#i've been meaning to try k pop

[twilightakiishi]

hi! it’s about that top 5 thing :3

do u listen do k-pop? if yes what are your top 5 songs? if no just any songs.

hi!! ik this is gonna sound crazy but i've never listened to k-pop! y'all should send me song recs...:3

i answered for top 5 songs here :)

[minarisplaything]

High Rise ft. IVE Wonyoung

Pairing: IVE Wonyoung x Male Reader Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2.4k Tags: Daddy kink, Exhibitionism, Choking A/N: i said i would didn't i? probably the fastest i've made a fic recently which also means please excuse any grammar or spelling mistakes you find. might not be my best work but it sure was fun to write o7 Disclaimer: this is a work of fiction/parody

Dating a k-pop idol wasn’t easy. Especially when you were a so-called commoner. There were the obvious reasons, like you had to keep your relationship a secret until they reached their thirties, if you made it that long.And the not-so-obvious reasons; like watching your girlfriend parade around in sexy stage outfits and having to contain your desire to fuck her in them.

Or maybe that was just you.

When your girlfriend was Jang Wonyoung, a hyper-popular It girl – you cringed at even thinking those words aloud – the restrictions were even worse. Like that one time you had wanted to bring her flowers at her group's concert in Seoul and had to be snuck backstage with a bag over your head. Or the time someone had caught the two of you flirting candidly and Wonyoung blurted out that you were her cousin to save face. Embarrassing but somehow also cute when it came from her.

All this was to say it wasn’t easy.

But it certainly wasn’t without its benefits.

“Fuck, that one looks so good, princess,” you praised.

You snapped another photo as Wonyoung posed, biting her bottom lips and giving the camera a smoldering look. She hooked her fingers into her hip-hugging jeans, tugging them slightly as you quickly snapped another series of photos.

Honestly, you were somewhat shocked when Wonyoung told you her idea. It had felt provocative, mature even, and thus far each photo had proved that assumption right. But you rarely, if ever said no to her, even if her motivations were somewhat questionable. In fact, you wondered if this was all your fault.

“You left a like on Yuna-nim’s photo,” Wonyoung had said at the time. Her tone carried an accusatory hint.

“Did I?” you had stammered, trying to play naive. “I was just scrolling my feed and must’ve double tapped.���

“So you follow them?”

“Them?”

“Other girl groups,” Wonyoung clarified.

One thing you had learned about the IVE princess was that while she was sweet as a button on most days, she carried a jealous streak that verged on volatile. Sharing was not in her programming, least of all when it came to you.

You had recognized the trap forming but it had been too late. “Well, I mean, just to keep up. You know you do challenges sometimes and appear on their feeds.”

Her arms crossed over her chest, hip cocked to the side and slight pout was all the answer you needed.

That week you had gone without any physical contact from your girlfriend. Though she made sure to send you the filthiest selfies possible throughout. Which, oddly, worked. Because no matter how much you touched yourself to the photos she sent, it didn’t compare to the real thing.

It had seemed like the incident was over and in the past but as you snapped a few more photos of Wonyoung by the windowsill, you briefly wondered if this stemmed from it as well.

“Are you sure you’re going to post these on Instagram?” you asked, after a particularly racy photo.

“Mhm,” Wonyoung nodded. “It’s nothing I haven’t done before. Remember the bathroom?”

“Oh, I remember.”

You also remembered the ones that hadn’t made it to social media and were sent directly to you. But this still felt even more daring than this.

“How many likes do you think this will get?” she asked, coolly, giving the camera a sultry look. An innocent question. At least on the surface. But you remembered her comment one night as you two relaxed together.

“Besides, it’s to promote the sponsor, that’s all. This will get the most engagements,” she added. Her gaze dropped and a small smirk formed on her lips, “In fact, I’d say it’s already working.”

You followed her gaze, looking down to see a rather obvious tent had formed in your sweatpants. You laughed, a flush coloring your cheeks. “Well, shit. Can you blame me?”

“I guess I can’t,” Wonyoung said coolly.

The way she unbuttoned the top button of her jeans, spoke to more mischief however.

“Wony,” you wet your dry lips, “Are we still doing the shoot?”

“Mhm “ she nodded cutely, “Of course.”

She did another pose, pushing the waist of the jeans down to expose the lace underwear she had on underneath.

“You know, I love it up here. It’s perfect,” Wonyoung said. “Don’t you agree?”

“Yeah…” you muttered, more focused on the sight of her exposed abs and smooth skin than her question.

By here she was referring to the penthouse you were using for the photoshoot. Funny enough, she could easily afford a place like this on her own. Though that would only spur on more talk about inequality among the rookie group.

“Being so high up…” she turned her head to look out the window. Your breath caught as you watched delicate fingers slip inside of her jeans. “We can see everything but no one can see us. Even if we were naked against this window they’d never know…”

Now you weren’t the smartest bulb in the room. In fact, sometimes you wondered if it was your self-proclaimed himbo status that Wonyoung liked most about you. But even you could put two and two together. And Wonyoung’s words combined with the side-eyed glance she was giving you were all screaming one thing.

“I could show my naked body to all of Seoul and no one. would. know.”

Her tongue pronounced every syllable while she locked eyes with you. As sweet and kind as Wonyoung could be she had an undeniable minx side to her. You were also fairly certain your girlfriend got off on the power high of being such a desired person but you had never actually confirmed that.

If you were starting to get hard when she pointed it out earlier, you were practically aching now. You tossed your phone onto the couch and made your way over to where Wonyoung was by the window. She let out a delighted squeal as you pushed her up against the glass, kissing her passionately.

Your hands moved against her stomach, feeling her toned abs that were shown off by the outfit she was wearing. Honestly, you should send a bouquet to whatever designer sent this to her to promote. You nipped at Wonyoung's bottom lip, your hands sliding into her unbuttoned pants to squeeze her ass.

"It took you long enough," Wonyoung gasped, mischief gleaming in her eyes. "I thought was going to have to beg you to fuck me."

Your cock twitched, straining painfully against your jeans, "You still could you know."

She must have been in a good mood because the idol looked at you with large eyes, biting on her bottom lip. "Please fuck me against the window, daddy."

Oh.

You see, it had taken some time but you learned that your girlfriend had two modes. The arrogant queen who knew all of Seoul was her playground and made you worship at her feet. Then there was the submissive princess who begged to be pleased until she was satisfied. Often her mood was some mixture of the two but neither one left you unsatisfied.

"If that's what the Princess wants," you growled.

A delighted smile crossed the idol's features followed by another joyful squeal when you spun her around to face the window. Her hands rose, catching herself as she turned her head to look over her shoulder. You could see the aroused flush creeping up her neck and coloring her round cheeks.

"Didn't you say something about showing everyone your tits?" you whispered in her ear.

Not waiting for a response, you pulled her top down, exposing her tits to the cool glass of the window earning a gasp from Wonyoung in response. You pressed further against her, the bulge in your pants pushing against her ass.

"This whole shoot was just to rile me up, wasn't it?" you said, your breath hot against the shell of her ear. Your hands moved quickly to yank the jean pants she was wearing, exposing the white lace panties that she had teased you with a peek of earlier.

"Maybe," Wonyoung mewled, arching her back perfectly.

Your hands hooked into the waistband of her panties, sliding them down to reveal her bare ass to your hungry gaze, "Bullshit. You knew what you were doing."

"Maybe I just wanted to remind you of what's right in front of you," she said.

There it was. That switch up she was capable of. It also confirmed your theory that your girlfriend hadn't exactly forgiven and forgotten about the Instagram incident. Well, there was no time better than now to put the matter to bed. You gripped your cock, slipping it between her legs to get it slick from her dripping sex.

"Oh, I'm well aware of what's in front of me," you started. Slowly you began to slip your thick cock inside of her, inch by inch with each syllable. "The most beautiful." More. "Talented." More. "Gorgeous." More. "Perfect." More. "Princess."

"Fuck!" Wonyoung moaned, her forehead bracing against the window.

"Is the princess feeling full?"

"So, so full…" she cooed.

"And I didn't even get to mention how good a girlfriend you are," you teased.

You could feel her pussy quivering around your length, stretching to accommodate the familiar intrusion of your cock. Wonyoung's hands were splayed against the windows of the high-rise, her ass pushed out and into you. She was on full display and only you were lucky enough to see it.

You could take it slow with steady, languid strokes, gently fucking your girlfriend against the window. But something told you that wasn't what she nor you wanted at that moment. Your fingers flexed around her waist, pulling out your cock until just the tip remained inside of her before thrusting your entire length back inside of her. Wonyoung's body jolted with pleasure as she braced her nude body against the window.

"This is what you wanted isn't it?" Harder. "To know how much you turn me on." Faster. "To see how fucking hard you get me." Deeper. "No one else makes me like this." Repeat.

A mixture of mewls and moans fell from the idol's mouth at your relentless rhythm. Her head fell forward, her cheek pressed up against the glass. Perspiration was starting to form across her flawless skin and you had to resist the urge to lean forward and lick it up. You wanted to prove a point, to fuck Wonyoung to the point of exhaustion for the whole city to see. After that maybe you'd enjoy the little perversions.

"You probably say that to every - fuck - every girl," Wonyoung panted, glancing at you from over her shoulder. "You're probably just waiting to move onto the next idol you're drooling over."

She didn't say it with enough conviction for you to believe she truly felt that way. For starters, while Wonyoung may get jealous, she was not insecure. At least, not enough to ever think another idol was above her. It was more often a toxic possessive kind of jealousy. But nonetheless, in the heat of the moment you'd take the bait.

"Is that what you think?" he said, your breathing growing heavy with your harsh thrust. Conversation wasn't exactly easy at this pace. "Did you miss what I said earlier, huh?"

One hand moved from her waist to slip around Wonyoung's throat. She inhaled sharply, her breath catching in her throat as you squeezed. For a passing second there was no sound save for the repeated slaps of skin against skin as your hips were flush against Wonyoung's ass each time you entered her.

"I only want you," you finally gasp. "Always you."

Rather than another vulgar display to go along with your words, you merely lean over her, capturing her lips in a sideways kiss. It's messy and imperfect but it's also loving and passionate. Your tongues dance together all while your bodies remain intertwined. You can feel Wonyoung pussy quivering around your cock intensely as she moans into your mouth. When you pull back, you look at your girlfriend with a raised eyebrow.

"Did you just cum from that?" you asked.

"S-shut up," Wonyoung retorted. You noticed a bright red hue of embarrassment coloring her cheeks before she hid her face, "Don't stop until you finish inside of me,"

It was always adorable when she continued trying to be dominant after her own orgasm. However, her words had an undeniable effect on you. "If that's what the princess wants."

You returned to the task at hand, focusing your efforts solely on chasing your first release and Wonyoung's second orgasm.

"Daddy," Wonyoung mewled, finding her voice. "I want you to cum, daddy. I want you to cum deep inside my tight pussy.""

You had a sinking suspicion that her words were payback for causing her embarrassing moments earlier. Her attempt at provoking you to blow your load sooner than you had intended to.

Regardless it worked to immediate effect. Your hips jerked, slamming against hers from behind. Your sweat-drenched body pressed flush against Wonyoung, pushing her up against the high-rise window. Your cock twitched, ropes of your sticky seed shooting inside of her womb as her walls convulsed around your length.

Of course the two things that pushed her over the edge would be you saying how you loved her and her revelling the power she had to make you cum on the spot. Truly a representative of her duality.

After a moment had passed and you began to regain your bearings you pressed a kiss to Wonyoung's shoulder.

"That was incredible, Wony," you muttered.

"I know," she said, her form practically radiating. "You weren't bad either."

You let out a chuckle, placing another lazy kiss to her skin, "Maybe we should've included that in the photoshoot."

Wonyoung smiled but didn't immediately respond. After a moment of delay she turned in your arms to look at you.

"Did you mean all those things you said?" she asked.

Her wide eyes looked at you and you reached up to brush aside a strand of sweat soaked hair. There was no hesitation in your response when you answered her.

"Absolutely. And don't you think otherwise for a second."

A smile beamed across the idol's face and she leaned forward, burying her face into your neck. Your arms wrapped around her and quietly you wondered if you weren't the luckiest man in the world.

BUY ME A COFFEE - if you enjoy my stories considering buying me a coffee! always appreciated, never required.

[thanosscross]

hii!! <33

i love your work and i just have to request something for.. choi seung-hyun :)

yk top isnt in the kpop industry after all the things that happened to him (i feel so bad for him) so, when he was recording squid game.. guess what!?? apart from jo yuri, reader. a kpop idol whom during the last months/year has become famous there acting!! oh gosh he is so in shock because he gets flashbacks. and aside from that, our character is associated with his, so he has to spend plenty of time with us

Absolutely love it, I do I do. So let's do this

My Darling - Choi Seung Hyun x reader

Summary: Meeting Choi Seung Hyun was an honor for you, considering you had stepped into his spotlight as a new upcoming k-pop rapper after he retired, so what happens whenever you not only meet him, but get closer than most with him

Warnings: You will cry.

Going on set for squid games for the first time was an experience, especially meeting everybody, yes you had been on a handful of other production, but nothing like this. Whenever you first given you script, you were sure you'd be one of the first to be killed off, but finding out you live throughout the second season was a shock, especially because you had a tour coming up soon.

Walking through the groups of people you felt nervous, because of your management company you had missed your first reading for the script, meaning everybody had already met other than you. You chose to sit in your chair off to the side going over your script, trying to anybody wearing a tracksuit with 230 on it, knowing that was going to be the main co-star you filmed with. Unknown to you Choi Seung Hyun had already spotted you and was standing in shock "Hey? You okay man?" Jae-won (Player 124) asked him seeing him staring across the room "Y-Yea, does she look familiar?" He asked motioning to you "I know we film with her, but-" Seung Hyun was cut off by a soft voice in front of him "Hi, I'm uh..Y/n l/n..I guess we're gonna be love interests" You smiled sweetly extending your hand to shake his, taken by surprise by him bending slightly to kiss the top of your hand gently "Choi Seung Hyun" He introduced, you blushed scratching the back of your neck shyly "O-Oh I know, being a big female rapper in k-pop, you have to know who came before you" You smiled, his smirk turned into a genuine smile after that "That's where I recognized you, you're that y/n!" He explained, sighing in relief that it wasn't going to be awkward you smiled "Do you guys wanna go over a few lines with me?..I couldn't make it the other day" You asked shyly, both men excitedly volunteering.

Filming with Seung Hyun was fun, he was always trying to flirt with you or get you to laugh, while it flustered you, the directors and cast loved it, all of them explaining it's giving their characters alot more chemistry behind the acting. As you stood on your mark, Seung Hyun stood on the opposite side of the scene, filming scenes for a close up argument between your character and his, as the director called action you attempted to start your lines "You selfish!- I can't! he's standing there so sweet!" You frowned, stepping forward hugging him tightly "You're not selfish" You frowned, the past few weeks of filming you and Seung Hyun got close, opening up to each other over wine after filming and coffee before filming. Seung Hyun just chuckled "I know, would it help if I made you mad?" He asked raising his eyebrows, you shrugged stepping back to your marker "Couldn't hurt to try" You smiled softly, he just smiled before looking at you "Your music is by far better than anything I've produced, and you've surpassed me in the rap world" He explained, you both knew he was just coming up with things that would get under his skin, it wasn't that you were a huge fangirl, but going into the music world at first you idolized T.O.P, so after his scandal and and him leaving BigBang you held a soft spot for him, he was a big reason you even learned how to rap that fast.

You filmed the scene with ease after that, only stumbling on your lines one more time after that for the day. You were now standing with your back to the wall, Seung Hyun standing a few inches in front of you, his arm blocking one side of your head, the other had a camera positioned to see the both of you perfectly "Y/n, Seung Hyun, Are you two okay to start?" Dong-Hyuk asked, you were grateful to have such a thoughtful director, any intense scenes always making sure you were comfortable and ready before filming started. "Let's do this" Seung Hyun smiled, you nodded in agreement as they called out action. "I thought I told you to pick to stay, senorita" he growled, grabbing the bright red X patch that was velcroid to your jacket "You're not the boss of me" You stated glaring him down, trying your best to remember what line was your cue to try and get away "Didn't I say I'd kill you?" He asked reaching his hand back, forgetting your cue you yelped as Seung Hyun's came in contact with your throat, pinning you to the wall, you both glanced at the director in shock, almost like children after accidentally hurting each other. "Cut!" He called out "Y/n! What was that? Did you forget your cue or something?" The director called out, your eyes were stuck on Seung Hyun though, his hand slowly pulling away from you, being replaced by his gentle finger tips "Are you okay?" He asked softly, trying to see with the current lighting if he hurt you "I'm alright, it just scared me..I guess I did forget" You whispered, you wouldn't admit why exactly you forgot, it definitely wasn't because of Seung Hyun's voice whenever he was acting.

After filming you were sitting on your trailer steps, watching the rain fall around you "Y/n" Seung Hyun's soft voice sounded from somewhere around the corner of your trailer "Seung Hyun?" You asked, trying to hear him over the soft pattering of the raindrops, you soon realized he wasn't talking to you, he was talking about you. Peeking around the corner you saw him a few trailers down talking on the phone with somebody "Yea yea I know that, but what else?" He asked, you stayed hidden behind your trailer, still listening in, not at all sorry to admit you really cared about what he thought about you, but also sorry to admit you felt the need to listen in on his conversation to know. "I don't know man! W-working with her has been fun.." You heard between the muffled quiet bits of his conversation, you were about to walk away before you heard him raise his voice again "Oh no! No! Not like that!" He shouted, you could only wonder what he meant or what he was talking about, you chose to keep it to yourself for now.

Walking up with a startle off put your morning severely, being a rising star wasn't easy, you had creeps at meet and greets, stalkers that went to extensive lengths to try and get your attention, some of which giving you pretty intense nightmares and ptsd. Walking onto set you gripped your script, you had accidentally slept through coffee with Seung Hyun, which gave him a weird feeling, like there was something wrong. "Y/n?" You heard his voice before you slammed into his body, you scampered back as Seung Hyun caught you easily, steading you on your feet before taking in your panicked look "Hey, are you okay, sweetheart?" He asked tilting his head, you didn't reply, just wrapping your arms tightly around him trying not to show to anybody that you were close to tears. Now Seung Hyun wasn't a liar, he wasn't very fond of physical touching, but there was something about your panicked terrified state that gave him a craving to hold onto you until you were back to your usual bubbly self. Wrapping his arms around you he rested a hand on the back of your head, holding you close to him "What happened this morning?" He asked "You were fine whenever I left last night.." He continued giving you a soft squeeze before pulling away, keeping a gentle hand resting on your shoulder. "I don't..Just..bad dreams" You smiled softly, trying to shake off any remaining anxiety you had "Are you okay to do today?" He asked rubbing your shoulder gently, you relaxed further under his touch "Y-Yea yea, I'm okay" You smiled, he gave you an encouraging smile before leading you over to your seats, that you both had moved closer to each other during one of your interviews earlier in the week.

As you read through this episodes script you mumbled quietly to yourself, unknowingly singing along to different verses of different songs that popped into your head "Okay, remind me when I'm in the studio again to get you to come do a collaboration track together" Seung Hyun smiled walking over to you from where he was filming "Don't play with my teenage fangirl heart like that" You teased, you both knew how you felt towards BigBang as a teenager, how you had posters of your co-star in your room before and after his rap career. "I'm serious, that's some good work" He smiled sincerely squeezing your shoulder sitting down, you just offered him an awkward smile, you knew today was Seung Hyun's last day on set, and it would be the last day you truly got to spend with him, and it'd be a lie if you said you wouldn't miss him.

You had one scene left between you and Seung Hyun before his characters death scene, and you were a nervous wreck, as the director called out action you stood in the colored room for the game 'mingle' "What was that stunt you pulled, huh!?" He shouted, backing you against the wall "I-I was trying to save her-" He cut you off, you did your best to act nervous and scared, but it was hard whenever the man currently yelling at you would apologize the minute any scenes where he had to objectify or be rude to you were done. "Her!? What about you, senorita!?" He screamed before backing up running his hands through his hair before going back to standing in front of you "I'm so fucking mad right now!" He shouted, pulling out another piece of candy out of his prop necklace placing it in his mouth "Just calm down! I'm okay, alright!" You argued, he just put his arm against the wall glaring at you, you took a deep breath getting ready for your cue "Don't try to tell Thanos the great to- Umpf!" He started until you smacked your lips against his, his hands going to your hips holding you close to his body waiting for the director to call Cut. Whenever he did you were a flustered mess, who knew that man could kiss like that?

After filming wrapped you were quick to get back to your trailer, shutting the door softly behind you before placing your face in your hands trying to take deep breaths, you didn't want anybody to see you like this, you felt stupid and overdramatic, but you and Seung Hyun had gotten really close during your months of filming, and it made you sad thinking about how busy you were, and how little you'd get to see your new friend, you wouldn't say you were an emotional person, but whenever you felt something, you truly felt it to where it'd effect everything you'd do. As you took your final shaky deep breath you jumped hearing the door close "Y/n?.." Seung Hyun asked softly, he thought you had been acting even odder than before as they got closer to his characters death, but after you left while he was saying his thank you's and goodbye's to everybody it was obvious now something was really bothering you. Seeing your teary eyes and tear stained cheeks he felt a pain in his chest "Oh, Jagi" He whispered pulling you into a hug, now Seung Hyun wasn't sure what he felt towards you, but he knew it was something different, he wanted to talk to you everyday, wanted to be the one to comfort you when you're sad, hold you whenever you're scared, and he knew friends didn't want that with other friends.

"I really liked hanging out and meeting you Seung Hyun" You sniffled stepping back, starting to bow in respect but he stopped you "Is that what you've been so upset about?" He asked, a soft smile playing on his lips, you just shrugged against his hold on you, not trusting your voice to speak "I didn't think you'd miss me that bad" He smiled, leading you over to sit on the couch that was placed in the bigger space of the trailer "I can't...have alot of friends...I mean you know, and being here, I feel like I finally found one, and I don't know when I'll see you again" You frowned, feeling tears start to build back up in your eyes, his expression was quick to match yours as he hugged you again "You'll see me again, y/n, don't worry I don't care if I have to buy V.I.P tickets to see you at every show, you're too cool to just not be your friend after this" He smiled giving you a slight squeeze before pulling away, you sniffled wiping your face "You wouldn't pay, I'd let you come watch backstage" You whispered, his frown turning into a soft chuckle "Well then, I'll be looking forward to it" He smiled, kissing your forehead softly "I had fun hanging out with you too, y/n" He added on, holding your hand in his gently "Promise we'll see each other again?" You whispered, feeling yourself about to cry again "I swear to you, jagi" he whispered before leaning back pulling you into a hug, holding you until you fell asleep.

Whenever you woke up the feeling of sadness was even heaiver seeing Seung Hyun gone and a small note sitting on the table

'Jagi,

I had to get going in time to make an art show, but I will be back to see you soon! Just over the last month, you've made me feel things I never thought I would be capable of feeling, that's how I knew you were my best friend. Acting with you and all the nights we spent talking will forever be an honor for me, your beauty is like no others, my eyes are drawn it to like a bumble bee to a flower. You give me hope there's a lot of good things to keep trying for, and for that, I will always be grateful for you my jagi.

Yours truly,

Choi Seung Hyun

T O P <3'

Reading the note you felt yourself on the verge of crying again, wanting to smack him for not letting you have a chance to thank him for being so sweet to you, sighing you got up, ready to get finished filming so you could see your best friend again.

--

HAHA MY FIRST SLIGHTLY SAD FIC AND MY FIANCE IS SO PISSED SHE'S GOTTA WAIT FOR A PART TWO!!

[floralcyanide]

— 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 (nsfw)

important note: if you don't like rpf (or fanfic about real people), please just scroll past. don't be rude in the reblogs or tags or I will just block you. it costs zero dollars to mind your business and keep scrolling. tom will literally never see this. I will never send it to him. therefore, no one is getting harmed by this. rpf is written by many about many real people and has been for a long time. if you'd like to file a complaint, I'd love to see you say that writing rpf is weird to the Hamilton fandom, the Billy the Kid fandom, the Elvis/ Queen/ Greta Van Fleet/ other bands and singers fandoms, (especially the k pop fandom. I pray you survive if you do.) etc etc. basically, just ignore this if you don't wanna see it. have a good day (:

⌯ pairing: tom blyth / fem!reader

⌯ warnings: mentions of alcohol, consumption of alcohol, mentions of smoking, reader smokes but it isn't explicitly described (can be an ignored detail), eventual smut, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (please protect yourself with strangers), oral sex (f receiving), nipple play, cum eating, fluff if you squint

⌯ word count: 3454

⌯ summary: at your friend's christmas party, you meet tom blyth and there's a strong connection off the bat. after a little too much to drink and a night spent talking, the two of you have an intimate christmas eve together. (based on those nights by bastille.)

⌯ author’s note: I've been so busy that I haven't been able to finish this until today lol and it took ages because I kept getting distracted ((: anyway!! merry christmas and happy hanukkah, I hope everyone enjoys this (: if you don't pls keep it to yourself

divider credit: @arminsumi | @eloquentreverie | @cafekitsune ⌯ masterlist ⌯ taglist form

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

You’re nursing a glass of half-sipped champagne, trying your best to pay attention to what your friend is saying to you through the pounding music. Being social with them is the least you can do, considering this is their holiday party you’re attending. And they’ve supplied the alcohol that you’ve helped yourself to all night. This is one reason why you can’t focus very well, but there’s another reason, too. You swear you feel eyes from somewhere in the apartment searing into the back of your head. At first, it wasn’t a big deal. But now it’s almost as if you’re scared to move in case someone is watching. Still listening to your friend, you realize you’re unable to look around to find the source. So you push away the sensation the best you can for now. A mutual friend waves at you from across the room where the makeshift bar is. Downing the rest of your champagne, you bid the friend you’re conversing with a quick goodbye for the time being. Hurrying to your friend who beckoned you over, you look at them with a raised brow when their face scrunches up into a giddy smile.

“Why do you look like that?” you ask, carefully eyeballing them.

Your friend chuckles at you, leaning into your ear, “There’s a hot guy back there who has been eyeing you for quite some time.”

Your face contorts into realization. So that’s why you’ve been feeling eyes burning into you. You hesitantly turn around, hoping you aren’t too blatantly obvious in finding who is staring. However, at this point in the night, you aren’t entirely graceful by any means. Your eyes catch onto a brunette man almost immediately, like you’re drawn to one another somehow. The man glances down at his drink before letting his eyes shoot back up to yours, his determined gaze sending goosebumps across your skin. Your friend has been too busy making you a drink to notice the tension but still manages to switch out your empty glass with a full one despite your daze.

“I’ll be right back,” you say just loud enough for your friend to hear over the song blaring through the speakers.

With the alcohol burning in your system, the atmosphere of the apartment seems otherworldly. It’s a fairly glitzy party, so you’re dressed for the occasion. Your outfit highlights your best features, allowing you to have an air of confidence. A kind of confidence you don’t usually carry. The alcohol certainly helps with that. The shimmery lighting bouncing off the walls gives off an ethereal vibe to the apartment. The dim glimmer of the room casts the shadow of the brunette man’s eyelashes onto his cheekbones. The closer you get, the more you notice about him. His aquiline nose, the contour of facial hair on his face, the tasteful and subtle golden hoop in his left ear. You see a small smile stretch across his lips as you approach him.

