#honestly I started this post just wondering what happened to Jazz and all *waves hand everywhere* this happened

[mkarchin713]

Ellie was relieved now that they where in space Danny could finally start healing. Being on the run from the government counted as traveling so Ellie had healed faster than Danny, now that they where in space Danny was healing even faster than she did.

Despite their his recovery however they where both still trapped in the form of children. One of the GIW experiments to force them into their ‘true form’. Technically it had worked, they had just reverted to their ghost age instead of turning into the monsters the GIW insisted they where. Danny and Ellie had both been punished severely for “trying to trick them into thinking they where he was an actual children child ”, of course anything they did that even suggested they where sentient and not inherently malicious got them him punished.

Their His most recent punishment hadn’t even been their fault in the first place, but then again the GIW bases wouldn’t have been attacked if the GIW hadn’t captured the two of them. From what she could tell from the complaints of her captors, the town of Amity Park did not appreciate their hero being taken captive by a group that did more damage trying to capture ghosts then the ghosts ever did themselves. They probably didn’t appreciate the information blackout they had around Amity or the fact that Ellie herself had revealed it to the populous either.

Ellie still couldn’t believe she had gotten herself captured but she couldn’t just leave Danny in their clutches. Sam and Tucker tried to stop her, Jazz probably would have too if she hadn’t been trapped outside Amity, the ghost shield the Fentons set up worked in both directions, ghosts and liminals couldn’t enter or leave.

Ellie cursed the Fentons, this was all their fault. They where the ones who sold their own flesh and blood to the GIW just because he was half ghost. Maybe if she or Jazz had been there they could have stopped it, but Jazz had just started college and Ellie was half a world away when it happened.

Ellie still didn’t know how the Fentons found out, maybe Danny finally told them? maybe they caught him mid transformation? Maybe they shot Danny out of the sky? Ellie didn’t know and it wasn’t like she could ask Danny.

The GIW had muzzled him before she got there. The muzzle had two functions, to prevent the scientists from losing anymore fingers and as a precaution in case Danny’s vocal cords grew back ahead of schedule. Ellie’s vocal cords where still growing back, she hated sounding like a baby but it would take a while before she could pronounce anything properly again.

The space flight had helped her more than she thought it would. Ellie could feel her breaks healing and her organs returning to their proper place, some where even growing back faster than before. Perhaps being in orbit around the Earth counted as travel or it could be that this had been the freest she had felt since her capture.

Ellie was lucky she had a travel and freedom obsession, that had been relatively easy to fulfill. Danny’s protection and space obsession was much more difficult on the run. The city lights damped the stars and Danny was in no condition to protect anybody. So while her wounds healed, Danny’s wound festered.

Danny had supplemented his obsession in the labs by making himself a more appealing target, it wasn’t difficult with the GIW obsession with him and the Fentons misplaced desire for vengeance. Ellie had been so weak from obsession withdrawal she could feel herself fading. Danny’s drive to protect her had been enough to give him the strength to escape. It didn’t matter that the Fentons were elbow deep in his chest cavity and messing with his core. The second they suggested doing that to her Danny had snapped.

Danny used up all his reserves freeing Ellie. Ellie had used most of her energy getting Danny out of there. Finding the space cop had been a blessing. She had only approached him in hopes that being close to someone associated with space would feed Danny’s obsession enough to help him heal. If the space cop had tried anything funny she was fully prepared to end him and have Danny absorb the residual ecto from his death.

The only reason Danny was even alive was due to all the rats and birds she was able to catch and kill for him. Their ghost side needed the ecto and their human side needed the protein. Ellie was shocked they he hadn’t turned into full ghosts under the GIW care. Anytime they he did anything remotely human, needing to eat, to drink, even go to the bathroom was meet with punishment from the agents. But the agents punishments where nothing compared to the Fentons.

The Fentons had dissolved into pure madness. At times they acted like they always did, calling each other pet names and acting like idiot savants . Other times they where cold unfeeling scientists who just saw Ellie and Danny as simply another specimen. On their worst days they where grieving parents, punishing Phantom for the death of their son, unwilling to believe that they had inadvertently caused Danny half death and where purposefully trying to cause his full death.

Ellie could barely imagine what Danny was going through and feeling. A part of her didn’t want him wake up and face the reality of what happened to him, to them. Another part just wanted Danny to wake up and hug her, so she could finally rest and to feel safe again.

All Ellie could really do now was wait for Danny to wake up and hope he could still be the same person he was before. And maybe hope she was too

Hal bent down as the little girl approached him. Even then, he still managed to tower over her with how small she was.

"Hey there little lady," he said. "Anything I can help you with this fine evening?"

The little girl looked at him anxiously, fiddling with her hands. Ok so not a nervous fan. Hal immediately switched to serious mode, scanning the crowd for anyone who could be her parents. He didn't see anyone running up to the two of them or even so much as keeping a watchful eye from a distance.

"Is something the matter?" Hal questioned, making sure to keep his voice even and calm.

The girl continued fidgeting, her big blue eyes scanning from side to side. Finally she spoke. "You wiff da space po-eece yes? Not da am-ear-ree-ca one?"

Hal smiled at the girl. "Yes, I'm with the space police." Honestly that was oversimplifying the Corps a little but he had long since gotten to citizens calling him a space cop.

The girl offered up a small nervous smile of her own. "So you won't tell da gov-ment what I tell you wight?"

Hal was on high alert now. Just what was this little girl trying to tell him? "I won't tell. I promise," he said after a second.

The girl broke into a big smile at this. "Really? Dis way den." She started tugging Hal along and he began to follow.

"Where exactly are we going?" he asked.

"You see," was all she replied.

Hal was led down a couple different alleyways and was beginning to think he was walking into a trap when they reached an abandoned building. The girl dashed in and up the old rusted stairs, with Hal following closely behind her.

If this really is a trap, I'll never hear the end of it from Batman, he thought morbidly as he cleared the last step. Instead of finding himself facing an ambush however, he saw a boy curled up on an old mattress. The girl was already by his side as Hal approached.

"Don wowee Danny, I got help. Like I said I would," he caught the little girl whispering as he knelt down next to the boy. He had to have been older than the girl. Three years older maybe? Yet he was still so small. Hal took sight of his condition. He was in pain. That much was certain by his little face scrunched up in agony and his quiet moans. He was also sweating profusely. His raven black hair sticking to his forehead. Fever maybe?

Hal continued his observations as he scanned down the boy's body until he got to his stomach. The boy was clutching it and Hal could make out blood bleeding through from underneath. Oh no.

He quickly yet carefully removed the boy's arm to get a better look at the wound. The kid let out a groan as his arm was peeled away. Hal couldn't help but thank Oa for all his training that helped prevent him from letting out a gasp.

The boy's chest was covered in blood. Dark red mixed with flecks of green soaked through his shirt and there were bandages that had been amateurishly tied around the wound.

"How did this happen?" Hal asked, turning back to the girl. He did his best to keep his tone as gentle as possible.

Her smile was gone now, and her eyes welled up with tears. "He pwotected me," she said. "Dey wanted to huwrt us. Dey shot at us. Danny pwotected me."

Anger boiled within Hal. Who would shoot at these children? They were only little kids. If what the girl had said earlier was anything to go off of, the answer had something to do with the government. He would have to take care of that later though. For now, this boy needed medical attention.

"Let's get Danny to a hospital," Hal said resolutely, as he got up.

"No!" the little girl screeched. "No has-pee-tail. Too dan-er-us!"

"But he needs-" Hal started but then he met the girl's eyes. There was abject fear in them. As if going to the hospital would be a death sentence for both children. Where else were they supposed to go though? The boy- Danny needed medical attention stat. That much was certain.

Hal paused. There was one place. He sighed. Batman was going to kill him for this.

"Okay okay. No hospital. But what about space?"

"Space?" the girl repeated.

Hal nodded.

The little girl smiled. "Danny lobes space!"

"Well then. That's perfect."

Hal constructed a new bed for the boy, carefully easing him onto it before putting a protective dome around both children. The little girl giggled as he lifted them up. He then turned to the wall where he created a giant hammer to knock it down. Then they were off. Flying higher and higher, towards the atmosphere. As the Watchtower got closer in sight, Hal couldn't help but groan. Taking civilians to the Watchtower? Oh yeah, Batman was definitely going to kill him.

[lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks]

what the fuck I just found this in my drafts I literally wrote this years ago, like a very significant number of years ago this is old shit

and apparently I just saved it and forgot about it??? anyway I polished it up and now it is here, I have no context and I barely even remember writing it, enjoy!

my apologies for the long post I still can't figure out how to do read mores in the app

edit: some lovely people have unformed me how to use readmores, thank you ~

-----

Jack was starting to wonder perhaps if he'd done something wrong.

It wasn't uncommon for him to accidentally say or do something to upset his wife or daughter, although usually when such an event occurred Maddie would glare at him to express her displeasure, and Jazz would always take the opportunity to tell him in exact detail what he'd done wrong and how to make it up to them (something he was honestly very grateful for).

It must have been something pretty bad this time, because both women wouldn't even look him in the eye.

Jack first twigged that something was off that morning during breakfast, when he sat in the empty chair by Jazz's side and gave his usual greeting, "Hey Jazzypants!"

She ignored his presence completely, steely eyes glued to the wall opposite her, they were puffy and red and Jack wondered perhaps if she'd been crying.

It had been a long time since her problems were easily pushed aside by her father's warm hugs and jovial attitude, he had stopped being able to handle a crying Jazz after she'd turned twelve and countered his attempts at humour by insisting that he 'stop trivialising her distress', whatever THAT meant.

Nevertheless, warm hugs and gentle jokes were the only method he knew and so he wrapped a comforting arm around her thin shoulders, noting that she continued to sit still as a rock, not even glancing his way as he tried to coax a smile out of her.

Jazz didn't say a word as she pushed herself away from her unfinished breakfast and left the room.

It was when he walked down to the lab intending to ask Maddie about Jazz that Jack started to suspect he may have been the one responsible, as it became apparent that the two had seemed to coordinate their punishment for whatever transgression he'd made.

"Hey Mads!" his voice boomed over the noise of his wife's current project. He strained to see through the bright light of her blow torch at the large gun-like weapon on the table. Jack whistled in appreciation is he took in the size of what he assumed was some kind of rocket launcher. "So what are we calling this one? Ooh! How about, The Fenton Spectre 'Sploder!"

Maddie's goggles made it difficult to see what expression adorned her face, but her tensed shoulders and the shaky grip on the blow torch told him that she was most certainly upset about something.

"Mads? Are you alright?" his voice quivered slightly as he took a few steps closer, seeing his wife this tense tightened a coil within his chest. Suspecting that he may be responsible added an extra weight to his stomach that he knew wasn't cause by the breakfast he'd skipped.

The light from the blow torch snapped off and Jack had to blink the bright spots it left behind from his vision, trying to peer through the blotches to find any indication that Maddie was going to acknowledge his presence. It seemed as though she'd looked his way for a moment but before his eyes could clear enough to meet hers she'd looked away again.

Jack watched, puzzled as his wife raised a hand to cover her mouth and catch the sob that ripped its way from her throat, she hadn't succeeded as the sound echoed across the lab and tore its way straight through Jack's heart, causing his eyes to sting and his throat to close up.

He reached a hand out to touch her shoulder, intent on giving her some form of comfort. He'd barely brushed it with his finger tips before Maddie stormed right past him up to the stairs, Jack had to quickly stumble backwards to avoid being trampled.

He couldn't imagine what he possibly could have done to elicit such a response from the woman he loved, but he knew for sure that he must have done something terrible for her to not seek him out for comfort like she did any other time she was upset. He just wished he could remember what.

Jack's shoulders slumped under the dim light of the glowing jars of ectoplasm lining the various counter-tops, he dry-swallowed a few times, trying to push down his confusion and distress before following his wife's light footsteps up the stairwell.

He found her in the kitchen, leaning against a counter with her goggles slung around her neck and her wild red hair loose around her head, abundant with the kinks and tangles Jack usually watched her brush out of it every morning.

"Mads?" Jack said, voice rough and quiet, "Look I... if I did something wrong I-" Jack's apology froze in his throat as Jazz poked her head through the kitchen door, eyes once again glancing right over Jack and instead locking onto her mother.

Neither woman shared a word as Jazz crossed the room and wrapped her arms around Maddie, who desperately grabbed at her daughter in return, burying her face in long red hair as violent sobs wracked her whole body.

Jack, at a loss of what else to do, wrapped his own arms around his girls. Nestling his chin on his daughters hair, he expected the annoyed scoff that Jazz usually gave him for his 'chin noogies', but it never came. Neither Fenton woman pushed him away though, so Jack considered it progress.

Finally, after an age of rocking and sobbing, Maddie's muffled words escaped through strands of Jazz's hair.

"Where is he? W-where'd he go, where'd he go?"

A deep chill coursed through Jack's veins, Danny? Had something happened to Danny? Jack pulled away, a million questions thrumming through his mind.

What happened? Was he missing? Was he hurt? Had he run away, been kidnapped, been kill- no. Jack shook his head violently, running a hand through the shorts strands of his thick hair. No he couldn't be. He couldn't be he couldn't be.

Jack's mouth was on the verge of catching up to his brain, multiple questions bubbled at his lips when he heard a voice echo down the stairs.

"Jazz?"

Jack took a steadying breath and grasped at the counter for support, relief flooding his body as his son rounded the corner and came into view. Danny was fine, Danny was safe. He had been fretting over absolutely nothing.

Then Danny's eyes locked into his.

A number of emotions flickered across his son's face, the first being a brief moment of sheer relief and delight, but it didn't last. Soon, too soon, Danny's dark brows pulled together and his lips curled sourly in confusion before a new expression swept it away. It was one Jack had never seen before.

He felt as though the air had been sucked out of the room, an icy chill prickled up his arms as the sudden wave of absolute horror overtook Danny's face. Jack couldn't tell if his son was about to break down crying or scream.

And then it was over. The tension in Jack's limbs released as Danny's face flattened into an unnaturally blank expression, he dropped his gaze and continued his way over to Maddie and Jazz. Once again it was like Jack wasn't even there.

Danny placed a hand on his mother's shoulder. "Maybe you should do another lap around town, you might find something today." he spoke softly into her frazzled hair.

Jazz looked at Danny strangely, her brother sent her back a glance that must have held some meaning because she then gripped Maddie tightly around the shoulders and led her straight out of the house, and suddenly Jack recalled that he still didn't know who it was that had gone missing.

"So... is anyone gonna tell me what's going on?" the jovial tone Jack meant to use came out flat and strained, Danny didn't look even remotely amused.

"I think you should sit down." Danny said quietly. He was no longer meeting Jack's eyes as he pulled out a chair for himself and one for his father.

Jack took the offered seat and prepared himself for the worst, obviously someone dear to Maddie and the kids had gone missing, Jack ran a list of all the people they knew, preparing himself for the worst, it was obvious Danny did not want to tell him what had happened. Perhaps whoever was missing was someone that Jack in particular had been close to? Was that the reason behind the horrified look on Danny's face? Because he'd realised he was going to have to be the one to tell him?

Something in Jack's gut told him he was on the wrong track, but try as he might he just couldn't imagine what else it could possibly be.

Jack kept his eyes on his son as the boy's thin torso straightened up in his chair and his icy blue stare bored into Jack's. Danny took a deep breath, then took several more, eventually he seemed almost ready to speak, Jack didn't rush him.

"Dad... you're dead."

[havethetimeofyourstyles]

Chapter Three.

a/n: get ready for the yearning in this chapter! also please make sure to reblog to share and leave feedback — it really helps writers continue wanting to post and continue writing.

SERIES MASTERLIST | word count: 8.2k

come talk to me about wtsgd! i’d love to know your thoughts!

April 30, 2017

Luci woke up to loud knocking on her front door, too loud for eight in the morning when she wanted to sleep in. She thought she was dreaming, like someone was knocking directly onto her head, telling her to wake up. But the knocking increased, making her scream into her pillow, getting out of bed. Her pink soft house slippers that Ren made sure she brought so she wouldn’t get her new floors dirty with her outside shoes padded on the wooden floor and towards the entrance, opening the door. 

Once she opened her door, her parents and Nathan were behind it, smiling as they waved their hands into a jazz-like movement. 

“Lulu!” 

“My Lucky!” 

“Ana!” 

Her family charged through her doorway, bringing her into their arms for a family group hug. Luci was wide awake and smiling at the sight and presence of her family. They all eventually let her go to give her individual hugs to have their own moment because they just missed her that much. 

They made their way out of the front entrance and hallway, walking more into her apartment as Ren and Beatrice looked around in awe of how much natural light that was provided. She gave her parents a tour before they all settled into the living room where they had a cup of coffee in to-go cups and ate breakfast sandwiches. 

Luci then told them the events that happened yesterday, minus her unexpected hangout with Harry, and they were furious. All at once, their hearts broke but were quick to ignite with anger. 

“How could she do that?!” Ren had an angry expression on his face, and it was one that she and Nathan had always been afraid of ever since they were younger; it was rare to see their father angry since he was much softer as it would take a lot for him to get him to that state. 

She shrugged her shoulders. “People favor power over fairness these days, or else they’d lose their biggest stars.” Nathan scoffed from the sofa chair next to the couch, but didn’t say anything more. 

It was the harsh truth of showbiz that almost everyone knew—it was a fact; Broadway and Hollywood don’t play fair, it’s obvious they want the best of the best, and if that’s passing up a new talent that could take them to the moon over the seniority of actors who’ve been in the industry for much longer, they’ll take that opportunity. And Luci knew that when she signed up for this. 

Beatrice told Luci that she was sorry this was happening, and they all agreed that whenever her time to perform on stage comes, they’d be there. Luci smiled at her lap, appreciating their support. The Suki family talked for another hour and a half, catching up on the month that passed when they weren’t all together, before they took the subway to the hotel they were staying at to catch their flight out of New York. Luci said her goodbyes to them in front of the hotel, apologizing that they had to come out here for nothing, but they brushed it off, saying that they would do it again just to see her. 

She watched them get into an Uber, waving at her family as they took off down the streets of Manhattan. She took the subway back to Brooklyn as she wrote down a list of what she wanted to do today; find more decorations, clean, eat pizza, and crack a bottle of wine because she damn well needed it. 

It was almost eleven a.m. when she got back to her apartment and decided to get ready for the day. Her throat felt incredibly dry, so she hydrated herself, gulping the liquid down her throat until she heard a knock on her door. Luci furrowed her brows, wondering if it was Nathan or Beatrice behind that door, asking if they’d left their wallet or phone since they were the more forgetful ones in the family, but when she looked around her living room, she didn’t find anything.

A knock on the door was heard and Luci sighed, walking over to open it as she didn’t expect the person behind it. 

“Samuel?” 

“Hey, babe.” A smug smile was present on his face, but a scowl was present on hers, rolling her eyes at the pet name.

“What are you doing here—no, how do you even know where I live?” Luci placed her hand on her hip, a wrinkle in between her eyebrows. 

“Not gonna let me in?” He gave her an amusing smile, and she rolled her eyes, huffing before moving to the side and letting him in. He walked into the main part of the apartment, looking around. 

Luci crossed her arms, trailing behind him. “So, are you gonna answer my question?” 

“I got your address when you texted me to come over that one night, remember?” 

She mentally cursed herself. Her relationship with Samuel had done a complete one-eighty. After the afterparty on opening night, things were very weird between them after she denied his request to have sex with him in the bathroom of the longue. He had avoided her unless it was work related, but even then, he kept the conversation and words to a minimum, adding attitude and rudeness. If she thought things were weird then, it got even weirder the night leading up to when Daisy took her spotlight on stage last night. 

During rehearsals, he’d flirt with Daisy sometimes even kiss her up. Daisy would give Luci a snarky look every time his face was in her neck, biting her skin, and that was when Luci found out the real reason why Daisy despised her. All because of Samuel. All because of a man. The bitter looks didn’t bother Luci and it wasn’t like she was jealous, but it simply confused her because one day he wanted to fuck her and was sweet to her but when she said no, he was rude and would fuck someone else—there was no real type of closure. He probably took her into the bathroom after she left, Luci thought. 

So, she didn’t really care for him anymore because after all, he was just a someone to fuck; all she cared about was why he decided to show up at her apartment unannounced and uninvited. 

“That was a very weak moment for me.” Luci rebutted mockingly; Samuel scoffed and smirked cockily. He leaned against her countertops, and she hated that she still found him attractive because anyone with eyes knew very clearly that he was a very sexy guy, and the worst part was that he knew it too—he knew it very well. “So, tell me what the fuck you’re doing here?” 

“I’m here to tell you that you’re probably not going to perform anytime soon…” he said in a mocking tone, a fake pout on his face as he gave her puppy-dog eyes. 

She scoffed, shaking her head lightly. “Aww, did Daisy tell you to come all the way here and tell me that?” 

“And if she did?” 

“It’s cute that you’re a messenger now. It suits you since you have all this time to waste, like you did mine.” She breathed out a laugh, making him roll his eyes, and it only brought satisfaction to hurt his huge ego. “Well, how about you tell your little Daisy to stop sending people to tell me things because if she had the balls, then she would tell me herself. Plus, you’re wasting your time here to tell me one little thing that doesn’t affect me.” Luci dramatically gasped. “I’m really living in both of your minds rent-free, aren't I?” 

Samuel inhaled heavily, biting back his words as if Luci had offended him, but it would only make sense that he felt that way because of his feelings for Daisy. He headed towards the door with Luci hot on his tail as a way to push him out faster than he came in. 

“Well, I’ll see you Luci—not on stage, but yeah, I’ll see you.” She wasn’t going to lie, but those few words took a dig at her heart; luckily, she’s an actor, so she was able to mask her pain and anger, giving him a scornful smile as she opened the door. Samuel chuckled, not amusingly but in a way that made him think that she was an outright bitch. 

Harry’s door suddenly opened, making him stop in his tracks as he witnessed the interaction happening because it definitely looked like this guy was just leaving her place. Luci’s head turned towards him as her eyes widened slightly; Harry had a weird look on his face, looking back and forth between her and Samuel. 

“Hey, Harry.” Luci broke his train of thought and Harry looked directly at her, smiling slightly. 

“Hi, Luci.” She suddenly felt a wave of nerves wash through her, butterflies erupting in her stomach once he said her name, thinking that he was by far the best person to say it. 

She felt antsy, fiddling with fingers as she started bouncing on the balls of her feet—a habit that she did when she started to feel nervous. Samuel could see straight through her, catching all the signs when she was a bit anxious and he had a feeling that it had something to do with her neighbor. 

Samuel brisked past her, giving her a kiss on the cheek to mess with both of them; Luci’s eyes widened, pulling her face back but it was too late as his lips had already connected with her skin. 

“See you, Luci.” Instead of the cocky smirk he had when he arrived, he had a loving and kind smile as he left because he wasn’t the only actor in the room. 

Once Samuel rounded the corner, Luci looked at Harry and there was a crease in between his brows. 

“I-I, uh, that’s not-”

“No worries. You don’t need to explain to me, honestly.” Harry walked out into the hallway, locking his door before giving her a toothless grin and walking down the hall. 

Luci’s mouth was slightly ajar as she watched him. She closed her door and placed her forehead against it quite harshly, letting out a frustrated groan.

After much sulking, she decided to get on with her day, hoping she can be as productive as she hoped to be. But the thought of if Harry liked her—even as a person or ‘friend,’ if she could call herself that—lingered around in her head; and she doesn’t know why what he thought of her had so much of an affect on her, but it did. Maybe it was because she had a sort of infatuation with her neighbor, or that she couldn’t stop thinking about him and what he was doing across the hall. Whatever it was, she only hoped that he liked her too. 

May 13, 2017 

Quite early, Luci received a phone call from Tal. 

Her phone was buzzing rapidly on her brown wooden nightstand; and in her sleep, she was trying to determine if she had set an alarm the previous night. When she thought she did, she let her phone snooze for ten minutes. But it was certainly not an alarm because just a few seconds after the buzzing stopped, it had started again. 

Grumpy as usual in the morning, she groaned, propping her elbows on her mattress as she pried her eyes open and picked up her phone. When she saw Tal as the caller ID, her brows furrowed in confusion. 

“Hello?” 

“Luci? Luci? Hi, can you hear me?” The gauging sound of the city was heard on the other end of the call, and she could just imagine Tal placing one hand to her ear as she walked through the bustling streets. 

“Yeah, I can. Hi.” Luci’s voice increased, becoming more audible for Tal. 

“Great! So, I’m glad you answered. I know things have been a bit weird lately ever since, y’know…” she said, referring to when Daisy had stolen her spotlight. “But I want to let you know that you’re performing tonight. I’m saying this in a calm manner because I know you know the shit in the show, so I’m not worried about it. But I need you to play Kim tonight.” 

Luci’s breath hitched in her throat as her eyes widened. She was completely speechless and she felt like she was dreaming. But first thing’s first, she needed to know why Tal’s statement at the end was demanding and slightly panicked. 

“What happened to Daisy?” She wondered, sitting up fully on the gray wrinkled sheets from her slumber. 

Tal sighed deeply, perceptible through the chaos of the outside. “Last night, she partied a bit too hard. She’s just getting back to her place, according to Samuel, and she was high off her ass. I don’t need that today, or ever. So, I figured this would be the perfect time for you to step in.” 

“And why me? Why not Wendy?” Luci referred to the understudy for Kim. 

“Listen, I’m sorry I didn’t stick up for you when I should’ve. Daisy has always been…intimidating to me, which is crazy because I run the show, but I should’ve been more stern with her. So, with Daisy out of the picture for today, I want you to perform tonight.” 

Tal genuinely felt guilty that she wasn’t being the stage director that she should’ve been. She let Daisy control some of the show when it should’ve been her to direct everyone. Tal loved her job, she did, but every time she had Daisy as one of the lead characters, she almost dreaded work. She didn’t want to be one of those people who dreaded work because although theatre is stressful at times, it’s also fun and her passion. 

“Okay…” Luci couldn’t hold it in any longer. “I’ll perform tonight.” 

Tal let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank god. Okay, perfect. Thank you so much, Luci. I’ll see you at five.” \

“I’ll be there. Bye, Tal.” 

Luci hung up the phone and sat on her bed for what felt like forever, simply gazing into the sheets as she couldn’t believe what had happened. Luci was going to perform tonight; her dream was finally coming true. 

When the realization hit her, the corners of her lips turned up into a bright and excited smile. She laughed and screamed and squealed into her pillow, doing a little mini dance on her bed. Looking at the time, it was nearing eight so she had plenty of time to start her pre-show morning routine. But the first thing that she needed to do was to text her family. 

I’M PERFORMING TONIGHT! 

Instantly, she got responses from them. 

Nathan: REALLY?! I get off work at four, I could take a last minute flight. 

Luci hearted her brother’s message. 

Pa: Luci, I’m so happy for you! Your mother is still asleep but I’ll wake her up and tell her the news. We’ll see what we could do to make it to the show. 

She thanked them, texting that she hoped to see them tonight, but would understand if they couldn’t make it since it was last minute. 

Hopping out of bed, she washed up and changed into her workout clothes to go on a walk and grab a smoothie. It was such a beautiful day out that there were more people out on the streets in the morning than usual as they were basking in the bright sun and lovely weather. 

Once she got back home, she made her favorite breakfast—a bacon, egg, and cheese on a bagel with cream cheese; and rehearsed some of the more emotional and dramatic lines, taking notes on which parts needed more depth of emotion. 

The day had gone by relatively fast as she showered, tidied, and packed her belongings; and it was already 3:45, so she headed out the door. 

As Luci was locking up and about to walk down the hall, she looked at Harry’s door. She hadn’t talked to him in about two weeks, since the time he opened his door to Samuel kissing her cheek. She had sort of missed him, and she felt like the event with Samuel had put up a wall; she felt like he was avoiding her.

Thinking back to their conversation at the diner, she remembered that he told her he would be there when it was her time to perform, and she didn’t want to not inform him on that because she had a feeling that he would be disappointed hadn’t he known. 

Bravely, she stood in front of his door and knocked, hoping that he was home because she didn’t have his number to tell him. Luci waited one minute before she knocked again and waited another minute before sighing. Just as she was two feet down the hall, his door suddenly opened, making her turn around quickly. Harry looked out into the hall without taking a step out of his apartment and saw Luci with a tote bag on her shoulder, wearing leggings, a vintage tee with Stevie Nicks printed on it, and a beige cardigan. 

“Luci?” 

She turned around. “Harry, hi. Uh, how are you?” Her attitude had visibly changed and brightened as she was ecstatic to see that he answered the door. His hair was wet, separating the strands of hair into slightly thicker chunks as water droplets lingered at the tips; which explained why he didn’t answer the door right away. 

“Good, good. How are you?” 

“Good—great, actually. I-I’m actually performing tonight and I wanted to tell you that in case you wanted to watch the show.” She suppressed a wide smile, linking his hands together to refrain herself from jumping up and down in excitement. 

Harry raised his brows before the corners of his lips turned upward. “Really?” She nodded. “Luci, that’s amazing!” He exclaimed. 

“Yeah, I’m really excited. I was just called this morning that I was performing tonight, so I’m heading to the theatre right now.” 

“I’m so happy for you. But I, uh, have plans already tonight. I’m sorry,” he said sympathetically. Luci couldn’t deny the ache in her chest when he said that, but she completely understood as it was a last minute decision for her to perform. 

“Oh, no worries. Maybe another time whenever I get to perform again. I’ll let you know?” 

“Yeah, please do.” He nodded. There was a bit of silence after as there was nothing left to say. “Well, uh, good luck out there.”

“Thank you.” She smiled. “Maybe we could get some coffee or a smoothie. There’s this really good smoothie place down the street-”

“Brooklyn’s Smoothies?” He asked; Luci nodded. “That’s my go-to smoothie place. But yeah, I’m down for that. Just let me know when.” 

Now, she had another thing she could be excited about: her second hangout with Harry. 

“Great!” She headed towards the hall before she walked back towards him, pulling her phone out. “Here, put your number in—only if you want to.” He chuckled, grabbing her phone as he quickly put his number and name into his phone before handing it back to her. “I’ll text you. Bye, Harry!” She waved as she walked towards the end of the hall; Harry waved back before walking back into his apartment and closing the door. 

Once she was on the subway, she found Harry’s contact, which he named himself ‘Harry (neighbor)’ as if he thought she was going to forget who he was. But it was quite the opposite as he seemed to invade most of her mind as she mindlessly thought about him. She almost always curses herself for being so nervous around him, but that was because he somewhat intimidated her; and that said a lot because she’s very confident in her own skin and rarely finds anyone intimidating. But there was just something about him that made her nervous, and that thought slightly scared her. 

Hi, Harry! It’s Luci, here’s my number. 

She placed her phone face down on her thigh that was relentlessly bouncing before she hit send. Before sending it, she looked over the text, practically overthinking a simple greeting that didn’t need any more thinking. A few minutes later as she was transferring trains and sitting on the blue bench, her phone vibrated. She picked up her phone as the screen lit up; Harry’s message appeared on the screen. 

Hiiii, thank you. Good luck tonight x 

Luci smiled crazily at her phone, putting her chin to her chest as she hid her smile from the many people on the subway with her. She thanked him, and decided to start another conversation after the show so she could tell him how the show went, which was an excuse to text him again. She locked her phone and turned the volume up higher as G Luné played through her Airpods. 

Her cheeks had started to hurt due to the fact that she couldn’t stop smiling, like it was genuinely difficult for her stop. A surge of happiness and relief had washed over her that she felt the happiness line on her chart increase. With a little over two months of living in New York, she had felt like her career was going nowhere when that was the entire reason why she moved there; the whole situation with Daisy had made her life plateaued as her happiness line wasn’t moving upwards. But tonight, it was skyrocketing.

T-minus five minutes until showtime, and Luci was bouncing on the balls of her feet. She started humming and whistling to get her mind off the perturbation that ran along the linings and spaces of her body; it didn’t help that everyone was literally running around, passing by one another through the dark corridor. 

Obviously, everyone knew that it was Luci’s first night performing, so they tried keeping everything light and easy for her, which she appreciated. Once she walked through the doors of backstage, she was immediately greeted with warm and excited smiles—the complete opposite as the last time she walked through the door. Nina squealed and hugged her as they both jumped around in elation; Luci truly missed the first friend she’d ever made on Broadway, and they promised each other that they’d hangout more often outside the theatre. 

