#in a world with so much misfortune- Creating and sharing is the best we can do to escape these issues
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@purlty23 tagged me in This game and I'm super excited about it! (I tried to reblog the original post and just tack on but tumblr hates me)
Thanks Blue, this was so fun!
I'm tagging: @amara-among-the-stars, @mac-and-thefox, @littlemoon-beam, @divine-misfortune and whoever else also wants to expose their sins to the internet. Under the cut, because LONG.
Xena Warrior Princess - Passive Enjoyer Only passive because I was too young to be anything else. Barely counts, except that this show was my first real obsession so I have to include it. I dressed up as Xena for halloween when I was like…5. The pictures are incredible.
Good Charlotte - Mostly passive As is a trend with a lot of these, I wrote a little fan fic, and daydreamed a thousand scenarios, but never shared any of it. I was mildy obsessed with Benji Martin, but I didn't really get involved beyond that.
LOTR - Creative Enjoyer The first fan-fic I ever posted on the internet (I was twelve, people were mean). I didn't make any friends within the fandom. But I was so determined to write for it that I had an entire novel planned out--that eventually became an original book idea instead.
Harry Potter- Mostly Passive I read a lot of HP fanfic, but not as much as others. I didn't get involved in online conversations. I did dabble in writing some fics that I hid from the world and never finished.
The Boston Red Sox - Creative Enjoyer Ok. Now you know why I said I was exposing myself. Look I was like 12-14. My best friend and I filled entire notebooks with our MANY chaptered fic that spanned the entire 2004 Red Sox Season, that we started the day they won the world series that year. We hand wrote it all, I transcribed it into my computer where it still exists somewhere. It was our EVERYTHING. And it has never (and will never) see the light of day. I may have posted some Red Sox fic on the internet in my Live Journal days, and I made a bunch of online friends within that community, but they never saw THE fic.
Rammstein - Creative Enjoyer Again, my best friend and I had a notebook with a long form rammstein fic in. We didn't go as far with this one. And I didn't get involved in any online communities. Though, our love for Rammstein lived a lot longer than our fic writing did.
Twilight - Creative Enjoyer In that I wrote and posted a single fic about Alice.
Lost - Passive Enjoyer. I read a billion Skate fics. Probably thought about writing my own, but I don't think I ever actually did. Was obsessed with this show until the last season. I still have never seen the last episode.
Vampire Academy (THE BOOKS) - Passive Enjoyer. Not a lot online. Read some fic. Was so obsessed with this book that I started to write a fanfic where we got to see some of the story from Dimitri's persepective and accidentally created and entire new plot and new characters and accidentally created my own CHILD of an original novel because of it.
Grishaverse (Shadow and Bone/Six of Crows/Rule of Wolves) - Passive Enjoyer Loved these books. Loved every single character. Read as much fanfic as I could find. Accidentally spoiled a death in one of the books with fanfiction.
Avenged Sevenfold - Creative Enjoyer Short lived. Read some INCREDIBLE fics on the basically defunct site Mibba and thought "I can do that" and was fighting for my life in college. Wrote a few chapters of a fic. Got decent feedback. Got bored immediately.
Supernatural - passive enjoyer Read some fic. Took me like 15 tries to actually get through the whole show. Adored it, never went very far with it.
Marvel (Specifically The Winter Soldier) - Passive Enjoyer. I should have been a creative enjoyer, but was too afraid to write anything or put myself out there. (I spent all of my time after high school/college thinking that fanfic was a waste of time and I should never write it because I needed to be serious. What a waste). Still mildly obsessed with BuckyNat. I adore Bucky and Black Widow. If they put out another good movie I could see myself falling down that rabbit hole and actually letting myself land. The trailer for The Winter Soldier changed my brain chemistry (nevermind the whole move).
Fallout 4 - Passive Enjoyer I could read Sole Survivor/Paladin Danse fics every day forever. I know that's insane. Stop looking at me like that.
Ghost - Creative Enjoyer. Finally allowed myself to write whatever the fuck I want and have fun with it and it has changed my entire fucking life. Wish I'd done it sooner. So glad I got to do it now and with all of you. ♥
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Darling Alice, i wish showering you in praise for the length of like a full month or two was enough to convey how i truly feel about your writing, but it isn't. And sadly, i don't possess the right tools to adequately explain how speechless your style and technique in writing and storytelling make me. So all i can do is say thank you for yet another brilliant part in this installment of yours. I think i read somewhere that you were planning on turning The Lawyer and The Princess into a book and i hope you do, with all my heart, it's just so brilliant!
I loved the two separate story lines we got in the latest chapter. I'm not an expert in the least in farm lingo and still i enjoyed what i could picture from Lloyd's scene at the farm. I loved everything about him getting back to his home town and i love that his high school sweetheart is the only girl he's ever dated since and up until he met Princess. i loved their talk to an unbelievable amount, like i could cry right now from how good it was. I loved the backstory with his mom and sisters and the depth you keep adding to his character and the origin story to the villain he ended up being. No one likes to sympathizes with the devil, but this monster in him wasn't always there and it isn't something innate to his character but rather something created because and due to his misfortunes and i hope therapy helped him figure that out, even if for a bit.
I love how they're both each other's comforting thought. For Lloyd, the thought of Princess is something that calms him when enraged and for her, he lets her embrace her own rage and acknowledge the need for it to be there and act on it sometimes. They truly complete each other.
And i've spoken too much for someone who is supposedly speechless lol i just admire you and your work so damn much and i hope one day to see you on the top best selling books lists world wide <333 but for now, i can't wait for the next part and what denouement it will hold ;)
Thank you so much for your kind words about my writing, and the latest chapter of TPATL. I'm thrilled that you enjoyed the separate storylines and the scenes at the ranch, and that you found Lloyd's backstory and character development compelling.
It means a lot to me that you took the time to share your thoughts and feelings about the story, and that you appreciate the depth and complexity of the characters and their relationship. Your comments about Lloyd's struggle with his inner demons and the ways he and Princess complement each other were especially insightful and touching. I’m glad you take the time to appreciate the subtle differences and connections that I try to layer into the characters.
No joke, one of your comments made me go back and look at the chapter again, going: did I do that? Yep, I did. Wow.
Either my muse was working overtime or I’m crafting connections on gut instinct. At a certain point, writing is like having a good golf swing - you don’t think about every aspect in the moment, because you’ve played enough golf to know how it’s supposed to feel. So, thank you for pointing that piece out, because it was the first time I’d noticed it.
I'm very touched by your encouragement and support for a book version of "The Lawyer and The Princess," because my past experiences with publishing have been… unpleasant. I’m hopeful that if I self-publish it will be a better experience. At the same time, I know how much I hate marketing. Your message has inspired me to keep working on the story and hopefully publishing it someday.
Once again, thank you from the bottom of my heart for your beautiful message. It truly made my day and reminded me of why I love writing and sharing stories with readers like you. 💕
Yours,
Alice
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Why Immediate Edge Programming?
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Blog #1 Technopreneurial Inception: Unraveling the pros of cyber-strategic undertaking
Establishing a well-structured business is, by all means, not an easy feat. Among all of the startup companies that were initiated as per the last several years, only a handful had made it to the top ranks. Bigshot companies such as: Apple, Microsoft, Alphabet, and a few others have all showcased their reign as they dominate the world of commerce in the past recent years. And among these colossal companies, which also began as mere startups, all have and share several common points in achieving financial and marketing success in various fields.
So how did these multimillion companies amass such great amounts of power and influence over multiple target markets?
As the modern world, the age of information as one would say, keeps on developing and launching itself further through the digital era, the spontaneous evolution of technology would not only influence just the way we live, it would also affect the world of entrepeneurship by a massive margin. Thus, paving the way for a whole new form of marketing, one that would launch the world further into technological development: The field of Technopreneurship.
To delve further into the concepts of technopreneurship here are a few insights that may help you in applying a techno-centric approach in the establishment of your dream business:
Technopreneurship, in general, focuses more on the scalable and more economically impactful side of entrepeneurship. It involves revisioning your business in a much bigger scale when compared to managing small and mainstream businesses.
Talking about the establishment side, the process typically begins with the generation of a new and feasible idea. It involves several key points to consider such as: Identifying the point of pain, innovating a product of service, testing your business model, and finally, exploring how to acquire customers from your target market. In percieving a company or business, please keep in mind to observe the three irritants, "MAD", which stands for Missing, Annoying, and Disappointing points in services or products. As entrepeneurs, it is best to keep in mind that things are never bound to go smoothy in any of our business journeys as failure and misfortunes are always part of the process. If ever you already have a great idea in mind I highly advise you start by creating a layout. As entrepeneurs of the modern era, we are urged to think outside the norms of traditional marketing to venture into new ways of doing old styles as we push current livelihood into something more developed. Creating something like a Business Model Canvas can greatly assist in the planning and outlining process of that new business idea as it evaluates and simulates the general flow of how your business is going to operate.
To wrap it all up, mastering the concepts and techniques that relates to technopreneurship can generally prove to be a powerful asset in the business you aspire to build.
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I want to give you a lil’ sneak peek from Carrot Juice.
This is the panel that made me realize, “oh…people might think they’re gay…cool”. Honestly, just the idea of people headcannon-ing my work just makes me feel all giddy inside. Yeah, you can choose to think of them as gay if you wanna.
these are the main characters of the comic btw
Rakdhkfakrqhkdgrhkrrhkrhk- I used to be excited about how people would perceive my characters, being their sexuality or just other types of headcannons (like- What type of Smash Bros main is this character? XD )
Also don't worry, I get what you mean- You're just excited and I can't blame you.
I used to be very excited until I, well, started having some negative thoughts about stuff like this, is nothing you need to worry about really, it was just issues inside my head- I used to think I needed to limit myself to only one thing because if I tried branching out I would end up losing myself in endless pit of work and unfinished projects, but recently I realized that: I have all the time in the world.
I have all the time in the world, and I shouldn't be afraid of doing what I like, of doing something that brings me joy and I shouldn't limit myself even if I think I have no time. You also have all the time in the world, you can also do everything you can think off and you should never think that "I need to do all of these things now because later I won't be able too".
Of course we all have or responsibilities, and we should all learn to prioritize or time- But never let yourself feel like you can't keep creating because of that. Find yourself enough time to follow your aspirations and to also complete tasks that you find mandatory (Ya know, school, work, stuff that you need to be responsible for)
Sorry about the long tangent- I really like your art style, and I think your characters look really fun- I would love to hear their names, but you don't need to tell me right now really-
#Carrot Juice#ya know what?#you really help me want to continue to draw- I should really finish my first chapter of my comics#I used to think that I should prioritize on having an world breaking story- Or having to reinvent art with my comics-#but no one needs to do that really#you want to draw? you want to create comics?? Then go for it!#create what makes you happy- Don't think you need to create something to prove to others you're an artist-#- Just create#in a world with so much misfortune- Creating and sharing is the best we can do to escape these issues#sorry I'm just- Can't English-
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here comes the bride, all dressed in pride
summary; You and your cousin Doyeon have had beef with each other since the sandbox. When she plucks the last straw, you decide to end your long-simmering fight by claiming that you and her ex—Jeon Jungkook, are now boyfriend and girlfriend pairing; jungkook x reader (f) genre/warnings; fake dating!au, fluff, crack, mentions of cheating, lang, alcohol, mc eats meat, tw sexual harassment, toxic family, dick talk, making out, if u have that one family member that pulls bs on you constantly this is it, this fic is for all the people who have a huge ass family who wont leave them alone w.c; 17.3k a/n: my second fic for gcn’s 23 birthday project! the fact that wedding szn zoomed by us like that... and so bc im sad that so many weddings had to be postponed this fic was born! a huge thank u to vivi @eerieedits / @chillingtae for creating this BEAUTIFUL fic banner and separator pls check vivi out to make your fics all purty
prompts used: “You’ve always been beautiful to me, don’t you know that?” and “I never knew love could be like this, feel like this.”
if you enjoyed this pls consider giving a like and a share💕💕
Doyeon likes to call Jungkook, “the one who got away.”
You like to call Doyeon, “the one who drove him away.”
In secret, of course. In fact, the only person who knows how much you loathe Doyeon and her behavior is your father. And all your co-workers. And your boss. And your boss’ ex-husband.
And Jeon Jungkook, but of course you haven’t seen the man in two years and back then he was far too polite to address his concerns of your hatred of his then-girlfriend.
Okay, so everyone and their mother knows how much you don’t like your cousin. Kim Doyeon and you have had beef since the sandbox, and for whatever reason is always out to one-up you. A strange competitive nature in everything, academics, family, and even boys. The sick, twisted part of you has come to enjoy it. While you’re not a fighter as devout as Doyeon is, you have your own callous tendencies farmed from the seeds Doyeon has planted in your brain. She gives you a comment? You can’t help but throw one back. Since you’re a painfully mature soul you don’t have any mortal enemies as far as you know, Doyeon is the perfect amount of hot water to keep you on your toes.
“I’m really sorry that you couldn’t be a bridesmaid,” Doyeon cooes next to you, swirling her champagne glass with a too-jutted pout, “but if I did there’d be an odd number of pairings and you’re a little too old to be walking as a bridesmaid, am I right?”
Your nails. Are digging. Through your dress. Alas, you’re in public and you have class. Doyeon smiles at you with all teeth, reminding you of the Beldam from Coraline. Aside from that she looks absolutely stunning in that Lirika Matoshi strawberry dress that has her Instagram aching with likes and love from her baseless followers.
“I don’t know,” you reply lightly, leaning back in your seat, “I mean, if Yoojung and Rena can be bridesmaids and they’re three years older than me, wouldn’t I make the cut? It’s okay to be honest and say you just didn’t want me in the bridal party.”
Doyeon laughs, slaps your thigh like you told her the most hilarious joke in the world. Anyone passing by would think you’re best friends. You laugh too, incredulous at the amount of power she thinks she holds.
“Nice party,” you tack on, surveying the room. It’s filled with pastels and beiges, bright and airy. It’s Parisian themed, and while you’re not a fan of theming cultures, you can’t deny that you’re loving the infinite supply of macarons.
“Oh, yes. This is just a taste of the real wedding,” she laces her fingers together, as if she thinks she’s living an Elizibethean love story, “speaking of, you put on your RSVP that you’re bringing a plus one. Am I allowed to know who’s the unlucky date?”
“As if you care.”
“I care if you’re bringing Jimin. That tiny thing nearly gave Aunt Lillian a heart attack when he gave a striptease at Yoongi’s graduation party.”
You smirk softly at the bold memory. That was the plan.
Doyeon sighs dramatically, crossing her legs and popping out a cherry red heel. She plays with the back on the balls of her feet, letting the little pearly rhinestones glisten in the candlelight, “I should really commend you, cousin,” she drawls, “I mean, how kind of you to be so charitable and give your dopey friends a chance to have fun. After all, I’m sure it is difficult for someone like you to find a date.”
It’s no surprise as to how you end up with a date at any family formal gathering. You say you bring a plus one, and then between Jimin, Taehyung and Hoseok. The three of them draw straws as to who gets to gorge on free alcohol and food for that night.
“Difficult?” you arch a brow, “I get plenty of dates.”
Doyeon giggles. She must be feeling extra vindictive today, high on her impending marriage and the taste of bubbly champagne. “By taking turns with those three? You gotta be kidding me,” she snorts, tipping back her crystal, “please y/n. Don’t get so defensive because I’m getting married first. Your time will come. That is, if you stop dicking around with your friends.”
Normally you’d smother any attempt at Doyeon to call out your friends, but now she’s just done that and insulted your ability to get some, and you are livid.
“Actually,” you quip sharply, “I’ve been dating someone. It’s been a couple months, actually.”
“Oh?” Doyeon’s genuinely interested, face falling slightly, “you’ve never mentioned anyone, I don’t see anyone on your social media.”
“Yeah well,” you feign sympathy, pressing your lips together and tilting your head accordingly, “I’ve had to keep it private for a couple of reasons.”
“What, is he ugly or something?” she chuckles, “but really, who’s the person who has the misfortune of being in a committed relationship with you?”
Maybe it’s because Doyeon’s right, the both of you are too old. The two of you have been running around each other for years, with no end in sight. Maybe, the words that linger on the tip of your tongue will be the final nail in the coffin.
“Jeon Jungkook,” you state proudly, clear as day. “Jungkook and I have been dating for three months.”
And you pick up the vanilla macaron that sits innocently on your plate, ravishing it up like it contained all the tension in your table. Between you and Doyeon’s bubble, you could hear a pin drop.
“Jungkook?” her smile is concrete-solid, “my Jungkook?”
“My Jungkook,” you correct, giving her a puppy-eyed look, “I’m really sorry I never told you. I mean, is there ever a right time to tell your cousin they’re dating their ex-boyfriend?” you laugh, either to lighten the mood or because you love the way Doyeon pinches her face, you don’t know.
“How did you two even meet?”
“We reconnected through Seokjin. You know how the two of them play Starcraft together, I just ended up joining the call and he was so funny and nice. We just sorta… felt it.” Doyeon nods like a slow bobblehead, still comprehending in her pea-sized brain, “I just hope it isn’t too awkward. I know it’s been awhile but, if you really don’t want Jungkook to come I can always take Hoseok or something.”
“No, it’s fine,” Doyeon says a little too quickly, masking on her picture-perfect smile. “I’m with Namjoon now, and I’m totally happy. Water under the bridge, it’ll be totally fine.”
“Really?” your eyes practically sparkle, thankful for the amount of glitter and highlighter you’ve dumped on your face today, “I really appreciate it, Yeonie.”
And she quickly downs her champagne glass, and gets up from her seat. It’s haunting, the way she gets up, pink tulle billowing around her ankles. “I have to attend to the other guests,” she says.
“Of course,” you raise your glass.
“But, be careful,” she gives you a little smile, one filled with a last-ditch attempt at a jab, “Jungkook, he’s a little hard to deal with.”
“Oh don’t worry. I know how to deal with Jungkook’s hardness,” you wink, and Doyeon’s face falls like a ton of bricks.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know,” you shrug loftily, “that’s what I meant, though.”
And you don’t bother watching Doyeon stomp off the metaphorical stage, double fisting two new glasses of champagne from an awaiting butler as she finds some other poor guest to pick on. Now, the matter of securing your date. Conveniently so, the most important man in the room is walking your way, and you manage to snag his tie just as he passes your table.
“Ow—ow! I’m choking!” Seokjin grabs, nearly throwing his tall body onto your lap, hands grappling to release the tension on his neck. “Leave me alone, woman! I just wanted to get some chicken tenders!”
“Jin,” you say sweetly, opening his blazer to retrieve his phone, “I need Jeon’s number, now.”
“Jungkook?” your favorite cousin pales, eyes widening as you take out your phone of your own, copying down the digits, “what did you do?”
“Don’t ask questions.”
Seokjin says your name again, firmer. “You’re playing with fire.”
“It’ll be fine, it’s the last time,” you quell, already knowing how much Seokjin hates being in the middle of your fights. Once you’ve secured the phone number, you place Seokjin’s phone back into his pocket, patting his breast. “Thank you. You know you’re my favorite cousin, you know that?”
He grumbles a “damn right I am” before stomping away, resuming his race for his chicken tenders.
You: hey jeon it’s y/n. I see you’re doing great, i saw on instagram that you released your first app w/yoongi! Totally amazing, been playing for weeks, really upset that i can’t get past the flaming frog boss :((
You: Feel free to ignore this, i won’t blame you if you do. Im at doyeon’s rehearsal dinner, and she basically snubbed my friends and said i couldn’t get some prime dick even though im?? Me??? Anyway, im tired of her shit so im gonna throw it back at her, one last time before she ties the knot. I told her you and i have been dating, and im bringing you as my date to her wedding. Really sorry, the demons took over my brain and made the worst and best comeback of my life. So… if you’re up for being the hottest couple on the floor in three weeks and showing how madly in love we are, please text me back? Or not. You might think this family is crazy and i accept partial responsibility.
You: I’ll buy u every meal for every practice date we have if u agree.💕💕💕
Jeon Jung-boo-thang: thanks, i appreciate that. To defeat the frog boss, go back to the coconut cave and find the garnet garter. It absorbs his fire and u can easily defeat froggo w any level 15 weapon
Jeon Jung-boo-thang: and as for the real reason u texted me. Im in. let’s get pork belly tomorrow.
Two years ago, you were surprised that Doyeon could manage to snag a man as fine as Jeon Jungkook. Also unsurprised, because Doyeon is gorgeous and could snag any man she wanted, and has snagged every man she wanted.
Jungkook was different though. He had an air of innocence to him. He loved her, a little too much to be safe. Your heart would betray you every time you would find him at a family gathering, making her plate and counting the calories she so meticulously measured. How can someone so sweet be with someone like Doyeon?
Your heart ached for Jungkook when they broke up a year later. From what you heard, Doyeon was Jungkook’s first serious girlfriend. And then you wanted to rip your heart out a week later when you caught Doyeon smooching with her favorite graduate professor Kim Namjoon, wanting to erase any possibility you’d have at love. At that time, you never wanted to feel the pain you imagined Jungkook was going through.
“Y/n! Over here!” you’re a little taken aback at how much has not changed in Jungkook. His eyes still sparkle like fresh dew, his smile is still pearly white and infectious. He’s even early, snagging a table at his favorite barbeque place and waiting for you as if he is the one organizing your first date.
At the same time, there’s so much that’s changed about him. He’s confident, even going so far as to walk over to you and slip your jacket and purse in his grasp like a gentleman. He leads you by putting a hand lightly at the small of your back, making you feel impossibly small in comparison to his Dorito-shaped body, broad shoulders and a deliciously trim waist.
“How was the walk over?”
“Not too bad,” the conversation is casual, easy. You wipe the sweat off your forehead with a napkin. “Could use a little exercise now and again. I did eat a whole tray of macarons at that rehearsal dinner.”
Jungkook laughs from his belly, causing you to smile. “Nonsense. You look great, by the way,” you don’t mind it, actually, you enjoy it when his eyes rake over your body. After all, he’s now your boyfriend and he needs to get familiar with all the important bits. He leans his arms forward, bracing him against the wooden table so his face is closer to yours.
“You’re not doing too bad yourself,” your eyes gloss over the veins and intricate tattoos that paint his muscled upper half. Your smile morphs into a smirk, letting him know you’re enjoying the view just as well as he is.
And as soon as the tension sparks, it ends just as fast when your waiter comes up to light your grill.
“So,” Jungkook wastes no time in decorating your stove, making sure to add all the appropriate aromatics and infusions to season your lunch, “do you know why Doyeon and I broke up?”
“Cheated on you with Namjoon, I assume,” you keep your eyes trained on the darkening meat.
Jungkook slips a piece of meat in his mouth. Any expression of pain (whether it be from Doyeon or the barely cooked meat) doesn’t reveal itself as he stops to take a sip of water. “Who else knows?”
“Just me and Seokjin. The family loved you too much and Doyeon made up some sob story about how you two were going different life paths.”
He chuckles to himself, taking great care in flipping the meat. “I really was a fool in love, wasn’t I?”
“It… was mildly cute.”
“Tell me the truth, you have no reason not to.”
“Okay, you made me want to vomit rainbows and glitter every time I saw you.”
The two of you laugh, faces crinkling shamelessly as the two of you busy yourselves with setting up the table. Most of the food is done and the aroma of fresh onions wafts around your grill. As you place chopsticks on his side of the table, you think about all the times Jungkook made it abundantly clear how much he loved Doyeon: the love letters tucked into her purse, 100 day anniversaries, even just a simple Americano for her in the morning.
“Is that why you never hung out with us?”
“No,” you reply lightly, “Doyeon made it clear that I shouldn’t talk to you.”
Jungkook frowns, “You really don’t like each other, do you.”
You shrug, “Just always been like that,” you quirk a smile when Jungkook places the freshly cooked meat on top of your rice before serving himself.
“So what’s the plan?”
“We go to the wedding, make out a little, get Doyeon boiling. Even if she’s not interested in you, she’d still be upset knowing we are together.”
“And why is that?”
“Because it’s me,” you grin into your glass, staring at a water-stained Jungkook through the blue tinted glass. “And all you have to do, is enjoy your night and look pretty.”
His eyes crinkle, chopsticks pressing between his lips. “You think I look pretty?”
With a roll of eyes you don’t respond, preferring to dig your chopsticks in your rice. No need to inflate Jungkook’s ego too soon.
Pinning the main theme of your hangout to the side, the both of you dig into your meal. You throw conversation back and forth like pebbles, grains of sand that build and build until you’re caught up with each other’s lives. It feels so strange to admit it’s been two years since you’ve spoken to the man, and all of a sudden the once luscious meat feels dry in your mouth.
“Jeon,” you put your chopsticks down, “are you sure you want to do this with me? I mean, I know it’s all my fault and I dragged you into it. Don’t feel obligated to agree to this.”
“I’m a hundred-percent sure,” he doesn’t stop eating, shoving two spoonfuls of rice in his mouth. His cheeks puff up considerably, and your eyes trail down to his neck as he swallows, “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t wanna.”
“Right,” you don’t need a big explanation or a personal confession from Jungkook, just his consent. “Partners, Jeon?” you hold up your glass.
“Partners,” he agrees easily. The smile on his face disarms you, a full-fledged grin decked with pearly whites. Clicking his glass to yours he adds, “And it’s Jungkook, babe.”
Oh, this is going to be interesting.
Seokjin thinks the two of you are the most boring fake-couple.
His eyes dart back and forth between your spot on the couch and his desk, where Jungkook is currently seated. Seokjin is hovered over Jungkook, who’s typing and clicking furiously over his PC game. You’re on your phone, feet pulled up to the coffee table while some old Netflix movie plays in the background. To top it all off both of you didn’t even try to dress like it’s daytime, nearly matching in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. It doesn’t look like a couple coming to visit Seokin, it looks like Jungkook is playing video games with Seokjin while his cousin hangs around like she owns the place.