“I am so sorry if I’m coming off as creepy,” he shouts over the music, laughing to himself, “I promise I don’t mean to. You’re just really attractive.”

You take a moment to let your eyes take in his form as discreetly as possible, noticing his towering height and lean physique. Now that you’re close enough to properly see his face, you note that his eyes shine a hauntingly beautiful shade of icy blue. He takes a moment to study your face as well, waiting with bated breath for your response.

“That means a lot coming from someone who is also attractive. And I thought I felt someone staring,” you jokingly smile at him around a sip of your drink.

“Sorry about that,” the man rubs the back of his neck nervously, “I just never know how to approach without being awkward.”

Butterflies flutter in your stomach at the heavy weight of the brunette’s eyes on yours, your drink burning away any nervousness that had previously lingered.

“I get it,” you match his smile that has yet to wipe off his face, “I’m not the type to come up to someone I find cute. But…” you trail off, taking in the man’s attractiveness, “There’s something about you I can’t put my finger on.”

“Well,” he chuckles at you, bringing his glass to his lips before hesitating, “You’ll figure it out eventually.”

“Oh really?’ you raise your eyebrows, a playful tinge to your voice, “How’s that?”

“Do you smoke?” the man asks.

“Only when I’m drinking,” you chide. 

The two of you weave around the other party-goers toward the fire escape, and you snatch the bottle of something from your friend’s hand while passing the bar on the way out. After clambering from the window behind the tall man, who effortlessly climbed out, you take his outstretched hand. Planting your feet on the landing, you watch as the man fishes out a pack of cigarettes and a pack of matches from his back pocket. He looks up at you expectantly, patting the spot on the metal grating next to him.

“I don’t bite,” he jokes, “Not hard, anyway.”

You bite back a snort but sit down anyway. You take a swig of the clear liquid in the bottle you took before offering it to the man with a sour face. He’s in the process of lighting up, the cigarette hanging between his lips casually as he holds a lit match to the end. You watch him do this, and something stirs inside you. He takes a drag before handing the cigarette to you and taking the bottle from your hand. 

“You smoke a lot?” you ask him before taking a drag of your own, your eyes not leaving him.

He shrugs, “I picked it up while in college. It’s a bad habit I go back to sometimes.”

“I see,” you say, “I forgot to ask, but what’s your name?”

“Tom,” the brunette says, the cigarette dangling from his lips as he offers a free hand for you to shake. You gently take it.

Despite the chill of the night, Tom’s hand is warm against yours. You both hesitate to pull away, but a shy chuckle shared between the two of you causes a natural break of grip. You continue to smoke and pass the bottle to and from each other, talking about this year’s notable events in your lives. You speak for a while before more personal details begin spilling. Like how much you hate your job and how Tom missed his co-stars from his last project. Or how you both hate being single during the holidays. The more alcohol that’s consumed, the more you discuss your lives. It’s only been an hour or two, but it feels like you’ve known each other forever. 

A comfortable silence falls over the two of you. Tom looks over at you, admiring how your cigarette looked so natural in your hand. And how your hair fell perfectly around your face and how you swung your legs back and forth innocently. The corners of Tom’s lips twitch upward as he subtly moves closer to you, his thigh pressing against yours. He thinks you’re quite interesting and pretty- he doesn’t know why you’re still single when you’re such an amazing person.

You feel the roughness of his trousers against your bare thigh as you finish your final cigarette. You swish the remaining contents of the bottle around, deciding that your blurry peripheral vision means it is time to stop drinking. When you turn to offer Tom the rest of the alcohol, he’s facing you already, mere inches away. Your breath hitches as his eyes look into yours. They drop to your lips, and despite your intoxication, you feel giddy in your stomach. 

“Can I,” Tom whispers, lifting a hand to your cheek, “Can I kiss you?”

You sit the bottle down on the other side of where you’re sitting, a drunken smile growing on your face, “Of course you can.”

Tom leans in, pressing his lips to yours gently. You inhale sharply through your nose at the intense feeling of electricity between the two of you. You can taste the alcohol on him when you run your tongue across his bottom lip, testing just how far he wants to go. Your hand reaches up and cards through his dark hair, bringing him as close as possible as the kiss becomes more passionate. Tom’s free hand grasps your hip, his thumb digging deeper into your skin the harder you kiss him. Your head swims as he peppers his lips along your jawline and under your ear.

“We should probably go inside,” you pull away reluctantly, but even in your stupor, you don’t want to get carried away and fall off the fire escape.

You struggle to push up the cracked open window, and Tom giggles at you as he effortlessly pushes it open for you. Both of you climb through, and your friend shakes their head at you when your feet land firmly on the floor.

“I had wondered where you ran off to,” they chuckle, “I see you’ve met my friend Tom.”

“Uh, yeah,” you smile, looking up at him as he stands beside you.

Your friend looks closely at the two of you, noticing your bitten lips and Tom’s flushed face, “Now that the party has dwindled down, you guys can chill upstairs where it’s quiet. I have a book collection you two would enjoy.”

“Gotcha,” you nod as they walk away to mingle with other partygoers.

Looking around, you notice the remainder of the gathering is in other parts of the apartment, leaving the living room and upstairs unoccupied. Tom grabs your hand, pulling you away from the kitchen to the hallway leading to the stairs. You pull him into another kiss, Tom giggling at your eagerness as he sways slightly. He walks you backward until you feel your back against the nearby wall. Neither of you would do this on a typical day, but the energy between both of you is so intense. Your hands move underneath his shirt, your cold palms making contact with his warm skin. Tom gasps into the kiss at the contact, and you scoff, pulling away from him and grabbing his hand to drag him up the stairs.

“Careful,” Tom says to you as your legs wobble. Meanwhile, he’s struggling to climb them as well.

After a few minutes of tussling and laughing, the two of you finally reach the second floor.

“So about that book collection,” Tom raises an eyebrow, catching his breath as he grabs you by the hips, bringing you close to him.

“Only if you really want to,” you look up at him, both your and his eyes glazed over.

“I do,” Tom runs his hands along your sides, his gaze heavy on you, “Lead the way.”

You walk ahead of him, pulling him into the guest bedroom, where the books do happen to be stored in a giant bookcase along the wall. String lights around the ceiling give a soft golden glow to the room as you approach the mass of books. Tom closes the door softly as he enters the room, walking up behind you as you trace the spine of one of your favorite books. Tom wraps his arms around you, leaning down to kiss the back of your neck gingerly. You melt into his chest, closing your eyes as he travels down your shoulder. Your dress has an exposed back, and Tom is taking advantage of it as Tom falls to one knee and continues kissing down your body. He delicately unties the silk ribbon holding the two sides of your dress together, pausing before allowing it to fall to the floor.

“Let me know if you want me to stop,” Tom says.

You turn around and walk to the bed, allowing your dress to fall behind you. Sitting down, you motion for Tom to come over to you. His eyes scan your face, avoiding your intricate and deep-colored underwear as he stands up. Tom stands between your slightly parted legs, and you move your hands to the lapels of his black blazer, pushing them open. He discards it from his arms and to the floor before pulling his t-shirt over his head. You try not to ogle at his perfect body, but your hands wander anyway. Up his abdomen and across his chest until you reach his neck, where you pull him down for a heated kiss. Tom lightly pushes you onto the bed, and you move to the pile of pillows to rest your head. He climbs over you, caging you underneath him. Before you can react, Tom pulls your legs up around his waist as he rests his body on yours. His lips hover over yours, his darkened eyes boring into yours much like they did the back of your head earlier in the evening. 

“Don’t stop,” you say, crossing your ankles behind Tom’s back.

Tom attacks your neck with hot kisses and soft bites, your hand grasping the back of his head. As his body relaxes into you, his weight presses you against the bed, and you feel how hard he is. You lift your hips to lightly grind into Tom, and his soft bite into your collarbone turns harsh in reaction. He continues downward, slipping his fingers underneath the straps of your bra and sliding them down your shoulders. You arch your back so Tom has the room to unclasp the band and remove the garment from you. He wastes no time resuming his kisses on your sensitive skin, avoiding the areas you desire his kisses most. You gasp when Tom lets his hand brush against your breast, his thumb circling your nipple softly. A small moan leaves your lips, and Tom glances up at you through his lashes to gauge your reaction. He admires how your eyebrows crease momentarily in pleasure, so he circles his thumb again. You moan louder this time, craving his touch without hesitance.

“Please,” you sigh, “Don’t hold back either.”

Tom hums in response before dipping his head down and enveloping your nipple in his mouth, flicking it with his tongue teasingly. He rubs your other nipple with his thumb, simultaneously stimulating you. You whimper, heat from your still buzzed body rushing to your clit. Your hips roll in response, and you’re sure Tom can feel your dampened panties against his chest. He gives your nipple a sharp tug with his teeth before focusing on your needy core. He leaves an open-mouthed kiss on your clothed heat before removing your underwear. Still buzzed from all the alcohol earlier, Tom tries his best to be soft with you despite the pit of desire growing between you. You want him- all of him, and you want it now. And Tom wants you. Before you can speak, Tom’s warm mouth meets your folds, his tongue lapping at your arousal. You squirm from the sudden stimulation, but he stills your hips with his grip. A hand flies to Tom’s mussed-up hair as he plunges his tongue into you, his nose pressing to your clit. He inhales your scent, and it intoxicates him more than alcohol ever could. Shaking his head, Tom’s nose rubs against your clit perfectly as his tongue fucks you. Your whole body is up in flames, your fingers tightening in his hair. 

You’re muttering incoherent praises as you ride Tom’s face. He replaces his tongue with two of his fingers, your relaxed wetness allowing him to slip them in easily. They scissor against your fluttering walls as Tom sucks on your bundle of nerves. Your fuzzy mind keeps you from hiding how good his mouth feels on you, and your moans grow louder. His mouth leaves your cunt abruptly before reattaching to yours, silencing you immediately.

“Gotta be quiet,” Tom huffs against your lips, “People are still downstairs, love.”

You wrap your legs around him again, grinding yourself into his still-clothed cock. He’s the one to moan this time, slipping his tongue into your mouth and letting you taste yourself. You unwrap your legs and work to unfasten Tom’s trousers, pushing them down his thighs. He kicks them off the rest of the way, along with his underwear, as he continues to kiss you. You reach down between your bodies and palm Tom’s length, to which he groans into your mouth. You guide his tip to your entrance, allowing him to comfortably push into you. Your hands grasp Tom’s shoulder blades, your nails lightly digging into his skin with every inch that enters you. You whimper in pleasure at him finally being inside you after longing for it all night. Tom bottoms out with a content sigh, also elated at the feeling of you clenching around his length after craving it for so long. 

Your chests heave against one another, your forehead pressed to Tom’s. His enticing blue eyes meet yours as he slowly pulls out before slamming his hips against yours. You gasp, arching your back and letting butterflies swarm in your belly when Tom kisses the corner of your mouth. He fucks into you again, slowly building a steady pace. Your lips barely brush against Tom’s as he snaps his body into yours. Your buzz has now faded away, allowing you to feel him entirely sober. He sneaks his hand between you and presses his thumb to your clit, making you hiss at the sudden stimulation. Your head pushes against the pillows, exposing your throat. Tom lets his hand lazily wrap around it, not squeezing but instead holding it as he grazes his teeth on your skin there as he kisses your neck. 

“Feel so good around me,” Tom says dazedly, and you feel his eyelashes flutter under your jaw, “So gorgeous.”

Your hand rests in his hair again, gently combing through his locks as he rocks into you faster. His weight on you, his thumb still rubbing your clit, and his hand around your neck seals the deal for you as he plows into that sweet spot inside you. 

“Tom,” you moan, “I’m close.”

“Me too, baby. Me too,” he whispers into your skin, leaving soft kisses in contrast to his rough thrusts.

“You feel so good,” you mutter, your chin resting on Tom’s head.

Tom lifts your leg and places it on his shoulder, allowing him to hit a new angle inside you. You bury your face in his hair to deafen the cry that escapes you in response. 

“Right there,” you pant, your hands desperately holding onto Tom’s hair as your mouth hangs open in silent pleasure.

Tom breathes heavily into your neck, using all the energy he has left to mercilessly fuck your weeping cunt. You feel your stomach tensing, alerting you of your impending orgasm. Tom chants your name as he firmly presses his thumb into your clit, causing the tightly wound knot inside you to snap undone. Your thigh clamps into the side of Tom’s neck while the other shakes against the bare skin of his sweat sheened back. The feeling of your tight pussy pulsating around him makes Tom explode inside you with a gasp. You grip Tom’s hair desperately as you milk him of everything he has, his thumb still not letting up on your clit. Another orgasm washes over you suddenly. This time it makes you convulse, your cunt gushing around Tom and dripping down your thighs as you cry out in pleasure. 

“Fuck,” you gasp for air, Tom pulling out of you.

He moves down to your pussy, cleaning up the cum spilling from you with a hungry tongue. You’re so sensitive that your thighs slam into the sides of Tom’s head. He suckles your clit for a moment for good measure, making you writhe underneath him. You pathetically whimper when he pulls away, finally catching your breath. Tom returns to his previous position on top of you, his face buried in your neck. He wraps his arms around you, softly stroking your skin. 

“Wow,” you giggle, letting your nose dig into Tom’s brunette hair.

“Yeah,” he smirks, “You’re amazing.”

“That’s all you, I’m afraid,” you say.

Tom hums, “I disagree, sweetheart.”

He rolls over momentarily, lifting the duvet for you to climb under. He embraces you again, holding you close as if you’ll disappear like some sort of dream. You wrap your arms around Tom’s, smiling as he presses his nose to your hair. 

“I still haven’t put my finger on it,” you say after a moment of silence.

“Hmm? On what?”

“That something about you.”

“I guess you’ll have to stick around and find out, then.”

“Deal,” you chuckle, “Merry Christmas, Tom.”

“Merry Christmas, beautiful.”

taglist:

@barbaraelaine @devotedly-sassy @nowitsmissing @arzua10 @screamqueenpink

[singukieee]

—my all time favourite bts fics (pt. 3) ᯓᡣ𐭩

consists of my personal favourite bts fics that I've read countless of times. including those from other platforms, such as Wattpad, AO3, and Patreon.

For some works that are cross-posted between tumblr and wp/ao3, I'd only link them to the latters bcs I find it easier to read and navigate the stories on those. but I also tagged all the authors I know are here and linked the rest so you can check their blogs out yourself!

I'll also separate this list into several parts simply because there's too many... So it'd be easier for you guys to navigate!

red means unfinished

blue means finished

🗯️ curator's note

(sorted by alphabetical order)

Merilia by saylilirose

"Mermaids are not real!" That's what you and Namjoon hear everywhere you go. It's funny that you're hidden in plain sight, although perhaps popping a tail in front of strangers wouldn't end well for you. That's what you've come to learn. You've also learned, to hide yourself very, very well. Until- "NO-DON'T JUMP-SHIT!" You and Namjoon are joined by others, not by choice.

🗯️ mermaids and insane drama oooh yes

Moonchild by @yoongiofmine (paid on patreon but so worth it)

Working at a coffee shop that only opened in the late hours of the night was the most exciting thing about your life, really. You never had that many friends, your love life was nonexistent, and you just couldn’t explain the feeling of not belonging that chased you no matter where you tried to find your place. It was when seven very handsome strangers came into your life that weird things started happening around you and within you. Could they be the ones to fill in what’s been missing? Or would getting involved with them and their world put you in danger?

🗯️ aaaah so good!!! so well-written, gahh plott so great, identity crisis (human or...?), werewolf drama.

My Muse by Zennnoe

I felt my lungs suddenly stop and a coldness brush onto my face, I gasped loudly clutching onto my chest. Dropping down onto my knees trying to grasp whatever air in-front of me. But I was at dance practice. So why did it feel like I was breathing underwater? I soon felt the hands of my close friends lift me up and lay me down as I try to takin in as much air as possible, for her. Soon the staff swamp me and I hear them talking about her, my other half. I soon clutched onto my stomach and I shouted loudly in so much pain, pink fluorescent patches bloom onto my skin. Yes they looked pretty. But the reason why they were there was not. As I try to reach out I grab one of my friends hands tightly and request for one thing. "My music. Pass me my music." I beg. This is the only way for me to reach her…to help her. My beloved soulmate.

My Soulmate are IDOLS by tinyeyecat

In a world where soulmates exist and people receive their soul bonds (a red string of fate, body exchange, timer tattoos…etc) when they turn 20… Wet dreams are not the norm for Amber. She should not be haunted by men she doesn't know, let alone by the world-famous boyband, Bangtan. But on the day of her birthday, Amber switches bodies with the idol on stage and finds out that the members of the boyband are her soulmates. All seven of them.

🗯️ this is one wild story... aren't all emi ree's stories so wild tho? but also well-written. (epilogue is on Patreon).

Not My Hybrids by Ghosstwriterss

When Y/n is pressured to volunteer at a hybrid rehabilitation/adoption Center, and asked to house 7 hybrids to help them become comfortable with humans and the idea of adoption, who is she to say no?

🗯️ the kind of story where mc's so freakin nice I don't think she's human. but yea it's all worth it.

One Kiss by DuraWrites

In a world where soulmate exist, where you can only know your soulmate through a dream. Confirm through a kiss and complete the bond through love-making. Han Bora just celebrated her 22nd birthday and not long she started having dreams of her soulmate. Correction. Soulmates. Already being a fan of this popular K-pop group, she immediately knew that her soul is tied to all seven of them. It was a dreadful yet thrilling thought as the realization of being the soulmate to her favourite artists hit her. But it isn't just as easy as it seems. Because she was the only one who had the dreams. So She has to prove to them she's their soulmate. And the only way to confirm that is through ONE KISS. How will an average girl find her way to that untouchable top to prove to the biggest boyband that she's their soulmate? Come along and let's dive into this crazy mess of a journey together.

🗯️ one kiss is all it takes... literally

Out of Time series by Alphathyx

🗯️ so freakin sad wtf but that is why there's an alternate ending. soo good and heart wrenching.

❶ Out of Time

A story about a girl named, Hana who has suffered a chronic condition all her life that would soon take her life one day. But with her final wish, she uses it to see BTS, but the boys decided to have more in store for her. Join Hana, and the members in a fluff filled adventure before time runs out.

❷ Out of Time: Young Forever

The alternate ending for 'Out of Time' and bonus chapters

Parfait by fullspectrumfangirl

Alpha bands are a popular entertainment schtick. Handsome, powerful, talented, they sell the fantasy of availability as much as they sell their music. After all, everyone knows a pack is incomplete if it only contains alphas. Omegas and betas dream of being a part of the balance. Unfortunately, this is more than just marketing. A band needs to function as a pack, but with only alpha members, bickering and infighting are almost unavoidable. Beta managers help, but there is another common tactic that helps the talent maintain equilibrium: house omegas, hired companions who stand in for the missing pieces. BTS is a wildly popular seven-member alpha band. They are known to be particularly kind and humble, but they are still struggling to keep house omegas for their pack. None of the prior candidates have wanted to leave, but one member has protested them all. What is the missing ingredient in their otherwise winning recipe?

🗯️ again, idk what to say but it's good! a really well-written story with great plot.

Peculiar Pack by @daydreamindollie

You’re a successful hybrid writer and psychologist, who takes in seven hybrids one stormy night after finding one of their pack stealing from your garden.

🗯️ cute T.T

Petrichor by @purpleyoonn

You had been working at Bangtan Corporation for almost two years now, and not once have you ever laid eyes on your bosses. That was, until you met them when out with some of your coworkers. Now, you almost wish you hadn’t. Almost.

🗯️ courting... yes please! and again, I love possessive mates.

Plump by koozip

Meeting Namjoon's close friends was something you've been anxious about since meeting him. You wanted them to like you. Starting off with a group chat seemed like the perfect way around your fears. You weren't sure how they'd feel about you in person. So when they fell in love with you and your lovely curves, you were taken by surprise. You soon realize that you're stuck with the seven handsome men for the long run. The chronicles of chubby y/n and her new smitten friends. Based around the group chat named 'chubbybear' that started it all.

🗯️ gosh this one's just warm and sweet, especially for fellow chubby girlies out there!

Rainy Days by Peanut_The_Sugar_Glider

Life had dealt you a rather crappy hand, but you kept on fighting, you kept on existing day by day. On a gloomy day however, you feel as if it all means nothing, as your beloved pet had past away and she always was there to cheer you up and enjoy the gloomy weather, making it less sad and depressing. Be it fate or otherwise, movement catches your attention outside. And your life is never the same after. You never will have to worry about being alone, and you find yourself enjoying the rainy weather.

🗯️ despite the title, this story feels like a warm hug.

Redamancy by strawberheecake

In which Yn met an unknown pack of hybrids living on a land she inherited. Feelings bloomed as the pack helped her weather the storm that is her greedy family.

🗯️ another neat and well-written story <3

Retribution by Babydoll_Blue

The Bangtan Boys were known around campus for being heart breakers, but when they made poor Seul-ki cry, Y/N and Mina decided it was time for retribution. Forming a plan to ruin their images, Y/N sets out to seduce them all.

🗯️ revenge gone wrong... or right? wtf am I typing, just read it guys.

Rose & Thorns by @minniepetals

A lone rose, a little broken, until Jungkook came along and the two of you saved each other, and in doing so, Jungkook showed you a world where he shared with his six other mates.

🗯️ a dramatic and warm story. I'm such a simp for soft but strong MCs like this one.

Safe House by SweetBreadFictions

In a dystopian universe where hybrids exist, the government had turned a blind eye to the mistreatment of hybrids. These persons were used, abused and treated in the most unfair ways. To escape the evil owners, hybrids make their way to the rumored district of freedom called Area 613. To help these refugee hybrids, an underground railroad had been developed by kind people. Being sympathetic to these persons, you run a safe house stop for the hybrids during their journey. As you help these hybrids, seven of them decide that your safe house might be better that any rumored district of freedom.

🗯️ I love when the relationships develop one by one so you got attached to allll of them.

Sanctuary by @softykooky

Some people are lucky enough to be born into a family that loves them. others meet their family in a coffee shop while on the run from the korean ambassador, while they’re holding a man at gunpoint and beating him to a pulp for treason against their syndicate.

🗯️ :")👍

Seven by Worldwidehandsomeyouknow

Life is boring. Same thing, day in and day out. Nothing new or exciting ever happens. I just want something, anything to happen! Well something happens alright. Seven somethings in fact

Sheltered by Gracie30102

What Namjoon thought was trouble turned out to be a blessing as he rescued a wounded kitten who would capture his packmates hearts little by little.

🗯️ s o f t.

When a vaccine leads to unexplained symptoms, the world erupts into panic. What happens when one girl finds out she is soulmates to all seven members of the largest group in the world?

Shifted by dailyJinspiration

You were property, a casualty of an archaic law, but he didn't see you that way. You're an elemental witch, leaving the country of your birth to be mated to Hoseok, the leader of a pack of brothers who were forced to come together or risk being exiled forever. They are broken, discarded and angry, they can also shift into giant feline predators in the blink of an eye. You thought you would have a simple life, try to win them over one by one, but there are bigger plans in motion and it will take every skill you possess to keep what's yours.

🗯️ defo one of my absolute faves fanfic in 2024. it's got intricate issues, steamy scenes, sassy and strong witch mc, and the guys as hybrids. writing's so neat!

Soulmate to You by OT7oramI

🗯️ another well-written soulmate story! this synopsis doesn't give justice to this freaking good story so just read it please.

Spring Day by @nunchiimagines

Becoming a part time english teacher wasn’t exactly the ideal startup you had hoped for yourself when you first moved to Seoul, South Korea. Luckily, you loved working with children and you were grateful to have found a well paying job with housing included so soon after university. Amongst your class, however, are 5 boys who seem to be constantly ostracized not only by the rest of the students but also by the other teachers and staff members. Becoming attached to you fairly quickly, you’re unintentionally tasked to be their permanent caretaker during their stay at school, even staying past the hours you were needed until they were picked up safely. However, what you didn’t expect was to catch the hearts of their seven older brothers, the leaders of a notorious and well known mafia family in Korea.

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 4 | NAVI

[songmingisthighs]

Maudit

introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii

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ch. xxxv - BLATANT LIE

cursed!jongho × reader

genre : mythology!au, smau

rating : mature; crude jokes and filthy language

buy me coffee ?

tw : old views, name-calling, slight stereotyping, mentions of how things were in the past, reminiscing the past

wc : 1.6 k

so long i've been here, so long are the stories i've written. of what i gathered and lost, loneliness becomes me and pain refuse to depart from me. i've embraced that which ate me away so when you came along, i had no part of me left to give.

Lately, whenever you came back home from work, rather than fatigued, you simply felt giddy. Work had become less of a responsibility and more like a friend hang-out you were paid to do. It was even comparable to the study sessions you and your friends usually have where you did have responsibilities to tend to but you had so much fun doing it.

Maybe Hyunjin was right. Maybe Jongho WAS your sugar daddy.

What kind of a boss would just instinctively take his car keys, grab your bag, and ask "We're trying that new sushi restaurant you talked about yesterday, right?" the moment your working hour ended. Not to mention the fact that Jongho had been driving you home every single day which may or may not have caused Mingi to turn into such a big baby, showing up at your place at 10 pm in his PJs with a deep frown on his face and stated that since you have replaced him with your boss, he now has the right to claim roommateship so he can get his fill of his best friend which caused you to sit him down with some milk and cookies and explain that your boss was not in the best headspace and you wanted to help him just like how you helped Mingi when he lost the ticketing war to his anime convention thing, like a toddler.

So even now, after spending yet another evening out having dinner with Jongho, distracting him from the pit that was his anxiety, you felt a sense of fulfilment.

"Hey pops, I'm home!" you called out the moment you got inside the house. Upon locking the front door, you heard sounds from the living room and you realized that must mean your grand uncle had spent time watching the tv with the caretaker before he went home. So you went over and just as you had suspected, your grand uncle sat bundled up in a blanket and his pyjamas on his wheelchair, watching some old movie about the war with his gaze seemingly zoning. You couldn't help but chuckle as you went over to sit down on the couch near him. "Are you even watching the movie, gramps?" you teased. Your grand uncle slowly turned his head and scoffed, "Watching? I lived through that war, you damn brat! I was barely a teen when I was dragged out of my father's rice paddy and shipped off to capital to defend my country! I was so green, I farted out grass! But even then, I managed-" "You managed to grab a general by the balls and knock his sorry ass to the ground, I remember the bedtime stories you old fart," you smirked which made him chuckle.

That was the relationship you had with your grand uncle. He was a no-nonsense guy who had proudly built a life for himself so even when you were merely five years old, he would not adhere to your temper tantrums when he wouldn't let you eat chocolate after 8 pm. He was not built to be a parent, that was obvious to everyone which was why he never did got married and he never had children. You were sure he was asexual or was just wound up to tight to actually understand what sex is or perhaps his scary demeanour scared any and every girl he tried to approach. But still, he raised you as best as he could with no complaints and that was something you will always be thankful to him for.

