#it's like an introduction and a spin off (at the same time) of the au itself | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

xcamay · 7 years ago

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Hi everyone! First, let me apologize for the small delay..! To tell you the truth, I had 4pages for a Halloween fic (set in the Aqours as parents AU), but I finally changed my mind and started working on a new semi-Halloween-related fic yesterday, but it got late and I was tired and my baby cat Nola kept climbing on me to get my attention because she just wanted me to lie down in bed so she could sleep too ... And so I gave in, haha, and decided to write the last scene of this fic this morning. I really, really, really (...) really hope that you will enjoy this new AU just like I've been enjoying working on it for the past few weeks, and just like I enjoyed writing it yesterday! It's an AU that I hold very close to my heart, and I really wanted to share it with everyone so, now, I just have to pray that you will all like it a little ... :’3 Before I forget, I would like to thank @my-idol-you-chan and another friend (Entropy! I’m sorry I don’t remember your tumblr name :c) with all my heart for proofreading me, but mostly for giving me their opinion on that fic! (And for encouraging me to publish it, even if they don’t know that)

I'm kinda getting off the beaten track, as it's an AU with µ's and A-RISE. So ... No YouRiko this time, guys! :') I still love them dearly, don't worry. But I'm going to shower you with TsubaHono, EreAnju, NozoEli, RinPana, KotoUmi and NicoMaki as much as I can with it!

Warning → this is a specific AU which can have some OOC characters once in a while. I'm not fond of, um, OOCness, but it'll be needed for a few scenes sometimes here, and I'm pretty sure you'll understand why when you know what this AU is (I won't say it, I want you to discover it while reading hehe~). Oh and, despite that once-in-a-while OCCness, please know that I'll do my best to stick to all the girls' real personality! Maybe except Tsubasa, Erena and Anju, seeing as the anime didn't give many scenes with them and, so, very little detail ...

Thank you for your time, and I hope you’ll enjoy! And ... Happy Halloween, I hope you didn’t spook too many children and that you got a lot of sweets~

(Oh and! HAPPY BIRTHDAY RIN-CHAN♥)

October 31st, 07:02

“K-Kotori-chan, I-I’m sorry I’m late!”

“There there,” Kotori chuckles as she pats her panting co-worker’s –and new friend– head, “It’s all right, Hanayo-chan. We’re still on time, don’t worry.”

“B-but won’t our mentors be mad at us …?” Hanayo finally straightens up, and Kotori is surprised to see that the young woman’s cheeks have a rosy tint –did she run to get here?

“At worst, it’s the first time we aren’t here at 7AM sharp since we’ve started working here.” Kotori offers her a reassuring smile as they both walk toward the entrance of the building, “I bet we’ll be fine, Hanayo-chan.”

“Yeah …”

“And I can’t wait to see what’s planned today!” the amber-eyed girl cheerfully goes on, clapping her hands while displaying a wide smile, “I wonder what they do on Halloween, here!”

“I-I’m curious about that, too …” Hanayo lightly scratches her cheek, wincing a little, “I mean, they told us we can’t dress up for the occasion, so … Do they really do something?”

“We’re going to find out!” Kotori smiles but, as soon as they reach the doors, she stops and turns to look at her friend, the worry slightly distorting her features. “Hanayo-chan … Are you okay?”

That simple question catches the brunette off guard, who lets out a surprised ‘Eh?’.

“I mean, you still seem a little bit … Stressed.”

Hanayo instantly looks away, as if she were feeling very ashamed. She gulps and shakily sighs, “I … I never know what to expect here, even if it’s part of our job … But I do like it here, though!” Her expression is now a resolute one, which makes Kotori smile.

She knows how sensitive Hanayo is, and she clearly remembers their first day –the day they met– here, at the psychiatric hospital : before starting, they were in a room, which became their classroom day after day so their instructor could teach them the basics and some procedures ; and Kotori took a seat next to that nervous and shaking young girl. She was twisting her fingers, and sometimes went very pale during the doctors’ speech. Especially when they talked about the criminally-insane patients, who are kept in the forensic ward.

“That’s good Hanayo-chan. Let’s go, then?”

Partly reassured by Kotori’s ever-present smile, Hanayo nods her head and they both walk into the building, the excitement making their hearts flutter.

“Ah! Koizumi-san,” Hanayo holds a shriek back when she hears a voice calling for her, stopping dead in her tracks, frozen “Minami-san. You two are here,” the voice goes on, and the two friends turn on their heels.

In front of them stands a navy-haired woman, with amber eyes, clad in a white blouse, a cream-colored top and classic jeans : the doctor Sonoda Umi. As soon as Kotori sees her, her face brightens.

“Good morning, Umi-chan!”

Without a second thought, a bright red hue dusts the usually so composed doctor, who then stammers :

“R-right … G-g-good morning, Kotori-san …”

Some patients who are already walking down the corridor curiously look at them, others shoot them a weird look ; while Hanayo decides to stay silent, even if she does her best to fight her growing curiosity. She finds herself giving a polite and shy smile to every patient who happens to look at her.

“So, it’s Halloween today Umi-chan,” Kotori begins, her hands linked behind her back, “Will something special happen?”

“Unfortunately, no.” Umi shakes her head, furtively glancing around them, watching everything, “But we did plan activities related to Halloween. Speaking of, Koizumi-san,” Hanayo’s ears perk up at her name “Could you go see the patients who haven’t been checked on yet, and who have to take their medication today, and see if they want to come to this morning’s activity?”

“Y-yes, of course.”

“Here are the patients,” Umi hands her a notepad, before offering her an encouraging smile. “Um … K-Kotori-san and I are going to get everything ready, so we will wait for you.”

“H-hai!”

Pressing the notepad against her chest, Hanayo slightly bows before walking away. She doesn’t dare look back, or glance over her shoulder, fearing that if she does so, they will think she is too unsure and scared of doing that simple task all alone. And they certainly have already left, anyway. Gathering all her courage, Hanayo reads the first name on the sheet of paper … and she lets out a long and relieved sigh. Hoshizora Rin. Her firm favorite patient ; the one she gets along with very well, and the one who always makes her days brighter and brighter. She is well aware of the fact that she shouldn’t get emotionally involved with any patient –the therapists insisted on that point on her first day–, but she’s … She is human, right? So, she can’t really help it.

Before she knows it, Hanayo is already standing in front of the door leading to Rin’s room. After knocking twice, she slowly opens it, a smile illuminating her face. It grows wider the moment she sees the short-haired ginger sitting in her bed, loudly yawning, and rubbing the sleep off her eyes with a bent and closed fist –just like the paw of a cat.

“Good morning, Rin-chan,” she gently greets the patient, her tone of voice as soft as possible, as to not push her so early in the morning.

“Nyaaaw …” Another loud yawn and, at the sight of the nurse that she holds close to her heart, Rin starts kicking the cover on her legs, trying to get out of the bed as quickly as she can. “Kayo-chin, you’re here! Morning, nya!”

“Did you sleep well, Rin-chan?” she asks, letting the girl give her a quick hug –even if she knows that she shouldn’t.

“I did! I even had a dream about you, nya!”

“R-really?”

A soft and touched smile paints Hanayo’s lips as Rin, with her wild gestures, begins to relate everything in detail. It is about the two of them, some cats, a bridge over a river … Hanayo smiles and nods her head several times, still amazed at the fact that Rin has such a good memory.

“And you know, you know, the two cats who got to their feet –or should I say paws?–, they suddenly–“

“R-Rin-chan,” Hanayo carefully interrupts her, a warm and friendly smile on her face, “I have to check on other patients, you know …”

“Oh,” Rin pouts, disappointed, “… Oh but I know, nya! Can I go with you?”

“You should put your clothes on, first,” the nurse chuckles, stealing a glance at the notepad –next patient : Kousaka Honoka–, “And you have to go and take your medication, too.”

“Oh, right. Nya …”

“B-but we’ll see each other later!” Hanayo is quick to reassure her, causing Rin’s chartreuse eyes to glint, “S-Sonoda-san wants you to participate in a new group activity, and–“

“Will you be there, Kayo-chin?”

“I will. I didn’t attend a lot of group activities, so I’d love to–“

“Yay!” Rin cheers, bumping a fist in the air, “I’m going to get dressed, and I’ll see you there, nya!”

“D-don’t forget to take your medication!” Hanayo hurriedly says, earning a nod from the girl before she closes the bathroom door behind her.

Heaving a small sigh, the brunette leaves the room, knowing that she can trust Rin on putting her clothes on alone. She soon reaches a new door, but does not have time to knock that it’s already opening. She blinks, surprised, when she comes face to face with a girl who isn’t Kousaka Honoka.

“A-ah, good morning, Tsubasa-san,” Hanayo greets the chestnut-haired girl, quite unsettled. She is about to ask what she is doing in Honoka’s room, but then she remembers : these two are always together. So much that the staff and other patients nickname them ‘the lovebirds’. Director Nishikino even allowed the staff to not separate them and let them visit each other whenever they want to –‘They are each other’s medication, after all’, she once said.

“Hello,” Tsubasa says with a polite smile, “Honoka-chan is still sleeping, don’t wake her up, please.”

“But–“

As if she had anticipated what Hanayo was about to say, Tsubasa shakes her head and interrupts her, her voice gentle, “I’ll bring her her meds, and I’ll make sure she takes them, don’t worry. You can go on and see the others.”

Kira Tsubasa. As responsible and as caring as ever –especially when it comes to Honoka. She would do anything for her, and always makes sure that the smile she cherishes so much never vanishes from her joyful ginger’s face.

“Thank you very much, Tsubasa-san. Oh! Before I forget …”

“Mh?” Tsubasa lightly hums, stopping herself from taking a step forward.

“Sonoda-san is organizing something this morning. Would you like to come?” And she hastily adds, “With Honoka-chan, of course.”

“We will be here,” the emerald-eyed girl assures with a big smile –despite not spending much time with the lovebirds, Hanayo heard that they were fond of group activities, and especially the ones led by the doctors Sonoda, Ayase, Toudou and Nishikino.

Toujou Nozomi.

Hanayo gulps as she reads the patient’s name. To tell the truth … Toujou Nozomi scares her, a little. It isn’t the kind of fear that makes you freeze right on the spot, that makes your heart beat loudly in your chest –so loudly that it’s the only thing you hear–, no ; it’s mostly the kind of small and short-lived fear that you don’t know how to deal with, because you never know what to expect with her. And that, that stresses Hanayo out.

Toujou Nozomi suffers from borderline personality disorder, and she experiences bad mood swings.

Most of the time, she is a kind, considerate and happy woman, with that mysterious and spiritual aura around her. But last week put her through hell : because doctor Ayase Eli didn’t show up at work, as she caught a nasty strep throat. Her absence ravaged Nozomi’s heart and mind : she felt abandoned.

Luckily, today is supposed to be the day doctor Ayase comes back. And, hopefully, Nozomi will be fine again and will start taking her medication again. Indeed, she stopped taking it the first day Eli wasn’t here. As if it could punish her. And, more importantly, as if it could magically drag Eli here so they could see each other again. If it were possible, Nozomi would have been reassured, and they would have avoided that week full of mood swings, swearing, tears and screams.

“Please, be okay,” Hanayo whispers to herself, eyes closed, “Please, please, be okay, Nozomi-chan …”

“YOU ABANDONED ME!”

The holler startles Hanayo, who slightly jumps and freezes. Her purple eyes are widen open now, and they widen even more –if that’s even possible– the moment she sees the blonde-haired doctor in front of a closed door.

“A-Ayase-san …?”

Hanayo is surprised to see dark rings under those intense blue eyes. Doctor Ayase is still recovering, it seems.

“Hello, Hanayo.” Eli smiles at her, before wincing. “Eh, I guess Nozomi is still mad at me …”

“OF COURSE I AM! MORON!” Nozomi’s voice echoes in her room, but also in the corridor.

Eli lets out a weak chuckle, before looking at Hanayo again.

“Don’t worry, she’ll stop screaming in a few minutes.”

“I WON’T!”

“I’m taking care of her,” Eli says while ignoring the screaming patient on purpose, “I know what Umi planned. I’ll bring her, it’s just going to take me five minutes to be forgiven.” Another chuckle, and she knocks on the door. “Nozomi, just listen to me–“

As Hanayo walks away, a small and amused smile finds its way on her rosy lips –and even more when she hears Nozomi yelling again :

“ELICCHI, YOU DUMB IDIOT!”

The last patient on the list is not hard to find. Actually, even a newbie would be able to find such patient in a second before struggling to know who is in which room.

Yuuki Anju was admitted a few days ago and was placed in one of the two seclusion rooms, in which she has been staying ever since. Usually, every new patient ends up with a room, just like everyone else ; but Yuuki Anju completely withdrew into herself, which makes her … Literally out of reach. She does not speak, does not look at whoever enters the room to try to talk to her, and barely eats. The only time Hanayo heard the sound of Anju’s voice was the day she got admitted, against her will. Some security guards put restraints around her wrists and brought her here, while she was thrashing about, crying and yelling at them to let her go.

Just thinking about it saddens Hanayo.

And the young nurse already feels defeated : trying to interact with Yuuki Anju is a battle that she has already lost.

Standing in front of the door, Hanayo can’t help but glance through the square-like glass window on it –a distinctive feature of a seclusion room is that small window which allows the entire staff to know what’s going on inside. Today, just as usual, there is nothing alarming going on : Anju is here, sitting on the poor plain bed –the only furniture in this room–, tightly hugging her knees against her chest. Just as usual. She is motionless, her chin stuck between her knees and her gaze never leaves the tiled floor. Just as usual. She seems exhausted, and her lilac eyes are dull. Just as usual.

How heartbreaking …

Hanayo inhales sharply and, the moment she grabs the door handle, too many questions start flooding her mind : what is she going to say? A simple ‘hello’, and then wait for an answer which will never come? Or is she going to try to ask something interesting that will make Anju want to speak, for once? … Is she just going to give up a few seconds after passing the door, or will she succeed?

“… Good morning, Anju,” the brunette speaks once she has stepped in the room, a feeling of uneasiness creeping up and sending shivers down her spine –no answer–, “I, uh– I … I’m Koizumi Hanayo and–“

Still no answer.

“–Um, I’m a nurse here …”

The more she talks, the lower her voice becomes, slowly dying down. The lack of reply is not helping her, either. The lack of everything is discouraging : she wasn’t even able to elicit a single thing, not even a sound, a wince or a rictus. Nothing. And it has been like that since they threw her into that white room.

“I … I guess I’ll see you later …”

Hanayo discreetly sighs as she carefully closes the door behind her. What a failure … But at least, she got to check on her and she now knows that there is nothing out of the ordinary. As sad as it’s going to sound, Anju is still the same.

“Ah, Koizumi, I finally found you!” A voice suddenly breaks the young nurse’s train of thoughts. She looks up, only to see doctor Toudou’s piercing but intrigued azure eyes. “Did you talk to Anju?”

“Talking is a big word, Toudou-san,” Hanayo sighs while staring back at the ground, as if she were feeling guilty.

“… I see,” Erena says after a short pause, before she rests a sympathetic hand on the chestnut-haired girl’s shoulder. She slightly squeezes it. “Don’t let yourself get worked up, Koizumi. Let me take the helm, and go meet up with Minami and the others. They’re waiting for you.”

“All right.” Hanayo straightens up a little, and offers her superior a tiny and shaky smile. “Will you try to talk to her, Toudou-san?”

“Yes, I will. I’ve been trying since she got here, and I believe my efforts will pay off, some day.”

October 31st, 08:45

The way Kotori and Umi set up the room makes Hanayo smile the moment she shyly enters. There are six tables, all arranged to make a U-shape, which allows the patients to see and look at each other. Speaking of, all the patients she saw earlier are here : Rin, who excitedly waves at her ; Honoka, all dressed and smiling, her chair glued to the one Tsubasa is sitting on –there is absolutely no space between them. And, finally, Nozomi is also here, and she seems to feel better. Her kind and motherly smile is back, her turquoise eyes twinkle … She and Eli certainly made up, and it’s the best thing that could have happened to Hanayo today. Six other patients are here, and so there are two chairs left –maybe the others will be here soon.

Umi is quick to strike up a conversation, greeting everyone, before going on with a kind smile. At first, she asks what today’s date is, and earns a cute pout from Honoka who got the month wrong –but not the weather– (“Eeh, but I swear it’s December, it’s cold outside!”), before she agrees with Udo, a man in his thirties.

“Indeed Udo-san, it is October 31st.” She nods her head and smiles, “Which means that it’s also Halloween today.”

Rin calmly raises her hand, but her wide smile gives away her enthusiasm, “Can we have candy, then?”

Umi lightly chuckles, “No, no candy.”

“Aww,” Honoka and Rin both pout, eliciting a giggle from Tsubasa.

“But I heard that the doctors Nishikino and Toudou want to do a cooking workshop with everyone in the afternoon.”

With only one sentence, Umi was able to bring a wide smile on everyone’s face –and Kotori can’t help but silently admire her for that. She would have loved to compliment her mentor, but she knows that it would have flustered her to no end, and she wouldn’t have continued :

“I know that you all like to paint and draw, and that’s why I wanted you here today. A few weeks ago, the watercolor painting was a success, you all had fun with that, so I decided to do it again today. With the colors of Halloween, of course!” As she says this, Umi places in front of each patient two plastic cups filled with clean water, one fine brush, one watercolor paper and a plastic palette with orange, black, brown, dark green, red watercolor paints, helped by Kotori and Hanayo. “I can give you other papers if you need them, but I’ll leave you this one for now. Remember to be creative! I am eager to see what you’re going to do. You can paint something real like a flower or else, or just go with something abstract.”

A few more words, and she finally lets them begin.

Honoka immediately picks her brush before she leans toward Tsubasa, almost making their heads touch, whispering, “Say Tsubasa-chan, what can I paint?”

The emerald-eyed girl turns to look at her dearest friend, their noses ready to brush due to their proximity –and they don’t mind ; it even feels more than comfortable, for them–, “I don’t know. Isn’t there something you’d like to paint?”

Honoka glances at the paper, suddenly lost in thought. She only looks back at Tsubasa the moment the latter places her hand over hers, “It will come naturally, Honoka-chan.”

“… You!” the ginger suddenly exclaims, happily beaming.

“Me?”

“Yeah, you! I want to paint you Tsubasa-chan, because I love you!”

While Tsubasa’s sparkling eyes considerably soften and show all the love she has for Honoka, Hanayo’s heart melts as she hears their conversation.

“I love you too,” Tsubasa whispers back, resting her head against Honoka’s.