“Shouldn’t you guys like, I don’t know, go on dates or something?” Seokjin feels like he’s talking to the air. “Maybe get to know each other before the big day?”
Pulling your phone down to your lap and Jungkook taking off his headphones, the two of you shrug at each other, “No, we’re good.” Jungkook says.
“We know enough,” you agree cooly, “Jungkook likes Valorant.”
“I do like Valorant.”
“He likes pork belly.”
“I do like pork belly.”
“He’s ripped as hell.”
“I am ripped as hell.”
“Okay but have you guys kissed yet?” Seokjin interjects, probably compensating for the nonchalance in the room with his own brand of freaking out. You two only see each other when you’re hanging out at Seokjin’s apartment, and while he’s happy that you two aren’t doing the whole 9-yards and creating an elaborate scheme, the both of you are almost too relaxed. His anxiety is spiking.
“Yes,” Jungkook answers, “at the barbeque place we went to.”
“It was nice," you tack on, "Jin, we got this. Don't worry."
"How can I not worry when you're trying to upset our cousin on her wedding day?" he's sweating in his fully air-conditioned apartment. “I get that she’s the devil’s spawn and everything, but she’s still a human being.”
“In second grade she pushed me on the treadmill because I was going too slow. I got caught on the roller and got a bald spot for two months.”
“Okay yes one bad example—”
“And in senior year she accused me of plagiarizing her essay just because we chose the same topic. I almost didn’t get into college!” Seokjin sighs, crossing his arms. All valid points, and arguing with you isn’t a route he wants to take. “Jin, the point is that she’s constantly pushing my buttons. I’ve always been the bigger person and now that I’m old and confident I just want one jab.”
“That’s valid,” Jungkook pipes up, pressing the spacebar a few times, “I want a jab too, she cheated on me.”
“See? It’s a mutual decision.”
Seokjin asks, “Why aren’t you more worried about this?”
"Because Doyeon isn't going to chew me out on her wedding day," you checked your aunt's seating chart last week and you are far, far away from the bridal table. "We're just going to show off a little bit. Get drunk, eat some bomb steak. Break up in three months or less.”
"You don't have to just convince Doyeon, it's your entire family! Not to mention you also have to go to the bachelor party!"
"Oh I almost forgot," you reach under the couch for your laptop, "Jungkook, in two weekends from now we're flying to Las Vegas for the bachelor party and wedding. I'll buy your ticket now."
"Thanks, babe!” Jungkook sends a cheeky grin to Seokjin, who is unimpressed. “See? I remember to call her babe.”
“Alright, get out of my house,” Seokjin tugs Jungkook away from his computer, causing the younger man to swivel around in his plush gaming chair.
Jungkook frowns at the monitor, “But I’m still bronze one. I’m aiming for silver one by this weekend.”
“Don’t care. As much as I don’t like this plan, I’m not letting you two slip-up.” Seokjin pulls out his phone, revealing Doyeon’s Instagram story, “Doyeon and Namjoon are at the mall buying swimsuits for Vegas. Go to the mall and ‘accidentally’ run into them.”
You sit up straight, tilting your head to the side. “That’s not a bad idea, actually,” you bound over to grab your jacket, giving Seokjin a big fat kiss on his cheek, “Thanks Jinnie, do you know you’re—”
“I’m your favorite cousin. Yeah whatever, bye.” He waves you off, plopping in his own chair so he can enjoy his games in peace.
“I’m driving,” Jungkook declares, swiping your keys from Seokjin’s opal dish.
“Oh, hell no,” you jump on your tippy toes to reach Jungkook’s grasp on your keys, but he’s so freakishly tall there’s no way you can reach. “I drive my car!”
“I’ve always wanted to drive your car back then,” Jungkook cooes, leaning in so your noses touch. “C’mon, you can trust me.”
“You two are gross already,” Seokjin admonishes from the other side of the room, “see, it’s working!”
Poking his cheek so he gives you some space, you whip your head to hide the flush that burns on your cheeks. “Fine, but if you crash you’re buying me a new one.”
“They’re over there,” you hiss between the racks, shuffling between the plastic hangers to point to Doyeon and Namjoon at the women’s section of the store. They look disgustingly adorable together, with Doyeon pointedly telling Namjoon which swimsuit suits his stature better while Namjoon nods along and goes with whatever she says. You crouch down lower, fearing Namjoon’s tall frame would catch you. “Now we just gotta act all couple-y and they’ll notice us. Or maybe we can walk over to them? What do you wanna do?”
“Do you think we should get matching swimsuits?” Jungkook pays no mind to your sleuthing, holding up a red pair of swim trunks to his thighs, “we could pretend to be sexy lifeguards.”
You tilt your head away from the pair, only because Jungkook has been genuinely interested in this store since you’ve arrived. Putting a hand under your chin, you scrutinize the dark red cutoff shorts. “They’re cute,” you nod appreciatively, “It’ll make your thighs look thick.”
Jungkook’s grip on his hanger lowers, and he regards you with dark eyes. “You think my thighs look thick?” he asks, leaning in and putting one hand on the curve of your waist. His fingers dance on the surface of bare skin between your top and jeans, and while you’ve agreed beforehand that you two could touch each other wherever in public, it still surprises you when gooseflesh rises to the surface.
“Easy there, tiger,” you chuckle, putting a hand on his chest to stop his sudden bout of flirting. “I’m just stating the facts, we get it. You lift.”
“You’re so cute when you try to put your guard up,” he’s brushing noses with you now, and you feel the plastic of the hanger crumple pathetically between you two as the gap closes further. “But you can’t hide from me.”
And just as his lips move to press against yours, a shrill “Jungkook!” echoes throughout the large store.
You nearly flop over the boardshorts rack if not for Jungkook’s arms secured around your waist. Oh right, you think dumbly, this is all for show. Doyeon and Namjoon are right in front of you, purchases already made and looking at you two in curiosity. Well, Namjoon is definitely curious, because you know for a fact that Doyeon speaks very little of you to him and you’ve only conversed with him a handful of times. Doyeon on the other hand, looks a little stiff in the grin.
“Hello to you too,” you remark to Doyeon, who’s barely acknowledged you. You reach over to squeeze Namjoon’s arm, “Hi Joonie,” you crinkle your eyes, and you fight back a squeal when he smiles back with dimples. Doyeon has such a cute fiancé, and if you’re keeping score he’s way too good for her.
Doyeon’s eyes glaze over to where you’ve touched Namjoon, and she links her arms with his. “What a coincidence, you two are buying swimsuits where we’re buying swimsuits.”
“Well, there’s only one mall in this town and we’re going on the same trip in two weeks,” you reply blandly, and you feel Jungkook pinch your side. “Oh, Namjoon. Have you met my boyfriend Jungkook?”
“Can’t say that I have,” Namjoon reaches over to clasp Jungkook’s hand, “nice to meet you, man.”
While Namjoon and Jungkook exchange small talk, you pointedly ignore the waves of negativity Doyeon sends your way in favor of observing the two large men. Namjoon just said it was nice to meet him, therefore he has no clue who Jungkook is. Interesting, considering Doyeon two-timed in favor of Namjoon. It gets you a little antsy, and you wonder if Namjoon is faking this whole interaction or if Doyeon is hiding something.
“Baby,” Jungkook rests a hand on your shoulder, regarding you with concern, “you spaced out there, are you okay?”
“She’s like that, Jungkookie,” Jungkook gently presses your shoulders down, blocking your view of Doyeon as she regards your not-boyfriend as Jungkookie. “My cousin’s a bit of an airhead,” her tone is sweet and jesting, the backhanded jab going right above Namjoon’s head.
“I’m just hungry,” you say, forcing a tight-lipped smile.
“Well, that’s perfect,” Namjoon clasps his hands together, “Yeonie and I were just about to go grab some dinner. Why don’t you join us?”
Doyeon and you both reply immediately, “That really isn’t necessary—”
“Nonsense,” you don’t even have the heart to be upset at Namjoon because he looks so damn genuine, “It’s been two years and I haven’t even bought you a meal, y/n. After all, we’re going to be family at the end of the month.”
“Right,” you answer reluctantly.
“We’re gonna make reservations at the Cheesecake Factory,” he pulls out his phone, ready to make a call, “but you and Jungkook can finish shopping, okay? The wait will be a little long but by the time you’re done our table should be ready.”
You and Jungkook wave off Doyeon and Namjoon as they make their way to the restaurant. Your hand is caught in the air by Jungkook, who regards you with worry in his eyes. “I wasn’t kidding when I said you looked spaced out,” he says, “tell me what you were really thinking.”
Subconsciously, you squeeze his palm for comfort. “I don’t know, it just feels weird knowing Namjoon doesn’t seem to know you at all. Normally Doyeon loves to talk shit about her exes.”
Jungkook scoffs easily, “I mean, if she’s marrying the guy I’m sure she doesn’t want to let him know the details of how they ended up together.”
“True,” you decide to let it go, and follow Jungkook to the register to pay for his swim trunks.
“So,” the little ‘ding’ of the register opens up the money box, and Jungkook quickly hands the clerk his cash, “we’re having dinner with them after this?”
“Only if you want to.”
“We need to, right?” Jungkook thanks the clerk, holding the bag in one hand and threading his fingers through yours as you head out the store.
“Well, do you want to?” you ask again. Jungkook stops the two of you on the sidewalk. It isn’t a fast stop, but a slow down that makes his walk a little more thicker, more deliberate as he trudges you down the lane. You move in front of him, clutching your hands between his. “Are you okay? You barely even acknowledged Doyeon.”
“I’m fine,” you flinch at his harsh tone, and he immediately moves to remedy it by squeezing your hand back. “I’m sorry. It’s just been awhile and I’m definitely over her but,” he bows his head, feeling embarrassed, “she hurt me, you know?”
Going into this is definitely one of the more selfish plans you’ve put your mind to. Your heart pangs thinking about what must be going through everytime he sees her. If he’s reminded about all the good times they shared, or how much he’s over thought every single conversation he’s had with her up until this point.
“Of course,” you completely understand, knowing from the beginning that this whole mess would end up with some dicey feelings someway or another. “I’m just thankful you chose to stick by me. And we can talk about it if you’re comfortable,” both of you being victims of Doyeon’s brand of torture, you hope the two of you can at least be friends after all of this is over, “we don’t have to go have dinner with them.”
“But, Namjoon got us a table—”
“Namjoon will be fine. We can always have dinner with him another time,” you smile softly, “what matters is that you’re okay.”
His gaze melts, and you feel his grip loosen in your hold. He regards you with weak eyes, betraying the confidence he held himself to moments before. “Thanks, y/n,” he says, “I really appreciate that.”
“Anytime,” you reply honestly. “We can go to Cheesecake and order to-go. I can make some excuse about how my stomach hurts and that we should do a raincheck.”
“Sounds good.”
“Do you wanna eat at one of our places or eat at the park or something?” you’re already pulling up your phone, checking out the menu. “We could invite Jin too.”
“The park sounds nice,” neither of you acknowledge the fact that you’re not inviting Seokjin, and for some reason that’s okay.
“Yeah,” you agree simply, “the weather’s beautiful.”
Under any normal circumstances, you would’ve been friends with someone like Jeon Jungkook, easily. A little part of you wishes that you could’ve met Jungkook first, but Doyeon has better connections than you and always had a good crowd around despite her inner motivations. No awkward exchange happens when you suggest to Jungkook to eat together. Even though you’re not technically dating, the two of you know that eating together is better than eating alone.
And you have to admit Jungkook’s great company. The two of you drive to a reserve nearby, overlooking a tiny lake. Instead of a fancy Italian tablecloth the two of you move your car seats down and set a spare picnic blanket in the trunk. Instead of a candlelit dinner the two of you find some emergency electric tealights in the glove compartment, lighting it up between you two as you dig into your to-go boxes.
You’re a little envious that so much time has passed by. You could’ve been a little sneakier and made a better effort to communicate with Jungkook when you saw him regularly at family parties, and maybe you two would have a better friendship today. Nevertheless, the two of you mesh like peanut butter and jelly, exchanging conversation that has your cheeks sore from smiling too hard.
By the time you get to dessert, the moon is out and the stars are floating above your heads. The two of you are at war, fighting with your forks over the last strawberry in your cheesecake slice. After some careful stabbing Jungkook manages to nab it with his fork.
He almost puts it in his mouth, but instead swipes up some whipped cream to press the last strawberry to your lips.
“I think it’s working,” Jungkook says randomly as you chew the sweet fruit, “you could see it on Doyeon’s face today. She’s unsettled.”
“Yeah,” you agree, lying down on the lavender gingham picnic blanket.
“Do you know why she fights with you all the time?”
“That’s a question I’ve been asking myself since the dawn of time.”
“I think I know why.” Jungkook looks down at you with his large doe eyes, licking innocently on a spoon of whipped cream.
“Pray tell.”
“She’s jealous of you.”
“No,” you disagree easily, “she’s jealous that I have you.”
“Bzzt! Wrong,” Jungkook puts his empty container in your makeshift trash can, falling beside you and knitting his hands under his head. You have a little window on the roof of your car, so both of you are able to stare at the navy sky, “she’s always been jealous of you. Think about it. The two of you have similar lifestyles: same career path, confidence, taste, education. But even after all of that? People still like you more.”
You scoff, hands immediately reaching to fiddle with the frayed corner of fabric next to your fingers. “I don’t think so.”
“I’ve met all of Doyeon’s friends,” he informs you, “they’re weird. Like yeah, they care about each other on the surface level. But they’re nothing of substance. They’re not like your friends.”
“Please, Doyeon has everything she could ever want,” you don’t know what kind of complex you have supporting Doyeon’s life, but something deep and insecure wants to separate you two as far away from each other as possible. “Like… she’s Malibu Barbie and I’m Polly Pocket.”
Jungkook turns to face you, resting his head between his palm and leaning on his elbow. “Do you not think you’re beautiful?”
“Yeah, but compared to Doyeon—”
“You’ve always been beautiful to me, don’t you know that?”
You choke on your saliva, feeling small and skittish at the implication behind his words. It’s been two years. You’ve only been friends for two weeks. How can he possibly say that?
“I uh, saw you once,” Jungkook coughs, and you watch the way his pale cheeks unmatch the moon and instead flit to a crimson hue, “we were at some party and you were wearing this really cute black dress with a white bow in the middle. Doesn’t even matter what party because it was random, y’know? I was gonna go talk to you but Doyeon got to me first and well, the rest is history.” He breaks eye contact with you, unable to handle it.
You remember that party, vaguely. It was random, some sort of poetry slam in a shady part of town. Doyeon and you didn’t even go with each other, you were with Taehyung and she just happened to stumble in there from another nearby party. You didn’t even know Jungkook was there that night, or how you were a hair's breadth away from meeting him before Doyeon.
“Don’t ever think you’re lesser than her just because out of all the people she chose to pick on, she chose you. It’s why she never lets you get to know her boyfriends. She’s threatened by you because you’re just as special,” something low sparks in your chest at his words, “and now that you’ve finally decided to stoop to her level and fight back with a taste of her own medicine, she doesn’t know what to do.”
Feeling like your body is on a beach and you’re sinking in sand, you soften over your picnic blanket, mulling it over. “Did I make the right choice? Stooping down to her level.” Your voice is quiet, comparable to the chirping birds and buzzing gnats outside.
“We won’t know until after the wedding,” Jungkook answers honestly, “but I do know I’m sticking with you until the end. We’re friends now, got that? You have no excuse to ignore me anymore.”
You don’t want to ignore Jungkook, never in a million years. Now you know that you are envious of Doyeon, for having an opportunity to love and care for an amazing person like him. So in a sudden bout of emotion, you roll over to straddle Jungkook’s waist.
He’s shocked, hands flying to your waist to make sure you don’t wobble off. But you’re determined, and lean down to press your lips against his. He tastes like cheesecake and strawberries, the taste melding with your own as you relish in the feeling of his soft lips against yours. You melt a little when he squeaks, breaking into a soft moan as he reciprocates the gesture. He’s warm and large and he makes you feel safe. Once your brain returns to your body, you break for air. You only pull back a few centimeters, and there’s no way for you to get off because Jungkook has locked you in place.
“What was that for?” he asks breathlessly.
“Don’t know,” you’re whispering against his lips, unable to pull away, “just felt like we needed a little more practice.”
He blinks, before relaxing in a silly smile. “I agree,” he says simply, dipping you on your back so he can be on top the second time around.
“We’re in Vegas, baby!”
Every single terrible comedy movie set in Las Vegas has brought you to this very moment. You’ve always wanted to say that line. Dumping your luggage next to Jungkook’s, you flop on the nearest mattress. Thank goodness you only wore leggings and a t-shirt on the flight, it’s the optimal sleeping outfit after a long day. Feeling something hard and plastic dig into your brain, you hold up the culprit and squeal excitedly. “Look, Kook!” you wave the crinkly confection in your hands, “they put mints on the pillows!”
Despite your room being a square with two queen beds, the hotel does not skimp on quality. The decor is ornate, the white and gold trim on the doorknobs and metal appliances shimmering beautifully. The beds feel like clouds, as you try to imagine what a cloud could possibly feel like, this is it.
Jungkook immediately follows suit, ripping off his outer clothes until he’s left in his undershirt and boxers, flopping next to you on the mattress. He immediately opens his mouth when you shoot a mint, catching it easily. “I feel like we’re in a deleted scene of Crazy Rich Asians,” he says, letting the hard mint clink around his teeth, “is this the part where you tell me your family comes from old money and I’m gonna be your sugar baby?”
“Don’t be so hopeful,” you narrow your eyes, booping his button nose with your finger.
“I’m just saying, the first class flight threw me off.”
You giggle, slapping his chest, “No. If that was true, we wouldn’t be sharing a room with my cousin. Sorry you have to share the bed with me, I got the hotel with Jin and he doesn’t want to sleep with you.”
“S’okay,” Jungkook replies softly, leaning closer to make grabby hands at you, “you’re softer.”
Tentatively, you scooch over so you can lean on Jungkook’s chest. You two have a little time before Doyeon and Namjoon’s combined bachelor and bachelorette party. The past two weeks have been nice—scratch that, the past two weeks with Jungkook have been wonderful. You never cared to measure how much time passed before meeting him, but now that you’ve begun fake-dating, time is the only thing you regard. You’re already beginning to miss him, knowing that in a week, this whole arrangement will be over.
Well, not exactly over. Jungkook says you’ll remain friends after this, but you don’t really want that. You want more, and it scares you to think he may not feel the same.
But right now you’re snuggling like an old couple, sleeping comfortably between pillow-like sheets and minty breath. Your pretend boyfriend, now your pretend boyfriend with benefits, looks soft and huggable and you want to bottle up this moment forever. You say benefits because, well, the cuddling is an added bonus. Practice practice practice, Jungkook sing songs the words you used that one night under the stars, excuses to seal his lips to your lips. You’ll never argue with that. So when Jungkook’s hand tightens around your waist and pulls you closer, you relent.
One second, you’re closing your eyes and the next, you’re waking up to Seokin’s wide eyes staring back at you.
“Eep, you creepo!” you shriek, scrambling away from him. That’s when you realize Jungkook’s missing from bed, the scent of his laundry detergent lingering between the eggshell Egyptian cotton.
“Jungkook’s in the shower,” Seokjin immediately reads your mind, pulling away so he can unpack his luggage. “My flight just got in two hours ago, you both were out like a light when I arrived.”
“Ugh, I’m really not ready to party.”
“Doyeon just texted the family group chat. She reserved the rooftop, the party starts in an hour,” he talks mindlessly, rifling through his stuff. Seokjin is fiddling with his clothes, despite the fact that you know Seokjin prepares his outfits days in advance so he doesn’t have to choose. He looks concerned, pulling out a flamingo pink boardshort and setting it down on his mattress. Finally he says, “I’m worried about you.”
“Why?”
“Because. It’s clear that you’re starting to fall for Jungkook.”
The words strike you straight in the place you’re trying to avoid. You’ve been living in a fantasy these past two weeks, thinly veiled by the whole reason you two are together in the first place. Doyeon’s wedding is just around the corner, and what then?
“I’m not saying that he doesn’t feel anything for you either,” that gets your heart skipping a beat, and you secretly hold a hand to your chest under the blankets, “but do you really want to start off a relationship like this? A relationship all messy and morally objective because it’s built on revenge?”
“Don’t worry about me,” the words easily fall from your lips, “I can take care of this.”
“I hate it when you say that,” the words are curt and harsh against Seokjin’s plush lips, “I’m allowed to worry about you, y/n. You know why? Because, because you’re my favorite cousin too,” he bites his lip, walking over so he sits on your side of the bed. “So don’t tell me what I can and can’t worry about. I want you to be happy, I want you to stop holding in this anger you have for Doyeon and move on.”
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, leaning over to press your cheek against Seokjin’s shoulder. “You’re right.”
“For the first time in a long time, you’ve finally decided to lean on someone,” and both of you know who that someone is. “I don’t want you to lose him over some petty family issue. You should tell him how you feel.”
“I will,” you wrap your arms around your cousin’s slim waist in a silent thanks.
“Am I interrupting a tender family moment?”
The two of you pull away to stare at Jungkook, leaning against the doorframe that leads to the bathroom. He’s in a plain white t-shirt and the red board shorts that you bought at the mall, cutting off mid-thigh and revealing the bulky muscle underneath. You were right, the shorts do make his thighs look thick.
Seokjin groans exaggeratedly. “Yes, yes you did.”
Jungkook immediately goes to replace Seokjin’s spot, and some stray droplets fall fresh from the shower due to his slicked-back hair. “Do you wanna get ready? First party’s soon.”
“Not really,” you admit, “you’re gonna meet the family all over again.”
“Second time’s the charm,” he winked, “I’ve already met your parents and everything. Not feeling nervous at all.”
“Oh, really?”
“Really,” and the facade cools down a little, “well, maybe a little nervous for your Aunt Lillian. Her stares give me the heebie-jeebies.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from Aunt Lillian.”
“God the two of you get worse every day,” Seokjin has magically changed into his shorts, tucking himself into the bed, “don’t wake me up until we pre-game.”
Doyeon and Namjoon don’t skimp on the festivities, although in taste the ideas are Doyeon’s in its entirety. It’s lavish and colorful, with a beautiful infinity pool in the middle decorated with lavender and pink headlights. There’s a buffet table overflowing with tasty food. There’s petal pink champagne overflowing from fountains, decorated with fresh strawberries bobbing around the fizzy drink.
“I don’t know,” Namjoon and Jungkook have been talking for well over an hour, and it’s clear how well they mesh together. Heck, you’ve accepted that Jungkook may like Namjoon more than he likes you. Jungkook’s eyes sparkle as Namjoon discusses the various genres of rap and hip-hop music, explaining the potency of mature themes in a young community, “but I will say music is like another language, knows no boundaries when it comes to sending their messages to others.”
You fight the urge to chuckle when Jungkook sighs dreamily at the music theory professor. “Wow, that’s so deep.”
Getting up from your cabana, you nudge Seokjin, who’s currently flirting it up with one of Doyeon’s bridesmaids. “Hey, wanna get a drink?” you ask, throwing your wrap on the cushions to reveal your strappy red bikini.
“And chicken tenders,” Seokjin presses a kiss to the bridesmaid’s cheek, bidding her goodbye as he follows you out of the shaded area.
“Do you two lovebirds want anything?” you stare pointedly at Namjoon and Jungkook. While Namjoon’s eyes stay in contact with you, you can’t help but smile a little more when Jungkook has a hard time keeping his gaze in one place.
“I think we’re fine,” Namjoon answers for both of them, swirling his beer bottle. “I’ll meet you two at the bar once I’m done.”
“Sure thing,” Seokjin puts a hand on your back to lead you to one of the open bars. As much as you like being in a handsome hotel with money to burn, nothing beats the fact that your entire family is here to celebrate. The elders have corroborated two cabanas for poker and other games, while your younger cousins are playing ping pong and air hockey on the other side.
“Namjoon sure is a dreamboat,” Seokjin bemoans, handing you an electric orange drink. You take a sip of it, and bug out when you realize it tastes nothing like alcohol. You’re definitely in for a night. “Like I can hear him wax music thingamajib any day.”
“I thought you were into that bridesmaid.”
“A mere diversion,” he sighs, leaning his tanned arms against the bar, “can’t ignore the deep voice Namjoon has, it’s intoxicating.”
“I’m sure Jungkook would agree,” you egg on.
“What are you two talking about?” you straighten up when the man of the hour shows up at the bar, absolutely glowing under the sunset. He orders a round for the three of you, and you immediately chug your own drink to get to the next one.
“Talking about how you’re stealing Jungkook away from me,” you joke, accepting another fruity drink from Namjoon. Damn, this stuff tastes like candy.
“Oh, never,” Namjoon replies brightly, waving the thought away, “do you see the way he looks at you? Hopelessly in love.”
Maybe it’s the copious amounts of alcohol, but you feel your stomach flip-flop at the thought of love. You’ve always known what love felt like, the warmth of Namjoon’s cheeks whenever he sees Doyeon, when your mom takes care of you when you’re sick, when Seokjin makes sure you’re not emotionally constipated 24/7. But the thought of Jungkook and you in love? It’s a feeling you secretly yearn for.
“Right? It’s disgusting,” Seokjin groans with an eye roll, “like, Jungkook wasn’t like that with Doyeon at all when they were together.”
The slip up has the three of you choking on your own thoughts, staring at each other like the three have just been told you’re on a prank show. But it is no prank, and you look at Seokjin who’s absolutely horrified.
“Oh shit,” he squeaks, looking at Namjoon guiltily, “did I say something I shouldn’t have said?”
“I don’t know,” Namjoon replies coolly, “did you?”
The ominous response gets you going, and you quickly place a hand on Namjoon’s arm, placating him. “They dated, yes. But it was only for a short time and we’ve sorted everything out. Nothing for you to worry about.”
