so dry, however having to get up for water seemed like so much work to do considering how much his back was aching.

It was like the flu except it had been self-inflicted. He attempted to raise his heavy eyelids all in one go, just for them to immediately fall shut. He could feel the constant vibrating notifications from his phone, choosing to ignore it altogether as he figured it was probably Sunhi sending him several text messages. Even if it wasn’t her, he was too lazy to even stretch his arm out and disconnect his phone. Maybe he could sleep it off, he thought to himself, curling himself back under his thick duvet.

How was it that he was barely 22 and already facing the repercussions of intense hangovers when just a couple of years ago he could drink all night long and wake up the next day hangover free. It was as if with each passing year it just got worse, no wonder so many older folks didn’t get drunk anymore, they had learnt it the hard way.

And just as he was about to fall asleep, of course his stomach had to both lurch and gurgle like some kind of trapped animal. He groaned, swinging his feet around in bed like a kid who had just been told “no”. Sadly, he was going to have to force himself to get up and so he did.

Once on his feet, he immediately felt the room sway almost causing him to lose balance until he managed to grab onto his bedstead in order to keep himself standing. He yawned and stretched out his entire body, lowkey loving the sound of his bones cracking. Time to start a new day.

After brushing up, he began to prepare himself something quick to eat fearing that his stomach was going to lash out on him any moment and so he decided to make some scrambled eggs. Quick and easy. Right?

Wrong.

The rare occasions that Taehyung did cook were always 50/50, as in there was half a chance whatever he cooked would come out either decent or completely under/over cooked. The boy practically lived off of takeout, restaurants, and microwaveable food, but at this current moment he needed food and quickly at that. Today his eggs had come out slightly undercooked with some of the yolk still a little slimy, but it was edible nonetheless.

As he ate he was genuinely surprised at the fact that Sunhi didn’t ambush his home this morning, causing him to set a reminder on his phone to remove her fingerprint off of his security system as soon as possible. He scrolled through her long thread of texts that consisted of her going back and forth between apologizing, begging, and guilt tripping him, only causing him to roll his eyes and sigh.

[Incoming Facetime from: Namjoon 🐨]

Taehyung quirked his brow before clicking “accept”.

“Weren’t you the one who scolded me about facetiming without sending a warning text,” he laughed, it wasn’t like he was lying.

“Ah I know, I know, but I felt sorta bad for just leaving last night without saying goodbye, but a man has his needs,” Namjoon now sported a giant grin on his face, probably recalling last night’s events, “and well I thought you’d be in bed hungover, in need of a wake up call,” he joked only causing Taehyung to flash him the middle finger through the screen.

“Well I’m up,” Taehyung wondered if Namjoon knew, maybe Sunhi had told him or something. He quickly scratched the idea as he knew Sunhi was the type of person to try and keep everything under wraps … but Jeon Jungkook was not.

Jeon Jungkook.

Remember the small mention of Namjoon and Taehyung fighting over the affections of a girl only for her to end up choosing someone else. That someone else was none other than Jeon Jungkook, one of Upper Seoul’s biggest man-whores, if not the biggest man whore. If Sunhi was actually someone Taehyung loved, he probably would’ve punched that stupid smirk off of Jungkook’s face last night, but luckily he didn’t have to. Did Jungkook have it out for Taehyung? It was unclear to be honest. This definitely wasn’t the first time Jungkook has attempted at sabotaging him despite Taehyung clearly showing he could care less.

In fact the two before yesterday’s incident had actually been mutual acquaintances being in the same “circle” and all. That circle being the sons of the multi million/billionares of Seoul which included names such as Kim Seokjin and Park Jimin. Namjoon in particular was good friends with Seokjin, who in return was very close with Jungkook. Seokjin and Namjoon both being the “neutral” bridge between the two. So Taehyung wasn’t going to be surprised if Seokjin had in fact informed Namjoon of yesterday’s dilemma. It had been Seokjin who told Namjoon of Jungkook’s actions of the past such as leaking Taehyung’s location to paparazzi on a number of occasions, stealing brand deals under Taehyung’s nose, and many other things.

“So…”

“I know that you know,” Taehyung chuckled out, causing Namjoon to let out a sigh of relief.

“Oh great, I was really not looking forward to beating around the bush and forcing it out of you,” he laughed, “well it looks like you got what you wanted.”

Taehyung’s nose crinkled in confusion, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh come on!—” Namjoon’s mouth curved into his famous dimpled smile, obviously trying (but failing) to repress his laugh, “Don’t act like you’re not the happiest man on Earth right now! You’ve probably been praying for something like this to happen for forever,” Taehyung’s face went sour, “You’ve needed an excuse to break up with Sunhi without you ending up being the bad guy for so long, and that’s why you probably haven’t even shedded a single tear since you found out,” he insisted causing Taehyung to let out a bitter scoff , mumbling a silent “That’s not true.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night Tae—” suddenly the sound of something abruptly falling grabbed Namjoon’s attention, “Moni! Put that down! Uh I gotta go, just text me later alright,” and with that he clicked, presumably to deal with his white feisty Eskimo.

Taehyung glanced at the clock which read 3:25PM, a small nap wouldn’t hurt right?

Sunday Morning.

So much for a “small nap”. Despite him having slept the whole Saturday off, Taehyung had woken up very early and in a good mood, ready to have himself a productive day.

He made himself breakfast that even a 5 year old could make: avocado toast with different slices of fruit and a simple protein shake. While letting his breakfast settle down in his stomach, he began to do his pre-workout stretch, with his goal in mind for today’s run being at least 6 miles.

After he was done stretching, he went down to the lobby making sure to politely greet his “neighbors”. They were the same people who kept tabs on him and sold him out to the press every chance they got, but not like he could lash out on them so instead he was forced to give them fake smiles along with stiff waves.

During his morning run, Taehyung took into appreciation of the crisp morning air which was both cold and dry. The view of the river brought him a sense of relaxation and before he knew it, he was done with his workout.

“What a beautiful day,” he had thought to himself as he walked back to his penthouse’s building, ready to take a much needed shower, but of course he should’ve known she was going to ambush him at some point because there she was, sitting in the building’s lobby.

Once she spotted him she immediately got up from the couch. He tried to quickly outpace her and get into the elevator, but she yanked on his hand preventing him from going any further.

“Stop avoiding me… please,” she sounded distraught which confused him. She certainly didn’t look distraught when she was getting her neck sucked on by Jungkook.

“Can we do this,” he pushed her hand off, “some other time. You’re gonna make a scene,” he scolded her. The two of them were in the middle of the lobby, and even though there seemed to be no one around, he could never be too sure.

“No because it seems this is the only way I could get your attention,” she muttered , “especially considering you removed my access,” causing him to let out a stifled laugh.

“Well that’s what someone does when they’re significant other hmm I don’t know cheats on them,” his voice emphasized the last words.

“I didn’t,” she quickly lowered her voice once she realized she had shouted that part out, “cheat on you,” she mumbled. “I was about to, but I didn’t,” she dramatically waved her finger at him.

“Yeah because I walked in on you?” he wondered if she knew how stupid she sounded.

“Well maybe if you showed me some affection every once in a while I wouldn’t have resorted to such acts!” What the two hadn't realized was that there was someone in the lobby quietly hiding behind a pillar, secretly recording the interaction between the two.

“Sunhi,” he ran his hand through his hair, letting out an exasperated sigh, “can you just leave me alone? There is no fixing this, especially since this,” he made a motion with his fingers pointing to the both of them, “has been broken for a very long time.” And with the final word, he turned around and walked away, not bothering to look at her face which had now fallen from expression.

Sunday Night.

“Kim Taehyung NASTY fight with girlfriend Sunhi. Click here for more.” was what the Twitter article headlined their argument, and of course the link provided the video of the whole thing.

[From: Namjoon 🐨]

[10:10] you really can be an ass [link to video]

[To: Namjoon 🐨]

[10:11] how!!

[10:11] i just told her the truth, at the end of the day no one can tell me that I was in the wrong 🤷🏻‍♂️

[From: Namjoon 🐨]

[10:12] you’d be surprised with what knetz have to say…

[10:13] them and the media are going crazy over you unfollowing her

Taehyung scoffed while unplugging his phone and rolling to the other side of bed now that his phone was at 100%.

[To: Namjoon 🐨]

[10:14] yea well idc.

[From: Namjoon 🐨]

[10:15] well at least ur out the relationship, that’s all that matters right 😬

[10:16] looks like ur back on the market … we all know how crazy that can get

Taehyung could feel himself become stiff at the last text. What was that supposed to mean? Maybe he was overthinking it too much…  

He was a different person now, he reassured himself. Before he could dwell on it any further he decided that it was best to just go to sleep.

Monday Afternoon.

The next day Taehyung continued with his routine of making a somewhat decent breakfast, and running his daily number of miles, crossing his fingers that he wouldn’t be ambushed like the morning prior. Luckily he wasn’t.

The sensation of steamy water hitting his body was calming to him, the shower was very much needed. Trying not to get so lost in his thoughts, he began to sing the random songs that first came to mind. He’d been told by Namjoon on multiple occasions that his singing was good, but Taehyung at this current moment was just glad he lived alone. Namjoon, or anyone for that matter, would probably make fun of him for the song he was um … rapping.

“Ain't got enough money to pay me respect. Ain't no budget when I'm on the set. If I like it, then that's what I get!” his sudden motions almost made him slip, but luckily he had caught himself just in time, “yeah,” he finished off the lyric despite his near death experience.

It was once he got out the shower that he was in for a surprise.

“7 Rings… really?” Taehyung’s towel almost fell from his waist because of his jump in surprise. Thankfully he had held onto it before it could completely fall. “I didn’t take you to be such an Ariana Grande fan,” Taehyung rolled his eyes to the teasing Namjoon.

“It’s the song of the summer for your information,” he interjected, “And how the hell did you even get up here?”

“Hmm I don’t know maybe because you practically forced me to get my fingerprint and memorize your code so that I would,” Namjoon mimicked quote signs with his fingers, “stop bugging you when I could open the door myself,” causing Taehyung’s stern face to quickly become one of dumbfoundeness.

“Oh…”

“I’ll be in the kitchen making myself some food,” he playfully sighed before making his way out of Taehyung’s room.

Taehyung quickly lotioned his body, put on his overnight hair products, and threw on a baggy sweater along with some black sweatpants, assuming that Namjoon hopefully wasn’t going to try and drag him to go outside. He had a long week ahead of him which included photoshoots, interviews, meetings, and overall promotion for this brand new deal considering he currently served as the “face” to his family’s business.

“Wow making japchae, who put you in a good mood?” Taehyung laughed as he peeped over Namjoon’s shoulder, catching a whiff of the food he was making causing Namjoon to flash his dimpled smile at him.

“Well I have a date in a couple of weeks and so I’ve been practicing every chance I get,” he admitted catching Taehyung by surprise, “and before you ask, yes it’s the girl from the event on Friday.”

Taehyung tried to subdue his shock, “If I’m being honest I thought she was kind of a…” he contemplated his next choice of words, “um…”

“A one night stand,” Namjoon completed the sentence, a look of understanding on his face. “Well if I’m being honest I thought the same thing,” he cheeks reddened, “but she actually ended up being really sweet, and well I really li—”

“Okay I think I’m done hearing your little sap story that you haven’t even started,” he pretends to yawn, causing Namjoon to flash his middle finger at him which only makes him laugh, “Sorry I’m not a hopeless romantic like you.”

Namjoon scoffed as he stirred the noodles around, “So what? Deep down you know you’re one as well.”

“Yeah yeah yeah, I’ve heard it all before. Why are you here again?” Namjoon flashed his middle finger again now causing Taehyung to laugh even harder than the first time.

“You sure know how to be rude sometimes,” Namjoon was now serving the japchae onto some plates, “and I’m here because one, I was bored, and two, because I was wondering if you were going to Thursday’s brunch,” the look on Taehyung’s face gave Namjoon the answer he was looking for.

“I completely forgot about that…”

“Why am I not surprised,” Namjoon sighed while giving Taehyung his plate of food.  

“It’s always the same old place, same old routine, and most importantly the same old people,” he made sure to emphasize that last part, “you’re telling me you don’t get bored?”

“I do, but look what happened last time, I met someone new!” Namjoon bragged, only resulting in Taehyung rolling his eyes once again. “You’re like the grinch, but for love I swear,” Namjoon groaned, mentally taking note that the pleasant look on Taehyung’s face meant he had done a good job at making japchae. As long as he followed the exact amount of ingredients and steps as he did today then his date would go along just fine.

Taehyung slurped the final remaining bits of food on his plate before responding to Namjoon, “I’m fresh out of a relationship Joon, let me enjoy being single for the time being.”

“In the media’s eyes you’re fresh out of a relationship, but you and I both know that you’ve been single for a very long time,” Taehyung stayed silent at Namjoon’s words, a sudden pang of guilt now hitting him as he recalled what he had told Sunhi in the lobby that past Saturday. Did Taehyung see Namjoon’s point? Yes, of course he did. Did it feel good hearing it? No, it didn’t.

“Well um guess what, she cheated on me. I remained faithful, which honestly,” he scoffed in between his words, “was the least I could do. So stop trying to paint me as some big villain,” he sneered.

“All I’m saying is that the Taehyung I know would have never even gotten into that relationship to begin with,” Namjoon silently muttered to himself, a dismissive look on his face, causing Taehyung to let out a sardonic laugh. As if Namjoon was a better person than he was?

“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?” he snapped, “You know I’m getting real tired of your little sly comments, as if i’m not going to catch on at some point, if you have something to say then grow some balls and say it,” Taehyung's voice echoed across the kitchen walls. Taehyung’s heart was practically pounding out of his chest, his jaw now completely clenched, glaring at Namjoon. The light atmosphere in the room had become stiff in the blink of an eye.

One would think that Namjoon would be shocked, maybe even angry at Taehyung’s outburst, but all he did was stare back, seeming completely unfazed, a pot that had been bubbling for quite some time between the two finally bubbling over. Withheld opinions, finally lashed out, “I’ll just never understand why you couldn’t break up with her from the moment your dad didn’t need you to date her anymore, or why you even got with her in the first place. All you did was waste her time and let her convince herself that she was in love with you knowing damn well you’ve never felt anything from day one. I mean even now she thinks there’s something worth saving,” he cursed, his voice now elevated up several notches, “And it’s the fact that you see nothing wrong with it that makes me sick!”

Taehyung’s face immediately fell, hurt by his friend’s words, but it didn’t stop Namjoon from continuing on, “I mean the Taehyung I knew would’ve never in a million years agreed to do something like this for anyone,” disappointment evident in his voice, “let alone for your dad,” he spat. “It just,” he pauses, “It just isn’t like you Taehyung. None of this is.”

Taehyung could feel his tough demeanor crumble, “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, so stop acting like you do,” he scowled.