“I just don’t know how it’s going to look like when I finish it, but well …”

“Just do your best, Honoka-chan.” She smiles and combs her ginger locks, before focusing on her own blank watercolor paper.

“I will!”

A soft smile graces Hanayo’s features, but it soon disappears when she looks at Kotori, who is discreetly nodding toward Rin. Rin, who is completely engrossed in her painting –and she is progressing very fast. Sliding behind her chair, Hanayo ever-so-slightly leans over her shoulder. Her lavender eyes widen, and she feels her heart breaking. In the middle of Rin’s watercolor paper is an orangey cat, whose eyes have a lighter orange color, whose pupils are barely visible, whose dark brows are furrowed, whose mouth is open, black, and it seems like Rin did her best to leave two white triangles to represent the cat’s fangs. It seems like the cat is raging mad, and hissing.

“Say, Kayo-chin?”

Hanayo instantly freezes –Rin hasn’t even looked up from what she’s doing, wetting the paper under the cat’s head, plunging her brush into the orange spot on the palette, before letting the orange paint spread, slowly drawing the cat’s body–, and the nurse’s heart plummets in her stomach. She feels bad, very bad ; she feels as if she is invading Rin’s privacy.

“Wh-what is it, Rin-chan?”

“Will that thing stop, one day?” Rin asks, her eyes fixated on the cat she’s currently painting.

If it’s even possible, Hanayo’s heart breaks even more. Rin is the type of patient who is very conscious of her condition. She knows that has something, and she knows that it’s the reason why she is temporarily living here. She knows why she must go to the medication room every morning, and why she must take her daily medication.

She knows that she suffers from dissociative identity disorder. And, as surprising as it can be, one of her alters –and the main– is a cat. And it is haunting and hurting her.

“R-Rin-chan …” Hanayo whispers, sadness written all over her face, “Of course, it will stop …”

“Right nya!” Rin twists her upper body a little and offers her friend a rapturous smile, “That’s why I’m here!”

“Indeed …”

“Thank you Kayo-chin, nya. I wanted to hear it from you,” Rin admits, her smile never fading.

And, without adding anything, the short-haired girl focuses on her drawing again. Hanayo bites her lower lip and walks over Kotori, whose amber eyes are silently asking her if everything is okay. The brunette can barely nod, before being caught off guard by someone opening the door.

“Oh, Erena. What are you doing here?” Umi seems as surprised as the two new nurses.

“I’m sorry for bothering you, Umi–“ Erena offers her co-worker an apologetic smile, “–but can I borrow some things, please? I would like to try watercolor painting with one of my patients.”

“Yes, of course. Here, I have a few palettes ready,” Umi says as she hands one to her maroon-haired friend, “And you’ll need a brush like that and two cups. And the paper, of course.”

“Thank you.”

“Erena-san!” Honoka butts in with a chirpy voice, “Is it true that we’re going to do a cooking activity this afternoon?”

A kind smile immediately finds its way on Erena’s lips, and she nods, “Yes Honoka, it’s true. I hope you look forward to it!”

“Yeah!” The blue-eyed ginger grins and loops her right arm around Tsubasa’s shoulders, almost hitting her in the face with the tip of the brush she’s holding, “Count me in! And Tsubasa-chan too!”

“Oh, don’t worry Honoka, I knew you’d come,” Erena giggles, “I’ll see you all later then. Have fun!”

And, with all the tools in her arms, doctor Toudou leaves the room. Deep inside, Hanayo has a feeling that Erena found a new way to help Anju express herself –and she hopes, for once, that she is right.

October 31st, 10:00

The activity came to an end a few minutes ago, and Umi is now looking at all the drawings she retrieved before everyone left. Well, except Nozomi’s drawing, as she insisted on wanting to give it to Elicchi –Umi still caught a glimpse of it, and was strucked by how beautiful it was. Indeed, Nozomi drew a garden full of flowers –lilies, to be more precise–, and the colors she used just … perfectly blended. For once, the turquoise-eyed girl didn’t put what was going on in her mind down on paper. She drew her feelings –and positive feelings, this time.

That is the reason why Umi loves organizing drawing activities with all her patients : first, they can be very, very creative, and they often come up with adorable ideas. But, more importantly, she loves this kind of activity because the drawings always say a lot about their artist. And when her patients become artists, it helps her see and discover them in a new light. After all, the drawings reflect their soul. It is very common for the patients to draw what they feel –whether it be positive or negative–, but also their deepest secrets, their deepest insecurities, and their deepest fears.

Just like Rin’s drawing.

Umi winces a little as she looks at the furious orangey cat. She slowly puts it on the desk in front of her, and lets out a small sigh.

Thank goodness we’re here for them …

47 notes · View notes

vinlynce · 3 years ago

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If Elesa's apparence in hisui was during the events of the game, how would it go? Hisuian Swanna might as well be a frenzied noble as we already have H-braviary for flight and would compliment the fact that Fellow Faller:tm: Ingo is already in charge of a pokemon you use for transport in the game but if your au was in the actual game and was part of the story how would it go?

Oh this is an interesting question!! I hadn't thought about this before :thinking: hmmmm lets see! Lady Swanna's plan was that she was going to be more of a hovering over water-and diving ride pokemon since she's not quite on the same revered level as someone like Kleavor or Liligant! So the plan was for something like this-

BUT!!!! BUT. I do want to think about her frenzied bc compared to Braviary we do already have a bird! And you're absolutely right it would compliment Ingo with Sneasler! Thinking about it like she were in the game though... Hm! More thoughts under cut

I would imagine you wouldn't meet her till later in the noble quelling plot line, especially since she probably would of Just become a warden herself. Most likely right before Lord Avalugg but after lord Braviary in a newly accessible area of the Crimson Mirelands near Lake Valor in the opposite direction that Brava Arena is in. Probably through a small passage in the mountains? Think it would most likely be that unexpectedly in an overnight storm Lady Swanna got hit with one of those rift-lightning bolts that made Elesa have to leave her post. Since, being newly appointed as Warden, I imagine she would want to stay near her Lady to show her dedication to the task, explaining why she hasn't shown up in the story just yet. Most likely she would be in the Diamond Settlement! Adaman would probably meet up with the player character in town outside the Jubilife Hall to ask them a favour! Explaining that one more of their nobles became frenzied, could you help? You've quelled four before after all! Lady Swanna's new warden is still getting her bearings and is unable to quell her herself. The player would most likely go back to the Mirelands to the settlement to talk to the misplaced warden, met by...... A woman with one eye always closed who introduces herself as E! She think's the formality of calling her Warden E is a bit strange and cracks a joke about it. (Probably something about an Unknown) Similar to Ingo's introduction, I would imagine that Adaman would introduce her as someone who fell from the sky like you and one of the Pearl Clan's own wardens, which having met Ingo already, you'd know! Though, she wouldn't let him say much else then that and do the rest of the talking for herself. She's Lady Swanna's warden after all and can talk for herself! E would mention something about being in the mountains so much she hasn't had a chance to meet you yet, but is glad she gets to meet you now. See, Lady Swanna has become frenzied, and she wants to prove herself by helping her Lady out of it! In this little interaction model and text wise, I imagine she pauses a lot... Like this. Lots of commas, every few lines of text she'd look off to the side for a moment. She doesn't have the dead eyed stare that Ingo has, but there's definitely something on her mind at all times from her body language. Other times when she's focused in she wouldn't seem distracted at all, like in a battle! Speaking of battles. I think she'd challenge the player to a battle before she leads you up the mountain pass! Most likely starts the battle with the text "Let's see who's star shines brightest!" Her team would consist of four pokemon: A Pachirisu (Male, LV 50), Lopunny (Male, LV 50), Porygon-Z (LV 51), and Luxray (Female, LV 53). Defeated line might be something like "Congratulations Trainer! You made my head spin, I uh... You're no joke!" before the battle scene is exited. But the first line she responds to outside of battle would be a simple: "Trainer? Why did I say... Uh, anyways." As she shakes her head with a smile on her face. Leading you up the passage she explains that yes, she fell from the sky here and doesn't quite remember anything from before. Talking about still trying to figure out her name in this whole mess, and simply that all she remembers is E! She mentions she remembers a name she knew well, but no face to put it to. Simply: Emmet. She mentions she thought it might of been her name, but it didn't seem right, so she knew it was just the name of someone she knew. (Fun note: This works with JPN as well! Their names are Kamitsure and Kudari! So... Warden K!) I think, to parallel Ingo, she would mention remembering two small similar pokemon who would rest on her shoulders with cheeks that could conduct electricity. She thinks they might be close to Pikachu, but not quite. As well as her partner in battle, a creature with lightning on it's body able to run great speeds like a Rapidash. E mentions ever since she got here, she's always loved the pokemon who wielded lightning, and felt drawn to them more then any other!

She mentions she was actually saved by her Lady when she first arrived here, and that she wants to help her out of the frenzy less to prove herself to the clan, and more... To show how much she cares to Lady Swanna herself. Sure, she's happy and proud to be a Warden, but she's not /JUST/ a Warden. She's her own person with a bond to her Lady and it makes her sad to see her in pain. At this point it would probably be the simple story of her telling you what Lady Swanna's favourite foods are and making a basket of balms for you! But one thing, in a perfect world, I would want to see different about the fight with Lady Swanna vs the other nobles is one thing: E helps during the fight. It wouldn't be anything ground breaking, and Lady Swanna's bar would be bigger to buff it out, but Elesa would be on the field with you during the fight, attempting to throw Balms when her Lady gets close! And once stunned and put in a battle, Elesa would send out her Porygon-Z as a side pokemon on Your side! Double battles!!! It's pretty basic from there with not quite as much interaction with her after that, like the other wardens. But she thanks you for helping her save her Lady. There's probably a couple interactions from there in the form of side quests, like having to go around the Mirelands to find Lady Swanna's duckletts, where E mentions that Swanna and the Duckletts are actually familiar to her before she came here, as foggy as her memory is, she just doesn't remember them being that colour with the electric typing. That sort of stuff!! Post game wise, well, I think she shows up again in one way: The Training Grounds! Where you can fight against her full team, or in a double battle with Ingo! I imagine there would be special dialogue the first time you do this, and in a perfect world a set of quests of Elesa remembering her name, which changes her name in the rest of the game to the proper Elesa. Her team is pretty fun! Pachirisu, Lopunny, Porygon-Z, and Luxray all make a return. But on top of it she also has a female Hisuian Swanna, and in a surprise. A male Alpha Electivire! All of her pokemon are in Pokeballs except for the Electivire, who specifically isn't caught, and will be who she starts the fight with. I just think!!!! They're all neat

#pokemon legends arceus #pokemon #elesa #gym leader elesa #warden e au #hisuian swanna

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five-rivers · 4 years ago

Text

@lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks came up with this op!Danny/Marvel AU!

BTW I need help naming this newest proof that I can't keep anything to a short little one-shot.

Loki was not, and never had been, a good man. For that matter, whether or not he’d ever been a good boy was debatable. His mother would argue that he had, but she would very likely be the only one. Well, except for Thor, perhaps, but that was because he was an idiot who could drown in three inches of nostalgia. Like he didn’t remember every time Loki had humiliated him. Maybe he didn’t, for all that he kept falling for the same trick over and over again.

It made Loki’s late nights studying the arts of illusion, misdirection, and lying seem redundant. Almost. Not everyone was as dense as his big brother.

No. Loki had never been a good man. He had, however, been a free man.

Free to run or hide. Free to explore the nooks and crannies of Asgard, to uncover her secrets in ways few cared to do. Free to walk hidden paths between the Nine Realms and even farther flung territories, where his people did not and had never ruled, to play games, make deals, have adventures, take risks. To be. To exist as his own creature.

He had been free. He had.

But on one of those little secret excursions, he had discovered something that had made even his flippant, slippery heart clench with fear. A ravening plague, spreading across the stars. The death of half of everything on the horizon.

Loki was not a good man. What cause did he have to care for all the sundry others in the universe? There were too many. It was too much to ask.

But Asgard—His home, even though the had long ago realized the blood in his veins originated on very different soil. That was different.

Asgard, he could help. Asgard could survive.

But it had to be strong. It had to have strong allies. None of this barely-held peace, this enemy eternally at their gates. It needed strong leadership. Not his brother’s simplistic view and longing for the glory of war.

Loki was not a good man. But he was one who could get things done.

Before he knew it, he had burned all his bridges behind him. In one case, a literal bridge that was literally broken.

And he fell.

And he fell right into the hands of the one he had feared enough to do this. Broken enough for poison to drip into the cracks. No one knew where he was, no one could know where he was, except, perhaps, Heimdal, and Loki sincerely doubted Heimdal cared. No one was coming for him. No one was looking for him. No rescue was forthcoming.

He was alone.

Asgardians were considered gods for a reason. Their bodies and minds were much more resilient than the average mortal’s. But Thanos’s people had been titans, and there was a reason for that, too.

Thanos enjoyed breaking him.

And Loki turned his lies on himself. A skilled master of games always had one gifted opponent, even alone. Hadn’t he wanted to rule? To command? To see a world, any world, prostrate at his feet? To be given the recognition and praise of which he was so worth?

To pull something, anything, out of the fire?

(If he had spent less time learning how to spin lies and more on how to see the truth, he might not have believed it. A better, wiser, man would have. But Loki was not a good man. And he was very skilled in his craft.)

So, his new master put a weapon in his hands, and he went off to conquer a world.

Danny was used to rude awakenings. He was used to those rude awakenings being full body chills and ghosts, not someone knocking on his door.

Blearily, he pulled himself out from under the blankets. Quasi-military government facility or not, the beds were comfortable. Maybe Mom or Dad had gotten themselves locked out of their room? Or Jazz—No, not Jazz, she hadn’t come with them. She was at college, not being flown places by Mom and Dad’s suspiciously generous new consulting job.

At least it wasn’t the GIW.

He stood on tiptoe (curse his perpetually short body) to peer out the peephole. His parents’ buff, one-eyed, and incredibly imposing new boss stood in front of the door, hands on his hips, slightly sweeping back his long dark coat. If Danny listened carefully, he could hear two other people near the door, and… was that an alarm? Yes. Faint, but present, was a warning klaxon.

Okay. Danny would bet his right arm that something had gone horribly wrong with whatever his parents were consulting on. Didn’t explain why the boss was in front of his door.

Unless they’d gotten the rooms mixed up, somehow?

Ugh. Danny wasn’t paid enough to deal with this.

He opened the door. “What-?”

“Phantom,” intoned eyepatch guy with great solemnity.

Danny immediately tried to close the door. The guy stuck his foot in the jamb, and, sure, Danny could have crushed it, but that would be a jerk move. He didn’t think this guy was going for a pirate look, after all.

“We need your help.”

“I’m not sure what you think I can help you with,” yelled Danny over the beating of the helicopter blades. He’d remained stubbornly in human form. “My parents are the scientists. This sounds like a science thing. Not a punching-people thing.”

“We spoke to them earlier,” said Fury, “and we have plenty of scientists working on the theories they brought up. You’re the one with practical experience.”

“Practical experience in what?”

“Interdimensional portals,” said the woman, who had yet to introduce herself.

As if this whole thing wasn’t already giving him a bad feeling. “My parents built an interdimensional portal. Again, you should be talking to them. They’re the ones you’re paying.”

“We could pay you, too,” said Fury, “but we assumed you would want to avoid letting your parents know about this, as you’re still a minor and they have control of your bank accounts.”

Danny stared flatly. “This is blackmail.”

“We aren’t threatening you,” pointed out the woman.

“Emotional blackmail,” said Danny, glaring, daring her to challenge him on whether or not he actually knew what blackmail was.

In the meantime, the helicopter landed. Danny unbuckled and hopped out, trailing slightly awkwardly behind Fury and the woman. He didn’t want to stand out, but he suspected that, being the only kid here and being in the general vicinity of Fury, who radiated authority, that was a lost cause.

“This is Agent Coulson. Coulson, this is Phantom.”

Danny’s mouth went dry(er) at how casual the introduction was. His eyes went nervously to all the other people running around the field. With all the noise, it was unlikely anyone had heard, but still…

“Can you not? Secret identity and all? Unless you’ve told everyone herealready, which, rude.”

Fury sighed. “How bad is it?” he asked Coulson.

“We’re not sure,” said Coulson. “That’s the problem. Big fan of your work, by the way,” he added as an aside to Danny. He glanced at the woman. “Agent Hill.”

“Background?” asked Fury as he led the way into the building.

“The first energy surge was four hours ago. Dr. Selvig’s equipment picked it up – He’s the head scientist on this project.”

“Dr. Selvig isn’t authorized to test,” said Fury. “We wanted to run his plans by the Fentons.”

“He wasn’t testing. He wasn’t even in the room. He called it ‘spontaneous advancement.’”

“It turned itself on?”

“What are the energy levels?” asked Fury before Hill’s question could be answered.

“Climbing,” said Coulson.

“Mr. Fenton,” said Fury, “any comments?”

“Look, I don’t even know what this thing that you built looks like or what it’s a door to.” Danny frowned as a thought occurred to him. “You’re not expecting me to fight whatever comes out of it, are you? Because, unless you’ve got a ghost portal down there, I can’t make guarantees.”

“It’s called the Tesseract,” said Coulson. “It’s supposed to be a connection to the other side of space. A source of unlimited energy. At least,” there was a note of humor in his voice despite the evacuation taking place around them, “that’s what the scientists say.”

“A door to space?” asked Danny, firmly shoving down his excitement at the prospect. “Like, a Stargate?” It was no good, he could practically feel himself sparkling. He took a firm grip of his core and reminded himself he might need to fight before the end of the day.

“Well, no,” said Coulson. “It’s this little… cube… thing.” He made a shape with his hands.

“Oh,” said Danny, mind still whirring. “You know, if it’s really a tesseract, it isn’t a cube in just three dimensions, so bigger things could come out of it than you’d think.” He’d seen some weird portals in the Ghost Zone.

“Well, right now, we’re just getting energy.” They entered a large room with an extremely sci-fi setup. It looked like they were planning to shoot some kind of laser across the room onto a platform surrounded by strange-looking panels. There were men with guns scattered around in what was probably a well thought out formation Danny couldn’t see. There was also a dude with a bow sitting up in the rafters. He frowned down at Danny as he noticed Danny noticing him.

“Dr. Selvig!”

“Director!”

“What do we know?”

Danny allowed himself to be distracted by the centerpiece of the room, a piece of machinery built around what was indeed a little cube thing. He tilted his head and approached, trying to get a better view of it around the people in lab coats and protective gear currently swarming it. He caught mention of radiation a grimaced.

It was unlikely to kill him, but, really, everyone here should probably be wearing more PPE. You never knew what was going to come out of an interdimensional portal, after all. Except trouble. Trouble was a pretty safe bet.