"Did you have a good day today?" You asked. He raised an eyebrow at you and frowned, "The little fruitcake you forced as my caretaker almost dropped me in the bathtub today, how do you think my day was?" You couldn't help but roll your eyes at the way he addressed the quirky Gen Z caretaker who matched his freak, "Gramps, that's offensive. You can't just say the word fruitcake so casually to address people behind their backs!" you scolded. Your grand uncle let out a sound of discontent as he waved his hands, "I call him fruitcake to his face and he called me a turtle ballsack to my face, it's all good fun! You people are so soft nowadays with your feelings and pushing your dislikes onto people and making them feel bad for the feelings you have, I have to wonder how do you communicate? Back then, we mocked each other's ancestors and wished the other would get cursed and by the evening, we pretended like nothing happened and we move on. That is how people should have kept being. Not these... Emotional cushions to avoid facing reality just because you don't like them," he scoffed.

You were about to retaliate when his words dawned on him, and then as you gazed at his face, facts started dawning on you as well. A long pause caused your question to hang in the air but the more you looked at him, the more you couldn't help but think of a certain someone who was also an old soul.

So, you blurted out, "What was it like?" "What was what like?" "What was the past like?" Your grand uncle narrowed his eyes at you and poked you on the knee with his bony finger, "Are you asking me to mock me, girl? I could have you investigated for elder abuse!" You scoffed and lightly tapped his wheelchair armrest, sending a vibration to him, "I'm serious gramps, I wanna know how it was back then! Particularly compared to now, is it... Hard for you to adjust to time? Did you... ever worry? Did you miss what you had back then?"

Sensing your genuine curiosity, your grand unlce exhaled slowly and leaned his body back on his wheelchair, joining his hands together in the middle as his elbows rested on the armrests. "The short answer is, it was the me that I lost," he stated confidently. You remained silent but kept your whole focus on him, urging him wordlessly to explain himself. "The past... Back then... I was a different person, obviously. I was abrasive, I was a shark, and I was unforgiving. I was a power to be reckoned with and you can see that with how people have often come to me to kiss my ass to get me to help them which was fine but I find that time mellowed me down a lot. When you were young, time moved slowly but as you grow older, time suddenly moves at a pace where you can't keep up so I feel... I feel that time has forced me to be slow without my consent." "Do you hate it?" "Do I hate time? I resent it. I resent time for allowing me to age to this point, a point where I can't even go to the bathroom by myself. But in a sense, I had to thank it for everything it had given me for without it, I would not have developed the character I needed to take you in and dear girl, while you can be a headache to handle when you were still growing up," a scoff from your lips cut his words but he smiled as he took notice of the small smile blooming in your face, "I will never resent it for bringing you to me."

By the end of his words, you were tearing up and thankfully your grand uncle took notice as he took your hand in his and patted your skin gently. His words struck deep because while you knew he was thankful to have you, the circumstance that brought you to him was unfair, bordering on cruel. "Why would you thank time for me? Why would you thank time for cutting my parents' life so short? Why couldn't have time let me be with my parents longer? You were allowed to have vast memories about the past when I can't even remember my parents. I hate it, I hate that I was too young to remember them," you shakily said as tears poured down your face slowly. Your grand uncle furrowed his eyebrows, "Time did not take your parents, girl, the gods did. Time is not cruel as it has no whims, it has no intention, its flow allows us to move forward instead of being torn between the past and the future. Time, as cruel as it seem to us and as much as we, I, resent it, I don't blame it and neither should you. You studied history so you should know better than others that the gods... They like to play with us mortals, they like to impose themselves on us and so, don't you blame time for your parents, you hear me? You may, however, blame it for my bad back because back then I could spend an entire afternoon catching tadpoles and insects but now I can't even bend down to put my sock on." You couldn't help but chuckle at his attempt of making you feel better and while you wanted to retaliate, you wanted to tell him how you know some of the gods he was talking about and they weren't half as bad, you figured it wasn't the time and also that he probably wouldn't believe you either. So you kept your mouth shut and nodded.

It was a known fact that your grand uncle hated seeing people crying but for you, he was okay with it. Or perhaps he had gotten used to it so much so that he was desensitized to it. But anyway, he waited until you calmed down for a bit before he patted your hand again, "You should get cleaned up, girl. Wash the stink of the day off of you because it's burning my eyes. No wonder no man has taken claim of you yet." And there he was. Almost automatically, your tears dried up as your eyes rolled, "Better my stench of hard work than yours. What is that, despair and misery eau de toilette by death?" you poked back as you stood up. "Try parfum you brat, I have the money to get the top-shelf shit, not the watered-down piss your giant twink often parades in my house," he snickered.

Even with the name-calling, no matter how seemingly harsh they were, you knew he loved you and he tolerated Mingi. He was just so allergic to positive emotions that he had to resort to his natural instinct to cancel them all out. He was a sad man before you came, alone and stuck dealing with people trying to exploit him so you learnt to navigate through that. Just like another man you knew.

With a hug, you bid good night to your grand uncle, offering to wheel him out to his room (or out his driveway to be taken by the garbage truck in the morning) but he denied, saying he wanted to give his caretaker something to shriek about in the morning, letting you know that a bit of fun would be interesting. You simply chuckle and agreed because from your experience with him, you knew he was right.

network :

@cultofdionysus @sandsofire @kflixnet @pirateeznet

taglist :

@dinossaurz @redzie02 @stayatinykatsy @tinyelfperson @allisonleannn @yukichan67 @phenomenalgirl9 @dawn-iscozy @aestheticsluut @krustycangrejo @teenyfinds @kirbrary @thedistractedwriter @gxlden-bxbyy @huachengsbestie01 @charreddonuts @that-irrelevant-ricecakeaddict @velvetskize @do-you-remember-summer-127 @borahae-reads @domfikeluva @hwalighters @akunoeyebrows

@roronoas-wife

[imaginespazzi]

Part 1: Don't Be A Stranger

Masterlist - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

But if (my) world was ending, you'd come over right?

(In which UCLA anon's roman empire became this writer's roman empire and we've finally reached the beginning)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Pining, Hurt/Comfort and a little bit of Fluff

Words: 8.4 K (other parts will be shorter....maybe)

TW: Swearing, Alcohol, Injuries, Alludes to Sexual Content

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 Gonna keep this as short and sweet as possible but we've finally, finally gotten to the UCLA fic. A huge shout out to UCLA anon, because this is their master idea. Couple of things, I've never been to LA or UCLA and therefore some things are out of whack. The timeline is also a little out of whack but I swear I will try to keep it as consistent as possible. In the mean time, just ignore some of the inconsistencies pretty please. As always, feel free to let me know what's bad, what's good and what else you'd like to see. I hope y'all enjoy this first part and let's get another W today!

August 2021

where are you 

i literally have to be at the airport in an hour paige where are you 

dude 

are you on your way?

you better be driving and that’s why you’re not answering 

PAIGE

i’m sorry about last night i shouldn’t have said that 

but you said a lot of shit too so call it even?

this isn’t funny where are you?

i have to leave in 15 mins 

are you actually not coming?

wtf????

this is actually bullshit

get over yourself bueckers 

wow 

fuck you

just landed 

thought you might like to know 

sorry my plane didn’t crash i guess 

September 2021

dude enough okay 

can you just call me back??

i just wanna talk 

i know you're mad i get it but i miss you   

November 2021 

hi i’mma be in dc over christmas

nvm 

idk why i’m trying again  

maybe i should block you 

this is kinda pathetic of me what the fuck 

December 2021

i thought i saw you today but idk

couldn’t have been you cause if it was 

would you really not even say hi?

i’m done trying paige 

merry christmas i guess

March 2022 

i misz you 

lyke a wot

love uuuuu pppppp

even if ur a bwtich 

pkese pick up 

ignore that 

people drunk text exes apparently i drunk text you 

wait 

i don’t need to tell you that 

you already ignore it all anyways

 

August 2022 

i heard about the acl 

i’m sorry 

idk if it means anything, but if you wanna talk

nvm 

***

September 2022 

When the doorbell rings, on a quiet Thursday afternoon during a rare moment of alone time, Paige expects it to be a lot of people. One of her parents deciding that they actually weren’t going to leave her alone. Someone else in her family showing up out of the blue to provide comfort. Maybe one of her teammates popping up to keep her entertained. She even thinks it might be some random fan who got too invested and figured out the address for her air BnB. It’s the saddest testament to how broken they are, that the idea of it being Azzi Fudd standing outside her door, never once crosses her mind. But there she is, when Paige opens the door, dressed in ripped jean shorts and a light blue tank top, the girl that had been her best friend, and maybe a little bit more. 

Silence stretches between them as Azzi fidgets with her hands and Paige continues to stoically stare at her. It’s been almost a year since they’ve seen each other, even longer since they’d last shared a happy smile. And you’d have to go back to before she’d told her about her future plans, to find the last time Azzi had properly looked Paige in the eyes.  

“Hi,” Azzi says finally, mustering up a small smile. Paige doesn’t know if hearing that voice, soft and subdued but still so familiar, fixes a crack or breaks her heart even further. She wills herself to be polite in response, to match Azzi’s polite greeting with a greeting of her own. But there’s clear discord between her mouth and her head, because her words are harsh and hollowed. 

“What are you doing here?”

Azzi swallows, smile disappearing as she immediately digs her fingernails into her palms and Paige feels the guilt settle into her stomach. It’s like the night before all over again. If she closes her eyes, Paige can still hear her voice loudly echoing in Azzi’s childhood bedroom. She can hear the angry words that she’d hurled at her best friend, each one like a well-aimed arrow piercing the other’s girl's heart and tearing into Paige’s own soul. Some would call what she’d done self-preservation. She’d call it her biggest mistake. 

“I um-,” Azzi sucks in her bottom lip, “I was in the area and thought, maybe I’d check in.”

“How did you even know where I was?” Paige hates how cold and accusatory her voice sounds. It’s a version of herself she doesn’t quite know how to deal with, one that hasn’t ever appeared for anyone other than the girl in front of her, “I know I didn’t tell you.”

Any semblance of calm is gone from Azzi’s face, as she seems to realise that she’s not going to be getting any cordiality from her old friend. 

 “And we’re off to a great start,” she mutters under her breath before replying to Paige’s exact question, “no you didn’t. Your dad-”

“You talked to my dad?”

“Yeah. I mean you know Drew looks up to Jon and José so much and they still talk and stuff and he came over- Drew I mean- and then your dad was there and we just got to talking and you came up and yeah. He told me and well I live here, kinda, so I thought- well I thought maybe you’d like some company?”

As Azzi’s rambling explanation comes to an end, Paige doesn’t miss the tinge of hopefulness in her voice at the last bit. The younger girl shuffles her feet, as she stares at the blonde expectantly. 

“I don’t-” Paige struggles to draw in a breath as the voices in her head argue, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Her words are met with silence as Azzi stares at her blankly. 

“I- you,” she blinks rapidly, clearly at a loss for what to say at the blatant rejection, “I can’t come in?”

“It’s just- I’ve had a lot of people visit you know,” Paige bullshits, suddenly feeling very exhausted, “and my family were here a couple days and my friends are coming soon and-”

“And I’m neither of those things,” Azzi says, her tone low and breathy. 

“That’s not what-”

“It is,” Azzi closes her eyes for a brief second, when she opens them, the flash of hurt in them feels like a dagger through Paige’s chest, “it is like that and it is what you meant and it’s- it’s fine.”

“Az-” Paige chokes out, feeling her lungs collapse when the other girl moves to leave, “please,” and she’s not even sure she’s asking for, but it’s not this. It’s never been this.

Azzi stops and when she turns back around, there’s a determined look on her face.

“I just-” she rubs her face, composing herself before focusing her eyes on Paige, “you’re the strongest person I know. And you’re going to come back from this, better than ever. I know it. The whole world knows it. Because you’re Paige Bueckers. You’re something else.  You’re the hardest worker, you’re just- you’re the best.”

“You don’t-”

“Just- just let me finish okay and then, then I’ll go or whatever but Paige, you’re all of those things you know? Strong, brave, the best fucking player- but, it’s also okay if sometimes-, if sometimes you aren’t. It’s okay because this- this is hard, I know it is. So if sometimes you’re not strong or-, or brave- or not feeling like working hard- it’s okay. And if there are moments where you- where you want to give up, that’s okay too. It doesn’t make you- it doesn’t make you any less than what you are. It just makes you human, and it’s okay you know- to be human. It’s okay if- if you hurt and it’s okay if you’re not okay. It’s- it’s okay.”

The two girls stare at each other, eyes shining with tears, as Paige let’s Azzi’s words wash over her. She’s been told a lot of platitudes about her injury, from her coaches to her teammates to her family. And she knows she has plenty of people in her corner, who root for her and who genuinely do believe she’ll have the greatest comeback ever. But the motivational speeches get draining after a while and all she’s wanted to do for the last couple of weeks is wallow. Then she felt guilty about wallowing, that little voice in her head yelling at her to be productive and work on getting back to herself because that’s what everybody expected. Paige hadn’t even realised how badly she needed someone to give her permission to not be okay, not until the only person who’d ever known that part of her, had finally said the words she so desperately needed to hear.

The thing is, when she was younger, Paige used to keep everything bottled inside. She’d always been hyper aware of her privilege and her problems had always just seemed so insignificant in front of her parents’ or her friends. So she’d kept them to herself, trapping herself in a web of her own burdens that sometimes threatened to strangle her. And then she’d met a girl at a USA basketball camp when she was 15, a girl who had gently flicked her fingers and Paige’s walls had fallen like dominoes. She hadn’t even known she was drowning, until Azzi had shown up with a lifeboat.

“I just-,” Azzi breaks Paige out of her trance by breaking the eye contact between them, “I didn’t know if anybody had said that to you yet and I just- I wanted you to hear it.”

In the span of a minute, a thousand and one phrases take birth in Paige’s mind and then die on the tip of her tongue. She opens and closes her mouth, trying to express even one of the myriad of emotions that are swirling like a tornado in her brain. But nothing comes out except a litany of incomprehensible noises. And Azzi seems to find the wrong answer in the silence, giving the blonde a timid nod. 

“Take care of yourself P,” her voice catches on the familiar nickname, as she shoots Paige a sad smile, before beginning to walk away. When Azzi chose UCLA, she’d lit Paige's heart on fire. So, Paige had drowned their friendship. And while all this time Azzi has struggled to breathe, Paige has burned but god, is she so fucking tired of it. 

“Fuck, Azzi wait,” Paige curses, hobbling to catch up to the brunette, who stops with a sigh but doesn’t make a move to return. Stubborn as always, Paige thinks, continuing her way over. When she does catch up, she’s not fully sure what to say and so,  “I uh- I’m out of milk.”

Azzi raises her eyebrows in question, crossing her arms protectively around her chest. 

“I can’t drive,” Paige explains slowly, “or walk obviously.”

Realisation dawns on Azzi’s face, “you’re asking me to drive you to the grocery store?”

“I guess,” Paige shrugs, trying to be nonchalant. 

“Seems like the kind of favour someone asks of their family, or their friends,” Azzi emphasises bitterly, never one to let go of an opportunity for sarcasm. 

Paige flinches, “right, I kinda deserved that one.”

She gets a raised eyebrow in response that very much says “ya think?”

“I’m trying here,” she says quietly, and Azzi’s hard demeanour softens, “I’m raising a white flag Az, calling a truce or whatever but it kinda needs to go both ways.” 

“What do you think me coming here was supposed to be?” the younger girl says exasperatedly, but she’s smiling again. It’s the third one Paige has gotten out of her today, and finally, she smiles back. They look a little foolish, standing in the apartment hallway, cheshire-cat-grinning at each other like idiots, but it feels like something has clicked into place again.  

“I’ll go grab my wallet, you go heat up the car.”

“It’s like 110 degrees dude.”

“Bro shut up, you know what I mean,” Paige huffs and when it makes Azzi laugh, she feels like she’s floating. It’s not as if she hasn’t been happy in a year because won’t you look at that, her world did keep turning after that one decision. But this is different. She feels airy and light, like she could jump off a cliff and fly instead of fall. 

“Well hurry up, I have things to do outside of just being your chauffeur.”

“Poor passenger princess, how the roles have reversed,” Paige mocks and it earns her an ever so familiar fond eye roll and for the first time in a year, she feels free. 

***

When she gets downstairs, Azzi’s leaning against her car door, a pair of sunglasses shielding her eyes. The hot California sun shines brightly against her tan skin, and Paige’s heart stutters because fuck, Azzi is golden. She looks every bit reminiscent of the girl Paige still has memorised and yet, every bit the promise of a girl Paige wants to learn by heart. 

“Nice car,” Paige smirks, alerting the younger girl of her presence.  

“It does the job,” Azzi says, looking up with a smile of her own, opening the passenger door for Paige to get in, “not all of us are raking in NIL deals to get the big guns, but we make do.”

“Steph Curry brand ambassador say what now?” the blonde girl teases as she slides into the car. When she looks up, Azzi’s frozen in place, “what?”

“Nothing I just-” she’s wearing sunglasses, but Paige knows Azzi's trying to avert her gaze, “I’m kinda surprised you know that.”

It’s Paige’s turn to look away, their newfound comfort giving away to that old awkwardness, “I keep up with most basketball news.”

To Azzi’s credit she doesn’t push. Instead, she makes her way into the driver seat without another sound. She’s about to connect her phone to the aux but Paige beats her to it. 

“Hey,” Azzi squeals, making grabby hands, “my car, my rules, my music.”

“Nuh-uh injury privileges,” Paige gloats, sticking out her tongue. 

“That’s not a thing.”

“Is too.”

“Fine, we’ll listen to your crap music.”

“I resent that,” Paige retorts, as Drake blasts through the speakers. The sound of it makes Azzi groan, and she dramatically bangs her head against the steering wheel. Paige spends the rest of the car ride singing at the top of her lungs. Azzi spends the rest of the car ride alternating between shaking her head and joining in with the singing. It’s like they’re back in 2020 all over again, back before they found themselves in the whirlwind of life, back when they were just Paige and Azzi.

*** 

Their trip inside the grocery store takes less time than the ride to get there, even if Paige takes her time dilly-dallying in the dairy section, pretending she’s going to get anything other than just regular milk. She’s overly conscious of the fact that their time together might be coming to an end, that this time she might actually have to deal with saying goodbye. But she’s not ready to go back to missing Azzi just yet. 

“Maybe you can show me your dorm,” she says quietly, once they're both back in the car, playing with the hem of her shirt. Beside her, Azzi draws in a sharp intake of breath, clearly not having expected Paige to want that of all things. In all honesty, the idea of stepping into the world that had stolen Azzi from her is not all that appealing to Paige but she wants to hold onto this moment just a little bit longer. 

“You wanna see my dorm?” 

“A chance to see how the non-blue blood peasants live? I’d never pass it up.”

“Non blue blood,” Azzi scoffs, "Ever heard of John Wooden?”

“I was talking about women’s basketball but yeah I have heard of him. I won the award last year. Over you,” Paige smirks, wiggling her eyebrows. 

“Not everyone’s a phenom their freshman year,” Azzi retorts fondly, unable to mask the hint of pride in her voice. 

“Well we’ll see this year-” Paige stops herself, cold seeping into her lungs, as she remembers why she’s in the stupid state of California in the first place. The lighthearted mood in the car goes tumbling out the window as her words hang like a dagger in the air. 

“Paige,” Azzi whispers, trying to wrap that one syllable in comfort. She reaches out to touch the blonde’s shoulder but must think better of it because her hand hovers mid-air for a second, before she pulls it back. Paige is suddenly hyper aware of the fact they haven’t touched yet. It’s a reminder of the fact that whatever progress they’ve made today, there’s still so much they haven’t even begun to unpack. 

“It’s fine,” Paige’s voice is steely, “just drive.”

Azzi opens and closes her mouth a couple of times, before simply nodding and starting the ignition. She’s clearly holding back and Paige doesn’t know how to feel about it. There’s a part of her that wants Azzi to push her to talk like she would before, but there's another part of her that knows this new rope they’re trying to string between them is fragile. 

They ride in silence to Azzi’s apartment, both of them too caught up in their own thoughts to bother with music this time. As the UCLA campus nears, Paige can’t help but hate it just a little bit. She’s aware she’s being petty. Acting like Storrs, Connecticut is some hub of beauty is probably a stretch of the imagination for anyone but she’s determined to dislike this place out of principle.

“Hmm not too shabby but like where’s the fucking cows?” Paige jokes, as the car comes to a stop in front of Azzi’s apartment building. She steps out gingerly, pretending to inspect her surroundings, making tsk-tsk noises at the most random things. 

“I’ve seen your apartment Bueckers, don’t even try,” Azzi retorts. 

It shouldn’t surprise Paige to see one of Azzi’s teammates when they enter her living room. It’s just like UConn really in the sense that there’s always someone there when you walk in but something about seeing Charisma Osborne just chilling in Azzi’s space suddenly makes it more real that the younger girl is definitely a UCLA Bruin. 

“Oh,” Charisma gives Paige a once-over, clearly not having expected to see her, “hi Paige.”

Paige waves, shuffling her weight on her crutches, unsure what to say. It’s not like she doesn’t know Charisma, they’ve literally won a gold medal together for USA basketball. She’s even met the girl a couple of times after and she likes her, she does. But her bitter brain is focused on the fact that this is one of those girls who had gotten Azzi as their teammate, one of the girls who got to see Azzi everyday. All things Paige had not gotten. 

“You didn’t tell me you were bringing company Az,” Charisma says pointedly, looking at Azzi and Paige bristles at the use of the nickname. She’s being all sorts of ridiculous but at least she’s self-aware of it. 

“Last minute decisions,” Azzi replies airily. The two girls lock eyes and Paige can tell they’re having some sort of unspoken conversation and now the green-eyed envy monster is out in full force. 

“I insisted on seeing her dorm,” she says finally, breaking into whatever staring competition the two UCLA guards are having. 

“It’s not a problem,” Charisma reassures, standing up from her position on the couch, and coming over to give Paige a tentative hug, “I just didn’t know you were coming. But it’s good to see you, Paige.”

“Yeah,” Paige tries to muster up a proper smile as she leans in to return the hug but it comes out more like a grimace, “you too.”

“We’re gonna go chill in my room,” Azzi says, beckoning to one of the doors in the hallways and Paige obediently follows her, waving a half-hearted goodbye to Charisma. She’s secretly pleased to have Azzi back to herself. 

The room is nothing out of the ordinary except it has Azzi all over it. She’s in the pink comforter that is thrown haphazardly over a clearly not made bed. She’s in the unicorn plushies laid delicately over a dark blue couch. She’s in the little flower stickers that outline the mirror on the far side of the room. There’s a wall dedicated solely to pictures and fairy lights on one side and Paige is immediately drawn to it. A familiar ache reverberates in her chest as her eyes flicker over the pictures of Azzi’s family. She’s missed them. Then there’s the photographs of Azzi in her UCLA uniform, her teammates surrounding her and Paige has to resist the dangerous urge to rip those off the wall. Be happy for her happiness, the logical part of her brain yells, not seeming to realise she’d left any chance of that in the dirt a year ago. As she tears her eyes away from those offending pictures, they land instead on a whole other set of photographs and she feels her heart catch in her throat. 

It’s a set of three images of her and Azzi, taken at various moments. Paige brushes her thumb against the one of the two of them with their arms around each other at the Minnesota  state fair. Azzi’s beaming at the camera and Paige is beaming at Azzi. They look so young, so naive, so happy. 

“I’m on your wall,” Paige breathes out, turning to face her best friend, “Fuck, I’m on you wall.”

“Of course you are,” Azzi affirms, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world but she shuffles nervously, giving away the reality behind her stable demeanour. 

“I never answered your texts. I didn’t call you back,” Paige lists quietly as the first tear falls from her eyes; she’s been holding them back all day, “and I’m on your fucking wall.”

Azzi looks away, unsure how to deal with the fact that apparently they’re no longer tip-toeing around the past. She doesn’t know how to tell the blonde that there had never really been a second thought about whether or not those photos were going up on the wall.

“Doesn’t matter,” she shrugs finally, “you’re my best friend. You’re always gonna be my best friend. Ride or die right?”

“Ride or die,” Paige repeats in a whisper before she all but throws herself at Azzi, practically moulding herself into the younger girl’s body. Caught off guard, Azzi stiffens for a second, before relaxing into it. It’s late outside and the sun has set, but in this moment, the world shines the brightest it has in a year as two stubborn girls finally find their way home to each other. 

***

That night, Azzi asks her tentatively if she wants to stay over and of course Paige agrees. Lying awake next to a familiar stranger, she lets herself finally remember the day things had first started unravelling.

November 2020

“You’ll probably get one of the upstairs apartments, so we probably won’t actually be living together which is good because can you imagine if I had to see your goofy ass 24/7?” Paige puts a dramatic hand to her forehead, as she leads Azzi into her room.

She’s too caught up in her excitement having Azzi at UConn, and planning what’ll happen next year, to notice that the girl in question isn’t participating at all in her enthusiasm. Paige has been waiting for what feels like a year (in reality it’s only been a few months) to finally have her best friend come visit. The minute the car had pulled up, she’d taken it upon herself to start her sales pitch all over again, missing the sympathetic smiles she’d gotten from the rest of the Fudd family as she pulled Azzi away to show her the glories of the campus. 

“Did you see my assist to Christyn today?” Paige gloats, falling onto her bed with a smirk. 

“It was pretty great,” Azzi concedes. 

“It was fucking perfect thank you very much. I set her up perfectly, exactly how she likes it.”

“Right.”

“And then did you see how excited the team was for her? For everyone? Never gonna find a greater group of girls.”

“They seem wonderful P.”

Paige furrows her eyebrows as she catches Azzi still lingering by the door instead of joining her on the bed. The brunette fidgets with the sleeve of her sweater, chewing on her lips.

“Are you allergic to my bed?” Paige waits for some smartass response. When she doesn’t get one, she frowns, instincts going haywire, “Az, you good?”

“I- '' Azzi looks away, swallowing nervously, “I need to tell you something and I- I’m not sure how you’re gonna react.” 

“You get a boyfriend or a girlfriend or something in the last few months that I don’t know about?” She says it light-heartedly enough, but the thought of it sends a sharp sting through Paige’s heart. In hindsight, she thinks maybe she could have dealt with it having been that. 

“What? No. Just- just don’t- dont take it personally okay. Like you can be upset about it but- but don’t hold it against me yeah? My parents- they said- they said you’d get it. You’d be upset but you’d- you’d get it because you- you get me right?”

Paige’s chest hammers as she watches the younger girl draw in a deep breath, “you’re scaring the shit out of me right now.”

“I’mcommittingtoUCLA” Azzi says all in one breath, the words blending together. 

She’s sure she’s heard it wrong. There’s no way. After all this time, after all their conversations, all the pitches, how hard she had worked, there was no way this was going to be the end to all of Paige’s efforts. 

“What?” she whispers, crossing her fingers that she has in fact misheard. 

When Azzi averts her eyes, she knows she hasn’t, “I’m committing to UCLA.”