“It’s just funny to me, years ago you’d talk about becoming nothing like your dad, but nowadays it looks like I’m looking at his clone,” Namjoon muttered, “You’ve changed Taehyung. You may joke around with me here and there, but I can tell you’re always holding back. You leave for a whole year to God knows where, and come back a completely different person, acting like your dad’s very own fucking puppet. You’ve closed yourself off. Like, like you’re mad at the world or something, or I don’t know—”

“And what, you want the old reckless Taehyung back?! The one who destroyed everything in his fucking path! Is that what the fuck you want?” his voice boomed, but even Namjoon could see it was merely a facade, the mixture of both guilt and sadness seeping through the cracks of his voice.

“Of course not! But the Taehyung standing in front of me is no better than the one before. You may not be as reckless as you used to be, but you’re definitely just as careless,” Namjoon condemned him, “And so then I think about everything and all I could ask myself is why? Why don’t you find something or someone, you genuinely love, something that makes you happy, not your dad, not the media, YOU.”

“Because I just don’t want to Joon…”  Taehyung looked away, ashamed to make eye contact, his voice had now become a mere whisper.

“And all I can think about is if it has something to do with —” Namjoon could see Taehyung physically tense up, “Taehyung what the hell happened that night?” he pleaded desperately.

“Just don’t Joon,” and with that Namjoon knew that even he was pushing the boundaries, deciding that it was best to just keep quiet, “I came back didn’t I? ” he harshly spat.

There was a pregnant pause, “I’m sorry,” Namjoon apologized, but was only met with silence. Taehyung got up from the kitchen chair, and placed his dish into the sink, harshly passing by Namjoon.

“Make sure you lock the door on your way out,” he muttered, before making his way upstairs into his room, leaving Namjoon standing in the kitchen by himself.

Monday Night.

And so that night, Taehyung stared up at his ceiling thinking about what Namjoon had told him. He was hurt by his friend’s words, but he couldn’t deny that he didn’t understand where he was coming from …

But it wasn’t like Taehyung was a cold hearted person, or at least he’d like to think he wasn’t. Behind it all, he was still the same kind and polite person he’d always been. He was just more mature nowadays, finally growing up like he should’ve years ago. It was simply for the best.

So then why did he feel so wrong?

He felt conflicted, he felt guilt, but honestly he had been feeling guilty long before he got into a relationship with Sunhi. Maybe it was that same guilt he’s felt eating him alive for the past several years that’s made him close himself off to others. It was the same guilt that led to disappearing one night and not coming back until about a year later.

Feeling overwhelmed, he decided to get up from bed, and stepped onto his balcony just wanting to just look at the stars before going to bed. Tonight they had seemed to be shining extra bright, he attempted at counting each one, losing count mid way. 

He couldn’t help but reminisce about his childhood, when he and his mom would go camping at Noeul Campground at least once a year, and oh how the stars would shine like never before. The two of them making a game of who could come up with the best figurines using the stars. It was nights like these that he truly did miss her, but he knew she was watching over him. Forever and always.

“I know I haven’t talked to you in a while, I hope you’re not mad. I know it’s no excuse, but time nowadays just goes by so fast and well I’m coming to a point in life where I feel like I have nothing figured out. Like as if I’m not truly satisfied, and not truly well … happy. I just feel lost, Ma. I thought coming back here, I could put the facade that I was fine but,” he lets out a deep breath,”I’m just not. God I wish you were here, you’d know exactly what to say right now,” he could feel the warm droplets of water falling from his face, not bothering to wipe them off. “I’m so sorry Ma,” were his final words before stepping back inside, a peaceful slumber waiting for him in bed.

Thursday Morning.

“Ah now this is what I’ve been looking forward to,” Namjoon grinned as politely grabbed the mimosa from the bartender’s hand. Taehyung made a motion with his hand once Namjoon offered him his cup, instead leaning against the bar watching as guests made their way in and out of the venue.

Taehyung and Namjoon had made up in the days prior, Taehyung sending a “btw the japchae was too sweet 🤭” text message, as a way of telling Namjoon that all was forgiven. Taehyung in return, reflected on Namjoon’s words, deciding that he was right, something needed to change.

“This place, it’s …” Namjoon expected a complaint out of Taehyung’s mouth, “really pretty,” he finished off, genuinely surprising Namjoon.

The venue resembled some kind of greenhouse, the arrangement of dangling flowers and potted plants, along with the rays of natural sunlight peeking through the glass exterior, and the minimalist design in seat arrangement truly was a work of art. The air itself felt crisp and fresh, he assumed it was because of the mixture of the plants’ scent along with the air ventilators.

“Wow, look who's in a good mood,” Namjoon teased him, Taehyung flashing him a small smile. Despite it only being 9 o'clock in the morning, he was glad he came. It was a brand new day, and he felt optimistic that things were going to start looking up for him.

“Ah well, let’s just enjoy it while it lasts,” he responded clearly joking around, “Let’s just say I thought about everything you said, and well I just want to start fresh. No more getting pressured into things, and being so tense about everything all the time, just me going with the flow,” Namjoon quirked his eyebrow, genuinely interested in what Taehyung had to say, “Whatever happens…” he pauses, “happens,” he finishes off, a grin now on his face.

As the brunch event went on, Taehyung continued to observe people, examining what they wore, the way they spoke, how they acted, as it usually told him a lot about a person.

“I’ll take a bloody mary, light on the vodka please,” Taehyung’s ears perked up at what he heard, a bloody mary? This early in the morning? He remembered the bartender’s words from a couple of days ago.

He tried to glance at the figure who was only a couple of feet away from him, sitting in one of the many empty seats aligned at the bar. He tried using his peripheral vision to try and make out a face, but sadly whoever this was, the angle that they were sitting along with their honey colored straw hat helped cover most of their face. The only thing he could see was that whoever it was, was a female and clearly a reckless one as a bloody mary was most likely going to result in an embarrassing stain.

He wondered if she was new around here, the way she was sitting clearly told him that she probably was. You see there were almost unspoken rules in the upper class, methods on doing things, and a high regard for appearance and well her posture wasn’t exactly… the best, and the blatant disregard for the all white dress code made him curious as to who she was. Like there was some kind of pull that made him feel the need to go up to her. She seemed … different.

“And you wanted to come at me for gawking last time! You can’t even see her face from here,” Namjoon’s undeniably loud voice interrupted his train of thought.

“Um any fucking louder and I’m sure the whole place will hear you,” Taehyung face was flushed, hoping the woman didn’t hear. Namjoon raised his hands in defense.

“Hm …” Namjoon stayed silent for a couple of seconds, before a mischievous look appeared on his face, “Hey well since you’re so keen about going with flow,” he mimicked Taehyung’s word’s from earlier, “how about you go get her number and see where things go from there,” he winked. 

Taehyung quickly shook his head, garnering a laugh out of Namjoon. “Since when has Kim Taehyung been too scared to ask for someone’s number,” he teased, “Come on you know you want to, I’ll even go find something else to do just in case she rejects you, I won’t be there to see it.”

He contemplated going up to her, what if she was just another Upper Seoul brat? Worse, what if Namjoon was right and she just completely shrugged him off? No, no one shrugged Kim Taehyung off. Namjoon's grin became wider once he saw Taehyung’s eyebrows furrow, and a determined look appearing on his face.

And so with that he decided he’d go up to her, maybe try and make some small talk. It wouldn't hurt , right? At least he wouldn’t be as bored as he was now. Slowly he made his way over to the seat next to her, trying not to look so much like a creep.

“I’ll take a mimosa please,” he ordered, the bartender nodded, “So you’re not scared of spilling your drink?” Taehyung quickly noticed how tense the woman became from his question, her posture going from relaxed to completely stiff. It wasn’t until she turned to face him that Taehyung felt taken back, his heart now pounding out of his chest, and the feeling of nervousness hitting him like a wave. As cliche as he thought it sounded, she was completely mesmerizing.

“Oh uh well,” she stuttered her words out bringing him a sense of comfort that he wasn’t the only nervous one,“um,” she was looking anywhere but his eyes, “No not really, I tend to be careful with things like this,” she explained now fidgeting with her fingers. 

Maybe it had been bad luck, but a couple of seconds later Taehyung suddenly now had red tomato juice mixed with vodka plastered all over his shirt. “Oh my God! I am so sorry!” she exclaimed. 

Several guests were now staring at the scene in front of them, the unknown girl now had a look of horror on her face, but instead of being upset all Taehyung could do was genuinely laugh. “I really didn’t mean to do that, oh my—”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he reassured her, slowly pushing her hand away which was uselessly blotting his white buttoned up shirt with a napkin.

“No it’s not, I really didn’t mean to do that, I just—” her face was as red as the spilled drink itself, her words coming out completely jumbled almost as if she was talking more to herself than him.

“And I’m telling you it’s okay,” he insisted, “I think you’ve done the most interesting thing around here in a very long time,” he then stuck his hand out, “I’m Taehyung,” he introduces himself, giving her a small smile along the way.

It felt like she was staring at him for an eternity with nothing but a doe-eyed look on her face, and he wondered what was going through her head. Was he really that intimidating? With several thoughts running through his head, the feeling of regret now creeped onto the back of his mind, maybe he shouldn’t have ever come up to her. What was he thinking? This was practically all his fault.

His panic came into a halt once he felt the touch of her hand now moving along with his, “I’m Y/N.”

🧚🏻 a/n: here we goooo! finally kicking things off hehe, things should defiantly move faster from this point on, I just felt like it was important for me to establish both y/n and Taehyung’s personality, background, and all that good stuff before diving into the basis of the whole story. feel free to send me any theories, comments, asks, etc ! I shall update very soon. 

[iamnightduchess]

ReinerxMikasa (ReiKasa) Extremely Kinky A to Z Ask Game (R20+) Headcanon #19

*Update: 24 March 2021

A continuation of this ask & inspired by this original post. Dedicated to @xrocketmanx for their amazing 💖 on my ko-fi page!

(A/N: ‼️WARNING‼️Graphic description of very explicit smut with potentially provocative images ⛔ Please don't click Keep Reading if you're below 20 🙅‍♀️ Sorry kiddos! To my more adult readers, please absorb this post's content with appropriate discretion & maturity)

(In complete Alphabetical Order)

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

People expect Reiner to be the one who would jump off the bed immediately soon after when they’re done but on the contrary, he just loves lying there and holding Mikasa in his arms post-coitus. Although, they do sleep with Mikasa lying on his chest most nights. Mikasa wasn’t used to be held intimately in the first few months of their relationship, so the first time they made love, Reiner gave her the space that she needed before, during and after. It was Mikasa who finally initiated their first cuddle post-coitus after the next several weeks.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Reiner: Very confident of his physical appearance and in his skin. He really loves everything on and about Mikasa. He loves her body type the way she is - to him, hers is just perfect. But, his most favorite body part of hers he'd like to touch first every time he could is her hands. He just like holding her hands when he wakes up, winding down for the night & even when he's asleep.

Mikasa: This woman, despite having a bombshell athletic figure, still secretly feels insecure of the way she looks. She loves Reiner's biceps the most - at home, she'll sneak a quick peck or a nibble on his biceps when he's doing the dishes or making dinner. She also likes to snuggle up to him on the couch with his arm draped around her shoulders, sometimes until she falls asleep.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… lol)

She...swallows? 🙈 (holy shizz i'm not so sure of this one. Can't think of a suitable answer without being cringey 🤣)

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Reiner & Mikasa once had a quickie inside the changing booth during a beach trip with their friends. Reiner had also went down on Mikasa after dinner at his mum's place, right in Karina's laundry room because he 'accidentally' spilt some wine on her dress & wanted to get her dress cleaned up. He ended up having her as dessert on top of the moving dryer & she left her underwear there by accident.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

They were both not each other’s first lovers but when they first got together, the experience is like being with no other. They discovered new parts & points of not only their significant other’s physical & spiritual strengths but also their own respective preferences as well. Reiner’s quite a ladies’ man during his early years in the military but after a while, he got bored of the game. Meeting Mikasa, he realised he wants to play the game again but this time to win it for good. Mikasa has only been with one boyfriend since college & being with Reiner opened her eyes up to vast possibilities.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

No, Reiner doesn't do the Military Style despite being a military man 🤣 Missionary & Cow Girl are their standard starting positions. Despite Mikasa being very flexible, which gave them more advantage in attempting the more physically-challenging positions, but the following are their more favorite experimental ones:

Oasis

Basket

Watering Can

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

A little bit of both, no doubt. Reiner has a dorky sense of humor & Mikasa's odd humor makes for a good tension-breaking combination. Their foreplays always begin with a good laugh - with Reiner ghosting his teasing touches on her love handles. Gets her in the mood for some serious sexing every time.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

For both, the carpets matched the drapes. Mikasa tried Brazillian wax once and uhh...Reiner abstained for a week & a half because he prefers her au naturalé 🙈 He said it felt odd from what he's used to haha

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

There are days they’ll just have a quickie if they get in the mood while just chilling, watching TV together after dinner. Before the children came, they would always have slow, intense eye-gazing, tantric, unrushed lovemaking. After the twins came into the picture, they’ll be lucky if they can even have cuddle time together >D Mikasa doesn’t say “I love you” out-loud but showed it in the way she touches & kisses Reiner’s arm when he’s in the kitchen making dinner or when he’s giving the twins a bath.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Oooh...Reiner rarely does this after he dated Mikasa & married her. But he loves getting her to touch herself in the showers. While he watches.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Did i tell you about their muscle kink & how much they love each other’s muscles?? Roleplay :) They like to pretend they’re strangers meeting in a cafe or a hotel bar and later have a ‘pretend one-night stand’ with each other haha It keeps the flame burning! (i posted a oneshot on this.)

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Home: bedroom, kitchen and in his home office. In the showers too!

They're not one to do it in public but they did have several outdoor trysts on the back of his 4WD while having a romantic night under the stars.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going) haha can't help not including this gif

When Mikasa rubs one of Reiner's thighs, rest assured that his gears will be running. Meanwhile when Reiner nuzzles her neck and started caressing her abs, oh it's an on for her alright.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

⛔ Backdoors are a big N.O ⛔

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

They're both amazing givers... You know what it means: 34 + 35 🤫 Reiner would sometimes initiates when Mikasa's already asleep. Remember that Zoom Conference & online gaming session? Mikasa likes to get back at Reiner when he least expects it.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Both depending on their moods...quickies are usually fast pounding yet not too rough, Reiner respects Mikasa too much to ever be at risk of hurting her. Usually their lovemaking would be sensual & soul-bonding at the same time.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Mikasa prefers to wear pants when they ever go for outings, movie trips, hiking trips. But, she wears skirts when they're visiting their families for a reason: smoother access for quickies. The moment she walks down the stairs in a beautiful dress before they head to his mum's or her aunts', Reiner already knows it. They be getting freaky with a quickie later 🙈

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Reiner & Mikasa are very experimental in the bedroom. Sure, they don’t have frequent lovemaking but when they’re in the mood, fireworks are a guarantee throughout with different new positions ;) Risk-taker? Let’s just say Reiner’s virility and Mikasa’s flexibility provided a lot of perks in their love lives together (and some pregnancy scares too! before they were ready to conceive) Mikasa once gave Reiner head while they're stuck in traffic heading into a road block. He'd finished just before the the car in front of them pass the inspection 🙈

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Ooh boy, all night haha Rounds: 2 max at one time. Duration: At least 1.5hours X) They both are super fit, athletic people so one can expect their staminas to be nothing less than subpar. *cough* In Canon AU: Max 4 times or 1/3 of the night *winks* because supernatural & acker powers!