It was pretty. Blue. Reminded him a little of a blue raspberry ice pop. Part of him wanted to lick it. Which was stupid. He didn’t want to wind up half what-ever-lived-on-the-other-side on top of his regular ghost nonsense.

“Mr. Fenton?”

Danny jumped and turned, refocusing on the adults, who had multiplied while he’d been daydreaming. The guy with the bow had joined them.

“Mr. Fenton? Like the Doctors Fenton I spoke to earlier?” asked Selvig.

“Yeah, it’s—”

This, of course, was when everything decided to explode. Sort of.

The blue cube shot out a beam of energy that had more than a little in common with the Fenton Bazooka’s portal setting. The beam terminated on the platform, a portal rapidly forming.

Danny slid into a fighting stance, and barely even noticed as blue energy washed over the room, throwing many less-prepared people back.

Something shaped like a man stepped through the portal.

Danny did not break his stance. Still. “An alien,” he whispered, eyes wide. If they were friendly, maybe they’d answer his questions about space. If they weren’t friendly, maybe they’d answer his questions about space after Danny beat them up.

(Danny did not go ghost. Did not even think about going ghost. There were too many people here, and the space was too open.)

Fury attempted to negotiate. Danny approved. Not everything that came through an interdimensional portal was necessarily evil.

Except this guy apparently was. Go figure. He could also deflect bullets and was very good with throwing knives, which led to Danny having to pull several of the gun guys out of their own line of fire as well as the alien’s line of knife. Who would have thought an alien’s weapon of choice would be throwing knives? The energy-blasting spear was much more in line with his expectations.

The bow guy proved to be more competent than the gun guys. This didn’t really surprise Danny. Bow guy sort of had to be competent. Otherwise, no way would they let him go around with a bow. Like, seriously. A bow.

Even so, bow guy was fighting an alien and—

“You have heart,” said the alien, raising the spear.

Danny pushed bow guy out of the way, and his mind fuzzed out.

(The human part of it, anyway.)

Loki didn’t know what a child was doing here, and he didn’t particularly care. The boy would do for a hostage, at least. He had a mission he had to fulfil, or else…

Or else.

“Please don’t,” he said turning with a shadow of his usual lazy affect, vaguely insulted that the human thought he could be sneaker that him, “I still need that.”

The human went on and on, apparently burdened with the delusion that he was on the same level as Loki.

Loki was burdened with other things. A glorious purpose. Glad tidings. Freedom. What could be better than freedom?

“A world free from what?” asked the human.

“From freedom,” said Loki, and wasn’t that what he believed, now? Wasn’t that what he’d been shown? “Freedom is life’s great lie.” He would know. He was an excellent liar. “Once you accept that, in your heart—” He batted away an arrow and tsked. “Shield me, boy,” he demanded. Had Thanos misrepresented the scepter’s powers? Or was the boy merely—

A dome of green surrounded him and the boy, thrumming with magic the likes of which he had only seen once, in a tome thrice forbidden.

“Oh,” said Loki, almost purring. “You are interesting. What are you?”

“Half human, half ghost,” replied the boy, tersely.

Loki had never heard of such a creature. No matter. He’d be sure to make good use of him.

“Grab the scientist,” he said, nodding at the balding man who had been with his brother when he’d fought the Destroyer in the desert.

Loki wanted the archer. He seemed interesting. Useful.

Fenton was under thrall. Phantom knew what that felt like. A hundred feet under red water, trying not to drown, whispers everywhere. Pulling. Pushing. Prodding.

This was different, but the principle was the same.

Neither half of him could truly ‘fight’ the other. Fenton and Phantom were a single entity. Not two in lockstep. Even so.

Fenton grabbed onto Dr. Selvig, as ordered. Phantom made sure that was all they did.

“What are you doing, boy?” snapped Loki. “Follow me! Bring the scientist.”

And so, they followed.

Loki breathed. Acquiring Barton had been the right choice. The boy was powerful, but, perhaps because of his unique biology, did not have Barton’s presence of mind, and couldn’t have led him to such wonderful allies.

Allies.

These weren’t truly his allies. Nor were they subjects. They were…

Loki forced himself to breathe. He just had to follow the mission. Follow the mission, let Thanos’s army through. He’d been promised this world. He would have this world.

And then he could be… His mind stuttered over the next word, and he shook his head, trying to drive out the painful buzz of Thanos’s herald and mouthpiece trying to contact him.

He looked up at the drones bustling around, all according to his will. Except the boy, who stared at him, somehow managing to be both utterly blank and challenging at the same time.

He was alone, here.

He was alone.

But what did it matter? Bad men always wound up alone, and Loki… Loki could never be a good man.

#danny phantom #marvel cinematic universe #avengers #dannymay 2021 #dannymay 2021 day 28: alone #dannymay #danny phantom x marvel cinematic universe crossover #op!Danny/Marvel #Not much op!Danny yet tho

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saltsprite · 2 years ago

Note

ALL THE FANFIC ASK MEMES and go in descending order from most recent works with [insert fic]

i dont know why i thought you wouldnt do this to me

@steine-druff & @ckerouac yall buckle up too here we go

(from questions for fic writers)

1. What fic of yours would you recommend to someone who had never read any of your work? (In other words, what do you think is the best introduction to your fics?) tame! it’s short, very sweet, kinda domestic, easy peasy

2. Go to your AO3 “Works” page, to the sidebar with all the filters, and click the drop-down arrow for “Additional Tags.” What are your top 3-5 most used tags? Do you think they accurately represent your writing habits? in this order, 1-5: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergent; Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot; Oral Sex; Alternate Universe - Modern Setting; Light Angst. .........yeah it me LOL

3. What are some tropes or details that you think are very characteristic of your fics? well apparently my writing is very Horny lmao but i try to switch it up regularly and explore new things, so i don’t know that i can pin down just one thing! if i really had to, i try to write like a good film that holds the camera on its actors to just let their scenes breathe and their actors act

4. What detail in [tame] are you really proud of? cobb calling grogu ‘sweet pea’ hehe <3

5. What do you wish someone would ask you about [secretary]? Answer it now! Q: is Din a little tsundere there? A: yes >;3

6. What’s one fact about the universe of [pearls before beskar] that you didn’t get a chance to mention in the fic itself? pearls are a bitch to clean ;3

7. Any worldbuilding you’re particularly proud of? i made two OCs to live in Mos Pelgo/Freetown, both completely accidentally named after towns in Texas -- a young woman named Odessa, and a big burly dude (gender-neutral) with a huge beard named Sweetwater

8. What song would make a great fic (to either write or read)? i can’t really think of any! i also don’t usually adapt things 1:1 from anything, so even when i do take inspiration from a song it’s more about the general vibe or expanding on an idea in the lyrics

9. How do you find new fic to read? i... need to get better at it ;lkdfj;ald

10. How do you decide what to write? first and foremost it has to Vibe hard enough that i can spin off from that initial kernel of an idea

11. Are you partial to a certain character/pairing or are you more equal-opportunity? If you are partial to any character/pairing, why do you think that is? i spend most of my time in DinCobb, but i am deeply fond of BobaCobb. like obviously DinCobb scratches a deep cowboy itch, but with BobaCobb, there’s just such an interesting dynamic of them both having (essentialy) worn Jango’s soul. it’s a profoundly tight thread that binds them together, reinforced by their mutual friendships with Din, that i just cannot get enough of

12. Are there any tropes you used to dislike but have grown on you? “tropes”, more like “kinks” LMAO -- which is to say, that’s for me to know and you to try and figure out while you read my smut

13. Are there any tropes you used to like but don’t anymore? really just depends on who writes it!

14. Are there any tropes you would only read if written by a trusted friend or writer? YES. anything involving a power dynamic that’s kinda icky irl (like doctor/patient). also f/f version of a m/m ship. also BobaFen.

15. What’s your favorite AU that you’ve written? that same old song and dance -- the one where Cobb and Din are both young bounty hunters hired on the same job and it goes tits-up when Cobb is accidentally drugged, and they fuck after they save each other and the drugs wear off; and then meet again in canon

16. What’s an AU you would love to read (or have read and loved)? im gonna fucken write a DinCobb Evangelion someday fuckin WATCH ME

17. What highly specific AU do you want to read or write even though you might be the only person to appreciate it? oh i already wrote that LOLLLLL my precious DinCobb Utena AU

18. If you wrote a sequel to [rabbit heart], what would it involve? take that predator trope and suplex it to break its neck by having wolf!Din become Cobb’s homemaker, so that jackalope!Cobb can come home to a happy pup of a man

19. If you wrote a spin-off of [sugar pie, honey bun(ny)], what would it involve? Fennec Shand with her fingers in her ears plotting out how much dick and pussy she’ll need to forget about this

20. If you wrote a prequel to [sweet like strawberry], what would it involve? oooohhh their first meeting, i think

21. If you wrote a “missing scene” in [once bitten, twice shy], what would it be? ch2, Raylan gets his hat back smelling like Ezra and only once he’s home and the door is locked he’s shoving his nose into the sweatband to huff Ezra’s smell and try not to jerk off about it (and fail)

22. Who is your favorite character in [four times lucky] and why? Boba Fett LMAO cheeky bastard <3

23. What’s a trope, AU, or concept you’ve never written, but would like to? lovers to enemies >:]

24. Are there any easter eggs in [take my revolution], and if so, what are they? as im typing out “ah jeez i don’t even use easter eggs” i am reminded that i am a stinky liar, i absolutely put Kaoru Miki and Himemiya Anthy in my Utena AU fic. i was gonna have a scene where Utena herself appears but i could never figure out how to do it gracefully so i gave up on that (because the trick to AUs is actually to change the AU to fit the characters, not to change the characters to fit the AU, so if i can’t do it gracefully then it’s a sign that the idea is shit)

25. What other websites or resources do you use most often when you write? Wookieepedia, thesaurus

26. Would you rather write a fic that had no dialogue or one that was only dialogue? oh fuck these are both good challenges,,,,,,, at this point i’d say “fic that’s only dialogue” for the challenge

27. How long did it take to write [the ground you walk on]? Describe the process. aka the one with the Boot Stuff. process was to 1) watch Cobb Vanth’s glorious return in TBOBF 2) get horny as fuck 3) whip this out in like a day in a fervent fugue state

28. Does anyone read your fics before you post them? If so, who? hahahahaha i never beta :’)

29. What songs would be (or are) on a playlist for [shrouded]? Explain your choices if you want! beautiful stranger, by halsey; want to be missed, by hayley kiyoko. idk why but the sapphics tap into a level of gay yearning that nears divinity for me

30. Have you ever written something that was out of your comfort zone? If so, what was it, and how did it affect your approach to writing fic thereafter? ohhh definitely my 34k DinCobb Utena AU, so far. it taught me that outlines are what drive your story, if you don’t have an outline to fish-bone off of you’re gonna have a bad time

31. What’s your ideal fic length to write? 4k-ish? max

32. What’s your ideal fic length to read? tbh my upper limit is about 30k these days. not everything needs to be 100k!

33. If you write chaptered fics, what’s your ideal chapter length to write? Is it different from your ideal chapter length to read? this is so subjective based on the overall length of story haha but i usually only do oneshots

34. What aspects of your writing are inspired by/taken from your real life? any cats named Rusty, parental issues, anything a character does out of Responsibility

35. What aspects of your writing are completely unlike your real life? first of all they’re fictional space DILFs, my complete and thorough opposite,

36. Do you visualize what you read/write? YES, it’s the second step in the process. step 1, VIBES. step 2, SEE IT. step 3, ATTEMPT TO DESCRIBE

37. Promote one of your own “deep cut” fics (an underrated one, or one that never got as much traction as you think it deserves!). What do you like about it? y’know what? i think i’ll do a couple. 1) waste not -- far as i know im the first to use the Virgin Cobb Vanth tag and you best believe i am smug as shit about that. he’s a lone wolf!! Mos Pelgo isn’t a place for him to live, it’s a place to protect!! 2) that same old song and dance -- it’s mentioned elsewhere in this post but i’ll plug it here again just because it was so much fun to write and i want people to like my dumb children

38. Did any of your fics get surprisingly popular (whatever that means to you)? Which ones? Why do you think they were so successful? salt in the wound, maybe! my first BobaCobb. i remain surprised that BobaCobb is so rare as it is, given the incomprehensibly intricate ways in which canon now binds these two together. but i think i was one of the first(ish) writers to feel like they needed their own fic space, and not just be in the background as leftovers from other pairings

39. Is any aspect of your writing process inspired by other writers or people? If so, who? everyone who mentioned that outlines help them write <3

40. Do you tend to reread fics or are you a one-and-done kind of person? ohhhh i reread. i likes my comforts foods :3

41. Link a fic that made you think, “Wow, I want to write like that.” that’s what you’re good at, by ghost_teeth like.......... shit, fam.

42. Have you ever received a comment that particularly stood out to you for whatever reason? ohhhhh, yes. a very sweet reader once said they liked my take on Din Djarin so much, they’d want me to write a whole novel of him TT^TT <3

43. If you take/write prompts: what’s your favorite prompt fic that you’ve written? n/a

44. If you take/write prompts: do you prefer dialogue or scenario/narrative prompts? n/a

45. What’s something you’ve improved on since you started writing fic? pacing, i think, and being willing to let go of scenes that might not entirely fit

46. Do you prefer writing on your phone or on a computer (or something else)? Do you think where you write affects the way you write? pc for sure. i can write on my phone, but i prefer a keyboard. feels like the ideas come out faster on keyboard!

47. If [da capo (or: to the beginning)] was a pair of shoes, what kind would it be? Describe the shoes. the shoes you bought for an occasion that you didn’t think you’d like all that much, but are now part of your usual rotation

48. What’s the last fic you read? Do you recommend it? Hallmark Meeting! it’s cute and deliciously smutty

49. What are you currently working on? Share a few lines if you’re up for it! i’m gonna try my hand at some original long fic that i can hopefully shop around! I don’t think. I kiss him. Or, rather: I tumble head-first into the sweet cavern of his mouth. By the flat of his tongue, he tucks me into the space where his top front teeth meets his soft palate and holds me there, safe and secreted. He holds me there, across my cheek, at my waist; he is the bank of my river, guiding me to flow into his lap. A blessing, his hands. Diligent, his kiss.

50. Answer any question of your choice, or talk about anything you want to talk about! there needs to be more anime in Mandalorian fic, and i mean that in ways i cannot fully articulate. like,,,,,,, not anime AUs necessarily but themes and storytelling styles and tropes more common in non-Western media

#fanfic #ask meme #questions for fic writers #dincobb #ao3 #bobacobb #salt fic

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serenityseventeen · 3 years ago

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Dino (이찬):

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“Man in a Movie”

synopsis: Chan is the CEO of Dino Films, one of the top movie-making companies. You are a hotel housekeeper who dreams of having a job within the film industry, and Lee Chan is your role model. To settle two contracts, Chan has to travel and stay at a hotel for two months. A hotel that you work for.

parts: one | two | three | four | epilogue

genre: ceo au, hotel au, romance, based on dino's esquire pictorial

warnings: mentions rude customers, rude hotel guests, belittling someone else's job, accusations of stealing, a bit of profanity

characters: ceo!chan x hotel housekeeper!fem!reader, ft. housekeeping manager!jeonghan, front desk clerk!reader's friend!joshua, barista!wonwoo, secretary!seungkwan

word count: 5,228

a/n: The whole story is not done yet; I have just a bit more to go but I think the first part should be finished and I thought that I should post it! This one is going to be split into many parts since it's quite long (currently it's 13k but I believe it'll be over 15k in total). The beginning is quite slow-paced though as it gives quite a big bunch of background and introduction to the characters ^^ + I feel like a genius for connecting this one with the barista Wonwoo one- it feels like this one could be the main story and the Wonwoo one could be a spin-off even though the Wonwoo one came first lol + gif credits: (usually I have no clue who creates the gifs that I use but this time, since the gifs I wanted were specific, I know who created it) @woozi

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Chan was exhausted.

His body was worn out and his intelligent brain was drained of mind power. He just wanted to settle down and go to bed and call it a night. With so much to do at company headquarters, then having to fly over to a different country to settle a few deals and contracts, Chan was ready to pass out.

The main purpose of this business trip was so that he could sign an investment contract with an advertising company, along with a production business. He doesn't know how long the negotiations would take but from the looks of it, both contracts weren't going to be easy to sign. He tried to settle over a phone call, but it didn't end well.

“Have you arrived at the hotel yet, Chan?” Seungkwan asked. His tone sounded concerned for the younger CEO but at the same time, he sounded somewhat mischievous.

“I'm right outside of it, I didn't know the hotel would be by the sea. You're sure you booked 60 days, right?” Chan replied, his phone held between his shoulder and head that pressed it down.

The wind blew by softly against Chan's arm. The shirt he was wearing was tan, buttoned-up, thin, and short-sleeved with little snowflake-like black circles dotted on it, making it a comfortable summer shirt. Some may have thought he was an idol rather than the boss of a film company based on how casually he dressed. Of course, he was just joking with that thought.

Seungkwan, who was on the other line, was Chan's trusty secretary and one of his bestest friends. He's only a year older than Chan. Ever since day 1, when Chan became an entrepreneur and founded his business, Seungkwan was there to lend a helping hand. Founding a business was not easy and even through hardships, he tried his best to help Chan become a bigger film business. For the sake of helping Chan's business grow, Seungkwan began to study business as well, instead of chasing his dream of being a singer. Now, look at them, successful to the heavens but still the most chaotic duo.

“Why are you speaking to me like that? Did you forget that I'm your boss?” Chan joked. He placed his hand on the door handle and walked through the entrance of the hotel, his suitcase leaving a crusty sound as the wheels rolled against the sidewalk, before smoothing out as Chan dragged it into the hotel lounge.

“Goodness, sometimes I regret that you were the CEO and representative instead of me.”

Chan chuckled as he walked down the large, sleek lounge. The floors were wiped squeaky clean and it was large but emptier than he thought. It almost felt like he could hear his own voice echoing in the distance.

“I'm arriving at the front desk, so I'm hanging up, Seungkwan,” Chan said, bringing the expensive, glistening phone into his hand. There was a crack on the screen, a nice, clean line down one corner and stopping at the middle of the side.

“Okay then, Mr. Lee, get a lot of sleep. Next week, you have some deals to make. I've already arranged the meeting plans for that, I'll send you the company profit files I compiled via Email,” Seungkwan let out a soft sigh. “Get some rest, Chan. You've worked hard today.”