The first time Paige and Azzi met was somewhat awkward, what with Azzi’s shyness and Paige being slightly overeager to make a new friend. When they’d become bus buddies, they’d progressed to being casual acquaintances who could small talk and share smiles. And then the flight back to Minnesota happened and everything had changed. Every moment after was filled with conversation or laughs or a comfortable silence. Until this one, where the sudden silence between them foreshadows an ominous future.

“Say something,” Azzi says finally, her voice shaking. 

Paige stares at her for a second before, “you named your dog Stewie.”

“What?”

“You named your dog Stewie. After Breanna Stewart who played at UConn. It’s not-” Paige wracks her brain, hands flying animatedly “it’s not Meyers or something, after someone who played at fucking UCLA. You named your dog after a UConn great. How are you going to take him to UCLA with you?”

Azzi stares at her, clearly not having expected that level of questioning of all things. Who could blame her when Paige herself feels a little insane. 

“This is a joke right? You’re fucking with me? Ha ha ha very funny,” she claps deliriously,  “hilarious prank seriously, like hats off you’ve outdone yourself but enough okay? Say sike right fucking now.”

Azzi makes a strangled noise, “it’s not a joke Paige. That’s- that’s my decision.”

“Then change it,” Paige yells, catapulting off the bed.

“Paige-”

“Have you told UCLA yet?”

“I wanted to tell my family and you first.”

“Oh wow, how kind of you. How fucking generous of you to do that Azzi,” Paige bites back sarcastically and Azzi flinches. 

In a flash, Paige’s expression goes from angry to desperate, “you still have time to change your mind . Please just- just think about it again okay? You still have so much time and you know what, stay here for a couple more days. Spend time with the team, with the coaches, with me and you’ll see-. UCLA just sounds nice you know? California, the sun, I get it, of course it’s tempting. But just- just stay here okay? And you’ll see this is where you belong,” she leaves the, with me, unsaid. 

“Paige,” Azzi’s voice cracks. She takes a step toward her and then pauses. It’s the first time in a long time that Azzi’s hesitated when it comes to Paige. It won’t be the last. And when she looks at Paige through her long eyelashes, tears threatening to fall from her dark brown eyes, Paige knows she’s lost. 

“No,” she’s pacing now, chest heaving up and down in a combination of frustration, anger and misery, “this is not fucking happening. We’re not doing this. I made you a whole recruitment video. Did you watch it? Do you know how long it took me to make it? Has the last year been a fucking joke to you?”

“Of course not-”

“Don’t even. Because clearly- clearly it has. Must’ve been hilarious watching me beg and plead with you when you already fucking knew you were going to committ somewhere else.”

“That’s not fair,”  Azzi’s voice rises at the accusation, “I had no idea where I was going until a couple of weeks ago. You can’t seriously think that low of me.”

“Not fair? You know what’s not fair, Azzi? We’ve been talking about playing together, about finally being on the same team, the same fucking state, for years. What’s not fair is you throwing all of that away on a whim.”

“I’m not committing to UCLA on a whim. This is my whole future we’re talking about. You don’t even know how much thought I’ve put into it. And I’m choosing what’s best for me. You can’t hold that against me Paige. You can’t.”

They stand on opposite sides of the room, taking in harsh staggered breaths and glaring at each other. The tension in the room is electric as the string connecting them frays. Paige and Azzi bicker, they don’t argue. Or at least, that’s how it used to be. 

“Az?” their stare down is broken by a knock on the door as Katie Fudd lets herself in. Immediately, as she stares between her daughter and the girl who’d become just as important, Katie knows what has happened, “we’re going back to the air BnB, are you staying here?”

The answer should be obvious, like it used to be. Of course she would stay here. It was meant to be a no-brainer. But before Azzi can say that, Paige intervenes and the string snaps. 

“She’s going with you,” the blonde says firmly, before turning her back. She won’t let Azzi see the tears, she won’t. For her part, the brunette stares at Paige’s back silently for a couple of seconds, before a mask of determination slips on. 

“Fine. If that’s what you fucking want,” Azzi sneers before brushing past her mom, eager to get away and hide her own tears. 

When Paige turns back around, Katie is already looking at her. The older woman walks the length of the room and pulls the younger girl into a hug that she readily melts into. Paige sniffles as Azzi’s mom soothingly rubs her back. 

“We’re driving back tomorrow morning,” Katie whispers quietly into Paige’s hair, “I know you’re mad sweetheart but come say goodbye okay?”

And she does. She shows up with only half an hour or so remaining before Azzi leaves, but Paige shows up. They hug stiffly, exchanging maybe a sentence or two but in that moment it’s enough. They’ll call later when Azzi gets home and it’ll be awkward for a little bit but they’ll break through. They’ll figure out a way to go on without having to talk about the “big thing”. They’ll hold on as long as they can, until they can’t anymore. 

***

September 2022

After the night Paige stays over at Azzi’s apartment, they're attached at the hip for the next few weeks, just like old times. They’ve fallen into a routine of sorts. Azzi shows up without fail every day after practice to pick Paige up from her rehab, and then the rest of the younger girl’s time is Paige’s. The first time she’d seen the brunette leaning casually against her car, Paige had had to stop herself from jumping into her arms. She’d played it as nonchalant as possible, joking about Azzi being stalker, but inside, she could feel it again, the dangerously familiar tap of this is all I’ll ever need. 

On days Paige doesn’t have rehab, Azzi still shows up right on time on her doorstep with a board game or food or something.  It’s gotten to the point where every time the doorbell rings, Paige opens it expecting Azzi. The couple times it’s not, she tries and fails to hide the disappointment on her face. It earns her an eye roll from the delivery guy but it’s worth it for the laugh it elicits from Azzi when she tells her the story. They fall back together as if they’d never fallen apart. And what’s more terrifying than finding out that she’d never truly gotten over old Azzi, is realising how easy it would be to fall in love with new Azzi. 

When Caroline, Nika and Piath come to visit the weekend after, all three of them can immediately tell that something's changed. Their teammate seems lighter, as if she’s finally found a sense of calm. But their incessant prodding and raised eyebrows are only met with shrugs from a tight-lipped Paige. It isn’t until Azzi calls, and Nika snatches the phone out of Paige’s hands, gasping at the callerID, that they finally figure out why their point guard has a new kick in her step. 

“You should invite her out with us tonight,” Caroline is the first to speak, giving Paige an encouraging smile. 

“Carol,” Nika hisses, “we can’t just invite the enemy.”

“She’s not the enemy,” Paige defends immediately, “we don’t even have a rivalry with UCLA.”

Nika scoffs indignantly, “of course she is. She picked a different school over us. Over UConn! That’s weird. Who even does that?”

“Lots of people do,” Caroline, who occasionally texts Azzi (albeit she’s kept that somewhat of a secret), supplies helpfully, shrugging when the Croatian glares at her. 

Piath nudges Paige when she notices the other girl has gone quiet, “ignore Nika. She doesn’t mean it, you know that. If you wanna invite her, invite her.” 

And she does, she wants to so badly. It’s insane really because it hasn’t even been a full day since they’d last seen each other but Paige swears something inside her has been missing since. There’s something awfully terrifying about letting Azzi back into the UConn version of her world, the world that the younger girl had once rejected. Still, if they’re going to try this again, she supposes sooner or later, it’ll have to happen. 

“Put her on speaker,” Nika orders when Paige grabs her phone back from her. 

“Nika,” Caroline, younger only by age, warns, pulling the other girl away, “we’re supposed to be cheering her up, not making life harder.”

Azzi answers on the third ring, her voice teasing  “miss me already?”

Yes, Paige thinks, sometimes I think I miss you even when you’re right here next to me, sometimes I think I’ll miss you forever. But she doesn’t say any of that. 

“Not a chance,” she scoffs instead, “besides you called me first.”

“Butt dial.”

“Mmmhmm I’m sure.”

“Shut up,” Azzi laughs and Paige is glad her teammates aren’t here to see the goofy grin that appears on her face at the sound of it, “I just wanted to see if we were doing something tonight?”

“Yeah- umm- you remember I told you about the girls coming down this weekend. They- uh- they wanted to go out tonight and uh- you could come along?” 

There’s a pause on the other end and Paige knows Azzi’s going through the same thought process as her. 

“I don’t wanna intrude on your time with your team P-”

“You wouldn’t be intruding,” Paige cuts in immediately and although she figured her teammates were definitely eavesdropping, Nika cursing about her being “pussywhipped” followed by in-sync shushing from Piath and Caroline, gives them away. 

On the other end of the line, Azzi’s quiet again, “it’s okay P, you go have fun with your friends. We don’t have to spend every night together. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

What she doesn’t say is that maybe they need to learn how to live like that again, how to live apart again. Paige is almost done with the LA part of her rehab, something both of them are still in denial about. It’s only a matter of time before they return back to their two separate worlds and neither of them are sure they’ve managed to repair their friendship enough to not slip back into their foolishness again. 

“But I wanna see you tonight,” Paige whines, her tone teetering on the edge of sounding like a desperate girlfriend, “please.”

“Paige-”

“Pleaseeeeeee. I’m literally injured and begging Az, it’d be mean to say no.”

“What does your injury even have to do with any of this?” Azzi sighs exasperatedly, “but yeah okay fine calm down Bueckers. Send me an address, I’ll be there.”

“You don’t wanna come pregame here?” 

“Dude, let's not push it, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah okay see you,” Paige pauses, “hey Az?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m really happy you’re coming tonight.”

“I’m really happy you’re happy P.”

***

Azzi Fudd is a menace. See, people often get fooled by her soft-spoken nature and shy demeanour, but Paige has been around her long enough to know the truth. In the beginning it was the witty quips the younger girl always had ready whenever they were having some ridiculous argument. After that, it was the direct pranks that wreaked havoc on Paige’s life. But tonight, in Paige’s opinion, tonight is Azzi’s worst offence. She had to have done it on purpose, had to have known the sheer effect it would have on Paige to see her dressed like that. The red criss-cross tank top fits her like a mould and the way her ripped jeans shorts cling to her hips leaves little to the imagination. Her diamond belly button piercing shines against her skin, taunting Paige. She wants to touch, she wants to feel, she wants to do all the unspeakable things in her mind but she’s forced to just watch. 

What she hates most though, is that everybody else is watching too. Since Azzi’s walked into the club, Paige has had to fight the urge to strangle every stranger who had given her best friend an appraising once-over. Some of them let their eyes linger long enough to give her time to plot out the perfect murder strategy (it’s the only way she can stop herself from actually committing a crime tonight). And, as Azzi dances with Caroline, hips swaying to the beat and holding the other girl a little closely, Paige has the irrational urge to hit sweet, kind Caroline of all people. 

The thing is, Azzi’s been a little too attached to Caroline since she got here in Paige’s opinion. And she gets it. Piath, bless her soul, is trying but has always been a little awkward around new people. Nika is definitely not trying, loyally holding onto a grudge on behalf of Paige. Which leaves Caroline, who’s already familiar territory and the younger girl has grasped onto her like a lifeline. But enough is enough Paige decides, as she slips out of her seat with a determined look. Smoothly, she cuts right in between Caroline and Azzi.

“Nika’s a little wasted and I don’t want to deal with,” it’s a blatant lie but Paige knows appealing to Caroline’s more motherly instincts will get her what she wants. She gets a raised eyebrow in return, her teammate clearly catching her ruse because Nika looks visibly fine. But it works anyway and Paige gets Azzi to herself. She reaches for the other girl’s hand, twirling her just so she can hear that stupid silly laugh, and then pulling her back so she’s facing Paige. 

“You having fun?” 

“Always have fun with you P,” Azzi replies. She’s clearly tipsy but there’s no hint of insincerity in her voice. It makes Paige’s breath hitch. 

“Yeah?” she whispers, taking a step closer, “more than with Carol?”

Azzi giggles, “more than anyone.”

The song in the club changes and as the crowd adjusts to it, someone jostles Azzi and immediately Paige grabs at her hips to steady her. As she finds her balance, Azzi’s giggles subside, realising just how close she is to the blonde now. They’re stuck in slow motion as the world dances around them. The combination of adrenaline and alcohol pumping through her veins is what convinces Paige to test the limits. One hand still squeezing at Azzi’s bare waist, revelling in finally getting to touch, she brings up her thumb to trace around Azzi’s lips. The younger girl gulps, but when she doesn’t try to move away, confidence pulses through Paige. Her heart is beating frantically out of her chest, years and years of want and need that she’d shoved as far away as possible, desperately fighting to get to the surface. 

Pushing herself closer, so their chests are now pressed to each other and Azzi’s hands have no choice but to latch onto her biceps, Paige places a delicate, teasing kiss to the corner of Azzi’s lips. She wishes she could record the whine it elicits and listen to it on loop for hours. Smirking, she moves to place another one on the other side, this time pressing her lips a little harder, a little longer. Azzi’s eyes are closed shut, hands gripping onto Paige so tightly, she knows there’ll be a mark on her biceps tomorrow. She cups Azzi’s face with both hands now, her own eyes shutting involuntarily, as she finally, finally brushes their lips together. 

This time, the strangled noise that leaves Azzi’s throat, is one Paige wishes she could forget as the younger girl rips herself away from Paige, the force of it creating almost a foot of distance between them. It doesn’t take long for the familiar sting of rejection to make itself home in her heart. Azzi’s eyes are brimming with tears as she manically shakes her head. Without a word, she rushes through the crowd, making a beeline for the exit, leaving Paige confused and craving for another taste. 

***

It takes Paige a second to gather her thoughts before following the brunette. She ignores the confused glances from her teammates, making some bullshit excuse about fresh air as she fights her way outside. When she gets there, Azzi’s leaning against the wall, eyes closed as she takes in long deep breaths. 

“That’s not usually how girls react when I try to kiss them,” Paige says after a second, trying to make light of the situation, even if her heart is heavy with anxiety. 

It’s the wrong thing to say because Azzi scoffs, “you kiss a lot of girls don’t you.”

“Yeah and most of them kiss me back,” Paige bites back. 

She’s taken aback by the fire in the darker-skinned girl’s eyes as Azzi finally opens them, heaving herself off the wall. 

“I won’t be one of your groupies Paige. I won’t be one of your desperate one night stands. I won’t be just some other hookup. I won’t!”

Frankly she’s a little offended Azzi would even think that of her. She’s aware of her reputation. In fact she’d probably fed into it a little bit, exaggerating her escapades to Azzi on the phone her freshman year, when they had been on the verge of combusing and she’d been desperate to get a rise out of the younger girl. Last year though, last year was different. But Azzi doesn’t know that. 

“I don’t want you to be any of that,” she replies feebly. 

“Then what, do you want me to be?” Azzi’s voice rises with each syllable. 

Paige stutters, the words getting stuck in her throat. The truth is she wants Azzi to be everything. The truth is, Azzi already is everything. Except there’s too much between them and she just can’t say it. They stand in silence until Azzi finally breaks it.

“I think these last few weeks of summer might have been the best of my life,” she says miserably, “and that might be the worst thing ever you know? Because it’s not real. You’re gonna go back to your world and you’ll- you’ll stop replying to my texts and you’ll stop- you’ll stop calling me and I- I don’t know if I can do that again.”

“That’s an awful lot of assumptions you’re making about me,” Paige is on defensive mode now, feeling a fight brewing. 

“Because that’s what happened. Go back through your fucking phone Paige. Look at all the times I tried. And all the times you never did. You just- you cut me out Paige.”

“That’s not fair. You chose fucking UCLA. Over me.”

“No,” Azzi corrects immediately, anger seeping into her tone, “I chose UCLA over UConn. You made it about yourself.”

Paige swallows back a bitter response in favour of trying to prevent a full-fledged argument, “okay, okay let’s not- let’s not do this okay. It’ll be better this time- I- I won’t ignore your calls or texts or you okay? Just- can we just go back inside please?”

“That’s the thing,” Azzi’s anger is gone, replaced by a sad wistful smile, “I don’t know if I believe that you will,” a single tear rolls down her cheek, “I- I don’t fully trust you and you haven’t fully forgiven me. So where do we go from here?”

It’s a lie what they say about the truth setting you free, Paige thinks as Azzi’s words squeeze at her heart, because all it’s done is unleash shackles of despair that holds them both hostage. It had been easy the last couple of weeks, to pretend the last year had never happened. It had been easy for Paige to pretend that she was over what happened, to ignore the part of her brain that still felt so utterly betrayed. 

“Azzi, what are you saying? You don’t- you don’t wanna be friends?” Paige feels nauseous even saying it. 

“No I-” Azzi chews at her bottom lip, “I’m saying this- us- we’re too fragile to complicate even more. I barely- fuck- Paige, I barely survived losing my best friend. I don’t think I could survive losing something more.” 

The worst thing about it all, is that it makes sense. And really, Paige doesn’t know what she’d expected to happen if Azzi hadn’t pulled away when she did. They’d kiss, maybe give in and do more and then what? Shake hands and walk away? Or make false promises that would ultimately lead to resentment? No, Years and years of something deserved better than either of those masochistic endings. It makes sense, it does but it doesn’t mean Paige has to like it. 

In front of her, all the fight evaporates from Azzi’s body, as the younger girl leans back against the brick wall of the club, sliding down and pulling her knees to her chest. She looks every bit as miserable as Paige feels and all the blonde wants to do is wipe away the stress lines creasing against the younger girl’s beautiful phase. She moves to sit down next to her best friend, shuffling so their shoulders are pressed together and intertwines their fingers together. A sigh of relief escapes her when Azzi doesn’t immediately pull away. Instead, she squeezes their hands tighter, as if she’s scared that if she lets go, Paige will disappear. 

“You didn’t lose me you know,” Paige says softly after a second, nudging Azzi’s shoulder when the other girl lets out a noise of protest, “I know, I know it feels like you did. It felt like that to me too except- every time something good or bad happened to me, I heard your voice or- or maybe I just really wanted too. We got lost a little bit but I didn’t- I didn’t lose you and you didn’t lose me. There’s a difference. I don’t think we could ever lose each other like that. Not really.”

When Azzi turns to look at her, the golden glow of the street lights illuminate the emotions in her eyes. She gives Paige a soft smile, “well Bueckers, if basketball doesn’t work out, maybe you have a future in poetry.”

“I could do whatever I wanted,” except what I want to do the most. 

It doesn’t take long for the Uber Azzi’s already called to start pulling up and that familiar ache of longing creeps into Paige’s spine. She knows tonight isn’t their final goodbye; they still have a couple more days. But those days will be spent ignoring and pretending, unlike tonight and the firm grip they have on reality. They rise off of the cold pavement together, dusting themselves off. It takes a second of awkward glances before they’re surging into each other’s arms, squeezing each other so tightly that it’s hard to breathe. Paige wills herself not to cry, hiding her face in the crook of Azzi’s neck. 

“We’ll be okay,” she whispers, unsure if it’s more for her benefit or Azzi’s. 

The unwanted beep of a car is the only reason they reluctantly pull away, hurriedly wiping away unshed tears, they pretend the other can’t see. Azzi musters up a brave smile, before slowly moving away and it takes everything in Paige not to crumble and begs her to stay. Azzi’s halfway to the car when she turns back and it feels like Paige can breathe again. The brunette’s face is conflicted for a second before turning determined, as she starts walking back up. 

“Az-”

Paige’s confusion is stifled as Azzi fists her shirt, pulling her into a searing kiss. It’s desperate and needy and it’s only a few seconds before the dark-haired girl is pulling away again, but it sets Paige’s entire world off balance. 

“I just-” Azzi’s breathing is rapid and uneven, “I’ve wanted to do that since I was fifteen and- just- fuck- I just-,” she blinks up at Paige, “I hate- I hate leaving things unfinished and for fucks sake if you don’t call me back this time Bueckers- just- don’t be a stranger.”

Paige doesn’t get time to answer, she doesn’t think she could even if she did, because Azzi scurries away almost immediately. She stops when she gets to the car, turning back to give Paige one final look, a look that will haunt Paige forever, before getting into the backseat. As Paige watches the back of Azzi’s uber gets smaller and smaller, her tongue darts across her lips as she tries to memorise the faintest taste of Azzi’s strawberry-flavoured lipstick. And she knows, she’s so utterly and completely and terribly fucked.

[empressgeekt]

Trolls - Branch and Keith Brothers AU

HI!!! I'm back! With more Trolls plot bunnies. This one does not take place in the Prince Char Au, or the Veneer re-carnation one. It's completely separate and closer to canon.

Pre-movie.

Keith is the little trolling who likes to watch his parents sleep, and it's clear by the reactions from his classmates that he's not the most popular kid. A bit of a odd outsider, that finds happiness in things that others don't. There's another troll in Pop village who's a bit of an outsider, our favorite grump, Branch.

Branch would be in the village market one winter day, making some rare purchases rather then getting them from the wilds, when he first comes across Keith. The trolling would've been lost, left behind by his classmates. Branch would be a little confused by the kids blankness, but he isn't going to leave a kid lost in the snow, and helps Keith get back home to his dad. One the way he asks if this, keith getting left behind, happened often. Keith would blankly gripe about it, and how he thought his friends didn't actually like him, and he didn't think he liked them. Branch says that friends should like each other.

Couple of weeks later, Branch is working on gathering supplies, and Keith appears out of no where, then continues to follow the grey troll. When Branch asks what Keith is doing. Keith says, "You said befriend people I like." "Yeah so?" "I like you."

It throws Branch off, no one liked him.

Keith would continue to find and follow Branch for the next few days, it's only after a chance run in with a predator, that the grey troll realizes this kid isn't going away, and he starts training Keith in the ways of survival. Even more shockingly Keith listens to him when he's teaching. Everyone in the village always called Branch crazy with his survival bunker and apocalypse prep, but Keith listens intently. Even if it doesn't appear like it. Branch teaches Keith about, the forest, which fruits were safe to eat and where/when they grew. How to defend yourself from different type dangerous predators. And even about some of the extra traps and defenses Branch made for the village.

Branch gets used to his new little protégée, and honestly likes being able to pass on his knowledge to someone. He eventually learns to read the subtle differences in Keith's expressionless expressions to know how the kid's mood is, whether it's happy or upset. One day, Keith comes to visit Branch upset. Seeing the kid angry makes something in Branch's stomach turn, and he has this need to fix it. He doesn't know how, he hasn't comforted someone in years. So, pulling from vague memories of Floyd helping him when Branch was upset, he asks Keith what's wrong. Keith's upset about the other kids calling his school project weird. They were supposed to make a short presentation on people, they care about and Keith chose Branch. None of the kids would listen to him and said, that Branch was weirdo, and Keith was weirdo and they deserved each other. It made Keith Mad, because, he doesn't think Branch is weird, he thinks the Grey troll is cool and he doesn't want people to be mean to him. Branch does his best to console, Keith saying that sometimes people just don't agree with you no matter how hard you try to convince them, sometimes people just can't hear you.

K: Some times it feels like no one hears me

B: Yeah, I get that. it sucks, Makes you think their something wrong with you. But there isn't. Different doesn't mean bad, it just means you see things other don't.

Keith hugs Branch, and he can't turn the kid away. It's the first person the grey troll hugs in nearly twenty years.

K: Thank you, Branch

B: No problem kid, I'm always here.

K: I've always wanted a brother.

After this, Branch fully is attached. He goes all out for Keith any chance he gets. He's always there if Keith is upset, or to help with home work. Keith is one of the few people Branch allows in the Bunker. Branch makes sure, that he'd be the brother to Keith that his own were never to him. Always there.

Especially when Keith suddenly loses his dad. Branch fights and fights hard to keep Keith, knowing just how much the grief of losing a caretaker is crushing the kid. Unsurprisingly, the Pop trolls foster system fails Keith and eventually Branch gains his custody. "Let the outsider raise an outsider." Keith moves into the bunker, and Branch is with the trolling no matter what, making sure that this kid never goes Grey like he did. Though, waking up to Keith just staring at him is a little startling at first, but branch gets over it, anything to make the kid more comfortable.

By the events of the first movie, Keith has fully moved in with Branch and stays with him during the Chef's attack. And after the whole village is hidden in the bunker by Poppy, Keith pushes Branch to go after her. Peppy stepping up to watch over Keith while Branch is gone. All through out the mission Branch is thinking about Keith, worried how he's fair one his own, because while he can trust Peppy to make sure Keith doesn't die, he doesn't' trust the king to take care of Keith's mental health. They're reunion in the bergan pot is a hard one. On one hand, Branch is happy to have Keith back in sight, but on the other he feels like a failure for not being able to protect Keith from getting eaten. And When Keith goes grey in his arms...let's just say Branch isn't going down with out a fight.

I have no plans for World Tour, other then the possibility of Keith ending up captured with Poppy, and Barb mistaking Keith as her and Branch's son.

Its in Band together that things get a little more interesting...

Keith is Gristle and Bridget's ring bearer, though the rings are to big for him to hold, so he just stands inside of them to keep them from rolling away, with a very flat smile. Poppy and Branch end up dating in this two, and she does put in effort to get to know Keith, understanding that the trolling would be in branch's care for years to come. She's not as good at reading him, but she's getting better at it. And she finds Branch's caregiver side, adorable.

"Stop the Wedding!"

When John Dory shows up, Keith leaves his post, and runs to Branch after the elder troll was finished being man handled, bY JD. John is thrown off by the sight of a tiny Trolling in Branch's Arms. Seriously, when did his baby brother get a baby? Or a girlfriend? Was the kid theirs? Oh crap he missed a lot....

Keith is angry, through out the course of the third movie. Branch had already told him about their (yes, their, Keith is branch's brother now, which sadly makes him also related to these idiots) brothers, and how they all walked out on him. Keith has seen how much this hurt Branch, and how much they are hurting Branch now, he's clinging to his older brother all through out the mission.

Bruce is also shocked, and kind of feels bad, because Keith would be in Branch's hair when Bruce tossed him jostling the trolling. But he likes kids, so quickly warms up to the idea of Keith being a new baby brother. Even if he creeps Bruce out. And Keith is constantly creeping him out on purpose...thought Bruce doesn't realize it.

Keith doesn't like the hustle button.

Clay is scared of Keith. Because thanks to living with Branch the trolling can point out all of his safety measures and traps, understand how the work, and how to out smart them.

While practicing, John tries to get Keith toe join in but the trolling will only sing the words in the same flat stale note. Branch knows he's messing with john (Keith naturally sings flat but he's not that tone deaf) but doesn't say anything. Keith is hugging Branch all through out the fight, and along with poppy promises to not leave.

Floyd's too tired to really notice Keith until after he's rescued, however he's curious about the trolling. He feels proud watching Branch take care of trolling, but it also makes his stomach churn. Watching Branch with Poppy and Keith it feels like he's looking in on a family that Branch built and he missed it. Floyd would move into the bunker continuing his recovery, and during that is where he really interacting with Keith. He finds the kid adorable, not in the sparkly eyes way that Branch was but utterly adorable none the less. Keith becomes family to him too.

The fic would conclude with All the brother's accepting the fact that Branch and Keith are a package deal, and apologizing to branch for abandoning him (Keith and Poppy don't let them get away with shit). There's no long five brothers in Brozone, but six....and at least three sister-in-law...