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

No, they don't 🙈

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Goes without saying: a lot. Mikasa likes to wear Reiner's tshirts/ dress shirts at home to tease him. While Reiner likes to wear his reading glasses a lot at home because that is one of her biggest turn ons from him.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Mikasa's the quiet one between the two and the loudest she'd ever been was just a deep, heavy whimper. Reiner's the louder one that sometimes Mikasa would have to smother him when they're having a quickie 🤣

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Even after more than 20 years together, Reiner and Mikasa still make out like they're teenagers - pretending to sneak around and grinding in hidden, cramped spaces away from their kids.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Mikasa : Dynamite & powerful grip - thighs and you-know-what (even after 3 kids!)

Reiner : Thicc - ass & this man is packing. He has girth!

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

On a scale of 1 to 10, with 10 being the highest: 15 🤣 There's something about getting Mikasa to relax and laugh during their chill time, that just instantaneously revved up their engines at the same time. Reiner is a very tender, romantic person & Mikasa cannot resist it when he starts to tell her how much he loves her & appreciates her. He likes to kiss her hand when they're just hanging out even with friends. Everything Reiner does is genuine & that warms her heart everytime.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Reiner would be the first to go out like a light & Mikasa just likes to rest her head on his chest and hear his beating heart & relaxed breathing. Mikasa thinks Reiner's little snores are adorable. But when they're just cuddling on the couch, Mikasa would fall asleep first & Reiner would carry her to the bed.

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

A/N: I had a lot of fun with this & I hope you'll enjoy it too! Thank you so much for the support & love 💖 xoxo More asks to come!

[harrykilledmoi]

Silence + Noise | Part One

1985. Manhattan, New York.

Noise, a live fast, die young, wild child living in the Chelsea Hotel, meets Harry, a newly immigrated, struggling, young poet in search of inspiration.

This is a story about life. A life so loud it’s quiet, and so quiet it’s silent. Fast and fleeting. It's about music and poetry and art in the filthy dwellings of its creators in New York City.

Rated: M (for language) Word Count: 5.3K Themes:  AU, angst, 80s!Harry, Poetrry, love at first sight??? Pairing: Harry Styles x OFC Warnings: drug use + addiction, smoking

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Harry remembers the exact date and time that he first saw her.

June 30th, 1985.

10:34pm.

Although it could've been 10:36 as he was still unsure if his wristwatch was still running two minutes too slow. He does, however, vividly remember the weather.

The last remnants of spring were being washed away with the droplets that cascaded from the heavens that night. He'd thought he'd been lucky enough to leave the rain behind when he moved to New York, but like his writer's block, it seems the heavy clouds followed him across the pond as well. He was in search of inspiration and his small English county could no longer provide that for him. He'd only been in the city for a week but had still yet to find his footing, his place. It was the very words of Ginsberg that brought him to the seedy, down-at-the-heels boroughs of New York City, that propelled him to get on that plane, that brought him to her. Whatever the poets of Gotham were smoking, he wanted in.

He'd been walking down Canal Street that night, the rain lightly kissing the tops of his cheeks, puddles flooding around the soles of his loafers. Why he'd decided to wear the dark leather footwear on a night like that night was beyond him. It was his first official night out in the city, so it could be said that he subconsciously wanted to look his best. He'd spent his first week in the city holed up in his apartment. A corner walk up in an old hotel that rented rooms by the month.

The Hotel Chelsea.

The heartbeat of the city located in its underbelly.

He knew it from literature, from music, from art. He was told it was where artists are conceived, born, and died in a never ending forest fire of pathos, ethos, and on very rare occasions, logos. Swimming in a pool of their own shit and only their own shit, and then somehow making it glitter like gold. He was told it was where the muses lived. Every single one, from every myth and every legend. He was just waiting to meet his own.

He ducks into a dimly lit concrete stairwell when the rain begins to pick up. Soaking through the unbuttoned-at-the-top shirt he'd been gifted by a friend before leaving home. He stands under the small coverage provided by the building above him. Watching as bright yellow taxi cabs wiz by, distorting the already distorted refraction of soft warm light that spilled from the street lamps above. He watches a couple kiss in the rain before departing and going their separate ways and yet, although he was in the presence of such a magnificent amount of pulchritude, Harry was still unable to string words together into a verse that would do it justice.

A muffled cheer sounds from behind a door he hadn't realized led to anything, catching his attention. He turns, peaking into the frosted glass window located in the center of the old wooden door, leaning so close his nose flattens against it and his breath fogs the glass beyond its frost. He squints, trying to get a peek inside when the door swings open. He steps back swiftly, heart pounding, lungs heaving for air, hand pressed to his chest. The culprit, standing in the doorway eyeing him. Platinum blonde hair is the first thing he sees, then a sharply arched eyebrow over icy blue irises, and a cigarette, pressed between two lips painted in a maraschino cherry hue.

Harry struggles to collects himself when she side steps and gestures for him to enter or leave, either way, the purpose was to get him out of her way. His eyes are still locked on hers, swimming the in whirlpool of her energy, feet about to touch the sandy bottom of the frozen ocean within her eyes.

A snap of her fingers in the space between them pulls him out of his liquid dream like a buoy pulling a drowning boy to safety.

"Move it or lose it, I haven't got all day."

Her voice is unlike anything Harry had ever heard before. Although she looked lithe and delicate, her voice held grit and power. With an edge Harry could only imagine the sharpness of.

He squeezes past her through the door, their chest brushing as he scuttles. He dwindles when he catches a whiff of her. Whiskey and cigarettes and something else he couldn't quite put his finger on. Vanilla? Sandalwood? Whatever it was, he wanted more of it.

She scoffs as she pushes past him into the evening downpour, forcing him further than he'd planned on going. He turns quickly and watches her ascend the drenched concrete steps as the door closes, her tall, chunky heeled boots slapping against them like duck wings on water.

He stands there, staring through the small rectangular window at her blurred silhouette. It isn't until he's shoved lightly to the side, and then back, further into the bar by people trying to exit, that he realizes just how long he'd been standing there. In the process he loses sight of her.

The door opens again and Harry is pulled further into the small bar by a wayward group of people. He concedes in that moment, walking through the dive on at his own accord. His mind still spinning with a looped triptych of the encounter.

This was a new experience for Harry, the momentary loss of self in a stranger, specifically supernal, a particularly peculiar case of sonder. He'd had the luxury of knowing everyone in his small town and therefore had not been afforded the company of fresh faces and anomalous auras for the majority of his adult years of life. This was a feeling Harry wanted to relish in, to drink and be drunk on and its catalyst had just walked out the door to indulge in her nicotine laced vice, and in all probability, to not to be seen by him again. New York is a big city. All big, blinding lights and an even bigger populace.

That, however, didn't stop him from nursing an inaudible prayer on his lips as he ambles carefully through the bar, hoping, while trying to keep hold of realistic expectations, to catch a glimpse of the fair-haired sparkler one more time before he, himself, burned out.

The room, puzzlingly humid, dimly lit, and thick with people, carried the stench of old beer and rotting wood. A heavy cloud of cigarette smoke floats up from the crowd and threads through the dank wooden beams of the ceiling. The walls, covered in a deep red, are peeling and fading into a grimy brown, reminding Harry of the rust that sat on his neighbour's old chevy back in Cheshire. The floor, beer soaked wood that Harry was sure could give out at any moment if they weren't below street level.

Everyone in the room was gathered around a small stage made of old skids in the middle of the small space. A woman, small in stature with tousled brown hair tucked under a dark gray pageboy cap and black, thick rimmed glasses, stands on the stage in front of a microphone.

Harry heads to what he assumes could only be the bar. As if the rows of liquor bottles located behind a very well groomed young man hadn't been a clear enough indicator. His look, a stark contrast to the dwellers in the bar. A crisp white short sleeve button up, tucked into a pair of sharp black trousers, held in place with a black belt, silver buckle.

"What can I get you?"

Harry looks up at the bartender, then over to the bottles of liquor on the wall. A decent sized plank of driftwood sits snug in the center of the middle row of bottles. 'The Sick Rose' it read in a delicate, hand-painted cursive, the same red that dressed the walls.

He looks back over at the bartender who is watching him, waiting patiently for his answer.

"Whiskey, neat."

The bartender smiles before turning to grab the bottle of whiskey from the shelf behind him. He grabs a glass from under the bar top and place it in front of Harry before pouring.

Harry watches him intently, taking in every detail. From the way his brows furrow when the liquor splashes up against the side of the cup and onto the bar to the 'nectar of the gods' glisten of the liquid in the glass.

With a tight but genuine smile, the bartender pushes the glass towards him. Harry reaches into his pants and takes out a balled up fiver. He flattens it out on the bar top, a light, embarrassed chuckle leaves his lips before he hands it over, returning the smile with a curt nod.

Feedback bleeds momentarily over the sound of soft conversation drawing Harry's attention. He picks up his drink and turns his attention to the stage.

She's seated on a high stool, the woman on stage, and has a cigarette pressed between her middle and index fingers, the smoke cascading up to join the rest of the crowd's. In her other hand, an old, black and white school jotter with several coloured post-it notes sticking out of every side.

She gets off the stool and steps towards the mic, poised with her book open and resting on her forearm, against her chest. She speaks with candor. Her tone rhythmic, almost musical.

She pauses and the verse rings in Harry's ears. A dull ache pulses through his chest. The tips of his fingers tingle. There's an itch trickling up from under his skin that grows with every word, every pause, every breath.

This is what he'd been looking for. What he had come to New York for. To live and exist as the wordsmiths before him. In a dark dingy basement bar, last legs, glass of whiskey in hand, cigarette smoke clinging to every space. No more thicker than the voltaic energy that has the hair on his arms standing at attention. The baring of souls in stanza, in verse, in caesura, in rhyme. A chorus of pain and lust and life, oh to live a life like this. And now it was his.

He rubs his arm but knows that that isn't what will satiate his craving.

That the only cure lies within the keys of his typewriter and alabaster sheet of 8 ½ by 11.

Harry takes another generous sip of his drink with peeled ears and attentive heart. Hoping that the ability to write something, anything, would strike him like the lightning that had been streaking the sky that night.

He'd almost forgotten about her in the hurricane of poems and poets that swept on and off stage throughout the night. But when he sees her again, hours later, the initial rush of titillation he had felt returns like an unexpected punch to the gut.

He's three glasses of cheap whiskey deep, leaning against the small bar top. The crowd in the bar had gotten boisterous, rowdier, and now instead of poets baring their souls to the patrons, there's a louder than hell band on stage. He's sure they have no idea how to play their instruments but the magnanimity of their outrageous on stage antics made them entertaining enough to watch. The lead singer had broken a bottle over his head and made out with three different women on stage within the span of ten minutes and yet, once Harry had caught sight of the platinum stick of dynamite, he couldn't take his eyes off her.

She's seated in a worn leather booth at the far end of the room. And although there were copious amounts of intoxicated people standing between them, Harry had managed to maintain a clear and direct line of view.

The first thing he noticed was the smug smirk that never seemed to leave her lips. It was as if she was holding onto a secret that no one, not even herself, knew. The second was that she wasn't alone.

Next to her in the booth sat two people, a man, neck full of tattoos and decked out in leather. His dark, shoulder length hair looked as if it hadn't seen a wash in weeks but Harry could admit that the man was quite handsome, in a dangerous, "I'd steal your car" kind of way. The other, a woman, wild curly hair, tucked under a black beret. Her dark skin shown against the dim lighting in the bar and was a stark contrast to the bright red, latex dress she had on. The outfit was soaked in intimidation but the smile she had affixed on her face as she whispered to the object of Harry's full attention, was soft and genuine.

The blonde head of hair whipped around in Harry's direction and their eyes catch each other's.

In a movement too swift for him to register himself, he turns to face the bar, an embarrassing warmth making its way up his neck. He orders another drink even though he already has a full one in his hand. He throws it back, finishing it before the bartender could put the new one in front of him. Harry takes in a deep breath, trying to settle his nerves before turning back to catch one more glimpse of the blonde matchstick before calling it a night, but just like before she'd disappeared. In fact, the only person sitting there was her female friend, the male compatriot had disappeared as well.

Harry can't help but wonder. Had she gone out for a cigarette, or had she decided to take the brooding tattooed man back to hers. Maybe she'll be back. Maybe she wouldn't. Maybe she was still here.

He scans the room before his body propels him forward, a heart over head start of an active search, removing him from the bar and into the crowd on people. Popping up every now and then to see over the sea of heads.

When he finally does spot her again, she and neck tattoos are wedged in the narrow hallway leading to the restrooms. Their chests pressed together as they speak in hushed, harsh voices.

"Neck Tattoos" holds a small plastic bag above her head, a frown etched deeply in the curve of his brow and the edges of his lips. Harry watches as she attempts to grab the bag back from the man but fails, falling into him, her head turning and immediate locking eyes with Harry's curiously impeding stare. Her eyebrows furrow and her lips pucker. Her gaze is intense, hard but it sends a neon jolt of electricity through Harry's body.

She looks away, pushing herself away from "Neck Tattoos'" chest, as she makes another attempt to grab the baggy from him by propping herself up onto her toes. His large tattooed hand wraps itself around her wrist tightly and her eyebrows furrow in pain as he leans closer to her. Harry's body jerks forward as her eyes drift back over to his. His legs move to carry him closer but halts momentarily to size up the situation.

He'd always been someone who thought about actions and their consequences before making rash decisions. Logical and reliable were words that could be said to be synonymous with Harry Styles.

Heck! The most impulsive thing he'd ever done was what had brought him into this very situation. He didn't think a bar fight would be in the cards for him, ever. But he figures there's a first time for everything.

Harry makes his way over to them as quickly as he can, bobbing and weaving through the crowd, trying to keep an eye on the situation all the while trying to figure out how he was going to incapacitate "Neck Tattoos", who looked to be about a whole head taller than him.

The crowd seems to be fighting against him, trying to keep him away but he fights against it anyway. In that moment, Harry likens himself to salmon swimming upstream in the frigid autumn waters. A dangerous journey but to give up would go against their nature. Fight, however, was not in his nature but he thought himself fiercely passionate and empathetic which could be the same, he thinks. Harry finally breaks through the crowd and is within spitting distance of the two just as the snowy haired firecracker winds up and socks "Neck Tattoos" square in the nose.