“Oh,” Namjoon quirks his head, and regards you two with pursed lips. “I’m not one of those guys who freak out over other people’s exes. I’m just surprised that I’ve only heard this now,” Namjoon takes a slow sip of his drink, and despite your drink also being cold and refreshing, you’re absolutely sweating.
“Well, I’m sure Doyeon didn’t want to worry you.”
At the mention of his future wife, he beams. “You’re right, she’s considerate like that,” and the conversation ends just like that. He holds up his drink to the two of you, and you and Seokjin do the same. With a sharp clink he leaves you two to mull, happily conversing with the next round of guests he needs to entertain for the week.
“That guy is too nice for his own good,” you shake your head, asking the bartender for your third drink within ten minutes.
Seokjin leans over you and warbles, “So you’re telling me that Namjoon has no idea that Doyeon cheated on Jungkook in order to date him?” he’s sweating just like you are, following suit to your actions and asking to make his drink a double.
“I don’t know,” you bite your lip, your teeth worrying the dark skin, “I’ve been thinking about it for a while though. I just don’t want to get involved, you know?”
“But this is different!”
“But Doyeon’s family!”
“And all of a sudden you care about Doyeon’s feelings?” Seokjin gripes back, “it’s not about Doyeon, it’s about the both of them. And if we know something that Namjoon doesn’t, wouldn’t it be in our best interests to warn him before he seals a marriage deal that costs him over a zillion dollars?” he gestures to the extravagant wedding party.
“But we don’t even have any proof that’s the case,” you frown, “Doyeon could have changed—a little, not a lot—since meeting Namjoon, maybe she thinks it’s best to reveal as little as possible.”
Seokjin wonders what kind of family he has. One as chaotic as his takes a lot to stomach, and Seokjin likes to pride himself in his strong appetite. “Fine, let’s just keep a close eye on both of them this week. And if anything remotely fishy happens, we strike.”
“Deal.”
You return to the cabana alone, with a plate of fries for both you and Jungkook. Jungkook is also alone, laying on the lounge chair with his eyes closed. It gives you a chance to ogle your fake-boyfriend a little bit, reveling in the sight of his toned body.
Setting down your plate with a sharp rap of the glass, Jungkook opens one eye. “Hey,” he smiles, drinking in your muted expression, “you okay?”
Damn Jungkook for being able to read you so well. “I think so. It’s nothing, really.”
“Well, will you tell me if it’s something?”
“Yeah, I will.”
“So, I do have something to tell you though.” Jungkook sits up, regarding you wearily. “Can you… stand in front of me?” Confused, you shove a fry in your mouth and walk up to him as directed, your back blocking the entrance as you stand in front of him. “Okay, come closer. Now bend down,” you bend your back 90 degrees, and he presses a hand to your shoulder to stop you, “no, no. With your breasts out, just a little—there! Arch your back. Like you’re doing the Sorority Squat.”
“Excuse me—”
“The music isn’t even that loud,” he mutters to himself, “no one would need to push their boobs in my face to hear me.”
“Jungkook, is someone pressing boobs to your face?”
“Why,” he breaks into a playful grin, “jealous?”
“Not if it’s Aunt Lillian.”
“Unfortunately it wasn’t,” he twiddles with the drawstrings of his shorts. “It was Doyeon.”
Doyeon? She didn’t walk by your cabana all day. Heck, she barely greeted you when you arrived with Jungkook. But when Jungkook’s alone is when she decides to pounce? And with what motive?
“I don’t know,” he’s rambling to himself, “maybe I’m overthinking it. It was only half a second.”
“Jungkook, I have something to tell you,” you say instead, panic in your features.
“Is it something urgent?”
“Well, no but—”
“Then tell me when we get back to the room,” Jungkook easily pulls you onto his lap, and you instantly heat up when you feel your bare butt press against Jungkook’s golden thighs. “Like you said, we’re in Vegas. Let’s have fun while we can.”
“Okay,” you tuck your head between his neck and collarbone, reaching to press a kiss to his smooth jawline.
Relaxing against the plush lounge chair Jungkook feeds you fries while talking about the things he wants to do this week. It’s his first time in Vegas and he wants to make the most of it. He wants to visit all the buffets he sees on Buzzfeed compilations, relax at the pool, maybe catch a show. The thought of spending all week with him and your family is nice, and suddenly you don’t feel so awkward sitting on his lap, and eventually he pulls you between his thighs so you can lay on his chest.
“And between you and me,” he fake whispers against the shell of your ear, as if he’s telling you the biggest secret, “we’re the hottest couple here.”
The next three days leading up to the wedding are relatively uninteresting.
Uninteresting in the best way possible. On Monday you and Jungkook spend time with your little cousins, taking them to The Adventuredome, one of the resort's indoor theme parks. On Tuesday you and Jungkook go shopping at the outlet malls with your parents, blowing hundreds of dollars on cheap Levis that have your luggage bursting with a new wardrobe. In between all of that Seokjin and occasionally Namjoon joins you two in your buffet journey, hitting up the top spots and filling your tummies to the brim with delicious food.
On Wednesday, Jungkook brandishes two gold-foiled tickets in front of you, waving them around like a fan. With one finger, he pushes away your Pokémon battle, “I got us tickets to Cirque du Soleil,” he announces proudly, “waited in line for an hour.”
You gape, scrambling off of your bed and throwing your Nintendo Switch to the side. “Jungkook,” you marvel, “these are so expensive. How’d you manage to get a show for tonight?”
He shrugs, “Looked around.”
“You’ve been impulse buying a lot this week,” you tease, “like really, you don’t need three pairs of the same ripped jeans.”
“This wasn’t an impulse buy,” he says, “I’ve been looking around for shows. Just managed to pick them up today, so go get dressed for our date.”
Did Jungkook just call it a date? Giddy with excitement you throw the covers off, running into the bathroom to get ready. What a surprise, you didn’t think Jungkook would be into spontaneous things like this.
Seokjin left the bathroom open, so when you walk in the room it is steamy and warm. Your dear cousin is still in the shower, probably waiting for his conditioner to pass three minutes of set-in time.
“What are you getting ready for?” Seokjin asks over the rain shower.
“Kook got us tickets to Cirque du Soleil,” you chirp happily, looking through your skin care products.
“I wanna come!”
“Nope! Jungkook called it a date.”
“Oh, a date,” Seokjin drawls, putting his head under the water to rinse his hair clean. “Well then, should I vacate the room for tonight?”
“What, no!” you’ve closed the door, so thankfully Jungkook can’t hear you talking about him. “We’re not doing anything. We’re just two friends who are fake-dating going on a date.”
“Sounds like a real date, though,” Seokjin wraps a towel around himself to cover all his important bits before getting out of the shower, bumping elbows with you so he can brush his teeth. “Either way, I’ll be gone tonight. It’s my turn to watch the baby cousins. Don’t have too much fun while I'm in their room watching Despicable Me for the millionth time.”
“We’ll be sure to stop by with some pizza or something,” you tease, a little wiggle in your hips when you vacate the bathroom.
By the time you and Jungkook are ready, you two are dressed impeccably. Jungkook is wearing one of the ripped black jeans he bought on Tuesday, combined with a white button up and black blazer. A classic outfit with a little bit of Jungkook-themed flair. And to Jungkook’s surprise, you’re wearing the dress that he first saw you in, all those years ago. You’ve gained a little weight since college, but you still fill out the little black dress beautifully, the little white bow in the middle adding a simple yet adorable touch. It took a little sleuthing and searching through your old college clothes, but you were determined to find it when Jungkook reminded you how much you love the design.
Clearly from the way Jungkook is currently gaping at you like a bloated fish, he loves it too.
The show is beautiful and colorful, leaving you speechless and in tears by the end of it. Jungkook lets you hold his hand the entire time, feeling a bout of anxiety anytime the acrobats fall gracefully despite the large height.
Overall, it was a wonderful show, paired with your equally enamouring date. It’s getting harder and harder to distinguish what’s fake and what’s real in your heart, and throughout the night you’re sorely reminded that you should tell Jungkook how you feel.
But by the time you get to the room your parents are calling you, asking to get their suit and dresses out of the car so hotel service can do a last minute press and dry clean.
“I’ll be back,” you say to Jungkook, “I need to go get their clothes out of the car. They’re always so forgetful.”
“Want me to come?” he offers, hand shying away from inserting the keycard in.
“No, I’ll only be fifteen minutes, tops.”
“So I guess this is this the part where I get a goodnight kiss?” he asks cheekily, leaning on his heels so his tall frame reaches yours. You don’t hesitate to give a short peck to his pretty pink lips. He pouts at the brevity, “that was too quick.”
“Go inside,” you insist, “the sooner you get ready for bed the sooner I can get ready for bed.”
“Then more kisses?”
“Then more kisses.”
Jungkook breaks into an all-teeth smile, unable to control himself when he dips down and steals a longer, more lingering kiss to your lips. “I had a great time tonight,” he says, mimicking every single teenage rom-com protagonist who’s deeply in love with the popular jock. “Don’t take too long, okay?”
You nod, pushing him inside, “C’mon, if you stopped talking I’d be back by now!”
Once the door closes shut, you let yourself do a little dance in the hallway, wiggling your butt and giving yourself a mini-celebration. You quickly text your group chat that you just came back from the Cirque show.
Jimin: what, a date with your fake date?
Hobi: jeon jungcock? 👀👀
Jimin: whaaaaaattttt. U’ve gotta have sat in his lap at least. 3 times since you’ve started this ting
Hobi: i’ve heard things in college…
Taehyung: u are all gross and i hate u
Taehyung: but so am i bc im very curious
Just as you’re about to send a heated reply, the elevator dings, revealing a pissed off Doyeon. She’s bare-faced, in a fluffy lilac bath robe and matching puff ball slippers. You slip in right beside her, making sure there’s a comfortable amount of space between you two.
“You’re going to the parking garage too?” you ask, eyes lingering on the lit button.
“Yeah,” she’s looking at her phone, a few stray hairs from her mahogany bun falling onto her forehead, “Aunt Lillian left her medication in the car. I don’t know why she has to send me, I’m busy getting married.”
“My parents left their formal clothes in the car,” you shrug, “you know, my parents and Aunt Lillian share the same brain cell. Gotta help them out once in a while.”
The icy silence in the elevator is probably the calmest you and Doyeon have been since you’ve announced your relationship status with Jungkook. You fight the sigh, opting to take out your phone and open some unread messages.
Jeon Jung-boo-thang: hurry up, the bed’s cold without u
You: lool, why do u look constipated
Jeon Jung-boo-thang: because i am, hurry up. Im bringing ur switch to the toilet and playing on your profile
You: JEON WAIT YAMPERS AT 5HP GO TO THE POKEMON CENTER U HEATHEN
You tilt your head a centimeter, feeling Doyeon breathing down your neck like Puff the Magic Dragon. You look at her with wide eyes. Her long, slender neck manages to snake its way next to your head, “Can I help you?” you ask amusedly, clutching your phone to your chest.
“Are you two really together?” she asks, batting her lashes. All this week she’s left you alone, and you’ve been wondering when she’s going to make herself known. It’s a little self-absorbed you have to admit, but ever since Namjoon’s ignorance to Doyeon’s previous relationship, you’ve been on edge.
“Of course we are,” you spit back, “I love him.”
And you must be very convincing, because Doyeon’s gaze falters just a fraction. You glare at her, staking your claim. Ever since Jungkook told you the reason Doyeon hates you is because she’s jealous, you’ve started to feel a bit of sympathy for her. Doyeon is beautiful and smart, she has no reason to feel this way. But the brain holds fickle thoughts sometimes, bringing darkness to the mind.
“He loved me first,” she bites back, lifting her chin.
“And why do you care?” you laugh tonelessly. The elevator dings open, and you’re met with the open air and concrete of the parking garage. “He may have loved you first, but he’ll love me last.”
You leave the elevator first, a little pep in your step as you make your way to the rental car to gather your parent’s things. While the words you uttered are white in nature and may not hold any sort of weight to them, it manages to bring Doyeon to her knees, absolutely quaking in the elevator.
You’re tasting revenge, and it’s sweet.
“Okay, you need to leave,” Seokjin pulls away the shot glass from your lips, “I didn’t spend days planning the itinerary for you to mess it up. Bridal party in Doyeon’s suite and the groom’s party in Namjoon’s parents suite.”
“That’s dumb,” you chastise, crossing your arms, “we’re all meeting at the same club at 10. Why can’t we pre-party together?”
“Because it’s tradition!”
“Screw tradition,” you stumble on your heels as you purse your lips at Jungkook, “Kook, when we get married I don’t wanna do a whole boy-and-girl party. We’re equals, right?”
“Of course, baby,” he cooes, being careful not to smudge your makeup when he presses his lips to the crown of your head. “But for the sake of Seokjin’s sanity, you should probably go to Doyeon’s. It’ll only be an hour or two.”
You gasp exaggeratedly at the blatant betrayal. He only grins cheekily in response, dipping down to press a wet kiss to your cheek. “Fine,” you cross your arms, snatching back your drink from Seokjin’s grasp to knock it down.
Leaving the bachelor pre-party pains you considerably. They’re having such a good time joking around the suite, telling each other fun stories and relaxing in chairs as they watch TV. This is your kind of crowd, not to mention that you can peacefully check out Jungkook’s ass in those tight dress pants without any crazy club lights distorting your vision.
From past family party experience you already have a feeling what’s coming for you in the ladies’ suite.
Loud music pours from Doyeon’s suite, and it’s completely unlocked. The bridal party is raving, ten seconds away from being completely drunk and immobile. The lights are being manually shut on and off like some sort of cheap rager, and you have to tell Yoojung to tone it down before you get a seizure.
The stench of acidic drinks and the tang of alcoholic air is palpable, and instead of a shot you opt for a glass of peach champagne to slow you down.
As you walk deeper into the suite, you notice a crowd forming by the balcony. Tapping your cousin Nari on the shoulder, you regard her with a hug and kiss. “What’s going on over there?” you ask, heels not helping you see any better.
Nari’s all blushy and pink, hiccuping as she gestures to the balcony. “Her maid of honor got Doyeon a very special gift!”
Managing to weave through the women blocking your view, you fight the urge to gag when you have a clear view of the scene in front of you.
You really don’t understand the purpose of bachelor and bachelorette parties. “One night to be single all over again!” they all say, even though they’re not actually single? Like why does the couple suddenly get one night of forgiveness when you’ve already spent years being in a committed relationship?
Why is it okay that Doyeon’s dry humping a stripper on the balcony? Her white silk dress is ruched dangerously high, soon close to flashing her family. Aunties and friends and the like are cheering her on, and she flips her head perfectly to all the phones shoved in their faces, making sure to get the perfect angle.
Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you turn back in the hopes that your other family members would be willing to have a good old-fashioned tip back with you.
You squeal when your hands accidentally land on a bare, oiled chest. You look up, mortified at the large man covered in black harnesses. “Hey babe, I’m Wonho,” he says, faking a sultry gaze as he looks at you up and down, “you’re part of the bridal party too? Wanna dance?”
Feeling naked, you push past him, careful not to get anything on your dress. Wonho? Wonno.
Jungkook loves your family.
(Except Doyeon.)
As much as he told you not to worry about him, and he’ll be completely fine when he meets your family, he couldn’t help be a little wary on the flight over. After all, it’s been two years and he didn’t know how things would be different.
Chaoticism and all, your family is a thing to be cherished. Even though Yoongi has been on mood swings that make Jungkook question his sanity from time to time, and Seokjin is secretly breathing down Jungkook’s back every time he so glances at you, he thinks things are right where they should be.
But despite all that they regarded him with familiarity, hugged and kissed him like old friends, something is different. They’ve turned over a new page for him. They don’t bring up Doyeon. They ask about his family, his job, his life in the city. They ask about how you and Jungkook met, and how happy they are for you. How happy they are for him.
Oh, how he wishes everything could be different. In another world, you two would already be together.
He wasn’t lying back at the cabana when he said you two are the hottest couple at the resort, including the bridal party (but don’t tell Namjoon). You look absolutely stunning in your sparkly red dress, accentuating all the right parts and lighting up the whole room.
When he finds you in the club you’re sitting down with your Aunties, keeping the elders company while the younger ones are flagging down the bartenders. He thinks it’s cute, how well you fit in between them, coddling you like you’re still a child in their eyes.
“Dear, your boyfriend is here!” your one Aunt yells over the loud EDM.
You lift your head up quickly, giving him the prettiest smile. Your teeth glow purple under the neon lights, and he fights the urge to laugh when he holds out a hand. “Mind if I steal her from you?”
“Of course, she’s gotta live a little!”
You pout, a little wobbly but nevertheless still in the right mind as you shuffle out of the booth to meet his awaiting arms. “Hey handsome,” your voice is thick and sweet-smelling, “come here often?”
“Only when my girlfriend does,” he replies cheekily, hands immediately coming to your butt to smooth out your dress. He shys a bit when your Aunties hoot and holler at his public display of affection, but all he wants to do was pull the hem down a little bit. No way is he going to let anyone get a flash of your goods.
“Let’s dance!” you take your hand in his, leading him to a comfortable corner of the dance floor.
Clubs aren’t really your scene, aligning with Jungkook’s sentiments towards the loud generic music and terrible smell. But you’re in Vegas, and he feels that it’s all part of the package to experience the nightlife at least once. He puts his hands on your waist and you giggle like you’re in prom, hands coming to rest on the collar of his button down.
“Hey,” he says with a lopsided smirk, “wanna make out?”
“Sure,” he notices that you don’t even check if anyone’s seeing, and it makes his heart flutter when you don’t hesitate to get on your tiptoes to meet him halfway.
He’s always hoped for a moment like this, a moment where the room stops spinning and both your minds click into place. It’s almost comical, how he distinctly notes that the music fades once his lips touch yours. The kiss is hot, yet intimate. Even though he makes excuses to kiss you all the time because of practice, it goes to show that you two definitely never needed it. Your tiny hands grip the collar of his button down, bringing you two impossibly close despite the hot air. His larger hands grip at the strings that hold your measly dress together, grappling at any excuse to get to your soft skin. The two of you are a natural when it comes to each other’s intimacy.
The two of you pull away, mesmerized. You haven’t kissed like that before. He melts under your stare, his thumb reaching to nick off any lip gloss that’s moved in the process.
Seokjin comes down the floor to haul you both by the shoulders, “C’mon lovebirds, they’re taking wedding shots!”
The two of you follow your cousin to the crowd of people that is your family, already with their own drinks in hand. Doyeon and Namjoon are sitting atop the bar, making a very loud toast that consisted of a quick “thank you!” and “we love you!” before downing their drinks with their arms linked together. The room is thrumming with excitement for tomorrow’s festivities, and surprisingly, you and Jungkook included. He tucks himself in your body like a puzzle piece, hugging you from behind while he watches Namjoon’s eyes sparkle with love under the neons.
The nightclub gets a little blurry after that, with the copious amounts of alcohol and shameless actions from your family and friends. By the time it’s twelve Jungkook notices you swaying at a rate that you can’t handle. He knows your limits and knows when you have to urge to pee every five minutes, it’s time to go. With a chaste kiss you leave him at the bar, deciding to make a pitstop to the bathroom before telling Jungkook you want to head up.
You’re locked in a stall when you hear Yoojung’s voice.
“Ugh,” she groans, voice echoing through the tiny room. “Jungkook is so sexy. Do you see the way he’s dancing out there? He’s a literal babe magnet, I can’t believe he ended up with someone like y/n.”
You don’t move a muscle, pressing your ear against the door that hides you. The silly slander isn’t news to you, Doyeon has been feeding her friends all sorts of bullcrap so they wouldn’t bother talking to you.
“Yeah, Jungkook’s a real treat but he dated Doyeon first. Sounds like she’s into sloppy seconds,” Elly replies, another bridesmaid you’ve met in passing. “But I don’t know, they do look happy together.”
“Please, I’m sure Jungkook’s just using her so he can get one more chance at Doyeon before she ties the knot,” you bristle, the thought of Jungkook still having feelings for Doyeon makes your heart thud painfully against your chest, “like, what a downgrade. Namjoon and Doyeon do not deserve this drama. If Jungkook ever liked Doyeon at all, he wouldn’t have come. Period.”
You slam the door open, causing Elly to squeal and Yoojung’s YSL lipstick to fall onto the sink. You’re the epitome of relaxation, walking towards the sink to wash your hands. The bridesmaids simply stare at you, unable to formulate a comeback. When you finally dry your hands, you say your next words.
“Jungkook is here because he loves me,” an act act act. This is all an act. You shouldn’t be this offended because you know it’s all false. “And you’re wrong. It’s not Jungkook that doesn’t deserve Doyeon. Jungkook was too good for Doyeon.”
And you slam your heels against the tile, stilettos pounding to the beat of the music. Your exit is full of anger and frustration as you ignore the burn in your step and the ache in your heart, flagging the first bartender you see to get you a double.
Shot for shot, that anger soon melts into guilt as Yoojung’s words sink in. The thought of Jungkook using you to get to Doyeon is terrible, you can barely stomach the thought. But that’s exactly what you’re doing, right? You’re using Jungkook to get back at Doyeon.
Why did you even want to get back at Doyeon anymore? Why do you have to prove anything to her? If she just continues to push you around, isn’t that more on her than it is on you?
Jungkook soon finds you after you’ve nursed a few drinks, leaning unceremoniously against a barstool. His eyes widen at your state, and he immediately sheds his jacket to wrap it around your waist.
“Why did you drink so much?” he chastises, “it’s the night before the wedding.”
“Jungkookie,” you warble, clutching your stomach, “I don’t feel so good.”
He sighs, bending down. “Get on my back. Make sure the jacket covers you up, okay?”
He doesn’t even grunt when you put all your weight on him, feeling like a ragdoll as he hoists you up. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, letting him carry you to your room. Most of the older family already went upstairs to sleep, so none of your cousins could care less when they see you get hauled away by Jungkook.
You inhale, he smells like sweat and cologne. “I like putting my head between your neck,” you babble, and you feel Jungkook chuckle through his chest, “you smell so nice there. It’s the bestset! Comfiest place ever, ‘specially when m’sleepy.”
“Are you sleepy now, baby?” You love how smooth the petname falls from his lips.
“I will be when we get upstairs,” you reply, happy to see the elevator is empty. “I’m just all up in my head.”
“Is that why you were drinking so much? You said you were gonna stop earlier.”
“Yeah, but,” you shamefully tuck your head in his shoulder, “I was frustrated.”
“Frustrated? At who?” concern laces his tone as he struggles to hold you with one hand and fumble for his key in the other. You tighten your legs around his slim waist until the door clicks open, and he immediately walks over to your bed to plop you down. “Babe, are you crying?” he finally has a good look at your face, horrified to see the streaks of tears mixed with mascara running down your face.
“I wa-was jealous,” you confess tearily, clutching your face in your hands, “some girls in the bathroom were calling you sexy and that you were only here so you could try to win over Doyeon. I know it sounds ridiculous and you would never do that but. The thought of you getting back with her makes me so jealous and I hate it! I’m starting to feel so guilty about this, all of this. I put all of this on ourselves and I’m ruining it.”
“Ruining what? You’re not making any sense.” Jungkook places a hand on your knee, crouching down so he can look up at you.
“I’m ruining us,” you gush despondently, “I’m ruining any potential of us before we even start.”
Jungkook freezes, hand clutching your knee like a lifeline. The potential of you two together? You’ve thought of that? Jungkook didn’t drink much tonight, so his mind is definitely running on all cogs.
Coming to a conclusion, he rubs slow, soothing circles on your knee, his other hand reaching up to wipe the tears from your face. “You’re not ruining anything,” he declares firmly, “that’s impossible. I may have agreed to fake-date you because of Doyeon, but I stayed because of you.”
His heart aches seeing you so upset, and he decides to take initiative to get you out of your clothing and ready for bed. You don’t have any words, opting to let Jungkook take care of you as you try to calm yourself down. He finds a spare t-shirt, a long one so you’ll be comfortable. He doesn’t bat an eye when he unzips your dress, in favor of balling up the shirt and getting you clothed as fast as possible. He rifles through the bathroom to find your makeup wipes, and he’s gentle when he scrubs up the once pretty makeup you spent half an hour doing. Barefaced and fresh, you look sleepy and ready to crash.
But before Jungkook can tuck you in, you clutch his arm.
“Jungkook,” you murmur sleepily, “I think I lo—”
“I know, baby,” he doesn’t want a confession like this, and he’s sure you wouldn’t want it either. You still look a little green and you’re not sober, so he makes the executive decision to pin these feelings for later. “I’m not trying to invalidate you, I promise. I want you to tell me this, all of this in the morning. We’ll talk then.”
“Okay,” you melt in the sheets, pulling the blankets up to your chest. When you see Jungkook move away from the bed, you jolt, “Where are you going?”
Jungkook smiles, reaching over to tuck you back in, “I left my blazer in Namjoon’s room. I’ll be right back, okay?”
He walks out of your room as quietly as he can, making sure to close the door slowly. Once it’s sealed shut, he leaps up, giving himself a silent cheer as he bounds down the hall. You like him back!
The smile on his face is tired but full of fervor as he makes his way to Namjoon and Doyeon’s suite. He doesn’t even care that he probably has to talk to Doyeon to get his jacket back, thoughts filled with the excitement of his requited feelings and going back to his room to cuddle up with you.
He doesn’t even have to knock when the large double doors swing open. Dumbfounded, he looks down at Doyeon, wearing a tiny black nightie and dangling his jacket with one finger. It’s an outfit that leaves nothing to the imagination, and he feels his neck heat up at the feeling he’s encroaching on an intimate moment.
“You left this,” she says slowly, a tiny smirk on her lips.
“Uh, thanks,” he says, making sure not to touch her when he grabs his blazer.
In her other hand she holds up her room’s designated ice bucket. “Could you also get me some ice, please? Namjoon’s fast asleep and I really don’t want to walk out all… exposed.”
He swallows his sigh, knowing it’s going to take significantly longer to get back to you when Doyeon drawls like this. “Of course,” he replies tersely, “after all, you are the bride.”