-----

This now has a fic of the beginning

link - https://archiveofourown.org/works/55380961/chapters/140510860

[beautifulpersonpeach]

Peach..

I miss him so so much.

Can you gush about Jimin ?

Love how you wrote about him.

Thank you so so much in advance.

Whenever you are free. No pressure.

***

Hi @misslauwie

When your ask came in weeks ago, something in my chest squeezed a little. Because god yes I miss him too. Sometimes it feels like the whole world is kinda 'off', like everything is 'wrong', like we're all stuck in a holding pattern of sorts... And for anyone who thinks that's too dramatic, no it's not. Look around you. The world is kinda fucked, and the reason is because Jimin isn't on stage right now seducing the crowd performing like rent is past due, dancing his heart out, and singing like the fallen angel he is.

It's hard for me to talk about him these days though... I mean, there's always so much to say when it comes to Jimin, but the words don't form quite right for me these days.

Is it alright for me to simply post some pictures I come back to when I miss him and jikook?

Assuming I have your permission, that's what this post is going to be about.

(they cuddle)

*

There's this one from his last live before enlisting. Bare-faced, in an all black hoodie and beanie outfit looking hot as hell. It's the way he's giving 'Korean skaterboy who moonlights as a hacker', but at the same time he comes across as responsible, capable, and real. Cute too.

But lol, maybe that's just what I see when I'm biased.

*

Who else gets stuck looking at his eyes?

There's always so much to say about Jimin because literally everything about him could yield its own thesis. From the range and depth in his stage personas; to how pretty his body features are, before they morph into something more... deviant; to his voice that polarizes and entraps every audience. There's so much to talk about when it comes to Jimin, but I keep coming back to his eyes...

*

(This gave you whiplash didn't it :))

He's always known exactly what to do and how to do it.

*

Jimin is giving 70s cult leader in this shot and it's a fave. He's too modest to ever ask, but we all know we'd join a commune for him if he pulled that zipper down a little lower.

Anyway. Does anybody know why he likes this pair of shoes so much? I've always found them a bit ugly, but somehow, he makes it work. And it's clear he likes them a lot since he wears them all the time. But like... why?

*

Another picture I stare at on days when I miss jikook jikooking, is this one.

It's the moon in the shot that does it. The lines and symmetry, the afterglow of the sunset, Jimin's wide curved back, Jungkook focused on him, Jimin focused on him too, the fact someone else saw them like this and took this picture. They could've been chatting about what they'd like to eat for dinner or some other mundane thing, but it's the care and focus they show for each other that comes through so clearly for me in this shot.

*

This one has a place in my gallery because it's peak jikook.

*

As is this one:

*

Anyway.

Down bad for Baby G.

Imagine if PJM2 has a track like Set Me Free Pt 2 + Tony Montana... imagine the cataclysm it will cause in k-pop, imagine the havoc this cutie patootie pie will cause.

*

Sigh.

*

One day, when I find the words, I'll try to write about all the ways he charms. I owe a kind person from Tumblr (KPFT) a post about him.

*

In 2025, he'll be a 30 year old man desperate to get back on stage. And lord, I just hope everyone is ready.

*

This is the last one.

I come back to this picture sometimes because back then, they really did just have eyeliner and a dream. He gave his all right from the start and has created life-changing art. It's endearing to know he's both a bit of a workaholic and can be lazy too... and to know he still sleeps the exact way - like this:

...and this:

..and this:

*

@misslauwie I miss him too. Also miss Jungkook and the rest of the tannies. For Jimin, it makes me very happy that at least, Jungkook is with him.

He'll be back soon. 💜

[rip-quizilla]

Impossible to Hate You ~ Part 5

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Summary: Everything is falling- leaves from the trees, rain from the sky, you for Eddie, and Eddie for you.

Word Count: 10.1 K

A/N: Big thanks to @the-unforgivenn (happy birthday❤️) for all of the help you gave me on this chapter, and honestly this whole fic in general. You've been an invaluable part of the writing process of this story, and the fact that you care so much about Eddie & Ace just makes me feel so loved... you don't even know. Ily wifey✨

Thank you @vintagehellfire for your priceless tattoo knowledge- I hope I did you proud!!

Also thanks to @blueywrites for helping me decide on what Eddie would tattoo on reader back in our Tumblr DMs in June😂 y'all that's how long I've had this scene in my brain. This part of the story has been a long time coming.

Divider was created by the lovely and talented @hellfire--cult❤️

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Part 5

Fall, 1983

“Rick, are you serious, man?”

“Dead serious, I’ll sell it to you for twenty.”

You caught the tail end of their conversation as you approached the red plastic picnic table in Forest Hills trailer park. Today was the first day of fall, and while it may not have felt like biting cold and crunchy leaves yet, it did feel like flannels tied around waists and long-dead grass that broke beneath the soles of your shoes. You hopped up onto the surface of the table, swinging your feet around to rest beside Eddie where he sat on the bench. 

“Sell what?” you asked, producing three cans of Coke from your bag that you’d brought from home and handing one to each of the boys. Rick had grown accustomed to your presence since the spring, so he actually cracked a smile when he answered your question and nodded in thanks as he accepted the can.

“Munson wants to buy my old tattoo gun.”

Your jaw dropped. “Wait, seriously?” you asked Eddie.

He didn’t take his eyes off Rick. “And I’m wondering what the catch is if you’re selling it to me for so cheap.” 

You cracked open your can of soda with a hiss, joining Eddie in his Rick stare-down. “Hmm,” you mused, “I bet he forgot to clean it and it’s staph-infested.”

“Nope,” Rick popped the ‘p’ after taking a swig from his shiny red can. “Never been used, so I can guarantee it’s staph-free. Always meant to use it, but after that brush with the cops I had last month, I don’t want to risk having it.”

You narrowed your eyes at Eddie, trying to discern whether or not he’d thought about the fact that if he bought it, then he would be in possession of paraphernalia for illegal Indiana activities. 

Then again, you knew he smoked weed and that was most definitely against the law as well, and he hadn’t been caught yet. You trusted him not to be stupid enough to get arrested.

You turned your line of questioning on Eddie. “Why on earth do you need a tattoo gun anyway?”

“Well you see, Ace-” Eddie lifted one of your feet up from the bench, straightening your leg and presenting your right shoe- your white converse, half covered in mythical creatures and random doodles that Eddie had slowly been adding to with his fine-tipped Sharpie ever since you’d bought them in early August. “-it seems that I need a canvas for my art, and it won’t be long before I run out of shoe.” 

You quirked an eyebrow. “So now people are the canvas?” 

Eddie held up his arms, bare skin nearly translucent in the afternoon sun. His nearly-too-small Iron Maiden tee showcased just how much bare skin he had to spare along the contours of his limbs. “If by people you mean me, then yeah.” 

“You’re going to tattoo yourself?”

“Yep!”

“Without practicing on someone else first?”

Eddie smirked, “You volunteering?”

You rolled your eyes, but for some odd reason the idea stuck. You decided to play along. 

“Let’s say I am, what would the tattoo be?” 

Eddie hadn’t anticipated this answer. He was so surprised, in fact, that he choked on the soda that he’d just sipped into his mouth before your question. In a cacophony of coughs and wheezes, Eddie managed to regain his composure as you smiled wryly, feeling as though you’d bested him somehow in some small way. To fluster him with something as small as this, something he hadn’t expected. 

“You’re serious? You want a tattoo?” Eddie responded skeptically, before turning away from you to fiddle with his soda can still held in his hands. 

You shrugged, as if he were asking if you wanted a pizza, not a permanent brand inked on your skin. “Why not? I think I’d look pretty badass with a tattoo.” 

You weren’t sure what was making you feel so bold today, but you had a feeling it might be related to the thought of Eddie covered in ink that wound up and down his skin that was making you ache to touch it when it was still naked and peach-pale. You scooched a couple inches down the tabletop to the left, placing your seat directly behind Eddie’s neck. 

Then, in a stroke of something between bravery, stupidity, and need, you carefully slung your legs over Eddie’s shoulders so that they sat in the bends of your knees.

It was a simple gesture- familiar, even. You made a point to lean back a little, bracing your hands behind you on the tabletop so that the apex of your thighs stayed a good distance from the back of Eddie’s neck. You felt Eddie’s shoulders stiffen, each muscle under your jeans tensing for a moment before relaxing into the closeness. 

Then Eddie brought his hands to your ankles, his fingertips brushing the spare skin between your high tops and the cuffs of your jeans. The pads of his thumbs barely caressed the skin but they felt like a kiss- a thing coveted and then forbidden, then coveted even more. 

His touch drifted over your legs, warm hands coming to rest over your shins and squeeze, heating the denim that separated his skin from yours. You were holding your breath. You’d been so confident a second ago yet here he was, knocking the very air from your lungs. 

You waited anxiously for him to say something; if he didn’t you were sure you were going to do something stupid. Something that would involve more of his skin on your skin.

“Would you want this tattoo of yours to show?” Eddie asked at last, breaking the silence between the two of you- well, the three of you. Rick was still there, taking in the sight before him with a smirk on his face. 

“Not easily, my parents would kill me.” you said, ensuring that your tone of voice was nonchalant, casual. “But I don’t see the harm in something small that I could hide.” 

Eddie tilted his head back and up, earthen eyes flicking up to yours. “What happened to ‘looking badass’?”

You pursed your lips as you leaned forward, bringing your faces to hover parallel over each other. “You’re saying that taking my pants off to reveal a surprise tatty isn’t badass?”

You watched as Eddie’s eyes flashed darker for a split second- nearly imperceptibly so- before his lips stretched sinfully into a mischievous grin. “Oh, under the pants then, huh?” 

His hands traced higher, ghosting on your knees and burning his fingerprints through your jeans. 

“Easy to hide,” you said, struggling to keep your voice even. “It’s a practical placement.”

Eddie’s thumbs stroked absentminded circles into the flesh of your lower thighs, tight denim puckering with the motion. “Practical placement…” he murmured, low enough that it sounded like he hadn’t even meant to say it out loud. 

“You could put it on your hip.”

Both of your heads whipped around to focus on Rick, who was grinning at both of you like he’d just discovered a fun new game to play. He shrugged, hopping up to sit beside you on the tabletop. “You want it to be hidden all of the time, right?” he leaned to shove you congenially with his shoulder. “When’s a good girl like you gonna be showing off some hip? I bet the only one who’ll see that will already be married to you when he lays eyes on-”

“Hey!” you interjected. “You act like I’m some prude, I’m not a nun.” Rolling your eyes, you looked back down at Eddie hoping to meet his gaze and laugh together over how ridiculous Rick was being. However, you looked down only to find Eddie’s chocolate browns trained on Rick with wide-eyed warning. A silent message was clearly being exchanged, but it wasn’t for you.

Rick was smiling smugly down at Eddie, unbeknownst to you, and Eddie was getting the message loud and clear:

It’s time to raise the stakes, kid. 

“Perfect!” Rick chirped, smug eyes still trained on Eddie’s. “So you wouldn’t mind letting Eddie use your hip as his, uh… canvas, then?”

If Eddie’s looks could kill, Rick would be a dead man. 

“Yeah.” you choked out, refusing to give yourself time to chicken out of what you’d gotten yourself into. “Yeah, why not?”

Rainy days in autumn just felt right.

Sure, you were in Latin class. Sure, you were supposed to be working on a packet the substitute teacher had just passed out. However, it was raining outside. The sub was easygoing enough that she hadn’t made a move to stop Eddie from doodling on your shoe that was perched comfortably on the crook of his hip. 

You sat behind him in every class you had together- there were four of them this year- and Eddie had gotten into the habit of reaching back to tap you on the leg whenever he knew he was losing focus. Every time he tapped, you would carefully stretch your leg forward until his hand caught on your ankle, lifting it up until it rested on his lap. His sharpie would go to work on whatever blank spots he could still find on your white converse, and the mindless activity of his drawing would keep his mind awake enough to listen as teachers droned on and on. 

The change in Eddie wasn’t lost on his teachers- they had all noticed the impact that your company seemed to have on him, and it was the only reason why they hadn’t had any issues with your constant companionship. When you were around, Eddie actually paid attention in his classes and turned in work- that was good enough for them.

The silence of the classroom and the soundtrack of rainfall beating against the roof and windows had created the perfect work zone for you, and your focus on your classwork was only interrupted when you noticed a folded piece of torn notebook paper on the edge of your desk. 

Smirking as you felt Eddie continue doodling on your shoe, you unfolded the paper and read the slanted scrawl that you’d come to recognize instantly as Eddie’s handwriting. 

Were you serious about the tattoo thing? It’s OK if you’re not.

Your cheeks heated, contemplating whether you were still serious about it or not. The only fears you had about it were completely logical- Eddie had literally no clue what he was doing. Yours would only be his second tattoo after his own. Worst case scenario, the tattoo would get infected and you go to the hospital. Eddie gets arrested for tattooing without a medical license. Best case scenario… you get to sit there while he grips your naked thigh for as long as it takes to leave a permanent reminder of him on your hip. 

You blinked a couple of times, letting that mental image wash over you, before confidently penning your answer beneath his message. 

I’m serious. 

Folding the scrap of paper and handing it back to him, you felt his Sharpie leave your shoe as he took the note and read it. You watched him register the two words, glance back at you through the loose strands of hair that hung over his shoulder, then smile softly into a shake of his head. A second later, he was handing the note back to you.

If you say so, Ace. What am I tattooing, and where?

You had to think about it for a moment before passing back your answer

Hip is fine. What are you gonna do? We could match.

Eddie’s reply came faster than you’d ever seen him write any of his notes in class, that’s for damn sure.

You want matching tattoos?? Are you sure?

Your heart began to race. Was that bad? Was he judging you for wanting to match him? Maybe you were being too clingy, trying too hard… you glanced down at his jacket, which was wrapped around you almost every day at this point- it was practically a second skin. His handwriting was all over your shoes. You stared at your fingers, scarlet polish chipping from the tips of your nails, and you remembered that you’d chosen red solely because he’d mentioned it was his favorite color. 

Were you coming across as desperate? Were you weirding him out? Maybe you needed to dial it back-

A new piece of paper slid across your desk, Eddie’s eyes glancing your way with nothing but warmth in his gaze before he returned his attention to your shoe on his lap. 

I’m fine with it if you are. 

Putting bats on my forearm. 

You released a breath that you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, giving ways for butterflies to take flight inside your chest. You grinned, jotting down your reply beneath his writing. 

I’m more than fine with it. 

Could you do just one little bat on my hip?

Eddie took a little longer this time with his response, and you understood why once you saw the adorably small silhouette of a bat penned in black on the paper he’d passed back to you. 

You leaned forward, letting your chin nearly brush the fabric of his denim jacket as you whispered low enough that the substitute teacher wouldn’t hear. 

“It’s perfect.”

A snicker from the other side of the classroom caught your ear. Eddie and you both turned to see a cluster of letter-jacketed assholes staring at the two of you, whispering and laughing with each other. 

You knew deep down that you didn’t care what they thought. You knew that you should just keep your head down. Ignore them. 

But then you caught the tail end of one of their sentences.

“...fucking freaks.”

Two things happened simultaneously: your eyebrows jumped, and Eddie’s stomach dropped.

The ringing of the bell was all you needed to angrily shove your belongings into your backpack and march over to the other side of the classroom, stopping the jocks in their tracks. Eddie was right behind you, tugging you back by the crook of your elbow as you steadily ignored his pleas to sit down and ignore them, they aren’t worth it.

“You want to repeat what you were saying over there, Alan?” You stared up at the freckled boy, his harsh features sneering down at you from where he stood nearly half a foot taller than you. His height did nothing to deter you, however. Neither did Eddie’s death grip on your arm.

Alan snorted, raising an eyebrow at the sight of the two of you before him. His eyes flicked over you, appraising for about two seconds before directing his attention to Eddie behind you. “You letting your girl pick your fights for you now, Munson?” 

Eddie didn’t have a chance to respond; you didn’t give him one. “Don’t look at him.” you stepped forward, bringing you mere inches from the freckled football star. “I asked you a question.”

Alan and his cronies laughed, apparently amused by the show of dominance you were trying to make. You opened your mouth to berate him further, but the sharp tug on your arm from Eddie was strong enough this time to jerk you away from them and toward the door of the classroom. 

“Wh- Eddie, quit it!” you tried to shake off his grip but it wasn’t going to budge; Eddie marched you out the door and down the hallway like a man on a mission. 

“Yeah, Eddie, quit it!” You both could hear Alan’s patronizing whine from the classroom, his voice thrown into a reedy falsetto that made your blood boil. His voice trailed off, melting into the nasal snickers of his friends.

Eddie didn’t let go of your arm until the two of you reached his locker, at which point he finally looked you in the eye- and his stare embodied an intensity that you hadn’t seen from him ever before. You’d seen him intense, of course… just not like this. 

This looked like fear. 

“What the fuck was that for?” Eddie bit out, his teeth clenched and eyes wide. 

You crossed your arms, suddenly defensive. Had you messed up, somehow? “I… I mean, they were calling us names, I wasn’t going to just sit there.”

“Alan’s an illiterate asshole, you don’t need to explain yourself to him.”

“I know I don’t need to, but…” You chuckled humorlessly, that familiar vengeful feeling from moments ago beginning to bubble back up. “You know what, no. I do need to. I’m not the kind of person who can just sit there while jerks like him run around slandering good people, it’s wrong!”

Eddie huffed, his hands on his hips as he glanced around and shook his head. “Slandering, huh? That’s a big word, Ace. What’s that, the college word of the day?” You raised an eyebrow, watching him closely and curiously. 

He was fidgeting nonstop, repeatedly picking up his feet and replacing them on the floor only an inch or so away from where they’d been before. His eyes darted in every direction, as if scanning for potential threats so that he could run from them before they decided to pounce. 

“Eddie, why are you so afraid of those guys?” 

Big brown eyes widened to saucers, refocusing on you. “This isn’t fear, Ace, it’s just common sense.” Eddie checked over his shoulder to ensure the jocks were gone, then took a step closer. He leaned his shoulder against the locker, lifting his opposite arm to gently place his hand on your upper arm. You shivered, feeling his thumb trace small circles through his own black leather. Maybe that’s why he’s so scared all of a sudden, you pondered, leaning closer to Eddie. He’s given me his armor. 

You lowered your voice, sympathetic to Eddie’s plight. “You know I wouldn’t let them hurt you, Eds.” Looking up into his eyes, you expected to see them soften, gratitude coating his gaze. Instead, they widened and crinkled slightly at the edges. Eddie huffed out a gaudy laugh, incredulous at your admission.

“Hurt me?” he shook his head, stunned, and began to rifle through his locker for the books he needed for next class. “Ace, I just don’t want them to hurt you!”

You balked. “Me?” an eyebrow raised, you crossed your arms over your chest, defensive once again. “You really think they’d hit a girl? They’re jerks but I don’t think they’d go that far-”

“Nah, they’ll only sick their girlfriends on you.” Eddie punctuated his sentence with a slam of his locker door. “Purebred harpies with matching scrunchies who’ll make your life a living hell and then pretend that you’re the crazy one.”

It was a struggle to keep up with him at the rate he was walking, strides each a yard wide as he tugged you along by your hand. 

Your hand. Eddie Munson was holding your hand. 

“You, uh… you speaking from experience?” You stuttered over your words, cheeks heating at the sudden skin-to-skin contact. He had just admitted that he didn’t want to see you get hurt- his blatant protectiveness of you coupled with the way he was decisively dragging you by the hand to your locker right now was nearly too much for you to handle. 

“Trust me,” Eddie sighed, swinging you around as he reached your locker and (to your dismay) letting go of your hand. “You get asked out on a dare enough times, you figure out how their coven operates.” 

Eddie wasn’t meeting your eyes. You had to actually place your hand on his shoulder to capture his gaze. “Eddie,” you said, making a conscious effort to keep your voice steady and be something stable for him to feel at least a little grounded on. “Deep breath.”

Surprisingly, he did as you said. Eddie closed his eyes, inhaling deep and allowing his lungs to fill long enough that his chest expanded before his exhale blew softly on your cheeks. It smelled like the apple you’d brought for him at lunch.

 When you were once again treated to that warm hazelnut gaze, your hand acted without thinking and flew up to gently rest against his jawline. You were crossing some invisible line- you knew that- but the light in the hallway was causing shadows to take up residence in the dusting of whiskers that decorated the sharp incline that led to his chin. Your fingertips brushed his skin reverently, and he seemed frozen. Eddie didn’t dare move; you were like a butterfly that had deigned to land on him of all people, and damn it all if he was going to fuck it up and scare you off. 

“I’ve got you, you’ve got me… right?” Your voice was barely loud enough to be heard through the noise of bustling students. “We look out for each other, Eddie, we’re stronger together.” 

Eddie remained still under your caress, wishing he could focus on your touch. Wishing he could rip his eyes away from where they were trained behind you- held in terrified contact with a sadistic-looking Alan who stood with his cherry-lipsticked girlfriend across the hallway. Alan’s lips were curled into a sneer, watching as the thing that Eddie wanted most became his worst nightmare.

You were openly touching him, while wearing his clothes, standing in shoes covered with his drawings- and Eddie watched in horror as the harpy pushed up on her tiptoes to whisper something in Alan’s ear before both of them refocused not on Eddie, but on you. 

They laughed like fucking heyenas, eyeing their next meal. 

It took every ounce of self control Eddie had, but he gently took your hand in his and lowered it from his cheek. He ignored the way your eyes gazed up at him the same way a scorned puppy begged for some kind of affection, any confirmation that they are, indeed, loved. 

“It’s the together part I’m worried about, Ace.” Eddie whispered, keeping his voice low. 

You were quiet, which Eddie hated because it was his fault.

“Oh, and um-” Eddie raised his shoulders and shivered, rubbing his hands along his upper arms to warm himself with the friction. “-it’s a little chilly today… you mind if I wear the jacket?” His hand drifted down to the flannel that hung loosely tied around your waist, taking a corner of the material and feeling it between the pads of his thumb and forefinger.

“This’ll keep you warm, yeah?” 

You stared blankly for a moment, stunned. You had nearly forgotten that the jacket was his to take. You’d assumed he liked that you always wore his jacket, but… perhaps you’d made that up. You were eager for him to want things like that, after all… ‘more than friends’ kinds of things. However, asking for a borrowed item to be returned was completely normal for friends. You chided yourself for reading too much into it and smiled warmly up at him.

“Yeah! Of course!” you sprung into action, setting your backpack down on the floor as you began to shrug off the jacket. “You’re right it’s frigid in here today.” 

You handed the jacket to Eddie, who donned it with a thin-lipped smile. Parting ways for your next class, you departed in opposite directions down the hallway. 

Upon arriving in your calculus class, you glanced out the window eager to zone out as you watched the rain, only to be greeted by a gray sky drained of its water. The rain’s reprieve left nothing in its wake but a tired sun, soft mist that obscured all surety, and packed Indiana dirt softened to mud too loose for one to find their footing. 

The sort of mud that, should you try to walk through it, you’d be destined to slip and fall. 

When Eddie thought of Halloween, he thought of blood and sugar. 

It was a strange contradiction, the way that Halloween’s association with horror and gore had balanced itself out with candy corn and fun-sized Snickers bars, and yet the juxtaposition of the two brought a smile to his face. The combination of sweet and terrifying embodied the holiday perfectly. On Halloween, there was no need for any kind of steely exterior that might protect him from judgment. No need to hide the way he really feels behind the scary metalhead armor he’d so carefully curated as a defense mechanism. 

On Halloween, he wasn’t just allowed to be a freak. He was celebrated for it. 

On Halloween, he could just be. 

It was the reason why Halloween just so happened to be the day he’d had enough courage to look through your bedroom window exactly four years ago. It’s the day when Hell meets Heaven to make something sweet, and anything can happen.

Anything- including matching tattoos on the floor of his trailer. 

Everything was ready- Eddie had laid out sheets of newspaper to cover what he’d deemed the tattoo zone, and broken down a cardboard box to act as a stable surface on the soft carpet of his bedroom floor. Eddie had scrutinized every instruction he’d been able to wrench from Rick for how to work the tattoo machine. Grips, needles, fucking rubber bands that were apparently very necessary… he’d made sure he had it all. He’d even practiced on an orange that he’d swiped from the kitchen counter.

A thick black cable now snaked across his carpeted floor, connecting the machine to a pedal, the pedal to a power supply, and the power supply to the yellowed plastic outlet on his wall. Beside the machine sat a stack of paper towels and all sorts of other shit Rick had advised him to make sure he used. He was lucky that Rick had bought a bottle of black ink- Eddie wouldn’t have known where to seek out medical-grade ink in a state where it was illegal to ink your skin without a license. 

Your knock at his door made Eddie jump; he wasn’t sure why he was so nervous. It would be easy to write his nerves off as adrenaline before his first tattoo, but who was he kidding- it was you. You’d gone from someone who made him nervous to someone who made him nervous for different reasons, and all of this was very inconvenient for Eddie. 

“Trick or Treat,” You’d chirped when he opened the door, and it was at that moment Eddie realized that this night may very well be the death of him.

You wore your favorite baggy sweater over a tight black tank top, which you’d tucked into some high waisted acid washed jeans. Unsurprisingly, the chucks on which he’d scribbled his claim were fastened securely on your feet. In your hands was a variety pack of halloween candies and a shopping bag from the local drugstore. Everything about you radiated warmth, and Eddie had to fight the urge to change tonight’s itinerary to movies and a blanket fort and spend the whole evening on the couch with you, surrounded by candy wrappers and the light of his television set. 

“I brought antibacterial soap,” you said, bringing Eddie back to reality. You rifled through your shopping bag to show him your spoils as you stepped through the threshold and into his trailer. “-large bandages, and a little travel first aid kit just in case. Oh, and I did a little bit of reading at the library and I couldn’t find much on tattoos, but the one commonality between every book and article I could find said to make sure you wash the wound often and disinfect everything-”

“Ace,” Eddie interrupted, taking the bag from you and closing the front door. The corner of his mouth quirked up, keeping an amused chuckle at bay. “You went to the library to read about how to safely care for an illegal tattoo?” Your expression soured, shifting to a half-scowl, half-pout. 

“Well one of us has got to do it,” you huffed, grabbing the bag and marching towards Eddie’s room. “And I know you wouldn’t set foot in the library unless you were forced.” You continued to yell at him from his room, “You’ll thank me when your kitchen-scratched tattoo doesn’t get infected, and you get to grow old with all of your limbs intact!”

Eddie stayed glued to his spot as his smirk grew into a goofy grin. You were fucking adorable. 

You hadn’t argued when Eddie insisted that he start with his own tattoo- before he got started on permanently marking your skin, he wanted to be sure that he at least had gotten the hang of it first. He immediately started getting to work with his trusty fine-tipped Sharpie, sketching out a scattering of bats on his forearm and glancing every once in a while at his notebook for reference. You’d flipped through that notebook on several occasions when the two of you had sat idle during classes or study sessions. The drawings were always sprawling, sharp and gruesome in a way that wasn’t so much scary as it was fascinating to you. 