Harry's eyes widen as "Neck Tattoos" falls, landing at his feet. He stares at the man on the floor before trailing his sights up to the woman who'd mystified him the short time they had been aware of the other's existence.

Her hand whips up and down as if shaking it will rid it of the throbbing that had begun to consume the limb. She bends down over "Neck Tattoos", retrieving the reason for the abruptly violent situation that oddly enough, no one else in the small bar acknowledged. She pats him on the shoulder comfortingly, her smirk returning to its place between her lips.

"Probably should get that checked out John. Broken nose wouldn't do that pretty face any favours."

Her words are firm but underneath it, there was a hint of something that told Harry that she actually was friends with "Neck Tattoos". That she cared about him, although her actions seemed to say otherwise.

She stands, and in the process notices one of her bruised knuckles bleeding. She brings it to her mouth, and it's all Harry can stare at, eyes still as wide as a deer in headlights.

Her icy blue orbs move up from the floor to Harry's face and he melts.

"Thanks for all the help man."

Her blood stained lips spit the sarcastic benediction with the prick of a sharp dagger.

Harry blinks. He opens his mouth and finds it hard to form words with the amount of indescribable feelings rushing through his blood stream, or maybe it was just the alcohol.

She sighs, rolling her eyes, and pushes past him, stepping over "Neck Tattoos", to a door adjacent to them. Harry twists his head to follow her, in a daze. It isn't until a loud clang sounds, the door closing, that he snaps out of it.

The spinning in his head comes to a standstill but the bubbling in his veins is far from subsiding.

His body is moving towards the door before his head can even fathom it. The pull is so magnetic. It's as if his soul had left his body and is pulling him along by hand, it's celestial.

He moves quickly, almost a blur, as he jogs out of the bar and into a dark lit alley. The rain had stopped and had left behind tiny reflective orbs of liquid on every surface that sparkled even in the darkness. He spins to his left, then his right in search of a halo of bleached tresses but comes up short.

A weight lands on his chest and trickles down to the pit of his stomach.

Regret, maybe. Nausea, definitely.

Should've said something.

He spins on the heels of his now drenched loafers with the intention of heading back inside to grab one more drink and quell his overstimulated mind and heart. He reaches for the large metal handle, when something catches his eye. A spark, several. Flickering and flashing to an off kilter beat. Small but bright in the darkness of the alley.

He closes his eyes and takes in a breath before letting go of the door handle. He takes a step away from the door, relieving his filled lungs with an aggressive puff. He's already been reckless thus far tonight, what's one more ill informed decision.

He opens his eyes and takes a few cautious steps towards the continuous tiny combustion. Slowly, hands curled in tight fists in case something or someone jumped out at him. In case he met one of those colossal rodents that New York was so famous for.

When he gets closer and his eyes adjust to the low light, he sees her. Leaning up against the grimy, graffiti filled, brick wall of the bar, cigarette between her lips, lighter in her bruised hand, pint glass filled with beer in the other. A brisk breeze flows through the wind tunnel alley way as she struggles with the lighter. A slick curse passes her lips every time the lighter goes out without lighting the cigarette.

Harry walks up to her, still cautious but fists unclenched.

"Need help?"

Harry chokes out the words but it's enough to cause her eyes to flick up, landing on the smile he struggles to keep soft. He doesn't wait for an answer, instead he steps forwards, cupping his hands around the lighter when she tries to flick it again. This time, the cigarette lights and she breathes out an audible sigh that dances around the smoke as it leaves her lips and Harry finally finds his voice.

"Y'alright?"

His eyes trace the lines of her face that are faintly illuminated by the end of her cigarette. Her soft lines a stark contrast to her hard glare. The corner of her lips fixed in a subtle scowl.

"Could be better."

Harry nods. He racks his brain for something to say. Anything to hold her attention for just a little while. Anything to keep this energy, au courant, from fizzling out.

If words came easier to him he wouldn't be in this alley. He'd be back in Holmes Chapel, in his makeshift cave of books and trinkets and old wood. With candles that smelt of Christmas and full body warmth, and his family would be just a quick jaunt away.

"You like poetry?"

Idiot.

He mentally curses his inability to come up with something less benign but stops when she lets out a loud, choking laugh. Her head tossed back in sweet amusement.

"Do I like poetry?"

She forces out through her chuckles.

"Is that a line?"

Her eyebrow peaks as she takes another drag of her cigarette then blows the smoke in Harry's direction. He blinks rapidly, the smoke causing his eyes to gloss over.

"You don't have to try so hard. If you wanted to take me home then all you had to do is ask. You're pretty and honestly I'm not picky."

Harry's eyes widen as he shakes his head, his eyes darting to a piece of soaked garbage on the cement, a candy wrapper.

Never had he met a woman so forward, so unapologetically crass and yet, still so enthralling.

"S'not what I want," he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth. His front teeth press down so heavily he thinks he might've drawn blood.

"Really?"

She flicks the ash of her cigarette and brings it back up to her lips. A crooked smile cause the smoke to exit her mouth from the side rather than in Harry's face. He nods, it's subtle, but she acknowledges his answer.

"Doesn't seem like it. You've been watching me all night and when people do that it usually means one of two things. One, you want to fuck them or two," she take another drag, "you're a perverted stalker."

Harry's attention snaps back at her.

"M'not a stalker."

She steps closer to him, her body flush with his.

"I believe you," her voice is soft as her hand runs down Harry's shirt collar, fingers hovering just above where his exposed skin starts and not stopping its descent, "and that's sad because I'm sure we would've had a good time. Never done it with one of the Queen's sons before. Guess I won't be crossing that off my bucket list tonight."

She steps away from him and flicks her cigarette. It hits the wall causing the cherry to burst and glowing ash to trickle down like fireworks on the fourth of July. She walks past him towards the door but pauses before opening it. Looking over her shoulder at him, she shakes her head and laughs before disappearing into the building.

Harry stands alone in the alley. His body quivers with shock, with fear, with sheer excitement.

His heart was beating in his ears. His head, a spinny, dizzying top, unrelenting in its momentum.

He attempts to steady his breathing as he leaves the alley, stepping onto the sidewalk. The streets no longer bare as the patrons of bars and clubs alike pour out, where they'd follow the call of the rest of their night. An after party here, a quick, regrettable in the morning fuck there.

Harry bobs and weaves through people, still high off of the sheer aura of the woman. Missing a step and nearly eating shit as he descends down the stairs into Canal Street station.

He dawdles through the station, stopping to take a look at some of the musings of urban philosophers in permanent marker on the walls. Declarations of love and lust, names of places and people, numbers if you're in need of a good time.

"I'm sure we would've had a good time."

He checks his pockets for his wallet or some change when he gets to the pay toll but comes up short. He throws his head back and sends a curse out to the universe.

A chime sounds and Harry double times his pace, looking left and right before hopping over the turnstile. All but flying down the steps, he glides into the train just as the doors begin to close, narrowly missing his torso.

He catches his breath as he looks around the near empty train car for a seat. An elderly woman with a small buggy filled to the brim with groceries offers him a soft smile to which he returns as her makes his way to the far end of the car.

He takes a seat, his back to the window. He clasps his hands together as the train enters the tunnel. His body shakes and rumbles with the movements of the vehicle as a loud, low whistle fills the space around him.

He leans back, resting his head against the glass with eyes closed. Words bloom behind his eyelids like spring flowers but refusing to link together like a daisy chain to create anything worth writing down. His lips part as a heavy sigh floats past them. The train comes to a halt as his eyes open with the door.

His eyes shift to the doors as the elderly woman makes her way slowly off the train.

She passes and when she's clear of his line of view, a glimmer of pale blonde catches his eye.

A few blinks and a double take help clear his vision.

There she is. Sitting at the other end of the train, head bobbing back and forth to the tempo of whatever tune is floating through the headphones that are snug around her ears. A bright red portable cassette player rests on her lap, legs clad in houndstooth.

Although she was quite a distance away from him, he could see her now. Really see her. Her hair glows in the fluorescent subway lights and Harry is like a moth to a flame.

When she stands to get off the train, he does as well. Stepping out of the train a few doors down from her. On the wall, in mosaic tile is the name of the station, his stop. He heads towards the stairs, staggering his pace to stay a few feet behind her.

She walks with purpose, with power. A strut that says stay the fuck out of my way.

When they make all the same turns Harry chalks it up to more than coincidence.

Divine intervention maybe? Not likely.

As they both close in on the hotel, Harry decides that he's going to say something. But when she stops abruptly in her tracks, it throws him for a loop. His legs, not quite registering what was happening, continue to bring him forward and closer to her than he'd planned. She spins around quickly, her eyes landing directly on his as he stops a few steps away from her.

"Are you following me?"

She points a sharply manicured finger at him. Harry steps back, shaking his head. He holds up his hands in surrender.

"M'not. I swear, it's just a-"

"Pervy stalker," a sing-song lilt carries the accusation from her mouth to Harry's ears.

Harry's eyebrows furrow.

"I live here?" It's a question more than a statement. He points to the building.

"You sure? You don't seem so sure."

Harry clears his throat as his hands fall to his sides.

"I do, I live here."

She raises an inquisitive eyebrow.

"Where's your key?"

Harry sighs, defeated.

"Was in my wallet, but I lost it."

"Your key?"

"My wallet."

She hums, nodding slowly. Her eyes narrow as she leans forward. She steps back and turns on her heel.

"Sucks."

She approaches the front door of the hotel, putting her key in the lock. She pulls it open with brute force before looking over at Harry, who's standing in the middle of the sidewalk, alone.

"Well are you coming or what?"

He nods quickly as he breaks into a light jog. Slipping past her through the door she'd holding open with her back.

As they begin their ascent up the main square spiral staircase Harry can't help but let his mind wander. Questions bounce around his mind and on to his tongue like a diving board. A deep dive, cannonball wave pool displaces his quietness.

"What's your name?"

It's soft but she hears him.

"Noise."

Her voice echoes off the walls, stinging like a sour note.

"Noise? Your parents couldn't have possibly-"

"They didn't," she cuts him off with an over shoulder smirk so devious Harry could swear for a split second he'd seen the devil himself. Afraid to ask anymore questions he stays quiet.

They reach the 4th floor and she stops, turning around the face him.

"This is me," she points to a bright teal door, the number 412 affixed to the center in bold brass.

Harry nods.

"Where're you headed?" She asks.

"512," his answer is curt as he keeps his eyes on the ground.

"Not sure how you're gonna get in without a key. You might just have to sleep in the hallway until maintenance comes in the next few hours."

Harry groans but nods, wishing her a goodnight, frustrated that he wouldn't he able to sleep in his own bed tonight.

He turns and begins to continue up the stairs.

"Hey 512," Noise calls out. Harry stops mid step and turns around to a mound of black leather being tossed in his direction. He fumbles when it hits his chest but catches it, his wallet.

"Welcome to New York."

Harry watches as she slides through her front door. His eyes narrow but the corner of his mouth lifts as he jogs the rest of the way to his apartment.

[armorsleevedsinglehit]

madara’s voice and other sundries

naoya uchida embodies madara for me. i love the way he speaks very slowly (and often softly!) and with genuine Intent, but that he also has these moments when you can hear the anger and grief and just unhinged rage in his voice, especially in his battle cries at the end of ep 366 and his screaming “you bastards killed izuna” in 368. you can just feel how powerful madara is from naoya uchida’s voice alone; you feel that he’s ancient, that he’s been through tragedy after tragedy and become hardened and bitter, that there’s this immeasurable weight behind his words. and i love that when he speaks you feel like he has all the time in the world to deliver his words (something i think that he and hashirama share, which really distinguishes them from the rest of the characters. you really get the sense that they’re from a different time).

A kind of odd thing that i debated on when i started this blog was how madara’s speaking voice would translate to written text, in a way that still felt true to his character, because there’s so much that uchida conveys with his voice that you just can’t do through text. and then there are other logistical issues as well, like, how strong of a writer is he? how is he at expressing his emotions on this blog, which is meant to be a personal space for him? i struggled with this to maybe a surprising extent, but i wanted to make sure more than anything that his character consistently gets through in the way he expresses himself. this medium, madara’s blog, is such an interesting challenge for me. madara is at most late 30s here; he’s been through a lot, but he’s not the same character that we meet in episode 322 who has died and been brought back to life multiple times. he still has that very human quality to him, which i wanted to show in the way he talks on here. you may or may have not noticed that madara doesn’t use a lot of commas, and yes, i know how grammar works; the lack of commas was a conscious choice on my part. i try to have him write mostly short, simple sentences, because he feels to me like the type of person who wants to just get to the point quickly when he’s talking about his own issues. i don’t see him as a particularly eloquent or talented writer, so it can sometimes be really hard to get across everything he feels in his heart and his mind with just his words. but it also forces me to simplify my own words and ideas, which i feel is gradually making me a stronger writer. (i have noticed myself omitting commas in my other writing, a lot of which is academic, so that’s something to watch out for lol.)

but all that aside, let’s actually talk about madara’s voice. because it’s one thing to hear naoya uchida’s voice and be like “okay, that’s really nice,” but if you’re reading a fic and madara has a piece of dialogue, what exactly does that sound like? i’d argue that finding that voice is actually super hard, especially if you just watch the sub and don’t speak japanese, because you’re not fully able to translate all the little twists and tones and inflections that uchida puts into the character. 

so you have that slow, soft voice, but it’s often got a very rough quality to it as well, both from overuse (he gets hoarse easily) and because the katon has fried his vocal chords. and at least in my headcanon he smokes (not religiously- he smoked way more during the war), so that definitely gives him a rasp, a bit of a crackling quality. but i also feel that he’s got kind of an unexpected range, partly because he’s usually speaking way down at the bottom of it (listen to naoya uchida’s regular voice; it’s much higher than madara’s!) plus quite a bit of vocal fry; he tends to purr. he’s got a voice well suited for jazz (because i adore jazz and i do whatever i want on my blog), if jazz even exists in the naruto universe. i don’t know exactly how to describe it but his voice has a sort of old-timey feel to it, the way an old radio announcer from the 1940s sounds (though possibly less excitable). the way he speaks definitely sounds like he’s from another time.

and i think he has a nice singing voice too! he doesn’t sing much, only very quietly to himself when he thinks no one else is listening, and he’s not professionally trained, but if he were to really belt it out (especially in his teenage days- before he ruined his lungs a bit) he’d have a nice, powerful, distinct voice with a bit of a growl to it. my mind always goes to oingo boingo era danny elfman, or maybe a cross between him and pete burns. (COMPLETELY unrelated side note, if you’ve ever wondered about modern au madara’s wardrobe, just look at literally any image of pete burns from the 1980s. i mean...come on.)

i also quickly want to give a quick shoutout to neil kaplan and xander mobus, who voiced adult and child madara in the english dub, because i think they both did a great job. kaplan obviously took inspiration from uchida’s performance (even though he kind of sounds like he’s got a cold the whole time) and i find xander mobus’ raspy texas drawl kind of incredibly charming. his performance (especially his little outbursts) makes me think that madara trained himself to speak in a more professional manner when he got to be clan leader, and before that, he spoke very informally- lots of “ain’t” and its equivalent. 

anyway, after all this, i am only really able to come up with descriptions and real-world approximations to what i feel like madara’s voice should sound like...but i think that’s okay, because naoya uchida provides a stunningly good interpretation, and besides that, everyone who reads the manga or watches the show will have their own interpretations as well. (i feel like i’m wrapping up a youtube video essay as i type the next sentence.) really though, let me know what you think!! do you have any madara voice headcanons that you’re dying to share? 