After Luci had her hair and makeup done, changed into her costume, and was mic'd up, she was standing on the side of the stage where she could hear the crowd settling into their seats as they talked amongst themselves. Peter, who was playing Chris tonight, stood beside her, rolling his neck in circles and moving his jaw around. She was glad to know that Samuel wasn’t performing tonight because god only knows what he would say to her, only to get inside of her head right before the show. 

She heard the technical and stage crew speak into their headsets, asking if everyone was ready as they counted down from ten. The lights went out, the curtains were pulled to the side, and Luci’s mind went blank as ‘Kim’ took over, completely owning this character because it was fucking showtime. 

After two hours of pouring emotion to give her best act while the spotlight was on her, shining brighter than ever before so she couldn’t see the audience below her, watching intently, her first performance was successfully over. 

She’d earned a majority of standing ovations and was called for another curtain call, where she ran back on stage to overwhelmingly smile brightly, waved, bowed, and blew kisses to the crowd who were whistling and cheering for her wonderful performance. This amazing and exhilarating feeling was something she anticipated, and it did not disappoint; it was a feeling that she wanted to feel every other night. She loved the praise, the cheers, and the claps that were thrown at her so fast that she could cry at how hard the impact was. 

When she left the stage and headed over to the dressing room, her cast members cheered for her as Luci clapped all around the room for everyone’s hard work tonight as well. They all took pictures with one another to share this memorable moment; Luci told everyone to send her the pictures because she wanted to get them framed for her apartment because this moment was definitely frame-worthy. 

When it was time to leave, they all took off their costume and hung it on its rightful rack, and changed into their own clothes before walking out into the lobby where the audience could meet and greet some of the cast. Cheers erupted in the lobby once the cast walked through the doors, and they all smiled, mouthing ‘thank you’ and bowing their heads in appreciation. 

Luci walked through the crowd as they stopped her to tell her that she did an amazing performance; she was grateful and said thank you to everyone she came across. She weaved through the crowd, trying to find Nathan or anyone she could share this moment with; and she was lucky that Nathan was tall because she spotted him instantly. 

When she finally reached him, she was somewhat surprised to see their parents with him because they didn’t mention they were coming tonight, just that they had to see what they could do in order to make it. 

Beatrice was the first one to hug her. “Oh, my Lucky Star. I’m so proud of you!” She hugged Luci tight, swaying to the side. Once her mother let go, she hugged her dad who had the proudest and biggest smile on his face. 

“Lulu, you did amazing up there.” She smiled into Ren’s shoulder, feeling herself tear up from the positive reaction of her performance. 

Nathan was patiently waiting for his hug; and Luci pulled away from her father, giving him a smile before hugging her brother. 

“Ana, you’re so talented.” He squeezed her, patting her back as she always found the action comforting since she was a little girl. Beatrice was taking photos of her kids, tears glossing her eyes at her greatest accomplishments. 

“Thank you for coming. I know you’re tired from work, but thank you for being here anyways.” She could tell that Nathan had just put a long coat over his navy blue scrubs, meaning that he had flown to New York straight from work. 

“No worries. We wouldn’t miss this for anything, honestly.” 

Luci pulled away, smiling as she faced her family. She thanked her parents for coming, still surprised, and they said the same thing Nathan did: that they wouldn’t miss it for the world. 

They took pictures amongst each other, taking a family selfie before Ren had just asked someone nearby to take a proper photo of them. 

“Excuse me? Do you mind taking a picture of us?” The man turned around, making Luci softly gasp. Tonight was just full of surprises because Harry was the one who turned around and nodded, grabbing her mother’s phone to take a picture of her family. 

Harry looked dashingly handsome; he wore black trousers, a baby pink shirt with a black coat over. He held a bouquet of flowers in his arms as he took the picture; and for the life of Luci, she couldn’t dare to stop smiling at him instead of the camera. 

Ren was the first to walk over to him and thanked him, but Harry didn’t walk away, he simply stayed put until Luci walked over towards him. Her parents and brother were looking at each other warily, wondering how Luci knew the man who took their picture. 

“You’re here.” She smiled so brightly as if the spotlight was glued onto her. 

Harry blushed, looking down at his feet before looking back up. “Yeah, I told you I would be here when you were going to perform, right?” Something that she hadn’t witnessed yet until now, that took her by surprise, was the dimple that indented his left cheek, more so than his right cheek. He looked absolutely adorable when he smiled, on top of being handsome; Harry was simply a beautiful man. 

“You did tell me that, I remember.” She couldn’t stop the giddy grin that felt like it was permanently placed on her face because she couldn’t believe that he was here. 

“Oh, these are for you. You did an amazing job—the crowd loved you.” He handed her the mixed bouquet of pink peonies, baby pink roses, white lillies, and baby’s breath wrapped in brown paper. Luci smiled down at the bouquet, admiring how pretty the colors and how well the different flowers looked together. She wondered if Harry picked these out himself; if he individually picked every single flower that was in the bouquet. 

Feeling her face heat up, she unexpectedly leaned in for a hug; and this time, he was ready as he opened his arms and hugged her. He squeezed her tighter than he did when she was crying in his arms, making her heart flutter in her chest. Luci had completely forgotten that her family was behind her until she pulled away. Her eyes slightly widened, knowing that they were most likely enjoying the show that was happening off-stage of her hugging a man they didn’t know. 

“Thank you so much for coming, Harry. It means a lot to me.” He simply nodded. Luci slightly turned her body, presenting herself to her family. “Uh, Harry, this is my family. And this is Harry; he’s my neighbor.” 

Beatrice brows raised, and Luci gave her a knowing look that told her not to say anything weird. 

“Hi, I’m Beatrice, Luci’s mom.” She shook his hand. 

“Hello, I’m Harry. Nice to meet you.” Beatrice turned towards Luci with wide eyes once she heard his accented voice, and she chuckled at her mother’s reaction. 

Ren and Nathan introduced themselves, and they all made conversation quite easily. It was a side that Luci’s never seen of Harry—quite talkative. She wondered if she was the problem as to why he wasn’t so talkative. But she figured that almost everyone wanted to impress and get along with their friend’s parents. 

Once they were finished talking amongst themselves, Beatrice whispered into Ren’s ear and then Nathan’s; and Luci wondered what they could be so secretive about that they couldn’t say it out loud. 

Suddenly, Nathan said, “Well, we’ll see you soon, Ana.” He gave her a quick hug as Luci furrowed her brows, confused. 

“Oh, I thought we could get dinner or something.” It was like her parents didn’t even consider her suggestion as they were hugging her goodbye. 

“I have to get back to Boston, work tomorrow, y’know?” Nathan excuses; Luci nodded, understanding before turning her head towards her parents, seeing which excuse they’ll use since tomorrow was Sunday. 

“Uh, we have a flight to catch—red-eye.” Beatrice spoke up, a little white lie slipping so easily on her tongue. Luci looked at Ren, finding him nodding, warily looking at his wife. 

She could tell, inside and out, that her parents weren’t being truthful because she knew that they’d want to spend every minute with her while they were in the city so they wouldn’t get a red-eye flight on her opening night. Plus, Beatrice had been eyeing her and Harry ever since he introduced himself, so she knew that her family acting weird and how they suddenly had to leave was most likely them wanting Luci to hangout with Harry. 

“Plus, don’t you have an afterparty to go to?” Ren asked. 

“I mean, yeah, but I could always skip it-”

“Now, why would you do that? It’s your opening night; people are gonna be wondering where you are!” Ren did make a point, making Luci mentally agreeing. 

Luci didn’t bother asking any more questions, and decided to let them leave, although she was a bit sad that they had to leave again. They said another round of goodbyes and hugged each other tightly; they planned to come to New York again so they could properly hang out, and Luci said that she’ll see what she could do with going back home to visit. Of course, they didn’t forget to say goodbye to Harry; Ren and Nathan shaking his hand as Beatrice gave him a hug. Luci watched them interact as if he was an old boyfriend or a new boyfriend that they happened to like and adore so much. 

She waved to them as they headed outside the Broadway Theatre doors, and then she was left with Harry. He shyly smiled at her, and Luci hugged the bouquet of flowers tightly to her chest. 

“Uh, would you like to go to the afterparty with me?” She asked. 

Luci watched as Harry considered the invitation in his head. There were two options that he was debating from: go home and have a boring night in, or go to an afterparty with his insanely beautiful neighbor that he was slowly but surely taking a liking to. He realized that wasn’t such a difficult decision after all, so he chose the latter. 

“I’d love to.” 

The entire cast settled into the same lounge that held their very first afterparty. The lounge apparently didn’t mind since everyone contributed to buying lots of alcohol, so they obviously wouldn’t pass up the opportunity of business. 

Luci introduced Harry to the cast who decided to show up, and she was happy that they were very friendly and welcoming to him because the last thing she wanted was awkward tension between her neighbor and coworkers. She wished Nina had gone to the after party because Luci knew that she would get excited about the neighbor she’s crushing on. 

Luci and Harry decided to pace themselves with the drinks as they didn’t take the shots that were given to them at the same time as the rest; instead, they nursed and sipped their drinks. They were towards the end of the circle, in their own world as they talked to one another. Luci was happy they were getting to know each other better, but she figured that was the help and magic of what alcohol did. They told each other childhood stories that made each other laugh, increasing the buzz going on inside their heads. 

Harry had an additional glow to him when he was tipsy, and Luci thought it was the cutest thing ever. He was very touchy—placing a hand on her arm, shoulder, or knee at any given moment—and his laugh was contagious as it was loud and he threw his head back. It was a side that pleasantly took her by surprise, and she hoped that as they continued talking and hanging out, this side of him comes out more when they’re sober and comfortable with one another. 

“Can I ask why your brother calls you Ana?” He wondered, asking at the same time Luci was taking a sip of her drink. 

She nodded. “Yeah. So, Nathan is five years older than I am, and my mom and dad said when he was five, he still had a hard time speaking, like he’d babble and seem to talk gibberish. Anyways, when I was born, my parents were trying to get him to say my name, but couldn’t pick up on the first part of it; he started out with ‘An,’ but eventually picked up ‘Ana.’ And since then, it just seemed to stick—he’s the only one who calls me that and would personally get offended if someone else called me that.” She ended with a chuckle and a sip of her shot. 

“What’s your full name?” 

“Luciana Ivy Suki.” She said slow and a bit sultry, which she hadn’t meant to. The dark light and booze didn’t help that she felt a bit sexy. 

Harry smirked slightly. “Luciana.” He stated as if he was testing how it sounded and felt on the tongue. Luci felt a chill run down her body, making her skin prickle from the goosebumps. 

If she was starting to melt from the sound of her nickname from his lips, the sound of her full name had completely liquified her. 

After an hour, the two moved to the bar, completely forgetting that they were with the cast. Luci suggested getting more drinks for them, and Harry told her that he’d come with. He said something along the lines of “don’t want to miss a moment hanging out with you,” and Luci swore that her heart was becoming a butterfly’s nest as it sank down to her stomach and made her smile. 

“It’s genuinely insane how talented you are, like I was nearly crying by the end of the show!” He complimented, sipping on a Pomegranate Paloma through a thin black straw. Harry was genuinely so amazed as he watched Luci act, alas he was near the rear mezzanine, which was towards the back, he was still blown away by the entire production, especially Luci’s talents. 

“That’s so sweet. Thank you, Harry.” She smiled down at her Royal Manhattan, swirling the drink around in its glass. She was used to taking compliments about her acting and talent, but when Harry complimented her, it made her insides jittery and her face heat up; she felt so honored that Harry was praising her for her talents. 

“Now, can I ask…I thought you had plans tonight. What happened to that?” She wondered. 

Harry blushed, nervously chuckling. “Uh, I canceled them.” 

Her eyes widened. “W-Was it anything serious?” 

“It was a date that my friend, Jeff, set me up with but I wasn’t all that interested in the first place. 

She pouted. “Harry, I feel bad.” 

“Don’t be. I wanted to be here.” She smiled at that, looking at the contents inside of her glass. 

“I’m really glad you’re here.” She reciprocated the thought, clinking her glass with his as they both sipped their drinks. 

After another hour, the cast was lessening one by one, calling it a night as they said their goodbyes to Luci and Harry. She hadn’t realized how quickly time had gone by until the bartender of the lounge had told them that they were closing in a few minutes. Luci looked at her phone as the time read 12:55 a.m., which her and Harry laughed about because they were both in shock about the night being so late already. So, they left the lounge, not before generously tipping the bartender $40 each and gathered their belongings; Luci made sure to not forget the beautiful flowers Harry gave her. 

Neither of them felt like they were sober enough to get on the subway themselves, knowing they would probably get on the wrong one or fall asleep and end up somewhere else. So, they decided on an Uber, seeming as that was the most responsible and safest option there was. 

Luci got inside the black Honda, saying ‘hi’ to their driver. The entire ride back to Brooklyn was quiet, only the soft breaths they both exhaled and the pounding of their hearts. Harry felt himself getting sleepier, and unexpectedly resting his head against Luci’s shoulder. She tensed up at first, not expecting the action, but she welcomed it, placing her head on top of his. They both watched the city through the car window as it disappeared from their sight once they were in Brooklyn. 

Once they were in front of their apartment complex, Harry offered her his arm and she looped her arm through his, leaning into his side as he guided her to the elevator. He leaned against the corner of the elevator with Luci pressed up against his side with her arms still around his, and he looked down to see her eyes closed. He softly smiled, moving the strand of hair that had fallen in the middle of her face to the side. 

The loud Ding! of the elevator seemed to wake Luci up as she startled awake, making Harry chuckle. They walked down the hall and towards their door; Harry occasionally had to tell Luci to keep quiet as she was singing ‘Wannabe’ by the Spice Girls, but Harry couldn’t help but join in. 

When they got to their doors, as usual, they unlocked and opened it; but they didn’t immediately go inside their apartments. Instead, they turned around to face each other; both of their eyes droopy from the slight buzz that was still in their system. 

Luci smiled before leaning in to hug him. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders as his arms went around her waist. The hug was sweet and warm as it definitely fed to the touchy-feely side of their buzz. 

When they pulled away, Luci leaned up to boldly plant a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you for being here, Harry. Shall we hang out next week?” Harry nodded, not trusting his voice to say anything as his heart erupted into flames. She gave him a smile as he was frozen from the chaste kiss; and Luci walked into her apartment, waving at him before she closed the door. 

Harry was out in the hallway, stunned as he blushed from the small kiss she had left on his cheek; and it was something he was going to be dreaming of until he wakes up, only to think about it over and over again. 

Harry was cooking breakfast when he heard relentless knocking on his front door. He peeked his head out from the kitchen to look at the door, like that would tell him who was behind it, as he was whisking some eggs in a white glass bowl. Setting the bowl down, he walked over to the door and opened it. 

To his surprise, Luci was behind it as tears streamed down her face with her phone in her hand; she was in her soft blue pajama pants with a black hoodie over, and despite her recent state, Harry thought she looked absolutely adorable and cuddly. But he pushed that thought to the side; immediately, Harry was concerned. His eyes widened and his protective side turned on, thinking he was going to lose his shit on whoever caused this poor girl to cry. 

“I-I’m sorry. I just…” she hiccupped, and Harry took her into his arms. He was slightly confused about what had happened during the six hours he’d last seen her—when they were coming home from the lounge. He still couldn’t get that kiss out of his head; in fact, it was difficult for him to sleep because he kept reiterating it in his head.

He pulled her into his apartment, closing the door as he sat her down on his brown leather couch. She cried into his shoulder as she passed him her phone that was unlocked on an article. He grabbed it, not letting go of her while he rubbed her arm. 

The article read on the bright screen read: 

Miss Saigon or Miss No-BE GONE! 

Just twelve hours ago, I went to see the show ‘Miss Saigon; for the second time. The first time I went to see it was last month when Broadway star royalty, Ms. Daisy Beck, was playing the role of ‘Kim.’ With its amazing cast, production set, and story-telling, I knew I needed to see the play again. 

My hopes and dreams were crushed when I didn’t see Ms. Beck on stage, but instead, a newbie Broadway actress known as Luciana Suki. Before writing this review, I did some research on her to my very best ability because she’s practically a nobody in this business, and found out that she had been in several commercials since she was a child (great another child actor) and has been on Off-Broadway, which definitely explains the acting! At least give a man a warning before I decide to put up with a shit-show of a performance. I couldn’t even stay for the entire show because it was completely horrifying to see injustice served to Kim and a downgrade from Daisy Beck. 

I tried, I really tried; but I left during intermission. Luciana Suki is not meant to be playing the part of Kim—almost everyone agrees. There was no connection, no emotion to the character, and it was a poorly done job in Luciana’s part and the casting. 

It’s Daisy Beck or no production. Simple as that, or else, the show will lose its audience and precious money that they wasted on paying Luciana Suki. 

Harry sighed, balling his hands up into fists as he locked her phone and set it aside. How could anybody be so cruel? He understood the importance of critics to the theatre, but to outright insult and humiliate someone wasn’t even critical—it’s being straight up rude. 

Once Luci was ready and had somewhat calmed down, she pulled away from Harry’s embrace, looking at him. Poor Luci’s eyes were swollen and her eyes were red from the crying, and she was a sniffling mess. Harry quickly grabbed her a few tissues to dry her tears, and she blew her nose into the soft cotton paper, not really caring how unattractive she thought it was. 

“That article was written by Adam West—the most important critic in Broadway.” She wiped the snot under her nose. “H-He practically just ruined my career and any chances I have on Broadway ever again.” Luci sobbed as it was difficult for her to accept the fact that she may never act ever again because of a senior journalist. Her chest hurt and her eyes started to become sore from the amount of times she squeezed them shut, freeing her tears. 

“No, come here.” Harry’s heart ached for her, and he couldn’t imagine what she must be going through when that article was directly made towards her. He pulled her in for another hug, and she softly cried against his chest, staining his white t-shirt with her tears, but he couldn’t care less. “You’re insanely talented—critics or no critics—no one could deny your talent. What he said was unprofessional and poorly written, and that’s coming from an English major and a teacher. Now, I’m sure that you know you’re extremely gifted and you’ve worked hard to get to where you are. So, don’t let him get to you because almost everyone loved your performance last night.” 

Harry reassured her quite well that Luci had calmed down; it helped that the vibrations from his chest to her ear as he talked had soothed her—it was quite relaxing. She pulled away again, looking at him through glassy eyes as another tear threatened to fall. He placed his palms against her cheeks, taking his thumbs and running it across her skin to wipe her tears away. 

“Would you like some French Toast? Heard it’s a comfort-food, but I may be wrong. Maybe I’m being biased because I think my recipe is good.” He tried lightening up her mood, and it’d definitely worked because she breathed out a chuckle and nodded. 

“I’m not intruding, right?” He shook his head. “No significant other to get mad at me and throw me out?” She slyly asked as she had been wondering if he had someone. Plus, she was still wondering about the red-hair woman who frantically left his apartment. 

“Nope.” 

“The…red-haired girl. You’re not with her?” 

Harry smirked as he definitely indulged into the slightly jealous feeling that Luci was portraying. “No, we’re not dating. She’s just a friend.” He chuckled. “What about you? Someone I should be worried about?” He stirred the topic towards her as curiosity also got the best of him. 

“Nope.” She answered the same way he did. “Do you make out with all of your friends? Noticed her lipstick was a bit smeared off.” Luci knew later on that she would regret opening her mouth and spewing out those particular choice of words. Her tone also seemed a bit jealous, and she had no right to be, but her crush on Harry was quickly increasing. 

“I mean, some of them; when the time comes.” He somewhat joked. 

“Would you make out with me?” Luci spat out, but quickly slapped her palm against her mouth, eyes widening. Her mind was speaking for herself as she’d been dreaming of the way Harry’s pink lips felt against her mouth and other places she wouldn’t dare speak aloud. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why-”

“Yeah, I would,” he responded honestly. This was the most honest and straight-forward he’d ever been, which only occurs every few months, so it was time to close that window again and wait for it to open. But he also couldn’t deny his attraction to her, like it was difficult to not be so enticed with her. He felt at complete ease with her, and it felt incredibly easy to talk to Luci and be open. “So, the French Toast?” He changed the subject, walking over to the kitchen, leaving Luci glued to her seat on the couch. 

Astonished by his words, she was extra shocked that he was so quick to move on from his response. But she was glad to know that he would want to kiss her, maybe, some time in the future; but the thought made her giddy because she undeniably wanted to kiss him too.

come talk to me about your favorite moments and scenes, and your thoughts and feelings! thank you for reading <3 next chapter will be posted next saturday! 

[yelenasdog]

romance and espionage (eggsy unwin x fem reader)

genre: fluff w/ whole lotta angst

summary: who knew names could be such a touchy subject?

words: 2.4k

warnings: literally saying fuck everyother sentence, kissing, golden circle spoilers (is that a thing? idk), mentions of harry’s supposed death, mentions of roxy’s death, guns, and i think thats it.

ok, all my cm moots don’t judge me. 

a/n: ight so uhh as i’m posting this i’m finding out taron is an incel so that’s kinda oW but uhh i haven’t seen the secret service, i just rewatched the golden circle the other night and hyperfixated on taron so... uh here’s this LMAO. also! this takes place after the golden circle, and reader took roxy’s spot as lancelot. ok enjoy!!

♔♂♔

“God, Eggsy, would you quiet down?!”

He snarled meanly in a way that could make Bennie and Jet’s metallic forms cower in fear, his thin lips turning into a grimace.

“Don't call me that here. It’s Galahad, and Galahad only.”

The other agent only scoffed, rolling her eyes.

Lancelot’s surroundings were dark, although quite stunning nonetheless. It was clear and starry night sky, perfect for romance, the worst for espionage. The air felt so refreshing on her skin, allowing her to feel free in some way, even just for a moment, which she savoured, as a feeling such as that was rare in her line of work.

Now, if the girl had been with someone other than the annoying, prickish, and (even though it pained her to the highest degree to say it) handsome fellow, she maybe would have tried to have a little fun to pass the time. Maybe fool around a bit, fraternize with a coworker, eh?

But alas, ever the one with amazing luck, she was stuck with him. 

Which meant rather than perhaps getting crescent shaped markings on her hips from a quick rondevu under the indigo sky and sparkling stars, so roughly placed to match the moon that hung in it, she was crouching uncomfortably, only wishing that the former scenario was taking place.

 Not that she meant with fucking Eggsy, of course.

Well ok, maybe, just a tad.

“Fine, have it your way, Galahad.” She flailed her arms about in a jazz hand motion, making the blondy roll his twinkly eyes in a boyish manner. She fought the urge to grin widely, a warm feeling blooming in her chest, even at his obvious arrogance and upset towards her.

She wanted to blame his feelings towards her on her being a freshmen agent, recruited right after the convergence of Kingsman and Statesman in an effort to rebuild the organization. She had been childhood friends with Roxy, who had long ago tried to get Y/n to join the agency. When faced with her friend’s death, she wanted to honor her wishes, even if this wish was a little, well, extreme.

He only sighed in response to Y/n, tapping the side of his thick rimmed glasses twice.

Y/n’s eyes followed his hands as he did so, enjoying what she was seeing a great amount. She bit her bottom lip subconsciously, losing all focus that was there to begin with.

“Lancelot? Lancelot? For fucks sake, Y/n!”

She snapped her head up, her eyes becoming magnified even further through the faux tortoise shell glasses that Unwin would never admit framed her face wonderfully.

No, not a chance.

He wouldn’t dare even let the thought about how the soft skin of her freckled nose looked even more kissable, her eyes even more full of depth and wonder, or how kind and sweet she looked when she tucked a stray strand of hair away from her face. All because of the damned glasses. Never.

So rather, he settled for pointing over to where the subject of their stakeout was now standing, gun in hand as he conversed with one of his comrades.

But although her body followed his, listening to his directions, most of the information was going in one ear out the other, her brilliant mind occupied by a certain agent and his endeavors.

She was hard in thought, wondering about names of all things. A simple subject, easy to address, you would think. But apparently it was not so, not at all.

You see, Eggsy never had called Y/n by her name. It was always either “Lancelot”, or “Agent”, Y/n only being used for the exception of if he needed to quickly grab her attention.

And on the flip side, she was never allowed to call him anything other than Galahad. Agent was sparse, it put her on very thin ice, close to splitting at any second with no prior notice.

Now obviously, with Y/n being Y/n, she was determined to crack his rough exterior, despite however much he presented himself as “unbreakable��. (His words, not hers.) So, much to his displeasure, she often called out a quick “Oi, Unwin!”, or a “Jesus, Eggsy!” whenever he got in her way, which usually resulted in a similar distasteful glance to what she was recieving now being shot in her direction.

“Alright, Eggsy, I’m thinking that his partner is-“ She used her glasses X-Ray feature, confirming her suspicions. “The partner is in the abandoned pharmacy across the street, should we wait or go now?” He was silent, staring straight ahead, scrutinizing nothing in particular with a stare that was set in stone. 

She whistled lowly, waving a hand in front of his face.

“Eggsyyy-“

“Lancelot, would you shut the hell up! Don’t fucking call me that!” He stood up, leaving a vulnerable feeling Y/n in his wake.

Y/n’s jaw was suddenly like it was wired shut. She was paralyzed, unable to speak, only keeping her gaze fixated on Galahad.

“Look, I’m sorry-“

“Yeah, well good, then! When will you ever learn, we’re not friends, nor will we ever be. Get it through you’re fuckin’ head. It’s like you think you’re Roxy or some shit-“

Sadness and guilt turned to anger rather quickly for Y/n at his unfortunate choice of words.

“Stop it! Would you please, just stop it! For fucks sake!” Her voice was harsh, something he never would had never expected out of Y/n. Tears sprung into her eyes, and her teeth sunk into her bottom lip, no doubt drawing crimson liquid in the process. She tasted iron on her tongue, feeling it seep into her taste buds.

“Lancelo-“

“Fucking hell, shut the fuck up! Really, please, Galahad, listen to me, for once in your life.” She was the one who shot up, inching closer to him with every word. The sticks and leaves crunched under her feet, causing her to cringe at the sound, hoping it didn’t alert the targets.

He nodded solemnly, his jaw locking up, and his hands she had been admiring only seconds before clamped into fists at his sides.

She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself, Harry’s words of “remember your training” ringing through her head. She internally began chanting it like a mantra of sorts.

But if she was being honest, she couldn't quite remember a chapter in the Kingsman handbook (that she most definitely did read during training) that talked about emotional distress due to your coworker who you’re extremely attracted to calling you only by your dead best friend's name, but hey, who knows.

“I know I'm not Roxy. Nobody else could ever be Roxy. I know that, you know that, hell, she knew that. And I would say that you have no idea how it feels to be reminded of one of your closest friends who is dead every time someone calls you by a name that feels as if it isn’t your own, but you do, Galahad. Or you did. But now Harry is back and- and Roxy, well Roxy is gone!”

A single tear slipped out of her left eye. The agent in front of her felt a strong urge wipe away the tears he now felt guilty for playing a large part in. But he resisted, his hands remaining stuck to his side.

“So why would you do this? Say these things, act this way, when you know I have to live every day with you for some reason calling me Lancelot in every situation and me having to call you Galahad all the same! Maybe I shouldn’t have stepped up to be Lancelot when Roxy was killed, if I can’t handle it, can’t handle the dehumanization that comes with only being known as an emotionless fuckin’ agent to you.” 

She stopped, hanging her head. She looked over to the flickering neon lights of the pharmacy, watching the outlines of the targets move around.

“I honestly have no idea if any of that made sense, or if I’m just rambling, I don’t fucking have the slightest idea what the fuck I’m even doing anymore.” Her voice got significantly more quiet, her sentences reduced to mumbles.

Aside from the target and his partners yelling at each other, it was so silent you could hear a pin drop.

His usually stern tone he took with the girl was softer now as he spoke, “You made perfect sense.”

She gave him a half smile before continuing, feeling oddly validated by his words. 

“But what I’m trying to say, Galahad, is that I’m a fucking human being. I have a life outside of this Godforsaken job, and-and emotions, too! I mean, I might even have kids that you don’t know about!”

He internally rolled his eyes, yet again fighting another urge, this time to smile widely at Y/n. Weird.

“Do you have kids I don’t know about-“

“Of course I don’t!”

They shared a short laugh as their words overlapped, harmonizing in a sweet way, their voices like thick and golden honey. Weird.

The two were then succumbed to a blanket of comfortable silence, but only for a short moment before the hushed whispers of Unwin’s voice were heard.

“D’you wanna know why?”

Y/n cocked her head, beckoning him to go on with whatever it was he was going to say. “Why what?”

“Why I only call you Lancelot, why I don’t let you call me Eggsy.”

She nodded, sitting down once more and tucking her leg under her chin in a manner that Eggsy found endearing and adorable. It distracted him slightly, but not long enough for his starry eyed staring to become creepy. Not that Y/n would have it in her capacity to ever think that of him, if she was being honest.

“If I start to think of you as ‘Y/n’, rather than Lancelot things get too real. If you hurt, o-or if you get kidnapped, or God forbid- die.” He momentarily paused, looking up to meet Y/n’s eyes.

“It would make it all too real. I can’t do that, Y/n. After what happened to Harry and then Roxy, and everyone else,” he shook his head, his expression showing him close to crying at the thought of what he was speaking of.

“I can’t lose you too.”

It was like her soul had become visibly lighter, feeling an unimaginable relief flood throughout her system at his proclamation. She was able to come down from her, so to say, “high” almost as soon as she had started it, placing her hands on his, using them as leverage to pull herself up.

“You can’t be so afraid, Galahad. You gotta, you know,” she shrugged, offering him a small smile.

“Live a little.” She moved to look down to meet his eyes where his head was suspended in shame, forcing him to look back up.

“And also, try not to let your fear turn you into a dick, which is by all means just a suggestion.” Y/n laughed at the last bit, smiling and glancing to the side slightly.

They both shared a second laugh together, and it seemed as if for a short while, time stopped. It was just the two of them, features illuminated by the pale moonlight. No target, no saving the world, nothing. Just them. 

So he reached forward, unsure if what he was doing was the right thing, just like always. The damn question of righteousness was engrained in his brain, restricting him like it did majority of the time. But for once, he decided to disregard it in it’s entirety.

So throwing all caution to the wind, unable to contain himself any longer, he closed the small gap left between the two, connecting their lips in a long awaited kiss.

One of his hands flew to the side of her face, the other wrapping around her waist, pulling her closer with a squeal. He laughed into the union, and she only smiled. One of her hands went to entangle itself with his on her waist, the other resting on his shoulder.

She could smell his cologne that he most definitely should not have been wearing per Kingsman on the job regulations, and welcomed the scent, doing her best to commit it to memory, a permanent reminder of what it felt like to be so close to the man.

After what seemed like a long time (but never long enough, honestly) they pulled away, panting for breath. Their foreheads rested on each other’s, the cool night air flowing around them, calming the pair completely.

Still struggling to catch his breath, Eggsy reached forward, taking both of her hands. He ran small circles over her knuckles in a way that made her heart flutter, before dropping them gently, reaching a hand out.

“Let's start over.”

She giggled and widely grinned, and he swore it was becoming his favorite thing in existence when she would do either of those wondrous things.

“Come on, put her there.” He shook his hand slightly making a silly face as well, widening his eyes and looking back and forth from his hand and her face. She placed it in his, proudly smirking as she did so. Their shiny rings clanged, which resulted in another small giggle errupting from her throat.

 He shook it back and forth, a sly smile painting itself on his lips. 

“Pleasure to meet you, Eggsy Unwin.”

She quirked an eyebrow, retracting her hand momentarily, letting it linger in the air.

“Eggsy, hmm? Bit of an odd name, don’t you think?”

He scoffed, placing his hand over his heart in false offense.

“Well if it’s so bad, what’s yours then?”

“Y/n Y/l/n.”

He looked to his feet momentarily, lifting his hands on either side of his head. “I digress, you win.”

She bit her bottom lip again, wincing as she hit the same spot from before. She ran her tongue over it, breathing out quickly.

“I’m not so sure. I think Eggsy is growing on me.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah.”

They smiled at each other like lovesick teenagers, still lost within the moment.

And although the bubble of ignorant bliss they were in was something the two of them never wanted to leave, it was sadly inevitable that it would be popped at some point in time.

And almost like an alarm to wake them up from a beautiful dream, gunfire was able to be heard ringing throughout the building across the way.

They pulled apart with a groan coming from Y/n, and a “For fucks sake” from Eggsy. With displeasure lacing their expressions, they began to run towards the pharmacy when Y/n felt a hand tug at her wrist.

“Y/n wait!”

Her eyes widened as she looked at him as if he was a mad man, only slowing to a backwards jog. She gestured around her to the burst of red and orange explosions that were now going off around her, screaming “What?!”