Chan almost laughed but the unsettling silence of the empty lounge being filled with only his voice made him quite uncomfortable. He didn't want to laugh too loudly or even talk normally because that would seem to draw all of the attention onto him. Instead of a spirited laugh, he only chuckled dryly.

“What's with your sudden change of words?? Do you miss me or something?” Chan playfully asked, grinning. Seungkwan, to Chan, was like a brother that always cared and looked out for him.

“What do you mean?? You're making me feel like I never say these things!” Seungkwan replied from the other line. Chan could already feel his secretary's blood beginning to boil. For some reason, Chan always found it amusing to joke around like that with Seungkwan and his other brother-like best friends.

“I was just kidding. Sleep tight, Seungkwan hyung, you also worked hard today.”

“Whatever, I love you, you punk. Go to sleep soon.”

Chan nodded habitually and hung up the phone, coming to the front desk. The clerk was a man and he looked pretty laid-back, he was typing something onto the computer, not seeming to have noticed that Chan had walked in.

The lounge was luxuriously decorated, with large historical and abstract paintings in an old-fashioned bronze frame. The walls were brown with some parts being decorated black. The ceiling light reflecting amongst the interior made the place glow orangish with a retro vibe, but at the same time, gleam with elegance.

Chan couldn't help but admire the fine man's features. From the look of it, the man seemed a few years older than Chan but looked deceivingly young. He had double eyelids and big, beautiful eyes that twinkled as if they held the stars, full lips, a beautiful, slim nose, and sharp jaw. His black hair was shining healthily and his skin was glowing too.

When the man finally realized that Chan was standing there, he stood up and apologized, explaining that he was caught up in something, which was an obvious no-brainer.

Chan quickly read the man's name tag, ‘Joshua’, and gave a gentle smile while waving his hand reassuringly. “Nothing to apologize for.”

Joshua, the front desk clerk, was wearing a neat black dress shirt. His hair was slicked back, leaving a few strands to cover his forehead. He had his hands in front of him, posing respectfully as he asked, “Are you here to book a stay? Or have you already made a reservation, sir?”

Even his voice was gentle. Chan found himself feeling somewhat envious of Joshua's visuals. He was a glowing god, no wonder he was the man at the front desk. His visuals were mesmerizing and his voice was as calm as a breath of fresh air. Chan considered whether or not to give him his business card and possibly recruit the man as an actor, but didn't push through with it in the end because that wasn't his main purpose for this trip.

“My secretary had booked a VIP stay for two months at this hotel. My name is Lee Chan,” Chan said.

The man sat back down and Chan wished that the process would go by quicker. Time was ticking and his brain was telling him that he needed rest soon.

“Here is the key card, your room, and floor number, and your guest ID,” Joshua said, sliding the two pieces of paper and smooth, plastic card across the wooden counter. “Let me explain the hotel room and floor numbers to you-”

Before he could finish, the phone rang.

Of course, he couldn't just ignore the call. Chan could tell from the look in Joshua's puppy eyes that it was from a customer. Joshua quickly apologized and picked up the phone only to be met with screams loud enough for Chan to hear, even though the phone wasn't on speaker mode.

Growing impatient, Chan waited for a minute or two, one side of his body leaning against the counter, holding the card with two of his fingers. Antsy, he tapped the key card against the wood of the front desk, going tak tak tak.

When he was sure that the man's conversation with a hotel guest wasn't heading anywhere, Chan looked down at the paper that read:

“HOTEL ROOM: 317

GUEST: LEE CHAN

ID: 05262015”

Like every other hotel, Chan assumed that the first number was the floor, and the second would be the room number. Chan looked up and glanced at Joshua, who was busy writing demands down into a small notebook.

Without a word, Chan swiped the papers and key card into his pocket, took his suitcase, and walked away, his fancy shoes leaving soft footsteps echoing against the marble floor, the rolling sound of his suitcase following behind him as he walked.

There were two people in the elevator already and they waited for Chan without quickly closing the doors. Chan got into the elevator, where another woman also got on after. They didn't look like they were a new temporary resident but instead seemed like they were familiar with the place already.

The elevator ascended toward the second floor at which the woman that came in last pressed. The other two were heading to floor 4.

The way up was smooth and fast.

Once the woman left the elevator, her heels clicking as she walked down the corridors, Chan was getting ready to close the doors when he heard the shouts of someone.

His hand froze and hovered above the 'close' button. The other two seemed a bit confused as to why he was not pressing the button but they didn't seem to mind. From the corner of Chan's eyes, he could tell that their small glances at each other were enough to pass the time and block out all kinds of noise. The elevator still had a few seconds before the doors would close and Chan's ears couldn't help but pick up an argument happening.

Right down the hallway, one of the hotel room doors was half-opened, and a woman with short curly hair and arms crossed was shouting at one of the hotel staff, who weakly took the screams, head hung low and hands held tight. The woman seemed to be in her mid-thirties and her entire body was decorated in riches; from head to toe, she was wearing luxury brands, some of which were partners with Chan's famous film company.

The argumentative shouts from the woman were loud and Chan could catch a summary of what it was about. The next sentence from the lady in her mid-thirties was enough to describe it all.

“I know you're lying, you little, dirty, pathetic, thief!”

The doors of the elevator were beginning to close.

Chan sighed with clenched fists. He didn't want to get involved in anything like this since he didn't know the truth to anything. However, hearing those disrespectful insults from a customer, Chan could recall the moments in his youth that he spent getting yelled at by his clients and customers for things he did not do.

Even though Chan was still an unbelievably young man for a CEO position, the days he spent getting yelled at by his customers for ridiculous reasons might have counted to at least two years. He devoted his life to working, earning money to build up the life he had now, and of course, to achieve that, he had to tolerate bullshit sometimes.

Sometimes, he felt like a punching bag, being used by his customers to make them feel a bit more delighted to live their own lives. Even if he allowed people to push him around as they liked, even when he could have fought back, he didn't complain about anything. Fighting back had earned him nothing but getting fired when arguably, he wasn't the one in the wrong.

He knew how it felt and he wasn't going to let it brush past him like the wind that would leave him unbothered. Words like that were sometimes like tsunamis or tornados to the chest.

Chan reached out his hand, sticking it between the doors that were less than half a foot away from locking shut. The doors opened and with his suitcase being dragged behind him, Chan walked over to the commotion, one of his hands tucked inside the pockets of his jeans to hide his raging fist.

“I'm sorry,” Chan said, sounding calm but sharp at first. “but please don't say that.”

The hotel housekeeper continued to bow her head.

The woman scoffed annoyingly, her arms still crossed. Chan could tell that she was full of herself, confident, and stubborn from her gruff tone. “Young man, you're not even a part of this, why don't you get lost? Do you know what this filthy maid did? She stole my expensive 5 million dollar clam necklace! So before you speak-”

Just as she was about to snap some curse words at Chan, she stopped to get a better look at his face. She leaned in a bit closer and, disgusted, Chan took a few steps backward. He glanced at you, the hotel housekeeper who was taking all the hits without fighting back, then turned to the woman again.

Contrasting her rude behavior before, she smiled warmly and held out her hand.

“Wait- are you Lee Chan? The CEO of Dino Films?” The woman's husband walked up from behind, peeking his head out at the mention of Chan's company and name. “God, we are super huge fans of your films! The artistic cinematography is beautiful! We are beginner movie critics, you see.”

Chan didn't know how to react at all. He was left speechless at the woman's behavior. All he could do after a moment of silence was glance at the housekeeper, who was suddenly gazing at him with sparkling, beaming eyes.

Chan sighed and placed the hand that was in his pocket before on his hips, deciding to just ignore that they were fans of his work. “Please... don't act this way toward the hotel staff. They are in no way less than you as a human being. Even if they did-”

Just then, there was an excited shout from what sounded like a little boy, coming from inside the hotel room. “Mom! I found a clam on the sink! It's so shiny!”

Chan sighed again, unable to believe that he just wasted his time on something so stupid. Even with good intentions, maybe it wouldn't have changed anything if he didn't get involved. So, he decided to quickly finish up his sentence. “In this case, they did not steal. Please don't falsely accuse an employee. If you have a complaint, please, tell the hotel manager about it. There is not only one hotel housekeeper here, please be respectful and mind your words.”

The woman turned to Chan. “Look, this is still none of your business. You can quickly leave before I rate one of your movies poorly. I don't want to be engaging in an argument with a director I love.”

Chan wanted to laugh.

“The consequences for creating a problem with me is much larger than what you assume, ma'am, plus, one bad review would make the overall reviews more realistic,” He replied, grabbing his suitcase again, and ignoring the woman's prior comments. “One last thing, if you disrespect this hotel worker, or any hotel worker again, you'll be aware of the consequences that have to be dealt with, right? I don't care what happened, it was disrespectful for you to say those things. I don't care who you are, I know, I can win it.”

Chan didn't even wait for a reply. In the hurry he already was in, Chan headed back to the elevator, pressing the button to the third floor, and closing the doors. The woman didn't seem to know how to reply, because she probably knew, in a world like this, power overcomes everything. Chan, when he was just a flower bud, didn't want to use power to win things over. Sometimes, nothing would change unless another customer got involved, and he would be that customer, helping out the wronged staff.

However, now that power was given to him and he was one of the top film-producing companies, he could almost get anything he wanted. Almost everything could go his way because he was rich and his company created movies and dramas that the majority of the public audience liked. He never wanted to use it, but now, he could only use it during times like that. Even if he tried his best to point out the wrong, people wouldn't realize it until he brought up his power.

While the doors were closing, through the gap of the closing elevator doors, Chan caught a glimpse of you, who was staring at him with fascinated, scintillescent eyes. It was like everything was in slow motion. It looked as if you were in awe. He wondered if you could be one of his fans too.

Chan shook away the thoughts. He didn't know why you were looking at him like that and he was in too much of a hurry to get to bed than think about it.

He quickly assumed that you just felt thankful.

Upon arriving at the third floor, which was only a short ride up the elevator, the doors opened to reveal the hallway. What caught his eyes first was the ceiling. Even though he had seen many ceilings like it before, he was still fascinated. The hallway reminded him of vintage decor and the dim lighting made him feel as if he was in one of his future films.

As Chan walked down the hallway, he couldn't stop looking up at the ceiling. The ceiling lights were built in a pattern, there was average white, flat space, and then, similar to upside-down stairs, the corridor ceiling would shift to be slightly higher, then turned average again. The ceiling light was wrapped with a round, white with brownish strokes cover, allowing the light to fall dim, making the atmosphere somewhat eerie.

The floor was carpeted with a colorless tan and floral patterned carpet that led down the hallway. Chan had one hand in his pocket and one hand dragging his suitcase as he walked down the corridor. Attached to the walls were lamps as well, to help give a bit more light in between the spaces that would have been too dark.

After turning a few corners, walking a few paths, taking around 10 minutes in the maze-like corridors, Chan came across the room that he needed to be in. His hotel room, 317.

He was a bit surprised at the complexity of the hallways, but even so, Chan let out a relieved sigh and reached inside his pocket, getting out the key card. When he swiped it to unlock the door, Chan initially thought that the way he inserted the card was lacking in some way. However, minutes continued to waste away as Chan continuously tried inserting the card in any way he could, only to get the same denying beep.

Confused, Chan began to wander around. It took him long enough to find his stated hotel room, Chan could only wonder how much longer it could take until he found his way out from this complicated floor. Chan had always been terrible with directions and sometimes when he was focused, his memory would be great. For times like these, he let his guard down that something like losing his way around a hotel floor would happen.

Chan was slightly pissed and the silence on this floor, contradicting the 2nd floor, was growing annoying as well. Chan could only sigh as he turned around and walked the way he believed to have come from. He wasn't in an exactly bright mood anymore to be looking at the ceiling, so he only walked forward with his head forward. Occasionally, he would glance over at the lamps glued to the wall.

He had to find his way out. Chan had to, his legs were killing him, and as if he didn't arrive late at night enough, here he was, at 11 pm, lost in the corridors of the hotel's third floor.

‘Why does there have to be so many rooms? I thought Seungkwan booked me a VIP guest room?’ Chan wondered frantically, slowing down the pace at which he walked, eventually coming to a complete pause beside a lamp. Chan brought his hand to his temple and began massaging it. He wanted to burst out into laughter but all that could escape his lungs was a wry chuckle at the irony. ‘One of the top film production company CEOs gets lost in a hotel while thinking he was going to get to sleep... that surely is amusing.’

The false accusation from earlier was still making your blood boil but you knew, based on what the hotel housekeeping manager Yoon Jeonghan always repeated that you would never be able to do anything about it, no matter how rude or disrespectful they were.

“You must always cave into the guests' requests,” Mr. Yoon would say, his hands on his hips. “If you can't, just apologize quickly and offer another solution. I don't like rude customers either, but we can't do anything about them. We must, as a 5-star, keep our reputation golden. You don't want our hotel to be on the news because you yelled back or fought a guest, right?”

You could only sigh. Sticking up for yourself was not an option and though your co-workers were all caring, they all become losers and pushovers in front of customers, though you knew they badly wanted to argue back. At first, you were a bit uncontrollable. You absolutely hated it when someone pitied, looked down on, or pushed you around so you would always stand up for yourself. Oh well, lesson learned, the world just moved that way. You couldn't do anything for the sake of reputation, money, and customers.

However, now, you've gotten used to it. Words that came from filthy mouths often got brushed off sooner or later and you were not the type to hold a grudge against a stranger.

There was a little ding as the elevator doors opened. You were doing an extra cleaning shift for extra money. It did not involve cleaning the hotel rooms but more like that hallways and walls, check if there was any gum, all that stuff. You were basically a janitor at night and a hotel housekeeper in the daylight, but you always wore your black and white hotel housekeeper uniform.

You pushed your cart through the third floor and turned a few corners and walked over to room 313, where you saw a man. He didn't seem to realize that you were behind him and continued walking while muttering things, and based on what you read from his lips, it sounded like curse words to himself.

You stared a little at him skeptically before your eyes widened in realization. He was dragging a suitcase and his hair was slightly disheveled. His figure was familiar and you recognized the denim jeans he was wearing, paired with that tan button-up shirt with strange circles.

You felt like squealing. You pushed your cart to one of the storage rooms and quickly went to find the man again.

He was easier to find than you thought. When you found him, he was staring at the ceiling, one hand in his pockets, the other resting by his side. His suitcase sat down beside him and you didn't know how long you looked at him. It was like a scene from a movie. You knew that Mr. Lee Chan would definitely make something like this. A shot from where you were would have been a great inclusion if he was shooting a movie now.

You were a huge fan of him. He was your biggest inspiration and motivation. You admired him so much.

You quietly cleared your throat and with gentle footsteps, you walked toward him, calling out softly, “Hello? Mr. Lee?”

He didn't reply. You walked close enough to pat his shoulder and heard him muttering to himself, “You're such an idiot, Chan. Why must you be so bad with directions? Just exactly who would get lost in a hotel? A CEO like me? Oh right, I'm Lee Chan, a CEO.”

You held in your laugh. This CEO was definitely cuter than you imagined. You recalled the many times he seemed so fierce, serious, sharp, and cold, from interviews, press conferences, behind the scenes, clips of whenever he was at work, and the instance from before. Who knew a charismatic CEO was bad at directions and got lost in one of the smallest floors of a hotel?

You found it adorable.

“Excuse me,” You said, bringing your finger to pat his shoulder. He jumped in surprise cutely and turned to you with a bow, in which you returned. “Do you need help with something?”

Chan seemed to recognize you as the girl that was getting yelled at around 30 minutes ago as well. He looked at you and you could tell he was hesitant to say what he needed to say.

Finally, he let out with a small stutter, “Do you know where room 317 is?”

You nodded because you had memorized where every room was during your 7 months of working at this luxurious hotel. “Of course but it's not on this floor. Didn't the guy at the front desk tell you about how the numbering works for VIP rooms?”

Chan smacked his lips together and dryly smiled, avoiding your twinkling eyes. “I was in a bit of a hurry and he was on the phone with someone so I left.”

Upon hearing his short but reasonable explanation, you gave him a friendly smile that made Chan feel a bit more comfortable and reassured.

“Well, that's okay. I'll show you where your room is. The rooms on floors 2-4 are pretty small. The higher you go up, the bigger the rooms get,” You explained, walking forward and gesturing with your hand for Chan to follow. You had to keep yourself under control. Right now, you were in the presence of your role model, who had also defended you from a false accusation earlier. Were you the most successful fangirl? Possibly.

Fangirling aside, you continued to explain as you two came to the elevator. “A lot of celebrities from all kinds of fields come to this hotel and to prevent fans from invading the privacy of these celebrities, we try to keep it confidential that the floor numbers are switched for those who book a VIP room. So, anyone who is on floors 5 through 8 often has their number switched. I'm still a bit confused on whether or not it was a smart idea, but everyone else seemed to like it.”

Chan nodded, though inside, he was only partially listening and he felt a bit embarrassed at how easily you exited the maze-like hallways of the third floor when he spent nearly half an hour just lost in the halls.

You two arrived on the 7th floor and you guided him to room number 31. The conversation in the elevator was short-lived and because you were nervous, being around Mr. Lee Chan for the first time, you couldn't speak properly sometimes even though you badly wanted to.

As you two were walking down the hallway, you finally said, “I really like your films, Mr. Lee.”

Your hands were shyly clasped in front of you as you two walked at the same pace, side by side, your feet leaving pit-pat echoes. The 7th floor was designed similarly to the 3rd, but there was a noticeable difference in the number of rooms. From up here, he could see the dark, nearly midnight sky from the small window across the straight hallway.

“I also didn't say this earlier but thank you for helping me get out of the problem I had with that guest...” You finally said. Walking alongside your idol had made your brain malfunction and only now, you realized that you should have thanked him sooner.

Chan shook his head humbly. “It's nothing.”

He was in a hurry to sleep but for some reason, he didn't want to send you away and walk by himself. He liked the pace at which you two were taking steps. Rhythmically, your right foot would step out when his did, and your left foot would take a step when he did as well.

“I'm wondering... why did you help me? Was it because you thought it was the right thing to do?” You asked, looking at him.

He glanced forward but then lowered his head again, fascinated by your matching walking pace, while not hesitating to reply. “Yeah. I know how it feels to be falsely accused of something or be used by customers to let out their anger. I don't ever want to see that kind of language being thrown at staff like you, if anything, they wouldn't blame you but call the manager.”

You nodded, smiling gently as you two walked. You could see his room ahead, which made you want to slow down so that you two could share a bit more conversation. Gradually, you began to slow the pace, not realizing that Mr. Lee Chan's footsteps were continuing to match with yours even after the change.