You laid stomach-down on his mattress, positioned behind where he sat on the floor, his back leaned up against the bed frame and close enough that you could probably reach down and play with his hair if you were bold enough. You didn’t- no matter how tempting it was, you didn’t want to risk anything that might mess up his focus. You settled for watching Eddie’s reflection in the mirror that sat leaned up against the wall in front of him. 

When the Sharpie stencil had dried and Eddie picked up the tattoo machine, you couldn’t deny the nervous uptake in your heart rate. You watched him gingerly begin the process of permanently inking his drawing into his skin, and before the needle touched skin, Eddie looked over his shoulder at you and winked, whispering a surprisingly shaky “Point of no return.” Before you could ask if he was having second thoughts, he was already outlining the first bat, his socked foot pressing decisively on the pedal that whirred his machine to life. 

Minutes ticked by before you uttered a soft “Does it hurt?” to break the awkward silence. Normally, Eddie had some sort of music playing, Metallica or WASP or something along those lines spinning on his cheap old turntable- but tonight there was nothing but the electric buzz that filled the small bedroom, and it was starting to make you antsy. 

Eddie huffed, and it was as much of a laugh as he could afford while holding still. “Well, Ace, it’s a needle sticking in and out of my arm repeatedly, so if I’m being honest it ain’t exactly sunshine and rainbows.” You watched him wince as he moved on from outlining the first bat and started on the second. 

“Does it at least make you feel a little badass?” You watched his reflection in the mirror glance up through the curtain of his hair and raise an eyebrow at you. 

“That depends,” He said, “do I look badass?” 

“A little.” You teased. “You’ll look more badass when the tattoo is finished.” 

That earned you a snort from him. “What, fifty percent of a tattoo doesn’t cut it?” His reflection flashed you a genuine smile, that lopsided grin affecting you the way it always does, spiking your body temp and rushing the thump of your heart. 

“Nope. Though, if your intention is to tell the world that you have commitment issues-”

“I do not have commitment issues-”

“Then what kind of issues do you have?” 

Eddie parted the needle from his skin, taking a moment to glance wryly over his shoulder in your direction. 

“You.” It was punctuated by a tongue that peeked out from between his lips. You followed suit, shoulders shaking as you chuckled.

Silence threatened to fall for a moment then, but Eddie put a stop to that. “Keep talking.”

“Huh?”

His voice was quiet, muttered like he was biting the inside of his cheek as he spoke. “Hurts less when we’re talking.”

You smiled, watching as he avoided your eye contact in the mirror, focusing on his arm as a subtle blush began to creep onto his cheeks. Tempting as it was to tease, you opted for a more neutral topic.

“Which is better, sour candy or chocolate?”

You could barely see his eyebrows furrow behind his curtain of curls as he considered your question. “Chocolate.”

“You’re crazy.”

He barked out a laugh. “After all the ridiculous shit I’ve said, that’s what crosses the line for you?”

You shook your head, amping up your reaction for his benefit; he was laughing, and it was music to your ears. You were greedy for more of it. 

“Sour candy is a whole experience, chocolate is just sweet! That’s all it has going for it!”

Eddie gawked but kept his eyes trained on his skin. “What do you have against sweets?”

You rolled your eyes, flopping from your stomach to your back and staring up at the water stain on Eddie’s ceiling. “I haven’t got anything against sweets… I just like a little tart to go with it. Oh hang on, that reminds me-”

You stuck your hand into the plastic bag you’d brought with you, producing a variety pack of cheap Halloween candies. “Do you normally get trick-or-treaters? I thought we could pour these into a bowl and set it out on the porch- you know, so we don’t have to keep answering the door.”

Eddie Shook his head. “Nah, not a lot of kids who live here. Those who do always high-tail it to the neighborhoods where the good shit is, like-”

“Loch Nora?” you finished, smirking. 

Nodding his approval, Eddie echoed, “Loch Nora.”

“Well in that case,” you yanked open the bag of candy so hard that a few individually wrapped pieces were flung onto the bedspread as well as the floor below. “I guess we’ll have to eat all of this ourselves.”

Eddie paused his tattooing to glance at a fun-sized packet of sour gummy worms that had landed on the carpet beside him. “Gummy worms?” he asked.

You flicked the back of his head while the needle was off his skin. “Uh, yeah, they’re delicious.”

“Did you at least get candy corn?”

You gagged. “Candy corn?!”

The two of you passed the next hour like that, debating about various arbitrary topics and inevitably disagreeing on almost all of them. There were only three things that you both agreed on without any debate whatsoever: Santa Claus was the superior holiday mascot, Joan Jett could easily beat Cyndi Lauper in a fight, and The Empire Strikes Back was way better than A New Hope.

When Eddie was finally finished with his tattoo, you were off the bed in an instant and already reaching for the antibacterial soap. 

“You should wash it under some warm water first before anything gross has a chance to get in there-”

“Hey hey hey, whoa hold on!” Eddie was laughing, eyes wide as he smiled at you. Your hand was already encircled around his wrist, tugging his arm (and the person attached to it) toward the bathroom. “Ace, you haven’t even looked at it yet, c’mon you’re bruising the artist’s ego here.” 

You sighed but couldn’t hide the rueful grin that danced on your pursed lips. Softening your vice like grip on his wrist, you shifted your hands to cradle his forearm and survey the last hour’s work.

“It looks good, Eddie… really good, actually.” You absently swiped a thumb over the soft skin of his wrist. “If you’d told me it was professionally done, I’d totally believe you.”

“Yeah?” He looked up from where your thumb stroked the base of his forearm, eyes shining.

“Yeah,” you smirked. “Of course, I’d tell you to try and get your money back, but-”

“Oh shove it up your ass, Sweet Tart.” The playful shoulder-check had you letting go of his arm, but both of your faces were painted with ear-to-ear smiles. 

Eddie washed his new tattoo in the bathroom sink, admiring the way the bats stretched and shifted with every flex of his forearm. Your mouth hurt, as did the muscles in your cheeks; you couldn’t stop smiling. He was so happy with his work, and you had to admit that he had actually done a really good job with that tattoo machine. 

“We’ve got to get you out of Indiana, Munson,” you murmured to the mirror where he continued to scrutinize his work from every angle. “I think you may have just found your calling.” 

His eyes were wide and shining with pride as they glanced your way. “You think?” 

You nodded, that saccharine smile stubbornly staying put on your lips. To be fair, you didn’t fight it.

“You’re coming with me, then.” Eddie replied, his own smile glowing in the dying light above the bathroom mirror.

There it was- that familiar fire beneath the skin of your cheeks.

“Oh I am, huh?” 

“Hell yeah.” Eddie braced his arm on the doorway, leaning over you until your faces were mere inches apart. “We’re stronger together, remember?”

Breathe. Breathe… Why can’t you breathe?

You’d barely managed a nod before Eddie was ducking around you through the doorway, grabbing your hand, and leading you back to his room. 

“Your turn, Ace.”

Oh yeah, you were also getting a tattoo today. You’d almost forgotten. Were you nervous? You weren’t sure. Actually, yes, you were very nervous- not so much about the tattoo as you were for where the tattoo would be. 

In minutes, you were both sitting on Eddie’s bedroom floor- Eddie readying everything he needed for your new ink, and you sitting eerily still as your soul started to feel like it might leave your body.

“Ace,”

Eyes refocusing, you blinked a few times. “Yeah?”

Eddie’s expression was calm, sympathetic to the inward freak-out he had a feeling you were on the verge of. “We don’t have to do this, you know. I wouldn’t hold it against you.”

You tried to laugh, but it came out sounding a little more strained than you had intended. “Hah…you saying I have commitment issues?”

The corner of his mouth quirked up, but Eddie’s eyebrows stayed knitted together above his big brown eyes. “No,” he murmured. His voice was soft, as if he were speaking to a stray animal and trying not to spook it. “I guess I’m just… trying to give you an out, so you don’t feel pressured or anything.”

You shook your head, “I don’t want an out.”

Eddie blinked, “No?”

“No.”

There was a second of silence between the two of you before you both took in a collective breath, exhaling simultaneously and giggling when you both realized that you were breathing in sync. Perfect harmony; sour and sweet, nervous but willing. 

“You, uh…” Eddie stammered, his eyes flicking down to your lap and back up to your face. “...you still want it on your hip?”

Your heart rate doubled. 

“Um, yeah.” you awkwardly shifted your weight onto your knees, grabbing hold of your waistband and unbuttoning your shorts. You shimmied them over your hips, revealing the rest of your leotard- leotard, Eddie realized. Not a tank top. You were wearing a black leotard. It was almost like the kind that he’d seen ballerinas wear, except it cut so high on your hips that he was sure it wouldn’t be allowed in any of the dance studios he could think of, and….yep. YEP, it was practically a thong. Your ass was out. You were sitting on the floor of his bedroom with your ass out. 

Chill out, Munson! He screamed inwardly at himself, Chill the fuck out!

Of course, you couldn’t tell that there was a war going on between Eddie’s ability to function and the short-circuiting that threatened to render him unable to do anything but stare at you. All you could see was the way his jaw had gone slack and his eyes bugged out of their sockets.

You smiled shyly, a twinge of something between satisfaction and guilt nudging at your heartstrings. “I figured this thing would be less awkward than if I was sitting here in my underwear,” you laughed nervously as you gestured to your leotard.

Eddie gulped. He couldn’t see much of a difference. “Yeah, totally.” 

A beat passed. You grabbed a bag of gummy worms from the floor, tearing it open with a crinkle of the plastic that would not have been so loud if the two of you weren’t dead silent. You bit into the candy where the color changed from pink to blue, then finally muttered through your chewing, “Ready when you are.” 

Eddie blinked rapidly, taking his Sharpie in his hands. “Uh, yeah… yeah, okay.” 

With your free hand, you pointed to the part of your hip where your flesh naturally creased as your thigh met your pelvis. 

“Is here good?”

Eddie gulped. 

“Yeah, that’s good.” But Eddie was very much not good. He was the opposite of good, he felt like he was malfunctioning. When he placed his free hand on your upper thigh, he almost apologized. Why the hell did he feel like he had to apologize? He had no clue. His palms were sweating- did you feel how sweaty his palms were? Oh god. He forgot what a bat looked like- you were trusting his artistic skills enough for him to permanently ink his drawing into your skin and he couldn’t even remember what a goddamn bat looked li- oh, wait, he had them on his own forearm now. Eddie glanced at his arm, reminding himself what a goddamn bat looked like. 

He’s never felt like more of a nervous idiot than right now. 

Meanwhile, you felt like you were about to explode.

His hand was warm. So warm as he grasped your thigh. Whenever he’d touched you before, there was always a barrier, some form of separation between his skin and yours- jeans, a sweater, a flannel. 

A leather jacket.

That’s right- he had taken his jacket back. Maybe you were reading too deep into things, but you had this unshakable feeling that taking back that jacket had been a message. 

We’re just friends. Nothing more.

But if that was true, then why was he looking at your thighs the way he was? Why had he looked at you the way he did when he said you should go with him when he leaves Hawkins? 

He wasn’t your boyfriend… you knew that.

So why couldn’t you shake this undeniably girlfriendish ache in your chest?

“Okay.” Eddie’s voice jolted you out of your downward spiral into your very inconvenient feelings. “Check that out in the mirror, make sure you like it.”

You straightened up, walking on your knees until you faced the mirror leaning against the wall and inspected the tiny, perfect little bat that he’d drawn on the fullest part of your hip.

It matched the bats that now decorated his arm, now surrounded by an angry red halo that bloomed across his skin. Once that bat was inked, it would be something connecting you and Eddie forever- a shared experience, a secret that the two of you would always be in on. 

Suddenly, you realized that in this moment there wasn’t a single thing you wanted more than a matching tattoo with Eddie Munson.

Well, there was one thing. But you had a feeling that wasn’t happening tonight. The tattoo, however…

“I love it.” You looked over your shoulder at Eddie, but his eyes were a little too busy staring at your practically naked behind to meet your gaze. 

“Ahem.”

Breaking free of his trance, Eddie shook his head a tad, which drew a small chuckle from your smirking lips. Eddie couldn’t help but smile too, albeit more shyly than you.

“Distracted?” You teased, unable to hold back your glee at this kind of attention- any kind of attention- from Eddie. 

He sighed, blinking rapidly while he finally met your eyes. There was something new in the way he was looking at you- if you didn’t know better you might call it frustration, but it was an amused sort of frustration. Almost like his eyes were saying “what am I going to do with you?” but through sunglasses tinted with desire. 

You wanted to bottle that, stow it away for emergencies. Wanted to preserve the way that gaze made you feel so that you could experience it over and over again. 

“No.” Eddie murmured through a rueful grin. “Lie down, it’ll be easier to ink the skin while it’s flat.” You did as he instructed, feeling the crinkle of newspaper underneath the skin of your rear. Once again, you found yourself staring up at the water stain on Eddie’s ceiling until his face came into view, looking down at you as he readied the tattoo machine. 

“Are you?” You heard him ask. 

You raised an eyebrow. “Huh?”

The pads of Eddie’s fingers poked and prodded at the skin around where your tattoo would soon have an indefinite spot on your hip, and you wondered if he could tell that your temperature shot up ten degrees each time you felt his hands on you.

“Are you distracted?” he clarified. “Because it hurts less when you’ve got something else to focus on.” 

“Oh.” Suddenly, your mind went blank. Of course, the moment you wanted something to distract you, all ideas turned tail and ran. “Um…”

Snap!

Your jaw dropped as the elastic of your leotard snapped back to your skin from where Eddie had pulled it away with his pointer finger. “Where’d you even get this thing?” 

Now it was your turn to short-circuit.

“Uh-” You stammered, interrupted by the machine beginning to buzz. 

Eddie didn’t wait for you to finish your thought before reminding you what he’d asked. “C’mon, Sweet Tart, where’d you get the leotard?”

You knew he was trying to distract you so you didn’t feel the pain, but you couldn’t help the tensing of your muscles as the needle pierced your skin. You winced, staring at the water stain with a newfound intensity. “Dance store.” you gritted through lips that formed a tight line. 

“Dance store, huh?” You could hear the smile through Eddie’s words. “And why were you in a dance store?”

You huffed out a short, breathy laugh, careful to keep your hip still as Eddie’s needle continued to do its work. “I was making a Flashdance costume. Heard about this Halloween party a few weeks ago, but then we made the tattoo plans… and I had already bought the leotard, so…”

It was disconcerting to speak with Eddie without looking at him; he was a very expressive person, always talking with his hands, always making sure that he looked you in the eyes when you spoke to him. But now he was focused on his work on your hip, leaving your eyes to shift between staring at his ceiling and fluttering closed.

“You were going to wear this thing to a party?” he asked, incredulous. 

Your eyebrows wrinkled over your closed eyes. “I would’ve worn tights under it…” 

He snorted. “That wouldn’t have made a difference.”

You winced, groaning as the needle hit a nerve that particularly stung. “What- ah, shit- what are you trying to say?” 

The buzzing stopped for a moment. “Fuck, you okay?” Eddie’s face leaned into your field of vision, his frizzy brown hair backlit into a halo by the light from the lamp behind him. “You want to take a break?”

You shook your head, taking a mental snapshot of how ethereal he looked like this. “No, you can keep going, I’m fine.” 

Cautiously, Eddie got back to work. A few wordless seconds ticked by before you spoke. 

“What did you mean, ‘that wouldn’t have made a difference’?”

Eddie’s reply was matter-of-fact, but you could have sworn that you heard a hint of protectiveness in his voice when he said, “Tights or no tights, the whole party would have been staring at your ass, Sweet Tart.”

The “T” sound in “Tart” was soft this time. So soft, it was barely there at all, and it almost sounded like he’d just called you sweetheart. If only. You’d give anything to be Eddie’s sweetheart.

Whether he’d meant to blend that consonant or not, it made you brave. “Is that a bad thing?”

A pause. Then, “Is this a trap?”

“Answer the question, would a bunch of people staring at my ass be a bad thing?”

Eddie sighed. “This is definitely a trap,” he muttered, before replying “No, Ace, objectively it would not be a bad thing. But sometimes people view girls differently when they walk around with their asses out.”

“Do you look at me differently when my ass is out?” You were being cheeky, you knew it. 

“No, I don’t look at you differently.” came his instant response, muttered through nearly-closed lips. “I just look at you.”

Nothing could stand against your smile, not even you. “Yeah, that much I could see in the mirror.”

“You don’t sound too upset about that.”

This was different from the flirting you were used to with Eddie. Your regular flavor of flirtation had always been surface-level banter; nothing past a jab here and there, a joke at his expense or a nickname thrown your way. 

Now? You were talking about the way he looked at your body, and the fact that he could tell that you liked when he looked. The two of you were in uncharted territory, and you buzzed under his touch in time with the inky needle at the beautiful unknown of it all. 

“Okay, the outline is done but I’m about to start filling it in.” Eddie warned. “This part hurts a little more. You wanna take a break?”

You nodded. While Eddie jumped up to get you both a glass of water, you sat up on your elbows and peered over at your hip to get a look at your new ink. When you saw it, you gasped so fervently that you startled yourself.

It was perfect. The perfect little bat. 

It wasn’t completely symmetrical. The outline was a tad thicker in certain places than others. But those imperfections made it his. And the fact that it was on your skin made it yours. 

You couldn’t wait to wake up and stare at it like this every single day. 

Eddie returned a moment later with two mismatched cups of tap water. Once you’d both rehydrated, he got to work replacing the needle at the end of the machine with a new one, as well as changing out various attachments and fiddling with a knobby-looking piece until he seemed satisfied with what he’d changed.

 You were impressed with how intensely focused Eddie was on this sort of work; it didn’t seem to be taking him long to get the hang of this. It also didn’t take him long to come up with another topic of conversation that teetered on the line between friendly and flirty.

“Ever played Fuck, Marry, Kill?”

You had not, but the title of the game brought an unexpected chuckle out of you. “Edward Munson, I am a lady! At least take me out to dinner first-”

“I’m going to take that as a no.” Eddie chuckled, and you could hear his deadpan in the tone of his voice. “I say three people’s names and you have to tell me which you’d fuck, which you’d marry, and which you’d kill. Comprende?”

“Uhh-” whatever you’d been about to say was cut short by a harsher buzz than before, accompanied by the aggressive sting of needles on your skin. “Mmh, shit, okay yeah sure let’s play.”

Eddie smiled to himself. He wasn’t sure why he loved the little noises and whispered curses that spilled from your mouth while he tattooed you, but he honestly thought they might be the cutest sounds he’d ever heard. You were taking the pain like a champ- he was actually pretty proud of you in this moment as you remained still through the sting.

“Lars Ulrich, James Hetfield, and Kirk Hammett”

You rolled your eyes. Eddie had ensured over your many rides in his van this summer that every Metallica song he’d played had been an educational experience. Eddie had picked up a cassette of their debut album in July, and ever since he’d become obsessed. Already, he was trying to persuade the other members of his band to figure out how to play The Four Horsemen by ear. 

Needless to say, you knew enough about the band to at least answer the question. 

“Well I’m killing Lars for sure.”

“Poor Lars never stood a chance.”

You grinned, willing the distraction into something great enough to numb the pain. “And I think I’m gonna have to fuck Hetfield.”

“‘Have to fuck Hetfield,’ such a sacrifice.” 

You carefully stretched your arms up to rest above your shoulders, cradling your head on your hands like a pillow. “Hey, if someone’s got to do it, I’ll take one for the team.”

You heard him snort, then after a moment’s quiet he added, “So you’re marrying Kirk Hammett, then?”

“I guess so.”

“What makes Kirk marriage material? Over the other two, I mean.”

You thought about Kirk Hammett’s wild, dark curls. His build. His brown button eyes. The way he looked holding a guitar.

“I don’t know, there’s just something about him.”

Eddie thought about the way he’d been trying to make himself look more like a rockstar ever since he’d first seen the tiny, grainy picture of the Metallica members in the corner of a page of Rolling Stone; he’d been bumming copies off Jeff’s subscription since the seventh grade. How he’d started growing out his hair after seeing Kirk’s long, black mane. He smiled. 

He must be doing something right.

“Alright, Mrs. Hammett,” He quipped, “My turn, hit me with bachelorettes one through three, please.”

You thought over your options, trying to think of women you’d heard him mention before. Wondering if he thought any of them had something in common with you, and praying to God he didn’t kill them.

“Olivia Newton-John,”

Already, Eddie was descending into a fit of giggles. 

“Why are you laughing? She’s pretty!”

Eddie launched into a falsetto rendition of the chorus from Grease’s Hopelessly Devoted to You, and you were instantly fighting the giggles too. 

“Shut up! I’m not done yet. Olivia Newton-John… have you seen Fast Times?”

His response came in a tone of voice that was the vocal equivalent of a side-eye. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I don’t know if you know who Phoebe Cates is.”

“Oh,” Eddie sighed dreamily, “I know who Phoebe Cates is.” 

You rolled your eyes, but chuckled nonetheless. “Okay then- Olivia Newton-John, Phoebe Cates, and Carrie Fisher.”

Eddie barked out a joyous “Ah!” before answering, “Well this is easy, Ace, say goodbye to Newton-John!”

You mock-gasped. “You’re killing Sandy?”

“I’m killing Sandy.”

“That is brutal. She was so innocent, too.”

Eddie squinted at the half-filled tattoo, smirking into his explanation. “Okay, I see the appeal, Ace, I truly do. That outfit at the end is killer.” He paused. Should he say it? Would he be too obvious if he did? 

Ah, fuck it. 

“I’m a sucker for a woman in red shoes, let me tell ya. However-” Eddie quickly glazed over that last sentence, as well as any opening you might have gotten to think about how that might relate to you. “-I’ve gotta fuck Phoebe Cates. Because… y’know-”

“Boobies?” you beat him to the punch.

Eddie confirmed with a matter-of-fact “Boobies.” He glanced up at your face for a moment, curious to see if he could read what you thought of his answers, but you were staring pensively at his ceiling, expression unreadable. “And you have to have known I was marrying Leia the moment she was an option.” 

“You have a thing for Princess Leia?”

“Are you joking?” Eddie asked, incredulously. “How could I not? The woman’s the definition of a spitfire, she kicks ass and takes names. Not to mention, she’s got a thing for scoundrels.” 

You hummed. “Do you think you’re a scoundrel, Eddie?” 

“Well I’m certainly not a scruffy-looking nerf herder, I’ll tell you that much.”

You winced playfully, “A nerf herder you are not… but you are a bit scruffy.”

“You’ve got me there, princess.”

Eddie went silent. The nickname had just slipped out- all this talk of scoundrels and princesses and strong women who weren’t afraid of a fight and before he knew it, he was seeing more similarities between you and Leia than he’d realized were there before. 

Princess had just seemed right. It just slipped out. 

The line between friendship and dangerous territory had been so clearly drawn in Eddie’s mind before tonight. Where had he gone wrong? That once clear line was getting blurry.

Eddie was absolutely convinced that he would probably find a way to single handedly ruin your friendship before he was finished filling in your tattoo- which you would inevitably hate, because it would remind you of the asshole who you used to be friends with before he made things weird between you.

“My turn,” your voice cut through Eddie’s downward spiral, drawing a relieved sigh from him that tickled the skin of your thigh. “Let’s make this round more interesting. Only names of people from Hawkins.”

“Hm, that is interesting.” he mused, the needle inching its way toward the last remaining centimeter of bare skin left within the outline. “Let me think… Chief Hopper-”

You barked out a laugh, “Oh great start, Eds.”

“Chief’s a good looking guy! I don’t know why you’re laughing!” but Eddie was smiling ear to ear, delighted that his awkward apprehension had already begun to dissipate. “Principal Higgins-”

“Are you only going to give me old men as options?”

Eddie was going to do exactly that, because he didn’t want to picture you marrying or- God forbid- fucking any men in Hawkins that you might actually enjoy doing either of those things with. He wasn’t jealous, per se… but none of the shitheads in Hawkins were good enough for you. Eddie wasn’t even good enough for you; not yet, at least. He could picture a future version of himself one day taking his chances with you, once you’d both skipped town and found your way in some thriving city somewhere. 

You were both too good for this place- you were the first person to make him think that about himself.

“What was that security guard’s name at the mall? Average joe looking guy? Quentin? Quincey?”

“Oh, you mean Quinn?”

“Knew his name started with a Q.” Eddie softly bit his bottom lip as he finished the last bit of your bat’s wing. “Hopper, Higgins, and Quinn. Those are your options.”

You groaned. “These choices suck, can I just kill them all?”

“I kinda like it when you go all bloodthirsty, Ace.”

You rolled your eyes before letting them flutter closed. “Ugh, well I’m obviously killing Higgins… he’s never been nice to you and all he cares about are school sports. I guess… I mean if I have to, I’ll fuck Hopper.”

Eddie was beside himself with giggles, “I mean, that’s one way to get out of a speeding ticket.”

“You’re lucky I can’t smack you right now.” You ignored Eddie’s snickering and continued. “And I don’t think I’d mind being married to Quinn, he always smiles at me and asks how my day was. Plus he’s kind of cute, he’s got nice hair.”

Eddie wrinkled his nose. “I don’t see it.”

You laughed, and the jingling tone of your voice suddenly sounded too loud as the buzzing of Eddie’s machine stopped. 

“Alright, Ace,” Eddie announced, leaning back to survey his work. “Check out your new ink.”

You didn’t need to look at it again to know it would be perfect, but you looked anyway. You stood on your sleeping legs and gazed at the little black bat on your hip- it sat beautifully balanced on the skin framed by your high cut leotard, and you knew at once that you’d think of Eddie each time you saw it. This was exactly what you wanted- a daily reminder of exactly how he made you feel, of who he was to you. 

At this moment, it dawned on you exactly what it was that Eddie made you feel. The way you always wanted to be around him, and the way he had become a balloon that inflated your chest every time he made you laugh, and how you knew- just knew- that you’d follow him anywhere if he asked. 

You loved Eddie Munson. You were in love with him. 

And you couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot at that little asymmetrical bat.

Part 6

Taglist: @emma77645 , @rustboxstarr, @josephquinnsfreckles, @rozxartaki, @sheneedsrocknroll92

[spectral-phases]

Tim Drake as Rook (and Blackbird)

I've seen posts floating around trying to suggest new names and new costumes for him, and I've seen really great designs (u/Hunkerdown_son's Gray Ghost suit) that I like a lot more than what he's gotten. (Poor kid's gone back to Robin and was feuding with Damian about who's the better Robin? Like, boy, you could be in college, you are a whole-ass adult now, god damn, can the writers let you develop). There's Cardinal, Flamebird, Redbird, every red bird there is. And like, I get it, Red Robin was one of his more iconic runs (pre-Flashpoint), his OYL costume was primarily red, he was Red Robin wearing basically a Robin costume for a little while there too.

One of the name's I've seen is Rook. And that fascinates me. I actually had a hazy image of it pop into my mind, like a terrible "got any more pixels?" JPG picture of an artbook all zoomed-in and blown out one, of what that might look like.

(Artist's recreation of the above described image)

So I made it.

(Look, I know. I know. That is not how "Rook" would be stylized for the logo, but listen, listen. Cursive k basically has a mini-R in it and I was having fun with this. Okay? I don't draw much these days and I'm not a comic artist/graphic designer. I do math for a living.) (I spent very little time on the logo for Blackbird, but you get the idea. The "R" gets twisted nicely into a "B" for Blackbird, in my opinion.)