“Thanks, Jungkookie.”
He makes quick work of getting Doyeon the ice, pumping his long legs down the hall. The ice room is cold and cramped, barely enough for his tall frame to fit in. He jabs the container in the holder, pressing the button ten times per second to get as much ice out as possible.
As soon as he turns around with the ice, he drops the whole bucket.
Like glass, it shatters onto the ground, hundreds of little clear pebbles skimming across the floor like marbles. Doyeon’s pushing Jungkook against the ice machine, freshly manicured hands splayed across his chest. Her body is flush against his, making sure that he feels all of her with her thin silk gown.
“What the fuck, Doyeon get off of me!” a little part of him hopes she’ll come to her senses on her own so he doesn’t have to put his hands on her.
“C’mon, Kookie,” her voice is a sickly candy sweet, her eyes wide with hunger as she takes in his form, “just one more night, you and me. Like old times. One more night before I tie the knot.”
“You’re crazy,” he balks, running his hand through his hair, “this is sexual harassment, do you know that?”
“You don’t mean that, Kookie,” Doyeon dips a red-tipped nail down his chest, “why settle for someone like y/n when I’m right here?”
He grabs her wrists, firm. She winces at the contact, but doesn’t say anything when Jungkook delivers her a scary glare. It gets her quiet, fearful of this version of Jungkook. Doyeon’s never seen Jungkook like this before, so unwilling to bend at her whim and emanating all his power against her.
“Why settle for your cousin?” he whispers like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “because, I love her.”
Her lip curls in disgust, nails digging into the palm of his hand. “But you loved me first.”
“And I’ll love her last,” he spits pack, letting go of her. His anger splits for a brief second, regarding Doyeon with sorrow, “this is low, even for you.”
Jungkook pushes past the ice, wobbling out of the ice room. He doesn’t look back, he just knows that he needs you right now. He needs to tell you everything, figure out a plan to cancel the wedding or something.
But when he crashes inside the room, you’re dead asleep. He can’t find the courage to wake up Seokjin as well, who returned and is sleeping in his club outfit. He groans, feeling useless as he stares at the two of you, ignorant of what just conspired ten minutes ago.
And Namjoon, what is he going to tell Namjoon? Poor guy doesn’t deserve any of this.
Walking up to your side of the bed, he tucks your loose hair behind your ear. You look so peaceful now, so beautiful.
It’s just going to have to wait until the morning.
The morning of the wedding, you wake up alone.
The first thought that runs through your head is that Jungkook has rejected you. The little, insecure bug that will never go away in your brain fills you with rash thoughts. He’s on a flight half way back home and he regrets this whole week.
But after that exaggeration, you notice two aspirin and a bottle of water on your nightstand, along with your phone that’s fully charged.
You pull up the screen to check the dozens of messages that flood your app.
Jeon Jung-boo-thang: morning babe, im sorry i had to leave early. Namjoon showed up at our door freaking out that his suit is the wrong fit and shade. Now im running around vegas trying to find a replacement that doesn’t look like an elvis presley extra
Jeon Jung-boo-thang: but i didn’t forget what you said last night, i promise! Just go get ready and i’ll meet u at the chapel outside the resort.
Jeon Jung-boo-thang: i also have something to say to you
Jeon Jung-boo-thang: wow i didn’t realize how ominous that sounds. Dw, everything will be fine
When someone tells you something will be fine, it’s a universal agreement that no, things will not be fine.
So you get dressed, and put on your makeup mindlessly. You don’t really know what to make of Jungkook’s cryptic message, but you decide to leave those thoughts in the back of your mind as you go to the other rooms to help your family get ready.
Seokjin is busy tying the ring bearer’s tie, looking handsome with his slicked back hair and polished grey suit. “Morning, cousin,” he sing-songs, “you look beautiful today!”
You smooth out your dress, a cascading silver number with starry sparkles. You feel like you’re living out your magical girl fantasies, wrapped up in layers of tulle and a sparkly sweetheart bodice.
“Right back at you. Say, you didn’t see Jungkook this morning, did you?”
“No, but I heard he’s with Namjoon hunting for a new suit. Why?”
“Nothing,” you lean against the guest table, “he just said something really ominous over text.”
“I will never get a peaceful day so long as I’m in this family,” he says this directly to the ring bearer, a toddler who’s obviously confused at his uncle’s weird sayings.
Your phone beeps conveniently, displaying Jungkook’s name.
Jeon Jung-boo-thang: just got his suit. We’ll be there in fifteen. Meet me at the garden behind the chapel, please. It’s urgent
Now you’re just worried. So you tell Seokjin your sentiments, and that he should have his phone on hand in case you needed him. With a confused nod, you leave him to go down to the garden.
The groomsmen and bridesmaids are already at the chapel taking pictures. Only the wedding party is really allowed at this time, but you manage your way through the gardens virtually undetected. Jungkook’s already waiting for you, hiding under a white gazebo overlooking the hotel’s fountain.
He looks gorgeous in his all black pinstripe suit, hair pushed back and pants fitted perfectly around his waist and thighs. When he sees you he gets up, full of skittish energy. You note that his hair isn’t even styled, only washed and curling slightly at the ends, as if he’s in a rush.
“W-wow,” he marvels when you rush up to him, “you look gorgeous.”
You drop the handful of silver tulle, letting it fall to the floor. “Jungkook,” you clasp his hand in both of his, guilt flooding your eyes. You’ve been thinking about this all morning, and you need to cut to the chase. Jungkook tries to open his mouth but you silence him with a finger on his lips. “I can’t—I can’t do this. I know this sounds really stupid and you probably don’t want anything to do with me after this, but I shouldn’t have made this elaborate scheme,” you bite your lip, feeling even more antsy as Jungkook squirms in his grip. He however, is trying very hard to focus with his eyes, confused at your sudden confession. “I like you, Jungkook. I don’t want to parade you around like a revenge plot anymore, it isn’t fair and it’s wrong in so many ways—”
“That’s great,” he says simply, brown eyes swirling with thoughts, “um, ditto. But—”
“Wow,” you frown, “I pour my heart out to you and this is what I get?”
“It’s great that you want to be selfless right now,” Jungkook takes your hand, firm and tight, “but without this elaborate scheme, we wouldn’t be saving asses like we are right now.”
“What are you talking about?” You thought Jungkook rushed you down here so you could talk about each other’s feelings before the wedding.
“Doyeon just threw herself on me last night. I got her ice and she took that as an invitation to seduce me like an episode of Sex and the City. Namjoon needs to divorce her, like yesterday.”
Your face then morphs into something dark and ugly, and you fling your whole confession out the window. The thought of Doyeon going as far as throwing herself on Jungkook as a last ditch attempt to get back at you, has you seeing blood red. “What? Why didn’t you tell me this sooner!”
“You were asleep!” he shoots back, putting his hands on your shoulders. He rubs warm strokes up and down your bare arms, “please relax. You’re shaking.”
“And why didn’t you tell Namjoon when you were driving around all morning?”
“I tried to!” he retorts, hands swinging in the air. You huff when his hands land back on your shoulders, preventing you from running to the chapel to extract Doyeon out yourself, “but he just kept talking shit about how much he loves Doyeon and he can’t imagine being together with anyone but her and I felt so bad! I’m sorry I chickened out. I really don’t wanna be the one to break Namjoon’s heart. I’m just the plus one!”
You pinch your brows, mulling it over. “Fuck it, let’s crash a wedding,” you declare, “where’s Namjoon and how can we get him alone?”
Jungkook exhales, a hand carding up to loosen his thin silver tie. “He’s taking pictures with the groomsmen right now. It’s gonna be awhile before we get a chance to talk.”
“Fuck,” you curse, sitting down on the white bench. Jungkook presses soothing circles on your back. “We have no choice, we have to get to him before the ceremony starts.”
“You’ll have to get through me, first.”
Doyeon’s not even in her wedding dress when she strides up to the two of you. She’s in ballet flats with her hair and makeup done, but the only thing she’s wearing is the thin underdress of her actual ball gown, a simple silk negligee that reaches her ankles. You don’t even know how she’s managed to escape the bridal party, especially without her dress.
Feeling protective, you step in front of Jungkook. “Before you say anything,” you murmur, “I’m not ruining your wedding, and I never wanted to. You’re ruining it because of your mistakes.”
“Oh, boo-hoo,” Doyeon rolls her eyes, playing with her nails, “I didn’t even do anything wrong, everyone knows that on the bachelorette’s night she can do whatever she wants. Namjoon could’ve fucked whoever too if he wasn’t so faithful.”
“Namjoon is ten times the partner you are and would never do that,” You’re seeing red, unable to comprehend the complete garbage spilling from Doyeon’s lips. “You touched my boyfriend without his consent, and I will never forgive you for that,” your voice is scarlet, angry and thin.
“It’s not like he isn’t used to it, I—”
“NO!” the sound that comes out of your mouth has all three of you flinching, and you’re thankful the gazebo is far enough so that the rest of the wedding party is oblivious to your actions. “You’re not allowed to justify yourself anymore, Doyeon. What you did was fucked up, what you’ve done to all of us is fucked up!” You realize now that you didn’t need to get back at Doyeon with a fake date, what you needed was this. You needed a reprieve, a chance to lay down your law. “Jungkook was right all along. You are jealous. You’re jealous and selfish and have no shame. You think you own whatever you set your eyes on, but you’re wrong. We’re not objects, we’re people.”
You walk up to Doyeon, eye to eye. You jab a hand at her chest, pushing her back slightly. You soak up your cousin’s expression, and you watch as Doyeon’s eyes pop out in surprise at your act of boldness. “So you have a choice here. You can either swallow your pride and leave Namjoon at the aisle quietly and save whatever dignity you have left. Take your pathetic ass on the next flight back home and pack up your apartment. Or, we can start a big scene at your ceremony,” you probably look manic, filled with freshly injected power, “I know Seokin’s always wanted to yell ‘I object!’ at a wedding.”
“You have no proof,” Doyeon glares right back, taking a step closer to you. Your noses are practically touching, but you dig your heels in the white-stained wood, puffing up your chest and standing your ground.
“Doesn’t matter,” you bite back, “what matters is that Namjoon will doubt you. Namjoon knows we’d never do anything to sabotage a wedding without a valid reason. Even if you do get married tonight, we have Jungkook’s word and proof of a relationship that overlaps with his. I find this option to be far worse because it’s prolonging the inevitable,” you shrug, “I hope you two didn’t sign a prenup.”
Hot, angry tears mess up her meticulously done makeup. Black rivers carve through her porcelain skin, showing the feelings that have been dormant since been hidden under a facade. Doyeon’s eyes dart back and forth between the two of you. She’s practically vibrating in combined fear and rage, seeing blurry images and memories and regrets of what could’ve been if not for her self-absorption. And finally, your cousin comes to a decision.
“I hate you,” she emphasizes each word with the most concentrated of venoms in her tone. WIth one last look at the two of you, she stomps away. Instead of going to the direction of the chapel however, she takes the shortcut back to the hotel.
Her grave words are unsurprising, but nevertheless disappointing. A thinly veiled smile grazes your lips, sadder than ever as you watch your cousin go. “And I pity you.”
As soon as she’s gone Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to scoop you up, hugging you tightly as you fight the urge to cry again. “Oh babe, that was really hot. The way you stood your ground? That was amazing!” Jungkook takes out his silver pocket square to wipe the stray tears that threaten to ruin your makeup. “You’re so strong, don’t you know that? You did it and I’m so proud of you.”
As much as you want to revel in the affection, go back and bed and fall asleep until noon, you can’t. Grasping Jungkook by the hand, you tug him to the chapel. “C’mon,” you say, “we have to corner Namjoon.”
The groomsmen photos are done by the time you get there. Thankfully, the to-be-groom doesn’t look too occupied. His eyes widen upon seeing you two stumble from the garden of all places.
“Oh, y/n. Jungkook,” Namjoon tilts his head curiously at how winded you two look, equally flushed and out of breath. From your state, Namjoon muses that it must've taken a lot of effort to finally get to the groom unattended, save for a few random family members he’s making small talk with, “The wedding isn’t for another hour but I must say, you two look radiant together. Doyeon always thought you’d end up an old spinster-catlady, but I always told her that you’re too beautiful to be single for long,” he pauses to send the aforementioned man a wink, “Jungkook’s a lucky guy. What were you two doing back there?”
“Uh, things?” Jungkook scratches the back of his head, not wanting to reiterate the fiasco between Doyeon moments before.
Namjoon smirks at the ebony-haired man, “Couple things?”
You can’t take this needless small talk anymore. With a teary groan, you throw yourself at Namjoon. You hug him tight, and you don’t even care when you feel a slosh of his water bottle sprinkle your hairstyle.
“Joonie,” you bemoan, “please, please don’t leave me. You’re the best not-cousin ever. I know it’ll be a pain to face Doyeon after today but you’re a strong independent man and when you’re ready Jin is single and ready to mingle—ow! Jungkook! Did you just pinch my ass?”
“Do you really think setting him up with the next cousin is the best idea right now?”
“I figured a little humor would lighten the blow,” you sulk.
“I’m sorry what—what blow?” Namjoon frowns, pushing you away from him. “Y/n, have you been crying?”
The tears resurface at that moment, like a kettle on overboil. Namjoon’s face is knitted together, unable to grasp at any conclusion. Namjoon feels something grave is upon the sky as he tenderly brushes away your tears with his thumbs before releasing you. Instantly Jungkook pulls you to his chest, patting you soothingly. As much as you two do not want to be the bearer of bad news, the time is now.
“Namjoon,” Jungkook says, finding the strength that was previously stuck in his throat, “we have to tell you something.”
Needless to say, Las Vegas is very forgiving when it comes to last minute wedding cancellations.
The whole wedding party, both Namjoon and yours, collectively feels like a whole ice bucket has been dumped upon your families. You would like to say that the whole issue was handled mess free, but that would be a bald-faced lie.
There was screaming, crying, hysterical laughter from all sides. Doyeon’s parents were of course furious, embarrassed, unable to calm down a hysterical Doyeon as they haul her on the next flight home. You have a feeling they won’t be showing up to family events anytime soon.
Namjoon’s family leaves quietly, frustrated, but classy. After all, they know at the back of their heads they dodged a bullet. Everyone leaves except Namjoon however, who isn’t quite ready to go back to his and Doyeon’s apartment. Namjoon invites Seokjin and some other close cousins to stay in his suite until their flight tomorrow afternoon, wanting to be surrounded by close friends and (almost) family.
As for your family, they decide to find the silver lining. While the chapel was able to cancel the wedding, the reception wasn’t as easy to sway. At the very last second, your grandparents decided to make use of the reception and renew their Golden Anniversary vows instead. The ceremony will be a quick, sweet affair. At this very moment, your cousin Yoongi is getting officiated online.
And for you? You’re in the place where you’ve wanted to remain all week. A fluffy hotel bed wrapped up with your not-boyfriend.
Or?
Would a not-boyfriend be snuggling against your chest like you’re the softest teddy bear in the toy shop? Would a not-boyfriend be hooking your leg atop his lap, forcing you to latch onto him so his hands can roam freely against your soft thighs?
“We have to get ready for the wedding,” you whine against his hold, to no avail when he only holds you tighter.
“But your grandparents are already married,” Jungkook whines right back, nuzzling his nose in your head. “This is like an afterparty fifty years later.”
“I wanna get dressed,” you insist, pushing yourself up, “and we still need to talk.”
Without Seokjin staying with you, the hotel room feels much bigger and freer for the two of you. Your clothes are scattered on the floor, uncaring of any wrinkles or smears that would get on the delicate fabric.
All that matters is that Jungkook is still here with you. Doyeon’s wedding is called off, but he’s still lying in bed with you. You want to burn this image to memory, and keep it forever. Jungkook laying in only his white undershirt and boxers, looking at you dreamily as if he’s still in nap-mode. Hair that was previously windswept and exposing his forehead is now out of place, fluffy and sticking out in all directions. His cheeks are flushed with coral-colored warmth, and a little puffy because you two have been sleeping most of the afternoon.
“Right, talk,” he repeats, letting you hand him his black button up so he can clothe himself.
You throw off your shirt somewhere behind you, not wanting to face him as you walk to the full-length mirror. “So, I think my feelings for you are pretty clear and out in the open…”
“Same, I think I made it pretty clear as well.”
“What? You turn around, looking at where he’s still half-covered in bed. “You did not. I distinctly remember almost confessing my love to you last night. And then this morning, only for you to cut me off and say ‘that’s great’.”
“Oh,” he stares at the white sheets that cover his lower half. “I guess I didn’t then.”
You smile wryly, turning back to face the mirror so you can slip into your dress that’s been pooled around your ankles like a silver halo. “Maybe you thought it in your mind and forgot to tell me.”
That seems about right. Jungkook has a tendency to be a little too passionate for his own good, windswept in thoughts and feelings until they consume him. He hops out of bed, walking only in his dress shirt and socks as he makes his way to the mirror. “Then let me do all the talking,” he says softly against your neck, hands on your hips.
You shiver when you feel the cold silver of the zipper whirr up your body, Jungkook’s large hands splaying across your back to smooth out the waistline.
“You of all people would know that being with Doyeon is a trip,” he chuckles into the crook of your neck, “I thought that was what love felt like. Being codependent, jumping through hurdles, trying so hard to please someone who can’t be pleased.”
Jungkook’s hands wrap around your waist, hugging you tightly. He squeezes you and holds you like the most precious thing in the entire world. Through the mirror, you two are quite a pair.
“But with you, I never knew love could be like this, feel like this.”
“So… are you saying you love me?” you fight the urge to bounce around in his grip, the biggest smile on your face.
“You really just want me to say ‘I love you’ and be done with it, huh?”
Within seconds he’s pulling you from behind, whirling you around to the edge of the bed. He manages to flouce up your skirts to billow around his lap, sitting you down on his bare thighs.
“You look like a cupcake, all sprawled up like this,” Jungkook says cutely, peppering kisses in a trail from your chest all the way to your lips. “You look like a huge, silvery cupcake and I love you. It’s so easy to love you.”
Maybe it was kismet that Jungkook didn’t get to you first all those years ago. Maybe the right time is right here, right now.
“I love you, too,” you say happily, dipping down to press a long, passionate kiss to his lips. He tastes like love and a happy future. When you pull away, you encapsulate his face in both your palms, regarding him like the sun and stars. “But you know, if we date you’ll never get away from my crazy family.”
Jungkook snorts, pressing his forehead to yours, “And miss Yoongi re-marrying off your grandparents tonight, the next year of Seokjin and Namjoon running circles around each other, and a lifetime of happiness?” his hands snake under your dress, finding purchase in your soft skin, “not a chance.”
#jungkook x reader#gcn23#goldenclosetnet#btsghostie#kwritersworldnet#jungkook fic#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#bts fic#bts fanfic#bts fluff#bts angst
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Here Comes the Sun: XVIII. Seven Nation Army (Daryl Dixon/Reader)
Series Masterlist: Here Comes the Sun
Summary: Daryl Dixon scares the hell out of you climbing out of that damn creek. It takes hauling his ass halfway across Georgia and taking a bullet for him to realise that you're not half bad. He slowly starts to come around, despite grumbling about how much he doesn't like your singing, or that you can't use a gun for shit - and don't get him started on that ugly yellow tent of yours. It takes him a while before he starts to see for himself that he's found a best friend for life, and that he doesn't actually mind the colour yellow that much, after all.
Words: 6040
Chapter Warnings: Language, Not full-on nsfw but QUITE SPICY, Some canon divergence.
"You're good with 'er." Daryl said, like the words had just slipped from his mouth without him realising.
You held Judy in your arms, cradling her against your chest as she looked up at you with wide, innocent eyes. Daryl seemed equally as mesmerised by the baby, as he stroked his thumb over her supple cheek and watched her give him a gummy smile in return.
You glanced over at the man, leaning against him where he stood. "So are you." You told him, but he shook his head in response.
"Nah I ain't." He muttered, his gaze still resting over Judith like she was the most precious thing in the world.
You hummed back, not wanting to break the moment you were having by arguing with him. You wished that things would stay like this forever - that Judith wouldn't cry, and the governor would never come, or that Daryl would not have to leave.
"Where are you going?" You asked the man, as he took a few steps away.
He held up a hand, gesturing for you to wait, and offered a warm smile to reassure you of his return.
"Jus' gimme a minute." He mumbled, walking towards your shared cell.
You raised your eyebrow, watching him disappear behind the bars, before turning your attention back to Judy. You thought that she had Lori's eyes, as they stared up at you in childlike wonder. You continued humming your song to her, now that the man was out of earshot and wouldn't tease you as you sang it. Daryl had suggested sticking the walkman headphones on her every time she cried, but Carol had scolded him for even thinking of the idea. You giggled, remembering the exchange, and how you just watched the two of them get along like old friends whilst you sat in the corner bouncing Judith over your lap.
Daryl came back not even a few minutes later, dragging his rucksack over the floor. He didn't have many possessions to begin with, so you cocked your head in his direction - confused about what could possibly be in there. He returned to your side, resting his arm around your shoulder as he hovered over it to make a face at Judith. You giggled, wondering what the others would say if they had the pleasure of seeing Daryl like this. Though, at the same time, you almost wanted to be completely selfish and not share that side of him with anyone.
You watched as the man fumbled around in the backpack for a bit, before pulling out a familiar, child-size sheriff's hat that couldn't possibly fit on his head. He grinned at you, taking in the way your eyes lit up in response.
"Said we'd give it to lil' asskicker, didn't we?" He teased, before placing the hat gently over the baby's head.
The sight made you want to melt. Daryl began to call Rick over to see, but you slapped his chest and hushed him before he did, wanting to enjoy the moment for yourselves just a little while longer. Daryl narrowed his eyes at you, but his expression soon softened as he noticed the way you stared down at Judith, who was staring right back. You felt like you were holding the future in your arms - and that future wore a sheriff's hat and went by the name of Judith Grimes. What you wouldn't give for a camera; you wanted so desperately to take a photo of her with her brother, and gift a copy to Rick as a surprise.
Daryl had his hand resting over the small of your back. It had hovered there at first, uneasy as usual, but it seemed like he'd forgotten his shyness for a brief moment as he watched the pair of you. You felt like a makeshift, adoptive family, and you wouldn't want it any other way. The hat started to slip down Judith's head, still too big for her yet, and Daryl tipped it back up gently with his knuckle. It was like an impromptu version of peek-a-boo. Everytime the hat fell and covered her face, Daryl would prop it back into position and the baby would smile. You weren't sure you could take it anymore; the entire exchange felt too adorable to keep from the rest of the group any longer.
Just as you were about to call for them, Judy grabbed onto Daryl's finger with her entire fist - which still wasn't able to close all the way around it. You laughed softly at the man's expression, as he stayed perfectly motionless in fear of making her let go.
"I think she likes her uncle Daryl." You whispered, and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek in your attempt to unstick the frozen statue.
To that, you could see a faint blush spread over his skin, but this time you decided not to tease him about it.
The two of you made your way to the communal area after a few more minutes, and the others quickly gathered around to get a look at Judith before they left. It was a nice break from the tension in the atmosphere, and it helped you forget, too. Rick gave his daughter a kiss and headed outside to test the vehicle they'd be driving.
Soon, the meeting with the governor would be taking place. Andrea had set it up, like she'd promised, and so Rick, Daryl and Hershel would be heading out under the guise of diplomacy. However, you couldn't say for sure that you believed in the plan very much. As you'd all established before, the governor just didn't seem like the type of man who'd let both sides co-exist peacefully.
Carl had taken his sister from you at some point, and you watched as he compared their hats and made Carol laugh with his antics. Behind you, the Greenes were bidding goodbye to their father and reminding him to be careful, and Daryl approached you under the amused eye of Merle.
"Rick says it's time to go." He told you, affirming the words you'd been dreading to hear.
You put on your best, bravest face and shot him a smile that only faltered a little. He caught it, though - he always did. He pulled you into a hug, and you leant your forehead against his chest, feeling his heartbeat there.
"Be safe." You murmured against him. "Come home this time or I'll kill you myself."
The man chuckled, which you felt rumble through his torso. You looked up at him with a playful smile and he caught your lips, giving you a quick kiss there when he thought no one was looking. In moments like these, it was refreshing to get a glimpse of the old, shy Daryl - never wanting to be in the spotlight. You nudged him gently with your elbow, sending him on his way with a teasing ruffle of his hair. Perhaps you were being too nonchalant about the situation, but you didn't want to dwell on it - or you'd become a crumbling mess like the last time.
You stood next to Beth as the rest of the group filtered out, and the others returned back to whatever they'd been doing before. The girl smiled at you, watching the way your eyes followed Daryl's back as he left the cell block.
"I'll never get used to that." She said quietly, looking between the two of you.
You thought that she'd perhaps seen the exchange take place, but you couldn't really say that you minded.
"Me neither." You confessed, and Beth giggled in response.
You remembered the jokes you'd shared with her, back at the farmhouse. You'd made a promise to talk to her about boys whenever she was sad, and let her laugh at your misfortune in return. Yet, things hadn't exactly played out like that. Daryl was a world away from those bad experiences you'd once recounted to her, but you somehow seemed even more nervous to talk about him in their place. Perhaps it was because you wanted to keep the man all to yourself, just like earlier - as though the very act of speaking about him would disclose some kind of secret you weren't willing to share. Daryl Dixon was yours, but you felt almost too shy to admit it.
"I used to think that Daryl would be the last man standing." Beth confessed, startling you. "Out of all of us."
You nodded back, letting her words sink in.
"I can see why. He's like a one-man army." You replied with a smirk, thinking back on all the times he had proved himself so.
Though Beth shook her head, seeming to almost disagree with herself. You stayed silent, awaiting her response.
"But I don't think that anymore." She told you, like she was completely certain of herself. "It'll probably be you."
Immediately, you raised an eyebrow, wondering if you'd misheard her. Beth's expression didn't change, so you let out a snort in disbelief - amused by the seriousness of it all.