He sprinted to catch up with her forcing her to come to a complete stop with a firm hold on her shoulders.

“Eggsy, come on! Lets go- Ah!”

He cut her off with a firm kiss, gripping the sides of her head, scrunching his fingers in her hair. She let a small moan slip out at the feeling, which he responded to by chuckling. He then pulled away, a shit eating grin written on his face. 

She stood in shock, unable to move from her place. He started running, turning over his shoulder.

“Come on, Y/n, keep up!”

Not focusing on where he was going, he tripped over himself, letting out a small yell of surprise. Y/n laughed loudly, going to chase after him with a miniscule shake of her head at his antics.

But nonetheless, the only thing going through Y/n’s mind during that situation that should have been horrifying, was that maybe she was wrong all this time.

Romance and espionage did go well together, especially when it was with Y/n and Eggsy.

♔♂♔

hello!!! so this was a multi-fandom account to begin with anyways so honestly i feel like i should start a seperate masterlist for “hj’s hyperfixations”. but yah this was my first fic for him and idk if i’ll do another but i hope u enjoyed this! also it’s my bday tomorrow (sept 7th) so this is a self indulgent fic. as a treat. ok love u bye!

xx hj

also avery asked me to tag her so @spideyspencer​ LMAO i’m so sorry for this mess.

[byunsboyz]

Jamais Vu - Part One

Exo Fanfiction

Baekhyun x Female Reader

Warnings: some light swears.

Genre: Fluff/Angst?

W/C: 2560

Part Two Part Three

_____________________________________________________________

Everybody has that ‘what if’. The one who got away....not quite regret, but thoughts that would drift by late at night when insomnia has set in and you’re deep into your latest existential crisis.

What if things had been different? What if you had said what had been on the tip of your tongue that day?

Byun Baekhyun was your what if. 

He had been your best friend in college and the only person you had truly loved.

You had no reason to run into Byun Baekhyun. You didn’t share classes. You an Accounting major and him Architecture. 

You didn’t run in the same social circles, he was part of a frat house and you opted to remain in dorms with your small group of friends. 

But what had brought you together was music, meeting in your second year while working at the campus radio station.

You had applied for the role of Production Director on a whim, looking for a hobby outside of classes and studying and also benefited from the extra credit of managing the finances of the small college club. 

The first time you met you were positive you’d never understand him. After all, you were complete opposites. He was loud and outgoing; always the centre of jokes and a far cry the quiet loner you were perceived to be. 

But from the first show you ran with him, he has surprised you. Baekhyun was the On-Air Presenter for the Sunday night Jazz & Blues segment and as soon as the light would turn red he’d take on a completely different persona.

His voice would become soft and melodic as he’d whisper sweet nothings into the microphone about the classics of Miles Davies and Frank Sinatra. 

You’d often be on the same late-night shift together; downing coffee after coffee, discussing your favourite artists and organising records until the early hours.

He wasn’t exhausting like the rest of your extroverted friends, his presence giving you a warm sense of comfort. 

Without noticing you became joined at the hip for the rest of your college days. 

Not to the point that you were a regular at his crazy frat parties but you’d hang out at the radio station, would marathon movie after movie at each other’s dorms on the weekends and crammed for all your major test’s together. 

You hadn’t even realised you were in love with him until you’d just graduated, you even had the crazy idea to confess.

Then the news broke that he was moving to a different country.

He had been in two minds on whether to go. You’d always talked about living and working in the same city and he’d been concerned about you being alone and him going back on his promise.

Honestly. Who achieves their dream job at a globally famous architecture firm and worries about their dumb friend during the happiest moment of their life?!

You remembered that day vividly.

‘“Of course you should go! It’s your dream, Baek” you forced the enthusiasm into your voice.

Inside, you could feel your heart tearing at the seams. You weren’t selfish enough to show him just how much you would miss him, as much as you had wanted to.

He was always too considerate of your feelings. 

This wasn’t some Rom-Com TV show, where Baekhyun would suddenly declare he couldn’t live without you. He wasn’t like Rachel choosing not to get on the plan for Ross.

You’d cried so hard the night he’d left. Almost texting the words you’d be aching to tell him for the last three years. 

‘I am in love with you’. 

But the alcohol had knocked you out before you could hit send.

He’d promised to keep in touch but over the years you drifted. As life and work became more and more hectic it devolved from video chatting on the weekends, to texting occasionally. 

Fading into receiving a generic happy birthday post on social media and then nothing at all.

You’d pushed him to the back of your mind as you told yourself over and over that this is what happens as you get older. 

And with that ten years had passed.

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

You wake with a start. Back aching from where you’d fallen asleep in an awkward position while watching a random ASMR video the night prior.

*Clatter*  

Your sleep-filled eyes search the room, trying to locate the source of the noise. 

*Thud Thud Thud*

It appears to be coming through the wall behind your headboard.

Could someone be moving into the apartment next door? It’s been entirely empty the whole time you’ve been living here, about seven months now.

You've enjoyed the quiet solace of not having to share the walls with another person. Especially being one of the only two apartments on the upper floor, it was one of the reasons you love your apartment.

It’s also located near the subway and tucked far back enough on the outskirts of the city that it’s almost peaceful. There’s also a small cafe bar and a couple of small stores that remind you of the town where you grew up.

*Bang*

You groan again at the loud noises as you stretch your arms over your head and wonder about the people moving in next door.

Maybe a couple? Or a young family. It could even be a cute guy. You snort at the thought. Yeah right. What kind of a psycho moves into an apartment in the early morning anyway?!

You reach under your pillow for your phone to check the time. 8:30 am! SHIT. You overslept and if you don’t leave your apartment in the next ten minutes you’ll miss your train to work!

With no time for a shower, you rush to your bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth.

As you drag a brush through your hair and pull it up into a simple, neat ponytail you start forming a contingency plan…

‘Skip the usual to-go coffee at Dunkin’ and settle for the instant stuff at work’ you think to yourself, ‘As soon as I get to work, throw on some BB cream and mascara with the time I’ll gain abandoning my daily vanilla latte with coconut milk…’.

You sniff sadly at the thought as you step into one of your tailored dresses, fumbling with the awkward zipper in the back.

Within 10 minutes you’re flying out the door and straight into the elevator. Using the short amount of time to button up your sweater and glance through your bag to check that you’ve got everything you’ll need for the day.

You’re in your own thoughts as you stride towards the lobby doors, and almost walk straight into your building manager.

“Oh! Good morning, Mr Sato!” you gasp in surprise.

“Good morning!” he smiles obliviously, not realising that you almost knocked him flying. You move to step around him as he continues. “There’s a package of yours with Ralph” (the doorman) “and I also wanted to let you know about a new tenant moving into the place next to yours...”

“Uh-huh,  of course, that’s great!” You cut him off, waving your hands apologetically “I am so sorry. Please excuse me, I’m late for work!” you call out behind you as you make a mad dash out of the building to the subway station.

You make your train by the skin of your teeth, panting from the final sprint from the ticket gate to the platform. Feeling glad you skipped the makeup as you would have surely sweat a good portion of it off by now.

You currently work for a large accountancy firm Kim & Partners. You could have worked within a finance department of any company as most qualified accountants tend to do but you love the challenges and variety of working with different industries and clients every day.

You manage a small team of four and specialise in bookkeeping for small to medium enterprise, one of the smaller departments in the company but you have a pretty large client base and enjoy the satisfaction of helping others and providing a clear and efficient service.

“We are transferring you to manage corporate accounts,” your boss Mr Kim announces in the morning management meeting. You feel like someones just pulled a step from beneath your footing.

You were aware that your manager Mr Choi had wanted to transfer you out to provide more specialised management accountancy for larger corporate clients but so far you’d been convincing enough from the commission and reputation you’ve built for Kim & Partners to be able to continue as you were.

“Uh, thank you for the opportunity, Mr Kim, I-” you begin shakily, looking for the words or a reason to decline the transfer.

“Fantastic! You’ll handover to Jaehyun for the rest of today and you’ll start in corporate accounting tomorrow!” your boss claps his hands together enthusiastically and with that you chicken out of any further protest and nod your head.

Jaehyun is your second in command and honestly, he really deserves this promotion. You couldn’t think of someone more diligent and detail-oriented.

The rest of your day is uneventful. The handover goes incredibly smoothly despite a very surprised Jaehyun but the more things are explained, the more you realise that this progression will be good for everyone.

You’ll still oversee Jaehyun and his team but allow him more room to make decisions and develop while you work on the larger corporate accounts that keep your company in business.

There was even a hint at the opportunity to become a junior partner, which by your calculations would make you one of the youngest in the company.

You leave work feeling excited, passing up on celebratory drinks with your (old) team so that they can have more fun without their boss present.

“COME ONNNN” Hani, your junior accounts clerk had whined when you announced that you wouldn't be joining “You’re not a regular boss, you’re a COOL boss!”.

You appreciate the sentiment but everyone likes to complain about work and management when they drink and you wouldn't like to take that away from them.

You sit on the train heading back to your apartment feeling optimistic, texting your best friend Aria about the day and making plans for your own celebratory drinks.

You’re walking through the lobby of your apartment building, heading towards Ralph’s desk to collect the package Mr Sato mentioned this morning. Probably the new nutribullet you’d ordered while drunk Amazon shopping a couple of weeks back.

Normally you’d cancel the delivery but drunk you was really onto something this time. You giggle at a dumb vine quote Aria sends you and as you finish typing up your response-

 THWACK! You hit a wall, falling ungracefully backwards onto your butt.

You grunt as the air gets knocked out of you when you make contact with rough carpet of the lobby.

“Seriously!” another voice snaps you back to reality as you realise you didn’t walk into a wall but another person.

 A now very annoyed person, carrying what you assume was their groceries as you glance over at the produce and cans rolling around on the floor between you.

“I- oh my gosh, I am so sorry!” you stammer as you scramble to your knees and start frantically picking up some of the items in front of you. A can of beans, a bag of pasta and a lone orange trying to make its escape. 

“I wasn’t even looking, I promise I’ll pay for anything dama-”, You begin as you look up, expecting to see Mr Sato or one of the other tenants of the building.

The rest of your sentence dies in the back of your throat.

“Baekhyun?...”

His name leaves your lips as a whisper, heart thumping against your chest as you almost drop the items in your hands.

He’s not looking in your direction, you hear him grumble something under his breath that you can’t quite make out as he scoops the remainder of his groceries into a battered paper bag.

Is it really him? Did you hit your head and you’re actually unconscious and hallucinating about a guy you used to know and haven’t seen in ten years?

It sure looks like him. A few extra lines crease his forehead, his hair is a darker shade of chocolate than you remember with a few flecks of silver glinting at the centre of his parting.

You glance to his left hand searching for the mole that sits beneath his thumbnail but it’s not there. Maybe it was on his right hand?

He finally looks up as if finally registering that you’re kneeling on the floor next to him, his lips part slightly in surprise as he looks you over. A tiny mole sits just above the corner of his upper lip. It really is him!

Before your mind has time to catch up you’re throwing your arms around him, allowing your excitement to overtake all of your other senses. You feel him instantly tense up.

“H-hey!” he shouts, pushing you off him abruptly. “What the hell are you doing!”

You shoot to your feet, shaken by the sharpness of his tone you take a step back to create some space. Your throat feels dry all of a sudden. His eyes look you over but there’s no familiarity in them, they’re so cold you almost shiver.

He takes a step towards you, “How do you know my name?” his tone sharp and accusing, “Are you some kind of stalker?”.

Your cheeks start to burn as the realisation set’s in that Baekhyun has no idea who you are. You struggle to swallow the lump forming in your throat as you search for a response. Words seem to fail you right now.

“Y/N, is everything alright?” you hear the worried voice of Mr Sato, by the time you remember to blink he’s already standing between the two of you. You look up at him, dumbstruck as you fight back the sharp prickles in the corner of your eyes.

He looks back and forth between you and Baekhyun, trying to piece together what has taken place. You realise you’re still holding Baekhyun’s groceries, practically hugging the bag of pasta to your chest and your cheeks burn even hotter. 

You hear your name spoken again but it’s not Mr Sato’s voice this time, and you don’t have the nerve to look at Baekhyun again.

So you do the only thing you can think of and thrust the items you're holding at Mr Sato. Run as fast as you can to the stairwell, and find the nearest hole to jump into, aka your apartment.

Your knees ache as you force yourself up each flight. You can’t even remember the last time you used the stairwell and when you finally reach the threshold of your apartment you collapse against the door.

What on earth were you thinking?

What gave you the right to assume anyone would recognise you after ten years?

What was he even doing here? As that final thought crosses your mind someone knocks at your door.

You jump at the abrupt noise, chest still tight from the anxiety (or the running). But there’s no way you’re answering the door.

Your legs still feel like jelly and you really fear that Mr Sato has come to scold you or worse Baekhyun has followed you.

But he wouldn’t know which apartment you lived in. Would he?

You pull yourself to your feet and glance through the peephole.

You watch as Baekhyun turns away from your front door and disappears towards the next apartment.

No way.

*Slam*

Shit.

[elizabeethan]

My Hands, Your Hands

Chapter 1 / 2

Part 2

After being cheated on by her boyfriend, Emma Nolan moves in with her older brother David and his two stupid roommates, Will and Killian. After a night of drinking games and plenty of rum, Emma lands on the one rule that she'd rather avoid: "The Iron Curtain- player to your left."

Modern Captain Swan AU based on the New Girl episode where Nick and Jess go behind the Iron Curtain

Read on AO3

Killian got a new leather jacket in the mail and wouldn’t take it off. Like, he would not take it off. He keeps walking around in it saying stupid things like, “it really makes my hips pop,” and “I know it’s black, but it’s, like, a different kind of black. It brings out my eyes.” Emma is seriously about to lose it.  What makes matters worse is the fact that David and Will aren’t trying to stop him from acting as stupid as he is. They’re amping him up because they want to go out tonight, and it’s very un-fun going out with Killian when he’s down in the dumps about Milah. Still.

           Milah broke up with Killian months before Emma moved in. She had been cheated on by her long-term boyfriend Neal and needed a new place, and the only place with a room available happened to be her older brother’s loft, which happened to be filled with three grown men who act like children. Killian apparently took his breakup pretty hard, although she doubts he was as openly and embarrassingly emotional as she was. According to David, Milah was the one who got away. Evidently, she loved Kilian, but had to let him go. Her words, not Emma’s. Also evident was the fact that she very quickly moved into another’s man’s apartment after dumping his ass.

           So, while Emma had managed to get over Neal, she thinks rather successfully, Killian was still nursing that post-breakup hangover and hadn’t been out with the guys in several months. David usually doesn’t go out drinking, Emma assumes because he is in a long-term, committed relationship, so this is apparently momentous. Will is very excited to get out and get laid as he so eloquently put it. And now, with Killian’s new-found confidence thanks to a leather duster, he plans on getting laid as well.

           She has to admit, despite how obnoxious and childish he’s being, the black leather does work very well on him. His fair skin and dark hair compliment it, his muscular shoulders fit inside perfectly, and his ocean blue eyes truly do stand out.

           She immediately shakes that thought out of her head.

           Emma plans to stay home alone tonight; her current fling Walsh is working, and her best friend Ruby has a date. She could try and call Mary Margaret, David’s aforementioned girlfriend, but the two of them are more… daytime friends. Meaning, they get along great when they're doing adult things like having brunch or decorating the loft, but when it comes to Emma’s more childish side (read: drinking in excess) she sometimes feels as though Mary Margaret disapproves. Almost as if she’s the mom friend, but in a way that makes Emma feel like she could actually be her mother. This could be because she’s dating Emma’s older brother, or it could be because Mary Margaret has basically the purest soul of anyone Emma has ever met. Perhaps a combination of both.

           Honestly, Emma would totally go out with the guys tonight. But apparently that wouldn’t work in their favor.

           “I’m so down,” Emma exclaimed when Will announced their plans, jumping off the counter and imagining what outfit she would wear. She hasn’t been out in weeks and it wouldn’t kill her to act like a single lady for a night.

           “No way.” Killian practically jumped out of his own seat and stood directly in front of her, blocking her way to her bedroom. “You can’t come. I actually want to get laid tonight. You’d just get in the way.”

           “Excuse me!”

           “You would! Do you know how difficult it would be to get a woman to come home with me with you present? There’s no way you’re coming,” Killian says, rather rudely.

           “He’s right, Emma. It’d just make it harder for us guys if a lady was there,” Will added, shrugging and making the most insincerely apologetic face.

           “Maybe I can call Mary Margaret and see if she wants to hang out with you tonight?”

           So now she’s stuck at home. Emma spent the rest of the evening glaring at Killian before they left. She could also place equal blame on Will and David, but Killian is easier to glare at. Each time she looks over at him and narrowed her eyes, he shoots her a stupid, cocky grin and waggles his eyebrows.

           “Don’t wait up for us, Swan. Although, it may be difficult to sleep by the time we get home. We are right across the hall from one another, so if you think me and my lady friend are being too loud, well… just try and block it out.” Everything that Killian says to her is a joke, but that doesn’t make her glare any softer.

           “Shut up, Jones. You’d be lucky to get anyone to come home with you. Women will take one look at your stupid jacket and run for the hills,” she scoffs, pinching the fabric at his collar and dismissively flicking it away from her.

           “You said you liked my jacket!” His eyes grow twice their normal size and he feigns hurt, placing his right hand over his heart and gasping.

           “Just tell me you’re not actually going to wear it out tonight. It’s so long and flowy I feel like I could’ve worn it to prom.”

           “I’m sure it would look wonderful on you, love. But I think it will look better on my bedroom floor,” he says, another waggle in his thick brows. Emma glowers and groans.

           “You’re so stupid! Who says that?”

           “Oh, you love my sense of humor, Swan, don’t try and fight it,” he says in a low voice, leaning in closer to her and looking at her through his long lashes.

           “I’ve told you so many times to stop calling me that.” Emma rolls her eyes and turns around towards her bedroom, but his hand catches the crook of her elbow.

           “It’s funny. That’s one of the best things I’ve ever seen. Why wouldn’t you want me to continuously memorialize it?”

           “It’s not funny! I was attacked!”

           Killian chuckles and let’s go of her arm, a soft smile now decorating his face. “You’ll be alright here tonight, aye Swan? I didn’t mean to make you feel unwelcome.”

           Emma rolls her eyes again as she walks into her bedroom and Killian follows. “Yes, you did. And it’s fine, I get it. Wouldn’t want anyone to get in the way of Killian Jones’s great conquest,” she says sarcastically, waving jazz hands in front of his eyes.

           It was Killian’s turn to roll his eyes now, blue disappearing behind his lids as he scoffs and smirks. He shakes his head leaves his place in her threshold.

~~~

           Emma didn’t always like Killian. Okay, she doesn’t really like him that much now, but when she first moved in, she couldn’t stand him. He was completely cocky, which David explained was a symptom of his difficult breakup. Apparently, it was arduous for him to get over the love of his life without acting like an asshole. Emma’s not sure what Will’s excuse was; the youngest of the three, he seems to get into the most trouble. David’s the oldest of the group, and also the most mature. He takes on a caretaking role rather effortlessly, just as he always has with Emma.

           As she sits at home alone, she becomes so desperately bored that she considers organizing her closet. However, knowing that that would never happen, she chooses to put on a scary movie and make some popcorn.

           When it ends, she decides to call Walsh while she thinks he’s on his break. Lately, even though they’ve only been seeing each other casually for about a month, she’s been feeling as if he expects much more from her than she’s willing to give. It seems as if he wants a committed relationship, although he hasn’t come out and said it, and she’s been feeling pressure to act more like a girlfriend.

Of course, it’s only natural that the hot water pipes should clang loudly in this moment, causing her to scream and throw what’s left of her popcorn right as she finishes up her voicemail.  

           “Swan,” she hears from outside the door. “Swan?” Killian swings the door open with fervor; his brows twisted into a concerned arch. David and Will were behind him, along with one of the most beautiful women Emma has ever seen. She offhandedly wonders who she decided to go home with.

           “Hi,” she replies, reaching down to pick up some of the popcorn that went flying around her. “How was your night?”

           “It was great, Emma. I’d like you to meet Sabine,” Will cuts in and gestures towards the woman with a cheeky grin on his face. “Sabine, this is my totally platonic roommate, Emma.”

           “Nice to meet you,” Sabine says with a small wave and an oddly flirty smile. “This is a great place you guys have.”

           “Yeah, thanks.”

           “Killian tells me you created a great drinking game, and the vibe at the bar was totally off, so we thought we’d check it out. Mind if we play?” Emma finds it interesting that Will seems to think he brought Sabine home, but Sabine appears to be all over Killian. Killian starts towards Emma now, and miraculously takes off his stupid jacket before sitting on the arm of the chair she’s in, smirking. The asshole.

           “Sure, that’s fine. Everyone needs a drink and we need to find the dice and board though,” she turns her attention to Will. If he thinks she’s helping set this up, he’s got another thing coming. “I’ll take a rum and coke.”

           Killian’s looking down at her still, so she looks back at him and glares once again. “Can I help you with something?”

           “Aye,” he says softly, reaching his right hand towards her face. She thinks she almost feels her lashes fluttering at his soft touch, until she feels a slight pull of a few strands of hair at the top of her head.

           “Ow, what the hell?”

           “More popcorn, love. How’d that get there?” She rolls her eyes (yes, again), and takes the kernel from his hand, tempted to throw it at him.

           “I don’t know. Maybe I was saving it for later, and now you’ve just ruined my midnight snack.” Killian laughs- actually throws his head back and laughs, before raising his right arm over her shoulders and sliding himself into the chair she’s in, effectively squishing the both of them.

           “Again, what the hell,” she asks, her tone incredulous and hostile.

           “Not enough seats, love. Ruby’s on her way.”

           “How would you know that? And why wouldn’t I just share a seat with Ruby?”

           “We text from time to time, mostly about you,” he says, his brows switching places as he raises one and lowers the other.

           “Shup up, you idiot,” she says with an eye roll. Pretty soon, they’re going to get stuck up there. At least, she thinks that’s what Mary Margaret would tell her. Killian chuckles deeply in response and she thinks she feels him squeezing his arm tighter around her shoulder. She knows he put it there to annoy her, but she doesn’t particularly mind, what with her irrational scare a few minutes before. “So, what the hell are you doing home this early?”

           “It’s like Sabine said, Swan, the vibe at the bar was totally off,” he says sarcastically, clearly poking fun at Will’s new friend.

           “So off that you couldn’t get anyone to come home with you? With that jacket?” Emma feigns shock, putting her hands to her cheeks and raising her brows, painting herself with a concerned expression. “Sabine seems to think you guys make a great match.”

           “Wasn’t really interested, I suppose. She’s better suited for Will.”

           “Please,” she scoffs, “she’s hot as hell, and earlier you literally said, and I quote, ‘I actually want to get laid tonight.’” Her take on his accent is truly terrible.

           His response is minimal, simply a shrug of his right shoulder as he works his way out of the chair that he wedged the two of them into. “You know you aren’t getting that drink from Will. You want a lime?” She nods, looking at him incredulously. They’ve lived together for nine months and he still acts like he doesn’t know what she drinks. It’s not as if they don’t drink together nearly every weekend.

~~~

           The game started only once everyone finally got their shit together. It’s true, Emma did create an awesome drinking game. A poster board and Mary Margaret’s artistic abilities quickly allowed for the creation of a game somewhere in between Candy Land and Monopoly. Okay, not really, but the concept is similar. Emma’s game states that the player roles a die and moves their game piece the appropriate number of spaces, then completes the task in the square they land on. Many of the tasks are drinking related. The game was created while they were all drunk.

           Emma roles the die and moves five spaces, commanded to drink because she’s from out of state. Killian must drink as well, and so must Sabine. Killian roles next and drinks because he doesn’t have brown eyes. Emma and David drink here too. At some point, Ruby does show up and complains about her date with the doctor named Whale. Emma thinks that anyone named after an animal cannot be trusted. Then she stops herself, remembering the stupid name Killian gave her.

           The game goes on for many rounds, and each of them get drunker with each role of the die. Eventually, Sabine lands on Never Have I Ever, and the loser must finish their drink, while everyone also takes a sip for each finger they put down. Emma, Ruby, and David all have one finger left, and it’s Killian’s turn to call a rule. He stares her dead in the face and smirks, one brow raised higher than she even thought was possible.

           “Alright, never have I ever…” he pauses, moving his right hand up to pinch his bottom lip and jut his jaw forward, his tongue running along his lip. Fuck, Emma thinks. I must be drunk. “Never have I ever been attacked in a park by the local wildlife.”

           Emma freezes and glares in his direction while everyone else laughs. She was holding up her pointer finger, but she drops it and replaces it with her middle. Then, despite the fogginess in her brain, she picks up her glass and takes another swig of her third perfectly made rum and coke.

           Once she finishes what’s in her glass, it’s her turn to role, and she lands on the one square that only one other person has ever landed on: The Iron Curtain- player to your left.

           In her drunken state, Emma’s not sure how well she hid her horror. She does not want to go behind the Iron Curtain. Only once was this rule played out, and it was the night that sparked silence between Ruby and Will for two weeks afterwards.

           Ruby cheers and stands up excitedly, jumping for joy and spilling her wine in the process. David groans and says she doesn’t have to do this. Sabine looks at Will, clearly wondering what the hell is going on.

           Emma has to go behind the giant metal sliding door and kiss someone. Specifically, she has to kiss the person to her left.

           When she looks to her left, all she sees is a sea of blue covered by thick black brows. “No way,” he says.

           “It’s the rules!” Ruby has never looked more excited, and her wolfish grin is very off-putting.

           “No! I’m not kissing Killian!”

           “Well I’m not kissing you!”

           “Oh, come on, we’re all adults here! It’ll literally take a minute,” Ruby tries to reason unsuccessfully.

           “A minute? How long do you think we’re going to be kissing? I’m certainly not kissing my best friend’s sister for a full minute.” He looks over at her and shrugs.

           “That’s a great point, Killian,” David chimes in.

           “Nothing from you, pal,” Will pipes up. “The rules state that she must go behind the Iron Curtain with the person to her left. She should’ve sat next to Ruby and this whole thing could’ve been avoided.” His attempt at lightening the mood is truly upsetting.

           “Okay, fuck this. If it’s gonna get everyone off my back, I’ll go behind the stupid Iron Curtain with stupid Killian Jones. Let’s go, idiot.” She grabs his right hand and yanks, noticing that it isn’t all that difficult to get him to come with her. Behind her, everyone is whooping and chanting kiss kiss kiss! as they shut the sliding door behind them.

           Once they're behind the door, the chants become muffled and she’s finally able to comprehend what the hell she’s doing. She’s quite drunk, mainly because Killian is always very generous with the rum when he makes her drinks. She’s not so sure about him though.

        ��  “We’re not actually doing this, are we Swan?”

           “You know, I made the game, and now I’m really mad at myself. Why did you have to sit on my left?”

           He scoffs, although she thinks she sees a smile in his eyes. “I always sit on your left, Swan. We literally always sit in the same seats when we play this.”

           She rolls her eyes once again. “It’s the rules, we have to just suck it up and do it.”

           “I don’t want to suck it up, Jesus. So crass.”

           “Why are you so against kissing me? Do you really think it’ll be that bad, Jones?” She’s raising her voice slightly, for which she blames the rum. “We’re both drunk, we can just do it and forget it happened tomorrow.”

           “I am not even close to being as drunk as you are right now, Swan. And did you forget that you have a boyfriend? Because I didn’t.”

           “I don’t have a boyfriend, Killian,” she scoffs, backing to the wall and sliding down into a sitting position. He cocks his head and turns his body so that he can copy what she did, sitting on her left side again.

           “Trouble in paradise, love?”

           “No… I don’t know. Walsh is fine, it’s just…” she trails off, not sure how to finish the statement. Things with Walsh are just that, fine. But lately, she can’t help the feeling that things between them just aren’t right.            “Fine doesn’t seem promising to me, Emma. Are you sure that’s enough?” She’s honestly caught off guard by the way he says her name. Not love, not Swan, Emma. As if he means what he says, and cares about her answer.

           “No,” she replies so softly she’s unsure if she even heard herself. “I think we want different things.” He hums in response, nodding his head slowly and bumping his shoulder into hers.

           “I’m not convinced kissing me would make that any better. Maybe we shouldn’t do this. I really don’t want to kiss you like this.” For some reason, Emma suddenly feels herself grappling with a strange sensation. I really don’t want to kiss you like this. A pit has formed in her stomach and it feels as though someone has reached in and grabbed her heart, squeezing as hard as they could. Rejection.

           Why on earth would Emma Nolan be upset that Killian Jones doesn’t want to kiss her? Hell, she doesn’t want to kiss him! So, what is it about these words that threaten to send her over the edge? These words that make her feel so much more sadness than she thought was possible?

           “It’s fine,” she breathes, refusing to lift her head in his direction.

           “Swan,” he says carefully. “Emma… What’s wrong, love?” She’s never heard his voice sound so smooth and velvety and caring. Part of her wants to lean into him and take comfort in his softness, but the other part of her continues to replay his words over in her head. I really don’t want to kiss you like this.

           Rude of him to assume that she’s too drunk and sloppy for a kiss, considering he’s the one who made her this way.