Design choices and everything below. Very stupidly long.

Rook first because I know the color is going to be a sell.

Rook is a bird in the corvid family, with crows, so they're exceptionally smart birds. Rooks are also the name for the chess piece that can perform the trickster maneuver called castling where they trade places with the king (It's not hard to do, necessarily, just like, a 4D move compared to the normal chess moves, and not something the average person knows about). Being that he's been relegated to the "boy genius" role and he is vicious and cunning with his mind more than almost anything else (See Robin #137's "Show your face here again and we'll frame you for the kind of crimes even other hardened kills don't condone or forgive" speech, him blowing up the LoA's computers in Red Robin #8 after somehow creating a program/virus on their systems while under constant supervision, or all of Red Robin's "The Hit List" arc). (I know he's not the only one who can do or has done, things like this, but he does it a lot, is my point).

Rooks, the birds, as a symbol of death are also fascinating to connect to Tim. He's never "died" like the other Robins have, but his mantra in his introduction is basically "Batman needs a Robin." Because Batman/Bruce has been traumatized by losing his son, Jason, and is spiraling, dialing up the violence towards criminals, dialing down his ability to care whether or not he survives, destroying his interpersonal relationships in the process. Death as a symbol can mean the literal figurative death, but it also can mean the end of a phase of life, of letting something go, and moving onto a new chapter.

And that's what Bruce needed to do. He, of course, would always miss Jason, but he needed to move past the pain, move past the agony, become what Batman was supposed to be again. Tim's the one who got him there. He's the one who convinced Bruce to open that new door. Tim's the one who put the "family" in Bat-Family because Bruce sure as shit was not going to do that. Here, this post explains that a bit more eloquently.

https://www.tumblr.com/thattimdrakeguy/190044791065/would-you-consider-tim-the-heart-of-the-batfamily

Rooks, the birds, are also blue/purple in color, which I think is great for Tim. I know, I know, everyone wants him with red. I get. I really, truly, get it. But let's just...take a step back and go outside of the box a little for his color. Now, I know, not everyone keeps the same color consistently (the number of times Nightwing has just bounced between Blue and Red, for example), but there is usually a "main" color strongly associated with each member of the Bat-Family.

Nightwing gets blue, duh (and also bluebird). Red Hood gets red (and also Nightwing when he's having a shit time and also Kate Kane's Batwoman and also Damian's Redwing). Damian's Robin often gets green (though I low-key associate green with Tim's Robin more than Damian's, Tim's no longer going to be Robin here, so Damian can have it). The Signal gets yellow (and so does Cass's Batgirl/Black Bat/Orphan). Stephanie as Spoiler/Batgirl has purple (and so does Huntress and Barbara's Batgirl). And Oracle gets lime green.

We don't need any more red symbols in the family. It's already out of hand without throwing Tim in there. And out of all the siblings, he's the only one without a distinct color.

Anyway. If we dip into tertiary colors, we can fix all of that. I made a mock-up of what I mean drawing the symbols mostly by memory in a few minutes. For Huntress/Helena Bertinelli, I just used her mask.

See how Tim as Rook gets to be wedged in between Nightwing's blue and Stephanie's purple with Violet? Tim Drake is a Dick Grayson fan first, Nightwing fan second, and person a distant third, so going more blue with his scheme is a much better fit. You could come up with a name for him to be teal, but violet is better for Rook, and like he's also close to Stephanie's Spoiler/Batgirl colors and say what you will of his relationship with her, she is important to his character as friend/girlfriend/friendly-ex. And Dick went from "Red/green/yellow" to "Blue/black" so Tim can go from "Red/green/yellow/black" to "violet/black."

Oh, and it lets him get his "R" back. The one from the 90's that's just so iconic that he was literally introduced with as Robin. If we can have a million different bat symbols then we can have two different R's floating around and no one will be confused.

And anyway, with all of that in mind, and that terrible image haunting me, I decided to draw a quick reference sheet for what Rook might look like. I think I spent like 2 hours on the final version, with an hour and a half on sketches I hated/deleted. Anyway.

I had a nice dark green in here instead of sky blue and a dark purple instead of dark blue, but then I was looking at the purple/green combo and "I'm in dangered" my way out of the Joker color-combo.

Instead I decided, since he's a young person and the violet I chose was sort of blacklight-esque, then why not make him look like some kinda blacklight glowing guy. The youth these days still love that kinda stuff, right? And it ties into the themes of being a light in the dark and crime-scene stuff and all that. The colors came from how lead glass reacts under black light, and while I imagine the violet parts do show up in black light, it's the light blue parts that actually glow in blacklight.

If you want to draw this design or make up your own Rook design or tweak this design go ahead, like, for example if you wanted him to have the sharp pointy cuffs that I couldn't get to look good at all (but please tag me if you do, I wanna see it, unless you're shit-talking me. Then don't tag me.)(Shit talking means "my god, this asshole who cannot draw at all" and not "It was okay, but I thought it might be better like this/with some tweaks/more coherent colors" one I can take and the former will make me cry).

(If the notes are hard to read, they will be in text at the very bottom)

Obviously, I got a little too obsessed with the mask for my own good. I didn't want him to just have a domino mask, I liked the protectiveness of his Red Robin cowl (if not the look), and I wanted more coverage while also having his hair out because he has really good hair. So it goes around the back of his head in a band, protecting his temples and the back of his head, but nothing else for his hair to show. It is supposed to blend with his hair so we get the illusion of the cowl, but drawn by someone better/more time/shading it'd be fairly obvious up front where his hair and mask are, but less so from the back. And Tim has done the mask under a mask gag before and a self-destructing mask, so I feel like him having approximately 30-billion fail-safes to prevent it from just being pulled off of him is in-character.

And then I decided, that since Tim is Nightwing fan second, he can have a red version of the outfit named "Blackbird" for when he's feeling a little moody or feisty the same as Nightwing has the red Nightwing suit for...reasons ("We wear red in new continuities" or whatever. Why have one outfit when you can have several?). This time the colors were inspired by red cadmium glass under blacklight and the red winged blackbird.

Red Winged Blackbird's symbolically are "a sign of change and transformation. They represent the power of love and compassion, as well as the need to take action in order to make positive changes in your life. The red winged blackbird is a symbol for spiritual growth, inner strength, courage, determination and self-awareness." Which. You know. Fits Tim. And there's red. So. I feel like that's an easy sell. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I wanted to reference his OYL, Post-Crisis Red Robin (regular and data alter), and Robin (Post-Crisis/Rebirth) outfits for the design. I didn't care for much of his post-Flashpoint Red Robin outifts, adding Nomura/Kingdom Hearts zippers levels of belts to him or just being Robin with two "R"s for a symbol and bad hair. You can see the OYL in the edges of the cape and the interior of the mask. Robin, Rebirth in particular, with his elbow pads and knee pads, shoulder armor and the shape of his boots. Red Robin in the bandolier harness/belt thing he's got, but every thing on it is one of those hammer space utility belt pouches the Bats are so well known for, so he can have a bajillion of them as the "tool using" Robin. The "V" center and arm-stripe/finger-stripe combo is, obviously, reminiscent of Nightwing, and his Red Robin data alter, which is also reflected in the larger mask (though the nose is not as beak-like).

(OYL References, the dialogue in the second to last panel of the first reference is misattributed, in case you were confused as to why Tim is dissing his outfit and Dick is talking like Tim)

(Red Robin References)

(Robin References)

And obviously, I just put his "R" symbol on a circle and called it a day. Although I was clearly going off of memory instead of a direct reference, but whatever. Whatever. It fits better in a circle the way I did it. And a circle is a better buckle/clip than the oval, which was a deliberate choice. So. Anyway.

Notes (from top left to bottom right, grouped by what they're describing):

Shoulder Shot: "We're brining back his iconic 'R' from the 90's for 'Rook. (pointing to the R symbol)." "The cape can be rolled back to reveal some light shoulder armor that doesn't change his silhouette when the cape is down (pointing to his shoulder armor and the rolled back cape that is reminiscent of his over the shoulder "black with yellow" capes)." "Feather pattern that emulates Nightwing's arm/fingerstripes (pointing to the side of his arm)." "His elbow pads have the same shape as his kneepads for the skaterboy vibe. (pointing to the pads over his arms and knees)."

Sketch of harness: "Bandolier harness hides under the cape that clips into his insignia (pointing to the symbol in the center)." "Each space is a pouch (pointing to every area between the pointed ridges (which are hollow tubes with screw caps that can also hold things for maximum hammerspace))."

The detailed shot of the mask: "The face mask is partial emotive with white lenses that have thermal and night-vision (next to the white eyes)." "The foil layer of the mask can peel off unless actively held when the mask is lifted, and cling to his skin with a static charge that makes it almost impossible to peel from his skin (pointing to the teal circuit bit that is lifted from the pointy bit of the mask (the circuits are water/sweat proof, don't worry))." "There are dozens of magnetic locks that have to hit in the right on/off pattern to life all layers of the mask. Each finger in his gloves can have an active magnetic charge, so there are over a thousand combinations (pointing to the foil layer and the inside of the mask)."

The sketches of the mask lowered and raised: "The back of the mask is made of interlocking combs that seal together with metal locks to avoid it coming off unintended (pointing to the back of the raised mask)." "Durable, flexible rubber-like material (pointing to the sides of the mask, back, and the expanding fan like section that allows it to raise while still being one-piece and the top of the mask that would roll against his forehead)." "The mask can be lifted up when the locks are undone (pointing to the raised and lowered mask and the expanding accordion like structure)."

The sketch of a side profile of his head with his bangs and face half there: "Where does the mask end and his hair begin? Like Kujo Jotaro's cap, the world may never know (pointing to the back of his head where the black mask and black hair would blend together)." "The back of the mask combs through his hair and the top layers of his hair cover it (providing an actual answer)." "The nose of the mask has padding that protects his nose from breaks and conceals the shape of his nose and cheeks (next to his nose, which is half covered by the mask)."

[sunsetkerr]

THIRTY LAPS | s.kerr

summary: you celebrate sam's thirtieth birthday [559 words]

pairing: fem!reader x sam kerr

notes: something little for sam's birthday <3

IT WAS TOO EARLY FOR HER phone to be buzzing. sam got up every day at 8:30, nothing allowed to disturb her until then. but here she was, at 7:30 with her phone going off.. over and over and over. 

"hello?" her voice was groggy with sleep, you loved her voice most when it sounded like this. you couldn't contain your grin on the other end of the phone.

"happy birthday, my love" you smiled.

all of the frustration that had built up in sam's chest faded away when she realised it was you on the phone. she hadn't even realised that it was her birthday, too tired to register anything yet. she chuckled softly, "thank you babe".

"don't be mad i woke you up, i've been waiting all day to call" sam rested her head back down onto her pillow, holding her phone to her free ear. she imagined you sitting by the phone waiting for an appropriate time to call, it would've taken all of you willpower. 

the time-zones between australia and london were difficult, you both often found it hard to find times to talk. whenever you were awake, sam would be working and training, by the time she had finished for the day, you would be ready for bed and trying to stay awake for her call.

"it's okay," she sighed with a smile, "i'm glad you woke me up". sam squinted as she looked to her bright phone screen, clicking the face-time button. you don't accept it. "i'm face-timing you, y/n" she thought you might not have seen it pop up on the screen. 

"wait, sorry" your voice crackled, as if you were moving away from the speaker, "give me a second". sam furrowed her eyebrows as she waited for you to pop-up on her screen. 

"y/n?" she asked, she couldn't hear you anymore. "y/n?" she called again. 

"yeah?"

"oh my god!" she screamed, jumping from her spot on the bed. 

there you were, standing in the doorway with a suitcase next to you. "surprise!" you cheered. 

"oh my fucking god, babe" sam held her hand to her chest, waiting for her heartbeat to return to its regular pace. she broke out in a grin as she panted in recovery. "what are you doing here?" she laughed.

you found your way over to the bed and crawled up next to her. "it's your birthday," you shrugged, "i wasn't missing this".

sam shook her head in disbelief, "i love you". you smiled, bringing your lips to hers for a kiss. "so much," she mumbled against your plush skin. 

"i love you more," you pulled away, whispering.

"thank you so much for coming," sam rested her forehead against yours, revelling in the fact that you were really there with her. not on the other side of the world, but laying in bed next to her; where you should be. "this means so much, y/n".

"i would never not come, sammy" you smiled, "you should've known something was up when i didn't message yesterday".

"you were very strategic with your messages, i thought you were just tired" she chuckled, a big grin crossing her face. 

you kissed her again, cutting off her giggles. "happy birthday, baby" you said softly. 

sam placed a kiss on your forehead, taking you in. "wouldn't be a good birthday without you here".

yourinstagram

liked by samanthakerr20, milliebright and 87,348 others

yourinstagram 30 laps around the sun, hopefully I get to see a few more ☀️☀️ I love you so much sammy k

[hedgiwithapen]

DHD: Stargate coordinates lead to [DC Comics-based dimension of your choice]

(as per messages, they are going somewhere not DC....)

The Malp showed that P-zero-K-EEE had a breathable atmosphere, decently variable temperature within acceptable range for visiting, and spectacular stone ruins. None of it looked familiar to Teal'c

"Should be fun," Jack said, putting an extra tissue packet in his pocket for Daniel. Even with the allergy medications, the poor guy could really sneeze up a storm after gate travel. 

"I can't wait to get a closer look at some of those fallen statues. They could give us an idea of what, if any, goa'uld have been there, but also so much about the civilization that existed there... If they had stoneworking technology long enough ago that--"

"Save it for after we get planetside and you actually see these rocks," Jack advised. 

The trip through the Stargate was a jolt, as always. Only it usually took mere moments, and ended with the team on solid, or solid enough, footing. 

This time, the journey continued as everyone plunged from the sky.

"Brace," Sam called a moment before they hit the sand.  

Teal'c rolled up onto an elbow. "Hm."

"Hm?" Jack groaned, sitting up himself. "That's all you got? Is hm?"

"A fall like that should have killed us." Teal'c replied. "I am uncertain as to why it didn't."

"Oh, look." Sam pointed  skyward. A massive dark spiral hung over the top of a mountain, spitting bits of lightning. "That thing must have interfered with the Stargate."

"What is it?" Jack asked.

"Well, sir, if I knew, I wouldn't have called it 'that thing', now would I?"

"She's got a point," Daniel pointed out, sneezing sand out of his nose. "No sign of the Stargate or Dial Home Device, but obvious signs of civilization..." he gestured to the dock, a single moored rowboat and shack, and in the distance, a bit of smoke over the trees and hills. "Probably a town..."

"Hello!" called a voice. A man in a white coat and purple hat ran down what had to be a path towards them, panting. "Are you alright? I saw you fall from the sky."

"We did do that." Teal'c said. 

"Are you all alright?" the man asked.

"Peachy," Jack said.

"I'm Dr. Daniel Jackson," Daniel intervened. "Sorry, could you tell us where we are? And if you've seen a Stargate--that is, a big--"

The man cut him off with an answer. "You're on Prelude Beach, of course. My, you are an odd bunch. Such unusual clothing!"

"Sure," Sam agreed. "Now, about the Stargate...?"

"Stargate," the man repeated. "I can't say that I've ever heard of that. Stars...Celestial...  oh! Do you mean the Celestica ruins?"

"Yes!" Daniel grabbed on. "Could you take us there?"

"First, could you tell us your name?" Jack said, pointedly.

"I'm Professor Laventon. And...I would, but I'm quite busy with my own research right now. Speaking of-- oh, dear." He looked around, as if trying to spot something. 

"What is it?" Sam asked.

"Three of the pokemon I was studying seem to have eluded me. Again. Would you mind helping me gather them?"

Jack coughed. Everyone turned to glance at him, sidelong. 

"I'm sorry," he said. "Pokemon? Like... Pikachu?"

"I haven't managed to catch a pikachu for my studies yet," the professor said, a little down cast.

"What is a pokemon, and how is it that you know of them,  Colonel O’Neill?" Teal'c asked.

"I don't," Jack said, his voice tight. 

"Oh, they're the little... creature...things." Sam said, frowning. "I think they were on a box of poptarts Cassandra had last time I babysat."

The professor beamed. "They are fascinating creatures, indeed! I do not know what a pop tart is. I'm after three of them, but I'm simply... not as skilled at this as I'd like to be. my hand-eye coordination....eh." he wiggled a hand. "Would any of you assist me? I'm sure I can convince the commander to give us an escort to the Coronet Highlands and the ruins if you help with the pokedex project..."

"Pokedex?" Daniel asked. 

"Yes! a collection of studies and notes on the habits and abilities of all kinds of pokemon to be found in Hisui! I have some, of course, already, but it's not proving to be a very easy task. I was studying a rowlet, cyndaquil, and oshawott, but.."

Teal'c surveyed the grassy field to the right. "Do you mean the creature that appears to be an owl, made spherical?"

"Yes! That's rowlet. Oh, could you catch her for me?"

Teal'c rolled up his sleeves.

"Oh for cryin' out loud, with a pokeball," Jack said. 

"A what, sir?" Sam asked. 

"The thing that guy's got--sorry, professor Laverton, was it? The--thing--" 

"Laventon," the professor said offering Teal'c a small reddish orb. "It's a new invention. You simply throw it at the pokemon and--well, something happens. They appear to shrink down and sit comfortably inside!"

He passed out the remaining orbs. 

"So we catch these three, uh, pokemon," Daniel clarified, "and then you take us to the Ruins?"

"After we talked to the head of the survey corps. And probably some lunch. And I can secure housing for you! the village really could use more--"

"Oh, we're not staying long," Jack said.

"I have caught the rowlet," Teal'c announced. Not to be out done, Sam searched for one of the other creatures, a shrew looking creature that somehow produced fire from its back and caught it. 

"Amazing," she said, opening the pokeball to look at the creature. "How does it do that?"

"That, my dear, is exactly what I'm trying to figure out," the Professor said, clapping Daniel on the shoulder when he managed to drop a pokeball directly on the clown-otter-thing's head. "This way to the village, come with me.”

"Oh," Jack said. "We are staying long. Great."

(note: using the show’s timeline place the events of the movie in the year 1996, which makes it theoretically, technically  possible for Jack’s dead son to have been interested in pokemon right when it started to be a thing)

[aohisworld]

MAGNETIC PULSE! 01

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ Aohi is signed into a CO-ED contract and meets her future members alongside another female member, but she’s not necessarily welcome..

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ eventual poly!ot7 x added member!oc. (ri-ki centric). content warnings: bickering, a bit of cursing? a little cringe writing.

| : ̗̀➛ MINTIE’s NOTES: Enhypen was considered a boy group prior to this chapter. Aohi was tied to girl group, XG before Enhypen. (ft. members of XG, other idols.)

| : ̗̀➛ WARNING! How I write ENHYPEN is not meant to portray the idols irl, this is my au and I write this for fun. contains angst and a little bit of bickering/awkward tension.

✧. ┊   AOHI wasn't one to be a leader, and she knew that from a very young age. She loved to follow the crowd, keep up with trends and go along with any flow her friends set.

Aohi also knew she was one to set things in stone once planned, she was always ready to do things, anything her friends asked of her or plans they wanted to do, she followed orders, that was her whole thing but..

When Aohi had to face the decision of basically being kicked out of her group, being singled out by the company for reasons she didn't know yet, all she had to work with was her manager's soft and sympathetic gaze on her, and that wasn't much.

The rest of the meeting went through one ear of hers and out the other, I mean, why wouldn't it? Why wouldn't it when the group you trained so hard to join was finally gaining recognition, and only now, did management think you weren't right for the concept and kicked you out?

"I'm really sorry, Aohi. You'll do great things, just... not with us." Yuzi spoke softly, Aohi knew her as one of the higher-ups, her manager's boss.

"But...I worked so hard.." Aohi could only blurt out, standing up from her seat. "It's not that you'll be sent back, Aohi," Yuzi did what she could to cool any emotion down before they could leave Aohi's lips.

"You're just, not the concept we want, not.. now." Yuzi chose her words deliberately as to not spark any unwanted feelings inside of Aohi, Yuzi wasn't a bad person, nor was she heartless, hell, she even treated the entirety of XG as her daughters, so Aohi couldn't be mad.

"What do you want me to do then? Where will I go?"

"You'll be moved into a co-ed project, the higher ups, and Hybe, wanted to create something new, and they picked you, Aohi." Yuzi spilled, reaching over to hold a motherly hand over the young girl's shaking fingers.

"So I'll just be put into a new group? That's it for me?" Aohi asked after a slight pause, her head was in a ramble trying to process the information given to her.

"You'll be put into Enhypen." Yuzi confirmed, Aohi paused for a bit, she was versed in various k-pop groups, being the sole reason on why she was an idol now.

"But isn't that a boy group? Why would they want to turn it into a co-ed project last minute?-" Aohi's eyebrows furrowed as her personal manager finally made a move, placing a hand on Aohi's shoulder as if to tell her to calm down. she had been sitting in the corner for a while, listening in on the conversation.

"Aohi, calm down, okay?" Her personal manager softly whispered, her hand squeezing at Aohi's shoulders, trying to ease the girl into a calmer mindset.

"I don't know-" Yuzi couldn't even continue before Aohi is being sat down by her own manager.

"How could you not know?" She challenged back, her hand retracting from under Yuzi's hold and combing itself through her hair.

"I just don't, Aohi!" Yuzi was starting to get frustrated quickly.

Aohi's questions and irritated feelings was starting to frustrate her as she couldn't explain why, why BE:LIFT decided to pick Aohi, why she had to let her go—

"Listen, you don't have to do it, but it is a choice." Yuzi spoke in a tone that felt finalized, in other words, she was telling Aohi to make a choice.

"I've seen your progress, and I don't want a talented person like you to go back to Fukuoka without a chance." Yuzi continued.

Aohi could only stare back at her, she could feel the shock buzz in her body, her jaw threatening to slack open.

"Aohi, please take this offer, I promise you, it'll be worth it, you won't get far with us, with staying in our company." Yuzi had surrended to begging Aohi.

As a motherly figure, she didn't want Aohi to give up because she wasn't in XG— this whole decision to let her go so that HYBE could bring her up for their co-ed project, was better than any offer they could've gotten for Aohi.

Silence filled the room for a few moments, but to Aohi it felt like forever.

She didn't want to give up easily, XG was her group, she basically grew up with the members like they were her older sisters.

Aohi knew they wouldn't want to see her retreat back to Japan, not when she worked so hard to train to be an idol.

"Well?" Yuzi asked after a moment of silence from Aohi. "Aohi, you have the choice, but you need to make it now."

Aohi's throat felt dry as she wondered, if she returned back to Japan, would her family be disappointed, seeing her come back, not even a year after debuting?—

"Okay, I'll accept the offer."

— It felt unreal, Aohi staring at her old dorm bed, which was hers for not even a year, sitting down on the bare bed, running her hand through it. God, she really didn't want to go— nobody did.

Hinata just watched Aohi silently sit in their bedroom for a while with a heavy heart. If she could just keep Aohi here, with them, she would've.

"Ready to go, batsy?" Hinata's voice broke Aohi out of her thoughts, making the girl look up at one of her sister figures. "Nata-nee, won't you miss me?" Aohi sadly mumbled, looking back down at the bed, still unsure of her decision.

"Aish, just because I'm not crying doesn't mean I'm not sad that you're leaving." Hinata sighed, forcing Aohi to scoot over her bed as she sat beside her.

"You don't know how upset I was when I heard of your termination from XG." She spoke, rubbing gently at the younger girl's shoulder.

"We adore you so much, batsy. You don't even know." Hinata squeezed Aohi's shoulder, feeling her eyes sting at the threat of tears.

"Sometimes, things go this way, and just because we won't be idols together, doesn't mean that's it for you." Aohi looked up at Hinata, sadness evident in her brown orbs.

"What if Yuzi was wrong? What if I'm not well received?" Aohi asked, she felt like she had regressed back to her childish self, asking her older sister things she wasn't supposed to be worrying about.

"Well, then you have us, we'll always be here for you to fall into. We'll be your safety net." Hinata smiled, pinching at Aohi's nose, trying to cheer the younger up.

"Let's go, we've wallowed long enough, it's time, Aohi." Hinata slowly stood up, holding Aohi's hand like a sister would to her younger sibling, squeezing tight in reassurance.

Aohi left the old dorm room, an ache of emotions beating in her chest.

"Aohi, take care of yourself out there, okay?" Harvey approached the young girl.

There was barely any sunshine outside, it was as if the world knew how upset Aohi was, her emotions controlling the weather.

"I don't want you to go, I really don't." Juria said in hushed whispers beside her, hooking her arm around Aohi's tightly, hoping her grip could possibly make Aohi stay.

Juria whispered her words to Aohi because she felt like she would be reprimanded if anyone even heard her loud enough.

"I don't want to, either, Juria." Aohi rubbed her hand in the tired girl's head, trying to comfort her however she could.

Aohi sighed, the girl barely keeping her composure before dropping her grip from her luggage and pulling Juria into her arms, holding each other tightly.

"Be strong, batsy." Harvey approached the two as she placed her arms over their embrace, hugging Aohi and Juria tightly.

It was ironic though, being told to stay strong when Harvey's morning skincare was easily ruined by the salty tears that ran down her face.

"They better treat you well at be-lift." Cocona punched Aohi's exposed shoulder, laughing through her own tears.

The rest of XG joined along, trying to turn the sad moment into a memorable one. They wanted to remember their batsy in good spirits.

It felt like time had fastened for Aohi, because their manager couldn't be any faster when she had entered the girls' shared dorms. Aohi could hear her name being called, a shaky sigh leaving her lips.

Aohi picked up her luggage, trying to pull it out of the dormitory. Their manager offered her help with the bags that didn't fit in the suitcase, throwing it over her shoulder.

As Aohi walked further and further away from the girls, she dreaded leaving the dorms even more, because she knew— she knew that if she steps out, she won't be considered a part of XG anymore.

She'll be leaving her sisters behind. She—

As if her thoughts was easily read by the girls, Jurin called after Aohi one last time. Her sisters called her name. "Aohi!" She swore the world stopped for a moment, just for them.

"You have a home here, with us. If everything gets too much, you can always run to us." Jurin left her with words of reassuring.

Even as Aohi was leaving Jurin's duty to lead, to care for her members— to be a pillar of stability for her sisters, shows.

Aohi let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head. "Always such a leader, Jurin-nee."

AT HYBE HEADQUARTERS, TUESDAY, 9:32 AM—

✧. ┊    The meeting room could be considered empty the way it was silent, The current members of ENHYPEN had woken earlier than they should be to meet up; per their management's request, to meet the potentially new members of ENHYPEN.

"Are they here yet?" Heeseung grumbled from his seat. A tired Ri-ki was on his shoulder, using his hyung as a pillow to try and catch the hours of sleep he's missing by being at the meeting.

Sunghoon was busy spacing out by his seat, while Sunoo was trying not to doze off in his own chair.

"Just be patient a little longer, boys." Their manager tried to soothe the boys' tired annoyance.