"Me?" You repeated, looking over at her like she'd gone mad. "Why's that?"
The youngest Greene bit her lip, as if deliberating whether to tell you her next words. Eventually, she gave you a light-hearted smile, as though having finally decided to reveal a secret.
"Because there's no way Daryl would let you go down before he did."
You spent the majority of your time waiting in your cell, trying to keep yourself busy by cleaning it up. Daryl had hauled his mattress into the room, and the two of you had abandoned the bunk frame in favour of pushing the two beds together on the floor - creating a makeshift double. You'd also stolen an extra sheet from the laundry room and hung it over your doorway for some privacy. It was still a far cry from the decor of Hershel's farmhouse, but it was starting to feel more comfortable nonetheless. Daryl had given you some thin rope from his rucksack, too, so you'd been able to replace the fraying string from which your polaroids had been strung up. It still wasn't a home yet, but it could be.
The last few days had been tense, so you couldn't blame yourself for slumping down onto the mattress and staring up into a starless, stone sky for a while. You followed the cracks on the ceiling like you were trying to create patterns there, and eventually you felt your eyelids grow heavy as sleep overcame you easier than it had done for as long as you could remember.
When you woke up, the room was dimmer than it had been before, and you thought that it had to be late evening. You'd roused to the sound of footsteps approaching, echoing over the catwalk as though the person wore thick, heavy boots. You smiled to yourself, instantly recognising who they belonged to. The metal doorway squeaked open, and some light filtered in as Daryl lifted the sheet hanging there, letting it fall back down behind him as he entered. You greeted him, but he was wordless in response. He shrugged his leather vest off and let it fall to the floor, not even bothering to place it anywhere.
You raised an eyebrow at the man, debating whether to scold him for making the cell messy when you'd spent your whole day trying to make it nice for him when he got back. Yet, you took one glance at Daryl's face and decided against it. The man looked exhausted. Probably not physically, you realised, but definitely mentally. He seemed to have a permanent scowl tacked onto him, and you could make out the frown lines over his forehead even in the poor lighting. So, you said nothing when the man tugged off his boots and flung them at the wall - where they fell with a thud into a pile.
Sitting up on the mattress, you plumped your pillow against your back and rubbed your eyes. You could almost feel the stress radiating off Daryl as he paced back and forth, so you patted the spot beside you and pulled back the covers to invite him in. He eyed you for a second, as if considering the offer, before taking a seat there. Though, he didn't allow himself to lay down or make himself comfortable, and instead stayed sat over the edge of the mattress with his back to you. Slowly, you crawled over to him, before perching on your knees and resting your head on his shoulder.
"How'd it go?" You whispered, but knew you could probably guess the answer.
Daryl's back was tense; you could feel it. Tentatively, you began to knead your fingers over it, trying to work out the knots in his muscles. Instead of flinching like he usually did, you felt the man relax into you as you pressed your knuckles along his spine.
He growled, but the sound became lost in his throat as you rubbed along his shoulder blades. "It ain't gonna work out." He muttered, eyes closed as he said it.
You hummed in response, more preoccupied with the sounds the man was letting out than his words. It reminded you of being back at the farm, and those days where he'd try to relieve the tension built up in your stiff arms and neck from learning how to shoot.
"Why?" You asked, feeling the deep breath he took underneath your palms.
"Jus' ain't." He replied, but his voice came out strained.
You ran your thumbs down his spine in tandem, all the way from the top of his neck to his lower back, and you felt him shiver slightly under your touch.
"Okay then." You said, like it was the simplest thing in the world.
Daryl opened his eyes and glanced back at you.
"Tha's it?" He questioned, like he'd expected something more from your response.
You hummed back, returning to pressing over his shoulder blades. Though, the man turned around this time, bringing his legs onto the mattress as he looked over at you.
"I trust you. And I trust Rick." You explained, meeting his questioning eyes. "Whatever we have to do, we'll do."
Daryl frowned, and looked at you like you didn't understand in the slightest. You did, but you didn't want to burden him any more than you had to.
"We gotta gear up for war." He told you, narrowing his eyes like he was trying to convince you of his words - or wait for them to sink in.
You nodded at him, reaffirming that you understood.
"Then we better start loading our guns."
Daryl seemed to break at your words, shaking his head like you'd answered him in the way he'd least wanted. This time you didn't understand, and ran your thumb over the back of his hand to try and coax out an explanation. The man sighed, and took your fingers in his palm as he pressed a kiss over the tips of them.
"Don' wan' ya to have to fight." He admitted quietly, but knew he didn't have a choice.
You shuffled forward a little, so that you were almost sitting in between the man's thighs. His head was low, and he couldn't quite meet your eyes until you spoke.
"That's not up to you to decide." You said, but did so as gently as you could. "It's not like lil' asskicker can hold a rifle yet."
His eyes flickered slightly at the mention of Judith, and you understood that completely. He realised that as much as he wanted to keep you safe, there were now other people who needed his protection more.
"I'm not worried." You reassured him, and pressed both of his cheeks under your palms until he pulled a face that made you laugh.
"I'll be fine because you're here." You told the man, and watched as his expression seemed a little lighter than it had done. "And you're all that I need."
He pulled you into his chest and fell back against the mattress with you in his arms, and you giggled as your noses pressed together. You moved your knees so that they rested either side of his hips, not wanting to crush the man as he squeezed you tight against him.
"What I do to deserve ya?" He mumbled into your hair, and it tickled your ear.
You sat upright, so that you were looking down at him and watching as your hair trailed over his cheeks.
"Hmm, I don't know." You said with a grin. "Bribe me with pretty flowers and music players?"
He smiled back softly, and took the ends of your hair between his fingers, playing with them where he lay. You felt a bit exposed, practically sitting on the man's torso and straddling him as he just stayed perfectly still, content beneath you. For once, you felt like the shy one, as he rubbed over your thigh with his hand - tracing shapes over your jeans. You thought about his question once more, and decided that he deserved a serious answer, too.
"When I first saw you trying to haul yourself up that cliff, you gave me a purpose." You admitted smally, catching his attention like you hadn't even realised you'd lost it. "I think that's reason enough."
Daryl let the small wisps of your hair fall from his fingers as he looked up, focusing on you completely.
"A purpose?" He asked, like the word was foreign on his tongue.
You nodded, trailing your fingers over his chest absentmindedly.
"Even if it was just to get you back to your camp at first." You mumbled, almost like you were talking to yourself as you voiced your innermost thoughts. "Before that, I was just living day to day."
You smiled at the memory, thinking that it was perhaps your favourite one. You'd felt so young back then, but at the same time so old. The world had really had its way with you before you'd stumbled upon Daryl and his group. You might have only been in your mid-twenties, but those few months after the collapse had aged you more than you cared to admit. It wasn't until you met Daryl that you remembered how it felt to be young again.
"One of the first things you asked me back then was why I helped you." You recalled, letting your nails lightly run across his chest, sliding upwards to the exposed skin of his neck.
He stayed silent, like putty in your hands as you spoke.
"I remember finding it a really hard question to answer." You whispered softly, like you were revealing a secret to him. "I ended up saying that I only wanted the chance to be a good person."
Daryl's skin was warm as you ran your thumb along his jawline, surprised at how docile he'd become under your touch.
"But I think that was a lie." You smiled, and the words felt almost devious to admit. "I'd forgotten what it was to even be a person before I met you."
You leant down to press a kiss to his lips, and pulled away before he could kiss you back.
"Thank you for reminding me, Daryl."
You looked down at the man sweetly, like you'd just poured out your entire heart to him. And, he decided to give you his in return.
Suddenly your world spun like clothes in a washing machine as the man flipped your positions, and you snorted rather unflatteringly as your back hit the mattress. Your legs were still wrapped around his waist, but now he kneeled between them - with your thighs either side. Your laughs soon trailed off as you noticed Daryl's expression, and you suddenly became quiet without having even realised it.
He leant down to capture your lips, but pulled away before you could deepen the kiss - just as you had done.
"Ya can't just go sayin' shit like that an' expect me not to do nothin'." He growled near your ear, and you quickly realised how dangerous your situation had gotten.
You looped your hands around his neck and pulled him back down, threading your fingers through his hair and letting your nails drag along his scalp. He rested one of his palms over the mattress as he hovered above you, but the other one came to your cheek as your lips met again. You could distinguish Daryl's kisses so easily by now; you knew the soft morning ones from the emotional ones with trembling lips, or the teasing pecks that made you laugh - and that's why you could easily tell that this one was needy.
He bit your bottom lip between his teeth and you immediately whimpered against him, feeling your head spin at how fast everything happened. You'd gone from the washing machine to the dryer without even realising it, and you felt yourself get equally as hot and disorientated.
"Daryl-" you mumbled against his lips, hooking your ankles together around the back of his torso.
He moaned in response but said nothing, letting his thumb trail from your cheek to your neck, where he rested it over your quickly beating pulse. You had your palms pressed flat against his chest, rubbing over the area and feeling the warmth radiate from him. You wanted to take the shirt off, and feel his skin over yours, but you were too preoccupied by his lips on you to do so. He kissed you with more pressure, and you whimpered again as you felt yourself becoming more lost to his touches. You'd thought that Daryl Dixon was a shy man, but recently he seemed adamant to prove you wrong
You unintentionally squeezed your thighs tighter around him, as you felt your head being pushed back further into the mattress. Your jeans rubbed against his uncomfortably, and you felt the buttons dig into your hips and chafe your skin every time you moved. You pulled away for a brief second to catch your breath, and took in the dangerous sight of Daryl Dixon.
You realised that perhaps you'd made a mistake - when you looked at him, that is. His lips were swollen a blush red, and his pupils were blown as he watched you, watching him. You looked away first, feeling shy under his gaze. You wondered how this had happened - when it had happened. You hadn't thought of yourself as the nervous one, but you were made nervous for him.
Without meeting his eyes, you tugged at the hemline of his shirt - making it clear what you wanted. He kissed your forehead gently, and you almost got whiplash from how quickly the man could switch from giving you deep, intense kisses to leaving sweet pecks over your skin like he was afraid you might break. He moved back from you, sitting up so that he was kneeling in between your legs, and pulled off his shirt without you having to ask.
You bit your lip, taking in the sight of his barreled chest and toned muscles as he threw the shirt over his shoulder for it to get lost somewhere in the sheets. You didn't get too stare long, because he was back on top of you in an instant - almost like he'd never left. Though, you didn't mind much, because now you could feel the warmth of his skin pressed against your own chest. Softly, you gasped just from the intensity of it, but Daryl quickly caught your lips and silenced it. You ran your hands up his back, feeling the ridges of scars and the contours of his muscles as he held himself up. You allowed your nails to dig into him slightly, enjoying the way he moaned against you as you did.
Even inside the walls of a prison, Daryl's voice sounded so good up against your ear, as he left your abused lips to focus his attention on your neck, instead. You immediately turned your head to the side in response, feeling your cheek press into the pillow and muffle any noises you made there. You tried to stay quiet, but it seemed like Daryl was intentionally out to make you fail. His tongue ran along your neck and you scratched him particularly hard on his back, stuttering out an apology as you removed your hands and clenched the sheets instead.
It didn't seem to bother the man, however, as he continued to work his way down until his teeth grazed over your collarbone and made you cry out. You quickly shot him a warning look, and he glanced up at you for a brief second before he did it again. It felt utterly euphoric, so you moaned under him unintentionally before you felt him chuckle against your skin.
You would have scolded him, or pulled a face, but your words felt so far away that you doubted you'd be able to form a complete sentence even if you tried. One of Daryl's hands had wandered to your waist, and then dipped lower to your hip. His thumb ran over the bone there, and it sent shivers through you as he gripped your skin tighter. You ran your palms over his bare chest in response, still not entirely used to the feeling. He stopped what he was doing, probably leaving some marks over you without you noticing, and ran his finger along the oval collar of your vest.
"Take it off." He mumbled, his lips still pressed against the skin just above it.
A whine left your mouth before you'd even realised it, and you didn't think Daryl Dixon even knew how he sounded right now. He pulled back to look at you, cheeks all flushed and eyes glossy where you lay beneath him, and you nodded.
He helped you shrug the vest over your head, and left it lying next to you on the pillow. You turned away from his eyes almost instantly, feeling more exposed than you had in a while. He had trusted you, and you wanted to be able to give him your trust in return. Yet, you couldn't help but feel shy under a gaze that intense. You reached your arms over your chest, like you were trying to shelter yourself from the cold - despite being incredibly hot.
The man narrowed his eyes at you, not happy with your decision in the slightest. He leant down so that his lips hovered just above your stomach, and you expected him to place a kiss there in hopes of coaxing your arms away. Except, he didn't. He blew a raspberry against your skin and you all but screamed as you wriggled beneath him, and flung your hands out to push him away.
"Stop!" You yelled, but it had come out strained between a mixture of giggles.
You felt the man smile against your stomach as you panted deeply, in utter disbelief about what he'd just done. Your arms rested either side of you, hands tangled in the sheets just like he'd planned, but you weren't happy at the cost you'd had to pay. You glanced down, ready to chide him, but stopped when you noticed how quiet he'd gotten.
Daryl's eyes were fixated on your waist, and he ran his thumb gently over the small scar there - as though afraid to press too hard and hurt you. Your eyes softened when you saw his expression, and the way he chewed his lip between his teeth. You knew that guilty look from a mile away, and you wouldn't let him wear it any longer.
"Don't." You said into the silence, lifting his hand away from the little indentation there.
You brought his knuckles to your lips and left kisses over them, offering him one of your best smiles in hopes of coaxing one out of him in return.
"It was worth it." You told him. "I'd take another bullet for you if I had to."
Daryl let his forehead drop against your hip, like he was completely exasperated by the response, and muttered something below his breath.
"Why's everythin' that comes outta yer mouth so damn sweet?"
He crawled back up the bed and kissed your lips as if to prove his point, and you moaned against him - having missed the feeling. You were chest to chest, skin pressed fully against each other as you arched your back to try and get even closer. Your fingers trailed lightly over his arms, and you could almost make out the rhythm of his heartbeat as your chests heaved together in time. He reached a hand down to the button of your jeans, and pulled away from the kiss to wait for your response.
Nervously, you glanced over towards the entranceway of your cell, only covered by a thin sheet draped there.
"What if someone hears?" You whispered, suddenly aware of how loud you'd perhaps been beforehand.
Daryl dotted some light kisses over your neck, trailing them down as he spoke between each one he gave.
"Don' care." He mumbled, reaching your sternum.
"Don' care if Rick comes to tell us Randall's gone walk about." He said, and tickled your stomach with his lips.
"Don' care if Carol knocks to say the governor's here with an army an' wants his fuckin' walkman back."
He got to your hip, and this time noticed the tattoo that just about peeked out over the top of your jeans. He raised an eyebrow, and you smiled sheepishly in response.
"Don' wanna wait anymore." He said softly, and neither did you.
He sat up and rested his palms either side of you, looking down at your face with the most affection you'd seen from him yet.
"Okay, then." You whispered back, and interlocked your fingers with his. "I'm yours."
You woke up to warm, morning light streaming in through the pale curtain of your cell, and landing on your cheek. Your eyelids fluttered, and it took you a few seconds to adjust to the brightness - feeling the tears well up as you did. You hummed into Daryl's chest, lying over it with your palm resting there. You'd slept so well, but you'd woken up even better.
His bare skin was warm against yours, so much so that you didn't feel the need to pull the sheets up higher to cover you. You rubbed at your eyes, finally opening them to notice that the man was already awake. You'd been tucked in the crook of his neck, your head just over his shoulder, but he'd been looking down at you as you roused from sleep. Shyly, you smiled at him, and hid your face back into his skin. You felt his laugh rumble there, low and groggy.
"You been up long?" You asked, the words coming out thick as you said them.
You felt him shake his head, but weren't too sure if he was telling the truth. His arm rested over your waist, and you had only just become aware of the weight of it as he rubbed his thumb over your hip beneath the covers.
"What is it?" He murmured. "Didn't ask ya 'bout it las' night."
It took you a few seconds to realise what he meant. You shrugged back the sheet, looking at the part of your body he was referring to.
"I think you were a little preoccupied." You teased, and he pinched your skin there in response.
The ink stood out strongly against your paleness, dotted over your lower hip so that it was concealed even when you wore low-rise jeans. You recalled that night back at the Greene farm, where you all shared secrets over the campfire and the group had seemed surprised to discover that you had a tattoo. Nobody else had ever seen it; Daryl was the first.
"It's a rune." You told him, feeling his calloused fingers trace over the lines so carefully. "They were one of the things I studied before all this."
A small blush worked its way onto your cheeks, as you suddenly felt embarrassed under the man's intense gaze.
"Looks like an arrow." He noted, inspecting it closer.
You hummed in response, not having thought of it that way before.
"I guess it does, doesn't it?" You chuckled, thinking how appropriate it was for the archer to have been the one to notice.
"It's the symbol of the Norse god Týr." You explained, and he watched you talk passionately without interrupting. "Have you ever heard of the story of Sigurd?"
Daryl shook his head with a small smile, already knowing that you were going to tell him no matter how he answered.
"In the sagas, he slays the dragon Fáfnir and carves the runes of Týr into his sword." You said, excitedly. "They're meant to be the sign of a warrior. To ensure certain victory."
Daryl seemed perfectly content, gazing down at you as you spoke with so much life in your voice. It reminded you of that first night where you shared a bed together in the Greene's spare room. Even then, having barely known you more than a day, the man allowed you to ramble whilst he listened in silence. He'd made out like he was ignoring you, but every small detail you'd given during those early morning hours he'd seemed to recall - even a few weeks later. But now, you thought it was slightly different. He made no attempt to pretend like he wasn't interested in your stories, or that you talked too much for him to stand. He looked at you like your words were law, but he'd somehow ended up in a prison anyway.
"Tha' why ya weren't scared 'bout facing the governor?" He teased, once you'd finished your brief lesson. "Certain victory?"
You snorted, having only just realised the irony of it all.
"No." You admitted, slapping his chest lightly as you laughed.
Maybe it was the rune, but it was more likely the one-man army at your side who assured you of that victory.
"I think this tattoo would be much more suited to you than it is me." You confessed, tracing its shape over the back of his hand.
He watched you make your invisible markings, and remained wordless as you did so.
"I got it just after I started teaching. To remind myself to be brave." You told him, and this time he was the one to laugh.
"So teachin' students was as hard as slayin' a dragon?" He questioned, and you could practically hear the smirk through his voice.
You raised your head from his chest to look at him in mock offense.
"If I had a student like you, then maybe." You teased, and the man grabbed the sheets and bundled you up in them tightly as you struggled against him.
The two of you lay there for a while, not quite yet ready to face the day. You knew the inevitable would be coming soon, and you wished you could just pause this moment as easily as you paused the songs on your walkman - immortalising it in an old, labelled cassette.
"A lot of the time I don't feel very brave, but I've decided to trust it more recently." You mumbled, feeling the edges of sleep start to return.
Daryl questioned you, before realising that you had carried on with the earlier conversation - seemingly by yourself. You felt him trace over your hip again, but your eyelids were too heavy to look at him.
"There anythin' ya don't know?" He grumbled, but it was too playful to be considered so. "Yer too smart for yer own good, Sunshine."
You hummed against his chest, wanting nothing more than for the morning hours to drag along slower, and for the night that followed to stand still.
"I could tell you stories of dragons and knights, and speak to you in languages that have long since faded away." You told the man, but it came out half-hearted and muffled against his skin.
"But there are still many things I don't know, Dixon." You admitted. "Like what I did to deserve you, too."
A/N *mic drop* Ok but for real, who let me have alcohol whilst writing this??? Tipsy me gets WAY TOO SPICY WAY TOO QUICK- The chapter plan had way more in it, but I accidentally threw the plot out the window because I got preoccupied *cough*...
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Top 10 favorite characters in tgcf
OMG OMG MY FIRST ASK 🥺
also can you believe it, it wasnt too long ago that you shared the tgcf carrd to me and now i’m in this too deep???? Thank you for that again btw (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)
It’s 6am from where I am but every time is a perfect time to talk about TGCF. Here we go!
1. Xie Lian
I could write a sonata with how much I love this boy. He’s not perfect and that’s what amazing about him, all the misfortunes, torture and disasters that happened to him should’ve turned him into a calamity but he’s just that GOOD and his character now is a perfect mix of all the goodness of the world and a little dash of attitude, enough for him not to take bullshit from anyone (like he gonna risk his life for you but also not shy to smack qi rong around you know?) GAAHHH I LOVE HIM
2. Hua Cheng
HAVE YOU SEEN THE DUDE? Nah jk because even if he looks like rags, his complete devotion to XL (i’m in love with mxtx because of how she wrote HC), is an absolute fairytale. Despite his overprotectiveness he doesnt lose his absolute respect for XL’s decisions, he just cold sweats as he watches him make the most dangerous decisions humanly possible (SWALLOW A SWORD? REALLY???), its pure love, he is pure love
3. Yushi Huang
SHE’S JUST A POWER CHARACTER!!! She was introduced the latter part of the book but the moment she appeared and everything clicked together, like how she helped XL with Yong ‘an and how she keeps saving the whole circus that is the upper court and the princess who slit her throat???? PURE BADASSERY. I love how she’s so subtle yet so essential especially how even Jun Wu wasn’t able to do anything to her
4. Mu Qing
he’s got that attitude that would make you hate him but he’s just emotionally constipated, it can be seen in the novel how he truly cares for both FX and XL and that’s endearing for me (i wanna be your f-f-friend! 😞 ) also I’m a sucker for pretty boys??? Mu Qing's design in the manhua is *chef’s kiss*
5. Feng Xin
Because he’s the perfect sidekick, he’s loyal and he’s gonna laugh at your stupid jokes and most importantly, he’s got his principles straight, when he promises he come through and he knows his duties and i love that about him
6. Quan Yizhen
this fluffy child deserves all the love!!! he’s been misunderstood before he even ascended and he didn’t even do anything wrong!!! It’s way he seeks out his shixiong despite rejection and the subtle admiration he has for XL (yes everything abt my fave characters is how they are to XL) He’s just a pure child I wanna protecc
7. He Xuan
yeah he killed Shi Wudu but meh kinda deserved? If one goes through the things he did, isnt it understandable, besides its not as if he’s like White Clothed Calamity, killing off and traumatizing centuries of people, he was just getting his revenge, plus I’m loving that he seems to be the closest thing HC has to a friend (HE PUNCHED HIM TO THE GROUND I CANT WITH THEM T_T)
8. Pei Ming
I talked about him in my previous post, about him ending the novel with the most improved image and how he is a misogynistic son of a btch BUT he is honest and genuine and even HC acknowledges that he isn’t a shady man. Also one of Hualian’s earliest supporters
9. Shi Qingxuan
i mean duh??? purest boy ever, I feel like he’s the one that made XL experience true friendship yk? like FengQing are more like retainers, HC is a devoted believer, SQX is a mutual friendship like, he does things for XL (who can forget how he defended XL’s purity infront of the whole upper court?? he failed but still!) XL does things for him and them together is just the best friendship ever???
10. Ruoye/ E-Ming
they’re characters right?? Idk why I picked them over other characters but I find them adorable when they show emotions to their owners, like ruoye nuzzling XL or with e-ming rebelling against HC, trembling with excitement at the sight of XL, they’re amazing little weapons uwu
*look at lil ruoye dancing like a snake 😭
There you have it! I wasnt asked for the reason but I went ahead and rambled because that’s me as a person also because I’m in LOVE with MXTX for creating an amazing set of characters, making them all out to have flaws and grave mistakes yet incredibly loveable at the same time. IT WAS SO HARD TO CHOOSE!! 😭
Anyway, I enjoyed answering this ask so thank youuu ❤️
#tgcf#xie lian#hua cheng#hualian#tgcf spoilers#tian guan ci fu#had way too much fun answering this#heaven official’s blessing#mxtx#pei ming#yushi huang#ruoye#fengqing#feng xin#mu qing#shi qingxuan#he xuan
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Have I Known You 20 Seconds or 20 Years? – Nikolai Lantsov Series
Chapter 1: Devils Roll the Dice, Angels Roll their Eyes
https://archiveofourown.org/works/33661984/chapters/83654680
A very short summary: Y/N has been working with the crows for a few years. Her life feels complete until she meets the insufferable Nikolai Lantsov. She finds herself forced to work with the King of Ravka on one of Kaz Brekker's crazy schemes.
Nikolai Lantsov. King of Ravka. He was privateer extraordinaire Sturmhond?
Word count: 2k
A/N: So I wrote my first fic! Hopefully at least one person likes it! I just posted the first chapter today. The second one should follow somewhat soon ☺️I’m currently writing the third chapter!
Chapter 1: Devils Roll the Dice, Angels Roll their Eyes
Nikolai Lantsov. King of Ravka. He was privateer extraordinaire Sturmhond?
Y/N couldn’t quite believe it. She had been a fan of him for years. Asking for the latest news on the voyages of the Volkvolny and its captain every chance she got. They were legendary. When Kaz had told her a few days prior that Sturmhond was going to be with them for a job she had barely been able to contain her excitement. Now, she was mortified. How could she work with a king?
Had she not been standing next to Kaz during the meeting she’d never have believed it.
“How long have you known, Kaz? I mean, I know you’ve worked with him before but…” her voice trailed off in a question.
“I figured it out when we first met.” His mind traveled back to that day. Meeting the privateer by the Geldrenner hotel’s baths, just a few years ago. They had been trying to save Kuwei Yul-Bo, a Shu inferni who’d had the misfortune of being the son of the fabrikator who created Jurda Parem, making him the most valuable hostage in the world. They had auctioned him off, faked his death, and gotten revenge on Jan Van Eck all at the same time. “The king of Ravka wouldn’t just let anyone represent his country in important matters. The fact that he always travels with at least one member of the Triumvirate doesn’t help him keep his identity secret either.” He scoffed. “He really should stop doing that.” Kaz sounded almost… annoyed?