           “Stop calling me that,” she finally says dismissively, getting up too quickly and stumbling her way towards the door.

~~~

           “Emma?!” She hears the annoying voice before she sees the face it belongs to. Walsh is pounding on the door, and frankly, he’s the last person she wants to see right now.

           “Did you kiss?” Ruby asks her with her grin still plastered on her face, and Emma rolls her eyes. She sees David looking at her from the corner of her eye, then sees him get up and go towards the door.

           “Emma, are you alright? Oh, hey everyone,” Walsh says when the door finally opens and he sees the party of people in the loft. “Emma, I got your voicemail. Are you okay? You were screaming.”

           “Did you call Walsh while you were behind the curtain with Killian? Emma, that’s sneaky! But you can’t get out of this one!” Ruby’s brows waggle in a way that resembles Killian’s, and Emma’s eyes launch themselves into the back of her head with a roll.

           “What does that mean, behind the curtain? Are you okay?”

           “Walsh, I’m fine. We’re just playing a game. The pipes creaked while I was calling you and it startled me.” Emma’s mood is completely shot, and she isn’t even really sure why. Frankly, she’s pissed at herself for being upset right now.

           “Well, where’s Killian? I’d like to know what he was up to during this game.” She can hear the sarcasm dripping from his voice for whatever reason.

           “How should I know where he went,” She snaps. “I’m not his keeper, I don’t track his every move.”

           “Emma, calm down. Jesus. Do you know what it’s like to receive such a horrible message while I’m at work and then have to come over here and see everyone trashed out of their minds? Would it kill you to just chill out for a second rather than jumping down my throat for asking a simple question?”

           “Woah, mate,” she hears from behind Walsh. Killian has made his way out from behind the curtain and is wearing a look of astonishment on his face.

           “No one asked you, Jones.”

           “Shut up, Walsh,” Emma retorts. The room suddenly feels much quieter than it was just a few seconds ago. Will has turned the music down and everyone has stopped shout-talking.

           “Excuse me?”

           “I said shut up. Don’t talk to my friend like that. Don’t talk to me like that. I didn’t ask you to come over here. In fact, if you had given me a heads up, I would’ve told you not to come over here.”

           “Are you serious? You literally left me a voicemail as if you were in grave danger, and now you’re mad at me for checking on you?”

           “You checking on me isn’t the problem here! The problem is that you clearly don’t actually give a shit and you’re just here to keep up appearances!”

           “What does that even mean? That’s absurd.” He’s rolling his eyes this time, still standing close to the still-open door. David and Killian are both behind him, eyeing Emma carefully.

           “If you really cared about me potentially being in danger, you wouldn’t have come over here with a whole stick up your ass. And you certainly wouldn’t have gotten upset when you saw that I was fine!” Killian purses his lips and nods, and David shoots her a discreet grin.

           Walsh scoffs, backing towards the door some more. “You know what, I don’t need this.”

           “Good,” Emma retorts. “Neither do I. Go home, Walsh.”

           “Where do you think I’m going? Christ, I swear. Go have fun with Killian, I guess.”

           “Don’t bother coming back, and don’t call me! I don’t wanna hear from you!” She’s shouting at him, as if he’s too far away to hear her, even though he hasn’t crossed the threshold.

           “Why would I come back? It’s always been obvious that you don’t want me here, Emma! I don’t even know why I ever bothered! A slut like you could never settle down!”

           She feels like she’s been punched. What grounds could Walsh possibly have to call her a slut? In her entire adult life, she can count the number of guys she’s dated on one hand. Her six-year relationship took up a lot of her time, thank you very much.

           Emma may have felt like she was punched, but at least she wasn’t actually punched. At least she didn’t have Killian and David standing behind her, taking in her insult and rearing up to punch her in the face the second she turned towards them. At least she didn’t have David holding her in her place while Killian swung his right fist straight into her jaw.

           If she wasn’t so shocked by what just went down, she would’ve found it impressive to see Killian and David working together to beat up the guy who just insulted her character. Killian likely wouldn’t have been able to grab Walsh and hold him in place with his left hand while his right hand swung into his face, but with David there, he was able to deliver a firm hit that must’ve made Walsh dizzy.

           “Get the fuck out of our apartment,” Killian hisses, practically spitting in Walsh’s face while he holds his collar with his right hand. Then, Killian shoves Walsh to the ground outside the door and David slams it shut.

           “Alright, Swan?” Killian’s blue eyes are on her, along with everyone else’s. She nods and slowly turns around and walks back to the couch.

           “Emma…” Ruby starts, but she’s clearly not sure where to go from here. Neither is Emma. What the hell just happened?

           “I’m fine. I just- I need another drink,” she says pleadingly, eyes on Killian’s. His brows tighten together in concern, but he nods softly, making his way over towards the kitchen.

           Emma sits on the couch and draws her own brows together, trying to comprehend what just happened. Walsh busted in and started accusing her of making stuff up, or, at least, that’s how she interpreted things. She was already heated, so having him come at her like that must have just set her off. Did she really have to scream at him like that?

           Then she remembers what he said to her, what he called her. Emma has been dating a bit more lately, trying to get over Neal, but she certainly wouldn’t classify herself as a slut, and she definitely wouldn’t say she’s been sleeping around. Walsh just said that because he wanted a relationship and she didn’t… right?

           Then she thinks about what happened after he called her a slut. Everything happened so quickly that she’s not even sure if she remembers it correctly. As soon as Walsh said it, he turned around, as if he wanted to insult her and then promptly leave. However, Killian had just walked out from the other room, and David was the one who opened the door when he first arrived, so the two of them were waiting for him when he turned around. The second they saw his face, it seemed like the pounced. It was almost as if the two of them had rehearsed David holding Walsh in place and Killian hitting him square in the jaw. It wasn’t hard enough to knock him unconscious, but it was definitely a hard hit.

Then, Emma’s thinking about Killian’s knuckles and how they must be starting to ache, so she stands abruptly, stumbles a bit, and makes her way into the kitchen. She’s certain that at least David and Ruby are watching her, but she doesn’t care.

“I was on my way back out, love,” Killian says when she reaches the kitchen area. She nods, her eyebrows still screwed up in concern and confusion. “Would you like your drink here?” She nods again.

“Okay?” She’s looking him in the eye and then glancing down at his hand and pointing at it.

He chuckles softly, “are you asking if I’m okay, or are you saying okay to drinking out here?”

“You,” is all she can say back, eyes still fixed on his reddening knuckles. It’s as if she’s completely unable to focus on anything else.

“I’m fine, Swan. You should see the other guy,” he jokes with a cocky smile, but his eyes soften when her expression remains unchanged. She steps forward towards him, stumbles past his body, and heads towards the freezer, pulling out a box of popsicles. She thrusts the box towards him and nods her head. “Swan, really, I’m okay.”

“You need to ice it,” she says, pushing the box towards him again. She thinks this action through and ends up opening the box and taking one out before forcing him to take it from her. “You only have one good hand left, take care of it.”

His face falls slightly at the comment, and she immediately regrets saying it, but he takes the box from her anyway.

“I’m sorry,” she says, suddenly feeling a wave a guilt that’s likely to drown her, tears pricking her eyes. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way, I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head and walks towards her, steadying her wavering body with his arms and drawing her into an embrace. “It’s alright love, I’m not mad. Everything’s alright.”

She feels like crying, she thinks she is crying, in fact, but she can’t hardly focus on that anymore. Not when she’s also focused on the way Killian smells like the ocean and the way that the smell mixes with the scent of leather lingering on his tight black Henley. He’s squeezing her in a way that makes her almost forget the weirdly terrible turn the night took.

“I’m sorry,” she says again, although she’s not sure why.

“Don’t apologize, you didn’t do anything. I’m sorry he was such a dick to you.”

She shakes her head against his chest and continues to breathe deeply, warding off tears without even meaning to.

Suddenly, as they stand there with him holding her so tenderly, her thoughts draw back to where they were only minutes ago, and she feels that familiar sensation in the pit of her stomach. She moves from him, his embrace loosening, and drunkenly looks up at him with sadness stuck in her eyes. “You didn’t want to kiss me,” she states.

He hums lightly, sighing and nodding his head. “Perhaps we can talk about that tomorrow.”

“No,” she says, “I want to talk now. I won’t want to talk tomorrow.” What she means is, she won’t have the balls to talk about it tomorrow, without excessive liquid courage.

“I didn’t want to kiss you,” he confirms. “I didn’t want to make you kiss me because I thought you would feel bad about it afterwards. What with Walsh and everything,” he trails off. He clearly thought that they were in a better place than they were.

“Walsh is gone,” she says without thinking. “He was gonna be gone soon anyway.”

“Aye, love, I know that now. But I also,” he cuts himself off, sighing and pulling on his bottom lip with his right hand in a way that threatens to drive her insane. His left arm is still slung over her shoulders, but they’ve separated a bit. “I didn’t want to kiss you because of some game you were playing while you were drunk.”

“Oh,” she says, considering this. Perhaps her suspicions about her being too drunk to be kissable were accurate.

“What I mean is, if I were to kiss you, I’d want it to be more special than it would have been behind the Iron Curtain.”

“Oh.”

“Emma?” Ruby rounds the corner before Emma can comprehend what Killian said. “Are you okay, honey? Why are you holding a popsicle?”

She looks down at the melty mess within the white packaging. Killian chuckles and tosses it in the trash, then moves to put the box back in the freezer. While he’s in there, searching for room even though it was just pulled out, she leaves the kitchen and heads straight for the bathroom.  

           She feels slightly better now that she’s walking and not being suffocated by Killian’s muscular chest and intoxicating scent. At the same time, however, she also feels cold and alone.

She notes that it’s now completely quiet in the living room, as if the party died the second Walsh walked in. She feels guilty about being the root of the problem tonight, but honestly can’t really spend much time thinking about it.

           Once she makes it to the bathroom, she gets her cleanser and removes her makeup, then puts on her moisturizer. Throughout her adult life, if there was one thing she was good at, it was drunkenly taking off her makeup and completing her skincare routine.

           Once she gets to bed, she finds her thoughts migrating back to Killian. She thinks about the way his face tightened and his arm muscles rippled when he swung and hit Walsh. She thinks about the way his kind eyes stared at her and only her afterwards, as if he needed to make sure she was okay. She thinks about the way he smelled and how his soft warm chest felt against her face while he held her.

           Then, she thinks about what he said. If I were to kiss you, I’d want it to be more special than it would have been behind the Iron Curtain. What the hell does that mean?

           She would genuinely be lying to herself if she said she hadn’t thought about how it would feel to kiss him. His lips are luscious, anyone would have to admit it. And he’s always doing that thing where he pinches them between his fingers or runs his tongue along the bottom one. If it was anyone else, someone she didn’t live with and someone who wasn’t her brother’s best friend, she probably would have jumped on the opportunity to sleep with him months ago.

But thinking that he’s physically attractive and actually having feelings for him are completely different things. And lately, despite her constant annoyance, she also has feelings of longing and happiness whenever she sees him. Him saying that he would want their shared moment to be special is only adding fuel to the fire of him being crush-worthy. Her feeling rejected by him saying he didn’t want to kiss her also made her feel foolish for ever thinking that she didn’t have a crush on him.

The lights are off and she’s under her blankets, but she hears her door creak open and sees light flooding in the crack. She’s sure Ruby went home by now, so she’s not sure who would be breaking into her room. Rather than dealing with it, she pretends to be asleep until the culprit leaves. Once they do and she hears the door close tight, she rolls over and looks to her bedside table to see that whoever it was left some Advil and cold water for her, and grins, knowing it must have been Killian who dropped it off.

She’s fucked.

[wonderwomanfantasy]

Singing confessions

I listened to a Stephine Maybe song while writing this and it made me cry so we going with that one chief. (song here)

Bakugou x reader

warnings: swearing, that's about it this is supper fluffy

word count: 1,300 (about)

summary: Even though you loved Bakugou you had never really considered confessing to him Until Mina gives you the perfect opportunity to do so. 

Mina had been suggesting a talent show for months now, ever since you all moved into the dorms. She claimed that it was a good way to relieve stress and bound as classmates, but you knew that a talent show would be the only way she could ensure the whole class saw her crush a watermelon with her thighs all at once. 

“Come on guys it would be so much fun!” she wailed over lunch one day. “And we all have a weekend off next week how often does that happen?”

“Who in class has a talent that they would want to share?”  Kirishima asked through a mouth full of food. 

“Lots of people, like you sing don’t you (y/n)?” she asked looking at you desperately.  you flushed, You sang in the shower a little too loudly one time and Mina had yet to let you live it down.  

“you sing?” Sero asked his eyes wide. “Are you any good?” Mina reached over and smacked him

“Yes, of course, she’s good! And you could show the whole class that if you just got on board with my Talent Show idea!” She screamed. 

“Can you Dickheads shut up?” Bakugou shouted, Mina ignored him and went on yelling

“Jiro can play a song and I know for a fact Ojirou does magic tricks, that's a whole show right there!” She threw her hands up. 

“Fine we’ll go but just to be in the audience,” Kaminari sighed. 

“Fuck off I’m not going,” Bakugou snapped 

“oh you’re going to be there and you’re going to like it,” Kirishima growled right back, honestly he was like a mom sometimes.  

the next day mina had posted a signup sheet for the talent show. which was fine until you saw that she had filled your name in for you. 

“don’t get mad!” Mina squeaked before you could even yell at her. 

“Why am I here?” you snapped jabbing the list with your finger

“because- uh, this is your chance to perform the way you’ve always secretly wanted to?” she tried, you glared.  

“tsh you actually signed up for that talent show thing?” Bakugou huffed making you jump. you hadn’t noticed he snuck up behind you. 

“At least there will be one tolerable act during this shit show,” he said snarkily before turning on his heal and wondering away. your heart lurched in your chest. that was a compliment, from Bakugou of all people. 

“So are you going to do the Talent show now that Loverboy is excited to see you?” Mina asked hopefully. you sighed 

“Fine,”  you sighed. Mina cheered and wrapped her arms around you in a bone-crushing hug. Mina was the only person who knew about your tiny crush on the explosive blonde, and so far she had done a pretty good job of keeping your secret. 

“This is going to be great (y/n) So what song are you going to sing? a love song? cus if so-” She rambled 

“why would I sing a love song?” you cut her off. 

“Come one wouldn’t that be a romantic way to confess? a nice love song for lover boy?” She teased. you wanted to snap at her but she was right. you hated when she was right.

“I’ll figure something out,” you muttered noncommittally.

 slowly but surely the signup sheet filled up with names and acts. you were surprised how many of your classmates had joined, and how many of them Mina had forced to join. 

you were also surprised by how well Mina was able to set everything up. Rows of metal folding chairs faced a makeshift stage made of wooden crates and covered with black cloth to make it look clean. 

“Are you sure this is safe?” you asked pressing on one of the boxes and listened to it groan.  

“Probably,” she shrugged. “Now let's talk about the schedule one more time-”

“oh right-” you said cutting her off “-why the hell am I going first? I thought this whole thing was just a stunt for you?”

“Come on (y/n) we both know you won’t go on unless I force you so you go first I go second.” she explained cheerily.

as the seats filled one by one you slowly grew more nervous  Bakugou was there slouched down in the very back. the fact that he was there made your stomach flip. you still couldn’t quite believe that Bakugou was excited to see you perform. you just hoped that you didn’t make an idiot of yourself.

“Okay (y/n) knock em dead, brake a leg, all that Jazz!” Mina squealed and shoved you onto the stage. you sighed and sat in the middle of the stage on the chair provided. 

The track started to play behind you. you took a deap breath and began to sing

I take my notebook and tear the pages out To write down my thoughts in a message. Where I encrypt every line. As the people pass on the street below I smooth out and fold all the edges. Then hold them up against the sky

And I let em go Hope you'll find each word I wrote On these paper planes scattered in the air Oh, I send them off 'cause I know you're out there.

the room was noisy before but now it was silent except for the music and your own voice. it seemed like the entire class was captivated by the sad and sweet song. 

And I picture you discovering Each note all the others step over 'Cause you're the kind who finds the clues And you'll know everyone was meant for you 'Cause you've got the secret decoder Oh, they'll lead you to me soon So I let em go Hope you'll find each word I wrote On these paper planes scattered in the air Oh, I send them off 'cause I know you're out there

you couldn’t really see the audience but you still looked for Bakugou, trying to see his reaction, but it wasn’t possible, so you turned your attention back to the song. 

Oh, I know you'll see The heart beneath Each line you read

So I let em go Hope you'll find each word I wrote On these paper planes scattered in the air Oh, I send them off 'cause I know you're out there

the song ended and the music played out. your friends cheered and whooped as you sheepishly made your way of the stage you searched for an empty seat but it seemed like there was only one, right next to Bakugou, just your luck. you slid beside him with a small wave. 

“you have a pretty voice he muttered his eyes fixed dead ahead. 

“what?” you whispered whirling around to look at him.  What was with him lately?

“What? I didn’t say anything,” he grumbled still not looking at you.

“well whoever told me I had a pretty voice is very sweet,” you muttered. His lip twitched up in a smirk. 

“Did you write that yourself?” he whispered, his bright red eyes glancing over at you for the first time.

“yeah, Did you like it?” 

“who was it about?” he asked dodging the question. you gulped, the song was actually about him, but you couldn’t tell him that. 

“What makes you think it's about someone?” you gulped he leaned in making the hair rise on the back of your neck 

“Can you cut the shit (y/n)? no one writes a song about finding their soulmate without having someone in mind,” he growled. there was a scream as chunks of watermelon flew into the crowd from Mina’s little stunt. you were distracted momentarily but Bakugou was quick to draw your attention back to him. 

“So who is it?” he asked his eyes fixed on yours. your gut reaction was to deny everything, but you fought that urge back. If Mina were here you knew exactly what she would say. You’ve come so far you can’t back down now coward! Do it Now!

“You,”

[soobiniebaby]

Angels & Devils Part IX : Magic Hour

Tomorrow x Together Fanfiction

~ p a r t s : main post || prologue || part 1 || part 2 || part 3 || part 4 || part 5 || part 6 || part 7 || part 8 || part 9 || part 10 || part 11 || part 12 || part 13 || part 14 || part 15 || part 16 || part 17 ~ p a i r i n g : love triangle involving choi soobin and choi yeonjun ~ g e n r e : high school au | some social media au | some fluff & angst | childhood friends | love triangle ~ l a n g u a g e : English ~ w a r n i n g : contains swearing, alcohol, kissing (?) and may contain mature themes (angst, etc.) ~ a / n : This will be my first fanfic (go easy on me pls) and i’m just writing this as I go along, so bear with me juseyo The setting (place/country) of the story is up to the reader’s interpretation ~ s u m m a r y : What should she choose? Han Baby: the new girl with a troubled past MO Academy: her new high school Choi Soobin: student council president, member of the Ecosave club, volunteer at the Humane Treatment of Animals, member of the Honor Society, a vocalist in the Jazzed club, the school’s all around golden boy Choi Yeonjun: leader of the Dance club, star of the Jazzed club, the school’s it boy with a bad rep 5 best friends, 1 new girl, 1 childhood friendship, 1 epic love triangle? What will this school year bring?

Yeonjun had been on cloud 9 the whole weekend.

Ever since he and Baby talked things out and she finally said yes to him that Friday, he hadn’t been able to stop himself from smiling. They had been texting ever since he had left her apartment.

Even the horrendously boring and rigid dinner he had with his parents that night became so much bearable since he had been texting her under the table nearly the whole time.

At the end of the day, he’d call her on FaceTime and they’d stay on video call until one of them would fall asleep.

On Saturday, he and the guys had hung out at Kai’s house. They all put together a care basket, each boy contributing a little gift or token along with a note, to wish B a speedy recovery. He had delivered it to B by the end of the day, stopping by her place for a quick visit as well.

“There’s a cute plushie from Hyuka, a novel highly recommended from Tyun, a collection of movies from Gyu, and handpicked snacks from Soobin. And there’s a get well soon card with a short message from each of us.” Yeonjun says, slowly laying out each boy’s gift in front of B. “Also, Soobin requests that you take a picture with his gift so you guys will have something to post for your project this week.” he adds.

“Alright, I’ll make sure to take a few pictures before devouring them.” B says, excitedly looking at the snacks. “Wow, these gifts are amazing. The boys are so sweet.” she says in awe, grabbing the plushie from Kai and holding it close to her chest.

“The boys? What about me? Aren’t I sweet?” Yeonjun asks.

“Well, I guess you are, but you didn’t get me a get-well-soon gift.” she says, pouting.

Yeonjun laughs. “Don’t worry, I’ve got your get-well gift right here.” he says. When she raises a brow at him in confusion, he simply puts a finger under her chin and tilts it upward as he gives her a kiss, keeping it tender and sweet. He feels her smile against his lips and he pulls away, smiling back at her. “See? Bet you feel better already.” he says.

“Much better.” B smiles, feeling tingles all over her body. “Still no gift, though.”

Yeonjun stepped back, shocked. “Was that not enough for you? What more do you want from me?” he says, exaggeratingly putting a fist over his chest.

B laughs. “You’re so dramatic! Don’t get me wrong, your kisses are great, but I want a gift that’ll keep me from getting bored or feeling lonely while I’m on lockdown for the week. The boys’ gifts are all spot on.” she explains. “If I’m gonna be stuck alone here for the next few days, I’m gonna get bored and lonely.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got the perfect gift. You’ll see.” Yeonjun says mysteriously.

B raises a brow but raises no further questions. That night, she makes sure to take pictures and sends them to Soobin, each of them creating their own social media posts for their project.

When Sunday came, B decided to plan out her week of isolation, wanting to make it as productive as possible. First, she messaged the boys to thank them for their gift basket and to beg them to help her keep up with schoolwork and lessons, which they gamely accept. She also checks her other messages and sees a few from the girls.

She finally messages them, feeling guilty upon seeing how worried they were.

Meanwhile, Yeonjun starts to make plans of his own, wanting to make sure that the coming week would be perfect.

•°•

Monday

Wanting to start her first day of missing classes on the right foot, B had managed to convince at least one of her classmates in each class to secretly have her on call during the periods, so that she could listen in on the lectures on her phone, as if she were taking an online class. She had called Taehyun for first period Economics, Kai for second period History, Yuna for third period Biology, Beomgyu for after-lunch Maths, Taehyun again for Foreign Language class, and Soobin for Creative writing class.

“Why not me?” Yeonjun had asked her with a pout when she told him her plan.

B laughed at how adorable he was. “Because Soobin is one of my closest friends, plus he’s my partner in the class, so it would make more sense if I called him. Besides, it might seem too suspicious if I called you instead of him.” she reasoned.

The whole day, B had her phone by her side as she struggled to listen to the lectures and took down her own notes as well, making sure to catch any dates for assignment deadlines or quizzes. By the time last period was over, B had gotten showered and dressed, first for a quick visit from her family doctor to check on her condition and then for some time to hang out with Ryujin, who had promised to visit since she was immune to chicken pox.

Sure enough, the doctor came by and did a quick check up of her vital signs and assessed her rashes, simply advising her not to scratch them. He was there for a maximum of 20 minutes before leaving.

At a little past 5:30 PM, Ryujin came ringing on her front door holding a box of cinnamon rolls from Kang’s Kafe.

B excitedly hugs her as soon as she opens the door to let her friend in, squealing and thanking her for the cinnamon rolls.

As they step into the apartment, Ryujin observes “Wow B, you look so happy, you’re practically glowing, and I’m pretty sure it’s not the rashes.”

B blushes and waves her hand dismissively. “Oh, it’s probably just cause I’ve been getting a lot of sleep lately, but thanks.”

“A lot of sleep? More like a lot of Yeonjun.” Ryujin says, smiling devilishly. “Come on, tell me more about it! How are you feeling? What is it like to date him? Have you guys done anything yet?”

“Well if you must know, I feel really happy. So happy in fact that it keeps me too distracted to even think about how itchy these rashes are.” B says, rubbing her arms which had small specks of rashes. “And technically, we haven’t even gone on a date yet, but we’ve been talking a lot and he’s called me on Facetime the past 2 nights and he’s just really sweet. And no, we haven’t ‘done anything’ yet, we’ve just kissed a couple of times.”

Ryujin lets out a squeal. “Ah, it sounds so exciting! I’m so happy for you! Honestly, seeing how hard you were trying to avoid him for the past 2 weeks was hard. I wanted to shake you or something just to knock some sense into you. It was actually kinda funny seeing how stubborn you were about it, I mean he obviously liked you but anyone who knew your current situation could see that you definitely had feelings for him as well!” she laughs. “Speaking of, what have the other guys said about you 2 dating? I bet Gyu’s been teasing you 2 nonstop.” she asks, referring to the guys in the student council.

B laughs nervously. “Oh, uh, we haven’t really told anyone yet.” she admits. “I haven’t even told Ningni—I mean Hyuka, about Yeonjun asking me out at the party, so none of them have any clue about Yeonjun asking me out and me avoiding Yeonjun and everything. I’ve only told you and Yuna.”

Ryujin smacks B’s arm. “B! Why? You should’ve at least told Kai about it! Isn’t he your best friend?”

“He is, yes! It’s just hard, I mean I’ve told him about my past crushes and stuff back when we were younger, but it’s just that Yeonjun is his one of his closest friends, so it just feels kind of weird. Like it might make their friendship awkward, especially if things between me and Yeonjun don’t work out.” B says defensively.

“Please, those guys are thick as thieves, nothing could ever break their friendship apart. And stop saying that you and Yeonjun won’t work out, you’re worrying too much about something that hasn’t even happened yet or something that might not even ever happen. Instead of thinking the worst about the future, you should just try to make the most out of the present instead.” Ryujin says.

“Wow, that’s actually really good advice, Ryu.” B admits. “Fine, I promise I’ll try not to worry too much and stuff. But Yeonjun and I agreed that we’d wait until I’ve recovered enough to go back to school until we tell the guys anything about us dating.”

“Oh sweetie, he’s a guy. Heck, he’s not just a guy, he’s Choi Yeonjun. Guys like to talk about girls. And just like you’ve been talking to Yuna and I about Yeonjun, I’m pretty sure Yeonjun has been talking to at least 1 other guy about you too. The question is, which guy could he be talking to?” Ryujin wonders.

•°•

Tuesday

“So that’s what I’ve got planned out for the next few days. Well, while she’s still confined to her apartment, at least. I’ve got a whole week of stay-at-home dates and romantic stuff planned. I just want to make it as good as possible, even if she can’t leave her house.” Yeonjun says, finishing up explaining his plans in great detail. “It’s what she deserves, especially after hearing how much she struggled the past 2 weeks. I just want to make sure she won’t regret her decision to finally say yes.”

“Yeonjun, that sounds amazing.” Beomgyu says, looking at the blue-haired boy in awe. “I always knew you had your ways to woo a girl, but damn I’ve never seen you plan out something like this before. I especially like the part where you sort of kidnap her.” Beomgyu laughs. “Congrats on finally getting the ‘yes’ by the way. It was kinda killing me to see how hard the past 2 weeks have been on you too.”

“It’s what she deserves. It’s crazy cause I don’t think I’ve ever liked a girl this much before, especially since I’ve only known her for a few weeks.” Yeonjun gives him a bright smile, and Beomgyu could tell just how smitten he was.  “And thanks, Gyu. Thanks for being there for me these past couple of weeks, too. And thanks for keeping it between us.” he adds, remembering how Beomgyu had noticed how different Yeonjun had been acting, and how Yeonjun himself had finally told Beomgyu about everything.

From how Yeonjun had been watching B at the party to how Yeonjun had found himself smitten by B during their 7 minutes together to how Yeonjun had asked her out twice and even to how he had winked at her onstage. He didn’t mean to tell anyone about his feelings for their new friend so soon, but he couldn’t bear the weight of it any longer. Now he was happy to be telling Beomgyu about how he had taken care of B when she was sick and how they had finally been able to talk things out.

“Dude, you’ve got it bad.” Beomgyu says, laughing and clapping him on the back. “I have to admit, it’s a bit weird seeing you talk about a girl so much, but I can’t help but feel proud that you’ve finally found someone you genuinely seem to care for.”

Yeonjun nods. “Yes, I really do. And thanks Gyu, really. She just feels really different, I guess. And I’m hoping that the more I get to know her, the more I end up liking her, instead of the other way around. Usually with me, girls can make a strong first impression at the start but then when I try to get to know them more, they end up feeling just like everyone else. I don’t think it’ll be like that with her, though.”

“With all the things you’ve got planned for her, I highly doubt that’ll be the case.” Beomgyu says. “I’m sure she’ll love it. Go get her, Yeonjun!”

And he did.

That afternoon, he stood outside her apartment door feeling just a tiny bit nervous, his hands full, whispering and instructing the people behind him for the last time before he rang the doorbell.

“Coming!” Yeonjun could hear her yell from inside the apartment, and he smiled to himself.

He braces himself as she opens the door, and as soon as he sees her face, his heartbeat instantly speeds up.

“Hi, Baby.” he simply says as he stands in front of her with a bouquet of blue roses, the string quartet that he had hired for the afternoon starts to play a soft rendition of Euphoria by BTS.

She stands there for a moment, a hand covering her mouth as she stares in awe at the blue-haired boy before her and the blue roses he held, to the four string players holding their instruments and serenading her, until the chorus comes up and Yeonjun softly sings, “Take my hands now” as he takes one of her hands in his and squeezes it gently. “You are the cause of my euphoria.”

She unfreezes then, taking a step towards him and wrapping her arms around him to give him a hug, which was a bit of a challenge considering the dozen roses between them.

He laughs as she gives up on trying to hug him and settles on standing on her tiptoes to give him a quick peck instead. “You’re supposed to take the flowers first, silly.” he says.

“Yeonjun! This is just…wow.” she says, taking the flowers in her arms, they were heavier than they looked. “This is incredible. You’re incredible. This it too much, this is… just, thank you so much.” she says, flustered.

“Oh, Baby. This is nothing, don’t sweat it.” he says, savoring her reaction. If she was gonna smile this wide and get this flustered every time he made a romantic gesture like this, then the rest of the week was going to be fun.

•°•

Wednesday

B had been wondering why Yeonjun had made such a strange request that morning, but she was happy to oblige. It’s not like she had anything better to do in her apartment, and she spent most of her time listening to lectures through phone calls in her bedroom anyway. She had called the same people as she had for the past 2 days, glad that she had found a way to keep herself up to date on lectures.

She had almost forgotten about Yeonjun’s request until her last class for the day ended, and she heard sounds coming from inside her apartment. She kept her bedroom door closed the whole day, so the sound of some unknown person in her apartment was alarming.

She quickly dials up Yeonjun’s number, trying to keep herself calm and telling herself that it was probably not a dangerous intruder but rather something related to Yeonjun’s request.

“Hey Baby, what’s up?” he says, answering on the second ring.

“Hey Yeonjun, uh, I’m in my bedroom right now and I thought I heard something from inside the apartment so I was wondering if it’s something to do with what you texted me this morning or if there really is an intruder and I should call the police.” she says, trying to sound causal and calm.

Yeonjun laughs on the other end, which causes B to relax a bit. “You are adorable. Very smart and safe that you checked with me first though, everytime you hear strange noises in your apartment, call me right away okay?” he says. “For now, don’t worry though, I promise you’re safe. It’s part of the plan, I asked some people to help me set up for our date today. Sorry for making you panic, I should’ve given you a heads up.”

B scoffs. “Psh, I was not panicking. I’m just being very smart and safe, like you said.” she says. “What kind of date requires you to ask for help to set up though? What exactly do you have planned for today?”

“Now why would I tell you that? You’ll find out in about an hour anyway, but for now, promise me you’ll stay in your room until I tell you it’s safe okay? If not, you’ll spoil the surprise.” he says.

B nods. “Yeah sure, I can do that.” she says, even though the curiosity was killing her. What kind of date did Yeonjun have planned now?

Just then, B hears a voice from Yeonjun’s end of the call. “Hey YJ, you want me to ride with you to Kang’s? Or should I ride with Soobin?” Beomgyu asks.