“What films are your favorite?” Chan asked without realizing, his eyes focused on your cadence feet. The words had escaped his mouth and rolled off his tongue as if he had been wanting to ask that question all along. When he did come to realize that he said something, you were already answering his questions with glee.

“I like all of them but your first film forever stays in my heart! ‘Danceology’ was such a moving, heart-wrenching movie, it was the most beautiful masterpiece I'd ever seen!” You exclaimed, your eyes beaming with enthusiasm. Chan looked up at you and couldn't help but smile. You paused in front of a door, which he noticed was room 317.

“I was really touched by your acting... though it was your first project, you did a really beautiful job of acting out the emotions, I remember that I cried a river on my sweater when I watched that movie in the theater!” Your eyes met with Chan's and your heart skipped a beat but you continued, excited about the topic of his movies. “But what I love the most is the cinematography of the movie! I heard that you directed and wrote the movie yourself with the help of a few friends, I really admire you for that, Mr. Lee!”

Chan smiled, flattered by your words. He did have thoughts after he finished a film, usually thoughts like “this one was filmed beautifully” or “this one was acted out nicely”. However, even when movie critics told him he did well and his movies became hits, he never felt as happy as he did now and on the day his first movie won an award.

There was just something about your genuinely excited expression and passion when you spoke that drew him in. Your charming voice made him want to watch his first film again.

You rambled on and on for who knows how long but Chan didn't insert his key card. You forgot about the fact that you were doing an extra cleaning shift and got caught up in the conversation with Chan, and Chan, who was initially tired, suddenly wanted to stay up all night talking.

There was just something about the way you spoke spiritedly that drew him in. There was just something about the way your hands moved messily whenever you were explaining a scene you loved; something about the way you didn't stop smiling at all, like his movies gave you pure happiness.

There was just something about you.

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request: *I changed it so that Chan would be a CEO instead of an idol*

time finished: I don't remember lol since I wrote it all at once (including the upcoming parts that still need revision)

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azucanela · 4 years ago

Text

SKIN DEEP DECEPTION

PAIRING: TSUKISHIMA KEI X READER [SOULMATE AU]

SUMMARY: In a world where the number of lies your soulmate tells each day is written in your wrist, Y/N has found that her soulmate has two moods. No lies, or dozens at a time.

WARNINGS: CURSE WORDS (WH*RE). ANGST. MILD VIOLENCE.

WORD COUNT: 4K.

A/N: happy anniversary? marriage? engagement? @bbykutos <3 this is my first time writing an au so pls lmk how i did and uhhh idk i feel like this is bad

HAIKYUU!! MASTERLIST

IN A WORLD FILLED WITH LIES only one person knew when you were really telling the truth. That person being your soulmate. Though it’s not always a lover, that tended to be the most common occurrence when it came to soulmates. The whole point of soulmates had been to have someone perfect for you, though this wasn’t always the case of course.

Growing up, Y/N had always viewed soulmates as a false ideal, a distant fantasy, though the number on her wrist was confirmation enough that soulmates existed— that didn’t mean they were truly meant to be.

She’d learnt that the hard way.

At times, kids would find their soulmates in their first year of school; which normally went either really well or really poorly. Others in high school, college, some mundane moment at a coffee shop or a more dramatic one at one of the biggest moments of their lives. Sometimes it was romantic, other times it was chaotic, or just plain dull. Most of the times finding your soulmate meant catching them in the midst of a lie... several times. Sometimes people found love, an enemy, or... they just found their soulmate.

Y/N wasn’t the only person who’d become rather apathetic towards the whole idea, though there was no denying the small part of her— in the back of her mind, the part she’d tried so hard to bury— that hoped, that wished, that dreamed of a soulmate who cared for her.

And yet, even her own parents were an example of this false ideal.

Not that it mattered, seeing as she was yet to meet her soulmate. There was no reason to dwell on it, that had become abundantly clear to Y/N, and yet here she was, allowing her mind to wander as she stared— maybe even glared— at her wrist in class.

“I need to use the restroom.”

The word’s pull her out of her daze, eyes rising back up to the board where her teacher stands— smile on her face as she replies, “of course! Go on ahead.” Y/N’s eyes trail over to the student in question, the blonde boy seated beside her, Tsukishima Kei. She was familiar with him seeing as they’d gone to the same middle school. He also happened to be the class’ star pupil due to his stellar intellect.

With a frown, Y/N exhales deeply and looks back down only to come face to face with the number on her wrist having increased by one.

1 lie so far today, huh.

Most days Y/N had found that the lies didn’t start piling up until the afternoon, other times there were slim to none, and assuming they were in high school as well— what were they lying about. It truly left her baffled at what in the world they could be saying. Aside from this curiosity, the thought of her soulmate returned to the back of her mind as a hand tapped her shoulder, drawing her out of her thoughts once more.

A green haired boy stands beside her— she recognizes him, Yamaguchi Tadashi. They’d been friends in middle school and remained so when they’d entered high school, though they weren’t as close as they used to be, Yamaguchi had tried and failed to keep it that way.

The bitter memories resurface, though Y/N simply pushes them to the back of her mind alongside all the over thoughts she doesn’t want to address as she turns to Yamaguchi with a smile, “hey Yamaguchi, what’s up?”

He offers her a nervous smile, eyes flickering across the room before returning to her before he replies, “I was wondering if you wanted to be in my group?”

Tilting her head at him, a small laugh escapes Y/N as she asks, “group?”

For a moment Yamaguchi’s brows furrow, though his eyes drift towards her single rolled up sleeve, the number one displayed on it, “oh! We have a group project for the next few weeks.” Comes his response.

“Project...” Y/N mumbles out, eyes scanning the room as she watches people enter clusters of three, talking and writing things down in their journal— even exchanging numbers. “Right.”

She had a feeling that Tsukishima’s sunny disposition hadn’t done them any favors when it came to getting other members to join their group projects. Coupled with Yamaguchi’s need to end all conflict between his friends.

That must be how they ended up here.

Opening her mouth to speak, Y/N quickly shut it as she searched for the right words, bringing an arm to the back of her neck as she scratched it awkwardly. “I just don’t know if that would be the best idea—”

“If what would be the best idea?” Behind Yamaguchi comes Tsukishima, hands shoved into his pockets as he looks between them.

Shifting uncomfortably in her seat, Y/N looks away, brows furrowing as memories begin to surface. Seeing as the last time they’d interacted, Tsukishima had elected to use some... crude words. Well, Y/N had expected awkwardness when they inevitably spoke to each other once more, and the fact that he seemed to unfazed left her wanting to wipe the smirk off his face.

Preferably in a violent way.

Yamaguchi seems to answer for her as he replies, “well I was thinking since we need groups of three, Y/N would just join us.” Yamaguchi looks between the pair before saying, “like old times.”

Y/N wants to gag.

Moving to stand, she offers Yamaguchi a tight lipped smile, “I’ll probably join a different group but—”

“There are no other groups.” Tsukishima interrupts, though there’s no emotion in his words, as though he’s simply stating a fact. Because clearly, he doesn’t care.

Inhaling deeply, Y/N nods slowly, looking between the both of them before saying, “well you both have my number.” The bell rings, and Y/N can’t help but let out a sigh of relief as she continues, “text me about the project whenever.” Before immediately grabbing her bag from beside her desk and swinging it over her shoulder.

Tsukishima is watching as she leaves, a sigh escaping him as he adjusts his glasses before turning to Yamaguchi, “you’ll need to make a group chat.”

“Why?” He asks, brows furrowing as he pulls at his phone to do so regardless, fingers typing away at the screen.

Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Tsukishima shrugs, “she has me blocked.”

Yamaguchi pauses his typing, sighing. Though he doesn’t look up at Tsukishima as he replies, “Of course she does— well I would too.” Yamaguchi exhales deeply, “you should apologize to her.”

It had always been a touchy subject in their friendship, the way that Tsukishima had elected to end— more accurately, ruin — his friendship with Y/N. Though Yamaguchi wasn’t there to hear what he’d said himself, he’d heard it had been pretty bad from others. After all, Tsukishima had received his first, second and third punch to the face that day.

It was deserved.

“Yeah.” Comes his reply, shoving his hands back into his pockets.

In an attempt to combat the uncomfortable silence between them, Yamaguchi asks, “so where’d you go?”

A smirk breaks out on Tsukishima’s face, “not the bathroom that’s for sure.”

THE NEXT TIME TSUKISHIMA KEI TEXTS Y/N, the message actually goes through. For some reason he can’t bring himself to delete the ones that came before, the apologies from a year prior followed by his messages of realization that she had blocked him.

Maybe it was the fact that his pride had taken a blow or maybe it was the fact that he didn’t want to know if he was forgivable, Tsukishima had never made any attempts to apologize fact to face.

Actually, that’s a lie, he had. But he had chickened out last minute, the panic flooding his veins as he was faced with a situation almost identical to the one that had gotten him into the mess. Seeing her alongside the very person who had punched him in the face that day— well, the first person who had that is— a broad smile on her face.

And who was he to ruin that. Did he even want to know what she’d say? Would she call him ridiculous, a fool for even thinking an apology could mend anything between him?

Would hearing her voice one more time, even if it was just riddled with insults, be enough for closure? He’d done this to himself Tsukishima was well aware but that didn’t make him any less upset at the fact that he’d lost his best friend.

He shakes his head, trying to get rid of those memories as he stares at the message, a simple:

hey, it’s tsukishima.

He was fairly sure that not only had he been blocked he had also had his number deleted, so starting with an introduction seemed right.

we’re meeting at my house tmrw after school. yamaguchi and i have volleyball practice, you can wait for us at the gym or just head over to my house i dont care.

There are so many implications to the message and they all leave Y/N’s head spinning, or maybe she was reading into it. She wasn’t sure at this point, but it was clear that Tsukishima was well aware that she still had the key to his front door.

Y/N elected to show up to volleyball practice rather than face his mother alone.

Stepping into the gym, the sound of shows scrapping against the floor, and volleyballs hitting the ground at an almost rapid pace as people moved around the courts just as quickly.

Y/N scrunches up her nose as she’s hit with the smell of sweat, something to be expected in a gym of course, lips pressing together into a straight line as she steps further into the gym and looks to her left. There stands another girl, albeit slightly intimidating but she looked far more approachable than the other people around the gym

“Excuse me?”

She turns, brows furrowing slightly at the sight of Y/N before offering her a smile and asking, “hey. How can I help you?”

Smiling back— albeit awkwardly— Y/N replies, “I’m waiting for someone,” Y/N quickly realizes that isn’t much information as she adds, “someone in this club. Actually, two people— that’s beside the point. Is there anywhere I can just sit, until the end?”

Once more her brows furrow, “our practices tend to go on pretty long, especially since some of the boys like extra work and we have a few practice games coming up.” Shaking her head slightly, the girl gestures to the bench beside her, “you can sit here with me, I’m Kiyoko by the way.”

“So who are you waiting for?”

“Oh, uh... Tsukishima Kei and Yamaguchi Tadashi.”

Y/N finds herself coming by the gym more often after that day, although it isn’t because she has to walk back to Tsukishima’s house after with him and Yamaguchi, it’s because she finds herself enjoying Kiyoko’s presence. She’s a quiet girl, but she’s rather witty behind the scenes, and certainly and entertaining and fun person. And so were the other boys in the club.

They’d quickly become intrigued by the presence of another girl and—

“Another female manager? Nice!”

“Another manager? Why?”

“Kiyoko are you leaving us!?”

Okay so maybe Y/N had inadvertently joined the Boy’s Volleyball Club, but she really had nothing better to do with her time, much less with all the time she had between school and when the practice ended, allowing Tsukishima to go home with Yamaguchi and Y/N. But it’s not like it wouldn’t be over soon, right? The groups would only last two weeks and then Y/N would be free of her old— or more accurately, ex-friend.

Wrong, the groups became permanent. For the rest of year the students have to use them, for every single group project. Leaving Y/N to dread the class each time she entered due to the burning anticipation of a possible group project. Though Yamaguchi had made several attempts to approach Y/N since their last project ended just a few weeks prior, going as far as ditching Tsukishima entirely to sit with her at lunch some days.

Y/N entertained him, it’s not like she wanted to be rude or anything— not to Yamaguchi that is, he hadn’t done anything wrong. He hadn’t been the one to randomly explode and call her a variety of... colorful words upon finding her with a friend last year.

Neither Y/N nor Yamaguchi bring it up of course, how Tsukishima had driven her away with his crude words that she never expected would ever be directed towards her.

But...

“We’ll be having another group project for the next two weeks!”

The conversation was inevitable.

Y/N nearly rams her head into her desk as she sighs, eyes drifting upwards towards the ceiling as though that would solve any of her current problems, before looking back to Tsukishima with a rather sarcastic smile that he returns with one of his own. Yamaguchi on the other hand, is waving rather enthusiastically from his seat in the classroom, beaming.

It’s not like it was a bad group. They got things done, and when grades were returned, they were good. It’s just that Tsukishima was... Tsukishima. And as annoying and rude as he was, Y/N couldn’t help but feel more annoyed with herself because she still couldn’t find it in herself to hate him.

Backpack slung over her shoulder, Y/N exhales deeply as she looks back at Yamaguchi who remains at his porch, “make sure she gets home safe, Tsukki!”

“That’s really not necessary, Yams.” She assures, giving him a pointed look when Tsukishima turns around with a disinterested shrug. But of course. the boy waves her off, simply shoving her forwards with Tsukki, offering her a thumbs up and a smile.

Y/N simply turns around and follows Tsukishima with a scowl, quickly moving ahead of him as she tugs her backpack strap tighter onto her shoulder.

Tsukishima is rolling his eyes as she moves ahead of him, “how am I supposed to stop you from getting kidnapped when you’re a mile ahead of me?” He calls out to her, maintaining his pace. Y/N doesn’t reply, continuing on ahead, “Y/N.” He repeats, “Y/N.” Once more, she ignores him, until she hears his steps pick up behind her, a hand wrapping around her wrist and stopping her movements.

“Yes Kei?” She exclaims in annoyance, turning back to him. Only for her mouth to gape open as she grimaces, “Tsukishima. I mean.”

He exhales deeply, looking away momentarily before saying, “I’m sorry.”

So, Y/N laughs. “Wow. Tsukishima Kei swallowing his pride to apologize? Impressive.” Tsukishima opens his mouth to reply, only for Y/N to speak first and say, “I hate you.” Before tearing her arm out of his grasp and stepping ahead once more.

Y/N isn’t looking at him as he replies, “no you don’t.”

And Tsukishima would’ve believed had he not looked to his wrist, the number rising with each insult Y/N spewed. Though there was no denying that he deserved it, but that didn’t stop the grimace that came on his face before he asked, “you done?”

WHEN TSUKISHIMA FOUND OUT Y/N WAS HIS SOULMATE, it did not end well. He wasn’t really sure if he had a plan that day, but if he did it went out the window once he saw her with one of her friends from another school. Though Tsukishima had never met the boy in question, it didn’t take long for him to realize that Y/N liked him, whether that was platonic or not it didn’t matter. Because watching her laugh along with him in the convenience store only served as a reminder that there were people better than him.

Tsukishima had never considered himself insecure per se, much less an over thinker or anything of the sort. But the simple fact of the matter was, Y/N didn’t want him, she was stuck with him as his soulmate.

And though she was blissfully unaware of this fact, why did that need to change?

Perhaps she could be happier with that boy, with anyone other than him. Tsukishima had known Y/N for years and though he would never admit it, he respected her, he cared for her, long before he’d discovered they were soulmates. And prior to his discovery he’d always found the system idiotic, so why did his mindset have to change?

It was a bitter ideology, and a jealous and foolish reaction that put him in the place he’s in today. Though Tsukishima was fairly sure it only proved his point, that she deserved better, that didn’t make him any more remorseful of their friendship.

He’d nearly told her several times, like the blunt and straightforward person he is, Tsukishima had almost stopped her in the halls of school and simply said— “surprise! We’re soulmates. Sorry about calling you a whore and all, I was just jealous and bitter because I realized there are people out there better for you and somehow you got stuck with me!”

Yeah, that would’ve blown over real well. Tsukishima was fairly sure he would’ve received an addition hit to the face from her and Yamaguchi, again.

Yamaguchi was not happy when he found out about the convenience store incident. At all.

Tsukishima couldn’t recount many times when he was scared of Yamaguchi Tadashi, until his fist was flying towards his face. Of course, he laughed it off, wiping the blood from his nose, but that didn’t make it a fun experience by any means.

Now, Tsukishima was just trying to amend things, slightly. It’s not like Y/N owed him any of her time, and it’s not like she needed to know that they were soulmates.

It would be better off that way for the both of them, or at least, that’s what Tsukishima told himself— much to Yamaguchi’s dismay. The boy had been urging Tsukishima to just tell her the truth, for a while now, to no avail. And when Tsukishima returned to class one day having discovered he would be in a group with her and Yamaguchi, well he couldn’t help but thing Yamaguchi was scheming.

But looking up to Yamaguchi and Y/N, who are seated at the table of some café Y/N had insisted on coming to, Tsukishima can’t help but think it was worth it.

No, she didn’t need to know.

And so, against her better judgement, Y/N had allowed things to return to normal. The same weekly hangouts they once had becoming daily because of volleyball practice each day, forcing Yamaguchi, Tsukishima and Y/N together for even longer periods of time. Walks homes becoming progressively longer as they all speak amongst themselves— or more accurately, Y/N and Yamaguchi speak. Then again, Tsukishima had always been more of the quiet kind unless he had something witty to add on.

This revival of friendship meant the return of the late night calls as well, of course. Albeit, most of them filled with a comfortable silence that Y/N finds herself relishing in a she lays in bed, eyes glued to the time shining in the corner of her phone screen.

11:52PM.

Inhaling deeply, Y/N rolls over on her bed, tugging at her sleeve to pull it down and reveal the counter on her wrist. There have been a few lies today, though there hadn’t been any in the past few hours. In recent months the number had been fluctuating more which Y/N found... odd.

Tsukishima seems to notice her shift in mood, though he doesn’t look up from his work as he asks, “what is it?” When Y/N doesn’t respond, he simply repeats himself, asking, “what’s wrong?

Y/N’s brows furrow as she huffs, bringing her arm back down and pushing herself up on her bed using her elbows before replying, “what do you mean?”

“The dramatic sigh.” Comes his reply, eyes still glued to the page in front of him as the sound of his pen moving against the paper fills his room.

Y/N looks to him on the screen incredulously as she scoffs, “it was not a dramatic sigh.”

A pause on his part as he looks down before replying, “I don’t even think you believe that Y/N.” He responds, rolling his eyes before adjusting his glasses at the bridge of his nose.