“I take it you’ve given him that particular piece of advice and he didn’t listen?” She smirked. “Though, you know, I’m glad Zoya Nazyalenski tagged along. She is even more gorgeous than I thought.”
“He never listens. Almost as stubborn as you.” He huffed. The glare he gave her would’ve been enough to scare most people, however, she was not most people. She considered Kaz family, and she knew that Kaz did too, in his own way. They had both lost siblings to the city after all. She had joined his crew a few months after they had lost Matthias and Nina had gone back to Ravka. He had needed a new corporalnik and she had made fast friends with Inej, Jesper, and Wylan. As much as Kaz had tried to keep the young tailor at arm’s length, she had found a way to worm herself into his cold guarded heart. His look softened before he continued. “You should steer clear of her. She’s just as icy as she appears. Wouldn’t want you to get your heart broken before the job.” That was his way of showing he cared.
“Don’t worry, Kaz, I’m not looking to marry her. Maybe she’d be open to a bit of fun?” She laughed, throwing her long auburn hair over her shoulder, and made her way back to Jesper and Wylan down the corridor.
---
A few days had passed since they’d met with Sturmhond. He and Zoya had temporarily moved into the slat. Kaz had been cooped up in his office, wearing his scheming face most of that time. Everyone could tell Kaz’s plan was going to involve multiple steps and deceptions.
Since they hadn’t been working any other jobs, the crows had been left to their own devices for the first time in months. Kaz occasionally called on them for their expertise, but they had a lot more downtime than they were used to. They had taken advantage of it to get to know their new teammates. Y/N had mostly struck out with Zoya, though she had managed to make her laugh a few times, to everyone’s surprise. Maybe with more time, she’d have a small chance with Zoya? The young grisha had also tried to wrap her head around the identity of her favourite privateer. She now found herself sitting in Kaz’s office, Jesper and Wylan on her right and Sturmhond and Zoya on her left. Kaz looked all business, so serious she feared he’d give himself an aneurysm.
“I need you to tailor him. Once you’re done, you’ll tailor yourself.” Kaz nodded in Sturmhond’s direction sitting behind his cluttered desk, hands resting on his crow’s head cane.
Y/N looked up at Inej who had been sitting at Kaz’s window. “May I ask why? Hasn’t he already been tailored?” She gestured to the privateer before returning her hand to her lap. “He doesn’t look like the king of Ravka.”
Kaz rolled his eyes. “Why must you always question me?” He sighed. “Yes, he has been tailored, nonetheless, he is too easily recognizable as Sturmhond. I need you both to look like rich Kaelish merchants. It shouldn’t be too hard for you?”
“Of course not. You know there’s nothing I can’t do, Brekker.” She replied in Kaelish. She softened her tone before continuing in Kerch. “I’m simply asking you to share your brilliant scheme with us mere mortals” Her voice was laced with sarcasm. Inej stifled a laugh. It looked like the Suli girl couldn’t help but smile at the other’s antics.
Kaz groaned. “Fine, I’ll share my plan for the job. It’d be easier if you just listened. I’ll explain it once so pay attention – Jesper!” Poor Jesper jumped on his chair. He’d been staring at Sturmhond since they’d all entered the office. Y/N couldn’t blame him. The privateer did have an inexplicable charm despite his tailored features.
“Yes, Boss!” Jesper straightened in his chair and sent an apologetic look to Wylan.
“Alright, to pull this one off we’ll need blueprints that can only be found in Gert Van Verent’s safe. He keeps his office under lock and key – ”
“Wait, you want us to break into a councilman’s house, again? Why can’t you do it Kaz? You’re the best at picking locks.”
“Well, if you hadn’t interrupted me” he was glaring daggers at her now, his eyes the hue of bitter coffee “you’d know that two guards are posted outside his office, at all times” he’d emphasized the last part and raised a hand to stop Y/N from interrupting him again “and his windows are protected behind steel bars.” Y/N nodded once slowly indicating she was willing to listen with no more interruptions.
“Van Verent is throwing a party in the hopes of finding his eldest daughter a husband. Being a devout Kerch merchant, he is also using the occasion to find new business ventures. The party is our window of opportunity. That-” he gestured to her and Sturmhond “is where you two come in. Ainsley and Eoin Ó Ceallaigh, newlyweds from the Wandering Isle, looking to extend your exporting business to Kerch. I already secured your invitation” Y/N felt her jaw drop. No sound came out. All she could do was stare at Kaz. He had finally lost it. He wanted her and the king of Ravka to assume false identities and pretend to be married? Dirtyhands had gone mad.
Wylan was the one who voiced her concern. “Kaz? I know Y/N’s a talented tailor and well she is Kaelish so that part’s covered but, well, um, no disrespect Sturm-, Sir? Your Highness? But, um, do you speak Kaelish?”
The king smiled. He looked amused at Wylan’s confusion. He replied in perfect unaccented Kaelish “Call me Nikolai, it will make for less confusing conversation. Of course, I speak Kaelish, I have been educated in 6 languages. I also had a fondness for Kaelish poetry in my youth.”
Everyone seemed to relax at that. However, Y/N could tell she was going to need Jesper’s help to undo the knots in her shoulders later that night. “Kaz? I don’t think I’m that great of an actress… You also haven’t told us how we’re supposed to get the plans if we do get in.”
“Don’t worry darling, I’m sure we’ll manage. I’m talented enough for the both of us” Nikolai winked at her. Nikolai, who just so happened to be the privateer she had admired for years. She felt her cheeks flush. Saints, she thought, this is going to be a nightmare.
“Jesper and Wylan have also been invited to the party thanks to Wylan’s new position on the merchant’s council.” She had never been more grateful to Kaz for overlooking the interruptions. “They’ll cause a distraction, with Nazyalenski’s help, to let you and Nikolai slip past the guards and break into Van Verent’s office.” He stopped and looked at Y/N. “I know you can pick the lock and crack the safe. I trained you myself after all.”
The discussions and planning continued well into the night. Y/N wasn’t convinced it was such a good plan, but everyone else seemed on board so she kept her mouth shut. All she could do now was make sure to memorize all she could before the job. The party was two days away, which didn’t give them much time to learn all they could about their characters. Kaz had instructed Nikolai and Y/N to spend every waking moment working together to make sure they made a believable couple.
Twelve hours in, Y/N was cursing herself for saying she wasn’t a great actress. If she’d only pretended to be confident in her acting abilities, she might have been allowed to take a break from the insufferable king. Well, insufferable might have been a little dramatic but the man loved himself way too much. They had memorized their stories in the first 8 hours and were now being quizzed by Wylan and Jesper while she started tailoring them both, yet the King would not stop flirting with her. He also made sure to touch her every chance he got. A brush of his fingers on her cheek, of his knuckles on hers, twirling a strand of her hair around his finger. She knew it was just harmless fun for him. It was driving her completely mad. She just wanted him to take the job seriously.
“How did he propose?” Wylan asked for the third time in the past two hours.
Y/N sighed and moved her fingers through Nikolai’s hair to darken it. “It was incredibly romantic. He had planned a picnic by the lake where we met.” Her cheeks were already starting to hurt from the plastered smile on her face.
“I had all of her favourite foods, of course” Nikolai interjected, moving to softly caress the girl’s cheek.
Y/N had to restrain herself from slapping his hand away. “Yes, even strawberries, in winter! Can you believe it? Once the sun began to set, he dropped to one knee and pulled the ring from the picnic basket with a bouquet of winter roses. I’m so lucky to have fallen in love with such an attentive and caring man.” She turned to Kaz who had been observing them, leaning against the doorframe, and dropped the smile from her lips. “Was that satisfactory, Boss?”
Kaz shrugged. “It’d be better if you didn’t look like you wanted to stab him every time he touches you.”
Y/N released a breath. “Maybe if you’d let me take a break...” her tone was pleading.
Kaz smiled at that. He was finally wearing her down. Giving her a taste of what she’d put him through the last two years felt like sweet justice to him. He liked the girl well enough, but she had a way of getting on his nerves. He took no pity on her. “You’ll keep going until I actually believe you are in love with him.” He left the room with a pointed look at her.
Zoya released an amused laugh. “I’m just glad Nikolai found someone else to bother for a change.” She smiled smugly at Y/N. “Don’t worry, he’s mostly harmless. Just come find me if he gets too handsy, I’ll put him in his place for you.”
Y/N couldn’t believe it. Zoya had definitely sent her a wink before following behind Kaz. Maybe all her flirting had paid off?
“Sweetheart, I’m hurt, you are taking more interest in my general than in your own handsome husband.” Nikolai’s tone was toeing the line between mock hurt and amused.
She turned back to the three men in front of her. “Jesper, please, just shoot me.”
#nikolai lantsov#nikolai lantsov x reader#nikolai lantsov x you#nikolai#king of scars#six of crows#kaz brekker#zoya nazyalensky#inej ghafa#jesper fahey#wylan van eck#my fic#ari's fic#have i known you 20 seconds or 20 years#nikolai series#leigh bardugo#grishaverse#nikolai lantsov fanfic
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Hello! I saw a post that said your prompts are open, but if they’re not yet, please don’t worry about this. Anyway, if you’re interested, please take this ‘Wen Ruohan appoints Lan Wangji his next heir with being 1) impressed by him, or 2) bested by him’ Lan Wangji is less than thrilled about this
Modern AU
“I hate this,” Wei Wuxian grumbled. “This is so dumb.”
“I don’t think you’re supposed to enjoy being kidnapped,” Jiang Cheng said, his arms crossed over his chest. He was scowling. He hadn’t stopped scowling. Nobody blamed him one bit. “It’s not like it’s something that gets advertised in travel brochures or anything.”
“Listen, if it was like in the movies, it’d be one thing,” Wei Wuxian argued back. Lan Wangji suspected he was just arguing in order to hear himself speak, but since Lan Wangji also enjoyed hearing him speak, he didn’t mind. “Getting snatched into a van! Taken to a mysterious secondary location via plane! Villain monologues! Handcuffs! Zipties! Ropes! Chains!”
Lan Wangji wondered if Wei Wuxian had a thing for bondage. He would be okay with that.
Very okay with that.
“Wei Wuxian…” Jiang Cheng started.
“But noooooo, we don’t get jungles or the ‘most dangerous game’ or sexy people in skimpy swimsuits –”
Lan Wangji had a bathing suit. It wasn’t that skimpy, though.
“- we just get kidnapped by a deranged politician who’s decided that the best way to figure out who deserves to be his heir is via a stupid reality show!”
“I think it’s based on the Apprentice,” Nie Huaisang said from where he was sitting. “Possibly the Bachelor? I actually don’t watch that much reality television.”
“You watch the Great British Bake Off like a fiend,” Jiang Cheng pointed out.
“First, Great British Bake Off doesn’t count. Second, if this was a bake-off, your sister would win, instead of not even being here. Is that what you want?”
Both Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian shuddered.
“So, we’re all in agreement that the goal is to lose, right?” Wei Wuxian said. “No one actually wants the job of being Wen Ruohan’s heir, right?”
Nods all around.
“Doesn’t he have kids already?” Jin Zixuan wondered.
“Wen Xu and Wen Chao,” Lan Wangji said shortly.
“…yeah, fair, I’d be looking elsewhere too. They’re pretty awful – dumb and dumber. But surely there’s someone else in the family…?”
“I think they’ve been disowned. Anyway, who would want power if it means putting up with Wen Ruohan?”
Nods all around a second time.
“How will this work?” Nie Huaisang asked. “Are there, like – contests?”
There were.
Stupid ones.
Lan Wangji did his utmost best to mess up the archery competition – archery? In this day and age? – but he wasn’t quite willing to turn around and wildly shoot backwards the way Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng were doing, if only because the possibility of collateral damage made him shudder. He focused his arrows on a small corner just outside the target.
(Nie Huaisang’s arrows impressively did not reach the target even once. When asked how he had managed to pull that off despite being closely monitored to make sure he was actually trying, he proudly pointed to years of practice in fucking up his brother’s efforts at getting him to train.)
Lan Wangji was also incapable of getting a low score in the calligraphy competition, although Nie Huaisang shared in his misfortune there – being an artist did not necessarily translate to good penmanship, but in Nie Huaisang’s case it did – and naturally no one could quite compare to the atrocity that Wei Wuxian had created.
“It’s still recognizable as words, in my view,” Nie Huaisang declared after several minutes of close study. “So it should be fine to submit…you should really consider taking up abstract art, though. It’s quite nice, from that perspective.”
“Thank you,” Wei Wuxian said. “I think. Or was that an insult?”
The mathematics segment was even more disastrous for Lan Wangji – his uncle had brought him up with a strict prohibition against lying, including on test answers – and then they’d brought out music…
They didn’t even give Lan Wangji a chance to sabotage his chance, opting to just play a Youtube clip of one of his public performances on the guqin.
He was very, very good at guqin.
At least they’d done the same for Wei Wuxian and his flute – he ended up getting ranked first in music, even above Lan Wangji – but that wasn’t going to be enough to overcome his middle-of-the-road performances in the other subject.
“I think you’re going to win,” Jiang Cheng told Lan Wangji. “I’m very sorry. Seriously, and without sarcasm: I’m very, very sorry.”
Lan Wangji said nothing, but apparently his face managed to convey his misery effectively enough because Wei Wuxian came over and gave him a hug.
Lan Wangji enjoyed the hug, at least.
“Don’t worry,” Nie Huaisang said. He was fanning himself again – where did he even get a fan? Lan Wangji thought all three of the ones he’d seen Nie Huaisang pull out of his pockets had been confiscated, and surely there was a limit to how many “back-ups” a person plausibly needed – and reclining under the shade, having been thoroughly knocked out of the running during the physical portion of the competition. He hadn’t even had the courtesy to be concerned: he was, as always, secure in his uselessness. “We’ve been here for quite a while, haven’t we? Our families will be along soon enough to pick us up, and then we can forget all this.”
“What if they can’t, though?” Jiang Cheng said, wringing his hands. “I mean, we all hate him, he’s awful, yes, but he still has influence and power, for some unknown reason –”
“I still can’t believe there are people who support him. Least of all nearly half the cultivation world!”
“Less than half. Remember, we just counted.”
“Yes, yes, I know, but still. Regardless, don’t worry – it’ll be fine.”
“Surely if our families were going to do something, they’d be here already?” Jin Zixuan asked.
Jiang Cheng pointed at him. “See? Even the peacock is worried!”
“Also, what if Wen Ruohan wants to keep Lan Wangji as his heir even after we’re rescued?” Wei Wuxian wanted to know. He looked worried, which Lan Wangji appreciated. “Listen, my future boyfriend and I are not going to live somewhere named something as classless and pretentious as the, and I quote, ‘Nightless City’, okay? I refuse.”
…future boyfriend?
“The Nightless City is a perfectly decent name,” Nie Huaisang said. “For a Bond villain. Which I’m not convinced Wen Ruohan isn’t.”
Boyfriend? As in – romantic partner boyfriend?
“A Bond villain wouldn’t be this stupid,” Jiang Cheng argued.
Wei Ying’s future boyfriend?
“I dunno,” Wei Wuxian said. “There were some real stinkers, especially in the 70s…”
Did he mean Lan Wangji?
“Can we get back on subject?” Jin Zixuan wanted to know. “Lan Wangji is on the verge of being selected to be Wen Ruohan’s heir, and I’m not sure that process doesn’t involve brainwashing at some point.”
Wait, why was it future boyfriend? Couldn’t they be boyfriends now?
“I would fight them first,” Wei Wuxian declared. “All of them. Immediately!”
“Or we could escape. I know the guards took our cell phones, but I pickpocketed Wen Zhuliu’s and the GPS says we’re actually just at a warehouse outside the city.”
“We’d need a distraction, though…”
“How about we release the giant turtle?”
“Wait, that thing in the moat is a turtle? I thought it was a snake.”
“I don’t know why you expect me to know anything about amphibians.”
“It’s not – they’re not even remotely – a snake has no legs! What is wrong with you people?!”
“Unrelated, but has anyone noticed that none of the girls got brought in? Isn’t that sexist?”
“Like Wen Ruohan being sexist is a surprise –”
“I still think we need to do something before he tries to adopt Lan Wangji –”
“Do you want to go on a date with me?” Lan Wangji asked Wei Wuxian, who blinked at him, and then beamed. “Or maybe make out in the corner while everyone’s arguing?”
That seemed like something they’d both enjoy.
It was, too, right up until someone did unleash the giant turtle, at which point it was mostly screaming and splashing and all of their families coming to their rescue at just the right time.
But Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian were dating now, so overall, a good experience.
Well, mostly. Wen Ruohan sent him countless letters for the next two months asking him to consider coming back for an internship (to be paid in "experience" and "exposure", of course).
Lan Wangji burned them all.
#mdzs#wangxian#lan wangji#wei wuxian#nie huaisang#jiang cheng#jin zixuan#lan wangji's hormones#they get a special mention as a character#my fic#my fics#staringatstarsblog
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Irreplaceable (Caesar Zeppeli x Wife! Reader)
An interesting request sent in by a nonnie mouse. in this ficlet, the reader is a ballerina who sustains an injury. My first request for this charming man, I hope you enjoy the read my sweet nonnie.
TW: Mentions of injuries
Word Count: 1.2k
The crowd erupted into an energetic applause once the music stopped, and you had flawlessly executed your 32 fouettes en pointe- the highlight of dancing the role of the sultry black swan Odile. Staring into the sea of faces, they all seemed to blend together- all but one. Spotting the pair of emerald eyes gazing at you with pride, you smiled even wider as you took your bow, acknowledging the praise lavished on you from the enthralled patrons.
Quickly rushing off to do your costume change for the final act of the ballet, your thoughts drifted to your handsome husband and how supportive he was throughout your journey from starting out as part of the corps de ballet and being promoted to soloist and now finally the principal dancer at the prestigious Teatro alla Scala, even moving to Milan for you so you could pursue your dream. It was for this reason that you dedicated every performance to Caesar, and strived to get even better and reach newer heights, both figuratively and literally with your grand jetés.
Giving off a flawless enactment of the fading Odette, you concluded the first performance of Swan Lake for the season with a grace that was unmatched. None was prouder than Caesar, and he always let you know how wonderful you were after each and every performance. In the beginning, you weren’t sure if it was just the overly enthusiastic musings of a playboy, or if he was being genuine. But as love bloomed and matured, you realized that it was just how he displayed his affection. Grand romantic gestures- those formed part of Caesar’s love language, and even though his words and gestures sounded almost too perfect to be true, you had fallen for them entirely.
You wiped off the last remnants of your theatre makeup and scrutinized yourself in the mirror when you saw a familiar figure approaching you.
“Caesar, my love, you’re not allowed to be back here, what if someone catches you?”
“If they catch us, then we give them a show cara, besides, I know everyone here, they wouldn’t mind me coming to fetch my talented wife,” bending to meet your lips, he cups your face and places a soft kiss on your lips, taking your things with him so that you both could leave. Upon arriving home, you saw that Caesar had filled the space with your favorite flowers, numerous scented candles dotted your shared home, creating the perfect sanctuary for you to unwind. You were always very highly strung just before opening night, and you were certain that Caesar may have been on the receiving end of a few ill-conceived remarks and snarky responses.
“Tesoro, this is so beautiful, when did you get the time to do all of this?” you fawned as you walked through your home, eyeing the beautiful atmosphere.
“I have my ways cara, come, relax for a bit, I’ve already taken care of everything. Placing a kiss to your forehead, he coaxed you towards the beautiful footed bath. Getting in, you sighed in contentment, all was right in your world… at that moment you had no idea how much things were destined to change.
Call it a misstep, being out of sync or just a stroke of grave misfortune, you had found yourself writhing in agony at your next rehearsal after your partner misjudged a particularly difficult lift, which sent you tumbling awkwardly towards the floor, landing directly on your delicate ankle, sending a rush of searing pain through your leg, bruises forming simultaneously with the swelling of the injured appendage. A few hours later you were hobbling out of the emergency room of the hospital being supported by a pair of crutches and Caesar.
“I’m sorry cara, here, let me help you,”
“It’s fine, I can walk on my own…” you snapped back, the grimace plastered to your face deepening with each painful step.
“I’m sorry cara, but you’re struggling here, this will be faster,” without waiting for your approval, your charming husband hoisted you up effortlessly and carried you to the car.
“Thanks… I’m sorry, you didn’t deserve that, I’m just really disappointed… I worked so hard for the role and now I can’t dance for weeks… What if I’m never the same again?”
“Well cara, you aren’t going to be the same again, you’re going to make your comeback stronger than you were before. Think of this as a break for you to improve yourself… work on other parts of you while your body takes the time to heal itself. Now who are we?” you considered his points for a moment, pondering his last question.
“I understand my love, I guess I’m just angry, it was unnecessary… what do you mean by ‘who are we?’ I don’t get that…”
“What I mean, (y/n) is that we are Zeppelis, and these small setbacks are not nearly enough to drag us down. And by marrying me, you were brought into this family too, so the same rule applies,” reaching over to your side, Caesar grasped your hand and brought it to his lips for a quick kiss, before placing it on his lap and continued to drive you home. When you arrived home, he was so attentive to your needs, even more so than usual- making sure that you were comfortable, fed and as happy as you could be given your situation.
Your healing process was a slow one, and despite Caesar’s best efforts, you were miserable, sinking ever further into your melancholy with each passing day. Your days passed by with you meandering around the garden, doing the exercises recommended to you by your doctors and basking in the sunshine in an attempt to lighten your mood. Caesar tried his best, lavishing you with praise and affirmations of his affection for you. Even while wearing your gloomiest scowl, he was able to say or do something to lift your spirits, even if it was for the briefest of moments.
Sitting in the garden, your bundled form dwarfed by the beautiful wrought iron furniture, hair flowing gently in the breeze, Caesar stared wistfully at you, being reminded of the Pre Raphaelite Proserpine. Wanting to lighten your mood, the thoughtful man sent an array of hamon infused bubbles your way and relished the way you smiled at the multicolored orbs as they wafted along with the breeze. Turning around, you were met with the comforting sight of Caesar walking towards you.
“Buongiorno amore, how are you feeling this morning?”
“Good morning my love, I’m okay, better after that little display, how are you?” you replied with a soft smile.
“Well I’m worried about you…”
“Oh? I’m fine though, no need to worry…”
“You don’t have to pretend for me, cara … I know you’re scared and not being able to return to doing what you love so much… I can see its getting to you…”
“I guess I’m just getting impatient my love… I’m scared that I’m slowly being replaced, that there isn’t going to be a spot for me when I eventually heal…”
“(y/n)- amore, if there’s one thing that you will never have to worry about, it’s being replaceable, you have a special quality that simply cannot be replicated, and you’ll be back at it in no time. You may not notice it, but you are getting better, I can see it… come, let me see that dazzling smile,” you couldn’t help but feel giddy at his flowery words and the charming smile that accompanied it. In that moment, you felt completely at peace with the world, having a newfound confidence, that everything really was going to be alright.
#caesar zeppeli#caesar zeppeli x reader#jjba caesar#caesar x reader#caesar zeppeli x you#caesar zeppeli x y/n#jjba x reader#jjba x you#jjba x y/n#jojo's bizarre adventure#jojo no kimyou na bouken#jjba battle tendency#jjba part 2#jjba fanfic#my writing#jjba fluff#Hurt/comfort
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Fools who dream #Writer Wednesday 07/28/21 Javier Peña x f!reader
For #Writer Wednesday created by @autumnleaves1991-blog and tagging @clydesducktape that creates the masterlist every week. Thank you for the amazing work to both of you!!
Paring: Javier Peña xf!reader (addressed as you/she)
Summary: Long time ago, Javier met a girl full of dreams living a hard life. One day, driving around town he finds out that maybe, dreams do come true.
Warnings: smoking, swearing, +18 SMUT not very descriptive sex but it’s there, allutions to prostitution.
A/N: This is the lovechild of: me being angsty, listening to Lalaland’s soundtrack, and rereading a novella I wrote a long time ago about an escort girl that I was planning to rewrite (I thought that it could be an interesting Javi’s fic, but I don’t know). So to conclude: a mess, voilá! bear in mind, there’s mention of sexwork and we respect sexworkers in this house.
Sorry for any mistakes and bad grammar!!
Fools who dream
She turns and faces the camera, they make a dramatic zoom on her while the orquestra rises in a beautiful romantic crescendo. With pink parted lips she smiles at the protagonist, her eyes glow and shyly she lowers her gaze.
Back to the male lead he’s looking at her like there’s nobody else in the room, the camera blurs everything except his face and hers. Love, romance.
The movie was not really interesting until the moment she appeared. Same old story about a guy in search of that perfect girl, his life is miserable; making him fall into very comedic and not very surprising adventures and misfortunes on a very normal life up until she appears and then she shows him the meaning of life and live life to the fullest or some bullshit.
Javi didn’t pay a ticket for a good story, fuck he didn’t even read the plot before buying it. But he saw the sign while he was waiting at the traffic light, the local drive-in cinema and its yellow lights against the night presenting:
The right one (or something like that) starring some guy and then her name.
So he drove in and asked for a ticket, probably looking a bit weird being just a guy alone buying just one ticket to a romantic comedy surrounded by couples. It looks fucking sad, Peña he thought. But he has to see her, he has to see if it is true.
“Hi”
she says on the screen and it takes him away from his thoughts. Hearing that voice again after many years hits him so differently. To think that those sweet lips moaned and called his name pressed against his skin, so close that he can almost feel the heat of her body on him in his cold lonely car.
The guy smiles at her and makes a fool of himself gaining a sweet giggle from her. And it reminds him of the times she danced in his apartment or made fun of him for being such a grump.
Deja de fruncir el ceño, Javi, que se te va a quedar así (Stop frowning, Javi, or it’s gonna stay like that) she used to say, brushing her index finger over her nose giggling just like now in the movie.
She said something back, but he’s not listening. Javier just puts the words he remembers she said to him on her lips. A fantasy within a fantasy.