[machi-kun]

offerings

In the North, Antonio learns, the rules are as follows: Vikings offer gifts to the powerful Gods, and the less powerful offer gifts to the Vikings.

Antonio is now one such gift.

This is a fill for the 2020 Stony Bingo, Round 2. Square O-1: furs

Read it on AO3 | Viking AU, Arranged Marriage, Implied Sexual Content | Rated M

****

The wedding is a rambunctious thing.

There is drinking and dancing to no end. The Clan is boisterous and loud, in a way the Court was never allowed to be, back home – even in weddings. They are lively in a way the Court never is, never has been, not since Antonio could remember. Their music thumps directly into his chest, drums and flutes played with vigor and strength, and it should be disturbing, maybe even scary, but it’s… not.

He’s not scared. Of this land, of their music, or their strange traditions.

He’s also not scared, despite his initial concerns, of his husband.

The Captain, the only name Antonio knows him for, is a frankly impressive man. He is tall where Antonio already is considered somewhat small, his hair is the color of sand and his eyes are a startling blue. A rare color in the South, but far more common here, from what Antonio can see in his husband’s company. His stature is imposing, but not as much as his width, shoulders so large that the fur laid on them does nothing to disguise how broad they are, just as his hands are big, from that Antonio could see, when they first met – when the Captain guarded his weapon of choice, a shield, such an unexpected thing –, and from what he could feel, when during the ceremony, they held hands so the Clan’s priestess could wrap a rope around them, effectively tying them together in the eyes of their Gods.

Perhaps he shouldn’t stare; But he’s a long way from home, and this is home now, so the Court customs do not matter – Antonio has always been daring, and he will do as he pleases, even if it’s scandalous.

He is married to a Viking now.

Scandal is the last thing he is worried about.

Both Antonio and his husband are masterfully decorated in intricate ways, which now Antonio has come to learn are the typical appearance of a wedding in this Clan. His hair is not long enough to braid, not like his husband’s, much less such a magnificent design – so he has been decorated with amazingly delicate items, gold strings and flowers and pretty shells, a crown of sorts, to match the opulence his husband seems to carry on his person by pure nature. His clothes, kindly provided by the Clan he now must call his own, are not at all like the garments he would wear if he were marrying closer to home – as he should have been. Not at all. There is no velvet or beads, no corsets or flowers, or waistcoats and lace and all sorts of delicate things. No. The North is rough. It’s demanding and strong, like his husband, sharp and deadly, but Antonio feels no cold.

The warmth of the rich wine offered to him has settled so deep into his bones he feels like he could be protected from the blizzards and snow forever, the heat of the pyre pleasant from where they sit, and his husband—

His husband’s mere presence more than enough to make Antonio feel much warmer than he should.

The festivities do not stop when the Captain offers him his hand, and no one halts their drinking or dancing when the man beside them, the man Antonio assumes is the Captain’s right hand, yells to the crowd to announce their leave. The Clan cheers back, raising their cups and stomping loudly on the soil, rattling metal and leather, thunderous joy shaking Antonio to his core. The song becomes louder and their singing is no different from a war cry, but it inspires no dread – only the most vivid delight. Antonio did not think they would be so jubilant at the prospect of a foreigner marrying one of their most valuable fighters, but something in this union seems to please them. Is this what all their weddings look like? No wonder the people in the South thought them savages; Imagine, expressing genuine emotion and happiness in the Court? As if.

Dare he say it – this is fun. It puts a smile on his face, no matter how small, because he’s just not used to smiling wide anymore, it seems. Perhaps his new people can teach him how.

Maybe they can teach him to be loud, to be joyous, to be a fighter.

If the South will give him away, Antonio will embrace the North, if the North will have him.

And from the grip of the Captain’s hand on his as he is lead to his tent, it seems like it will.

Once inside, the Captain lays him down on his bed; Opulent, luscious furs, warm and silken, strewn on the cold floor, surrounded by the gifts and offerings presented to them as wishes of good fortune in their union. Gold and jewels, weapons and fruit, and rare items Antonio has only ever dreamed of seeing in his lifetime – He is placed among them, flanked by treasures, and at last he is where he was intended, with the Captain’s spoils, the most valuable gift his Kingdom could offer.

Perhaps he should feel slighted. At first, he did.

But where the North is cold, the furs and his husband’s skin are warm.

He has been gentle, he has been kind. They do not understand each other, not yet – they don’t speak each other’s languages, but the Captain’s voice is always low and unthreatening, and Antonio finds himself oddly transfixed when he talks. He did not scream, and he did not growl, as rumors he had heard so often in the South said; This man is no beast. Not in the sense he had been made to believe, at least.

He is strong, that is true. Strong and tall, and powerful, and uses a defensive item to attack, a contradiction that only serves to confuse and fascinate Antonio to no end. Full of contradictions, his husband. The patience and caution, too, when the Captain undresses, his cape and coverings falling from his absurdly large shoulders to join the furs beneath them with no care, no concern if they will end up soiled in any way in their wedding night. His movements are slow, as if Antonio is a particularly spooked deer, who might run at the sight of the barest threat.

A fair assumption, if unexpected.

And completely unnecessary.

His husband is big, but he is not threatening – he is… a source of protection. He is intimidating, but in an oddly transfixing way, as powerful men often are. Antonio’s fingers twist on the pelt beneath him, the thick, soft hairs pleasant and satisfying to grasp, the perfect brace as his breath escapes in a fleeting gasp at the rush of want that crashes in his body suddenly, by the sight of the Captain kneeling before him on the furs, coming closer, but he is not deterred – he removes his furs too, adding them to the pile where they lay, as eager to get undressed as his husband. Perhaps he shouldn’t. It’s desperate, unbecoming, even.

But he is curious, and he is warm, and he’s free, and he is, it seems, desired.

The Captain raises his eyes, that shine with the color of the ocean, and he growls the word Antonio has come to learn means, in his language, a name he would have never expected to receive for himself.

Beloved.

Antonio’s cheeks burn with heat, and he opens his knees and spreads his legs, sliding his feet apart and taking shameful enjoyment in the feel of the furs between his toes, the warmth in his body, and the sheer desire that blooms in his husband’s face. It’s so deeply entrancing. The Captain, stalking forward like a lion, crawls over Antonio in a graceful move, and places himself between Antonio’s thighs, a place that now belongs to him, and him alone.

The touch of his lips tastes like mead. It’s soft, and hot, and a little demanding, and Antonio knows that this, this, is his husband at his core.

His Captain.

Tony wishes he knew his name. He’ll have to learn. He wants to. He wants to learn how it’ll taste in his mouth much like the Captain is licking into his mouth to learn his taste, he wants to know how it’ll sound in his voice, with his accent, if it’ll be as endearing to his husband as his low sighs are to his own ears. Antonio wishes for more warmth too, more skin – and this wish he can be granted, and so, he pulls on his husband’s robes, his too tough leather and metals, demanding to touch what’s beneath.

His husband lets out a noise that sounds suspiciously like a laugh, and he says something Antonio cannot understand.

Antonio wants. He wants, and wants, and he did not imagine he would want it this much.

There is no time to think, only to feel. Feel, as his husband removes own his garments and brings Antonio’s hands to his chest, firm and sculpted like the most expensive marble, so tempting under the ethereal candlelight. It is customary, Antonio has heard, that the wedding night should be witnessed by at least five other people in the Clan, but they are alone, and he is grateful for it – he is shocked by how pleased he is at the idea that this body, this man now belongs to him too, and no one else can have him.

Blessed be the Gods, Antonio thinks, despite never before having praised a deity, too trapped in the questions of men to give much care to the demands of spirits, For this gift.

This offering, he remembers, as the Captain’s lips descend upon his’ once more, and he opens his mouth, inviting him in without a second thought. Freely given.

In exchange for my devotion, he moans, into his husband’s mouth, as his own clothes are pushed away, and skin presses against skin, and suddenly, that is not enough.

I accept it, as he wraps his arms around his husband’s shoulders, and his legs around his waist, and lets himself be washed away by sensation, by the craving—

Willing, he gasps, wet and panting, when he’s turned around and pressed into the softness of the furs beneath, rubbing against them in sensual, quivering contentment when his husband leans over him and pulls his hips up, towards his own—

And ready, as his eyes roll back in pleasure, as he’s breached.

To serve your temple for the rest of my days.

Antonio does not know the last part of this hymn. He did not have time to learn.

All he knows is worship tastes good on his tongue.

[robinrunsfiction]

Swing Life Away

Pairing: Gerard Way x Female Reader Rating: Teen Requested By: None Word Count: ~7,000 Author’s Note: This story is about about what can happen between two people whose lives aren’t turning out exactly how they planned and what happens when they turn to each other.  Inspired originally by the song “Hold On To Me” by Mayday Parade, there is a full playlist here of songs that inspired this story. TWs for mentions of substance abuse and depression. Post Bullets-era AU.

Gerard sighed as he pulled up in front of the convenience store. His well worn hoodie didn’t provide much relief against the New Jersey autumn air as he hurried inside. After checking the amount of cash he had in his pocket, he got a small coffee and headed to the counter. He rocked on his heels as he waited for the person being helped ahead of him to finish. Finally it was his turn.

“Anything else?” The girl behind the counter asked as she punched his coffee into the register, then she looked up. “Oh hey Gerard.”

Hearing her say his name, he looked up as well. “Oh, hey (YN), it’s been a while,” he smiled a little awkwardly.  “Umm, can I get a pack of cigarettes?”

“Yea, sure. How’ve you been? I haven’t seen any fliers for a My Chem show recently, are you guys not playing right now?”

Gerard’s eyes widened for a moment and his mouth went dry. He didn’t think he would be having this conversation today, but (YN) had been coming out to My Chem shows since the beginning and he knew she was a genuinely nice person who deserved to hear the truth. “Umm, I broke it up.”

(YN)’s jaw dropped and she started to blush. “Shit, I’m sorry, I hadn't heard, otherwise I wouldn’t have brought it up,” she replied, nervously tucking at her hair.

“It’s ok,” he shrugged, trying not to let on that he was still disappointed about the whole situation. “Ray and Frank already found other bands to play with and I got a job at the comic book store so I’m back to something else I enjoy, so it’s ok really.”

“What about Mikey?”

Gerard rubbed at the back of his neck. “That’s why I broke it up. He, umm, he's got some problems. He’s in rehab,” Gerard mumbled the last part, barely audible to (YN).

“Fuck,” she breathed, looking down at the counter in front of her.

“Yea, our parents blamed me for the whole thing and kicked me out. I’ve been couch surfing for a while, or just staying in my car,” Gerard nodded toward his beat up old car parked out front. “Sorry, I just kinda dumped that all on you.”

“No, I asked, and I understand. Shit, I’m really sorry about all that,” (YN) said as she took Gerard’s money for his purchase. “Hey, please don’t be afraid to say no because this is a crazy idea I just had, but my roommate moved in with her boyfriend because she got knocked up, and I’ve been looking for someone to split the rent with. If you’re looking for a place,” (YN) trailed off with a shrug.

“Really?” Gerard asked, eyebrows raised. He was surprised at the offer. None of his friends that he had been crashing with had offered to let him stay more than a couple days at a time.

“Yea, I mean, why not?” She shrugged. “Wanna come over and check it out tonight?”

“Sure, that sounds good, what time?”

“I get off at 6, so like 6:30?”

“Yea, I can do that,” he smiled and (YN) felt like a massive weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

“Cool, here’s the address and my phone number for whatever,” she said as she scrawled the information on the back of his receipt.

“I’ll see you tonight,” he said with a wave after pocketing the cigarettes. For once in a long time, Gerard finally had some hope that things were about to turn around.

~

When (YN)’s shift was over at 6, she rushed home to quickly straighten up before Gerard arrived. She desperately needed a roommate or she’d have to break her lease and be in the same situation Gerard currently found himself in, but she didn’t want to let any stranger move in. At least she knew Gerard a bit; he was always nice and fun to be around when they hung out after shows, plus he had a regular job, which was good enough for her. 

Shortly after 6:30 the doorbell rang and she rushed to answer it. “Hey Gerard, come on in.”

“Thanks,” he smiled, almost a little nervously. 

(YN) gave him the tour through the small house, showing him the open bedroom across the hall from her own, the kitchen, and bathroom. “As you can see, I don’t really have a lot of furniture,” she said when they got back to the empty living room. “My roommate had all that unfortunately, so I just kinda hang out in my room. I don’t have any weird rules or anything, and the neighborhood is safe, sooo yea. Rent would be $600 a month each plus utilities, if you’re interested after all that.”

Gerard looked around again. “Yea, I mean this would be great.”

(YN) let out a sigh of relief she didn’t realize she was holding. “Oh that’s awesome, thank you. I really didn’t wanna lose this place.”

“Oh yea, I understand,” he smiled his lopsided smile. “How soon can I move in?”

“Whenever you want. My old roommate had paid through the end of this month, so we’re ok there. I’ll let the landlord know and do the paperwork stuff.”

“Do you mind if I stay tonight? ‘Cause I don’t have,” he trailed off.

(YN) felt absolutely gutted when she realized he meant he'd be spending the night in his car, as temperatures dropped near freezing. “Oh, shit, yea, I can help carry stuff in if you want,” (YN) said quickly, grabbing her coat from the closet and following him out to his car.

Gerard didn’t have much with him, a few changes of clothes, a blanket, pillow, and a backpack full of cds and comics. He insisted that he was fine to sleep on the floor, but (YN) still gave him an extra pillow and a couple of blankets to make himself a bit more comfortable.

"Thanks again (YN) for letting me move in here and everything," Gerard said as (YN) turned to go. "I can't begin to tell you how much I appreciate it."

"I think it's gonna work out well for both of us," she smiled as she closed the door behind her.

~

Gerard retrieved the rest of his belongings that weekend and got everything moved into his room. (YN) tried to give him space while he got settled, but eventually they started talking a bit more, getting to know each other as they got used to being around each other.

A few weeks later, (YN) was sitting on the counter next to the microwave when Gerard arrived home from work, the smell of fresh popcorn greeting him. “Hey, what are you doing tonight?” (YN) asked as Gerard walked into the kitchen.

“Umm, nothing, why?” Gerard asked.

“I was getting ready to watch a movie, if you wanna hang out.”