"Sorry, sorry!" An unfamiliar staff member entered into the room, two masked girls entering after them. Heeseung looked up, slightly curious.

He assumed from the way they seem to stick to the staff member, and how their own manager lit up at the sight of them, they must've been the reason for the meeting.

"Took you while enough." The manager glanced at the staff member in charge of the girls. Heeseung wasn't sure what to think of the two girls who huddled together.

Aohi already felt close to her member, well, even if they only met a few minutes ago, it was a few minutes longer than the boys of ENHYPEN. Aohi had gotten to know her unnie’s name, Xiulin.

Xiulin was in a similar situation as Aohi, picked off from a group to join Aohi in the co-ed project, 'How considerate.' Aohi thought at the time, at least she didn't feel like she was alone.

Of course, Aohi felt awful that Xiulin had gone through the same thing, especially when she had heard that her unnie was the leader of her own group.

Aohi could only imagine how Xiulin felt.

"Boys, this is Aohi and Xiulin. They'll be the new additions to Enhypen." The staff's gaze turned from the boys to the girls, Ri-ki and Sunoo were now at full attention, glancing at the girls with an awkward look.

Although, the silence must've been unbearable since after just a minute had passed, the staff ushered any one of the boys to say something.

"Yang Jungwon, it's nice to meet you two.." Jungwon took the first move for the group, bowing professionally before reaching his hands over. A handshake, Jungwon was waiting for a handshake.

Aohi hesitated for a bit, looking anxiously at Jungwon's hand, but before she could even decide to shake his hand, Xiulin reached over and took his hand for her.

"It's nice to meet you, Aohi and I look forward to working with you, please take care of us." Xiulin spoke gently, bowing as she held Jungwon's hand. Aohi could only look in awe and admiration at Xiulin.

Xiulin reminded her so much of Jurin.

Aohi quickly snapped out of her awed gaze before turning towards Jungwon and shaking his hand as well, bowing politely, showing her respect to him.

In Jungwon's head, he kind of thought of Aohi as peculiar, Xiulin had a mature personality and was willing to take over for her members, shaking his hand for Aohi was already proof of that.

Aohi has not spoken a single word since they had seen her, only opting to follow after her unnie, sitting down alongside her.

"So, let's get the gist down for what will be Enhypen's schedule now that Xiulin and Aohi are here—" The manager sat middle of the members.

"Enhypen, was always planned to be a co-ed group. We wondered adding female contestants into I-land, but there was never a right time to introduce them." The manager seemed to open a folder of sorts, Aohi and Xiulin listening intently to her words.

"I'd like to think we were doing well on our own, as a boy-group.." Sunoo softly spoke, looking slightly apologetic to Aohi and Xiulin for his opinion.

To an extent, Aohi understood why Sunoo thought so and his hesitance to the addition of girls into the group.

Aohi knew that if she were on the other side of the meeting table, she would be confused, and even frustrated if XG made member additions, much less of the opposite gender when they were told it was strictly a girl group.

The teenage girl looked around the room, observing the other members of ENHYPEN.

As an idol, it would be embarrassing if she didn't know her future members and their names, so she made the courtesy of at least learning their names and faces.

Aohi's gaze landed on Jake, at least she hoped it was Jake? His features was somewhat displaying a perplexed look, spinning in his chair as he seemed deep in thought.

"Well, yes but— see, the co-ed plan was set before Enhypen was even formed as an idea." The manager replied to Sunoo, making the boy deflate as he leaned back to his seat.

It wasn't a secret that their stay in I-land or anything relating, was exactly fun. It was something the members were unsure to explain.

The boys struggled a lot with trying to debut, their journey was turned into a source of entertainment. It was called a survival show for a reason.

Heeseung seemed to struggle at wrapping his mind around the fact that these girls were just being added, firstly it felt unnecessary, and the girls would just not understand.

Jungwon was more frustrated at the fact that this means the girls would have to debut at a later album and it'll complicate what the group was already working on.

"Do they have to join our group? Wouldn't it be better to place them with a group that'll debut together?" Jake bluntly asked, Aohi couldn't lie and say she wasn't offended, because she was.

Aohi was taken aback by Jake's sudden question, so shocked in fact that she could just feel her jaw slacking before it even attempted to open physically.

"What Jake-hyung meant was that, the girls will struggle with our concept- as well as our fans might not receive them well and—" Sunghoon tried to save face for his hyung in front of the staff members and the girls.

Xiulin stared at Jake offended while Aohi only looked appalled.

"What can you do? I mean, these girls have nowhere else to go but be here." The manager's fingers pointed down at the table, emphasizing her seriousness with the taps to the table.

"Their companies have already terminated their contracts, their idol dreams end here if they don't debut with you boys."

The manager no longer felt lenient with the boys, at first, their manager wanted to be understanding, knowing it was an incredibly big change for both sides.

"We've already debuted a while ago, they'll struggle to keep up." Jay wanted to defend his brother, sitting up in his chair.

"If you think we can't handle it, I assure you Xiulin-unnie and I can keep up." Aohi replied, speaking for the first time after she entered the room. She frankly felt offended that this group, was so against them debuting with ENHYPEN.

"You don't know that." Jungwon retaliated, "You don't know us either." Xiulin countered.

"We both left our groups so we could debut with you, I went through that so I could be here," Aohi sighed, "I understand why you're upset, but I've sacrificed more than what I was willing to give to be an idol and I'm sure Xiulin-unnie had to as well."

Aohi had a determined look in her eyes, it was clear that the girl wasn't going to take no for an answer.

"So I'm going to debut, whether you guys like it or not."

"Fine. If you want to debut, don't expect us to help," heeseung replied after a few moments of silence. "Show us you're worth adding into our group."

"Heeseung! That's not—" Their manager scolded the eldest, Heeseung only glancing at her with a blank look, his gaze returning to Aohi.

Heeseung and Aohi was somewhat stuck in a staring contest, as if trying to test each other's patience.

Aohi could feel her jaw clench at this, just what was this group's problem?!

"We will, just see."

— ENHYPEN APARTMENTS, GIRLS DORMS, 11:18 am—

✧. ┊ AOHI just met her new bandmates, and they already dislike her. Well, the seven of them, at least. Xiulin seems to like her! She hopes…

Silence filled the new dorms as Xiulin and Aohi unpacked, both girls focused on returning a sense of familiarity in an unfamiliar space.

Aohi tried her best to replicate her old room, using trinkets given by Harvey and Jurin to give her comfort. Aohi sat down on her bed, it was too soft for her liking. She could feel her lips start to tremble when the situation sinked in.

Thankfully, Xiulin noticed before she could say anything.

"Looks good." Xiulin spoke from the other side of the room. Aohi sniffled, looking up as if wondering what she meant.

"Your part of the room. It looks nice." Xiulin repeated.

Aohi stared at her unnie for a second before returning her gaze to her hands, responding. "Thanks."

"Worried?" Xiulin continued, taking her response as a green light that Aohi was up to talking. Xiulin folded her clothes as she spoke, placing it on the side in a neat pile to store for later.

Aohi scoffs at her short question— as if it wasn't obvious. "Is it that obvious?"

"If this is about this morning, I'd rather either of us not worry about it."

Xiulin stood up from her spot, bringing her clothes into the dorm's closet, disappearing for a few minutes.

"Didn't you hear them though? We're on our own, and the first album we release with them will be a disaster." It was Xiulin's turn to scoff, Aohi looking back up at the sound of that. "Don't tell me you believe his bluff."

"How would you know it's bluff?" Xiulin sighs, she knew it like it was the most common thing in the world. "They can't leave us to fend for ourselves, how we perform affects them too."

"If you make a single mistake, or cause a rumour, it'll ruin all of us, not just you."

Aohi furrowed her eyebrows, looking down at her fingers. "Maybe, I'm not cut out for this—" Xiulin laughs, catching the younger girl off guard. "C'mon, don't let those boys scare you, we worked just as hard to get here."

"We got this, don't you worry."

BE:LIFT PRACTICE ROOM, THREE WEEKS LATER, 6:43 PM—

— Aohi loved dancing, sure, she wasn't a prodigy or anything, but her dance style was one to lure you into the performance.

Any concept and she's got you, hook, line and sinker.

For some reason though, Aohi felt like her ability was sucked out of her, the way she couldn't even keep up with the practice Ri-ki and Jake gave her and Xiulin.

"It's not that difficult! Switch your feet and you got it." Jake groans. Xiulin and Aohi have been bickering with Jake for the whole practice. The girls could only feel bad for the maknae, who stared at his hyung with an embarrassed look.

Honestly, it felt like Jake was only ever talking to prod at the two girls.

"We're not even used to the steps yet! Give us time!" Xiulin huffed out, glaring at Jake through the foggy mirror of the room.

"Seriously! We're trying, yelling at us won't magically make us do better!" Aohi followed after Xiulin's words. A small silence washed the room, Jake looking at the two girls with a tired and annoyed expression.

After a bit, Jake just turns away, he runs his hand in his hair, walking away. Ri-ki looked up at Jake, wondering what he was doing.

"They really are trying, hyung.." Ni-ki spoke softly enough for Jake to hear. The youngest was obviously trying to soothe the tension between the new members and his hyung.

"Well, obviously not hard enough." Jake replied, taking one last glance at the girls, who looked appalled at his words. Before either girls could retaliate, Jake leaves the practice room, slamming the door behind him.

Ri-ki could only hope that Jake would return after a breather.

"Gosh! The nerve of that guy!— Whatever, I'm going to steam off!" Xiulin grumbled, standing from her spot on the floor and walking off, slipping out of the dance room.

Only and Aohi and Ri-ki were left alone in the practice room, the tension being replaced with awkwardness. This was the first time Aohi was left alone with her male bandmates without staff.

Aohi only ever spoke to her members when it was necessary. Aohi has never freely chatted with any of the boys, not even the youngest.

Aohi positioned herself from the middle of the practice room, to the sides, sitting down to wait for Xiulin to return. She tried her best to keep her distance from Ri-ki, since she already assumed he wouldn't want to talk to her.

Ri-ki, unsure of what to do, sits beside her, a reasonable feet apart. It was quiet, the hum-buzz of the air conditioning was the only sound accompanying the two.

"I'm sorry about Jake-hyung." Ri-ki softly mumbled towards her, picking at the skin on his nails.

"Why're you apologizing? Unnie and I want to hear it from him." Aohi replied curtly.

Ri-ki sighed at this response. Ri-ki was a very understanding person, he knew why his hyung was so easily frustrated by anything. He also knew that frustration wasn't an excuse to take it out on Aohi or Xiulin.

"Jake-hyung's just upset, he's trying to adjust." Ri-ki felt like he needed to defend Jake first, despite feeling guilty about the way the boys and the girls bickered all of the time.

"And what makes you think we aren't as well?" Aohi poked. "We're already trying our best trying to follow his instructions,"

"It only makes us even more exhausted that he keeps prodding at the little thing we do wrong." Ri-ki listened, turning to Aohi, "And to think we left our groups for this.."

Ri-ki felt like a dim lightbulb went off of his head— ah, he remembers, their first meeting. Ri-ki would've thought that the girls were picked exclusively.

"Which group?" The younger boy softly spoke, trying to change the subject subtly, trying to keep the neutrality of the two people going.

"XG, my sisters. I left XG to be here, so I could debut with you guys." Aohi nodded along with her words, her fingers fiddling with each other in her lap.

"Did you grow up with them?" It was Aohi's turn to look at Ri-ki, the way he looked at her curiously made a ghost of a smile appear on her lips.

"Eung.." Aohi confirmed, "I didn't join XG until I was about sixteen, then I started to train with them." She shrugged, thinking about her earlier years. "I'm sorry you had to leave." Ri-ki expressed, making the girl shrug.

Aohi didn't really expect Ri-ki to apologize, especially when he was one of the only members who didn't argue with her and Xiulin at every chance.

"You don't have to apologize, at least you're nicer than your hyungs, hm?" Aohi mumbled, giving Ri-ki a lopsided smile before tilting her head back, hitting the wall with a thud.

Ri-ki followed suit, turning away and staring straight in front of him.

"Aohi-noona?" She hummed a response, expecting a question. "Yeah?"

"Where did you grow up, you know, with your group?" Ri-ki spoke back, scooting closer to his noona, feeling a bit more comfortable around her.

"Fukuoka, Japan."

"Ah— you're from Japan too?!" RI-ki's face turned from relaxed to shock, almost gaining whiplash at the way his face whipped to look at Aohi.

"I thought you knew, Ri-ki-san." Aohi used an honorific to tease the boy, who just smiled brightly. Ri-ki was happy that he could have someone to talk to, not just in korean.

"I didn't! Now, I really am glad." Ri-ki laughed, "What?— Why?" Aohi laughed back, finding Ri-ki's starstruck eyes pointed at her amusing.

"I just, miss it there. I mean, Jay-hyung speaks Japanese but, it barely lessens the loneliness.." Ri-ki replied, his wide smile morphing to that of melancholy, Aohi could obviously tell that the younger boy was reminiscing in his head.

"I get it." Aohi spoke in a soft tone, one that gave made Ri-ki feel a little less homesick. Aohi approached the boy, before hesitantly wrapping her hand around Ri-ki and gently patting his shoulder.

"I miss my hometown a lot as well, not just in Japan, but in the Philippines as well."

Aohi felt Ri-ki relax in her hold, allowing her to continue. "I had the girls in XG help me with that homesickness, but you—.." Aohi leaned into him, making him move slightly to the side.

Ri-ki just stared beside him, looking at Aohi with a soft look, wondering what the girl could possibly follow up with. "The point is, I don't think I'll be kicked off anytime soon.." Aohi sighed, removing her hand from off of his shoulders.

Ri-ki felt a little sad, slightly missing the warmth her hold had, but it was the less of his worries.

Aohi didn't really know what she was trying to say after that sentence, she wondered if it was better just shutting up.

"I'm saying, I'm here now, so if you feel homesick, at least we can be homesick together.." The girl gently punched at Ri-ki's shoulder, trying to cheer the boy up.

Ri-ki just stared at Aohi in awe, they've only seriously talked, like one other time, and it wasn't even as personal as this, who was this noona to just declare that for him?

He was astonished at the way Aohi just seems to wear her heart on her sleeve.

"You mean that?" Ri-ki hesitantly asked, "Look, we might not know each other much, but I'm serious, especially about that." Aohi replied, in reality, it just really slipped her lips, but she also knew it came from her heart.

Aohi was weak to those who's got similar experiences, and she was always one to mediate and make people feel better.

Ri-ki looked back down at his lap, a shy smile on his lips at the thought of Aohi staying true to her words, someone to talk to when you feel homesick? It gave a Ri-ki a small warmth in his chest, spreading happily throughout his body.

"Hey.." Aohi caught Ri-ki's attention, making him look up. The girl gently offered her closed fist, a truce of some sorts, a fist bump.

Ri-ki happily took the offer, raising his own fist and bump it against hers, their rings clanking against each other, a dull 'clink!' being heard.

"You're not so bad." Aohi amusingly spoke, a soft smile on her face. "And you're really pretty, noona." Ri-ki replied, mirroring Aohi's smile with his own lips.

It was the way Aohi almost choked on her own spit had she not caught herself. "Yah! Ri-ki-san!" Aohi jokingly scoffed, slapping his shoulder, a form of expressing amusement.

"What was that for?"

"I thought I should just let you know, it was a compliment!" Ri-ki giggled, his smile turning from mirroring Aohi's to one of mischief.

"You don't just tell girls they're pretty, Ki-ah." Aohi smoothly used a nickname she made for the younger boy at the spot, making Ri-ki buzz at the new nickname.

"They'll think you're in love with them and then they'll fall in love with you!" Aohi jokingly scolded the younger boy, Ri-ki's cheeks flushing as he realized.

Aohi's cheeks weren't any different though, despite being a rising idol, she still wasn't used to the compliments anyone gave her.

"Well, are you?" Ri-ki asked, his mischevious grin turning to that of a soft happy one. Ri-ki felt relieved to smile like that for a bit, epseically with his hyungs being down in the dumps with the girls.

Aohi snorted, unsure of his seriousness deep inside and deciding to laugh it off.

Suddenly, the easy atmosphere of the practice room was sucked out, when Jake returned, a weird look on his face. Aohi and Ri-ki instantly jumped away from each other, just now noticing their close proximity.

"Manager wants us up." Jake spoke slowly, still suspicious of the two and what he had possibly walked in on.

"Well, that's us," Aohi replied, standing up and dusting off the imaginary dust on her pants.

"C'mon, Ki-ah."

"Ki-ah?" Jake mumbled, his eyebrows furrowed as he stared at Ri-ki and Aohi, just what happened while he was gone that the two were all buddy-buddy?

Ri-ki just nods, standing up as well, using the wall as a support. Aohi looked on with a slight smile on her face, she was satisfied that she didn't have to fight with one of the boys today. (except Jake, of course.)

It meant, to her, that she was making progress, and she was happy with that.

Aohi hopes that Ri-ki's friendliness wouldn't last just for that day, because she intends to keep her promise to Ri-ki, and it can't happen if they're going back to being awkward.

She walks towards the door, bag in hand as Ri-ki tailed after he like a puppy. Ri-ki and Aohi left that room giggling with each other like the teens they were.

Jake just looked at the pair, tilting his head like a confused dog.

For once, Aohi thinks, that maybe, just maybe, the boys could learn to accept her.

[bellaxgiornata]

Honestly I cannot believe that I've been on tumblr for just over a year now and somehow there's already so many of you wonderful people here that are reading, enjoying, and supporting my silly little fics. When I jumped over here from AO3, I had not anticipated how much fun I was going to have getting to chat with all of y'all while also sharing my stories with those of you who aren't on AO3. I've definitely made some wonderful friends this past year because of tumblr and I just want to say thank you to everyone for the support. I always mean it when I say y'all are the reason I keep writing these stories 💖

I could certainly get sappier but instead I'll just invite y'all to join me for my first ever celebration! There's a few fun things below the cut that y'all can pop up with in my ask box starting today May 3 through Wednesday May 8! I tried to think of some interesting things that I could realistically make time to do with everything currently going on in my life, especially because I'm also still trying to stockpile rough drafts for many of my stories so that I can still have updates during my upcoming "writing hiatus" (that I'll explain more about later). My plan is to answer things as they come in and hopefully have them all finished shortly after the celebration ends. And once the celebration finally ends, I'm hoping to give y'all an update to a story or a one shot!

Hopefully this will be fun for everyone!

Let's Chat! - Feel free to send me an ask about anything at all! No, seriously. You want to tell me about your day? An upcoming vacation or exciting accomplishment of yours? Do it! Or maybe you want to ask me questions about one of my stories or my writing process? Hell, feel free to ask me about myself, chat about coffee, music, books, pets, whatever!

Discuss Headcanons with Me! - Have any headcanons about Matt Murdock, Frank Castle, or Michael Kinsella that you want to chat about or share with me? Send them in! Or are you interested in a headcanon I might have about one of them in a certain situation? Feel free to ask! We can chat about the boys!

Send Me Fake FFTD Installment Titles! - Create a title name for an installment for my Falling for the Devil series (ex. "The [insert title]") and I'll write a couple of sentences about what I could picture that installment being about! You win bonus points if you can actually stump me on coming up with a plot for your title. But also who knows, maybe some title suggestions could spark an idea for future updates...

Let's Play a Game! - We can play would you rather, have you ever, or fuck/marry/kiss (or kill). For the record, f/m/k can be with anyone from Daredevil, Punisher, Defenders, Kin, or even any of Charlie's characters that I'm familiar with (Matt, Michael, Owen, Henry, Tristan, or Adam) or those of Jon's that I'm familiar with (mainly Frank, Shane, or Julian). If you can think of another game feel free to play it with me!

Ask the Boys! - Do you enjoy my weird internal dialogues with fictional characters that probably make me sound crazy? Great! Feel free to send me an ask to either one or all of the fictional men that live in my head (Matt, Frank, and/or Mikey) and I'll relay whatever they respond with in something of a short internal dialogue!

Request a Sneak Peak! - Since I have been stockpiling quite a few WIPs and rough drafts for a couple of months now, I am open to y'all just requesting a sneak peak. If you do, I will share a snippet from a fic I choose at random from something that's either a fully finished rough draft or still a work in progress!

**You're more than welcome to participate multiple times, but all I ask is that you (1) send things in separate asks, (2) are not rude to me or anyone else, and (3) are 18+ to discuss anything spicy (this is an 18+ blog anyway so I'd hope everyone here already is).**

[akookminsupporter]

Namjoon gave an interview to El Pais in Spain and I wanted to share the translation of the interview for those who may not understand Spanish.

Question. The track opens with the lines: "Fuck the trendsetter / I'm going back to the age of 9 / when I was more human". Does the stratospheric success of K-pop dehumanise the artist? Answer. You start your career very early and as part of a group. There's not a lot of time to be an individual, but that's what makes K-pop shine: very young people, trying very hard at the same time…. You generate energy that you only have in your twenties. You fight day and night to perfect the choreography, the videos, the music, and there's an explosion, a big bang. From 20 to 30, we put all the energy and time we had into BTS. You get success, love, influence, power, and after that? The root of it all remains: the music… What was the question?

Q. Does the system dehumanise? A. My company doesn't like the way I answer this question, because I partly admit it and then the journalists throw their hands on their heads, "it's a horrible system, it destroys the young people! But it's partly what makes this such a special industry. And things have improved a lot, in terms of contracts, money, education, there are now teachers, psychologists...

Q. Korean record companies train their artists for years, you lived with your peers from 16 to 19 before your debut as BTS in 2013. What did your parents say? A. My mother spent two years, "Go back to school, you were so good at it, go your way, go to university, make music a hobby!"…. But there was no going back.

Q. The biggest lesson from your time as an apprentice? A. Dancing. I was incapable.

Q. And what did you miss out on by being one? A. College life.

Q. The cult of youth, the cult of perfection, the cult of K-pop overexertion? Are these Korean cultural traits? A. In the West, people just don't get it. Korea is a country that has been invaded, razed to the ground, torn in two. Just seventy years ago there was nothing. We were getting aid from the IMF and the UN. But now, the whole world is looking at Korea. How is that possible, how did that happen? Because people are working fucking hard to improve themselves. You're in France or the UK, countries that have been colonising other countries for centuries, and you come to me and say "oh God, you put so much pressure on yourselves, life in Korea is so stressful". well, yes. That's how you get things done. And it's part of what makes K-pop so appealing. Of course, there are shadows, everything that happens too fast and too intensely has side effects.

Q. What is the biggest prejudice about K-pop? A. That it's prefabricated.

Q. What would your career have been like if you had developed it on the alternative circuit or in another country? A. I think about the multiverse a lot, and the lesson of Doctor Strange is always the same: your version of the universe is the best possible one, don't think of others. There is nothing better than being a member of BTS.

Q. Did you imagine this version? A. Not at all. My dream was not to be a K-pop idol. I wanted to be a rapper, and before that, a poet.

Q. Your influences include rappers like Nas and Eminem, groups like Radiohead and Portishead, but you never mention boy bands. A. The Beatles were also called boy band... I'm not comparing us, they were the creators of everything. But I guess you mean NSYNC or New Kids on the Block: bands whose pop music I actually liked, although I wasn't a super fan… What got me was rap: rhythm plus poetry.

Q. You say you get jealous of who you admire, for example? A. Kendrick Lamar, always. And Pharrell Williams. He's living history, I'd like to be one too, maybe in the future. That's why I don't paint, to be jealous of Picasso or Monet would be too much.

Q. You do collect, how do you choose the pieces? A. I've only been collecting for four years and I've been changing. My focus is 20th-century Korean art. But I'm not Getty or Rockefeller…

Q. You don't do it to invest. A. I guarantee it. If I wanted to invest, I would buy black artists, women artists, emerging Indonesian artists… My goal is to open a small exhibition space in about 10 years because I think Seoul needs a place with a young taste, but respectful of the Korean legacy, to which I would also like to bring artists like Roni Horn, Antony Gormley or Morandi.

Q. Have you always had the collector's bug? A. I've collected toys, little cars or Takashi Murakami figures, then vintage clothes, then furniture, I love Charlotte Perriand and Pierre Jeanneret [both collaborators with Le Corbusier], but my favourite is George Nakashima.

Q. On your album there are songs from very different genres, some critics say it's inconsistency, others say versatility… A. I think the word genre will disappear in a few decades. R&B, Hyperpop, Jersey Club, UK Drill, Chicago Drill, K-pop! They don't mean anything. Music is an accumulation of frequencies that makes people get into a certain mood.

Q. Are you fed up with the "K-" label? A. You could get sick of Spotify calling us all K-pop, but it works. It's a premium label. The guarantee of quality that our grandparents fought for.

Q. Your album features Anderson Paak, Youjeen and the elusive Erykah Badu, how did he convince you? A. She knew BTS because her daughter is a fan, but that's not enough. I had to persuade her, I sent her a text with Yun's story explaining why I needed her wise queen voice for those verses.

Q. You mix English and Korean sometimes in the middle of a line, how do you decide? A. Words in different languages have different textures; the same message, with a different brushstroke. It comes naturally to me. I don't play instruments, I compose and create melodies with my voice, which is my instrument and most of my songs start with words.

Q. You have also gone through several identities, as a teenage rapper you were Runch Randa, then in BTS Rap Monster and then RM (for Real Me). Have you thought about using your real name? A. [laughs] We all have a past, a dark history, we say in Korea. Runch Randa was my nickname in a role-playing game, then I wanted to be, you know, "a rap monster!″, then I matured… I prefer my name to be known by as few people as possible, I'm not John Lennon, Paul McCartney, I can check into a hotel quietly and I like that.

Q. You've also changed a lot in the way you dress. A. I went through XXL T-shirts and baseball caps. Then I got into high-end brands… Like Rap Monster, I started wearing only black and white [rolls his eyes and shrugs]. Now I'm interested in timelessness, I don't go for trends, I look for vintage jeans, cotton t-shirts, natural things, that don't scream "hey, I'm here".

Q. Rumour has it that you are going to collaborate with Bottega Veneta, whose fashion show you have just been invited to in Milan. A. I would love to. Although I've lost interest in brands, in fashion weeks and that constant change of Pantone… Bottega is different, they don't use logos, they have a history with fabrics and leather, they don't even have Instagram, they are beyond fads and fashions.

Q. How heavy is it to have an army of fans? A. You can't walk around in the middle of nowhere without being recognised and the standards to which you are subject weigh heavily. But you have to grow up and deal with it, not be pitiful like "oh, I just want to be normal". Look, if you want to think fame is a rock, it's a fucking rock, but for me, it's given me what I was looking for: to get influence and financial freedom as quickly as possible to make the music I want to make without worrying about the charts… I'm not there 100%, but I try to focus on the noise inside, not the noise outside.

Q. And how are you facing your thirties? A. I've never experienced such a confusing time. For a decade I was the leader of BTS, and it was very stable and fun, always going up. In 2023 a lot of things have changed, professionally and personally, although I can't tell. As I'm about to turn 30, I like myself more than I did when I was 20. Now I will spend a year and a half in military service, which is very important in every Korean man's life. And after that, I am sure I will be a different human being, hopefully, a better and wiser one.