“Hop right into the car, I’ll just finish up this call.” Yeonjun responds. “Hey Baby, gonna grab a quick snack at Kang’s with the boys before I head to your place. I’ll make it quick, so try not to miss me too much.” he says.

“Don’t worry, it’s the rest of the guys that I really miss anyway.” she says teasingly. “It’s only been a few days, but I haven’t seen them in forever.”

“Oh? So since you’ve been seeing me almost everyday now, you don’t miss me? Yeonjun says, and B could practically hear him pouting from the phone.

She laughs. “Don’t be silly, you know I miss you too.”

Yeonjun laughs too. “I miss you too. See you in about an hour, alright? And wear something nice.” he simply says before hanging up.

“Was that her? Was that B?” Beomgyu asks as Yeonjun gets into the car, joining him in the back seat before the car starts to move, taking them to Kang’s café.

Yeonjun nods. “Yeah, she was worried cause she heard a noise in her apartment but I told her it’s just the dinner people.”

Beomgyu raises a brow. “The dinner people? Wait, which date is this? The one where you hire people to set up the apartment in like a super romantic—”

“Yes yes, it’s that one.” Yeonjun said, amused at how excited Beomgyu was, remembering that he told Beomgyu about all his date plans for the week. “I’m a little worried that it might be a bit too much? What do you think?”

Beomgyu laughs. “Honestly, what you’ve got planned for today is…small compared to what you’ve got planned for Thursday or Friday. Considering she’s not supposed to leave her apartment, it’ll be a challenge to pull off too.”

“Oh, I asked her doctor about it and he said that as long as she’s very careful about who she comes in contact with and limits exposure as much as possible, then technically I can take her out. Just a matter of how and where I do it.” Yeonjun says confidently. “I’m sure it’ll be fine, I can pull it off.”

Beomgyu gives him a smile and a pat on the back. “I’m sure you can, Yeonjun. Don’t worry about sticking around at Kang’s either, you can leave as soon as you want, I’ll back you up. Try not to keep her waiting, you know?” he says supportively.

“Thanks, Gyu. I’ll just order something for takeout and I’ll go.”

•°•

B takes a deep breath and straightens out her dress one last time before finally opening her bedroom door and taking a step into her living area.

And she was immediately rendered speechless.

The place looked almost unrecognizable. The furniture had been moved around to make space in the middle of the room for her small round dining table and 2 chairs. The lights were all off, the apartment illuminated solely by candlelight, with tea candles and blue rose petals scattered all over the apartment, carefully sprawled all across the floor and sprinkled on the furniture. The table was set up for 2, with delicious-looking dishes already in place and a bottle of white wine along with a flower arrangement and 2 candles in the center.

She could hear the string quartet from yesterday from within the apartment, and after letting her eyes adjust to the dim light and looking around she could see that they were hidden away in the kitchen, softly playing their rendition of Home by Michael Buble.

Then Yeonjun reveals himself, he was waiting right outside her bedroom door, and he holds out a hand to her. “Han Baby, I know it’s a bit early, but would you do me the honour of having dinner with me?” he says grandly.

B lets out a laugh, looking at him in awe. “It would be my pleasure, Choi Yeonjun.” she says, taking his hand.

He smiles back at her and leads her to the dining table, pulling out her chair and letting her sit before joining her.

“I’m not sure what food you’d like, but I got garlic butter baked salmon, chicken kievs, Caesar salad, a bottle of Moscato and a serving of chocolate covered strawberries for dessert.” Yeonjun says, presenting the table on the food.

“Wow, they all look so good.” B says, feeling her mouth start to water. “How did you do all this? How did you put this all together?”

“Well, I had a bit of help, of course.” Yeonjun says, pouring the wine. “I asked my driver Hwall and some help from home to bring over the food, move the furniture and set up the candles and flowers. And the string quartet, whom you’ve met yesterday, are a few friends from my old school.” he says, giving a quick salute to the four string players in the kitchen, who warmly smiled back at him. “I hope you didn’t mind having strangers in your apartment, I’m sorry if you got scared. I should have been more considerate.”

B accepts the glass of champagne but shakes her head. “Yeonjun, it’s fine. I trust that you’re being careful and that you wouldn’t compromise my safety. This is all very lovely, thank you.” she says, reaching over the table to take his hand and gently squeezing it.

He smiles warmly at her. “Thank you for trusting me. I’m glad you like it.” he says, once again savouring the moment. The warmth in her eyes as she looked at him, her initial shock upon seeing the dinner set up, how good it felt to have her hand in his, and just everything about her in general.

Since he couldn’t be out too late on a school night without raising suspicion from his father, he wanted to make the most out of every minute. From sharing the most compelling yet laughably random conversations over dinner, to the sickeningly sweet banter over dessert, to the intimacy of slow dancing in her living room.

He made sure to bid his friends from the string quartet goodbye and help B with putting her furniture back in place before calling up Hwall and letting him know it was time for him to go.

As she walks him out of her apartment, lingering by the doorway for just a moment to say goodbye.

“You know, you never cease to amaze me, Choi Yeonjun. I’m starting to think there’s nothing you can’t do.” she says, as he stands outside her door. “Except fly, of course.”

Yeonjun smiles at her quizzically. “What makes you think I can’t fly?” he asks playfully, pulling her closer.

“Because you’re only human?” she says, laughing. “Besides, I don’t want a boy who can fly. I just want you.” she says, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Aw, Baby, you’re so sweet.” Yeonjun says, planting a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Now, let’s say I could fly, would you still want me then?”

“And you’re so silly! Of course I would.” she laughs, stroking his hair. “But for now, I think you have to go.” she says, seeing his driver standing by from the corner of her eye.

“I’m afraid I do.” he says, giving a quick nod to Hwall before completely wrapping his arms around B’s waist and holding her tight, which causes her to squeal.

“See you tomorrow?” he says, finally letting go.

She nods. “See you tomorrow.” she says, waving him off and watching him walk away.

Right before he gets into his car, he takes one last look up at B’s apartment, and he’s pleasantly surprised to see her still standing outside, a hand on her chest as she smiled to herself, spinning in place a couple times before walking back into her apartment and closing the floor behind her.

He couldn’t wait to see how she’d react for what dates he had planned next.

•°•

Thursday

With Yeonjun’s simple request, once again, B didn’t really know what to expect.

She certainly wasn’t expecting to be ambushed at her front door with a bouquet or blue roses and to be serenaded by a string quartet on Tuesday, and she definitely wasn’t expecting her apartment to feel like a romantic 5 star restaurant yesterday, but his request for today’s date caught her so off guard that she couldn’t help but to overthink.

Wear something comfy?

What did he mean by that? What kind of date would entail such a simple request? Would it be something as simple as staying in and watching movies together? Knowing Yeonjun, it probably wasn’t.

While still keeping track of lectures through cellphone calls, she spent more of the overthinking about what kind of date Yeonjun could have possibly planned for the day, and what kind of outfit she’d be wearing.

At the end of the day, she decides to message her girl friends for help once again.

And right as she finishes fixing herself up, she hears the doorbell ring. She calls out “Just a second!” and quickly swipes on some blush to finish the look before running up to the front door and opening it.

“Hey, Baby.” Yeonjun says, smiling at her. “You look nice. You definitely found the perfect balance between cute and comfy.” he says, checking out her outfit.

“Hey Yeonjun! Thanks.” she says, smiling back. Just as she opens the door wider, ready to welcome him into the apartment, he takes her completely by surprise and says “Come on, let’s go.”

She blinks once, twice, still surprised. “Let’s go? Go, uh, where?”

“You’ll see. C’mon, put on some shoes and grab your things. Hwall’s waiting for us downstairs.” he says casually.

“Go? Where? And how? I mean, I’m still highly contagious, my doctor said I couldn’t leave—” B starts, still a bit dumfounded.

“I’ve cleared this with your doctor. Yes, you’re still possibly highly contagious, but where we’re going, there won’t be anyone for you to infect.” he says.

Confused, B decides to put on a pair of sneakers and grab a small sling bag before locking her apartment door behind her.

“Ah, before I forget.” Yeonjun says, rummaging through his bag before pulling out a surgical face mask wrapped in plastic. “You’ll have to put this on for now. Safety reasons.” he explains, handing it to her.

She obliges, and once the face mask is secured, he grabs her hand and leads her to the car.

•°•

“So…where are we going?” B asks for what feels like the hundredth time.

“You’ll see.” Yeonjun responds for what feels like the hundredth time.

“Are you kidnapping me? Should I be worried?” B asks. “Hey, Hwall, is he kidnapping me? Should I be worried?”

Yeonjun’s driver Hwall looks at her through the rear-view mirror as he drives. “I assure you, with sir Yeonjun, you’re in good hands.” he simply says.

B lets out a huff. “You didn’t answer either of my questions, but fine, I trust you.” she says, looking out the window and noticing how unfamiliar everything looked. They were now going uphill and had a fairly decent view of the town. “Wow, I am just now realizing just how little I know about this place. I mean, I just moved here, and all I know is how to get to school and back.”

Yeonjun laughs. “I don’t blame you, but it’s practically the opposite for me since I’ve lived here since I was a kid.” he says. “Don’t worry, I’ll show you around the whole town pretty soon.”

B gives him a curious look but doesn’t say anything. She continues to look out the window for the rest of the ride, noticing how high up they were going. Once they reach the top of the cliff, the car suddenly pulls over and stops, causing her to look around excitedly.

“Is this it? Are we here? Where are we?” she says excitedly, trying to look around for any clue as to what Yeonjun had planned for their date. All she could see, however, was the edge of the cliff and how high above the town they were.

“Huh, I guess we got here a bit early.” Yeonjun says, looking out the window. “Molang isn’t here yet.”

“Molang? Who’s Molang?” B asks, raising a brow.

Just then, she notices a low whirring noise, not knowing what it was or where it was coming from. She notices the sound getting louder and louder, until a helicopter comes into view.

As she spots the helicopter flying in and slowly approaching them, her jaw drops. “No way.”

Yeonjun laughs as he stares at her, amused by her reaction. “Yes way. Baby, this is Molang. My beautiful Airbus ACH175 helicopter.” he says, waving at the pilot through the window, who raised a hand back to acknowledge him. “And that’s Sunwoo, our pilot for today.”

“Yeonjun, I—” B starts, but she doesn’t really know what to say. “I—”

He laughs again. “Are you ready to fly?”

B simply nods, staring at the helicopter that was now landing in very close to proximity to where the car was parked. Once Yeonjun opens the door for her and she steps out, that’s when she notices that they were parked next to a helicopter pad situated right by the edge of the cliff.

“Okay, so, helicopter? How?” she manages to say, still struggling to put together coherent words. She could feel the end of her cropped sweater flapping around her torso as they came closer to the helicopter

“Let’s just say that there are a lot of perks that comes with being the sole heir to my father’s business.” he answers, almost yelling to be heard above the noise, taking her hand as they approach the helicopter.

They take the proper precautions and double check everything to make sure that they were securely strapped in, with Sunwoo the pilot briefing them on basic safety protocols and informing them of how they can communicate via the headsets provided.

Yeonjun buckles B into the backseat himself, making sure that she was strapped in tight and taking off her face mask, telling her “Don’t worry, I asked and made sure that Sunwoo is already immune to chickenpox beforehand, so you being contagious won’t be a problem.” before stealing a quick kiss and securing her headset. Next, Sunwoo helps him buckle up next to B, making all the necessary safety checks before they take off.

“Are you afraid of heights, Baby?” Yeonjun’s voice suddenly rings into B’s headset.

“No.” she replies, looking at him and squeezing his hand tight as she feels the vehicle lift off into the air. She wasn’t exactly scared, but she wasn’t expecting to leave the ground when she woke up that morning.

The view was simply breathtaking. She had flown in airplanes before, and as much as she enjoyed being at airports and taking the window seat, but nothing could compare to seeing the small town from a thousand feet in the air.

Below them, the world looked green and blue, the town highlighted by the abundantly green trees and the river that surrounded it.

Throughout the ride, Yeonjun had begun to point out the most random things to B. From the park where he won his first soccer match in when he was in the 5th grade, to the building that his father owned which he absolutely hated. He told her endless stories of the places he’d run away to when he felt like escaping, and stories of the places he’s learned to love the most after years of living in one place.

As the sun started to set, the city lights started to light up slowly, then all at once.

“Wow, this is amazing. It feels like magic.” B says, staring in awe at the town below them, now illuminated in hundreds of shining lights.

“Magic hour, when the sun sets and all the lights start to turn on.” Yeonjun agrees.

B could feel her neck start to ache from keeping it outstretched the whole time as she tried her best to look out the window, drinking in as much of the view as she could.

Meanwhile, Yeonjun had his eyes on her the whole time.

•°•

Friday

Just then, B hears her doorbell ringing.

She yells out “Coming! Just a minute!” before getting up and making sure she was appropriately dressed before making her way to the front door.

As bummed out as she was about their her supposed last stay-at-home date with Yeonjun being cancelled, she also couldn’t help but feel curious about what could have possible come up that Yeonjun had to cancel it.

She was so engrossed in her thoughts that she forgot to check through the peephole before opening her apartment door, and as soon as she saw the person standing on the other side, she felt her heart skip a beat.

“Baba!” Kai exclaims, throwing his hands in the air. “Surprise!” he says, before engulfing her in a hug.

She unfreezes then, her mind in scrambles, trying to comprehend what was happening.

“Ningning! What are you doing here? And why are you hugging me, step away from me, you might get chickenpox!” she exclaims, trying to pull away from his embrace.

“Actually, I’m here because I have chicken pox.” he admits, subtly rubbing his arms, which B suspected were covered in itchy red rashes. “A few people from school have started to show symptoms, actually, myself included.”

“Oh my god, you have chicken pox? Are you okay? Did any of the other guys get it?” she asks, concerned.

Kai shakes his head. “I’m fine, just a little itchy. And no, as far as I can tell, it’s just me so far. The school’s in chaos now, everyone’s starting to show up to school wearing face masks and spraying alcohol every 5 mintues. Everyone’s afraid of the chicken pox.” he says, shivering.

“That sounds disastrous.” she comments. “So what brings you here exactly?”

Kai grins. “Well, since I have chicken pox now, and you’ve had chicken pox now, and no one else in my family has had chicken pox so I’d be a major health threat to them, I was wondering if I could maybe…stay with you?” he asks sheepishly.

“Oh, like we could quarantine together?” B asks. “I was actually medically cleared by my doctor already so I can come back to school on Monday but I’d love to have you here! Why not?” she says, squealing excitedly as she hugs her bestfriend.

Kai laughs happily. “Oh thank god, Lea practically kicked me out of the house and sprayed me with alcohol the whole time when I got sent home from school. I was able to grab a few of my things before I was banished from my own home.” he says, relieved.

“Oh, you poor thing.” she says, ruffling his hair. “Come on in, I’ll make sure the guest bedroom is clean and ready for you.” she says, welcoming him into her apartment.

“Thanks, Baba! Oh, I’m so excited, I’ve missed you so much! I haven’t seen you in a whole week.” Kai says, whining. “I can’t wait to catch up with you. Honestly, MOA has felt so boring without you so there’s not much I have to say. But I can’t wait to hear all about how you spent your week!”

B laughs hesitantly. “Oh, psh, there’s not much to tell you either.” she says weakly.

“Don’t say that, I’m sure spending a week at home felt like a mini vacation! So tell me, what did you do the whole week?” Kai starts, as they enter the guest room.

I’ve been going on dates with our dear friend Yeonjun B thought to herself, though she knew she couldn’t bring herself to just tell her bestfriend about it.

So what could she tell him about her week?

[perpetually-jungshook]

RED || 04

Genre: humor, jimin x jungkook; taehyung x jimin; taehyung x jungkook, angst, fluff, humor

Summary: Life is weird. Jungkook works as Jimin’s niche porn photographer and finds it difficult to remember that the he’s only flirting with the camera. Namjoon despises the world of big business but works as a manager for an international corporate company and hates it (cruel irony, he says). Yoongi is just a typical IT guy who has a secret he’s never told anyone, which is totally typical. Hoseok and Seokjin work at a retirement home, from which they one day bring back some random volunteer with fiery red hair who may or may not change everything.

Warnings: language, crude humor, pining, explicit sexual content

Word Count: 11.2k

Links: Storyboard || 01 || Previous || Next

Since tomorrow is Sunday, Jimin doesn’t have to worry about his office job, which means he can stay up late relatively guilt free. Thus he disregards the need to look at a clock, gliding through the surreal after-midnight hours, passing time by scrolling through social media on his phone and idly listening to some TV show about baby animals for background noise.

He’s not sure exactly what happened between Seokjin and Namjoon after they started talking on the phone, but from what he could hear, it sounded like it had gone okay. The older boy had admitted to being irrational and apologized, saying something about “personal issues getting in the way of my judgement and stuff.” Jimin thinks they may have agreed to meet for breakfast tomorrow morning to talk things over, which is a great start. At least, it’s better than running out of a restaurant and coming home to mope about perceived rejection. But that was a few hours ago, just before both Seokjin and Hoseok went to bed.

According to Instagram, one of his high school friends is getting married; and on an unrelated note, piglets have very sensitive snouts.

Jimin can only assume he’d begun to doze at some point because eventually, he’s startled awake by the sound of the door opening. The world that comes back into focus is a bit hazy at first, foggy around the edges with sleep still tugging at his mind, coaxing him to come back with sweet whispered nothings and a gentle hand.

Illuminated by the soft blue light cast over the room by the TV is a vaguely familiar head of fiery red hair. A small smile that leaves Jimin puzzled finds its way onto his own expression.

“Hey.” Jimin’s voice is a little hoarse, deeper than normal.

Taehyung looks up, probably surprised that anyone is still awake. His reply is a whisper, likely trying to be polite to the rest of the household, “Hey. You’re still up?”

Jimin nods, blinking sleepily at his new companion.

“Yeah. Where’ve you been? Out so late,” he giggles quietly.

“I’ve been down at Kook’s. We lost track of time watching anime.”

Scooting over to give Taehyung room to sit if he wants it, Jimin curls up around a pillow, hugging it to his chest. “Sounds fun. So you guys are pretty good friends now?”

“I dunno,” Taehyung replies as he goes over to his duffle bag, fishing out some clothes. “He seems really cool. Just kind of shy.”

“Yeah Kookie’s like that.”

The conversation pauses as Taehyung exits the room, the closing door an indication that he’s probably changing and washing up. Now by himself, Jimin’s eyelids start to feel heavy again and he can only fight the wave-like pull of sleep with a well timed yawn or two. The sound of a faucet turning on momentarily underscores the words of the TV narrator, who is currently describing a sleepy litter of puppies. Gosh darn cute baby animals. They make everything better.

Jimin smiles.

The bathroom door opens and Taehyung walks back into the living room, dirty clothes in a bundle that he sets beside his bag. He’s wearing sweatpants, though any glimpse Jimin might’ve had of them being “hung low on his hips” is unfortunately obscured by a threadbare white T-shirt.

“Taehyung?”

He hums in acknowledgement before taking a seat on the other side of the well loved leather couch.

The pause between calling his name and continuing to speak is just a beat too long, causing tension to flit through the air between the two boys.

“Why do you volunteer at the retirement home?”

It sounds suspiciously casual for the pause that had come just before, but the question “have you decided if you want to fuck yet?” just seems a bit too crass for the situation.

One of Taehyung’s eyebrows rises just a bit, though Jimin is unsure if it’s from shock, curiosity, or neither of those, but it’s definitely not condescending, which is reassuring. Maybe he’s just amused.

“Well,” he starts of quietly, hesitantly. “If you’re looking for a heroic story about me having a heart of gold, I’m sorry to say I’ll disappoint you.”

“Half of my income comes from porn. I really don’t think I’m in a position to judge whatever you’re about to say,” Jimin’s voice is finally starting to return to normal, less rough, now a little amused.

Taehyung takes a deep breath before replying, “I volunteer at the retirement home because my grandma lived there before she passed. We were really close and I guess I just saw how much they needed help.”

If Jimin could stare loudly, he would.

“You realize that’s like, total heart of gold material.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Both boys share a quiet laugh, but Jimin lets his peter out into a soft, “I’m sorry to hear about your grandma though.”

“It’s okay. I miss her a lot, but she lived a good life.” In the dim light of the TV, Jimin can see Taehyung smile wistfully. There’s pain in his expression, but it’s distant, like he’s long come to terms with what happened.

Jimin’s brain is still a tad too much on the “asleep” side of the spectrum to make decent conversation, so he lets the dialogue end at that. It seems like a good conclusion, bittersweet, like much of life. A few minutes pass.

Apparently puppies open their eyes at around two weeks old.

With the subject of Taehyung’s grandmother fading, Jimin’s body is tempted to scoot over and lean his head on Taehyung’s shoulder. The thought makes him feel terribly guilty. Is he really so desperate? Even after his time with Hoseok earlier today? Sure it’s a relatively innocent gesture, but he wouldn’t be doing it to comfort Taehyung, which makes it purely selfish. So he restrains himself, his posture getting slightly stiffer.

It’s when the episode shifts from puppies to kids (the baby goat kind) that Jimin begins to wonder when Taehyung will be going to sleep so he can wallow in awkward shameful semi-silence by himself. And it’s at that point that he realizes he’s literally sitting on Taehyung’s bed.

“Oh my god I’m literally sitting on your bed,” Jimin whisper yells.

All guises of quietness are dropped as Taehyung laughs, but thankfully, his laugh is naturally quiet and deep.

“Did you just realize that?”

“Yeah, I’m really sorry,” Jimin stands up, setting down the pillow and arbitrarily fluffing it. “You’re probably exhausted.”

“I was honestly thinking you were trying to pull something,” Taehyung says, chuckling.

“Pull something?” Jimin pauses, almost tripping on the coffee table as he blindly backs away, intending on going to his room.

“Yeah, like you were trying to see if I’d mention the the possibility of us fucking.”

Jimin’s heart skips a beat, pulse catching on the lump in his throat.

“I, ah, will admit, I thought about it. But some things are more important and it’s super late and you don’t even seem to be that into me so…”

Taehyung stands and in the soft light of the TV, Jimin can see his tongue poke out, briefly wetting his lips, maybe stalling, maybe thinking, maybe neither.

He reaches over and places a warm hand on Jimin’s shoulder, then affectionately ruffles his hair.

“Well I’m glad we got to hang out, even if it was only for a little bit.”

Jimin notices that the other boy doesn’t directly respond to any of his reasons for not bringing up fucking, baited or not.

“Same here.”

Maybe he really isn’t into me, Jimin considers, accompanied by a small pinch in his chest. He gives Taehyung a small nod and walks the remaining few steps to his room, closing the door quietly.

—

Week two PT (Post Taehyung), things seem to be going pretty well. The boy with the fiery red hair is no longer as… threatening as he used to seem. Maybe threatening isn’t the right word, but from what Jungkook has heard, he’s kept his promise and hasn’t tried to fuck Jimin. This is reassuring because it means one, Taehyung (probably) wasn’t lying when he said he didn’t want to sleep with Jimin; and two, Jungkook is starting to think of him as a good friend. And good friends don’t boink each other’s crushes (or, as a recently established rule, steal each other’s already microwaved hot pockets).

It smells like coffee, which is a fairly reasonable observation namely because Jungkook is currently sitting in a coffee shop. His sensitive nose can also pick up hints of tea, but nothing like that godawful poison Taehyung had made about a week ago. Sometimes he still wonders how Seokjin survived. Anyway.

This cafe is one of those places that features a succulent covered wall that doesn’t look completely real or completely fake, leaving customers intrigued but unwilling to touch because it’s color coordinated and shaped into some artsy spirals around the unreasonably cursive cafe name. Jungkook can’t read it, but he’s pretty sure it has something to do with beans. Opposite the plants, the shades have been drawn over the of floor to ceiling windows, filtering the orange tinged evening sunlight into something soft and pleasant to match the dim illumination from the rustic, vintage glass fixtures hung above the high tables surrounded by wooden stools.

Soothing jazz music underscores the sounds of a clacking keyboard, a few conversations, and the loud buzzing of a blender.

Jungkook’s fingers wrap around the warm disposable coffee cup. It’s starting to get colder outside. Not quite winter yet, but he’s glad he can now comfortably wear a hoodie in the middle of the day and maybe not look like a depressed, overworked college student. Not that he doesn’t look like that anyway despite being neither overworked nor a college student.

He inhales deeply, but quietly, shifting around on his stool in a futile attempt to alleviate the stiffness in his lower back and lessen the ache in his butt. Jungkook was the first one to arrive, a little early as usual. And by a little he means an hour. It’s not like he was doing anything productive or interesting on a Thursday night anyway.

So why not go out, even if it means sitting by himself for a while? Distract himself from the fact that he has another shoot with Jimin tomorrow night. He compulsively takes a sip of coffee at the thought. Fuck.

“Jungkook?”

His gaze lifts from the currently upside down inspirational quote “artfully” carved into the tabletop to look for the familiar deep voice. Once again, it’s surprisingly not Namjoon’s.

“Hey,” Jungkook gives Taehyung a small yet genuine smile as he walks over, taking the opposite seat, which leaves the also (but less) unreasonably cursive inspirational quote right side up from his perspective, and the small stage behind him. “You here to see Namjoon?”

“Wait, is he… doing something special?” Taehyung asks, appearing genuinely worried and confused.

“Open mic poetry night?”

“Oh? Is that why you’re here?”

“Is that not why you’re here?”

Both boys stare at each other before sharing a giggle. Taehyung adjusts the faded blue bandana holding up his hair before replying, still amused, “I honestly don’t know what’s going on. Jimin just told me I needed to come. Low key, I was kind of scared he was asking me on a date so poetry night is like a huge relief?”

Jungkook smothers another laugh behind a sip of coffee.

“Well, dates aren’t really Jimin’s M.O. in general, so you don’t have to be afraid of that.”

“I mean, I kind of figured, but I didn’t want to just assume, yknow?”

“True.”

A few moments pass in awkward not-silence, the jazz music still playing, the people still talking, the blender buzzing loudly again.

“So are you super early or did Jimin tell you to come now?”

Taehyung glances at his watch, then replies, “I’m early. What time does the open mic start?”

“About thirty minutes.”

“Okay that’s the time he told me to be here.”

Jungkook feels a little relieved too. It seems that Jimin had just invited him as a friend, though it is a bit strange he hadn’t told Taehyung why. It’s a line of thought that Jungkook forcefully pushes away. He doesn’t have the right to question Jimin’s motives, or to be possessive in any capacity. Besides, Taehyung has proven over and over that he is not interested in Jimin’s advances. So shouldn’t Jungkook, at the very least, trust him?

“I’m gonna go grab something to drink. Save my seat?” Taehyung says with a big, boxy smile.

“No problem.”

Jungkook looks down at the table again, perfectly square and and oddly modern blend of metal and light colored wood.

Another sip of coffee compulsively passes his lips.

Before Taehyung can finish ordering, Namjoon arrives in his beanie, boots, ripped jeans, and three layers of a mismatched mix of a jacket, flannel, and T-shirt. He definitely looks like he belongs in this coffee shop, drinking some fancy hipster beverage Jungkook probably wouldn’t be able to remember or pronounce. In all seriousness though, it’s nice to see his housemate not in a suit and tie.

Namjoon works hard at a job that he hates, so seeing him be himself? It’s refreshing.

He gives Jungkook a dimpled smile and a small wave when they make eye contact, but as usual immediately goes over to secure his place in the lineup, talking to the girl standing next to the small, raised stage set up in the corner of the establishment. It is also an oddly modern blend of metal and light colored wood. Jungkook wonders if it was custom made.

“Looking good,” Jungkook laughs brightly as his older friend walks over.

Namjoon chuckles.

“Thanks. I’m a little nervous.”

“Why?”

Before Namjoon can answer, Taehyung comes back to the table, disposition cheery.

“Hello Namjoon! I hear you’ve got a performance tonight?” Taehyung says, likely not knowing he interrupted. “I hope you don’t mind— Jimin invited me.”

“Course I don’t,” Namjoon replies smoothly, only the typical, genuine easy going good nature present in his smile. “Thanks for coming.”

“What did you get to drink?” Jungkook asks politely, but gives Namjoon a “we’ll finish this later” look.

“Tea.”

“Naturally.” Jungkook laughs and nudges him with his elbow.

Taehyung gasps comically, dramatically placing his hand on his chest.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Jungkook sing-songs.

“Alright you two play nice. I’m gonna go warm up my voice. Practice a bit more,” Namjoon chuckles, ruffling Jungkook’s hair.

Jungkook scrunches his nose. RIP the twenty minutes of trying to actually care about what his hair looked like before he left. He’d parted it and used a little product and everything. But it’s Namjoon, one of his best friends, which helps Jungkook be a little more forgiving.

“If you’re trying to convince me that you don’t already have everything memorized, it’s not working,” Jungkook teases.

“Maybe not practice then,” Namjoon is still smiling, but there’s something almost nervous about his expression, which is an emotion not often seen on him during open mic nights. “Maybe just work up my courage.”

Without further explanation, he gives Taehyung an acknowledging nod and walks away from the table, toward the restroom. Weird. Why would Namjoon need to “work up his courage?” Poetry is his element, the thing he loves.

Just as he’s about to ask Taehyung for a second opinion (because Jungkook is apt to read social situations incorrectly), the other boy’s name is called from the counter. He smiles apologetically before snaking his way through the sparse crowd, leaving Jungkook alone once again with a quick, “Be right back.”

He doesn’t allow himself the illusion of peace in solitude though, and it’s a good thing he doesn’t because almost immediately:

“Jung-Jung-Kookie!”

There’s only one person who calls him that.

Jimin’s familiar face bounces above a head or two, clearly seeking out his friend. Jungkook raises his hand in a halfhearted signal. The weight of shame at the fluttering of his heart and the heating of his cheeks has become normal and Taehyung’s words echo in his mind.

Nothing feels good or healthy about it, but you can’t help it because you love them.

A ghost of a smile makes its way onto his expression as Jimin spots him, mood visibly brightening even from across the room. The coffee cup suddenly feels too hot in his hands, despite the fact that it’s been cooling for well over twenty minutes now.

“Hey Jimin,” he attempts to greet his friend warmly as the older boy weaves his way over to the table, then circles his arms around Jungkook’s neck in a painful but affectionate hug.

Jimin nuzzles into Jungkook’s hair, humming happily, saying, “I’m excited for tomorrow. I already have my costume picked out and everything. You’ll love it.”

“I always like what you wear.”

The disparity between “like” and “love” are exceedingly apparent to Jungkook, but he figures Jimin won’t notice at all. He just doesn’t feel like he can commit to using the latter word right now.

“But I’m sure you’ll find this one particularly fascinating.” Jimin wiggles his eyebrows playfully, formal diction helping a knot of uneasiness tangle in Jungkook’s stomach.

Before he can find a good response, Taehyung comes back and saves him.

“Look who else is early,” the boy with the fiery red hair laughs lightly, but seemingly genuinely. “I didn’t expect you for another twenty minutes or so.”

He takes his old seat, across from Jungkook and now Jimin, who still has his arms wrapped loosely around the younger boy’s neck.

Jungkook can hear the smile in Jimin’s voice, “My dad always used to say fifteen minutes early is on-time and on-time is late. What’d you get?”

He nods at the drink as Taehyung takes a sip.

“Tea,” Jungkook is shocked to find himself answering first, but Taehyung had told him earlier. So it’s not weird, right?

“Nice! I pegged you as a tea person.”

“Considering he tried to kill all of us with his noxious tea fumes…” Jungkook grimaces.

Taehyung sets his cup down, holding it with both hands as he laughs heartily this time, “That tea is perfectly fine! In fact, it helps get toxins out of your body.”

“It still smelled like feet. Rotten, moldy feet.”

“Stop it,” Taehyung says, humorously pushing out his lower lip. “You’ll hurt its feelings.”

The three of them giggle as Jimin drops his arms a little and hooks his chin over Jungkook’s shoulder, the height of the stool not allowing him to rest it on top of Jungkook’s head. Jimin then turns to look at him, his face so close that Jungkook can feel the older boy’s warm, minty breath on his cheek. He must have just brushed his teeth before coming here.

“How do you know what rotten moldy feet smell like anyway?”

“That’s none of your business.”

This earns him a poke to his side, which causes him to squeak, but it effectively allows for a change in subject.

“Well, it seems like the two of you are becoming fast friends,” Jimin says, sounding thoroughly amused. “And you don’t even live together.”

“Yeah Kook’s pretty cool,” Taehyung shrugs, taking another sip of tea. “We have a lot of things in common— or at least a lot of similar opinions. And this is camomile, just so you know. Not moldy feet.”

He turns his nose up with a dramatic huff, but can hardly conceal a grin. He probably isn’t trying that hard.

“Okay, camomile is acceptable.”

“Can I try?” Jimin asks brightly, his arms dropping as he backs away to move around the table and hop up onto a stool next to Taehyung, looking excited, full smile reaching his beautiful eyes, crinkled cutely, almost closed.