What is more real? those intimate moments years ago or him watching her on a movie alone in his car?
He has lost the plot, but who cares? She laughs and pushes the protagonist's hand to the empty streets of New York and the lights shine on them, and as the world perfectly bends to lovers in movies, it starts raining and she receives the drops with open arms and a wide grin. And they kiss, a perfect one, soft lips over the other. Nothing like the kisses they shared
Their kisses were hungry, knowing that they were borrowed and paid in time, rushed sometimes, others slowly and messy pouring all the heat and the pain and the adrenaline in which he lived in those years.
Now he wishes he could have kissed her once last time, just like that, softly, the world far away from them. Perfect just like a movie.
The audience claps rejoicing in this celebration of love, some young couples are celebrating love in some different kind of way, the movie merely an excuse to have some time alone under the stars.
And Javier is suddenly aware of his loneliness of the empty space by his side, he’s the antonym of what he’s seeing on screen, of having the luck of finding the one and being delighted in love.
He could’ve been in love, once. He certainly felt something growing and shattering the hard shield he had on his chest when they were together.
And now watching her mimic those feelings, those desires, he feels jealous, of what? he doesn’t know, it’s not like they had a chance...did they?
Colombia, 1984
“You’re going to laugh” you say the fan above your head blows waves of hot air that still smell of sex and the cigarette Javi’s smoking languidly over the window.
He has barely put his jeans on, the zip and top button undone. He looks tired, the dark circles under his eyes are way more visible today than ever. You can even see the weight on his shoulders, he’s hunching, his neck curved down as he smokes.
He doesn’t say but you know there’s something bothering him, he’s quieter than usual, rougher.
He called you late in the evening, paid a taxi to get you to his house and you barely made it to the door when he grabbed you by your hips and pressed his body against yours. The kiss was ardent, his tongue invading your mouth in a mix of coffee, whiskey and smoke and need. You tried to push him and talk, just maybe say hello how was your day but he whimpered, he’s dark eyes pleading while he caressed your cheeks. And you let him, you know what he needed so you said nothing when he impatiently fisted your skirt up your navel and pushed your panties to the side so he could bury himself in you.
Covered in the dim lights of the scarce traffic in the middle of the night, silent apart from the rhythmic thumps of your hips hitting the door and both of your whispers and moans, Javier performed his usual rite of expelling his demons away on you. Each thrust, each second he was in you, the world became nothing, just white noise, there was only you and the primal need of achieving pleasure skin against skin.
Your soft voice, those sweet lips gasping brushing against his ear, he thinks it’s the only time he likes to hear his name being called or actually being aware of himself. With you there’s no Javier running to and from monsters and there’s no brutality or violence.
There’s only your soft hands locked on his neck, fingers curled in his hair and when you smile at him, eyes up the sky, lost in pleasure, he feels good and the world seems a little bit better.
“I even didn’t offer some water before…” he said after he recovers his breath still inside you
“I’ve never had a warmer welcome in my life, Javi, it’s alright” you laugh with legs trembling
“Still” he kissed your wrists and held you close, walking slowly towards the bedroom.
You barely made some small talk before his eyes grew darker, lost in something that chokes him, and he quietly covers you with his big body
“I just need to make love to you...please” he said with his forehead on yours. And here you are, body exhausted and numb, cooling the sweat with the sweet waves of air from the fan.
“I won’t laugh at you” he answers resuming the conversation, you were lost in your thoughts but when you look at him, you see he watches you intently and you believe him
“I mean it’s so cliche how I ended up doing this...it’s ridiculous” you shake your head
None of your clients has ever asked you about how you ended up doing this. None of them are really interested in you anyway, they prefer a fantasy, a character. But not Javi, and that scares you. He sees right through you.
“I wanted to get out of my small town, I had big dreams, big plans” you smile “I came to the city and I tried and tried to succeed but...well, long story short, a friend proposed it once and the money was too tempting”
“What did you want to do in the first place?” Javi approaches the bed. His skin shines against the moonlight, his disheveled hair makes him looks younger
“Now you’re going to really laugh” you cover your face with one of his pillows
“C’mon tell me” he smirks squeezing your tight
“I wanted to be an actress, do novelas, films, everything” you shyly confess. For a moment, you don’t look at him, expecting him to chuckle at your stupid little dream, but seconds pass and he doesn’t
“ I think you could do it” Javi’s hands draw small circle over you hip bones
“You think?” you bite your lip
“I do” he shifts position, resting his back on the bed and you open your legs so he can rest his head over your belly “Would you send me a dedicated picture once you made it?” you brush his hair out of his face and you see he’s smiling
“Of course, To my very first fan, who always believed in me” you wave your hand over the imaginary paper “And a kiss just under it”
“Would frame it and put it in my office...nah” he shakes his head “I put it right here” he motions towards the nightstand “I don’t want my colleagues greasy hands over my picture”you laugh out loud at his comment
“Sure, so you can dream about me” you joke stealing his cigarette and smoking a long drag
Present day
You don’t know how many times he has dreamt about you.
How many times that stupid movie has played in his house late at night, he bought it, foolish at it may seem, he has rewatch every frame, stopping to admire you.
You look happy now, your sweet eyes shine more and he’s happy, really is, that you have made it, but deep down, he wonders, as much as it makes he’s heart ache, Do you think about him? surely you don’t.
Probably you left that part of your life buried somewhere in Colombia. You changed your name, your past, everything, how could you think about him?
You’re probably living your best life, full of glamour, opportunities opening just in front of your eyes. How could you remember him?
You don’t (surely) so he has to content himself with the fiction. He replays that scene where you turn to the camera, smiling
Hi
and just for a second, he thinks, he dreams, it’s for him.
#writer wednesday#javier peña fanfic#javier peña fanfiction#javier peña x you#javier peña x f! reader#javier peña fic#javier peña#javier peña smut#Javier Pena#Javier Pena fanfic#Pedro Pascal#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fanfiction#Pedro Pascal characters fanfiction#jose pedro balmaceda pascal#Narcos#narcos fic#narcos fanfiction
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Girl Time and Lullaby
Pairing: Omega and F Reader friendship
Warnings: None it is female bonding and friendship
Word Count: 1778
Summary: Omega had always been well aware that there was one huge difference between her and her brothers. Something so profoundly different that it set her apart and that did not change until she met you.
Notice: After the disappointing finale of TBB i finished this little lyric work for Omega. I used the text of SleepSsong performed by Secret Garden
Omega had always been well aware that there was one huge difference between her and her brothers. Something so profoundly different that it set her apart and that did not change until she met you.
Working in Cid's bar on Ord Mantell, you had been amused by the sight of a young girl wrapping the men in her life all around her little fingers. Sure, you had seen adult women do this to men and they would get things done that way, but this girl was something else entirely. And with this young girl, it was not just the men that were taken in by her, not even Cid was immune to her charms.
With a bright smile Omega stepped into the bar. “Y/N! We finally got to try out the new Mantell Mix! It is soooooo gooooood. Do you want some as well?” Holding out the carton of the mix that both she and Wrecker always enjoy together after a mission, she beams a big smile at you and offers you to have a taste of it.
You can not help but grin at the beaming smile and the carton that is held out to you by this young girl. Her enthusiasm and her sweet demeanor make her easily loveable and like it or not, she has you wrapped around at the very least one finger as well. Grabbing a few pieces of the mix you taste them and hum in approval of the new taste. “That does taste very good.”
Happy with the approval of her new favorite taste, Omega turns around to her brother who followed close behind her. “Wrecker, next time we should also take a carton of mix for her. She likes the taste as well.”
Wrecker smiles his famous, beaming smile as he nods, popping yet another hand of mix into his mouth. “Uhuh kid! Sure will. It's getting late, we should go grab some sleep.”
“You forgot Wrecker? Omega will be staying with me tonight. It's girls night.” With an exaggerated wink you grin at Omega. “You ready sweety?”
Omega nods as she moves to get behind the bar. “Yep, all ready! I just wish we had taken some more of the new mix with us.”
Wrecker looks at you and Omega one more time as he turns around and leaves the bar. “Have fun kid! Take good care of her Y/N!”
Omega waves at him one more time and then turns to look at you. “When are we going?”
Loo-li, loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay
Loo-li, loo-li, loo-li lai-lay
Lay down your head and I'll sing you a lullaby
Back to the years of loo-li lai-lay
After you had cleaned the bar, with some help from Omega, the two of you left for your small apartment only a few steps away from Cid bar. It was your little kingdom in a world that has been in disarray for a while. Your little refuge and now you could share it for a night with a young girl that could really do with some female company.
Girls night would be a welcome change for someone who has been raised between aliens and clones. Granted, the clones did not have it any easier, far from it, but for a young and impressionable girl, being raised by an alien race to be a medic and who knows what else was planned? She could seriously do with at the very least a sisterly bond and you were more than welcoming to the idea.
When the two of you had settled into your apartment, Omega put a fresh set of clothing in the bedroom and all the snacks and drinks were set on the table close at hand, you were ready for some cheesy holo`s and whatever you could think of. Before you knew it, Omega was trying out every way possible to do your hair while you were scrolling through pictures of cute haircuts for Omega. Inspired by the latest in a string of short movies, you struck up conversation about her need for some new clothes. The fresh set she had brought with her, were actually nothing more than a set of blacks and the standard outfit you were used to from her.
“It's decided then, tomorrow we will go shopping. I know some small shops around that might have just what we need for you Megs.”
Happy with the plans for the next day, Omega nods, grabs a snack and snuggles next to you on the couch. You grab a corner of the blanket that you had spread on the couch and draw it over the two of you. “Ohhh this is my favorite. That guy? He will have to find a way to lift a curse that is keeping him and the love of his life apart. He turns into a wolf at night and she turns into a hawk during the day.” Together you watch the movie, eating snacks and having soft drinks. Sometimes you giggle together or comment on what happens.
Before you both realized it, it had gotten late and time to sleep. Humming, you motion for Omega to follow you to the bedroom where you brushed your teeth in the fresher and got ready to change. A sudden gasp from Omega has you turn around. “Lula! Look, Y/N, Wrecker packed Lula.”
The stuffed Tooka doll that both Wrecker and Omega still care for greatly as if it were a living thing, is now held against Omega`s chest as if it were a fragile child or pet. You softly hum as you take in the scene.
“I suppose Wrecker wanted to make sure you would feel at ease here Megs.”
Omega nods as she puts the doll down on the bed. “Lula has something comforting. I guess we both just need to have that sometimes and it is the last thing we have from our home.”
Kamino, the planet that was home to her and her brothers for as long as she could remember. The place where they had all been bred for war and whatever other reasons there were to create so many clones. And now it was the last place they would ever want to go, because it would most likely mean imprisonment and a certain death. You feel for the young girl and her band of brothers. Actually, you feel for all the men who were born there and might never have a real home to call their own, with the way things are going in this galaxy.
“What is that melody you have been humming Y/N? It sounds nice.” Omega yawns as she asks and rubs her eyes.
“It is a lullaby from long ago sweetheart. Come, lay down and I'll sing some for you. I don't have the best of voices, but it is the thought that counts right?” You tap the bed and help Omega settle in. As she lays down you stroke her hair and begin to softly hum and sing the words.
And I'll sing you to sleep and I'll sing you tomorrow
Bless you with love for the road that you go
May you sail far to the far fields of fortune
With diamonds and pearls at your head and your feet
And may you need never to banish misfortune
May you find kindness in all that you meet
May there always be angels to watch over you
To guide you each step of the way
To guard you and keep you safe from all harm
Loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay
As you hum and sing the words, Omega yawns once more and slowly her eyes close. Her breathing becomes deeper and deeper, each passing second as her body relaxes under the gentle stroking of her hair. Then, she softly snores for a second and you know the girl is in a deep sleep. Pulling up the blanket you smile at the little figure under it.
“Sweet dreams Megs.” Carefully, as not to wake her, you stand up and walk back to the living room to clean up the last bits of snacks and drinks. When your comm beeps you grin, already knowing very well who it is that is checking in at this time.
“She is deep asleep Hunter, no need to worry about that.”
You hear a deep chuckle from the other side before the man actually speaks up. “Guess I am that predictable then?”
“You all are. I know for sure that the others are listening in on this.” They can hear the smile in your voice as you speak. “Reporting in Sarge! Megs and I had a nice girls night, she is deep asleep now and tomorrow morning, after breakfast, we will be doing some much needed shopping after which I will be returning her safe and sound to you lot.”
“Thanks Y/N. Omega needed some time with someone … Well, not like us. You know, soldiers.” You can practically hear him think about how to explain what he thought Omega needed. She needed a female presence around sometimes to help her with the more girly things and you had taken her under your wing when you met for the first time.
“No problem guys. I will get her some new clothes and some other items she will need when on board of the Marauder. When we are done I will take her back to Cids bar to meet up with you all.”
After you finished your conversation, you go back to the bedroom where Omega is still deep asleep, clutching Lula to her chest. You dim the light as you crawl in yourself. It had been a nice evening with Omega and the day to come would bring some nice time away from the usual missions as well for Omega and a day away from bar duties for you. Softly humming the last few sentences of the lullaby you sang to Omega, you drift off to sleep thinking about the family you left behind on your travels and the new family you had found in the most unlikely of places. A strange family of clones you began to love deeply and the friends you made while working in the bar.
May you bring love and may you bring happiness
Be loved in return to the end of your days
Now fall off to sleep, I'm not meaning to keep you
I'll just sit for a while and sing loo-li, lai-lay
May there always be angels to watch over you
To guide you each step of the way
To guard you and keep you safe from all harm
Loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay, loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay
@loth-wolffe@moonstrider9904@nahoney22@chaoticvampirejedi@weirdcharacter@uponrightful@m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s@cyroku@reluctant-mandalore@kin-rokku@catbustours
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Picture source : @Mnine5 (Meijo) in Twitter
Note : actually, it’s not a request but I was bored and I wondered « what kind of person would the SNK characters on the social medias be » - soo here we go
Sorry for my english…I am french and I still learning - please forgive me and protect your eyes 🤧
Warning : (12+) social media can be dangerous
SHINGEKI NO KYOJIN ON SOCIAL MEDIA 💥
Eren
Instagram : friends, family, abs, outfits, travel….king of instagram, super popular on instagram, everyone follow him but he only follows his friends and instagram he finds interesting, over time it has become an influence, Eren has like a million followers on Insta @IamErenJaeger
Snapchat : « who has a netflix account ? » in story, selfies with friends at all kinds of events, often takes pictures of Mikasa and Armin by surprise, never puts a filter on for him or for the people he snaps, everyone can watch his story and comment (public baby), already received nudes… @ErenJaegeeer
Whatsapp : he is in all group discussions but rarely answers, when he answers it is surely because the conversation becomes funny or because they talk about Jean and then it degenerates (when too far between Eren and Jean everyone leaves the group and they end up « wait…everyone is gone…? ») and a new groupe is created but the fight starts again (others are like « here we go again » )
Twitter : can easily get upset in a debate, is not afraid to say what he thinks, it is blocked by a lot of people (please take away his twitter), has a large fanbase : Jaegerist (@CaptainFlochForster is the leader fanbase…best to avoid them.) it’s very simple : either you’re wrong or you’re not right @ErenJaeger
Tumblr : He is not really known on tumblr, follow only his friends and is followed only by his friends. Does a lot of reblog tumblr he likes and post a lot kind of sick jokes like « What is the only dog you can eat? - A Hot Dog » (20 followers…)
Armin
Instagram : sharing photos of his travels around the world, a lot of ocean scenery, monuments like the Eifel Tower, does not put a photo of him or his friends, his instagram is public to share his beautiful photos with the world (2,5K followers) @ArminVibe
Twitter : Sharing conspiracy theories with other twittos, if by misfortune a conspiracy ends up in TT you can be sure that it will tweet all evening, twitter reveals its dark side, It can deal with all subjects and he’s gonna take his time to make you understand that you’re WRONG @ArminArlett
Snapchat : he doesn’t know why he has a snapchat, if you send him a snap photo he will just look without answering but if you start a discussion he will probably lose your message if you have not recorded (his fault, but he really does not do it on purpose, he does not really drag on this social media)
Whatsapp : quite active on whatsapp, in groups it is the one that stays the longest active, uses a correct grammar, always has time for someone who needs to talk (a colossal heart…)
Tumblr : very popular on tumblr with his famous landscape photos, he also likes to share theories with whoever wants it, has created a discussion group of which Erwin and Hanji are part (these three are often found in several discussion groups…), is subscribed to Annie
Mikasa
Instagram : her account is private (like most of his social medias) if she does not know you be sure that she will never accept a subscription request (and she receives a lot of subscription requests), sometimes post photos of Eren and her, sometimes with Armin and a picture with the whole group together, has maximum 5 publications and has maximum 100 subscriptions and she subscribes to only 25 people (who are they?) and her favorite girl’s band @MikasaAckerman
Twitter : is fan of girl’s band, a twitter just to follow their news, she has already been on top tweet (never knew why and honestly she doesn’t care), her account is totally private but she receives a lot of follow requests (she declines) @MikasaAckerman
Snapchat : does not do a lot of selfie but she likes cute filters, often does black snap with dark quotes « the sun always shines after a dark night » , tends to reply 2 days after being sent a snap (🤡) yet she makes the flames with Eren (already 834 flames) so she just ignores snaps
Whatsapp : she is in full of group discussions, but always reads without answering (”Read”), she often ends up leaving the discussion groups (but there is always someone to add her to the group, often Sasha)
Tumblr : has a fake account, by the way she is super popular, she posts her covers of her favorite songs @Mikasong (fucking great voice), already has a small community
Reiner
Instagram : is totally subscribed to Emily Ratajkowski (but who is not?), was the first happy to know that the likes are hidden, kind to like a lot of ass and body fitness (…<.<) it’s sure Historia blocked him (probably deserved) @ReinerBraun
Twitter : profile photo of a football player, often mentions his friends, and ALWAYS mentions Conny for challenges « Dare or not to ring your neighbor’s door at 3:00am and ask him for sugar », the kind to tweets like « Nicki Minaj or Cardi b ? » @ReinerTheBigBrother
Snapchat : You see this guy who makes a lot of views on snap and who everyone asks for publicity? Yes, it’s Reiner. Become master of the screenshot (already found himself in a complicated situation because of it…this awkward moment where you catch something you shouldn’t capture…), also receives nudes (btw 🤡) he never watches stories @ReineerGg
Whatsapp : he often ends up being ejected from discussion groups for his dubious humour and is often the victim of Ymir’s blackmail (screenshots can be fatal…)
Tumblr : he doesn’t even know what it’s for
Bertholdt
Instagram : has two instagram accounts, the first is his real account, he only follows his friends and is only followed by his friends and the second is a (secret) fan account on Annie Leonhart @fannie-kickass
Snapchat : goes selfie on occasions like birthdays (party) or when he is with friends, likes animal filters, snap everyone and without warning, during the evenings with friends he often finds himself in the snap of everyone without his knowledge and discovers him the next day (sleeper pose) @Berth5
Whatsapp : the kind of person to share a lot of petitions like « Hi, Nolan still needs 300,000 signatures to be able to convince his parents to buy him ps5 » (he can’t refuse to share when asked…colossal heart - like Armin <.<), calm in group discussions (is not the type to get involved in an argument, always remains neutral when the situation degenerates), he often speaks with Reiner privately and gives him advice on how to approach Annie - but by the time he decided to send a message to Annie, she had already deleted the application… (legend says he’s still waiting for an answer)
Twitter : if you identify him in a tweet, it will probably not read it but will still like it (why not), he does definitely part of the commentators of entertainment shows or sports matches @Bertholdt
Tumblr : hesitates to create a tumblr but does not really know what he could talk about
Annie
Instagram : shares his training and does not hesitate to make demonstrations of his techniques, is quite popular on instagram, to a lot of publication, post a photo with his father just after each victory with a caption « It is God who gives » ; already has a good community (320K followers), account is certified
Snapchat : never goes on his account, totally professional use, it is his father who manages his snapchat to post in story the videos her training and his official matches with the caption « Little Rocky 🔥 »
Whatsapp : it ended up deleting the app because too much discussion that ends in spam (it will be for a next time Berth)
Tumblr : her little cocoon where she can be herself, the only social media that has her interest, her tumblr is dedicated to the cat, she is a fan @Kitty-Catnnie , the only person in the group to know her tumblr is Armin with whom she sometimes chat
Twitter : She is still on top tweet despite her « Mikasa vs Annie, who wins ??? », she never tweet but retweet a lot of things especially those of Conny, it happens to like the tweets of commentator Jean
Jean
Instagram : if you want to see his account you must first subscribe, generally accept all requests, send quite a lot of DM like « you wouldn’t have a bandage because I hurt myself by falling in love with you » sometimes succeeds other times it ends blocked ( or screenshots that end up on Twitter) @JeanOfficiel
Snapchat : He was blocked by Mikasa and Eren (not for the same reasons), made the flames with everyone (but the most with Marco), has already tried to snap Mikasa in secret (it is caught in the act), loves selfies @Ihateeren
Whatsapp : the kind who doesn’t look to whom he sends a message and always has the wrong discussion, so becomes panicked « DONT READ!!! » accidentally already sent a nude in a group discussion (unfortunately screenshots have been made) Eren laughed about this story for several months like « How is Jeanbo doing ? He’s grown up since last time? » (he doesn’t talk about Jean…you know…)
Tumblr : he created a popular mini series on tumblr « You prefer…? » and also « If you were… » (the concept is very cool and we can do it with all the subjects), made a lot reblog, reblog ALL covers of Mikasa
Twitter : has been blocked by half of the tweetos sphere after several heated debates, is one of the people who comment on the shows mainly reality TV (he does it with passion) « SANDRA LEAVES WITH ANTONIO W/O MONEY !!!! IT’S A FUCKIIIING JOKE ?????!!!!! #TheVillaOfBrokenHeart2 » or « I’m the only one who hates Mike ? #MonacoShore » , it’s that kind of tweet that Annie likes) @JeanKirschtein
Marco
Instagram : accepts only requests from friends, his account is private, sharing small moments of his life with friends and families, use many hashtag like #AllThatGlittersIsNotGoldEvenJean (but nobody understands what he means)
Snapchat : often comments his friends’ stories, is the kind to come talk to you if you put a dark snap like « cruel world »
Whatsapp : often receives private messages like « Marco, are you there? » it always ends in long discussions (« The confidant ») he knows how to find the right words, it is active and always “available” if someone needs it
Twitter : always makes Jean’s defense on twitter, the kind of person to be part of a fanbase (like HarryPotter), uses hastag LGBT+
Tumblr : super popular on tumblr, he makes headcanons and screenplays of his favorite books, series and movies, has a preference for Yaoi but he can make any request (2K followers) @HalfMan
Conny
Instagram : very very popular on instagram thanks to his account with Sacha where they share their farce and does not hesitate to challenge, they post the pranks they make to their friends (1M followers) they are not yet certified @TwoDummies , he has a second private account : with just family and friends (arround 55 followers) @hismotherson
Snapchat : the kind of person who does a snap at 2H00 of the mat « who for the flames », has a lot of snap discussions, always makes stories that ends badly like « I’m going to ride a bike » and in his last snap he ends up in emergency… (true story)
Whatsapp : has an unimaginable number of “caption this” for ALL situations, it sometimes created discussion groups (it’s just that it prepares a stupidity) otherwise is not super active but will always answer if it has a message
Twitter : clash with everyone « Your mother was pregnant for 9 months of your big head but you can’t stand a joke ? SHAME » (blocked), king of challenges, makes all the challenges where it is mentioned, retweet all the « Dare or not… » of Reiner, uses a lot of abbreviation, he invented a lot of hastag like #AlphaLevi and people have fun with his hastag
Tumblr : his more than empty tumblr, has no profile photo, and compulsive liker, it’s literally a fake account for liking funny things @JustConny
Sasha
Instagram : receives many comments under the photos of his joint account with Conny like « POTAETOS GIRL WE LOVE U » and « POTAETOS POWER », often pranks and ends up in the account, has a second private instafood account and also post photos with Nikolo @MadamePatate
Snapchat : oh my dear, he gets into a lot of trouble (funny drama) so stay connected for his “Storytime” evenings (we often hear Ymir commenting in the background with sarcasm and Conny’s laugh)
Whatsapp : the kind of person to send in a « bbiad » discussion (I’ll be back in a bit) and never come back in the discussion, written in abbreviation, loves group conversations
Twitter : has disabled twitter because of a "caption” that Conny posted on it (potaetos girl exists thanks to a tweet) but there reactivated a week later, tweets like a dramaqueen « WHAAAAT @netflix SEASON TWO IS COMING OUT TOMORROW BUT NOT TODAY ???? WHYYYYYYYYY ! I’m never gonna be able to wait till tomorrow to eat my popcorns frkrkellelrlrl BUY ME POPCORNS NETFLIX BUUUY », has already been on top tweet #potatoesgirl
Tumblr : victim of her reputation even on tumblr, reblog a lot of post food and potential future challenges from Conny, often finds “caption this” with her face and always reacts with a more than dramatic surprise « SHIT AGAIN ??! »
Historia
Instagram : receives a lot of DM from people she doesn’t know, never accept them, like all the photos of her friends, you can see her insta only if you subscribe…(15K followers) @RealHistoria
Snapchat : renames all her friends by cute nicknames, the kind that snaps the place where she is or her food with a « have a nice day », queen of selfie, likes the filters
Whatsapp : uses a lot of emoji, hearts have become a punctuation, in group discussions she often comments « Ymir !! » after a sarcastic comment, tries to temper when the situation becomes too stormy
Twitter : avoids twitter like the plague, has disabled her account, reactivates it on occasions before losing interest once again, in fact her account is a fake where she is named @christaLenz
Tumblr : pretty active, committed LGBT+ activist, reblog testimonials, lots of likes, reblog Mikasa covers a.k.a Mikasong
Ymir
Instagram : a lot of photos of Historia (it looks like a fan account), often comments the photos of her friends (unfortunately for them) @Ymir
Snapchat : a lot of selfie with Historia, if a fight or something awkward happens in front of her she will be the first to make a snap (and no scruple to put it in her story), if Reiner is the King of awkward screenshots then she is the Queen for INTENTIONAL screenshots, her memories are filled with compromising photos on EVERYONE
Whatsapp : Do you remember the screenshots on snap? Well it is on Whatsapp that they find their usefulness. Can send them to a discussion group as if nothing had happened but her specialty is a service for her silence (yes blackmail) it’s never anything bad, but enough to piss off the victim (who is often Reiner)
Tumblr : forgot her password and honestly she doesn’t want to find it, why did she tumblr ?