“Yea, sure,” he nodded. “What were you thinking?”

“I dunno, any of the classics that are easy to watch, like Star Wars or Back to the Future,” she shrugged.

Gerard’s eyes lit up. “I was thinking about Empire Strikes Back earlier today.”

“Well let’s watch that one then,” she nodded, hopping off the counter as the microwave beeped.

Gerard went back to his room and dropped his backpack on the bed. He opened it up and examined the bottle of alcohol he had purchased after work. He wasn’t sure why he did it, he had told Mikey that he’d get sober too, but he had been feeling so depressed lately, he thought it might help to take the edge off.

Instead, he stashed it under his desk and changed out of his work clothes and into some pajama pants and a comfortable t-shirt so he could relax. When he walked into (YN)’s room, he was reminded of the lack of places to sit other than with her on her bed. “I’ll go get my desk chair,” he said, turning to leave.

“Oh grow up, you can sit on my bed with me,” she laughed, patting the spot next to her.

“I didn’t wanna assume,” he said rolling his eyes as he sat down, the popcorn bowl between them. Gerard finally had a chance to really look around her room, and the first thing he noticed next to the modest tv was a bookshelf filled with movies. "Woah, I never noticed your movie collection before, how'd you get so many?"

"My cousin worked for Blockbuster up until a couple years ago. She got all those at a discount and when she moved to Chicago she decided she didn't want them anymore and gave them to me."

"That's cool," Gerard replied, continuing to look around. Against the amethyst walls white Christmas lights were hung, bathing the room in a warm glow. Taped to her wall above her bed were dozens of photos, that appeared to be mainly of friends, parties, concerts, and pink roses. "You have a lot of friends."

"I don't talk to most of them any more," she said, glancing up. "They all moved on with their lives and I stayed here."

"There's nothing wrong with that," Gerard replied. He had been one of those people, he had moved on with his life, until it got out of control and now he was here as well.

(YN) shrugged. “Sometimes I wonder if maybe I should try to move on too,” she said with a nod to the photos. “Stop living in the past or whatever. Anyway, what’s it like working at the comic book store?”

Gerard shrugged. “It’s pretty good. On slow days I can just read comics for my whole shift, and the people that come in are pretty cool to talk to.”

“Do you miss music?”

Gerard looked thoughtful for a moment. “Some days. But as long as I’m doing something I enjoy, I’m happy.”

(YN) glanced over at him and smiled. “That’s good.”

Later that night (YN) had gotten up to go to the bathroom when she noticed a sliver of light coming from Gerard's doorway. When she peeked in, she saw him at his desk, working intently.

“What are you working on?” Gerard heard (YN) ask from the doorway.

“Oh umm, just this comic idea I’ve been working on,” he replied. When he looked back at her, he spotted his clock, reading that it was nearly 4 AM. “It’s so late, did I wake you up?”

“No, I just got up to go to the bathroom and I saw your light on,” she said padding quietly into the room. “Can I see?”

“Sure,” he said, turning the paper toward her.

“That’s really really good. What’s it about?”

“They’re like an adopted family of superheroes. They all have different powers and their father is trying to train them to save the world,” he said looking up at her. To his surprise, she seemed to be genuinely interested.

“You’re really talented."

"It's not that great," he shrugged.

“Pfft, are you kidding? That girl is so pretty, and there aren’t even words yet and I can tell this guy is super mad at this other aloof guy.”

Gerard looked back up at her in awe. “I’ve been struggling all night because I didn’t think it conveyed that clearly enough.”

“Nah, it’s great, you’re doing great,” she replied. “Are you just doing it for fun, or are you gonna try to get it printed?”

“I’d love to get a comic printed, but I don’t know if I ever will.”

“Like I said, you’re really talented, I bet you could make it happen. I’ll even buy a copy and tell people that you were my roommate when you were working on it.”

Gerard laughed lightly. “I’ll dedicate it to you.”

“I can’t wait. G’night Gerard,” (YN) said before retreating back to her room.

~

It was a bitterly cold winter day when (YN) returned home from work to find another car in front of the house. When she came in, she heard another voice she thought she recognized.

“Hey (YN),” Gerard called as she walked into her room.

“Yea?” She called back, dropping her things.

“Mikey’s here.”

“Oh! Hey Mikey, how’s everything going?” (YN) asked, as she walked into Gerard’s room and found his brother sitting on the bed. 

“Good,” he nodded.

She nodded as well. “I'll get out of your hair, sorry to interrupt,” (YN) waved as she ducked back into her room. Gerard had been talking about how well Mikey had been doing since finishing his program, but as far as she was aware, this was the first they had seen each other since he had completed it.

A while later she was in the kitchen getting dinner when Gerard walked Mikey to the door,  exchanging a hug before he left. After the door was closed, Gerard let out a sigh.

“Mikey looked like he’s doing good,” (YN) said as Gerard trudged into the kitchen.

“Yea,” he replied, but the tone of his voice wasn’t happy. “But he doesn’t think he can stay clean here so he’s moving.”

“Really? Where?”

“California. We got some family out there that will keep him straightened out, and keep him away from the people who got him messed up in the first place, like me.”

"Did he say you specifically?"

"No, but-"

“Gerard,” (YN) interrupted sternly. “Just because you started the band doesn’t mean you’re to blame for what he chose to do.”

“I shoulda been looking out for him more. I was such a drunk shtihead I didn’t even know what was happening,” he said running his hands through his hair.

(YN) stepped forward grabbing his arms and pulling them down. “Gerard! I have spent months now listening to you talk about Mikey. You guys both learned some lessons the hard way, but he wouldn’t have kept calling you while he was in rehab and come to visit today if he blamed you. He could have cut you off, moved to California without a word, but he didn’t. That means something, right?”

Gerard looked like he was on the verge of tears but he nodded.

“You guys are both gonna be alright,” she said, letting go of his arms, and wrapping him in a hug.“Sorry, “ just felt like,” she said trailing off with a shake of her head when she pulled back.

“It’s fine, I needed that,” he smiled. “All of it, thank you.”

~

It didn’t seem like enough time had passed when in the late spring (YN) checked the mail and found a letter from their landlord with the paperwork to renew their lease. She sighed nervously as she made her way to Gerard’s room. Now it wasn't just that she didn’t want to have to find a new place to live, it was the fact that she liked living with Gerard. She liked hanging out with him and she had come to care for him as a real friend. She also recently realized that she had at some point developed more feelings for him, but she pushed those aside.

“Hey Gee?” She said knocking on his door.

“Yea?” She heard him call from the other side before she opened the door.

“We got the lease renewal paperwork today. Did you wanna extend the lease for a full year?”

“Yea, sure. I like it here,” Gerard replied with a smile.

(YN) let out a sigh of relief. “Good, I’m really glad to hear that. I’ll leave this with you, just bring it back when you get it signed at all the flagged spots.”

“Ok,” Gerard nodded as he flipped through the packet.

A while later (YN) looked up from the magazine she was reading when Gerard knocked on her door. “I got the lease thing signed,” he said, walking in and handing her the paperwork.

“Cool, I’ll drop this off tomorrow,” she nodded. “I’m really glad this has worked out.”

“Me too,” Gerard said. “Umm, I never mentioned it before, but I had been living in my car for a couple weeks when you offered me this place.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize it was that bad,” (YN) murmured.

“I was in a really low place, like I was almost at my breaking point ya know, but umm, when I say this turned everything around for me, I mean it. I was able to pick up more shifts at work and I could afford to go back to my therapist and get on my meds again. So thanks for saving my life,” he said with a nod before turning to leave.

“Gee wait,” she said getting up.

“Yea?”

“I… I don’t know what to say except I’m really glad that you’re here and you matter a lot to me, and,” she shrugged as her words failed her. She just wanted Gerard to know how important he was, not just as someone to share rent with, but as well as all the complicated feelings she kept bottled up inside.

Gerard stepped back across the room and wrapped his arms around her. They stood silently hugging for a while before he pulled back. “Hang on.” (YN) nodded as he hurried over to his room and then came back with a bottle of liquor. “Here, you can have it, or get rid of it, it doesn’t matter to me. I bought it months ago because… it doesn’t matter, but that night you invited me to hang out and that meant a lot. I started working on my comic again that night too.”

“I remember that,” she smiled, as she took the bottle from him. “You’re gonna do big things Gee. I’m glad I can cheer you on.”

~

“Are you sure you don’t wanna come along?” (YN) asked from the doorway of his room. She was heading out to a party with her friend, but to Gerard, she already seemed a little unsteady on her feet. 

“No thanks, I gotta work in the morning,” he replied. Just then, a car horn went off outside the house.

“That’s Eli. I’ll try to be quiet coming in,” (YN) waved before hurrying out to her waiting friend.

Gerard got so wrapped up in the page of his comic he was working on he completely lost track of time until his phone went off. "Hello?" Gerard answered his phone.

"Heeey, is this Gerard? (YN)'s roommate?" He heard a female voice slur from the other end.

"Yea, why?" He asked, panic striking through him. He glanced at his clock, it wasn't that late, why was someone calling him about (YN).

"Can you come get (YN)? She's like super drunk and I'm gonna go back to this guy's place but I don't wanna leave her here alone."

"Wait, is this Eli?"

"Yea, can you hurry up before she barfs or something, I can't deal with that."

"Yea, yea, text me the address, I'm on my way," Gerard replied, already slipping on his sneakers.

A while later Gerard was pulling up in front of the house where the party was happening. As he got out of his car, he saw (YN) sitting on the front lawn with a girl he'd never met before, he presumed it was Eli.

"Hey (YN), are you ok?" He asked as he approached. He could tell (YN) had been crying, despite how dark it was.

"Yea," she sniffled and got up unsteadily.

"I'll call you tomorrow, ok sweetie?" Eli said, already heading toward a guy who had been waiting in the distance.

(YN) waved her off as Gerard helped her to the car. Other than the radio playing an old Radiohead song, there was nothing but silence in the car.

"I've never seen you this drunk," Gerard suddenly blurted out. "Are you ok?"

(YN) sniffled again. "I haven't really eaten in a few days and then Eli wanted to do shots when we got to the party and now I'm stupid and wasted," she whined.

Gerard pulled up to a red light and looked over at (YN). She had her head against the window and was staring blankly ahead. "Why haven't you been eating much? Do you need money for groceries? I can kick in more."

"Because I wanna be skinnier so you'll think I'm pretty like the girl you drew in your comic" she said so softly it was almost a whisper.

Gerard's heart broke at her words. "(YN), I do think you're beautiful. You don't have to change for me at all," he said looking back at her just before the light turned green. (YN) turned her head to look out the window so he couldn't see her reaction.

A few blocks later pulled up in front of a convenience store. "What's your favorite gatorade?" Gerard asked.

"Red," (YN) mumbled.

"Ok, wait here a sec," he said as he got out.

Gerard hurried inside, grabbing a big bottle of the drink, as well as a couple burritos.

"Here you go," Gerard said as he handed her the bag. "At least try to eat one to settle your stomach."

"Thanks," she replied, staring into the bag. She was too embarrassed to look up at Gerard at that moment. She felt like an idiot for getting so drunk that he had to take care of her. If she ever had a shot with Gerard, she was sure she had blown it now. 

The rest of the drive was just as silent as it had started until they arrived back in the house. Gerard put his arm around (YN) and helped her inside. She was already feeling less dizzy as she sat down on the edge of her bed and pulled off her shoes. Gerard took the bottle of gatorade and set it on her bedside table, plugged her phone into the charger, and brought in the garbage can in case she had to be sick. 

"You'll probably feel terrible tomorrow," he said with a slightly sad smile as she pulled the blankets over herself, not even bothering to change out of her clothes.

"I deserve it," she mumbled as she turned her face into her soft, cool pillow.

Before she could fully register what was happening, she felt Gerard kiss her head. "No you don't," he said before turning out the light and shutting the door behind him.

(YN)'s thoughts were spinning like the world had been earlier until she eventually passed out.

~

The next day (YN)’s phone was vibrating on her bedside table, but the sound felt like a jackhammer vibrating through her skull. Groaning, she opened her eyes to find the offending device.

Hey girl! Call me when u get up so i know ur alive the text from Eli read.

(YN) looked at her clock, it was almost 1 in the afternoon. She dragged herself out of bed, discarding the clothes she had worn the night before, and into the shower, the cold water jolting her awake. Climbing back into bed, she picked up her phone to call her friend.

“You survived,” Eli cheered when she answered the call.

“Oh my god, please shut up,” (YN) winced.

“Oh, you’re really feeling it huh?”

“Yea, I think I got run over at some point last night.”

“No, I didn’t let you run across any roads this time. Maybe Gerard did after he picked you up. How'd that go?”

“I don’t remember,” (YN) groaned. “I remember he bought me food and gatorade,” she said, picking up the bottle of the now room temperature drink.

Eli hummed. “Well he seems like a good guy, he came right to get you no questions asked when I called.”

“Yea,” (YN) agreed, pulling her knees up to her chest. “I just feel so dumb for getting so wasted.”

“It happens. And at least he’s seen you at your worst now. Has he said anything?”

“He’s at work I think.”

“Ah, well at least you got some more time to recover before you have to face him.”

“Why do you have to say it that way?” (YN) groaned as Eli laughed.

The friends talked for a while longer until (YN) heard the front door open.

“Shit, he’s back,” (YN) whispered, her embarrassment flooding back.

“Ok talk to you later, and don’t worry about it!” Eli said brightly before hanging up.

(YN) glanced up and saw Gerard hovering awkwardly by her door. “Hey, how you feeling?” 

“Been better,” (YN) replied, tucking a piece of her half wet hair behind her ear awkwardly. “Umm, I don’t really remember a lot from last night, but thanks for coming to get me and everything.”

Gerard nodded. “It’s no problem.”

“I feel really stupid. I won’t be doing that again anytime soon, I promise,” (YN) laughed dryly.

Gerard laughed a little as well. He didn’t know if he should bring up anything that was said between them the night before since she had said she couldn’t remember much, but he couldn’t help but wonder what she did remember.

~

After a few days, (YN)’s embarrassment at her drunken night finally started to diminish and she and Gerard’s interactions went back to normal. A while later, (YN) was hanging out in Gerard’s room talking about a show they had been to the weekend before when her phone rang. 

"Hello? Oh hi," (YN) answered. "What?! Is he ok?" She jumped up and left the room, but Gerard could still hear her end of the conversation, causing him to grow more concerned. "No I didn't see anything, there wasn't anyone… Ok... Yea… Ok let me know."

The color was drained from her face when she walked back into the room.

"What's wrong?" Gerard asked, his brows knitted together.

"Right after my shift ended the store got robbed. My coworker John is in the hospital and they took all the cash. The store is gonna be closed for a couple days I guess."

"Fuck," Gerard replied, totally stunned.

"I think I'm gonna go to bed," she said blankly before turning back toward her room and Gerard heard the door close behind her.