Sometimes Y/N wondered how he’d always been able to do that, read her like a book. Was she truly that predictable? Grimacing, Y/N brushes away the thought, “nothing is wrong?” Her response sounds more like a question, leaving her cringing at her inability to lie.

Tsukishima raises a brow as he dryly responds, “that was convincing.”

Y/N just sighs again, eyes drifting to her wrist once more— the counter now reset to zero as the day starts anew— as she pauses, wondering if the conversation would be worth it.

“Do you ever think of you soulmate, Tsukishima?”

His pen stops, and if Y/N was looking at the screen rather than her wrist, she would’ve seen the way he straightened in his seat as he replied, “no. I don’t.” He clears his throat, “no point in dwelling on someone I haven’t even met yet.”

Maybe Y/N would’ve replied had the counter not ticked up to 2 as he spoke.

But it was a coincidence. It had to be a coincidence.

“So... you haven’t met your soulmate yet?

Another moment of silence before he replies, “no.” With a sigh.

Y/N brings a hand to clasp over her mouth, “you’re kidding me.” A bitter laugh escapes her, “you’re fucking kidding me.” Y/N finds herself inhaling deeply as she attempts to calm herself. “How long have you known?”

Y/N WAS AVOIDING HIM, not that he didn’t deserve it, again. But that didn’t make it any better. Tsukishima found himself frowning as he stared at his eyes pierced into the back of her head, and for the first time he found himself hoping for a group project.

What a change in events.

Tsukishima was honestly more worried about what Yamaguchi would say once he found out that he and Y/N were fighting again but... that was something to worry about for another time.

“We’ll be having a group project once more today! If you haven’t realized already, this class is oriented around the idea of building you collaborative and social skills.”

Okay, maybe not another time.

Tsukishima can practically hear Y/N’s head fall against her desk, his eyes drifting back to her as the teacher drones on about the requirements of this assignment and how they’ll pick up the rubric once class ends and they can further review it tomorrow.

Probably because the bell rings almost immediately after.

Y/N has already shot up from her seat, tugging her back over her shoulder as she beelines for the exit of the class. And for once, Tsukishima finds himself making an effort to keep up with her as he calls out her name, “Y/N, stop.”

This seems to garner Yamaguchi’s attention, who jogs to keep up with the pair as they all exit the classroom, “guys? What’s going on?”

“Everything is fine, Yamaguchi!” Comes Y/N’s response from ahead of them, waving him off.

Yamaguchi’s brows furrow as he grabs Tsukishima’s wrist only to see that the counter has risen, causing him to look up at Tsukishima when he finally yanks his wrist away. “What did you do?”

Tsukishima looks to him incredulously, “what makes you think I did something?”

Yamaguchi looks to him blankly as he replies, “well Y/N isn’t chasing you through the halls, is she?” He rolls his eyes, jogging to get ahead of the both of them and block their path as he looked to them with furrowed brows, “what is going on guys?”

“Not now, Tadashi, please—”

“Tadashi?”

The group pauses in the empty hallway, most of the other students having left now that the day had ended, and the sound of Tsukishima’s voice is unlike anything Y/N has heard before as she sighs.

“I wish you had told me, Tsukishima.” Is all she mumbles out, before dragging a hand through her hair and pushing past the both of them, turning the corner of the hall and leaving them alone there.

A/N: gasp :0 yamaguchi?

#tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei x you #tsukishima x you #kei x reader #kei tsukishima x reader #kei x you #kei tsukishima x you #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyu!! x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #hq x you #haiky #tsukishima kei x y/n #tsukishima x y/n #kei x y/n #kei tsukishima x y/n

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spxllcxstxr · 4 years ago

Text

Bumps and Bruises • M.M

(GIF is not mine)

Request: Hi! Sorry, May I ask for a Marlene McKinnon x fem!/gn! reader fic, Soulmate AU where they feel each other's pain. — anon

Summary: Two Quidditch rivals finding out they’re something...more (Soulmate AU)

Warnings: Mentions of food/eating, injury description, brief mention of blood

Word Count: ~2k

A.N: NonGryffindor!Reader, this is my first time doing a Soulmate AU so I hope this is ok! It’s hard to find a balance between Soulmate AU and normal AU, but I’m sure I’ll get better with it in practice! The ending is kinda iffy imo, but it’s not terrible. Hope you enjoy!

****

The first thing you feel when you wake up on Friday morning is a flare up of painful throbbing blossoming across the outer part of your right thigh.

You groan, prying your eyes open and pull back your blanket.

The pale light filtering through your curtains is enough to see the grotesque purpling of swollen skin. You poke and prod at your thigh, occasionally hissing out in agony.

The bruise is both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.

Its circular shape is something you see all the time. As a Beater on your Quidditch team, Bludger bruises were commonplace. The issue is, and this is where the mark becomes unfamiliar to you, when you went to sleep last night, there was no evidence of any such mark.

This was peculiar because you never had a history of sleep Quidditch, and you’re sure that if you got up in the middle of the night in a trance, at least one of your dorm mates would’ve told you.

And this certainly wasn’t some accidental hitting your bed frame sort of injury. This was ten inches in diameter, black and blue like a ball of pure iron slammed into you. As a self proclaimed Quidditch expert, you’re fully aware of what caused this.

But this conclusion brings up more questions than answers. Sure, you had practice after classes yesterday, but you would remember being hit full force—and you don’t.

But you have no time to sit and ponder over this mystery, you have to make it down for breakfast and then endure hours of classes. If only you could skip ahead to tomorrow’s match against Gryffindor.

You limp your way through the dorm, unable to put the usual amount of weight on your right leg. The room is empty, save for Bedelia, who, as usual, is still snoring underneath her blanket. On your way out, you make sure to wake her up by slamming the door shut as hard as you can.

Hobbling down to the Great Hall with a bag of heavy books slung over your shoulder is no easy feat even when it’s something that constantly happens.

The Great Hall is buzzing, though most of the noise is coming from the Gryffindor table.

The ceiling reflects the morning, bright blue and not a cloud in sight.

By the looks of it, the Gryffindor Quidditch team just got back from their morning practice, still panting and sweaty. For the entire week leading up to a match, James Potter, their captain, makes them practice and go through relentless drills in preparation. When they’re not on the pitch, he’s quizzing them on maneuvers. You’re lucky that your captain and fellow Beater, Morgana Sharpe, gives you the day before a match off, mostly to rest and review. If Potter was your captain he would’ve ended up in St. Mungo’s by now.

Your eyes wander over to Marlene McKinnon, her blonde hair up in a bun, face red and splotchy from practice, bare arms showing off muscle. Her chest heaves under her scarlet top.

“Practicing getting your arses handed to you?” You joke, leaning against their table.

Marlene scoffs. “Oh, you wish.”

Her deep brown eyes find yours, a troublesome twinkle shining through.

“Focus, Marlene, can’t have you fraternizing with the enemy!” James laughs out between mouthfuls of eggs.

“More like flirting with the enemy.” Sirius snorts, leaning closer to Remus, who chuckles into his glass.

“Oi! Piss off, Black!” Marlene snaps, the red on her face spreading.

Dorcas squeezes in next to her, dittany in hand. “How’s the leg, Marls?”

“Aw.” You pout. “Did McKinnon get a boo boo during practice?”

She scowls at you. “Don’t you have a potion to blow up?”

You clench your jaw and ball your hand into a fist. She’s got a point.

“Alright, enough trash talk, you two, leave it for the pitch.” James rolls his eyes.

Instantly, a weight lifts from your shoulders.

“I gotta go eat, anyway.” You smile warmly at your sort of friends. “So I’ll see you guys in class.” You wave before turning to your own table.

You join the rest of your team the table, squeezing through the tight huddle. Parchment is scattered all over the surface, some with crude drawings of maneuvers, some with written stats.

“Right, now that we’re all here,” Sharpe grunts our in her thick Irish accent, shooting you a disgruntled look. “We have a change of plans.”

“Change of plans?” Webb, one of your Chasers, asks. He looks up from his diagram, eyebrows raised.

“Greene’s soulmate took a tumble and landed him in the hospital wing. Can’t play tomorrow’s match.” She scowls, drawing clenched tightly on her hand.

“Again?” Your team groans.

Rupert Greene spends more time in the hospital wing due to his soulmate’s clumsiness than from playing a dangerous magical sport. That’s the way it’s been for the four years you’ve known him, and you have a hunch that it’ll never change.

“So we’re gonna have to put in Knight? Against Gryffindor?” Webb cries out, eyes wide. “No offense, but he isn’t ready to take on those pricks!”

Sharpe runs a hand through her dark brown hair. “Well, I guess we all just need to pray to Merlin some Gryffindor gets knocked off their broom.” She sighs.

The news of Knight replacing Greene for the match against Gryffindor puts you in a sour mood, making the bruise on your thigh throb more painfully.

You march through the corridors, face contorted in a permanent frown, barely paying attention to your lessons. You do, however, manage to keep your potion from exploding, which Slughorn is thrilled about. Match notes and plays take over your free time, pushing all your homework to Sunday, quickly deciding that this match is far too important. Marlene sticks her tongue out at you whenever she gets the chance as she hobbles through the corridors or looks away from Flitwick in your shared Charms class.

Sharpe drags you and the rest of the team up to bed at nine, lecturing you all about a good night’s rest. You roll your eyes, but you do only spend half an hour studying moves before heading to bed.

You wake up jittery.

You’re always nervous the morning of normal Quidditch matches, but this isn’t a normal Quidditch match. Gryffindor has gone undefeated for the entire season so far, and you just need to beat them. You crave to watch the smug look fall from James’ face and the cocky attitude that Sirius is infamous for crumble. You want to win. At the same time, though, you’re hesitant to see the frown on Marlene’s face. Those perfect lips deserve to shaped in a perfect smile.

Your bruise isn’t as irritated as yesterday. It’s still black and blue, but you really need to dig your thumb into it for it to hurt.

You stretch, listening to your joints pop before strutting down to the Great Hall to join the rest of your team.

Taking a deep breath before making your way through the threshold, you try your best to calm down and radiate confidence. You crack your knuckles and make your way to your table.

Marlene throws you a playful glare across the room, which you teasingly reciprocate.

Breakfast is a quiet affair for your group. Feet tap impatiently against the stone, nervous habits running wild.

The weather is perfect for Quidditch. There’s a slight breeze and a couple fluffy white clouds drifting through the blue sky, providing the occasional blotch of shade. It reassures you and calms you down on your walk down.

Sharpe gives her usual pep talk in the locker rooms. It’s all about blood, guts, and glory, and how we better not mess this up for her or else “she’ll haunt us from the great beyond.” Knight is white as a sheet, trembling underneath his robes.

The crowd roars out from the stands just above, your cue to make your grand entrance. Brooms are taken off their positions in the wall and in a single filed line, you all follow Sharpe out onto the pitch.

“And here it is, everybody,” Remus’ voice calls out over the chaos. “Captain Sharpe, (Y/Ln), Webb, Byrne, Spade, Opal, and their reserve, Knight!”

Your house cheers louder at your introduction, your eardrums pounding. You smile and nod at the crowd, excitement bubbling up inside of you.

“While the two captains are taking positions and shaking hands,” You hear as you mount your broom, Potter and Sharpe facing each other. “I have been paid quite a significant amount to say that according to James Potter, Lily Evans looks absolutely gorgeous today—“

“That has nothing to do with the match, Lupin!” McGonagall cries.

“Godric, Minnie. I’m just doing some adverts, it’s all good. No need to—“

A large thwack echos throughout the pitch, but you’re too wrapped up in Hooch blowing the whistle.

Quickly, you soar up in the air, Beater’s bat in one hand, chasing after your teammates to defend them.

You barely hear Remus over the whistling of the wind and your own grunts.

You watch Marlene laugh after she bats a Bludger away from James, the bat giving off a wicked crack. You’re momentarily mesmerized by her figure. How her tongue peeks out in concentration and her ponytail bounces wildly in the wind.

A moment passes and your arm erupts in pain, and to add onto that, you’re hurtling towards the grass.

You clutch your arm and brace for impact, breath being forcibly ripped from your lungs. Tears well in your eyes from both the pain and the air lashing against your body. Your Quidditch robes flap wildly behind you.

The landing, however, isn’t that bad. You end up in the grass, your bad arm protected. You assume Dumbledore is the one to thank.

You let out strangled pants, sky spinning around you, a piercing whistle sharp against your ears. Your arm screams in agony.

“(Y/Ln)!” Sharpe calls out, broom clutched in one hand. “You alright?” Her face shines with sweat.

“Bloody hell, she’s got quite the swing.” You groan, face contorting in anguish.

In the corner of your rotating vision, you watch red and gold blurs crowding around someone else.

Madam Hooch and the rest of your teammates are talking, but you can’t understand a word they’re saying.

Tendrils of black fog enter your vision and suddenly you’re out cold.

You recognize the hospital wing bed immediately. It’s firm, but not unbearable, the white cotton sheets rubbing against any exposed skin.

“So (Y/Ln) and McKinnon, eh?”

It’s garbled and you’re unable to place the voice, but it’s understandable.

“What’s this ‘bout me and McKinnon?” You manage to slur out, eyes blinking open, the figures above you blurry.

The world gradually clears itself up, your teammates surrounding your bed. Your left arm is wrapped tightly to your chest with a white cotton sling. The pain is dull, but it’s the most noticeable feeling present.

“Ah, well...” Webb scratches the back of his neck, averting his eyes.

“They’re talking about how I finally felt my own strength.”

Slowly, you turn your head to see Marlene sitting up on her bed, carefully watching over you. Her friends surround her, knowing smirks gracing their faces.

Her blonde hair is a bit of a tangled mess from the wind, but her smile is blinding in the light.

“You mean...” Your eyes widen in shock.

Marlene nods her head. “Soulmates.”

You bite your lip in response.

“I mean, it was pretty obvious, wasn’t it?” Sirius asks, looking between his friends for approval. “They literally wake up covered in bruises after like every Quidditch match!”

“Shut up, Pads!” Remus hisses, smacking him on the leg. “They’re having a moment.”

Sirius rolls his eyes and holds his hands up in mock surrender.

Your eyes drift to your thigh where the mysterious bruise was.

“I’m guessing you got hit by a Bludger during practice?” You ask.

“And you’re the one that gave me that broken bloody nose during detention!” Marlene exclaims.

You nod shyly, remembering when Knight accidentally threw the Quaffle at your face during a late night practice.

“Are we really that bloody stupid?” You laugh.

“You want a real answer or...?” James starts, repositioning his glasses.

Marlene shoves James off her bed, and he yelps before ungracefully tumbling to the floor with a crash.

“Guess this is our cue to leave the two stupid lovebirds alone.” Lily giggles before patting her friend on the back and leaving, the Marauders and your own team trailing close behind her.

Because the bones in your arm are practically shattered, you’re confined to the hospital wing for at least another day, but with Marlene at your bedside, it’s been made bearable. You talk about all those mysterious injuries you’ve acquired over the many years and learn the extent of your idiocy.

With various bumps and bruises to match, at the end of the day, the two of you are much more than Quidditch rivals.

#marlene mckinnon x reader #marlene mckinnon #Marlene McKinnon fanfiction #Marlene McKinnon fluff #the marauders x reader

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imthepunchlord · 3 years ago

Note

Different nonnie from the last Princess Fragrance ask, but I think Rose befriending Ali like she did in canon could actually cause a few problems for Lila in Dodged a Beetle. Like, it is forever weird to me how Rose fell for/was as in awe as she was by Lila’s claim of meeting Prince Ali and flying in his private jet with him when she had NOT ONLY MET BUT ALSO BEFRIENDED HIM BEFOREHAND. And in this AU, given that she’s heard Lila’s claim before meeting him, she would definitely mention Lila to Prince Ali excitedly while they spend time together. Ali in his debut gives the air of someone who’s able to recognize authenticity in people, not caring for and being slightly confused/put off by good actions coming from selfish reasons, and understands how to maneuver through such occurrences good-naturedly, given how he turns Chloe’s offered hand to kiss into a handshake, reacts with confusion to Chloe’s fake modesty, and gracefully turns her down in favor of hanging out with Rose. And speaking of Rose, he also seems to be able to recognize and appreciate real, genuine compassion, being touched by Rose’s compliments and wanting to hang out with her after being surprised in the moment but not put off by how she clung to him at first during their introduction. Therefore, I think it’s a safe bet that he would gently but firmly explain that he’s never met anyone named Lila Rossi and that she may be trying to use that claim to endear herself to the class. Rose isn’t the type of person to blab about something like that to the whole class, but she is the type to be completely honest about her whole experience with Prince Ali to people who talk to her regularly (i.e. Juleka of course, but also Marinette, Alix and Nathaniel from art club at this point in the timeline) and would likely talk about this revelation once one of them asks about if he or she brought up Lila. Given how quickly word spreads in Bustier’s class, I can see everyone inching towards raising their brows the same way that Marinette does when Lila makes claims after the fact, especially if they involve Prince Ali, and her finding herself in an inescapable position where the person she is talking about has made it clear that they don’t know her and the people she’s talking to being well aware of this fact. The saving grace is that the information came from Rose, who tries to see the good in everyone, and that it’s not far enough in the timeline for Lila to be successful in getting people to act as servants, so there’s no anger or strong distrust in the air, but it’s still a “dude, we know that’s a lie, you don’t have to lie to us for us to like you” kinda vibe. How Lila internally reacts to this uncontrollable wrench in her class plans depends on how early you want this episode to occur, but she might deem it safe to lay lower on the lies she spins while she regroups with the class’s new view of what she says regardless.

Yeah its a possibility it would be for Lila.

But at the core, it'll depend on how it goes, if I ever want the whole class to learn that Lila's a liar and addresses this, or if it's something Lila adjusts on her own as she grows and she lies less and less and starts treating those around her more genuinely.

if the latter, the easy solution is that Lila doesn't lie about knowing Prince Ali. The only reason they had her do so in canon is because Volpina takes place after Princess Fragrance and Ali is one of the few famous characters she can mention. Ali isn't the only way to wow Rose.

So we'll see. It would be an issue for her, but not certain that's an issue I want brought up.

#ask Punchie #dodged a beetle au #arrival swap au

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vminity21 · 4 years ago

Text

Promise Me | pjm

Pairing: Actor!Jimin X Actress!Reader, ot7 featured, friendshiptolovers!au

Word Count: 17, 280

Genre: fluff/soft/angst/smut

Warning(s): mega-angst, family rivalry, eventual smut, losing virginity, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, nipple play, mild language use Rated: 18+

Summary: You and Park Jimin, two best friends who grow up together, pursue each of your careers in acting. Even after a horrible misunderstanding which then leads to losing contact, the two of you never give up on your dreams. Nor, do you give up on each other.