Twitter : she is often upset about debates, often sarcastic in her retweets, « Caption This », always the last word, she is very popular on Twitter, she’s already been on top tweet (because a drama with her identity) @LadyYmir
Levi
Instagram : does not really look at his newsline, Instagram in black and white and very orderly (#GrandArt), his account is public but no one can comment on his photos @LeviAckerman
Snapchat : a block Hanji (too many snap video that turned into spam), to rename all his contacts by nicknames like « Brat Number one », « Brat Number 2 » (etc.) and Zeke « shithead » nothing abnormal, It has already posted a snap of his head in front camera (had not done it on purpose) deleted after realizing…(especially after receiving plenty of notifications), he and Zeke attack each other by proxy story (no one understands…but it’s funny to read)
Whatsapp : is always “offline” or “busy” but will always respond if sent a message, probably blocked Zeke on all social medias
Tumblr : shares his passion for tea and cleanliness, loves the healthy atmosphere of tumblr, has quite a fan, reblog and subscribes to Armin @TeaWithLevi
Twitter : Tweet by accident (in the pocket >.<) like « jf’dyt’rimsjrdy’yfgi » but other thant he almost never tweets, but when he does it is to complain or creepy « today I learned that a lollipop breaks easily like the legs of a clown » (…we don’t want understand), he’s already been on top tweet with the #AlphaLevi like « #AlphaLevi can surround his ennemies. Alone. » ; « #AlphaLevi makes the onions cry » ; « #AlphaLevi can go up downstairs » (we thank Conny for this hashtag) @LeviAckerman
Hanji
Instagram : honestly if you want to do a search on someone you have to check with Hanji, FBI of the net (”the stalker”), its account is public : post photos with Levi (who has to be taken by surprise) mentions everyone on its posts, photo with Moblit during their experiences (like “Break”), its instagram looks cool @OfficerZoe
Snapchat : snap often its scientific experiments (and other) and we always hear Moblit screaming in the background « Hanji-san! Back ! » , they like to comment on the stories of Levi and Zeke, already tried to make the flames with Levi and Erwin (tried without success)
Whatsapp : spends its time doing focus groups before it degenerates, its favorite pairs are Eren/ Jean and Levi/ Zeke but never has a battery
Tumblr : strangely its tumblr is very serious, they share its hypotheses and theories on scientific subjects, they talk about its experiences and future scientific experiments, they post the results of its research, has its own focus group (Erwin is one of them) @DrHZoe
Twitter : @Dr.troublegirl everything is in the pseudo, will accumulate and then become spectator of a massacre, his catchphrase is « you’re implying… »
Erwin
Instagram : it is very orderly and pleasant to look at, post works of art that crosses his path, does not often check his actuality but when he does it everyone is happy…(always the little comment that makes a good mood and a little like)
Snapchat : his story is public but only his “friends” can comment, snap his visits to the museum and snap a lot the streetart but is not really active when he makes “snap discussion” @Eyebrow (account created by Hanji…)
Whatsapp : uses impeccable punctuation and grammar, often discusses with Armin on intellectual topics and confronts their assumption he is the only one who is not part of a discussion group with ALL the characters (just a few groups like Hanji/Levi/Mike), from time to time he receives family photos of Niail and talks about old times
Twitter : activist totally committed to good causes ( #blacklivesmatter) (#justicepourAdama ), retweet the political news, has already tweeted with the #AlphaLevi @ErwinSmitt
Tumblr : pretty active, post on subjects that fascinate him (like history), his tumblr is very interesting and orderly, proposes developed theories and some people (students like Conny) go there to find answers to their homework… @Sasageyo
Zeke / Sieg
Instagram : created an insta to talk with Eren but he got blocked after commenting on one of his photos « Beautiful sweetren, you grow up day by day, signed your beloved brother » didn’t understand why he couldn’t see his instagram after that ; his instagram is very neat : instafood & instabook but doesn’t have many followers because his instagram account is private (like 150 follower) @ZekeJaerger
Snapchat : made stories to address to Eren instead of sending him directly in private (didn’t really understand the concept) that’s how to start the attacks between him and Levi, Eren ended up deleting the app to him
Whatsapp : uses impeccable grammar (also blocked Livai on all its social medias), tends to read without answering « Read since two days »
Twitter : tweets like « I am now on twitter. » or « Good Morning Twitter. » and lots of « Join me on Candy Crush » , he also likes to comment on his favorite culinary shows with a lot hastag, honestly he is one of the people who blocked Eren on Twitter but does not really assume it « What ? Weird…I must have hit the wrong button… » yes of course… @ZekeJaeger
Tumblr : reblog Erwin’s posts which he finds very interesting, to himself his own theories which he confronts with Erwin in discussion groups, is part of a quite popular team on tumblr “GenshiKyojin”, (with leader Eren Kruger) #uses #too #much #hastag (#like #me) @KemenoNoKyojin
#shingeki no kyojin#snk#AoT#attack on titan#Eren Jaeger#eren yeager#mikasa ackerman#armin arlert#reiner braun#bertholdt hoover#annie leonhardt#jean kirstein#jean kirschstein#marco bott#marco bodt#conny springer#sasha braus#historia#historia reiss#christa lenz#ymir#hange zoe#levi ackerman#livai ackerman#erwin smith#zeke jaeger#zeke yeager#sieg snk#connie springer#headcanon
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What it feels like to be loved
Author’s Notes | I couldn’t write anything that wouldn’t include our beautiful Ivar for his sweet main queen! Hope you like this, babe! Universe | Vikings Pairing | Ivar x Reader Info | Modern Age AU, produced for the Patron’s Holiday Event Words | 1926 ⁑ Warnings: Mentions of Ivar’s disease and his crisis, Historic/Religious inaccuracy (Yule’s last night is originally December 31st to January 1st).
The last Yule night.
With so many nights in the damn year for him to lose, Ivar managed to lose the last Yule night, which was something his children would wait the whole year to live with him. A family night he used to share with his family and then, later on, with you and the couple of beautiful children you had produced together.
Not this year... This year his damn OI would fuck up everything.
This year he wouldn't be freaking able to reach the plane and land on time because he had to spend one more day in that damn hospital on the other fucking side of the freaking world cause, of course, Björn couldn't give up a trip with his new bitch to solve the problems of the company and he had to go by himself. If he was closer to his home, the crisis wouldn't be a problem: his doctor knew his bad mood and his ways and wouldn't have kept him one more day for observation into that shitty place. But the foreign doctors didn't know him. They didn't know it was something he had to experience his whole life. They didn't know it was something he knew better than his own mind. And, of course, they wanted to earn the money for one more day of his insurance paying for foreign care.
When Ivar finally managed to land with the chartered plane he had found a way to get in the air for him to come home - and fuck the expensive price! Björn could pay from his part of the profit! - it was almost the night of December 25th. He had lost the last night of Yule, the morning after, the gifts, the lunch with his mother... With some luck, Ivar would arrive to put his crying children to bed, mourning the fact that he had promised them gifts he wasn't able to bring by himself. Fuck!
A thousand times fuck!
He knew he was forcing his steps, but Ivar walked a little faster into the elevator. The white of his eyes slightly blued at the mirror, making him grunt in anger, scratching the eye as if he could take that shit off with his fingers and erase that damn sign of weakness from his eyes, to smile and pretend everything was alright for you and the children. To stop worrying the three of you so much with that bullshit.
When the elevator opened its door, Ivar got off with the usual sounds of his crutched walk a little louder due to the heavier steps. He was tired, pained... Yet, Ivar straightened himself at the door, taking a deep breath, intending to get in with the best of his apologies for having to call Hvitserk to deliver his gifts at his home while he was locked in that damn foreign country.
But his face lost the mask when he opened the door, feeling as if the whole weather had changed from his door inside. The whole house was changed with amber lamps instead of the usual whites, creating a cozy ambient that made it more comfortable to look around for his eyes tired of the long trip.
The whole house was smelling like fresh ginger biscuits. And there were festoons and decorations everywhere... Shouldn't they be taken off already?
With slower steps, Ivar entered the corridor. But before he could reach his living room, his foot touched something fluffy on the ground and he looked down to see some comfortable warm shoes. It put a smile on his face. He could remember when you made those for him, for the kids, and for yourself, using a cozy and fluffy tissue in different colors for the whole family. Something he could use not to be barefoot at home, keeping his aching feet warm and cozy for the winter nights. Slowly, he took off the tight shoes from his work and sat at the bench of his corridor, straightening his legs and taking off his sockets to slide the aching feet into those cozy pieces of clouds you had prepared for him. His mouth exhaled a relieved sigh. How good it was to feel home once again?
"Husband?"
His sigh had called your attention and soon there was a pair of laughing and happy kids around him. His younger daughter jumping against him, throwing him on the ground with the boy coming with her to embrace him.
You would reprehend them for that action usually, asking them to be careful with father's bones, but this time, you didn't say a word and Ivar smiled, allowing himself to feel the good sensation of his children's happiness he thought wouldn't be there to receive his arrival.
"Daddy! You came home!" his son smiled.
"We were waiting for you!" his daughter completed, with a huge and beautiful smile.
And he caressed them both, sitting on the ground to kiss both of their heads.
"Can we start now, mommy?" the little girl asked, bouncing on her little heels in that characteristic sign of happiness she had inherited from her uncle Hvitserk, denouncing they were planning something that was about to start.
Something both of his children were eager about.
"Start?" Ivar asked, curious. "What is it that I'm not understanding?"
But you just smiled, lowering yourself to help him to get up and stand with his crutch once again - knowing it would be a hard task with his OI in crisis, but saying nothing about that little gesture, not wanting to bring that theme and ruin the mood of that moment.
Something Ivar always loved about you: you had the touch to make everything around him sound perfect even when his condition was trying to ruin his day.
"What? Did you forget Yule's night, my love?" you said, causing him to look at you completely shocked for a moment.
Was he losing something?
His eyes went to the clock, and he was sure he was late! His clock wasn't wrong. It was December 25th, night time already. Did he forget the timezone or something like that?
"Love..." Ivar started.
But you touched his lips with your index, smiling at him.
"Hvitserk was a gentleman and brought the packages last night so I could place them under the tree. The kids are anxious to open them tomorrow morning, with you, my love," you smiled. "Now, why don't you go to the living room and play with your children while I finish serving our table uh? Everything will be ready in a moment!" you completed.
Almost laughing at that frown of confusion on his face. The wrinkles becoming bigger and bigger on his forehead as the kids took him by the hand and you waved from the kitchen's door, going back inside to make the smell of the whole house change once again.
Was that eggnog???
What the fuck was happening around him?
Everything was placed in the living room for his favorite gameboards with the kids. And Siggtrigg was able to win his father for the first proud time while Ragnhild was braiding his hair the way she loved the most. When you brought the dinner, she proudly smiled at you.
"Look, mommy!"
You giggled at the sight of your husband resembling one of her dolls with his hair braided in multiple different rolls all over his head. In the end, your girl had some talent and the style wasn't that bad for him.
"Come. The dinner is served," you called, once again helping Ivar to get himself up from the ground and stand with his crutch so he could walk to your table.
"Y/N, what is happening?" Ivar mumbled beside you as the children were settling on their places around the perfect table you had prepared with all his favorite delights from Yule. "The Yule night was..."
Once again you touched his lips, preventing him from finishing his sentence.
"Come, husband. Enjoy the night," you smiled, placing a cup of eggnog in his hand and kissing his lips before going to your place at the table.
Ivar sat at the headboard.
He cut the roasted meat and helped to serve his children. He giggled with his family and enjoyed a delicious dinner. And when midnight approached, he helped you put the children to sleep and kissed them goodnight covering the two of them after the little ones were sleeping on their beds.
In years, it was the most delicious night he could remember. But Ivar came back to the living room completely taken aback. You were sitting on the couch with a smile on your face when he sat beside you, speechless.
"What is it, husband?" you asked.
A smirk on the side of your lips.
"I thought I'd lost the last night of Yule, then I thought I forgot to adjust my clock because of the timezones. Now I just don't know what the fuck just happened..."
You giggled, leaving your cup of eggnog aside to straddle his lap carefully, just adjusting yourself over his body the way he liked the most to have you closer. His hands almost automatically embraced your waist and Ivar looked up, those beautiful blue eyes still stained of the crisis, but full of curiosity and surprise, looking at you with several questions inside of them.
You nuzzled your nose to his and kissed his lips slowly, passionately, before looking into his eyes once again, caressing his face gently.
"Yule is about being with the ones we love. It's about sharing happiness and good food, and remember good moments, and live good moments, my love. It is not about one night. It's about one lifetime of nights like this and so, I thought we could produce a Yule night for you."
Everything made sense at once in Ivar's mind and a warm sensation came from that thought, flooding his chest, filling his body with that warmth.
His beautiful family had made a night for him. They all knew it wasn't Yule, but they played it with him, for him, just for the sake of having his presence and sharing that moment with him.
"I don't even know what to say," he mumbled, and so, you smiled.
"Then don't say anything, my love. Just enjoy our gift. And feel loved, my dear husband. Cause we love you. More than anything in this world."
For a moment, the whole bunch of misfortunes that had hit his life through that last week became dust in the wind. The pain of his broken bones, the anger towards his elder brother, the sadness of losing that night... Everything vanished, swallowed by the immense love in your eyes.
Ivar's thick fingers touched your face, tracing your contours. And you leaned your face into his hand, smiling and closing your eyes for a moment just to enjoy his touch.
"I am the luckiest man in this world," he mumbled. "The most blessed and most beloved by the gods. You... You and our children are the proof no man in Miðgarð can say he's more blessed than I am."
You giggled, opening your eyes to look at him.
And Ivar knew into your eyes that was the purest feeling he would ever have.
If all those misfortunes had to happen for that moment to come into his life, then he would break his leg once again, make that trip once again, stay locked in that foreign hospital one more time... Everything.
Anything...
Just to know how it feels like to be loved inside your arms.
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THE FORTY-FIVE: ST. VINCENT
Sleazy, gritty, grimy – these are the words used to describe the latest iteration of St. Vincent, Annie Clark’s alter ego. As she teases the release of her upcoming new album, ‘Daddy’s Home’, Eve Barlow finds out who’s wearing the trousers now.
Photos: Zackery Michael
Yellow may be the colour of gold, the hue of a perfect blonde or the shade of the sun, but when it’s too garish, yellow denotes the stain of sickness and the luridness of sleaze. On ‘Pay Your Way In Pain’ – the first single from St. Vincent’s forthcoming sixth album ‘Daddy’s Home’ – Annie Clark basks in the palette of cheap 1970s yellows; a dirty, salacious yellow that even the most prudish of individuals find difficult to avert their gaze from. It’s a yellow that recalls the smell of cigarettes on fingers, the tape across tomorrow’s crime scene or the dull ache of bad penetration.
The video for the single, which dropped last Thursday, features Clark in a blonde wig and suit, channeling a John Cassavetes anti-heroine (think Gena Rowlands in Gloria) and ‘Fame’-era Bowie. She twists in front of too-bright disco lights. She roughs up her voice. She sings about the price we pay for searching for acceptance while being outcast from society. “So I went to the park just to watch the little children/ The mothers saw my heels and they said I wasn’t welcome,” she coos, and you immediately recognise the scene of a free woman threatening the post-nuclear families aspiring to innocence. Clark is here to pervert them.
She laughs. “That’s how I feel!” From her studio in Los Angeles, she begins quoting lyrics from Jimi Hendrix’s ‘Red House’. “It’s a blues song for 2021.” LA is a city Clark reluctantly only half calls home, and one that is opposed to her vastly preferred New York. “I don’t feel any romantic attachment to Los Angeles,” she says of the place she coined the song ‘Los Ageless’ about on 2017’s ‘Masseduction’ (“The Los Ageless hang out by the bar/ Burn the pages of unwritten memoirs”).“The best that could be said of LA is, ‘Yeah it’s nice.’ And it is! LA is easy and pleasant. But if you were a person the last thing you’d want someone to say about you is: ‘She’s nice!’”
On ‘Daddy’s Home’, Clark writes about a past derelict New York; a place Los Angeles would suffocate in. “The idea of New York, the art that came out of it, and my living there,” she says. “I’ve not given up my card. I don’t feel in any way ready to renounce my New York citizenship. I bought an apartment so I didn’t have to.” Her down-and-out New York is one a true masochist would love, and it’s sleazy in excess. Sleaze is usually the thing men flaunt at a woman’s expense. In 2021, the proverbial Daddy in the title is Clark. But there’s also a literal Daddy. He came home in the winter of 2019.
On the title track, Clark sings about “inmate 502”: her father. He was sentenced to 12 years in prison for his involvement in a $43m stock fraud scheme. He went away in May 2010. Clark reacted by writing her third breakthrough album ‘Strange Mercy’ in 2011; inspired not just by her father’s imprisonment but the effects it had on her life.“I mean it was rough stuff,” she says. “It was a fuck show. Absolutely terrible. Gut-wrenching. Like so many times in life, music saved me from all kinds of personal peril. I was angry. I was devastated. There’s a sort of dullness to incarceration where you don’t have any control. It’s like a thud at the basement of your being. So I wrote all about it,” she says.
Back then, she was aloof about meaning. In an interview we did that year, she called from a hotel rooftop in Phoenix and was fried from analytical questions. She excused her lack of desire to talk about ‘Strange Mercy’ as a means of protecting fans who could interpret it at will. Really she was protecting an audience closer to home. It’s clear now that the title track is about her father’s imprisonment (“Our father in exile/ For God only knows how many years”). Clark’s parents divorced when she was a child, and they have eight children in their mixed family, some of whom were very young when ‘Strange Mercy’ came out. She explains this discretion now as her method of sheltering them.
“I am protective of my family,” she says. “It didn’t feel safe to me. I disliked the fact that it was taken as malicious obfuscations. No.” Clark wanted to deal with the family drama in art but not in press. She managed to remain tight-lipped until she became the subject of a different intrusion. As St. Vincent’s star continued to rocket, Clark found herself in a relationship with British model Cara Delevingne from 2014 to 2016, and attracted celebrity tabloid attention. Details of her family’s past were exposed. The Daily Mail came knocking on her sister’s door in Texas, where Clark is from.
“Luckily I’m super tight with my family and the Daily Mail didn’t find anybody who was gonna sell me out,” she says. “They were looking for it. Clark girls are a fucking impenetrable force. We will cut a bitch.”
Four years later, Clark gets to own the narrative herself in the medium that’s most apt: music. “The story has evolved. I’ve evolved. People have grown up. I would rather be the one to tell my story,” she says, ruminating on the misfortune that this was robbed from her: a story that writes itself. “My father’s release from prison is a great starting point, right?” Between tours and whenever she could manage, Clark would go and visit him in prison and would be signing autographs in the visitation room for the inmates, who all followed her success with every album release, press clipping and late night TV spot. She joked to her sisters that she’d become the belle of the ball there. “I don’t have to make that up,” she says.
There’s an ease to Clark’s interview manner that hasn’t existed before. She seems ready not just to discuss her father’s story, but to own certain elements of herself. “Hell where can you run when the outlaw’s inside you,” she sings on the title track, alluding to her common traits with her father. “I’ve always had a relationship with my dad and a good one. We’re very similar,” she says. “The movies we like, the books, he liked fashion. He’s really funny, he’s a good time.” Her father’s release gave Clark and her brothers and sisters permission to joke. “The title, ‘Daddy’s Home’ makes me laugh. It sounds fucking pervy as hell. But it’s about a real father ten years later. I’m Daddy now!”
The question of who’s fathering who is a serious one, but it’s also not serious. Clark wears the idea of Daddy as a costume. She likes to play. She joins today’s Zoom in a pair of sunglasses wider than her face and a silk scarf framing her head. The sunglasses come off, and the scarf is a tool for distraction. She ties it above her forehead, attempts a neckerchief, eventually tosses it aside. Clark can only be earnest for so long before she seeks some mischief. She doesn’t like to stay in reality for extensive periods. “I like to create a world and then I get to live in it and be somebody new every two or three years,” she says. “Who wants to be themselves all the time?”
‘Daddy’s Home‘ began in New York at Electric Lady studios before COVID hit and was finished in her studio in LA. She worked on it with “my friend Jack” [Jack Antonoff, producer for Lana Del Rey, Lorde, Taylor Swift]. Antonoff and Clark worked on ‘Masseduction’ and found a winning formula, pushing Clark’s guitar-orientated electronic universe to its poppiest maximum, without compromising her idiosyncrasies. “We’re simpatico. He’s a dream,” she says. “He played the hell outta instruments on this record. He’s crushing it on drums, crushing it on Wurlitzer.” The pair let loose. They began with ‘The Holiday Party’, one of the warmest tracks Clark’s ever written. It’s as inviting as a winter fireplace, stoked by soulful horns, acoustic guitar and backing singers. “Every time they sang something I’d say, ‘Yeah but can you do it sleazier? Make your voice sound like you’ve been up for three days.” Clark speaks of an unspoken understanding with Antonoff as regards the vibe: “Familiar sounds. The opposite of my hands coming out of the speaker to choke you till you like it. This is not submission. Just inviting. I can tell a story in a different way.”
The entire record is familiar, giving the listener the satisfaction that they’ve heard the songs before but can’t quite place them. It’s a satisfying accompaniment to a pandemic that encouraged nostalgic listening. Clark was nostalgic too. She reverted to records she enjoyed with her father: Stevie Wonder’s catalogue from the 1970s (‘Songs In The Key Of Life’, ‘Innervisions’, ‘Talking Book’) and Steely Dan. “Not to be the dude at the record store but it’s specifically post-flower child idealism of the ’60s,” she explains. “It’s when it flipped into nihilism, which I much prefer. Pre disco, pre punk. That music is in me in a deep way. It’s in my ears.”
On ‘The Melting Of The Sun’ she has a delicious time creating a psychedelic Pink Floyd odyssey while exploring the path tread by her heroes Marilyn Monroe, Joni Mitchell, Joan Didion and Nina Simone. It’s a series of beautiful vignettes of brilliant women who were met with a hostile environment. Clark considers what they did to overcome that. “I’m thanking all these women for making it easier for me to do it. I hope I didn’t totally let them down.” Clark is often the only woman sharing a stage with rock luminaries such as Dave Grohl, Damon Albarn and David Byrne, and has appeared to have shattered a male-centric glass ceiling. She’s unsure she’s doing enough to redress the imbalance. “There are little things I can do and control,” she says of hiring women on her team. “God! Now I feel like I should do more. What should I do? It’s a big question. You know what I have seen a lot more from when I started to now? Girls playing guitar.”
If one woman reinvented the guitar in the past decade, it’s Clark. Behind her is a rack of them. The pandemic has taken her out of the wild in which she’s accustomed to tantalising audiences at night with her displays of riffing and heel-balancing. Instead, she’s chained to her desk. Her obsession with heels in the lyrics of ‘Daddy’s Home’ she reckons may be a reflection of her nights performing ‘Masseduction’ in thigh highs. “I made sure that nothing I wore was comfortable,” she recalls. “Everything was about stricture and structure and latex. I had to train all the time to make sure I could handle it.” Is she taking the heels off when live shows return? “Absofuckinglutely not.”
Clark is interested in the new generation. She’s recently tweeted about Arlo Parks and has become a big fan of Russian singer-songwriter Kate NV. “I’m obsessed with Russia,” she says. In a recent LA Times profile, she professed to a pandemic intellectual fixation on Stalin. “Yeah! I mean right now my computer is propped up on stuff. You are sitting on The Gulag Archipelago, The Best Short Stories Of Dostoyevsky andThe Plays Of Chekhov. I’m kinda in it.” The pop world interests Clark, too. She was credited with a co-write on Swift’s 2019 album ‘Lover’. At last year’s Grammys she performed a duet with Dua Lipa. It was one of the queerest performances the Grammys has ever aired. Clark interrupts.
“What about it seemed queer?!”
You know… The lip bite, for one!
“Wait. Did she bite her lip?”
No, you bit your lip.
“I did?!”
Everyone was talking about it. Come on, Annie.
“Serious? I…”
You both waltzed around each other with matching hairdos, making eyes…
“I have no memory of it.”
Frustrating as it may be in a world of too much information, Clark’s lack of willingness to overanalyse every creative decision she makes or participates in is something to treasure. “I want to be a writer who can write great songs,” she says. “I’m so glad I can play guitar and fuck around in the studio to my heart’s desire but it’s about what you can say. What’s a great song? What lyric is gonna rip your guts open. Just make great shit! That’s where I was with this record. That’s all I wanna do with my life.”
More than a decade into St. Vincent, Clark doesn’t reflect. She looks strictly forward. “I’m like a horse with blinders,” she says. She did make an exception to take stock lately when the phone rang. “I saw a +44 and that gets me excited,” she says. “Who could this be?” Well, who was it? “Paul McCartney,” she says, in disbelief. “Anything I’ve done, any mistake I’ve made, somehow it’s forgiven, assuaged. I did something right in my life if a fucking Beatle called me.”
Now there’s a get out of jail free card if ever she needed one.
Daddy’s Home by St. Vincent is out May 14, 2021.
#‘I HAVE NO MEMORY OF IT’#LOOOOOL#WHY ARE U LIKE THIS#st vincent#full of shit#annie clark#Annie Clark on beds#yellow is the color for dull ache of bad penetration?
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