A while later Gerard got up to go to the kitchen to get another cup of coffee, but when he stepped into the hall, he stopped in his tracks. It sounded like crying coming from (YN)’s room.

"(YN), are you ok?" He asked as he knocked on her door, but she didn't answer. Cautiously he opened the door and found (YN) was sitting on her bed, knees pulled up to her chest, sobbing. 

"Shit," Gerard whispered as he rushed over and pulled her against him, letting her cry on his shoulder.

"It coulda been me. I could be in the hospital or dead right now and no one would even notice or care! Just another loser with no direction in life dead. I've wasted everything, I've ruined my whole life!"

"You haven't," Gerard said, rubbing her back. "I'd care very much if anything happened to you. And you have plenty of time. I had a job at a tv network and gave it up to form the band, and now I'm trying to get into comics."

"But I'm not talented like you! I have no skills, I never went to college because I didn't know what I wanted to do and I still don't. I just don't want to be stuck here the rest of my life waiting to get held up at gunpoint," she sobbed. "I'm just too stupid to get out of my own way long enough to figure anything out."

“No you aren't stupid, sometimes it just takes more time to get it figured out."

Eventually (YN)’s sobs started to quiet and she pulled back. “Thanks Gee. You really didn’t need to do this.”

“Yea I did. I couldn’t just let you be alone when you feel like this.”

(YN) sighed. “Every time I close my eyes I just picture it happening to me. I’m so tired, but I don’t think I’m gonna be able to sleep tonight.”

“Hang on,” Gerard said, getting up. (YN) saw the light from his room shut off, and he came back. “Ok, come here, I’ll keep you safe,” he said as he settled in next to her.

(YN) felt like her heart was going to burst through her chest as she slid down next to him. She laid her head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.

~

Something shifted in Gerard and (YN)’s relationship that night, although nothing was spoken of it. They started trading off whose bed they slept in, crawling into bed together just to be close to the other. When they watched a movie together, she rested her head against his shoulder. When (YN) was in the kitchen making coffee, Gerard would come in and wrap his arms around her and hold her close while she worked. The day after (YN) had a really bad shift at work, she came home and found a pink rose that looked like it had been trimmed from someone’s garden sitting on her bed.

It was a warm early fall evening when Gerard and (YN) showed up at a party held by a friend of a friend. (YN) had gone off to talk to Eli, and Gerard found himself watching her from across the yard. He wished he was by her side, his arm wrapped around her waist, holding her close, that’s where he felt happiest.

"Why are you looking at your roommate like that?" Frank asked, appearing at Gerard's side.

“Jesus,” Gerard muttered under his breath, startled. “What are you talking about?”

“Like you wanna get out here and get on top-”

“Stop, no, it’s not like that,” Gerard shook his head.

“Oh, so you don’t care if I go ask her out then?”

“What? You can’t!” Gerard blurted out. “I mean, what about Jamia?”

Frank grinned and pointed a finger in Gerard's face. “Exactly! So what are you gonna do about it?”

“Everything is fine, we’re fine,” Gerard grumbled.

As the sun began to set more people showed up, filling up the backyard. Without warning there was a shout as two guys started pushing each other, and then punches began to fly. 

(YN) found herself too near the fight and tried to get away from the fray, but more people were rushing to watch or take part in it and she couldn’t get past. Suddenly she felt someone grab her hand, interlacing their fingers with hers. She was about to pull away when she looked up and realized it was Gerard.

“Come on,” he said, pulling her out of the crowd.

“Thanks for not leaving me behind,” (YN) said once they were a safe distance from the fracus. 

“I couldn’t ever leave you behind,” Gerard smiled back at her. 

At that moment she became conscious of how their hands were still intertwined and how closely they were standing. (YN) didn’t want to move and lose the moment, but police sirens started cutting through the shouts of the brawl. “Oh shit," (YN) started laughing. “Let’s get out of here!”

“Here we go again,” Gerard smirked as they took off running, hand in hand, through the backyards until they couldn’t hear any of the commotion any longer. When they finally came out on a side street, they were both out of breath, but laughing. The smell of rain hung in the air.

“I have no idea where we are now,” (YN) laughed.

“Me neither, but,” Gerard trailed off with a shrug as they started walking aimlessly down the street.

(YN) glanced down, not totally understanding why Gerard was still holding her hand, but she still wasn’t planning on letting go. Then she noticed Gerard glancing down as well.

“(YN),” he started.

“Sorry,” she said, starting to pull her hand away, but Gerard held tighter.

“No, it’s not that,” he said, stopping under the street light. A soft rain began to fall around them. "It's that I don't wanna change things between us, but I really want to," he hesitated then took a step closer to (YN). He raised his free hand and gently caressed her cheek before leaning in and pressing his lips against hers.

(YN)'s mind was spinning. She couldn't believe that this was really happening, that Gerard, her roommate, her friend, was now kissing her in the middle of a desolate street. She kissed him back, not knowing if this would happen again, and she wanted to make the most of this chance.

Gerard's hand moved from her cheek to run through her hair, now soaked from the steady rain. He dropped her hand that he was still holding, but only so he could wrap his arm around her and pull her closer against him as he deepened the kiss and she draped her arms over his shoulders.

When they finally pulled apart, the rain had them both soaked and they were laughing together again. “We should try to find our way home,” Gerard said glancing around.

“Let’s go this way,” (YN) suggested with a nod down the street.

Gerard nodded with a smile and wrapped his arm around her shoulder as they headed back to find the car.

~

The next morning (YN) woke up in her bed with Gerard holding her tight. She had hoped to spend all morning being lazy with him, but what had woken her up was her phone ringing on her bedside table.

“Hello?” She whispered.

“Hey (YN), I know you don’t work until this afternoon, but we got a call out, can you come in this morning and work a double?” (YN)’s manager asked.

(YN) let her face fall against her pillow and groaned softly. “Yea I guess so.”

“Great, see you as soon as you can get here.”

When (YN) glanced over at Gerard, he was just waking up. “What’s wrong?”

“I wanted to spend the morning with you here, but I got called in for a double shift,” (YN) pouted.

“Damn,” Gerard frowned. “But I’ll be here when you get back.”

“I know,” she sighed before leaning in and kissing him softly. She climbed out of bed and got ready for work. The day seemed to drag by because all she wanted was to go home to Gerard.

“I’m so glad that day is done!” (YN) announced when she burst through the door. She waited for Gerard to reply but didn’t hear anything. “Gee? Are you here?”

“Yea,” he replied forlornly, coming out of his room.

“What’s wrong?” She asked.

“I’m gonna go out to visit Mikey,” Gerard said.

“Oh cool!” (YN) smiled up at him and he felt like his heart was breaking.

“And when I’m out on the west coast, I’ve got a meeting with Dark Horse Comics about my project.”

“That’s awesome!” (YN) grinned. But when she didn’t see the same level of excitement in Gerard’s face, her own excitement faltered. “Isn’t it?”

“Yea, I guess. I’m just nervous about it. There are a few things they wanna discuss about developing it and stuff. But I might have to move out to the west coast if this all works out.”

“Oh,” (YN) said, surprised. She tried to keep her disappointment hidden. “That’s an incredible opportunity though.”

“I know, but we’ve only just-”

“Gerard, don't you think for even one second about not going because of me,” (YN) interrupted him. “I have wasted my entire life being so afraid that I’ll make the wrong choice, that I let every decent opportunity pass me by. I care about you too much to let you do the same.”

Gerard didn’t know how to respond, other than to take a step forward and wrap (YN) into a tight hug. "Thanks," he mumbled against her neck. 

They stood like that for a while, neither willing to let go. “Come on, let’s order something for dinner to celebrate,” she suggested once they pulled back.

~

The following week, Mikey picked Gerard up from the airport. They put together a list of places Mikey loved to check out the next day.

After stopping at the coffee shop down the street, the comic book store that always had what Mikey was looking for, and the record shop with the friendly owner they went to the beach to kill time before dinner. 

"You ok? Are you nervous about the meetings or something?" Mikey asked. He had noticed Gerard seemed distracted all day, but Gerard just shook his head. "Then what's wrong?" Mikey asked.

"I couldn't sleep last night," Gerard said with a glance at his brother.

"Is the bed uncomfortable?"

“No, it's not that," he paused. "It's that I can’t sleep without her,” Gerard said, looking down at his hands.

"(YN)?"

"Yea."

“How long have you been together?” Mikey asked.

“We haven’t officially, but it’s, I mean...” Gerard stammered, searching for the words to define something that had only just begun and had no definition.

“But you love her?” Mikey filled in the gaps, knowing Gerard better than Gerard knew himself.

Gerard listened to the waves crashing on the shore. He didn't even realize when he had fallen in love with (YN), because it wasn't like a lightning bolt from the sky. It grew out of lazy days talking for hours, nights sleeping in the other's bed just because they wanted to be that close to each other, the way her hair fell in her face, her laugh, her lips, her selflessness, the way she was always pushing him to do more and be better. And now there he was, missing her like crazy, ready to throw away his dream if she asked him to. But she hadn't, and she wouldn’t. She encouraged him to go across the country and chase it down, even if it meant leaving her behind.

“Yea,” he said with a soft smile and Mikey nodded.

Silence hung between the brothers for a while as the sun began to set. “It’s almost time to meet up with Kristin for dinner,” Mikey announced as he got up.

Gerard nodded and followed him back to the car. As they drove away from the beach, Gerard thought about how much he wanted to bring (YN) here. He knew she’d love it. It felt like there were so many possibilities, fresh starts for everyone. He just needed to get them out of New Jersey.

~

(YN) paced outside the arrivals gate, checking the screen with the times over and over. Gerard’s flight was on time, he should be arriving shortly. She had spent most of the day excited that he was coming back today, but now that she was at the airport waiting for him, she felt incredibly nervous.

Gerard hadn’t called since he let her know he had arrived safely. She had insisted that he spend his time with Mikey and getting ready for the meetings and not to worry about her, but that didn’t stop her from thinking about him all the time. The first night she tried to sleep in her own bed, but ended up crawling into his because his pillows smelled like him and it made her heart ache a little less. And it’s where she had spent the rest of the week.

That morning as she sat in his bed, knees pulled up to her chest as she sipped her coffee in the cool morning air, she looked around his space. They’d been living together almost a year now, and the room had become so uniquely his. The comics that were stacked up next to his bed, the drawings that littered his desk, the records in the crate he painted himself. All things that went into what added up to Gerard. She smiled softly as a realization dawned on her as she shivered.

“I love him,” (YN) admitted to herself softly. “I really, truly, love him.”

Now at the airport she glanced up at the screen and saw his flight had arrived. Her heart started hammering in her chest as she started to look around, not knowing how soon he’d appear. What felt like an eternity later, she finally spotted a mop of black hair.

“Gee!” She called as she rushed over to him. Gerard dropped his bag so he could wrap his arms around her in a big hug. He pulled her in for a kiss in the middle of the crowd of travelers.

“I missed you,” he murmured when they pulled back.

“Me too,” she smiled.

"Let's get out of here," he smiled as he took her hand and they went to find her car.

"So how was the trip? How was Mikey? And the meetings, tell me everything!" (YN) gushed as they finally arrived at her car.

"Mikey's doing really good. He has this girlfriend, Kristin, she's super sweet, you'll really like her," he said as he threw his bag in the trunk.

"Oh yea, maybe I’ll meet her one day," (YN) smiled.

“(YN), I wanted to wait until we were someplace nicer than the airport parking ramp, but I can't wait any longer. I got the job at Dark Horse so I’m gonna have to move out west,” he paused, reaching out and taking her hands. “But I can’t leave without you because I love you so much (YN). It’d be a new start for both of us, together. Please?”

It took (YN) a moment to fully process what Gerard said. "Yes!" She finally replied in awe.

Gerard grabbed her face between his hands and pulled her lips to his as tears spilled from behind her closed eyes. He held her close as he kissed her with everything he had. When they pulled back, he rested his forehead against hers. 

“I love you too Gerard,” she murmured. “And thank you for not leaving me behind.”

“I couldn’t ever leave you behind.”

[that-was-anticlimactic]

fight the dragons- i am looking 👀

hehe okay so fight the dragon is a jet and the freedom fighters story based on the song fight the dragons from the musical “big fish” so i will begin this by showering you with some of the lyrics that inspired this au:

“I've always been a man who said that staying still is playing dead The kind who's looking forward to the challenges ahead”

“Because even though I'm making deals and bringin' people joy I'm usually only thinking of my boy”

“So when I'm old and tired, you'll do the job required You'll be there telling stories to your son”

“Then we fight the dragons and then storm the castles And I do the best that I can But everybody knows that's how the story goes To turn each boy into a bigger man So I'll fight the dragons 'til you can”

okay so now that that’s out of the way, when it says “my boy / your son” in this context, it is Jet referring to the younger freedom fighters

anyways, it’s a story exploring the relationship between Jet and his kiddos: how he met them, how they formed their own family...

the line that really screamed JET to me and inspire this is that last line “so i’ll fight the dragons til you can” because wow isn’t that what Jet’s doing??? fighting the fire nation for his kiddos?

like... Jet is just trying his best to provide for these kids younger than him while keeping the group safe and not being able to fully process his trauma and i just... wow i love Jet y’all.

yeah, i don’t know if this has any substance, but this oneshot would be how Jet meets the group and an exploration of the genuine brotherly love he has for them and just all of the things he would give up for them and then maybe it would be a 5+1 type of thing because as much as Jet loves them, they love him too and AHHHHH

Terra thank you for indulging me and letting me ramble about these kiddos i feel so strongly about this-- literally have listened to the entire “big fish” album all the way through at least once a day for the past week and every time this song comes on, i think of Jet it’s so powerful and so genuinely Jet and good and provides so much potential to explore these unexplored relationships... UGH (and as much as i would love to make it jetru, this is a gen / found family fic above all else so prolly no jetru but AHHHHH)

Terra did not ask for all of the extra long responses yet here we are again hibuyvhgjkjgv

no but seriously thank you for making me think of this ugh i love them

[sapphicdalliances]

Dear Chocolatier,

thank you so much for being here!! my sincere apologies for the lateness and messiness of this letter! sorry about my incredibly inconsistent capitalisation! it has been updated on the 8th of january, and may receive more updates this week.

I’m a simple bitch with simple tastes; here is a general summary of my preferences, and fandom-specific notes and prompts can be found further down!

I very much enjoy:

Fics that are short, but imply a longer, deeper verse; since this exchange is for short fics, but some of my prompts seem expansive, I just want to give you carte blanche permission to dip into an AU, splash around in it, and simply not provide additional details.

Comedic tones, slice-of-life, lighthearted fun, any amount of improbable romcom tropes

Am also on board with misunderstandings and drama as long as there is a happy ending!

I’m deeply okay with AUs, and most likely would be down for any modern, romcom, fantasy/fairytale, gender swap, or remix/crossover AUs you feel inspired to explore! My favourite settings include mundane/urban fantasy (witches! werewolves!), anachronism-stew-with-magic western fantasy jumbles, and disney’s Tangled.