Jungkook mourns the loss of body heat, the feeling of Jimin pressed flush against him, chest to back. Somedays, he indulges in the fantasy that they might cuddle like that someday, Jungkook as the smaller spoon despite his larger body. Seokjin once called it an intense “need to feel taken care of,” but Jungkook thinks of it more like… if Jimin was holding him, it would mean he wants to be there, that Jungkook isn’t trapping him. Maybe it’s a mix of both reasons.

“Sure,” Taehyung hesitates, but only for a moment before handing over his disposable cup.

The blender starts up again in the background.

Jimin takes a drink and makes a face, his ridiculously long tongue pushing out from between parted lips.

“Hot,” is all he says.

Taehyung laughs, “Small sips, Jimin. That’s the trick. Oh, Kook?”

Jungkook looks up, having been staring intensely at his coffee cup, now abandoned by his hands on the table, in order to not imagine the things that ridiculously long tongue might do between his legs.

“Y-yeah?” his voice, unfortunately, cracks like he’s a prepubescent teen again. Dark times. Coconut hair, mostly black wardrobe, a little too much eye liner. Okay maybe some things haven’t changed too much. But he definitely wears it better.

“Do you wanna come with me to record my podcast on Saturday?”

It takes a moment or two to process the words.

“Sure! Yeah— I mean, yes. Absolutely,” Jungkook says, heat rising in his cheeks. “But what exactly would I be doing?”

Taehyung hums thoughtfully, “Well, just hanging out. I thought it’d be something fun we could do together. Then get doughnuts or something after.”

“Great,” Jungkook can’t help smiling. “I look forward to it.”

That random conversation comes to a smooth end as Hoseok and Yoongi enter the cafe and walk over, the former cooing when he sees Jimin still caring for his burned tongue. They go to the register to ask for some cold water and probably drinks for themselves too. Yoongi, already holding a cup of coffee from a franchise store, takes a seat next to Jungkook, having pulled over a stool from another table.

“Isn’t that like, against common etiquette? To bring in drinks from other cafes?” Jungkook asks, causing Taehyung to smother a giggle.

Yoongi’s voice, as usual, is a little on the gravely side, “This place’s coffee tastes like shit and you know that.”

“Well if you didn’t just drink it black-”

“I can drink it however the hell I want, thanks.”

To the outsider, Yoongi might seem unwarrantedly cruel or biting, but Jungkook just finds him amusing. He’s grumpy, sure, but all it takes is a simple laugh and nudge of Jungkook’s elbow to cause an angry pink to dust across his cheeks.

“Yes, black. So it can match your soul.”

“That’s an overused joke and it disgusts me.”

“Hey Kook, you’re one to talk,” Taehyung pitches in carefully, though with an easy smile. He’s clearly teasing, but has mentioned before that Yoongi terrifies him, so his hesitance is understood. He gives Jungkook a dramatic once over, smile getting wider. “I mean look at what you’re wearing.”

Jungkook naively looks down.

“Hey, at least I’m wearing grey and black. Yoongi’s wearing all black.”

Yoongi doesn’t need to look down to shoot Jungkook A Look, retorting, “I’m forced to wear button downs and slacks almost every day. Let me and my goddamn casual wardrobe live.”

“Shhhh,” Jungkook reaches over, placing his finger on Yoongi’s lips. He’s pretty sure that the older boy is fighting the intense urge to bite him. “I didn’t say it looked bad.”

He giggles and drops his hands, leaving Yoongi to mutter under his breath and indignantly sip his coffee. He figures the heat from the drink is probably what causes the red in his cheeks to deepen.

Really though, Yoongi doesn’t look bad. He hardly ever does, even on those hard days where he comes home from work half asleep and Jungkook isn’t sure whether the correct description would involve him murdering a man or having been the one murdered. Maybe it’s not a good thing that he wears exhaustion well, or maybe it’s simply a testament to how hard he actually works, despite his claim that all he does is “turn computers off and on again.”

Today Yoongi looks a little less tired though (then again it could just be the coffee). His hair is a bit disheveled, like he’d been running his fingers through it, and he’s drowning in this oversized black sweatshirt that makes him look nothing short of cute though he would definitely be The Murderer if someone said this to his face. The sleeves are so long that they’re scrunched up around his elbows and still almost cover his pale hands, which are still wrapped protectively around his foreign coffee cup. The lower hem of the sweatshirt drops almost to his knees, covering his dark jeans, which lead down to black converse. Sometimes, Jungkook wonders how it would feel to cuddle Yoongi, sit the older boy down in his lap so he can loop his arms around Yoongi’s waist and hook his chin over Yoongi’s shoulder, but Jungkook figures it would be like trying to hug a pissed off, soaking wet cat.

Now done poking fun at Yoongi, the three of them fall into a comfortable non-silence, listening to the jazz music, blender, and murmuring while scrolling through phones. A few minutes later, Hoseok and Jimin return from the counter, the former holding what he claims to be coffee (but is really hot chocolate), and the later holding a plastic cup of water. The five boys make polite conversation until the lights dim and the girl next to the stage announces that open mic poetry night is about to start.

No one mentions the fact that Seokjin isn’t here.

Namjoon is third in the lineup of five. This might make one think that it would be a fairly brief event, considering four of them are regulars, but it is a wrong assumption. The first person is up on the stage for twenty minutes, speaking in overly enunciated rhyming iambic pentameter. Jungkook internally cringes at the fact that he knows what that is, but he makes sure to clap, knowing that despite how cookie-cutter it was, the person probably worked hard to describe those trees and that lake in so, so many extended metaphors.

The second person is thankfully more on the brief end of the spectrum, clocking in at just under five minutes. What it’s about? Jungkook doesn’t know. He lost interest as soon as he saw Yoongi pull out his phone.

Yoongi isn’t usually the type to answer texts right away, so Jungkook couldn’t help being curious when he spotted the “now” time stamp on the message preview. It was Seokjin, but Jungkook had turned away the moment Yoongi unlocked his phone. If Seokjin had wanted him to see it, he would’ve texted the group chat or Jungkook directly.

Now, Namjoon walks up onto the stage amidst light applause from those patrons paying attention. It’s immediately apparent that he’s lacking the stage presence he usually carries, the confidence that allows him to stride up onto the stage without so much as a quiver of his knees. This time, despite his muscular shoulders, long legs, and broad chest, he looks… small.

Namjoon clears his throat as he gets to the microphone, then holds up a sheet of paper. Sure the other speakers consistently use notes, but Namjoon has never used them when he’s in front of an audience. It raises another red flag in Jungkook’s mind.

“I, um…”

The speakers screech with a bit of feedback, causing him to flinch away from the microphone slightly. A small crease forms between his eyebrows, reading as distress. Memories suddenly bubble to the front of Jungkook’s mind, small snippets, fragments, pieces of a puzzle he probably won’t ever see completely.

Relative quietness in the group chat. Less time with everyone spent at one apartment or the other. A morning where Namjoon left without eating breakfast and came back three hours later before locking himself in his room for the rest of that Sunday.

Namjoon’s voice sounds small too, still deep and smooth, but afraid.

“I wrote this poem just a few days ago after having a… conversation with a friend. It doesn’t have a title yet, but I’ve been thinking of calling it A Study in Gray.”

He pauses for a moment, as if collecting his thoughts. Then begins.

I look at you, sitting across from me,

only a table’s width away.

If I reach out, I would be able to touch you.

Just a brush of my fingers and I could

feel the warmth that’s risen onto your cheek.

If I reach out, I’d be able to put my hand on your shoulder.

A comforting gesture to say I’m here,

you’re not alone.

If I reach out, I might be able to bridge the gap

that I unknowingly created when I told you I’m

not sure what I feel.

These were the things I was sure of:

You appeared excited when we met, nervous.

It made me excited yet nervous too.

You ordered a coffee, which you don’t usually drink

and put a little too much sugar in.

You’ve always said it upsets your stomach.

Why do I know this?

Why do I know that you prefer tea?

I don’t know what it means.

I have entered an area of gray,

where surety has faded into the unsure.

I am uncomfortable here,

which is something of which I’m entirely sure.

My life consists of blacks and whites,

not rights and wrongs but

decisions that turn people into numbers

and emotions into letters on a page.

Equating what happened to a grayscale

is damning both you and me to the world of colors,

though you are anything but gray to me.

You are bright red, passionate;

vibrant orange, excited;

deep blue, stable;

rich violet, imaginative;

and soft pink, comforting.

You are not a grayscale,

but I am— and you help give my life color.

Jungkook’s focus momentarily drifts to Jimin. His features look soft in the dim lighting of the cafe, a small, proud, yet concerned smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he watches their friend speak, slowly gaining a passionate tone, but still lacking the usual confidence. Jungkook’s attention then slowly slides over one seat, now landing on Taehyung. He wears a focused expression, lips pursed, eyebrows drawn together. Jungkook can only see half of his face due to the angle, but the way the lighting plays off of his fiery red hair and tan skin is interesting. His photographer’s eye wants to capture the moment, but he can’t—

Actually, yes he can. Taehyung gave him permission.

He doesn’t have his camera, which is unfortunate, because he’d like to have this moment saved in high resolution, but his phone will work just fine. Jungkook snaps a quick few photos before he blushes and realizes that he should probably take a couple of Namjoon too. They aren’t as coordinated as he’d like them to be, but that’s the thing about candid shots. Isn’t it.

A sharp nudge to his side makes Jungkook wince and almost drop the device. He turns to look at Yoongi, who’s also holding up his phone but is recording instead. Jungkook must have gotten in the way, blocked the view or something. He mouths an apology before tuning back into the poem.

There is only a table’s width between us.

If I reach out, I’d be able to put my hand on your shoulder.

A comforting gesture to say I’m here,

you’re not alone.

If I reach out, I might be able to bridge the gap

that I unknowingly created when I told you I’m

not sure what I feel.

If I reach out… But I don’t.

Because I’m afraid.

Because I’m confused.

And by the time I realize that I

need to

reach out, it’s too late.

I find a wall between us, one of glass.

It allows me to see the color, but not touch it.

And the worst part is,

the wall that separates us…

I don’t know if I’m the one who put it there.

It’s definitely different than Namjoon’s usual ranting about capitalism, sexism, and racism. Jungkook can almost positively say the content change is what had him so nervous, and he can’t exactly blame Namjoon. It was a moment of emotional vulnerability instead of the raw passion he usually displays while writing, then reading it aloud. There was a lot of figurative language, but Jungkook definitely has more pieces to the puzzle now. Seokjin must have confessed that morning at breakfast.

Four of the five boys around the table clap enthusiastically, wanting to be supportive of their friend and probably being embarrassingly loud amidst the polite applause from the rest of the cafe. One set of hands is missing though, this much Jungkook can tell because he’s sitting right next to it.

Yoongi’s thumb hovers above his phone screen for a moment more before he hits the “stop recording” button, then pockets the device. He gets a couple claps in before the next person walks up on stage.

Namjoon practically bounces over to his friends with a bright but nervous smile. He glances at the five boys, scanning their faces. His smile falters.

“Did- did you guys like it?”

There’s still the low murmuring of quiet conversations and mixing drinks in the cafe, background noise that makes talking during the performance a few steps shy of impolite.

“Namjoon, that was great!” Hoseok answers immediately, excitedly, probably a little too loud but the sentiment is appreciated.

“I agree, it was awesome,” Jimin adds with a nod.

Yoongi hums, his voice a little pouty as he thinks aloud, “Could do with a little less repetition, but it was good.”

Coming from Yoongi, that’s definitely a compliment.

Jungkook simply reaches out and puts a hand on Namjoon’s shoulder, giving it a proud, affectionate pat. Taehyung even gives a quiet comment of approval, though looks a bit shy about speaking up.

It does not go unnoticed that while Namjoon glows under the kind words of his friends, he does keep glancing toward the door. Jungkook can’t help but wonder whether he’s disappointed or relieved that Seokjin didn’t show up.

—

Jungkook hums quietly to himself as he sets up his camera, an idle distraction that does little to settle his nerves and instead makes him feel somewhat nauseous. The alternative is feeling very nauseous as he waits in anxious anticipation to see why Jimin’s costume will be “particularly fascinating.”

The ensuite bathroom door opens and Jungkook suddenly thinks there’s a high chance he might be a masochist.

The background image Jimin had requested should’ve given him a hint. It should have, but either Jungkook didn’t want to see it, or he’s just really dense. The edit Jungkook had made was of the interior of an ice castle, and the theme reflects perfectly on Jimin— in the way he’s done his makeup, in the way he’s dressed (or rather, undressed), and the way he’s carrying himself.

A delicate, thin crown sits atop his head, matt silver with a tasteful amount of (plastic) diamonds accentuating the leaf-like design in the metal (which actually might be plastic too). He’s wearing another cape, though this one is noticeably thinner and shimmery silver. Where does he keep getting these? Is there an outlet store for capes? Capes R Us? Jungkook wants to laugh at the thought, but he can only swallow thickly because this time, Jimin isn’t completely naked underneath that cape.

His eyes, made sharper by the makeup, narrow as he smirks, “You like it?”

He’s wearing a body harness, dark leather straps crisscrossing beautifully along his chest, abdomen, and thighs, all in stark contrast with his skin, the cream couch, the silver cape and crown, and the icy blue that will be in the background. It makes him look more feminine than usual, accentuating the generous curve of his hips before spiderwebbing up into a choker, sitting at the base of his neck. It leaves his chest and crotch on full display.

Jungkook has to fight the carnal urge to pull at the straps, yank Jimin forward into a searing kiss. He squeezes his hand into a fist and thinks of taxes and essays.

“I don’t think I should answer that question,” Jungkook clears his throat and goes back to setting up his camera. “But it objectively looks nice.”

“You’re seriously no fun,” Jimin pouts. “I get to see one reaction when we do these shoots and that’s yours. C’mon Kookie, I dressed up so pretty…”

Jungkook pauses, his finger poised on the power button, but he doesn’t look over. Not yet. He’d gone to the gym this morning, just to try it out again before his membership expired. He’d felt good about it, like maybe he was getting back on track.

And yet here he is, struggling to keep a blush off of his cheeks, to keep his goddamn dick in his pants. It’s frustrating, not two steps forward one step back, but like no matter how hard Jungkook tries to step, his feelings keeps restraining him bodily, not allowing a single inch of progression.

With a deep breath, his hands leave the camera and he turns to face Jimin with a small smile, crossing his arms in subconscious defensiveness, maybe hoping to spare himself the pain, “Okay, well what can I say that’ll make you happy?”

“That takes all the fun out of it.”

“Oh stop,” Jungkook laughs lightly, hating himself for feeling like a slut as he caves and walks over, placing his hands on Jimin’s shoulders and keeping his eyes above the waistline. “You look great. Objectively and subjectively. I know you worked really hard for this.”

Jimin’s lips, previously downturned in disappointment, quirk up, his expression vulnerably hopeful as he asks, “Really?”

“Are you asking me to repeat the cheesy as fuck thing I just said?”

“Maybe.”

“If you weren’t pretty much butt naked right now I would smack you.”

“Smack me… where?”

“No, I’m not going to spank you.”

Jimin giggles, wiggling his hips humorously, causing his still flaccid dick to flop around, “But Kookie…”

Jungkook scrunches his nose, “Don’t swing that thing around near me.”

“What? You don’t like it?” He giggles harder, rolling his hips enthusiastically to make his dick bounce, “But you stare at it all the time.”

The younger boy backs away a step, fighting a strange urge to laugh hysterically.

“You can’t prove anything.”

Jimin matches his step and closes the distance again, now rolling his whole body sensuously. It would be… really fucking hot if his dick wasn’t soft. This one detail makes the situation ridiculous and hilarious. Jungkook takes a few more steps back, now laughing openly. His legs bump ungracefully into the bed and he’s forced to half stumble, half crawl over it in a desperate attempt to escape with his sanity at least partially intact.

“Jungkookie! Come give me a hug!”

“Make me.”

“I’m trying!”

Smiling deviously, Jimin catches Jungkook’s ankle, dragging him back onto the bed as he tries to dive off of the other side.

“How are you so small but so strong?”

Jimin is suddenly straddling the backs of his calves and his hand comes down on Jungkook’s ass, more sound than sting through the fabric of his jeans, but he squeaks in surprise anyway, freezing as he realizes what might be touching the back of his thigh. Something brushes against him as Jimin moves again, distributing his weight strategically.

“Is this what you want, Kookie?” Jimin teases, his hands now on Jungkook’s thighs to stabilize himself, not necessarily doing anything naughty. “Is this what you imagine me doing to you when you look at my photos?”

Jungkook’s first response is a petulant whine, muffled into the blankets, followed by, “I don’t jerk off to them.”

“Oh of course you don’t,” Jimin coos, giggling again as his fingers play with the bottom hem of Jungkook’s shirt, pushing it up just high enough so that the cold tips press against the skin of his lower back. He shivers. “Then in your fantasies, do you top or bottom?”

Jungkook’s cheeks must be scarlet by now and he’s trying very hard to ignore the fact that there’s a high probability he’s got a goddamn boner.

“I…”

“C’mon Kookie, I’m curious. Tell me and I’ll get off of you.”

Jungkook lets out another whine of distress as Jimin wiggles on top of him and yeah, that’s definitely a flaccid weenie touching his thigh. In any other situation, this would be pretty great. Jimin in a pretty body harness behind him, otherwise naked, asking whether he’s a top or bottom. But in this situation? Not good. Hella not good. Like a whole metric hella, worth approximately two metric shit tons. More importantly though, why would Jimin want to know this?

He’s never shown more than a teasing, but good natured shallow interest in Jungkook’s obvious attraction to him. What changed? Or has anything changed at all? He fights down the surge of hope. Even if Jimin finally decided to reciprocate feelings, this isn’t how Jungkook would want things to happen. Are rose petals and a candle lit dinner cheesy? Yes, but that’s the kind of boy Jungkook is. So he hesitates, unsure where this is going, what Jimin is thinking.

Jungkook struggles again, trying to get free without having to answer, but it only makes things worse. Much, much worse.

Jimin’s weight shifts quickly as he pins the younger boy down beneath him, chest now flush against Jungkook’s back and oh god the flaccid weenie is now definitely touching his butt (the less he thinks about it as “Jimin’s dick,” quite a serious topic, the better).

“Just tell me pleeeease?”

At this point, anything is better than this situation, Jimin on top of him, wiggling again, material of the cape draped over both of them. It’s starting to get too warm. Jungkook’s brain and willpower are losing traction as tension builds in his body, a mixture of panic, guilty arousal, and physical discomfort. For some reason, it’s Jimin’s fingers withdrawing from under his shirt that finally causes him to snap.

“You top.”

Everything stops abruptly except for the building heat beneath the cape. Jimin is no longer moving and his giggles fade away. For a moment, there is nothing but the sound of their breathing and the faint voices of the TV on the other side of the wall in the living room.

And then Jimin asks, voice unreadably soft, quiet, “I… top?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook says with equal quietness and softness, though he thinks it’s due to the fear of being judged.

“Huh,” he huffs, sounding surprised above anything else. “Well that’s interesting.”

“Interesting?” Jungkook says, a little panicked as Jimin scoots off of him, lying tummy down on the bed beside him. The cape continues to cover both of their bodies, which is probably a good thing. Though with the older boy’s body heat gone, the warmth is a lot more bearable.

Jimin shrugs, the action muffled by the abundant silver cloth around his shoulders.

“Yeah. Most guys I ask want to fuck me— yknow, want to do the fucking.” His voice sounds small as he continues, “So I guess I just didn’t expect that answer.”

Jungkook wonders if Jimin prefers to top or bottom. He’s never heard the older boy explicitly express his preference, probably for the better since it would’ve had to come up in casual conversation. That doesn’t mean Jimin doesn’t have one though, and Jungkook also inevitably wonders whether he lets himself indulge in that preference, or simply allows the other person to choose. He can’t voice any of this though, of course not. It’s not his place. He loves Jimin, but— no.

He loves Jimin, and thus he shouldn’t ask. It’s too personal, might make things awkward because that’s what Jungkook does. He makes everything uncomfortable.

So naturally he goes with the safest option: humor.

“Well you’re the one who climbed on top of me and suggested it in the first place,” Jungkook laughs, but it’s breathy, a little strained.

Jimin gives him a small smile, “Okay true. I just… you didn’t seem like the type that’s all. Considering how much you work out and stuff.”

Work out, present tense. As if he hadn’t just picked it up again today. It’s weird to think that Taehyung knew more about Jungkook’s more recent habits than Jimin does.

“We’re generalizing then?” Jungkook smirks, feeling more comfortable now that he’s started to recover from his near fatal encounter with the unexpected weenie and Jimin has put a bit of physical distance between them. It also helps that they’re teasing again, meaning Jungkook feels less like he’s under a spotlight.

“No! I just… yes,” Jimin pouts, but it’s cute. “I’m sorry Kookie. I of all people should know not to assume things like that.”

“It’s alright,” Jungkook, a slave to his emotions, reaches out and pokes Jimin’s nose, not sure where else he might be able to touch without ruining makeup or hair or feeling like a pervert. “I’ll forgive you one day.”

Jungkook giggles with humorous, purposeful obnoxiousness. It causes Jimin to smile again.

“RIP Jimin,” he says, speaking in third person.

“RIP Jimin,” Jungkook agrees softly.

They lie there for a minute or two, searching each others’ expressions. Or it’s maybe just a few seconds. It’s hard to tell, but eventually, Jungkook takes a deep breath, his voice quiet as if he’s disturbing something more than relative silence, “We should probably get some work done, right?”

The older boy nods and slowly pushes himself up, the cape cascading around him gracefully in some places, hugging him sensuously in others. Jungkook can’t help but notice that his companion’s dick is half hard now, but thankfully, the younger boy no longer has his own half chub to hide. So much for that hallmark romcom scene.

The rest of the shoot is relatively uneventful, considering what happened before it started.

After months of practice, Jungkook has finally managed to perfect (mostly) the art of not (often) looking down at Jimin’s dick, which is supposed to be hard when photos are taken, as per instructions.

So yeah, he totally masturbated as Jungkook set up the lights. It took a lot of humming to pretend he didn’t hear Jimin’s hand, his shaky breathing, and soft sighs. Sometimes he wonders what Jimin thinks about when he touches himself. Certainly not Jungkook, but it’s definitely an intriguing line of thought.

Jungkook also wonders whether Jimin practices his expressions in the mirror between shoots because fuck he just radiates the perfect amount of coldness while dripping with sensuality. It’s a weird contrast, seeing Jimin in a body harness, implicative of binding, and wanting the older boy to fuck him senseless while draped over the arm of the couch.

Taxes and essays. Essays and taxes.

Thus ice prince Jimin is brought out of the imagination and into physical being, captured in photographs with sultry stares, no smiles, and the prettiest dick Jungkook has ever seen (or tried not to see because gosh darn it he still has dregs of willpower).

When Jungkook says they’re done, Jimin stretches out and gives him a small smile.

“Thanks Kookie,” he stands and with a much different demeanor than earlier, wraps the cape fully around himself as if wanting to hide his body. “I’m gonna go shower off.”

“No problem,” he says, returning the small smile. “Want me to wait for you or…?”

It’s still relatively early in the night. He figures Jimin might want to get food.

If Jungkook didn’t know better, he’d think Jimin’s cheeks dust pink, but it must be a play of the light.

“Ah, okay. If you want to. I mean you have to pack up anyway.”

Jungkook nods. They stand there awkwardly for a few seconds before Jimin jabs his thumb over his shoulder, continuing, “Alright, I’m gonna go do my thing.”

He doesn’t wait for a response before walking with quiet steps into the bathroom.

For some reason, sympathy is the first word that comes to Jungkook’s mind. He cleans up the shoot methodically, but avoids the couch. That’s Jimin’s responsibility namely because… well, ass and balls, to put it plainly. It’s just a silent agreement they’ve had since the beginning. The sound of the shower is consistent in the background.

When he finishes, Jungkook sits down on the very edge of Jimin’s bed, trying to relax. He’ll leave his equipment in here for safekeeping. Maybe he’ll suggest eating in, heat up some leftovers because honestly he’s kind of tired.

But then Jungkook perks up at the sound of a familiar voice.

It’s muffled through the wall, distorted slightly by the TV and the shower, yet Jungkook can still tell it’s Yoongi and if Yoongi is here, something exciting is about to happen. He doesn’t go out after work without good cause and he definitely doesn’t come upstairs unless invited (unlike Jimin and Hoseok, who love to pop up in the other apartment without warning).

Jungkook gets up to walk to the door because those extra couple steps will definitely with all certainty absolutely improve his hearing. Yoongi’s talking to Taehyung and it makes Jungkook happy to know he can identify both voices immediately now. What they’re saying, he has no clue but the boy with the fiery red hair laughs, which is reassuring.

His ear presses to the door.

“… something to show him.”

“No, I haven’t seen him yet. He might still be working.”

“Oh okay. Mind if I hang out here?”

“Take a seat.”

“What are we listening to?” Jimin’s whispered voice, so close to his ear, makes Jungkook startle, which causes him to jump back, accidentally elbowing Jimin in the stomach and stepping on his foot. “Kook what the fuck?”

“I’m sorry! You scared me,” Jungkook says, hands ghosting over Jimin to make sure he’s alright. “But I promise I didn’t meant to.”

The older boy is now in sweatpants and a much too large threadbare T-shirt that slips over one of his shoulders. His hair is damp, though towel dried so it doesn’t drip or stick to his forehead. It’s probably still a little tacky from product, but it’s natural again and he’s barefaced, features softer without the makeup. This is obviously a more domestic look. Jungkook prefers this over body harness ice prince Jimin.

“Really?” Jimin laughs breathily, holding his stomach and looking up at Jungkook like an injured puppy. “No, Kookie, I thought you tried to kill me on purpose.”

It takes a few seconds for the sarcasm to register, at which point Jungkook quiets the ensuing stream of apologies and scrunches his nose in a pout.

“Aw don’t be like that,” Jimin says. “I’m the one who almost died.”

Jungkook continues to pout dramatically, now leaning against the door with his nose to the wood. Jimin coos, gently trying to pry the younger boy away from the wooden barrier, hands on his shoulders.

“Kookie…”

He simply (fake) sniffles.

“C’mon you love me,” Jimin is giggling, still weakly tugging on him. “Let’s hug and make up.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Fine.”

Jimin squeals quietly as Jungkook allows him to pull his larger body away from the door and envelop him in a tight hug. It’s everything Jungkook wishes he could have on a regular basis. Soft, affectionate, strong. As Jungkook turns to accommodate Jimin and wrap his arms around the older boy, he can’t help thinking that Jimin fits perfectly in his arms, chin hooking over Jungkook’s shoulder, their bodies melding together to fill the cracks.

But it’s the wrong kind of perfect. Two things that aren’t meant to fit, like a coin in a ring, baby carrots in a battery slot, or a tennis ball inside of a drainage pipe. He doesn’t know what to make of it.

—

Jimin gives Jungkook a playful squeeze, smothering giggles into the younger boy’s chest as his body naturally lets out a huff with the sudden added pressure. It’s cute. Such a big boy, but so quiet and gentle.

He won’t lie, it’s nice hugging Jungkook. He represents an area of safety to Jimin, the cause of no pain except the slow boiling guilt inside him, but that’s omnipresent  anyway. Jungkook wouldn’t hurt him, won’t let anyone else hurt him either. He’s a source of comfort and warmth, two things Jimin doesn’t often get to experience without giving something of himself away.

“So you never answered my question,” Jimin says, pulling back to look up at him without the danger of them being close enough to kiss. “What were you listening to?”

“Nothing too interesting. Yoongi’s here.”

“He is?”

“Yeah. Wanna get something to eat?”

Jimin nods and lets go, slowly taking a step back. He can still feel the ghost of the dull ache and sharp bite of the leather on his skin, especially around his groin. It’s hard to find full body harnesses for men that are pretty. So yeah, sometimes he has to resort to strangely fitting female attire, which often leaves his genitalia in uncomfortable situations. But that will all fade by tomorrow evening. For now, he’ll enjoy the feeling of a job well done.

They exit the room with polite greetings to Taehyung and Yoongi before Jimin leads the way to the kitchen where they heat up leftovers. He slides the bowls across the island countertop, placing one in front of Jungkook and the other in front of the empty seat beside him.

As Jimin is getting the spoons, Hoseok and Seokjin walk into the apartment, the former chattering on as usual about Ms. Piper, who apparently sent back her food four times today, refusing to eat until— and pardon Jimin for not listening intently— something about a rice dish.

He takes a seat next to Jungkook, handing the younger boy a spoon so they can both start eating.

In his peripherals, Jimin can see Yoongi stand up and approach Seokjin, interrupting the conversation about Ms. Piper. They speak quietly until Yoongi pulls out his phone, handing it to the older boy. Seokjin looks perplexed for a moment before nodding, then walking over to the small dining table behind Jimin, meaning he can no longer see.

He thus loses interest quickly, especially as Hoseok strides over and puts his arms around both his and Jungkook’s shoulders.

“I see you’ve finished with the shoot already huh?”

“Yeah,” Jimin confirms with a smile. “Jungkookie made it nice and easy.”

“That’s great! Our resident photographer is so talented,” Hoseok presses a loud smooch to said photographer’s cheek. “But now that you guys are free, we should totally play a game.”

“That depends on what type of game,” Jimin turns to give him a suggestive smile. “After what happened last time-”

“Okay that wasn’t my fault.”

“Namjoon still had to get stitches,” Jungkook pauses eating for a moment to add helpfully.

Hoseok pouts, backing up to cross his arms over his chest, “Well he should’ve been more careful with the Monopoly pieces.”

“So what game?” Jimin presses with a light laugh.

“How about… truth or dare?”

Jungkook huffs, “Can’t you pick anything less cliched?”

“Well if someone hadn’t pissed Jin off we could still play hide and seek.”

A memory flashes through Jimin’s mind. A park at midnight, dappled with the dim white glow of streetlights and washed in soft silver by the crescent moon. A pond, inky black with blurry edges that gently lap at the paths around it. Worn wooden benches, massive aged trees. Hoseok decked out in glow sticks; Yoongi sitting in a playground plastic tube; Jungkook helping Jimin into a tree; a splash— Namjoon and Seokjin soaking wet.

He smiles.

“Maybe we should try hide and seek again,” Jimin wiggles happily in his seat, bringing the bowl into his lap so he can continue eating as he speaks to Hoseok. “But this time no going near the pond.”

“Yeah okay good idea, but I’m not going to be It first this time,” Hoseok negotiates, hands now on his hips.

“Not It,” Jungkook declares. He finishes his last bite of food before getting up and walking over to the sink.

Jimin perks up, asking, “So you’re gonna play then?”

“I guess.”

“Don’t be so nonchalant, Kook, we all know you’re excited to squeeze into some small space with Jimin,” Hoseok teases.

“No, not doing that again,” Jungkook says over the sound of water hitting the bowl as he rinses it. “He giggles too much.”

“Guilty,” Jimin raises his fork in acknowledgement.

“And if I’m playing, I’m playing to win.”

“Perfect! I’ll go indoctrinate Yoongi and Taehyung.”

“You know we’re like right here? We can hear what you’re saying?” Yoongi says from his seat on the couch.

Hoseok shrugs, “Good, then I don’t have to explain anything.”

“Shameless,” Yoongi huffs, then looks down at his phone again.

“So we’re talking about something like manhunt?” Taehyung’s head tilts.

“What?” both Hoseok and Jimin ask.

“Manhunt it’s… hide and seek. Outside.”

They all stare at each other for a few seconds before Hoseok clears his throat, “Oh, okay yeah. Well, not It.”

Seokjin elects to stay home and there’s no response from Namjoon, so twenty minutes later, Jimin, Jungkook, Hoseok, Taehyung, and Yoongi get out of the car and hop up onto the curb, the latter covered in glow sticks almost to a comical degree, a physical manifestation of the burden that comes with being dubbed “It.”

It’s starting to get cold out at night, which leaves all of them in hoodies or sweatshirts. Jimin thinks it smells like rain, but Hoseok quickly assures him that it wasn’t in the forecast. The park is instead covered in a thick blanket of fog, weighing down heavily on Jimin’s lungs, his visibility disintegrating into a hazy white at about three or four meters. He can’t even see the playground equipment he knows is in the middle of the massive park. This is going to be an interesting game.

“Everyone’s got their phone on, right?” Hoseok asks, checking his own. “Reception okay?”

“I didn’t picture you as the safety buff,” Taehyung teases.

Hoseok snorts, obviously amused, “Well Jin isn’t here to nag us, so someone has to do it.”

As the two of them exchange playful retorts, Jimin pulls out his phone and finds, to his dismay, that he’s only got ten percent left.

“I’m gonna need a hiding buddy,” he inserts quietly, feeling a little guilty. He should’ve at least grabbed a charger or something.

“And it’s not going to be me,” Hoseok puts his hands up in mock surrender as they start walking toward a massive tree that’s marked the starting point for the four games of hide and seek they’ve played here.

Jimin turns to look at Jungkook with a pleading smile, but he just shakes his head. The older boy feels slightly hurt, but he can’t blame Jungkook. Jimin does giggle a lot.

“You can hide with me.”

The offer catches Jimin by surprise and he turns to look at Taehyung, asking with hesitant hopefulness, “Really?”

“Of course. I mean, I’m the only one left anyway,” Taehyung winks, then laughs brightly, voice deep and smooth. “I always like having a partner anyway. Makes things more fun.”