Credit to: @suhdays for making such an awesome cover!

He relies on his elbow while he slides to lay on his side, beat up converse crossing at the ankles while the loose scrape of his jacket sounds when greeted by the hardwood floor; his cheek brushes your shin once he makes himself comfortable. Your arms are folded across the tops of your knees where you rest your chin, staring at him fondly as you wait for his cue to speak, "You know you can trust me," he flashes a full smile- eyes disappearing into crescents causing your heart to melt at his overwhelming beauty.

"I know, I just... It's not you, it's me," you say, the cliché line sounding believable coming from your lips. Looking towards his clasped hands in response, he nods,

"It's not you, it's me... I've said that plenty of times in my life,"

"So, you understand me," you muse with the raise of your eyebrows hoping your stare exuberates your flirty side. When he returns to peer up at you, his thick lips poise with a slight twitch as if he's conjuring up a reply,

"Come here," he tilts his head up while you maneuver yourself to reach him- lips lock in the most passionate mold, and when he moves to where he can easily pull you closer, his kiss almost makes you forget where you are. Your hand trails to tangle with his blonde strands, getting lost in the movement he makes while he leans back, pulling you with him as previously practiced-

CRASH!

Jumping at the ear-piercing sound of shattering glass, wide eyes stare at the culprit of your piggy bank that fell from the pedestal he happened to lean against for support. Gulping, coins and dollar bills sparsely decorate the floor with the jagged pieces, but none of that is the reason why your heart is pounding with intense fear. There, lying in the jumbled mess of a pile is a couple of ID cards to cover your real identity.

He stands to his feet slowly, taking careful steps toward the muddle.

"I- I can-" You begin, trying to gather an explanation- watching him shuffle up the cards when a façade of shock covers his expression.

"What- what are these?" Anger darkens his eyes with the subtle rise of his voice.

"I can- I can explain-" tears brim the moment he halts your words by holding out his hand.

"No. Don't. I think I've seen enough," he tosses the cards onto your bed before stomping toward the door. Jolting to your feet, you mirror panic,

"No, Sam, please! Wait, please!"

Chasing after him, he spins around, "We're done, Kylee," he removes your hand that happened to reach his shoulder, "Or is that even your real name?"

"CUT!" The director, Steve Aoki, calls and with accomplished smiles, you and Jimin turn to face the cast and crew, "Wonderful, wonderful! Absolutely astounding!" Steve applauds, congratulating the pair of you while the two of you step away from the set. "I know this movie will make it to the big screen if the two of you continue performing like that!"

"Thank you, Steve," Jimin slightly bows forward with a sweet grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. He slips his arm around your waist with pride, "What can I say? I have a great co-star!"

"Ah, the chemistry!" Steve exclaims.

"Well, thank you to the both of you," you gleam with flattery, leaning into Jimin's side with the tint of a blush heating your cheeks, "I'm having a great time."

"We'll film more scenes with the two of you tomorrow. Right now, we need to film action scenes with the stunt doubles," Steve quickly kisses the side of your forehead before walking off, "Take five, everyone!" He shouts, clapping his hands to disperse the workers into a break.

"I must say, I'm really enjoying this movie with you, Chim," you compliment as he leads you to the refreshment table. Bottles of water sit in perfect rows in front of the snacks- cheese cubes and crackers tempting to relieve your growling stomach.

"I can say the same to you, [Y/Nickname]," Jimin reaches for two waters and hands one to you in which you take a few sips once you screw off the lid. As crazy as it sounds, Jimin has been your best friend for as long as you can remember.

Born to wealthy parents, a couple years after you came your sister. From the day you learned how to speak and understand the world around you, a dream was created that revolved around the career of acting. That's all you've ever wanted to do, and in elementary school, where you got to experience your first taste of this dream, you landed a role as Mrs. Scrooge in the Christmas play. Since none of the young boys tried out for the part, they changed the character to a woman the moment they discovered your talent. After your performance, you received numerous compliments that you were beyond grateful for, and since then you knew, acting was your definite calling. Sure, you had only been in fifth grade, but you loved being on the stage. It gave you a new perspective of every character you played- a new way of seeing life played out before you behind someone else's eyes. The stage – you were in your comfort zone. There, you felt home.

You had spoken to your parents about your dream to find that they were thrilled about your hope in acting. Your mom had warned you though that you needed to be patient; landing a show or movie role could be an incredibly hard task. Promising to be patient, like any kid would have, you kept your eyes peeled for any announcement of an audition. First, you started small- your mom had found auditions for commercials, and that was when you officially began the acting business. Three commercials down, and then you attempted in auditioning for TV shows which you hadn't had much success, and you wore the face of a broken-hearted girl. You figured you would never be good enough for the big screen with how everything was panning out, yet one day, auditions were being held in your city for a romantic comedy that was going to be filmed in the same spot also. A young girl was needed that would resemble the main actress in order to accomplish flashback scenes. Of course, you begged your mother to take you once you received the news.

Sitting in the waiting area the day of, your mother had driven you and your sister all the way to the location, and it felt like days when in all reality it had been three hours before your turn was called. The audition line was packed, and your sister had been growing anxious, wanting food or water, anything that would keep her entertained. Your mom comforted her by handing her a notebook and a pen from her purse, "Here baby, draw on this, okay?"

You remembered seeing a girl similar in age to you exit into the lobby with a confident smile. Your heart rammed within your chest as your sweaty palms rubbed against your jeans. Each child had been handed a script to study in the time leading up to this moment you were anxious to begin. C'mon... You can do this. Your eyes shot up in the direction of where a door opened, "Next!" A lady with long, dark hair smiled at you kindly when she caught your timid eyes, and out of habit, something you even did at doctor visits, you turned to your mother as if to ask for permission to follow what seemed to be a genuine woman.

"Go on," your mom said softly, "I believe in you."

Comfort eased your countenance and you left with a smile in determination of needing to nail this audition. If your parents, believed in you, then you knew that you could do it. The squeak of the chair sounded the moment you rose to your feet soon finding yourself inside the audition room where the only thing you could hear was the light thudding of your heartbeat. A red cloth adorned the table before you, where four judges remained seated. One male with gray hair chewed on the back of his pencil before looking up at you behind thick-rimmed glasses.

"How are you today, Miss-" He looked over at a clipboard lying in front of the woman who led you to the audition room, "[Y/N]?"

"I'm good, how are you, sir?" You put on your best smile with pure genuine though your hands quivered at your sides.

"Good," he sounded cheery for that second, "Okay, Mrs. Yeun is going to read the lines which will be spoken by the character, Will." He gestured briefly to the left in introduction of a lady holding a clipboard, "And after she finishes her lines, that's when you'll obviously speak. Start your first line when you're ready,"

Looking back, you're sure he must have repeated himself a million times that day with each audition, yet you still felt as though you were the only soul surrounded by strangers though many mirrored the same feeling. Inhaling deeply, you closed your eyes while your fingers curled into your palms- releasing the moment you exhaled- gradually opening your eyes once you imagined yourself as the character you were supposed to be.

"Will!" You exclaimed whilst envisioning the highlighted lines you studied thoroughly- waving your arms frantically in the air as if to gain the fiction boy's attention, "Will! I- I found it! I found the treasure!"

"You did?" Though the voice of a woman read the part, you still pretended to see a messy haired boy with a galaxy of life behind his almond eyes while he rushed to see what you claimed you had found, "By golly, you did!"

The man then wanted you to read more of a serious scene between your character, Rose, and Will. Trying to think of sad things to keep your expression gloomy, forced tears welled within your eyes just enough to make your character compelling which resulted in applauding judges bidding a slew of congratulations after jotting down a few notes.

"We'll reach out if you make callbacks," the man nodded once and that's all it took before you ran out of the room with a smile from ear to ear. It took only a few days before you received a call back in which you were able to audition a second time but in front of the actual director of the film. You returned to Rose, the character you had grown to love already. This time, it took weeks before you had a callback, ending in nights of nervous tears that maybe your dreams wouldn't come true after all- your parents reassured you despite the inner angst of wondering the same as you, and told you not to give up no matter what the circumstances.

It was the call that changed your life forever. Dancing in the kitchen alongside your mother who was stirring the batter for some cupcakes, you remember as though it was only yesterday, small fingers gripping the device before greeting the person on the other end.

"Is this [Y/L/N] [Y/F/N]?"

Your mom mouthed 'who is it?' when she caught the way your lips had parted in confusion at the male voice you couldn't recognize on the spot, but you answered, "Yes, sir," anyway. It was the screaming in excitement that nearly knocked the bowl out of your mother's hands when you heard the man confirm the hope you've so desperately held onto,

"Well, [Y/N]! I am thrilled to say that you made the part of Rose!"

Arrangements were then made- the company in charge of the movie rented a home for your family to stay in while the movie was being filmed, and considering the duration of how long a movie can be to make, your mother began to homeschool you to keep you from falling behind. On your first day of work, the cast members had gotten together to review the script. Your mother was hesitant to drop you off at first without her being by your side, but with the assurance from the director of your safety, she reluctantly agreed to let you go. Teary-eyed from the anxious feeling pounding in your chest, you walked into the room where a table full of adults greeted you along with two teenagers scrunched next to three empty seats. Not one soul seemed close to your age just yet, but you were politely introduced to your fellow castmates which relieved you enough to promise yourself everything would be okay.

"Hi, you must be Ye-jin!" The voice of a young boy rattled behind you causing you to gasp softly before whirling around to face your intruder. Dark hair swooped across his forehead where almond eyes presented eager, brown irises that beamed with kindness; his wrinkled light blue t-shirt was loose on his tiny frame as well as his jeans, and he was not much taller than you from what you observed.

"Oh no, sweetie!" The surrounding table erupted in frilly laughter, "I'm Son Ye-jin!" The most lovely woman you had ever seen gushed at his widening smile.

"Oh! Well, I'm Jimin! Park Jimin!"

"Well, the two of you take a seat. The director will be here any minute," a handsome man nestled beside Ye-jin gestured toward the empty seats you and Jimin waltzed to occupy. A few minutes of chatter filled the room while your eyes scanned the scene before as any child would do when uncertain of what would be happening next, but that's when a poke on your shoulder disrupted your stares,

"What's your name?" Jimin asked the second your eyes timorously moved to meet his.

"[Y/F/N]. [Y/L/N] [Y/F/N]," You replied, "And you're Jimin,"

"Yes! I play Will! You must play Rose,"

"I do!"

The director and producers filed into the room before any more conversation could be continued, and for the next hour, the plot of the movie was further explained, though now, being an adult, looking back, you understand the synopsis much more than when you were ten years old first hearing it. The main characters discovered a treasure when they were children, unraveling secrets that could be worth a fortune. When the couple became adults, though had lost touch throughout the years, they never forgot about the treasure and the two individually set out to find it yet again. Unexpectedly, they bumped into each other and a love/hate relationship ensued until they found what they were looking for.

You and Jimin started filming different scenes together over the next five months after the script had been explained and reviewed. The pair of you became inseparable, growing closer with each scene finished. There was never a day that went by where you hadn't begged your parents to let him come over just for the two of you to practice your lines for whatever scheduled time for filming was planned next. Your father would bring home ice cream whenever he got off work to surprise you, your sister as well as your newfound friend, and you will never forget Jimin's melted chocolate smile or the way the ice cream would drip from his chin onto whichever shirt he'd claim was his favorite. Throwing a fit of giggles, he would chase you around the yard until he'd catch you- tickling your tummy until you took your outburst back. He also loved drawing with your sister, something he wasn't very good at, but he liked giving her company to prevent her from ever feeling left out.

Whenever the cast and crew had days off, Jimin would return to his hometown and you never could shake the loneliness you endured without him around. Though your sister enjoyed drawing or watching a movie, you more so preferred being outdoors, or practicing your lines which had been a daily chore since you became a part of this movie project, and of course, when Jimin would return, the pair of you would be driven to set to get back to work.

One particular scene, one you will never let be forgotten in your heart, is a moment where Will and Rose made an oath to be best friends forever. You and Jimin were directed to a swing set where the two of you took your seats, slightly swaying forward while the cameramen stood where assigned. Powder was dusted upon you and Jimin's faces to finalize everything before the yell of, "Action!" was voiced.

"You know, Rose?" Jimin became Will almost instantly, a talent not many ten-year-old children can perfect, but from what you remember, he had and has continued to blow minds away even from the beginning of his career. His expression was serious while his gaze remained on you as practiced. "I need you to promise me something,"

Looking at your black slippers, you noticed the swings were edging simultaneously, but you kept your focus solely on the words you were about to speak, "What is it, Will?" You tried to pull off your best curious face.

"I mean promise, even if you get tired of playing checkers with me,"

"Yes," you urged.

"And, if you get tired of playing tag even though you're always 'it,'"

"Yes," you dragged the word length in attempt to feign impatience.

"I mean you have to really promise me,"

"Okay, Will! I really, really promise," the wind calmed just enough to where your hair stopped tickling the sides of your face. Jimin hopped off the swing while his footsteps paused to face you completely. Even though you both were in acting mode, there was something serious behind his umber eyes that only you could see. One of the cameramen moved to film the side angles of you and Jimin's faces in order to capture the scene the way it had been imagined. Sometimes, with the camera being so close, it was hard to ignore, but at that moment, you were too absorbed with your character and Jimin's eyes to even glimpse in the camera's direction.

"Promise me that no matter what, we'll be best friends forever," the blurred sight of Jimin's pinky finger carefully raised in your line of vision, and for dramatic effect, you were told to count to three before your cue to say your line,

"I promise," you curled your pinky and locked it with Jimin's while a shy smile became present upon your lips, "Best friends forever."

"CUT! That's a wrap!" The director had said, but you vaguely remember that. All you had on your mind was the moment you and Jimin had shared. Though your lines had been written from a script, the two of you meant every word. That's why the scene had seemed so believable because there was truth in it.

Jimin was your best friend since that very day, and you pursued your dreams and have landed roles in plenty of hit movies since moving back to your hometown seven years ago. You're now a pretty well-known actress, but others find you humble in the fact that you never seem to show it off nor let the fame get to your head. Being seen in public has become one of caution, yet you adore every fan that comes your way asking for an autograph or a picture just so the memory of meeting you can be burned into their hearts forever.

Your dad, after your first movie, was transferred to officially work at a better job that happened to be in the same city that Jimin and his family lived in, which prompted your family to move being your mom as well as his became very good friends. You attended school with him at this point which he guided you due to you had been growing used to homeschool since your first movie. It was safe at the time to roam the halls of school- you and Jimin never became really famous, but your popularity gained with the pupils once joined the drama club resulting in auditioning for every musical or play the school had to offer. So, did your partner in crime, Park Jimin.

"You're doing it again," you snap back to the present with a sharp shaking of your head to dissolve the thoughts now scattering into your subconscious. Eyes clearing, you realize you've been zoned out for quite some time considering the subtle crease of worry tinged within Jimin's gaze.

"Sorry, Chim. I'm kinda-"

"Dazed," he finishes your sentence- his pink lips pressing into a tease of a smile.

"You know me so well,"

"I do," he winks taking a sip of his water bottle- swishing it around before swallowing, "Want to go out tonight? My schedule's clear for once,"

With busy lives of movies, sponsorships, premiers, cocktail parties, and anything revolving around this world of being on the go, it's hard to truly find the time to spend together which is something you've forced yourself to accept. But, miraculously, tilting your head, you comb back through your memory to realize you are, indeed, free this evening, "I would really like that, Chim. Thanks," you smile, excited to spend time by his side without cameras rolling in both your faces.

"No problem," he slips his hand in yours, carefully scanning behind you to confirm that not one person is watching. His warm fingers intertwine with yours while he leans closer, plush lips nearly tickling your temple, "Besides, I miss spending time with you," he whispers, you repressing the obvious tingles spreading across your skin- you turn in the direction of where the exit is visible, him following suit though hands remain locked.

"You're spending time with me now," you tease.

"You know what I mean," he rolls his eyes, yet his smile remains so wide, you feel the elevation of your heart flying. You love his smile, everything about him makes your head spin into a dizzy world of happiness. He's one of the biggest heartthrobs in the world; girls go crazy with his presence being in the same room as them; and, with many knowing him and his six best friends like the Bible, they don't really know Jimin like you do. It's the same for you, too. You love your fans more than life; you love reaching out to them on social media- signing at cons- meeting them in public when recognized and hearing the endless compliments on how wonderful you did in whatever movie has been released where you're the star of the plot. But as many times as he's said it, Jimin will always be your number one fan.

The fan who knows you.

Starring alongside him in the recent movie the pair of you have been working on was intimidating at first. You're not sure on how the press will react, or fans, or... the world. Jimin landed the role of Sam and nearly begged you to try out for Kylee who would in due course be the love interest for Jimin's character.

"Please! I'm begging you! You'll love it! It has action in it!" He nodded quickly while a ginormous smile with the shimmering pearl of his teeth nearly blinded you- his hands clasped together beneath his chin before he popped up and down in desperation, "Steve Aoki is the director and when I mentioned you to play the female lead, he freaked! He agreed that you should do it! C'mon [Y/N], please! You'd be brilliant!"

"Is this another excuse for you to kiss me again-"

"So, what if it is," Jimin's hands unlatched, "Are you complaining?"

Though it was merely a tease, your chest heated with a deep shade of red- your head shaking incredulously as you placed your palms upon your hips. You dragged on about another minute with skeptical eyes before lifting your hands in defeat, "Okay, I'll do it,"

"YES! Yes! Yes! Yes!" Jimin grasped you in his arms while he spun you around- laughter being the only sound filling the space of his apartment. When you auditioned, you landed the role on the spot which led to Jimin whisking you into the air out of a manner of rejoicing. Your family cheered you on as well, proud of all your successes in the career you've accomplished. After skimming through the script for Kylee, you called one of your good friends, Maeve, thrilled about your new job. Maeve had played your best friend in a movie about five years prior, when you were nineteen, resulting in the two of you becoming real friends instantly.

"You already know I'm going to be front row when it's finally released," she said. The plot is about a young girl, Kylee, whose parents are spies and so is she. But a fatal accident happens that causes her family to go into hiding, and one boy's father had to pay the price. Jimin's character, Sam, is the son and had seen the face of Kylee's father and figured out the last name he had used when his mission had turned into a mistake. But Sam doesn't realize who Kylee is until he sees the ID cards in her bedroom- which is the scene you and Jimin had officially filmed nearly twenty minutes ago.