Writing tropes I love:

Proposal fic

Wedding fic where the couple getting married is not the main couple

Outsider/third character POV of the main couple

Exes who are still in love/getting back together

Friends-with-benefits-with-feelings/did a bad job keeping it casual

Shipfic where two or more couples are contrasted

Oblique declarations of love/saying i love you without saying i love you

Provision and caretaking (acts of service!)

Aggressive matchmaking/wingmanning by an enthused friend

Hanahaki, or any other improbably dramatic instances of Cannot Spit It Out

Arranged marriage/fake marriage/fake dating

Epistolary fic

Regrettably I also love a/b/o, especially the kind that emphasises on scent safety and contains little to no actual sex

Art tropes I love, if you offered art:

Art where the characters simply look fond.

Fashion remixes – street fashion, cultural/traditional clothes, festival clothes, renfaire-esque clothes, beach photoshoot, get wild with it

Putting animal characteristics on one or both of them

Botanical motifs + celestial motifs

When plants grow directly out of people

The thing where character A is focused on something they’re doing or seeing, and the character B is focused only, wholly, desperately on A. please… the Gaze

Depictions of intimacy where faces are partially or fully hidden, but the body language is gentle

Characters SLEEPING next to each other, or comfortably doing separate activities in each other’s presence

If you wish to get frisky with your fills:

Yes!

Go for it!

I don’t have strong top/bottom preferences (and usually enjoy it when they switch or are otherwise generally equitable) so whatever you’re in the mood for is fine!

Kink tropes I very much enjoy include oral, restraints, praise kink, when proud characters cry during sex because they love their partners so much, and xeno tropes.

I love non-horny sex scenes; comedic, silly, charged, fraught, or simply affectionate exchanges that happen to include sex are my favourite. Feelings are the real kissing disease.

But like, if you wanna get horny about it.

Chase your bliss.

They simply must be in love.

I’m not as into:

Kidfic

First person narration

Soulmate AUs specifically

Kink wise, my only major squicks are incest, teacher/student, and public sex/getting caught, but i’m also not super keen on daddy kink, toilet stuff, or anything with blades or needles.

In general, please avoid:

Character death or serious/permanent injury

Animal abuse or death

Infidelity

Hopeless or downer endings

Fandom specific info:

Haikyuu!!

changed my life, cured my depression, what can be said about it? truly one of the most important series to me of all time. all musings on craft and creativity aside, let’s focus on the TRUE LOVE!!

i’m all caught up with the manga and supplementary materials!

suggested prompts: - sakuatsu, being mean to each other on purpose vs. being soft to each other by accident - kagehina or iwaoi dealing with LDR - kyouhaba are forced to cooperate on an innocuous, preferably wholesome task, such as gardening, or finding the owner of a lost dog, and it goes approximately As One Would Expect - bokukuroo + overheard phone conversation: and you've slept together how many times now? hmm. yeah, that's not technically a bromance (not in a no-homo way, just in a we-are-both-so-stupid-and-like-each-other-so-much-way) - actually that overheard phone conversation would work for any of these ships.

suggested prompts, art-specific: - festival clothes!! - put some wings on some of them. now it's bird romance, which is for birds - (i lied, this isn't art-specific at all, wingfic is always welcome in any of its forms) - just pick up your whole boyfriend and carry him like that. maybe even kiss him.

Or please do remix it with any of my general tropes listed above!

Oofuri

suggested prompts: - Hanai and Tajima really. struggle to get together. for like a bunch of years probably? Tajima copes with it by patiently processing his emotions in a healthy way and enjoying some casual dating. Hanai copes with it, as he does all things, by not coping - The ways Abe and Mihashi learn to take care of each other… Mihashi cooking 4 Abe… T_T

Promare

i simply think the twink and the himbo are in love.

Ace Attorney

favourite klapollo dynamic goes like this:

klavier: *genuinely and sincerely in love with apollo, in a very soft way* apollo: *furious* he's mocking me. why are you like this? klavier: I enjoy your company apollo: FINE, KEEP YOUR SECRETS

also consider: - what if klavier was a big ol golden retriever and apollo was just an angry liddol bunny. like, think about it

Or please do remix it with any of my general tropes listed above!

Wotakoi

I love that this series has three couples in different stages of a relationship: one who’ve been together for years and love each other like well-worn grooves; one who have history but have only just recently begun a relationship and are discovering each other anew; and one who probably will not bring themselves to share a kiss for another 27 calendar years.

Narumi/Hirotaka: Honestly, the main couple of a series usually goes over my head a bit, but the more i thought about these two the more wretchedly fond of them I became. The thing I think of the most is how Narumi taught him how to smile as a child; how she did things that meant nothing to her, so easily does kindness come, but that meant so much to him; and how now that they are grown, he does things for her that take no effort, but shake her foundations. I think theirs is a love that grows quietly; something that cannot change the world, but can change them.

Koyanagi/Kabakura: My thoughts on these two are not complex, but they are deeply positive. I love how huge their personalities are, and how they fit around and against each other; I love the implication that despite their endless bickering, they are not an on-again-off-again kind of relationship, and have instead chosen each other over and over again for ten straight years. I love that despite everything, they are kind to each other, first and foremost; they find ways to apologise and to take care of each other, and treat each other gently in private.

Kou/Naoya: I love every ship in this manga equally but perhaps I love Kou/Naoya more equally than the other two? They are just so kind and so silly, and so sweet to each other in exactly the way both of them didn’t realise they were missing. I think about Naoya being told that Kou is “okay with being alone”, and realising that “okay with it” and “have accepted it” are different, and taking his little baby steps to fix it. I think about Kou giving Naoya every last drop of patience he’s trained himself not to accept, and doing so because it simply makes her happy. My only concern is that they are both bottoms. I don’t have a solution for this.

suggested prompts, fic:

- accidentally dating ft. Kou and Naoya, or, “and you’ve made out how many times now? Hmm. Yeah, that’s not technically a bromance.” - 5 times Hirotaka and Narumi almost, almost kissed, and 1 time they did; the unresolved romantic tension may kill me and it would be worth it - what Hirotaka and Narumi taught each other (apart from the more mundane gaming and life skills, i believe that she taught him how to smile and be loved by others, and he taught her how to be loved by herself!) - smutty domesticity ft. Koyanagi and Kabakura — a lazy Sunday, laundry in the sun, fucking on the couch, everything easy with familiarity - (addendum to above: pegging)

suggested prompts, art: - festival clothes - someone’s getting married - naoya: *hands kou a tangerine* *hands kou a tangerine* *hands kou a tangerine* *hands kou a tangerine* *hands kou a t - red string of fate motifs

Or please do remix it with any of my general tropes listed above!

Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-Kun

seowaka: they are idiots, and they like each other very much, but they do not know. i love a tall crying boy and his short but much more powerful girlfriend.

chiyo/nozaki + chiyo/nozaki/mikorin: im rooting for her in the face of such overwhelming stupidity. one himbo is difficult enough to seduce but two. chiyo is a hero and a woman of rare courage. i like the pair and the trio equally; again, if you go with trio, it’s important that they all love each other please!

suggested prompts: - 5 times any of these ships went on a date without realising, and the time they realised - urban fantasy AU where Waka is a hapless monster hunter and Seo is an annoying but deeply harmless werewolf who’s been terrorizing his town?? - fairytale AU where Seo believes she must rescue the prince from the tower and deliver him back to the kingdom capital, and the prince, who had not realised he’d been kidnapped, thinks Seo is a usurper from a rival kingdom who must be supervised all the way back to the kingdom capital to be served her justice

suggested prompts, art-specific: - festival clothes… - nozaki carrying chiyo, who’s carrying mikorin - (seo carrying waka) - waka sleeping peacefully in seo’s presence… :’(

Or please do remix it with any of my general tropes listed above!

we made it through all the fandoms.

Thank you for making it to the end of this whole disaster; I hope at least one of the prompts sparked joy! The most important thing to me is that whatever you end up doing, you are able to enjoy the process at least somewhat, and deliver a creation that you like! I can also be found on twitter at @hawberries_ (for art) and @popplioikawa (for general ramblings). If you need some more inspo, I recommend going through my art tags for the selected ships because I put a lot of Opinions into my fanart.

[im-the-king-of-the-ocean]

Rose Puppetry

*saunters onto your dashboard*

sooooo who ordered the Nuts and Dolts Steampunk AU? 

@misstrashchan

(chapter 1 of 2, bc when you get over 1k words and are still on build-up, you may as well just split the fic into two chapters - well that and I really need to tend to my other fics too, but want to share this one now)

I’m gonna make y’all wait for that sweet sweet satisfying closure

(also, forgot to mention, this is roughly inspired by the Mechanism’s Once Upon a Time (In Space) album - do with that information whatever you’d like)

.

Blinding sunlight glares into everyone’s eyes as the drop ship ascends above the heavy cloud of pollution fog ever present over Mantle and cuts into the crisp, clear, blue sky.  The men among them wince and shield their eyes.  The rewired Mantle Street Soldier Units (MSSU-132s) don’t react at all.  Penny adjusts her eyes’ aperture until she can see perfectly again.

It’s been a while since any of them have seen daylight.  Mantle’s manufacturing plants create and maintain a thick smog that tends to absorb anything but rain too hard to be stopped.  Atlas Prime’s bulking shadow, too, stops most any light from reaching its sister city’s streets.

Their pilot cloaks their ship and gives Penny her cue.  She begins emitting radio interference that should make them undetectable to Atlesian scanners.  They fly toward the dominating stronghold in the sky.  No one who can breath does so very loudly, as if they’ll be heard over the increasingly loud whir and whine of Prime’s great Flight Engines.

Atlas Prime, formerly just the City of Atlas, can be considered one of the greatest marvels in the world.  An entire city in the sky, kept aloft by the largest, most powerful steam engines to ever exist.  A century ago, its founders built Atlas as a symbol of innovation, one meant to inspire future generations to look up and dream of what they could accomplish if only they applied themselves.  Though their aspirations and intent were genuine, those distinguished inventors failed to take into account the sheer amount of resources maintaining the City of Atlas would require as it grew.

In the beginning, historical documents claimed, Atlas’s needs led to an economic boom in Mantle, as money flowed freely from the flying city to pay for everything it took.  Then, something (the relinquishing of the Schnee Dust Company from its founder into his son-in-law’s hands, a handful of brave historians who no one has heard from since, claimed) changed.

Atlesians, growing content and complacent in their power, started to hoard their wealth.  They paid less, demanded more, and drove independent, Mantle-run businesses into the ground when they refused to comply with Atlesian wishes.  It wasn’t long until Mantle became little more than a collection of mass production factories kept firmly under Atlas’s thumb after that.

The hunger of Atlas, though, is known to this day to be an insatiable beast.  Mantle could provide it with building materials and fuel, but their shared location in bitter Solitas meant food beyond what arctic creatures could be hunted or the scarce few crops that would grow in their soil was an impossibility.

Thus, the Atlesian Conquest began.

The elderly, Mantle’s grandmothers and grandfathers, when they have a rare moment of rest, will sit and rasp out the story of the day Beta Atlas detached from Prime and flew off into the horizon in the direction of Vacuo.  Not to return before news of the invasion into the desert kingdom filtered back to Mantle’s streets.

Beta Atlas was only the first of the Atlesian war machines.  Since its launch, fortresses too numerous to count have been built and flown off to conquer Remnant.  Every now and then, reports of new victories or surrenders will play on the nightly news radio broadcast.

Vacuo remains stubbornly independent, despite all the General King of Atlas’s best efforts.  Although, it’s rumored Vacuo’s once fabled oasis have all been drained and little more of worth remains in the desert.  Thus, without anything of too much interest to keep it, Atlas’s attention has turned elsewhere.  

Mistral signed a treaty with Atlas as quickly as it could, and thus remains untouched by war.  No one knows how long that will last.  No one in Mantle believes it will.  The people of Mistral, Mantle’s inhabitants whisper amongst themselves, are fooling themselves if they think Atlas will let anyone remain out of its complete, dominating control for long.

However, that’s a fight for another time.  Currently speaking, Atlas’s eye is transfixed upon Vale, where its conquest has met strong resistance.  Despite having lesser technology available to them, the Huntsmen Army of Vale have fought Atlesian forces back again and again.  Stories have spread about Vale’s legendary huntsmen and huntresses and their clever tactics.  They might not be stronger or more powerful than Atlas’s robotic forces, but they’re definitely smarter.  Unpredictable.

For the first time in a very long time, there’s whispers of hope that something might be able to stop Atlas.

Penny finds and clasps her hand around the gold locket she wears around her neck, without taking the trinket out from under her shirt.  It would shimmer and shine and draw too much attention if she were to do that.  But, holding onto it grounds her, reminds her of her mission.

Penny once believed in Atlas.  She was built to carry out its will.  Sent to Vale long before the first flying war fortress, and disguised as a regular, human girl.  Her mission was to observe and spy.  She’d been programmed with curiosity, to learn as much as she could.  And she had.  Too much, in fact.

For her entire existence up to her deployment in Vale, all Penny knew was solitude.  Unlike the rest of Atlas’s automated army, she wasn’t mass-produced.  Penny is the singular product of blueprints uncovered in what was revealed to be the long lost workshop of Pietro Polendina, one of the last Great Minds of Atlas.  Whereas many only saw her blueprints as the frivolity of a man who didn’t live in a time of war, General King Ironwood himself had seen potential.  He’d ordered Penny’s creation, given her weaponry upgrades, cared for her, kept her safe as his ‘secret weapon.’  Then, the day had come where he told her it was time to fulfill her destiny.

She’d been ecstatic.  She was finally getting to go out and See The World and help bring an entire kingdom into the safety and security of Atlas’s rule, wasn’t it wonderful?

It was.  For a time.

Vale is a beautiful kingdom.  Rich and vibrant in ways Penny never could have dreamed after only knowing a greasy, barely illuminated lab as home.  She’d loved exploring.  Finding and studying in the great libraries open to all.  Wandering around outdoors where the sky isn’t a perpetual exhaust gray, where birds sing, and where little multi-colored butterflies flutter everywhere.

It was chasing after such a butterfly that Penny had stumbled into someone and the direction of her life had forever changed.  She learned what it was like to have a friend in the following days.  To not constantly feel alone.

To fall in love.

Here now, in the rebellion drop ship, Penny wishes she could open her locket.  Just so she can see Ruby’s face again.  Sure, if everything goes well on their mission, she will see Ruby again by day’s end.

But nothing is ever certain, especially in war.

“Get ready,” the pilot tells the rescue team.  “We’re arriving at the drop point.”

Penny braces herself.  Regardless of their success probability (currently hovering at a frustrating low 67%), she will do everything she can to save Ruby.

Because she loves her dearly.

And because it’s Penny’s fault she was captured in the first place.