With their past, Jimin hadn’t expected him to offer, but he’s definitely grateful and won’t turn it down.

“Okay cool. Thanks.”

“Great, now that you two are done being sappy, rules?” Yoongi crosses his arms, looking like a disgruntled human incarnation of a yard that was vomited on by too much Christmas cheer, just sans the fluorescent reindeer, candy cane wielding penguins, and uncanny valley Santa Claus.

“Don’t leave the park, don’t go near the pond, and don’t shout for help unless you need it,” Hoseok states effortlessly, as if he’s thought of this extensively.

“Sounds good to me.”

“Alright Yoongi, how long?”

“Forever.”

“Fuck you, you just don’t want to look for us.”

“Caught me red handed.”

“One minute,” Hoseok supplies, then points in a grand, sweeping motion. “Face the tree.”

The oldest boy does as asked, putting his arm up and resting his face in the crook of his elbow. He sounds bored as he starts counting, “One… two… three…”

Hoseok screams and takes off running into the mist, back in the direction of the car. Jimin thinks making noise is not the best idea when you’re trying to be sneaky, but whatever floats his boat. Jungkook jogs away in the opposite direction, strangely quiet for a boy of his size, his footfalls quiet crunches on the wet grass. He might be heading toward the area of dense foliage where he tried to climb and hide in a tree last time.

Jimin turns to look at Taehyung, arching an eyebrow. The other boy shrugs, so Jimin leads the way to the playground. Their pace is quick, but not frantic, sand sticking to shoes as they make their way to the multilayered structure of painted metal and molded plastic. With the fog, it almost looks like a castle in the clouds. They take the stairs up onto the equipment, the bridge squeaking in protest under their weight, causing Jimin to laugh. Taehyung playfully shushes him before they attempt to fit into one of a few tunnels.

Jimin manages to crawl through and climbs another platform to sit in a small tower-like hut at the top of an enclosed slide. There are small slits that allow him to see out, but it’s too dark to see in at night. The perfect place to hide. Besides, if Yoongi gets close, he can just slip into the slide and make sure he’s too big to go all the way down.

Taehyung, on the other hand, decides to stay in the tunnel. He’s on his stomach, back and shoulders dipping just beneath the line of opaque plastic windows. Even if both of them can’t fit into Jimin’s spot, he’s a little disgruntled that Taehyung is so visible. What if he gives away their spot? He takes a moment to remind himself that it’s just a game.

The two boys make eye contact and Taehyung smiles, causing Jimin to unexplainably giggle again. Maybe Taehyung won’t be the one giving away their position. To prevent himself from making any more noise, Jimin turns slightly to look out onto the expanse of fog covered grass. In the distance, he can still hear Yoongi counting, but the excessive water in the air distorts the sound, making it impossible to tell what number he’s on.

When the counting stops, the world becomes eerily silent. All Jimin can hear is the shaky sound of his own forcibly quieted breathing, trapped by his plastic surroundings. Eventually, Jimin spots what looks like a diluted Christmas tree walking around, colors muffled. He has to smother another giggle.

Man, no wonder Jungkook didn’t want to hide together.

“Jimin, do you see him?” Taehyung’s whispered voice sounds like a shout in such a heavy quietness.

“Yeah. He’s not close.”

Maybe minutes pass. Maybe seconds. Taehyung takes out his phone.

“Turn it off,” Jimin whispers sharply, causing Taehyung to drop the device. It clatters loudly against the bottom of the tube, causing both boys to wince and smother surprised laughter into their hands.

The blurry Christmas tree gets closer, which silences them effectively, especially as Yoongi walks out of the mist like something out of a goddamn horror movie… if the monster was covered in a ridiculous amount of glow sticks.

Jimin stills his whole body in anticipation, which naturally means he suddenly needs to pee. Will Taehyung and his terrible hiding spot get them found? Will Jimin giggle at an inopportune time? Will Yoongi zero in on the sound of a phone clattering against—?

He almost jumps out of his skin when Yoongi pauses practically right beneath the slide tower and says, “Found you.”

The only thing that stops him from huffing out a long list of expletives is a curse that beats him to it.

“Fuck.”

“Watch your language,” Yoongi chides.

It’s Jungkook’s light laugh that follows, causing Jimin and Taehyung to exchange a surprised glance. When had he come to the playground equipment?

“What gave me away?” Jungkook asks, amusement plain in his voice.

“Don’t be stupid,” Yoongi huffs and Jimin can only watch as he crawls underneath the structure, into one of the plastic tubes. Jungkook must be sitting inside. “I’ll always find you.”

“I think that was the gayest thing I’ve heard today. And I talked to Jin earlier.”

Jungkook laughs again, a little awkward this time, but Yoongi doesn’t respond.

The younger boy continues, “Did you find anyone else yet?”

“Hobi thinks I don’t know he’s in the car.”

“Isn’t that technically cheating? Since we’re supposed to stay in the park?”

“Tell him that.”

Jimin and Taehyung are staring intensely at each other, the latter’s phone still sitting on the bottom of the tube in which he’s lying, likely not picked up in fear of it making too much noise. Jimin’s heartbeat is pounding in his pulse points, a frantic “what the actual fuck” smile on his face. This has to be like something out of a movie.

“What about Jimin and Taehyung?”

“No idea.”

“So you just made a beeline for me?”

“Yes. Now sell out your friends.”

Suddenly, there’s a confusingly excessive amount of clattering, the sound of items hitting plastic, similar to when Taehyung dropped his phone. It takes a moment for Jimin to realize that it’s all of the glow sticks.

“Hey, you can’t just-”

Jungkook cuts Yoongi off with a laugh, followed by the sound of another short scuffle, more glow sticks colliding with the plastic tube.

“Get off.”

“Make me.”

Jungkook must be on top, pinning Yoongi down. He sounds like he’s having a great time. Yoongi? Not so much. But there’s also fondness hidden in his dry command, an emotion that takes years of knowing Yoongi to find.

“You little shit.”

There’s silence for a few seconds, then the patter of light rain, fading in from a few drops and plateauing at a quiet steady staccato rhythm. It makes the next part harder to hear.

“What’re you…?” Jungkook’s question trails off, seemingly unsure.

“Oblivious brat.”

Yoongi’s voice sounds soft, yet pained. The dozens of thuds that follow precede the older boy crawling out of the tube and back into Jimin’s line of sight. His face looks pink, or maybe that’s just the excessive amount of glow sticks.

“Where are you going?” Jungkook crawls out after him.

“Back to the car.”

“Why?”

“It’s fucking raining?”

“Wait, I think we should talk about it.”

Talk about what? Jimin watches as they leave the playground area, walking on the grass again, Jungkook jogging to catch up to Yoongi’s fast pace.

“Later.”

The rest of the conversation is lost in the rain and fog. Confused, Jimin turns to look at Taehyung, who points to his lips.

“What” Jimin mouths, still clueless.

“Kiss,” is the word Taehyung silently chooses to respond with.

Before Jimin can ask for an explanation, the sound of Taehyung’s phone buzzing causes both boys to startle and Jimin hits his head on the plastic roof above him. He’ll later find out that it’s a text from Hoseok telling everyone to come back to the car because of the weather.

[Next- the link will take you to Ao3]

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[leelee10898]

Back to you: Chapter 13- Girls like you

Disclaimer: characters belong to Pixelberry, except those created for the story Rating: 18+ NSFW Summary: Olivia and Aria make it to the speakeasy, Aria runs into a handsome masked man who shows her a good time. She also runs into Liam. This chapter picks up from chapter 12. You can catch up HERE Title/Chapter inspiration: Girls like you - Maroon 5

Tag list: Is in the comments due to the aweful notification issues going on with tumblr.. As always if you would like to be added feel free to drop a line :)

**************

Leo sat in the back of the limo staring out the window, swirling a tumbler of scotch in his hand. He tried to ignore the fact that he was still pissed at his brother for what he did to Aria, but he made her a promise he wouldn’t do anything. He would have much rather hung back at the hotel and spent time with her but here he was, heading out for Liam’s bachelor party. “Were heeeeere” Maxwell cheered bouncing up and down in his seat, he chuckled to himself. Maxwell was odd, but at least he was fun. The men got out of the limo as Liam hung back. “Leo, a word.

 ” Liam cleared his throat. Leo gave his brother a curious look. “I know that you two have become,” Liam clears his throat again, "very close, I just need to know how is she?” It pained him that he was asking his brother how the woman he loved was. He had screwed up big time, he wasn’t sure if he even stood a chance with her anymore, but it didn’t stop the fact that he still loved her. He made terrible decisions, and yet he could not remember making them. “She’s fine.” Leo said firmly as he finished off the rest of his scotch. “Are we done?” He asked. Liam nodded as they both got out of the limo.  They walk to the door and knocked. A slot slides open "Password?” A man asks from behind the door. Maxwell leans in, “pieds puants ananas,” Maxwell whispered. The slot closes and the door opens allowing the men entrance. "Everyone put your masks on.” Maxwell demands as they make their way through boxes and barrels, behind a curtain was a spiral staircase the lead down to a lavish 1920s inspired club. Leo broke away from the group and posted up at the bar. He wanted to be far away from his brother right now.

 In the town car Aria and Olivia make their way to the club. “Ok, spill it, what’s with you and Leo?” Olivia blurts out. Aria gives Olivia a fake puzzled look. “Im not sure what you mean.” Aria lies. “Im not dumb Aria, I see the way you two look at each other. Something is going on with you two. If you don’t tell me I will figure it out on my own.” Olivia said very matter of factly. “Fine. Cliff notes version. We met and dated over 5 years ago. Something rekindled when he showed up here and I’m just really confused. ” Aria sighed. “Do you love him?” Olivia questioned. “I…I don’t know.. yes.. maybe? Im not sure to be honest. I love Liam, but, I think maybe I’m still in love with Leo too. ” Aria groaned as she threw her head back against the seat. The car rolled to a stop thank god Aria thought she wouldn’t have to be questioned by Olivia anymore. Aria pulls out her mask and puts it on as they get out of the car and walk up to the door..“password” the man asks. “Umm password?” Aria was clueless. “Pieds puants ananas” Olivia says as the door springs open and they make their way inside.

 It was like they stepped into back to 1925. A catchy jazz band playing, men in suits and the women wearing caps and feathers on their heads. Everyone around Leo was having a good time, he just felt something was missing. He missed her, he knew the night would so much better if Aria was here. He watched as every person came down the staircase and into that lounge and no one caught his eye, until she did. She wore a flowing black flapper dress that hugged her body but moved freely with every switch of the hip. Her brown hair curled and pinned just to the bottom of her right ear, a rhinestone headband on her head. Bright red lipstick on her luscious full lips, she wore a royal blue beaded mask that hid her face but those big brown eyes locked with his and he smiled. He walked over to the beautiful stranger. “Excuse me miss? May I buy you a drink?” His voice like velvet. “Sure thing handsome.” She took his hand and they walk over to the bar. 

 “an old fashioned.” He said to the bartender, “make that two.” She piped up. They drink their drinks as Leo leans in close “You are the most ravenous woman here, I am finding I am having a hard time keeping my hands to myself.” he growled in a low husky voice. She looks over at him, fire in her eyes. “Maybe you shouldn’t fight it so much.” She purred as she brushed her hand across his. He grabs it and pulls her in close he looks into her eyes, his lips crash down on hers. Their their tongues dancing together, their mouths smothering the sounds of their moans. “I want you, right now. ” she whispers. A guttural growl escapes the back of his throat as Leo grabs her hand and leads her to an adjacent hallway used for access to a private party room. The lights were dim and there was no staff since the room was vacant.

 He pushes her up against the wall, his mouth kissing and nipping the sensitive spots of her neck. She moaned softly as his fingers dances up her legs spreading her thighs slightly to gain access to her wet pussy. His lips found hers as he brushed one finger across her sensitive clit before dipping it into her wet center. Leo groaned with satisfaction. A second finger joined the first as he pulled them in and out. His thumb massaged her clit and she threw her head back in ecstasy. She fumbled with his belt buckle, wanting to free his throbbing erection she could feel pushing up against her hip. She rubbed her palm across the crotch of his pants grazing his trapped member as she swiftly unzips his fly and releases his rock hard dick. A growl escapes his mouth as she strokes his cock a few times. He pulls her up and lowers her slowly onto his cock, she gasps at the instant satisfaction she felt as he lowered her all the way down. She squirms against him hard as his tip tickled her gspot. He thrust into her hard and fast, each stroke teasing her sweet spot more and more. She could feel the heat pooling in her stomach. 

They kiss feverishly swallowing each other’s moans. Each stroke was like electricity, she felt it pulsating throughout her body. “Oh fuck, so tight, so fucking wet, fuck.” He grunted, his pumps becoming faster more urgent. She felt like she was going to explode, as he thrust and pump into her, his huge cock stroking her g spot she screamed out, “oh fuck Leo, im cumming. Oh fuck!” As her juices enclose his shaft like a wave he growls, “oh you feel so fucking good Ari, fuck.” He gives into his own orgasm as his hot cum coats her walls. They pant, and try to catch their breath. He lowers her down onto the ground as they both adjust themselves. He leans in to give her a kiss, “like I said.. the most ravenous woman here.”

 They exit the hall as Aria walks out first, Leo follows after, turning his head to the man standing by the hallway “Liam.” he nods and zips his fly as he walks off.  Liam stood there stunned and speechless. He looks over at the woman now talking to a tall redhead woman, he realize it was Aria, and the other woman was Olivia. He felt a knot form in the pit of his stomach. He saw her kissing him at the bar. He knew that she just hooked up with his brother in that hallway. He wanted nothing more then to be with her, the possibility of that happening now was not good, He felt like he might be sick. He just wanted to talk to her, he had to ask, to try. He gathered his courage and walked over to her. “Aria” he whispered. She gasps “Liam?” “Aria I want to talk to you, please. I only want to talk. What do you say?” He begged. She could see the desperation in his eyes. “Ok.” She sighed. “The Seine, 10 minutes.” He whispered as he took off. 

She approached the Seine, there he was standing on the bridge. He stood tall, but his face told a different story. He looked haunted, he had circles under his eyes, his slender body looked even slimer. She felt pained seeing him this way. “Aria, I am so glad you came.” He smiled walking towards her. “Have you ever been here?” Liam asked. Aria hesitated a little, Liam could see it in her face. “Its ok.” He assured. She shook her head yes. She had been there with Leo long ago. “Aria, I need to apologize for my actions, it is inexcusable how I have behaved and I give you my sincerest apologies.” Liam blurted out. “You slept with Madeline, I guess I’m just wondering why?” She asked. “Honestly I don’t remember it. I know this sounds like an excuse but I have been having periods of blackouts.” He paces. Aria looks at him cautiously. “That day, I came to your room and well, you know ” I didn’t know I was doing it until you slapped me. Yes, I had a few drinks but not enough to black out. “ Aria looked at him skeptical of what he just told her. She walked closer to him. "When did these blackouts start happening? ” she questioned. “Just as we started the tour.” Liam put his hands on the bridge railing. 

“I came to your room, I wanted to talk to you, but.” Liam shakes his head he thought back to him hearing her make love to his brother. “Im sorry Liam, it just happened.” Aria sighed knowlingly sitting on a nearby bench. Liam sat next to her. “Aria I love you more then words can express, I always will. Please know that I never meant to hurt you.” Liam took her hand. Tears filled her eyes. Despite all the hurt he caused her she did love him, but was that enough to look past every screwed up thing he had done? “I love you too, Liam. I don’t know what is going to happen. I am very confused.” Aria sobbed. “I’m sorry my love, please don’t cry.” Liam wiped her tears away. “How did things get so messed up?” Aria whispered. “I never meant to come between you and Leo.” “It’s hard not to fall in love with you, my love.” Liam sighed.”I hope that we can move past these past few weeks, and try to get back to where we were. I know you are unsure of what you want, but I will not stop fighting for you Aria.” LIam finished. “I hope we can too.” Aria patted his hand.  “We should probably get back before Bertrand calls for a search party. ” Liam chuckled. “You’re probably right.” Aria agreed as they walked back to the club.

 Aria walked back into the club as Liam made his way over to Bertrand. She found Olivia making out with a brunette man, who she was sure was Drake. She chuckled, they seemed like an odd pair, but if they enjoyed each others company in whatever way made sense to them, she wouldn’t knock it. She felt a hand slide around her waist and an instant smile formed on her lips. “Is everything ok beautiful?” Leo asked, he seen her come in with Liam, “I don’t have to break anyone’s jaw do I? He chuckled. "No, everything is ok superman. No beatings necessary. How about you dance with me instead. ” she giggled. “Now that I can do.” He turned her around, they swayed their bodies to the slow jazz beat as the rest of the club seemed to fade away. 

[thesoundofnat]

Three Times Peter Helped Tony

Tony, Peter

Summary: The title says it all. Ranges from bigger to smaller ways Peter helps.

A/N: I honestly wouldn’t consider this my best work, but I still kinda like it, so I’m deciding to post it anyway lmao. Hope you like it!

Also if this looks weird on your dash it’s because tumblr hates me is glitching.

[Read it on AO3]

Words: 2 463

1.

Tony was sad. He hadn’t told Peter that, of course, but Peter wasn’t stupid and knew what those brief etched on smiles and hollow eyes meant. Tony wasn’t okay. Probably hadn’t been for a while now, but this seemed more current. The wound seemed more fresh.

He knew it had something to do with the airport fight and everything that had come after that. He had seen Tony try so hard to fix everything while simultaneously making sure Peter wasn’t taking on too many battles he couldn’t handle. It stung a little to know he was a part of Tony’s stress, but if there was one thing he’d learnt about the man was that he needed the distractions more than he needed air in his lungs, lest he wanted the pain to swallow him whole.

Peter had been happy to be a distraction, at first. It was no secret that he enjoyed the older man’s company, and god knew he had a lot to learn from him. But his finals crept closer, and smaller bad guys robbing stores never stopped, and he had to handle his crush moving away before he could even properly have his chance with her, and things became slightly too much for his sixteen year old self to handle. So he had to make a choice. Avengers stuff or life stuff. He knew what Mr Stark wanted him to pick.

Now that they were reunited after several weeks of no contact - not even from Peter’s side - he could see those bags under his eyes and the lines on his face more clearly. Tony wasn’t young anymore, and all the pressure he’d been put on was getting to him. Maybe Peter had just caught him at the wrong time, but it was more obvious than ever.

“What?”

Tony was narrowing his eyes at him, and Peter realized that he’d been staring slightly too intently at him from across the table.

Peter shook his head. “Nothing! I was just wondering if maybe I should start drinking coffee.”

Tony hummed, hands gripping his cup just like Peter was gripping his own cup of tea. “Nah. Too young. I’d say wait until college. You’ll need it more then.”

“I reckon you know best.”

Tony’s lips quirked upward. “Maybe not always, but in this case I’m pretty sure I do.”

It was a strangely… normal conversation. Each time they saw each other it was always because Peter was panicking over something or Tony needed to show him new tech. That he’d been invited over for tea had been a greater shock than Tony probably realized.

“How’s school? You acing your classes?”

“Of course.”

“Social life?”

“Other than the occasional meeting with academic decathlon team I mostly just see Ned.”

“Good. About the team, I mean. It’s good that you’re keeping it up.” Tony hesitated briefly before saying, “And how’s your aunt handling this whole - thing.”

Peter squirmed in his seat. “She was very angry with me at first. And with you.”

“I figured. Did my talk with her help at all?”

“Oh, definitely. It’s taken her a while, but she’s more calm about it now as long as I tell her where I go each time.” Peter barked out a laugh. “It’s kind of annoying.”

Tony grinned. “That’s guardians to you. You’re lucky, you know.”

“I know.”

They sipped on their drinks in silence for a moment. A ray of sun had found its way between the buildings outside and illuminated the kitchen table, and Peter found himself watching it just to keep himself from watching Tony. He knew he wouldn’t appreciate being observed.

“How are you?” Peter blurted out before he could stop himself. “And Ms Potts and Mr Rhodes?”

Tony seemed a bit amused. “We’re all good, kid. Rhodey can almost walk entirely on his own now.”

Peter nodded. “So you’re all… fine?”

Tony blinked. “Relatively. Should we not be?”

“Yes! I mean, I hope you are?”

“This-” Tony shook his head. “I don’t say this often, but I’m confused.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean to- I mean-”

“Kid. Just say whatever you want to say. I promise I won’t get mad or whatever.”

Peter exhaled slowly, biding his time. “It’s just… you look a little sad, s’all. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Tony’s eyebrows met his hairline. “Oh. Well, uh-” He scratched the back of his head. “I guess lying and saying I’m fine will get me nowhere.”

“You don’t have to say anything, Mr Stark. I just wanted to check.”

“No, no, it’s- it’s fine, I-” Tony shook his head. “Maybe I need it.”

Peter never would’ve thought they’d be in this position, where Tony Stark of all people attempted to put his emotions into words in order to share them with him. It was usually the other way around.

“The thing is,” Tony started, pushing his cup from hand to hand on the table. “I care more than people probably think, and sometimes it gets hard to deal with everything. Especially when people so very obviously didn’t care back. At least not to the same extent.”

That was probably the most Tony would be willing to tell him, but Peter appreciated it anyway. “Do you wanna know what I think?”

“I’m sure you’ll tell me.”

“None of them deserved you.”

Tony didn’t reply, but Peter could see a slight shift in his posture. A brightness to his eyes.

Peter made it his goal to always make sure Mr Stark remembered how important he actually was after that.

2.

Peter wasn’t sure how or even why, but when he opened his eyes he found himself in Mr Stark’s living room, and the light was way too natural for it to still be dark outside.

“What happened?” he asked FRIDAY automatically, but got an entirely different voice in return.

“You passed out. As in like, fell asleep. You weren’t knocked out or anything.”

Peter sat up a bit in order to look at Tony who was sitting in the armchair across the room from him, his attention captured by the pad in his lap. “Have you- have you just been sitting there all night?”

“Of course not. I went to my lab. Had a few hours of sleep. Went back to the lab. You dozed for over ten hours. Seriously, Parker, when was the last time you slept through the night?”

“Too long ago,” Peter muttered. “Does Aunt May-”

“All informed.”

“Oh. Good. Thank you.”

Tony snorted and finally looked up at him. “No problem. I was mostly covering my own ass.”

Peter grinned. “Right, because you don’t care about either me or her at all.”

“All right, don’t get cocky. Geez, you’ve been hanging around me for too long.” He placed the pad on the coffee table. “If you want breakfast you know where everything is.”

Peter nodded and sat up properly. He felt more awake than he had in weeks, miraculously. “How’d you sleep? Those hours you did sleep, I mean.”

Tony hummed. “I slept all right. It could’ve been better.” That Tony was willingly admitting that was a huge step. “But it was enough to function today. I’ve got so many meetings this afternoon that I’m sorta considering going into hiding.” He waved his hand around. “Never become an adult, you hear me.”

“I’m afraid it’s a little too late for that,” Peter said, the idea that he would have to apply for colleges in less than a year ever so present in the back of his mind. “You should eat too. And probably get some more coffee.”

“You sound like Pepper.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Mmm not really.”

“Then I’ll take the compliment.”

Tony laughed. “Definitely getting cocky. I can’t say I hate it, but you better be careful.”

Peter had to admit that the months he’d spent around the older man had made him much more comfortable around him and his closest friends, and sometimes he had to remind himself that snark could seem disrespectful. Fortunately Tony was fluent in snark and didn’t seem to mind.

Peter took a quick trip to the bathroom and tried in vain to get his hair to cooperate, and then met Tony in the kitchen where a glass of orange juice was waiting for him on the table. He downed it in seconds, only just then realizing how dry his throat had been. Tony watched him over his coffee in amusement.

“I have to make a call,” he said, already halfway out of the room with his cup in hand. “Make yourself at home and all that jazz.”

Peter didn’t need to be told twice.

***

“God, if a stupid phone call takes this long I cannot imagine how long the actual meetings will last-” Tony stopped in his tracks, his cup empty and his hair in disarray. “What’s this?”

Peter looked up from where he’d been scrolling on his phone. “Breakfast.”

“For me?”

“Of course.” He motioned to the toast across from him on the table. “It’s probably a little cold now, but-”

“No, no, I- that doesn’t matter, it’s-” Tony cut himself off with a shake of his head. “The only people who’ve ever made me breakfast are Pepper and Rhodey.”

Peter’s eyes widened. “Oh my god, sorry, was it insensitive? You don’t have to eat it.”

Tony grinned then. Hugely and genuinely. “Not insensitive at all.” He wouldn’t look directly on Peter, but Peter knew him well enough at this point to know it wasn’t a bad thing. “Thanks, kid,” he said as he sat. “I have to leave in like ten minutes, so I was worried I wouldn’t even have time to eat. God knows I would forget all about food once in those meetings, so this-” He grabbed his toast. “-is gold.”

Peter beamed all the way home.

3.

How Peter ended up at a movie night at Tony’s with Pepper, Rhodey and Happy was beyond him, but he was happily (and slightly awkwardly) sitting between Tony and the armrest while they tried to decide on a movie. Pepper, who was on Tony’s other side, was pointing at one of the movies on the screen, but Tony kept scrolling.

“Already seen it,” he said, glancing at her. “But you can totally have more than one choice.”

“If we’re gonna find a movie that none of us have seen it will be a miracle,” she replied matter-of-factly. “How about that one?”

“Oohh, I’ve been meaning to see it for ages,” Rhodey said from the other couch.

Happy shook his head beside him. “Not that one.”

“Why not?”

“Looks bad.”

“I agree,” Tony said and kept scrolling.

“You know what, give me the remote.” Rhodey held out his hand, but Tony barely acknowledged him.

“My house, my rules.”

“Pepper, get him to give me the remote.”

“Don’t get me involved in this.”

“You wanted to watch the movie too.”

“We can negotiate like adults.”

“That one!” Happy piped up, pointing. “I vote that one.”

Tony hummed. “It looks all right, actually.”

“Oh, you’re kidding!” Rhodey was more passionate over this than Peter would’ve expected, but he recognized the thrill that came with going against your best friend over small things. “Peter, get him to give me the remote.”

Peter really hadn’t been expecting to get dragged into this. “What, me?”

“Yes! He listens to you.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Peter blurted out, and Tony snorted.

“Cut yourself some slack, kid,” Rhodey said, voice softer.

“Actually,” Tony said, turning to Peter with a grin so big it almost scared him. “It’s a tie between two movies, but we’re an odd number. Peter’s vote can decide.”

“Do you think I’m suicidal?” Peter asked with a slight panic.

Happy, of all people, burst into laughter. “Oh, okay, you’re funny, I’ll give you that.”

Tony poked his chest. “Just choose.”

“And if I don’t want to watch either of them?”

“Then we’ll never get around to watch a thing.”

Peter had honestly not been paying much attention to the options, since he was fine with whatever. “Could- could you let me read the descriptions of them both?”

They sat in silence as Peter read. They both sounded mediocre, and Peter realized he’d already seen parts of one of them with Ned. They’d only gotten half an hour in before they’d had to turn it off. Which meant-

“I think the one Mr Stark likes sounds good,” he said, and Happy surprised him once again by cheering.

Tony clapped his hands. “That’s my boy. The night is saved.”

Those words were worth the mock glare Rhodey sent his way.

And one time Tony asked him to.

Peter had been in Tony’s lab before, but he’d never been allowed to touch anything, and today was no exception. He hovered behind Tony and tried to peek at what he was doing, which he knew was probably bothering the older man, but so far he hadn’t said anything. That was one of the things that had changed as they spent more time together. Tony got more patient with him and his curiosity.

“You think you can hand me that?” Tony suddenly asked, pointing toward the end of the table.

Peter was quick to oblige. “Of course, here you go.”

“Thank you.” He peeked up briefly to smile at him, if a twitch of his lips counted as a smile. “Actually, do you think you could hold this while I tweak it?” He handed Peter a part of the Iron suit and asked him to hold it in place against the table.

“Make sure to not move it,” he said before diving in, and Peter felt like he was dreaming. He was actually here, in Tony Stark’s lab, helping Tony Stark build one of his genius creations. Ned would freak.

To be entirely honest Peter was freaking out a little himself.

“You’re doing good,” Tony said, and Peter had to hold back a laugh lest he wanted to jostle the part.

“I’m only holding it.”

“Still.” His fingers stilled, and he took a step back to observe it. “I think that’ll do. Thanks, kid.”

Peter was eager to keep helping, but he wasn’t about to test his luck. “Is it okay if I sit in here and work on homework?”

“Sure thing.”

Life felt right in there, with Tony working away and Peter sitting on the couch taking care of his own responsibilities. Occasionally he would look up and observe his mentor, and he could occasionally feel Tony looking his way, but they didn’t talk. It was nice.

Tony still seemed sad, but he seemed to be handling it, and Peter was still happy to be one of his distractions, mostly because he was now certain Tony saw him as more than just that.

[whittynovels]

restore me predictions 2

*"It made me wish I’d had a sister. Or a mother. Someone to learn from and lean on. A woman to teach me how to be brave in this body, among these men" -Juliette gets friends!!!!! -I want juliette to get a makeover and people who give her boy advice and talk with her about girl stuff and ugh girls -She was never this way with the twins it always felt so awkward *Will Kenji get a love interest? -“he tries” -kenji totes flirts with international people -is the ex-girlfriend his????? -tahereh said kenji doesn’t get anyone in this book but thats ok we'll have a slow burn over a 3 book arc it's what he deserves -T said it’s someone we don’t already know which is fair bc everyone we already know he said is too much like a sister to him so it would be weird *Juliette’s favorite color is black? Sounds fake but ok *JAMES AND WARNER JAMES AND WARNER JAMES AND WA -“were you CRYING?” ummmm just fucking punch me in the lung next time -honestly is every character in this book just gonna witness a warner breakdown why we gotta do him so dirty like that -james is gonna be so mad when they find out they’re brothers because in unravel me he gets pissed about not being told stuff/getting left out -I don’t think it’ll happen this soon *WARNER’S EMO POWERS IN HIS POV -THIS IS THE NUMBER ONE THING I’M EXCITED FOR AND SHE HASN’T SHOWN IT YET IN THE SAMPLER SO I WAS WORRIED BUT YIPPEE I CANT WAIT TO GET CUTE WARNETTE SCENES WHERE WARNER IS AWARE OF JULIETTE'S FEELINGS AND ASKS HER ABOUT IT AND WANTS TO VALIDATE THAT SHE FEELS OKAY ASFUGHJKL;; *JULIETTE DRINKING ADFSGUHDIJ’K -I always wanted to write this but idk -Juliette is happy drunk / warner is emo drunk -Warner super concerned taking care of her *More people with powers? [we been knew reaction pic] -I honestly couldn’t guess any of the powers without just reciting powers from twilight or something lol *Kenji calling warner a dick and warner wanting to punch him -ME -Tahereh is teasing so much kenji & warner dialogue that it makes me wonder about them. Why are they together so much. Why does warner trust kenji. What. Help. Slow down *THE KIND OF MUSIC WARNER LISTENS TO -Either smooth jazz or beyonce, there’s no in between *What warner did to be leader of sector 45 -Pressure waves dude??? -No other predictions. no clue. help. *A cliffhanger?? -I honestly can’t tell you what state my anxiety will be in if there’s a cliffhanger -I think it’ll mirror other books where there’s certainly stuff unsolved but it’s not like someone dies then it’s like “aight, see ya next year” *She keeps hinting about deaths but tbh I don’t think anything will happen until book 6 -She did this with ignite me thinking big deaths would happen but it was nothing -I think she teases to create angst and fear but we’ll be fine -I trust her (t don’t let me down) *Another chapter 55 (◕‿◕✿) *lgbt characters !!!!!!!!! kenji, Brendan, Winston, whatever mans kenji gets *nO ADAM AND KENJI BRO MOMENTS HAHAHAHA -Kenji roasts adam at every opportunity *wARNER SPEAKING SEVERAL LANGUAGES UUGHGHHHHH WHAT A MAN!!!!!! WHAT A MAN, MY DUDES!!!!!!!!!!!! -Seven languages? Oh my lORDDT -I’m not even gonna predict what they are but hooooleeeee mollleeeeeey -We get to see him speak “a couple” ugghhhh I can’t wait to see juliette hear him break into Arabic or something and she’s just like !!!!!!!!!!!! *When asked about juliette and adam’s friendship growing, tahereh said “he’s a part of the story and there’s more left to come” and im just like noooooooo -At the same time, juliette is so forgiving I don’t doubt they’ll finally talk *PPL ROAST ME ABOUT AN ADAM REDEMPTION ARC BUT JUST THINK ABOUT WARNER AND ADAM’S FRIENDSHIP AND ADAM BEING SOMEONE WHO CAN SAVE THEM ALL IF HE PROJECTS HIS POWER AND DISABLES OTHERS’. I’M JUST SAYIN G *WARNER NAKED CRYING ON THE GROUND -WARNER HAS ANXIETY??? PLS LET WARNER HAVE ANXIETY I WANT ANXIETY REP -But at the same time I don’t because #tooreal -I feel like she posted this quote so out of context and it could be nothing but I leapt to the worst conclusions -Why isn’t juliette there? Did they have a fight? Did something happen to her? Did he read his dad’s journals? -DOES KENJI SEE HIS SCARS? -Is warner completely naked?? I’m so confused. I’M SO CONFUSED *Kenji calling warner cute constantly mY HEArt *WHY IS JULIETTE’S POV SPOILERY -Is she kidnapped??? Is she miserable??? Is a character with mind control powers harming her??? Is she separated from warner? Like WHAT??? It’s so spoilery that she can’t even find one quote to give us? *THE VALENTINES DAY SNIPPET -JULIETTE’S CONFIDENCE -THE TOWEL -WARNER’S POV SEXYTIMES -FWUJAOIFPKOIOBLHEIJKMF -SLIHBFLABKVLEAJFGFYOUDLHIJF -I was legit sobbing I was so happy for the first warnette kiss in 4 years -(lowkey wish there was more dialogue and description but that feels almost gluttonous at this point because we are so fortunate for having it at all) *Tahereh said she “likes” the ending of restore me -I don’t think we’ll have a cliffhanger, like I said. -She said “I don’t think it’s sad” so I hope it’s empowering like previous books -T said juliette is her favorite, ever, by the end of RM, so I think she’s fine and she doesn’t die clearly lol *AN EX-GIRLFRIEND COMES INTO PLAY -WHOSE??? WHAT IS THE TRUTH?????? -WHO IS GONNA CLAIM THIS WOMAN -Warner? Is it one of the overseas people? MY MANS IS A HOE!!!!! He out here saying “I didn’t have friends” but he actually meant “I had friends with benefits” -Kenji? Adam? Castle? I literally wish it were anyone else lol I’m solid on my theory of juliette being warner’s first everything but the internet and the author say otherwise *It’s confirmed that juliette MEETS her parents!!!!!! Oufhaouhilvgudyahisjkop;pzfx;ia I’MS O  EXCITED SHE’S GONNA ROAST THEM I’M REA DY FOR HER TO ROOOAST THEM!! -Also warner said in unravel me he wants to kill whoever made her miserable as a kid so I want warner to threaten them or pull a gun or something and im just ready for there to be tea -The biggest question I have—more than what warner did to be leader of sector 45—is what her parents are like. Not even just physically and with their personalities. I’m so split on wondering if they’re sorry or if they still hate her. Are they happy without her? Do they regret it? Will they accept her as she is now? Will they learn to trust her? *New novellas??!!?!! -I was shocked we didn’t get one before this book. -Whose POV? We get a kenji short story so maybe from him. Since we get warner POV in the book, it’s not as important anymore as a separate novella. So it’s gotta be kenji, adam, castle, Anderson, someone, idk. james? new characters? -Maybe it’ll have bonus content from previous books in the trilogy (LS PS LP PL SP L S PL SPL S PLS PLS PL SPL S PLS PL S PLS) *The bird symbolism comes back I’m emo -Juliette flying (ie. Airplanes, she becomes the bird herself? Idk) -I always thought it was so weird that the “the bird I imagined is the bird on adam’s chest” conflict/coincidence was just randomly dropped. -Does juliette become adam’s bird? -DOES MY GIRL FINALLY GET TO SEE A BIRD???? AHHHHHHH --i used to want ignite me to end with her seeing a bird so maybe i can finally have my dream come true and one of these books has her seeing a bird in it *Juliette’s powers are still growing -Unless it has to do with killing people and not physically moving stuff like castle then idk. I’m conflicted about this one. *More about warner’s mom, it’s ok I’m just gonna cry over here *Warner’s virginity better not be a hot topic in this book because I am tired and I’m so happy not knowing -Same how I feel with sex scenes like ty for having them but I don’t need to be ~too~ well-acquainted with their anatomy, ya know? pls no sarah j maas porn in these woods, thank you *Juliette and warner get to travel!!!!!!! -Now that warner knows how to drive a helicopter I just imagine them being like “hey Barbie wanna go for a ride” “sure ken” “hop in” then I don’t wanna live forever starts playing because wasn’t there a helicopter scene in fifty shades *Warner and his 5 o’clock shadow sounds fake bc in unravel me when he was being held captive there was no beard [angery frog meme] -Why my mans so stressed he aint shavin????????? He needs a hug and 3 advil *SHE EITHER GETS A HAIRCUT OR A TATTOO IN THIS BOOK -I’m 50/50. On one hand, she mentioned in ignite me that she needs a haircut, but I really really reall yreally hate haircuts in books so I’m salty -Also Ive always wished she’d get a tattoo bc it’s so empowering and she has a lot of mantras she lives by and warner is such a cheerleader for them and he would love it too *WARNER IS LITERALLY THE EMBODIMENT OF CAR RADIO ABOUT OUTRUNNING SILENCE OAUHOSJIKO;DI;FSLDGYHIJ MY MANS IS EMO AND I LOVE AND SUPPORT HIM UNCONDITIONALLY -I’m concerned that he and juliette aren’t together more in this book. She’s in a meeting he’s not invited to??? Aaron warner? More like aaron burr, not being in the room where it happened

[coldplay-kid]

My adventure of a lifetime 💕

Hey, guys, it is only me Alycia. I thought I would write up my Coldplay Cardiff experience. Please be warned that I am fairly exhausted and it would be impossible to write every little thing that happened. My mind is racing, with so many happy vibes shooting off here, there, and everywhere. I’ve tried to write as much as I could about things that happened to me so I can look back on it. However, it is kind of brief, and I will probably write more about this subject later!

So, ladies and gentlemen, here I write about the happiest days of my life. Though words are insufficient to express my happiness, please find some sort musings below.

Most of you may know this already but my life has been defined by Coldplay. Ever since I can remember they have been by my side, through the good times and the bad. Bigger Stronger is one of the first things I can ever remember listening to, and I even waltzed into nursery during the AROBTTH era with a book of Coldplay things and a Jonny hat. I would scream “DON’T TAKE MY JONNY HAT” if anyone touched it or told me to take it off inside. I’ve loved this band my whole life and they honestly mean everything to me. I fondly remember racing back from Primary School to catch the Viva updates and live interviews and Roadie 42/Matt’s blog posts. For my entire life I have adored this band with my every being, however being lucky enough to do what most hardcore Coldplayers do has not been a smooth ride.

You see, I was born with a pretty complex physical disability. Though I often seem fine, with no visible or obvious signs of being disabled, my legs easily collapse and I can barely walk or climb hills. I have malformed muscle, splitting spinal disks, malformed kneecaps, abnormally short hamstrings, and many more physical ailments. In response to having this condition, I’ve faced many challenges. I have faced them bravely with Coldplay by my side even in my loneliest hours, but nevertheless, it took a lifetime to get where I am today.

It kind-of sucks because had I have been able-bodied, I would have probably had more success persuading my parents to let me see Coldplay at a much younger age. I am not complaining, as I was lucky enough to see them on the MX tour, but to have missed the earlier tours will always be a bit devastating.

A dream of mine, since the Live 2003 DVD was in my small child hands, was to be close enough to the band, to my boys, and to be at the barrier of a gig. Much of my life has been spent feeling envious of those who got to do it, I hope understandably so, and to overcome this I have spent my whole life up to this point in intensive physiotherapy. I may never meet my heroes, but I had to see them up close, and I would not let my disabilities stop me!

A lifetime of hard work, however, has recently paid off MASSIVELY. If you had told child Alycia in the X&Y era that any of this would have happened, she would probably furrow her brows and ignore you, quickly returning to watch Live 2005/How we saw the world, or Austin City Limits, for the tenth time that day.

Armed with a crutch and a friend, I managed to see my favourite people in the whole world up close TWICE. Cardiff has been everything I could have ever have wished for, and gone above and beyond my wildest dreams.

11th July 2017

After a fairly long (but worthwhile) journey, myself and two friends (@jonathanbuckland and @blindbankers ) met up and queued for a few hours in the pouring welsh rain. Though the weather conditions for the first gig were not ideal, they were soon forgotten about when we finally went to the stadium. I remember the awe and wonder when I realised I was on the floor (previously I was always in the gods) and Coldplay would be stood right there. Instantly, I was ecstatic, and honestly I still am. We managed to snatch the most perfect position at the C-Stage, and passed the time with party rings and chatting to a very kind steward. The first gig was, as always, phenomenal. The confetti, the xylobands, and the joy akin to electrical charges. We even serenaded Hoppy (Chris’ guitar tech) with Fix You! Though we got hit with beer bottles (some drunk guys were aiming at the stewart, who had told them to not sit on each others shoulders for security reasons) it was still one of the BEST days of my life (joint only with night two).

It got pretty crazy when the band got to where we were stood. I distinctly remember, holding up my sign with crazy joy, and seeing Hoppy and Jonny discussing something. Though I didn’t hear it word by word, I do recall Jonny pulling something out of his trouser pocket after speaking to his technician, and the next thing I knew Hoppy (with a wink and a huge smile) placed a scuffed plectrum into my hand. It was just crazy! I wasn’t the only one to receive a plectrum, with @jonathanbuckland also being lucky.

The C-Stage was filled with laughter (we had awesome signs, especially @blindbankers having a “There’s nothing wrong with jazz” sign backed onto cardboard) and tears of joy. Honestly, it was just incredible, and our group of friends (five in total) was even invited to the A-Stage barrier by Hoppy after the gig to get even more plectrums (sadly there weren’t enough to go around during the C-Stage).

Surely, I couldn’t get any luckier could I? I had waited my whole life to be so close to a band that has meant everything to me since I can remember. I was one of two people be chosen to get an actual Jonny plectrum. I had met up with some of the greatest friends ever.

I was sure it couldn’t get any better, and I couldn’t get any more lucky.

Boy... I was wrong!

12th July 2017

For the second night, it was only myself and @jonathanbuckland . We both had VIP, and after a hearty Pizza Express, we stood in a queue chatting to some really nice Coldplay fans. I even met one of my oldest and dearest fandom friends, @nathanr38 , which was just fantastic.

After a very rough descent into the stadium, we managed to snatch the A-Stage and had the most perfect view. Again, there was a very nice steward opposite us, who even admitted he was a huge Coldplay fan and he wished he could turn around, clap, and cheer! It was very kind of him, but he somehow snagged me Embrace’s drumstick and plectrum, realising how much these gigs meant to me.

Once Coldplay came on stage a series of insane things happened. First of all, and straight away, Jonny smiled at @jonathanbuckland and I, and that was only the start. We appeared soon (during Yellow) on the big screen, screaming and just being ecstatic as hell. Jonny repeatedly smiled towards us throughout the gig, and I melted inside whenever he did. During Charlie Brown, Chris read my sign, smiled at me, and gave me crazy eyes (this was also a fabulous moment I will discuss in a moment). I couldn’t believe, and still struggle to, the interactions I had with my absolute favourite people in the whole wide world! Within moments of Chris noticing me, I was handed a third plectrum, meaning I somehow now have four plectrums from the best days of my life.

So already I had Jonny’s plectrum from (I am certain) the A-Stage, another plectrum from Hoppy, Embrace’s plectrum, and their smashed drumstick. Surely my luck ended there right? If it had, I would be absolutely content with life. All I wanted was to see my heroes live again at any cost.

Nope. I still had four more crazy moments left. During the latter half of the show, I was given a folded up setlist. I didn’t even ask for one, knowing they give them out sparingly. Apparently, there had been some commotion at the runway barrier with so many people ‘bothering’ the roadies with their requests for a setlist. To be chosen to receive one was just... breathtaking, and two days later I am still beaming.

As the show was coming to the end, Coldplay did their usual wave, claps, and thank-yous. Amongst all of the screaming and flashing phones, I mouthed “thank-you” to Will Champion. We locked eyes, and he mouthed “and you too” back to me. He beamed at me and clapped me and I just cannot believe this actually happened. I also thanked a roadie, who said it was “fans like me who make their jobs worthwhile”.

Do you want to know what else happened to me? Well, I’m going to tell you anyway, because it is another thing I cannot stop freaking out about. So earlier, if you have stuck with this giant textpost, I mentioned that Charlie Brown was a key moment I am to return to later on. Well, you see, Roadie 42 was around when Chris smiled at me. He snapped this photo:

Which can be found on their Twitter and their Instagram (Photo credit: @coldplay crew legend Roadie 42/Matt Miller). Now, I had no idea of this until I saw my groupchat blowing up asking for us to fill them in. I finished the gig with a bundle of supportive and lovely messages. When I was termed “their Aly” by several fellow Coldplay superfans, I just felt so amazed, and even an update account said “congratulations” to me. I am just still freaking out. THEY CHOSE A PICTURE OF ME TO REPRESENT THE WHOLE GG! THEY COULD HAVE CHOSEN SO MANY OTHER PHOTOS! Honestly, I just can’t believe my luck. I was called the “luckiest girl in the world”, and though that is quite true (I certainly feel like the luckiest girl in the world), I think I am also the happiest girl in the world right now.

Sitting back at home, I don’t think life can get any better. I think, or at least I hope, that I impressed them because I was stood at the barrier on a crutch having the absolute time of my life. It must be known that this is only the start. I proved to myself and to my family that I can be barrier even with a collapsing musculoskeletal system. I am immensely grateful for all that happened, but I have really fought to be where I am now. Honestly, I have had the best week of my life. I am so thankful for all of the lovely people I met, an amazing crew and band who made all my dreams come true. 3/4 Coldplay interactions, a ton of random gifts, and featuring on their Instagram and twitter pages? What did I ever do to deserve this!?

PHOTOGRAPHS

I hope you all enjoy my small gallery, most photo credit to @jonathanbuckland:

NIGHT ONE --

NIGHT TWO --

My Coldplay stuff (not including merch/VIP package but I can post that later if anyone wants to see it):

Embrace’s plectrum and the second Coldplay embellished guitar plectrum that was given to me on the 12th June 2017 (second gig).

Two plectrums. The top one was given to me indirectly by Jonny Buckland, and placed into my hand by Hoppy. The second was given to me after the gig at the A-Stage barrier by Hoppy again. Both were given on the 11th June 2017 (first gig).

This was the drumstick used by Embrace at the second gig.

This is my set list given to me by a roadie during the second gig.

Excuse the grammar and stuff. I am still so hyper and everything I am absolutely freaking out!! Though I do wish I was going to Paris, I am so lucky for all that has happened to me and I will definitely try to follow them around the continent next time they tour. Thank-you Coldplay. Words don’t do justice what you mean to me, and what the last few days have meant. I will do whatever it takes to be back at a Coldplay concert, and I am immensely proud to be a lifelong fan.

💛💙💜💚❤️ Thank-you Coldplay, thank-you for everything. 💛💙💜💚❤️

[ask-typhon-blog]

A waving sign and a jazz singer

Or, how Typhon started working at the Rotten Rat.

The first day I came into the city was a bit of culture shock. After slipping out from under the ship I had caught a ride from, I started to swim under the piers and walkways through the murk. I had no plan, no heading, and quite honestly no clue as to if the people here spoke the same languages I did. I saw some of the crew on the ship, and they lacked the fins for proper inflection of merspeak, but there was one guy with a pair of flags that might have worked. Perhaps he was an interpreter? I did hear a lot of landwalker speak on the ship, and I remember being taught it as ‘common” for them, but many of the words and phrases passed over my head. How can you blow someone down when there is no wind? It made no sense.

My journey led me to an area where the lights in the boards above peeked through more often, and the water was more bitter, as if many things had died (this was indeed the case as I later discovered.) Waving through pilings, I happened upon a hand waving under the floor of a building, holding a sign. It read: “Help Wanted! Come Here Post-Haste!” I assumed someone was in trouble, and as such swam up to the hole and looked up, and was introduced to the first landwalker I ever met and colored my impression of them immediately. He was a dwarf of average stature, with his head shaven and beard to his belt, braided into three strands interwoven with some silvery metal I had never seen before. Upon seeing me, he promptly lifted me out of the water (no small feat, pun not intended) and told me I was hired.

“Pardon me, you said I was hired? For what? I thought you were asking for help!” I deviated back to Aquan, confused and admittedly somewhat frightened of this man who was shaking my hand, and thus me, rather vigorously.

“Ehh, what’s that you’re saying? Sorry, can’t understand a word you said, but the horoscope didn’t say anything about languages, only that my savior would come from the sea, be smelling of fish, and have green eyes. I just put the sign down there as a lark, seeing if it did any better than posting a normal notice, and here you are! Robert! Come meet the new bartender!” He carried me up the stairs and out of the cellar, to meet the man who would become against all odds my confidant and best friend. He was also passed out on the floor clutching a beer stein against his head like a narwhal. “Ehh, nevermind, he’ll be fine, never was the same after, well... anyway, welcome to the Rotten Rat! Just bought it last week from a lounge singer, goes by the name of Dean Ratman. Moved up to the merchant district you know!”

“Excuse me,” I interrupted, “But could I make a request that you let me down, and what’s this about a job?” At this point I had both regained a bit of composure, while simultaneously becoming further bewildered.

“Ehh, you speak common, marvelous!” He dropped me behind the bar before sweeping his hands across the room. “I got it for a great price, and in the best part of the dock district. Only one or two murders a month, wonderful location ehh? The pay is 5 gold a day. I know, its a bit more than the going rate, but it’ll be just you for a while. Here’s the key, Robert can fill you in on the details, he knows everything and everyone in this town. Shame he stays here now... Good luck! My horoscope says tomorrow will be a bright day with great opportunities, but only if I dance in a wheat-field tonight! Toodles!” And with a slap and a wave he was off. I looked at the sign: The Rotten Rat, Bar and Lounge. How wonderful. And thus, four hours into the city, I had a job with no clue how to do it, responsibilities not told to me, a new friend who was currently scratching his buttocks, and a key for a door while two windows were broken leading to the backstreet. I only had one option. I poured myself a drink.

[cadpadawan]

Day #2 in the Music Challenge

Music Challenge – Day #2: A Song With A Number in the Title

So, I'm a day late, but I think it shouldn't compromise the balance of the cosmic Space-Time Continuum. Not too drastically, anyway...

The challenge of day #2 was to pick a song with a number in the title. No brainer. As a typical 90's post-pubertant, who spent most of the dark 80's listening to heavy metal, I could instantly come up with two options, starting the count from the number 1: Metallica and U2.

Why didn't I start from zero?

A good question.

I did listen to Zero by the Smashing Pumpkins quite a lot in the summer of 1997, so it could be a rather good choice for a song that reminds me of summertime (challenge for day #3), and Absolute Zero by Stone Sour, in turn, could serve as a perfect candidate for a song that reminds me of someone I'd rather forget (challenge for day #4)...

Whatever.

Metallica released their war-themed song One as a single from their 4th studio album ...and Justice for All that came out in 1988. My schoolmate Jarno showed me the music video one day after school, maybe a year later, as the video debuted on MTV on January 1989. The grainy footage on a worn-out VHS-tape rather emphasized the feeling of experiencing some sort of freeze-frame-shot in the passage of time. I had no previous knowledge of the band at the time, and just like that, out of the blue, the WW1-themed thrash metal epic kicked me in the nuts. If I remember right, the music video had just premiered on Finnish national TV also, in some awkward boomer music program of the era. In the aftermath, in the course of the next couple of weeks, Metallica was the talk of the town at school. There was a handful of aspiring young guitar heroes in my class, and in no time at all, the guitar tabs for this Metallica classic were doing the rounds, from hand to hand, photocopied with a second-grade resolution at the work office of some guitar geek's mom. Everybody just had to learn the song, or, as in the case of some lazy fuckers, learn at least the iconic, arpeggiated chord sequence in the song's intro. I was one of those more determined sad individuals, who spent night after night repeating the riffs and licks of the song. Excluding Kirk Hammett's guitar solo, which I honestly didn't think very highly of, in terms of musical taste, anyway, I finally learned to play through the song! Of course, it sounded a bit awkward, played through my cheap 15W amplifier, that had an integrated distortion circuit, which sounded like crushing dry bread, to be honest. The matters of sound quality nicely provide me with an awkward transition to the continued issue regarding the nothing short of legendary lack of low end on this classic Metallica studio album. Some internet scholars assume, that the band deliberately turned down the bass tracks, played by the freshly recruited Jason Newsted, as if to suggest that the band had not entirely resolved the psychological trauma caused by the tragic death of their original bass player, Cliff Burton. A theory like that sounds a bit far-fetched. I have played in a ridiculous number of bands, during the past 25 years. I haven't yet met anyone, who would choose to make the collaborative effort of the band sound bad, for whatever reasons. So, I can fully accept James Hetfield's later account of the situation: the band was totally burned-out. Nevertheless, the herds of teenage metalheads, such as me and most of my friends, didn't really mind. When the album came out, it was the best-fucking-shit-ever for some time. One was Metallica's first top-40 hit on the Billboard charts, and in Finland it reached #1 spot in the charts. Yeah, I'm lucky to live in the land of 1000 lakes, and 1.000.000 tr00 metalheads: we eat cast iron I-beams for breakfast, and shit barbed wire after...

One was also the title of the third single from the brilliant U2 album Achtung Baby, that was released in 1991. The album was recorded at the legendary Hansa studios in Berlin, under the supervision of two producer legends: Daniel Lanois and Brian Eno. Whatever we may think of Bono's later trademark way of playing Jesus to the lepers in his head, there is no denying that this particular U2 album is a fucking rock classic. On this album the band kinda re-invented itself.

When I got my driving-licence, on the brink of the summer 1992, Achtung Baby was one of those killer albums I had copied from vinyl to C-cassette, in order to expose my blissfully unaware passengers to some quality music, during those restless weekend odysseys, when I was the appointed driver. With the price of gasoline being as it is now, I'm not sure if the youth today follows this fine tradition of driving around, aimlessly, at the heart of every Saturday night anymore. Probably not. Maybe they're too busy exchanging make-up tips and eating tidepods in YouTube. Times, they are a-changing... However, there probably is no feeling that can come even close to that special feeling, when you're driving home at 6 AM, after a hot long summer night of driving around, watching your dearest friends being entangled in the grandiose act of mental butterfly strokes, in the whirlpool of alcohol and bad decisions, and U2's cordial 90's hit One comes on in the car stereos.

So, I could settle with either one...

Metallica: One

U2: One

Or, I could keep the streak going, and see how far I can get...

For a song with the number two in the title, I could also come up with two options, that both have some personal meaning to me: Iron Maiden and Jonny L. The latter released some quality drum & bass in the 90's, and everybody should be well-acquainted with the heavy metal classics this first-mentioned British outfit released throughout the 80's. After all, the band pioneered the New Wave of British Heavy Metal movement.

I musta been something like 10 years old, when Iron Maiden released one of their best albums, IMHO, titled Powerslave. Heavy metal was something that my mom strongly disapproved of, and at the time, my family did not yet have a record player. We did have a cheap ghettoblaster, that I frequently used to record contemporary rock songs on C-cassettes, especially after the brand new rock-oriented Finnish radio station, Radio City, started on the first of May, in 1985... So, I had a habit of going to the local library, that had pretty street-credible music department. My usual after-school activity was to pick a freshly released, kick-ass heavy metal album from the vinyl bins, and then hand it to the library clerks. Then, they would hand me the earphones and show me to the first vacant listening booth. That's how I discovered shitloads of contemporary metal albums, such as:

Van Halen: 1984

Iron Maiden: Powerslave

Kiss: Animalize

and:

Duran Duran: Seven and the Ragged Tiger

I guess, you're wondering now, what kind of contemporary metal did that last band perform, or did I, by any chance, refer to the 80's new wave synth-pop band? Oh, yes! I'm talking about that notorious pop band, that was part of the new romantics movement, or something. It was my guilty pleasure, at the delicate age of 10. Maybe it was also one of the subconscious reasons, why I switched my main instrument from electric guitar to synths and keyboards a decade later. At some subliminal level, I was magically drawn to the textures of analog synth sounds...

Or whatever...

Quite appropriately, 2 Minutes to Midnight was the second track on the vinyl A side of Iron Maiden's gigantic classic album Powerslave. It's a kind of protest song about nuclear war, with the title referring to the Doomsday clock used by the Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists. That symbolic clock represents the countdown to potential man-made global catastrophe. When the clock hands align at midnight, quite frankly, we all will be fucked. The clock was originally set to seven minutes to midnight in 1947. The current reading is 100 seconds to midnight. So, in a way, it's pretty evident, that the world is progressing forward – because it's going downhill in every fucking way possible. I've been listening to this timeless Maiden classic since the time of its' release, on a fairly regular basis, for the past 36 years...and I still can't get tired of it.

British jungle producer Jonny L released an EP in 1996, titled 2 of Us, on a prominent electronic music label XL Recordings. A few years later, I was practicing the haute couture art of flaneuring at the music department of the now-defunct Finnish chain retail Anttila, right next to the Helsinki main railway station. I chanced to lay my eyes on this drum & bass gem among all the one-hit wonders at the discount section. The sight was so disheartening, that I simply had to rescue this poor and misplaced music artefact to a good home. At the time, I was fooling around in the role of some kind of an art director of a project band, that sought to mix acid jazz, organic drum & bass grooves, and various electronica elements into a unique and coherent whole. I had written shitloads of original material for the project, that initially started as an instrumentals-only outfit. However, the band lacked a prominent lead instrument, like saxophone, for example. So, when we met a promising vocalist, we thought it might be a good idea to adjust the concept a little. The title track on this 2 of Us-Ep by Jonny L was one of the songs we auditioned the singer with. Alas, the project turned out to be short-lived, due to numerous non-music-related reasons. We never even coined a name for the band. At some point, though, some of those original song ideas were brought to a fruition, with a temporary line-up, that was pieced together for a special occassion. We warmed up for an underground funk outfit D-Note Unity in a private funk-themed party in Helsinki, in the late 90's. I can't remember the year. The headliner act of the party later evolved into Kemopetrol, so I think it must've happened before 1998? The funk party was a night to remember, to borrow the title of an old 1958 British drama movie recounting the final night of RMS titanic, as the night culminated in an impromptu freeform jam session, that lasted for hours...that is, until the members of both bands were too damn shitfaced to play anymore...

So, to cut to the chase, the nominees for a song with the number two in the title are:

Jonny L: 2 of Us

Iron Maiden: 2 Minutes to Midnight

Next up: the number 3.

Again, it's almost impossible to make the choice between two options: Jane's Addiction and Between the Buried and Me.

I guess, it was a pure accident that I found out about Jane's Addiction's alt.rock in the early 90's. I cannot remember hearing the band's songs on radio, until much later in the 2000's. I have to thank the Finnish grunge band Slumgudgeon for that. I never actually listened to this band, but I remember reading an interview in the Finnish music press, in which one of the band members praised Tom Waits. Or, if I recall right, the band actually deemed Rod Stewart to be downright gay for deflowering the beauty of the Tom Waits original Downtown Train. The interview was so clever and funny, I just had to check out, who the hell was this Tom Waits, anyway. On a side note, the musical primus motors of Slumgudgeon later ended up as the founding fathers of the Finnish metal juggernaut Mokoma. So, one day I went to the local library to check out whether they had any of those mythical Tom Waits albums...and voilà! I actually spotted the magnificent Heartattack and Vine album! But I spotted something else, too. My eyes were exposed briefly to the exquisite cover art of the Ritual de lo Habitual album by Jane's Addiction, while I was looking for something else completely. I thought: if a band has balls to put something like that on the cover, the music simply cannot be that bad! I borrowed both of these albums. I just had to check them out! And I think I must've been happy like a dog with two tails, for hitting such a bull's eye – twice in a row! I guess, that by now, most people of my age are familiar with the more radio-friendly tracks on that Jane's Addiction album, such as Been Caught Stealing and Stop! In my honest and humble opinion, though, the absolute pinnacle track on that album is the 3-part meditation on death and rebirth titled Three Days. It would make a perfect choice for a song with a number in the title...on the other hand, though...

Fairly recently, some two years ago, or something, Devin Townsend was performing in Helsinki, with the warm-up acts being none other than the Norwegian prog-metal mindfuck Leprous, and the band that I wasn't really that familiar with, Between the Buried and Me. To be honest, BTBAM did not exactly win me over with their performance. Such AD/HD metal sure had its' moments of high entertainment, but an hourful of circus music was a bit too much to chew in one take. In a way, the band's music was like a perfect auditive match for a bad crystal meth experience. However, my wife later spotted the band's magnificent cover of the King Crimson original Three of A Perfect Pair. After hearing this, I simply had to re-adjust my view of the band. Actually, this BTBAM interpretation of the song is much better than the original. I guess, Robert Fripp is going to sue my ass for saying this in public, but that's the undisputed, motherfucking truth. It's not a matter of taste, nor is it an opinion. It's a fucking fact. With all due respect. The song lyrics resonate in me with a particular clang of irony, now that I've got my midlife issues sorted out.

So, the most touchy-feely songs with the number three in the title would be:

Jane's Addiction: Three Days

Between the Buried and Me: Three of A Perfect Pair

Then...the number four.

Well, whadda'ya know...the number four proved to be the easiest so far: I could only come up with one option: Four Chords that Made a Million by Porcupine Tree. I refrained from resorting to any progressive rock suites with multiple parts. This particular Porcupine Tree song is from the album Lightbulb Sun. I think I was introduced to the band by my dear bandmates in Souldump, with whom I played for a couple of years cirka 2005. I kinda passed the torch, by introducing the magnificence of Porcupine Tree to my wife later, in 2009. I've got my beloved wife to thank for quite a lot of new artists, that I mighta never discovered, if it wasn't for her tireless hunt for new music via Spotify and such. So, just before this magnificent British post-prog band, fronted by Steven Wilson, went on to an indefinite hiatus, it performed in Helsinki in 2009. I bought the tickets, and took my wife to see the show. After the gig, she was a full-blown fangirl. This particular track here might not be the exact Porcupine Tree song that I love the most, but it's good stuff nevertheless.

Porcupine Tree: Four Chords that Made a Million

I guess, I could go on forever...

Maybe I'll just list the rest of the songs, and see what number I can reach up to:

The Dave Brubeck Quartet: Take Five (one of the first jazz tracks that I fell in love with)

Sneaker Pimps: 6 Underground (everybody had that triphop phase in the mid-90's, right?)

Sting: Seven Days (Ten Summoner's Tales is a kick-ass album!)

The Beatles: Eight Days A Week (who's to NOT like the Beatles?!?)

Jimi Hendrix: If 6 was 9 (the best guitarist of all time, no questions!)

Juan Atkins: Track Ten (Techno is intriguing stuff)

Sigue Sigue Sputnik: Love Missile F1-11 (this was in the Levyraati TV-show, back in the day...)

Creamstar: The 12th of Never (A random finding from some discount bin, Anttila, probably...)

Pantera: 13 Steps to Nowhere (It's a shame I didn't find Pantera any earlier, like when I was 20...)

Swallow The Sun: April 14th (from a killer album!)

Radiohead: 15 Step (In Rainbows is probably their second best effort, after OK Computer!)

Billy Idol: Sweet Sixteen (Nice song, despite the dubious connotations, considering the artist...)

Stevie Nicks: Edge of Seventeen (yet another song about death...)

Skid Row: 18 and Life (Nostalgia...eww...)

Paul Hardcaste: 19 (the chorus was a reason for much laughter as a kid...)

Isis: 20 Minutes/40 Years (went to see their last ever gig in Finland, with a fever of 38 degrees...)

Green Day: 21 Guns (who didn't like skate punk in the 90's?)

Iron Maiden: 22 Acacia Avenue (and who did NOT listen to Iron Maiden in the 80's?!?)

The Brother Johnson: Strawberry Letter 23 (via Jackie Brown, obviously...)

Stevie Vai: Ballerina 12/24 (One of the few guitar wankers that I like, in moderation...)

Chicago: 25 or 6 to 4 (that particular track that converted me to like this band in the early 90's!)

Tuomo: 26 (one of the best Finnish nujazz-or-whatever-jazz artists!)

Walking Across Jupiter: -27 (a recent finding, interesting stuff indeed!)

John Murphy: 28 Theme (one of my favorite film composers, check out Adagio in D minor, too!)

Robert Plant: 29 Palms (This too, was in the Levyraati TV show, back in the day...)

August Burns Red: Thirty and Seven (I guess, djenty emocore is my guilty pleasure nowadays...)

Aimee Mann: Thirty One Today (she has a way with words, been a fan since mid-90's...)

Carpark North & Sandra Nasic: 32 (there's something rotten in Denmark, their indie/alt.rock scene rocks! Awesome bands, like Mew, Carpark North, Veto, and I think Vola is Danish, too...)

Protoculture: Thirty Three South (of course, everybody needs a bit of trance music now & then)

Cult of Luna: Thirtyfour (awesome sludge!)

Egotrippi: Asunto 35 (Class A Suomi-rock)

System Of A Down: 36 (is AD/HD metal an official genre now? It should be.)

Drowning Pool: 37 Stitches (everybody went thru a nu-metal phase in the late 90's, didn't we?)

Eclipse: 38 or 44 (a random finding via Spotify, decent enough to include here)

Tenacious D: 39 (you simply cannot dislike this band!)

Static-X: Forty Ways (I guess, you could write this band off as a Korn rip-off, but they DO have a few decent tracks...)

Azam Ali: Forty One Ways (Enigma-esque etno artist, with nice ambient soundscapes)

Coldplay: 42 (not entirely crap band, though this is not their best track)

Karma to Burn: Fourty-three (Some stonershit is called for here...)

Megadeth: 44 Minutes (I'll hafta admit, that I'm more of a Greatest Hits-type of a fan, when it comes to Dave Mustaine's endeavours...)

Shinedown: 45 (this band: pure fucking awesomeness!)

Tool: Forty Six & 2 (Ruisrock in 2006, a gig to forever remember...)

Boards of Canada: Seven Forty Seven (these electonica bastards are onto something...)

Bones: 48843 (A fresh finding...not sure yet, if this is pure genius or not...)

Röyksopp: 49 Percent (from the kick-ass album The Understanding)

Paul Simon: 50 Ways to Leave Your Lover (killer drum groove by Steve Gadd!)

Van Halen: 5150 (The soundtrack of my childhood)

That's how far I managed to go...I counted that I've got 37 of these in cd format, in my personal collection, and the rest of the songs are ”just” in my Spotify playlist, or as a mp3 on my laptop. Tomorrow I shall challenge myself again to dig into the dark depths of my conventional wisdom, in terms of music.

Stay tuned! Cheers!