The conversation with Maeve then turned into how things had been going for her- how her boyfriend wouldn't take the hint that she wanted him to propose to her, "I don't understand why he's so blind! Like, do you love me or do you not? It isn't that hard,"

"Ah, boys," you snickered, "Shame, shame, shame,"

"Speaking of shame. Don't you have to kiss your boyfriend?"

"He's not my boyfriend, Mae. It's just for the movie," your words came off nonchalant despite the nervous tension that traveled throughout your body, and there were some things you haven't found the courage to admit to Maeve just yet. Besides, it wouldn't have been the first time you and Jimin kissed.

Daydream grinning along with the squint of your hazy eyes becomes apparent while the memory leaves you.

"What?" Jimin chuckles, turning to face you fully once the exit stands between your frames and the outside world. Your heart skips a beat from the way his beautiful smile stares down at you, and deep down, you wish you can tell him that, but the pair of you have been friends for so long, you're uncertain if making these feelings known is a good idea. Despite everything the pair of you have been through, you can't help but wonder if a relationship will bring you closer, or just tear your hearts completely apart. And, even now, years later, you're not sure if you can handle losing Jimin again.

"Nothing," you reply tenderly, eyes checking to examine his worn-out converse he has had since high school, "Just admiring your... fancy footwear,"

"Hah!" He laughs once, laying his head back, "I already told you, I'm going shopping today. Besides, I need a new outfit tonight, so wear something pretty," he pulls you in for a friendly hug, rubbing his free hand slightly on your back, each of you still holding your water bottles, yet you maneuver enough to nuzzle your nose into his chest.

"Since when do you care about what I wear?" Your chin moves to plop upon his chest while your eyes peer up at him with the arch of an eyebrow, pulling your lips into a goofy, tight grin.

"I don't," Jimin chortles, "But I know you do," it's the way he brings the tip of his fingers to your forehead tickling your skin to move a strand of hair so he can see your eyes clearly, "You look pretty in anything,"

If your heart isn't already combusting enough, it takes everything in you not to kiss him right then and there, and with a small huff in frustration, you pull your arms from his frame to then rest by your sides. "Alright then... pajamas it is,"

"See you later, [Y/Nickname]," Jimin tries to say between laughs, leaning forward to press a small kiss to your cheek. The old nickname makes you giggle as you watch him step beyond the exit. Memories from high school present themselves almost immediately gracing the strange feeling of being sixteen again in your Junior year and auditioning for the spring musical where you and Jimin had landed the lead roles. Jung Hoseok, a mutual friend the pair of you gained, congratulated you both with a huge smile many knew him for. You played a fairy who happened to be in love with a human prince and of course, you and Jimin not only had to sing but had to dance, too, which led to Hoseok practicing dance moves with you two in effort to help.

Overjoyed was an understatement though dancing had always been something to hold you back. Jimin is a phenomenal dancer- raw talent to the point he makes it look easy with the way he poises his body so effortlessly upon the stage- swinging his limbs to the beat of the music, emotion etched on every inch of his face. You remember the endless pressure that seeped into your skin building anxious fingers that clasped tightly together when you were listening to the script Mrs. Lee had written.

Saying quick goodbyes to your castmates, the reminiscent disappears for a fractioned moment while you gather your items before sprinting to the limo where your driver, Stan, awaits you. Shouts of hundreds of fans boom instantaneously at the appearance of you leaving the set. Security surrounds the area in case of any danger, and though you reach to open the door, you turn to wave with the best Red Carpet smile you can muster- blowing a kiss to add to your appreciation.

The limo holds a haven you've grown to adore since your fame took off. Shutting the door, you slide to rest your head against the tinted window, politely greeting Stan before your eyelids flutter for the crave of sleep.

Jimin came over countless times just to practice dance steps; every now and then, Hoseok joining, despite the chagrin that haunted the crippling blushes dawning your cheeks. For the last musical number, the Grand finale, Jimin had to lift you in the air by the waist with you posing your limbs exactly how Mrs. Lee demanded leading Jimin to spin you around during the growing intensity of the belting harmonies before returning you to your feet. It hadn't been easy- something you'd grown to learn especially with the helpless moments of him firmly gripping your waist right when you'd jump sending the two of you tumbling onto the ground in bouts of breathless laughter. After weeks of attempting this one lift you couldn't seem to perfect, your parents happened to be out of town one evening for taking your sister to an art gallery about an hour's drive away. Your mother had been a tad iffy with leaving you and Jimin alone, but you assured her that it would be fine- just because he's a male didn't mean that she couldn't trust the pair of you to behave being you two had simply been friends for years, and nothing more.

Once your family left, Jimin arrived, setting the music in preparation for the mini rehearsal you'd been dreading for the thousandth time.

"Okay," you exhaled, carefully placing your hands upon his shoulders, "Now, lift me," Jimin obeyed, hoisting you as high as he could with a swift grunt escaping his pressed lips. His fingers dug into your sides unintentionally, and before you realized you'd closed your eyes, excitement showed in the widening of your smile- he was holding you up! Finally, longer than ten seconds you remained there,

"I. Got. You," Jimin said between clenched teeth, until suddenly, his arms shuddered beneath you ensuing the shape of an "oh" that formed on your mouth.

"GAH!"

Jimin fell backward onto the couch- your side bouncing off the cushion for your gluteal muscles to meet the wooden floor. Stunned, you'd never seen Jimin's eyes so enlarged, but before you could gather your bearings, you blew at loose hairs that were static over your eyes,

"Ouch."

"HAH!" Jimin let out a high-pitched, one-syllable laugh, already covering his mouth with both of his hands to stifle the chuckling, but it was no use. Clapping a few times, he buried his shoulder into the couch while a breathy snicker escaped your side smile. Tears flooded your eyes from the hysteria of the moment- springing to your feet to then fixing your wrinkled shirt.

"Okay, okay," you breathed, trying to resume composure just enough to stop giggling at yourself, "Let's do this one more time! Chop chop!" Hitting your hands together like how Mrs. Lee tended to do to receive her pupils' attention, Jimin pranced to plant his feet in front of you, repositioning his hands on your waist, "Wait," you paused, concern abruptly covering his eyes while he waited for you to speak, swallowing, you began, "Chim Chim, I need you to promise me something," Lips in a firm line, you held his gaze. It was hard to be serious at times with your best friend, but for right now, you rejected from breaking.

"Anything," he nodded once, searching your stare, lips parted, and realizing how close he was sparked a strange desire that you never wanted to reveal before.

"But you have to really, really promise me,"

When a knowing smirk twitched on his lips, his eyes now held the memory that you were trying to remind him of, "Okay,"

"Even," you continued, "If I love beef bulgogi a little more than I probably should. And-" you paused for effect.

"Go on,"

"Even if you laugh like a maniac and I can't take it," teasing had always been something you both loved to do, and bowing his head with more laughter, he returned even closer than before- his warm breath brushing your cheek.

"Alright, alright! I promise! I really, really promise,"

Eyes still locked, you slowly raised your pinky finger up to him, investigating his expression letting nothing but the sound of the starting air condition fill the space,

"Don't. Drop. Me,"

A soft chuckle enhanced his smile causing a pitter patter beneath your chest, while you joined him. He brought the back of his hand to his mouth- something that he does when he's really tickled, and the sight of it made your heart swell in ways you hardly understood. How could someone have such a strong effect on you?

"First off, I prefer Kimchi stew,"

"Oh, you. Ham!"

Shaking his head in amusement, Jimin reached for your hand, hooking his petite pinky finger around yours to conceal the promise you had forced him to make, "I promise I won't drop you this time," he twirled you once like a gentleman, placing his hands back on your waist once you faced him.

"1, 2, 3!" Jimin, with all his might, boosted you into the air, immediately spinning you around. Now think ballet, you reminded yourself, holding your arms with elegancy. After four twirls, Jimin effortlessly set you down and overwhelmed with pure exhilaration, you couldn't refrain from rejoicing, "We- we did it! Jimin, we did it!"

Right then, you kissed him. Cupped his cheeks into your palms and pecked his lips. You hadn't been thinking entirely straight, but it all happened so fast that it took a second for you to comprehend. Hushed. Silence engrossed the room to the point that your heart throbbed in your temples mingled with the growing heat on your reddened skin- perspiration clammed your palms, yet the only thing frightening your state was the attempt on not panicking though you knew deep within your soul that you'd never regret it. Gulping, your eyes fell to the slow fall and rise of Jimin's chest- his gray shirt showing the iridescent silver pendant you gifted him for his past birthday staring right back at you.

You just kissed your best friend.

Jimin stood there, questions swarming full circle within your mind; feeling distraught, your lips pressed together to prevent the tears burning your nose. You remember figuring that he was angry with you, hence why he couldn't invoke any words to speak. But, unexpectedly, gentle fingertips lifted your chin, your eyebrows furrowed in surprise, but that's when your eyes met as if meeting for the first time, the innocence of the moment not once lost while you anticipated the sight of his nervous expression lowering to yours. You held your breath, eyes closing, every inch of the world disappearing. It was just you and him as it'd always been.

He kissed you. He kissed you right back.

With shivering arms, you wrapped them tightly behind his neck while he moved to encase you closer to him, bodies pressed into a blanket of warmth, you never wanted to uncover from. Feelings you had denied time and time again were showing in that kiss with Jimin- a surreal image you never dreamed you would experience, yet here he was, wrapped in your arms- lips moving to relock with yours so lovingly that your mind was rotating. Nothing could compare to the soaring of your heart, especially sharing something so passionate with someone you had grown to love so much, and this new feeling, one you'd never quite endured ignited a curiosity you couldn't withhold any longer.

The kiss grew aggressive, breaths increasing while dazed eyes remained shut, and though track of time had been misplaced, you no longer cared. Hands pressed against Jimin's chest, he gradually stepped backward until the back of his calves greeted the sofa- breaking the kiss, he swallowed anxiously, eyes never leaving yours- collapsing onto the couch before you propped either leg beside him in a perfect straddle. Snatching his kiss rapidly, your palms held his face while he finicked with where to place his eager hands, gliding up your back in awe of how beautiful you were to him.

You left him completely and utterly breathless, and you wanted this moment to last forever.

Everything had been going perfectly until your parents walked in-

SLAM!

The loud sound of the car door jolts you awake as you blink through the mild darkness. Previous memories fade for now, swiping the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand before thanking Stan for the ride. The white mansion stands tall beyond the gate where you punch in a code to then proceed onto the property. It appears your mother is not home momentarily, where as your sister and father are visiting an art show in another town, giving you time to prepare for whatever Jimin has in store for you later this evening.

There's a feeling of relief when kicking off your shoes, parading up the spiral staircase toward your closet that waits for your attention. Sifting through the rack of dresses, you close your eyes to randomly select from a hanger in a mechanism to prevent you from being in disappointment; yet, you find your shoulders dramatically dropping when you peek to see what is now hanging from your hand. You're uncertain of why you feel the need to judge every article of clothing you own, and you figure it has to do with impressing a guy, but you are aware that Jimin will accept you for who you are no matter what, so why are you so worried?

You love him- you wince, because that's something you are still struggling with confessing even though it has been blatantly clear since you were sixteen years old that you are wholeheartedly and irrevocably in love with Park Jimin. And, that never changed even years after losing him.

You remember that night like it was yesterday, the very first time you and Jimin kissed. Caught in the moment of what the pair of you secretly dreamed of with no recollection of how much time had passed. No bad intentions were going to be followed through, honestly no other thought from kissing him was even considered for you; all you cared about was how you never wanted him to leave.

But, your mother, unfortunately, assumed the worst.

There wasn't even a chance for you to stop what had already begun, it was too late- your parents walked right into the sight of you lip locked with your best friend, prompting you to immediately jump off him. The gesture was so quick that a slight headache thudded, and all that was flooding your widened gaze was your mother's horrified expression. She happened to be the first to enter the door while your father and sister lagged, luckily missing the already humiliating scene that nobody would ever want their parents to see. With gritted teeth, your mother's icy glower said enough, but she still voiced for Jimin to leave. Him flashing you an apologetic look while he stumbled to gather his things. Your father had no idea of what was happening until he heard your mother shouting at you for over an hour.

"I thought I could trust you!" Your mother jabbed a finger at you, pacing back and forth in front of you while you wailed into your pillows. "I can't believe you betrayed my trust!"

"I've already told you I was so-sorry-" You choked, wishing nothing more for this feud to end, begging the universe to turn back time, so you could have anticipated of when your family would have returned home- saving you and Jimin from this shame.

"What if we had run an hour late, huh!? For God's sake, [Y/N], you're only sixteen!"

"Mom! It-It wasn't like that!"

"Well, it sure looked like it!" Tears brimmed her eyes, because her heart was just as torn as yours, battling with what she should do as a parent, but also inwardly understanding what it was like to experiment in falling for someone at a young age. Something she hadn't really shared with her children. She had left the room for quite some time, trails remaining damp upon your cheeks before your mother returned with firmly crossed arms.

"Mom, I promise, it wasn't my intention," your voice broke, trying to gather whatever explanation you could, but she stopped you.

"I'm sure it wasn't, but I talked to your father and we came to an agreement. You will finish out the school year here, but once it's over, we're moving back home."

It was like your world shattered all at once in so many different directions, and there was no way to describe the abrupt halt of your heart mirroring in the way your eyes expanded in sheer dismay. "No! No, no, no- Mom, what about Jimin!? I can't just leave him!" The pain etched in your cries haunted your mother more than you'd ever know, but at the time she was doing what she assumed was the right decision.

"That's the point, [Y/N]. You're not allowed to see Jimin, speak to him, or even think about trying to see him. I've already spoken to his mother,"

"But- but what about the play?" You panicked, desperation clinging within your words, not wanting to process what was just demanded of you.

"I don't know. Right now, I'm too upset to decide."

It was the worst night of your life. One thing you never expected throughout your friendship with the one person who mattered most to you, was losing Jimin, especially knowing that once school ended, you would move back to your hometown, far away out of his reach. Your cellphone was already locked in your parent's room, and any form of technology, you would no longer be in possession of if your mother could help it. Bawling uncontrollably, you cursed fate for taking away what could have been.

The spring musical was the only time you and Jimin were able to truly see each other amongst rehearsals; and the night the play began, the pair of you performed with all you had, trying to mask the hurting as if it hadn't existed, portraying as though all was well when really your world was falling apart. Even when the evil fairy sprinkled dark magic upon the Prince's Kingdom, Mrs. Lee flew her fingers speedily along the piano enhancing the volume, imaging the chaos felt beneath your chest. The Prince and evil fairy battled it out until the enemy was defeated, the piano softening to a more pleasant sound that eased you enough to force your face into a loving grin.

The cast crowded around the both of you, but you hadn't noticed, because the only person you longed for, getting lost in his shining eyes was Park Jimin's. "Fairy, my love, listen to the sound of my voice," he bowed, reaching his hand toward you- hands collided tenderly, "Whether ye stay or whether ye go, you have a choice." You yearned for it to be real, that you had a choice- that you could stay with him. Stay with him there in this city where the two of you could remain best friends and possibly become even more. "Just promise me, as each day passes, that ye will never forget thy love or my Kingdom as long as ye live." You swallowed the lump in your throat, fighting tears at the finishing of Jimin's final line.

"My prince, in every dream I dream, I choose thee," though not within the script, Mrs. Lee always preached improvisation, and lightly, you touched his cheek, him flickering his stare between yours whilst leaning into your palm, the Kingdom rejoicing when Jimin pulled you into a crushing hug. The faint smell of his cologne met your nostrils causing you to memorize this moment as best as you could, so you'd remember everything about him. His touch, his hold, his smell, his smile. Anything you could take with you in hopes of getting to see him again one day.

When the intro of the duet is keyed from the piano, hand in hand, you and Jimin faced the audience, smiles as heart stopping as could be, belting harmony from beginning to end, both capturing the audience with every word. Blended voices were breathtaking when the cast joined in, finalizing the night with dancing eyes and goosebumps across the theater, and even more applause when Jimin effortlessly succeeded in the originally dreaded lift where he spun you in the air, returning to plant your feet upon the stage. While the crowd stood to their feet in an ovation, the cast had you and Jimin hidden enough, and although time was ticking, Jimin hadn't cared. His palms cupped your cheeks while you tried to read his hurried eyes, the tip of his nose brushing yours before he captured your quivering lips. The kiss was soft. So soft, and when it ended, he whispered through the loud whistles of the audience to where only you could hear, "I love you," he breathed.

"I love you," tears fell from your cheeks, and he gripped your hand as soon as the cast dispersed into a line, uncovering the pair of you as rehearsed, leading to everyone bowing while the clapping continued to reverberate throughout the building. Although, beyond proud to be a part of such a successful production, nothing could take away the pain hounding your heart when your hand had to ghost Jimin's to find your parents. Your mother refused to let you out of her sight, and whether your parents were proud of your performance or not, you never knew, because not a single member spoke on the way home. Instead your mind replayed the secret kiss Jimin gave you over and over to the point it welcomed you in your dreams. It was hard not to cry when you had awoken, eventually breaking into a fit of sobs wishing Jimin had been there to hold you.

Depression was evident in your demeanor, and there was nothing anyone could have done to 'fix' you, or the situation you felt so hopelessly in bondage by. When the last day of school arrived, it had been the worst, and you and the person your heart belonged to had not spoken in months. Times where he would glimpse your way in drama class, you just couldn't bring yourself to face him, because it hurt way too much to accept the reality that you were leaving. You figured his mother informed him of your family moving back, especially since he never seemed to give up on trying to get you to at least look at him.

That last day of class, you cuddled your music binder to your chest, backpack straps hanging loosely from your shoulders, and you strolled upon the sidewalk to wait for your father to come pick you up. It was a sudden moment, when you curiously turned to lock eyes distantly with your best friend. You both stared, yet the way your heart sank to the floor, all you wanted more than anything was to run to him, embrace him in all entirety, kiss him for what you presumed would be the last time, and savor the moments you would have had with him. But, you couldn't, and you didn't; instead, you mouthed three words that you meant with all your soul, 'I love you.' Jimin bit at the corner of his mouth as fresh tears pooled- he looked down momentarily as if destiny had betrayed him before returning his eyes to yours, 'I love you, too.' As if it could have been anymore of an opportune time, your father arrived right then to pick you up, and in fear that he had seen Jimin, your head whirled to look back where your best friend had been to see he was gone, prompting a painful, long sigh of relief.

It had only taken a week for your family to officially move, finding a much larger home which happens to be the mansion your family resides in now. Although the space was nice, it still took months until you forced yourself to move on from the dancing boy that had appeared in your dreams almost every night. The boy who had stolen your heart when you hadn't realized it. There was an attempt, when you were allowed your cellphone back, that you tried reaching out to discover his number had been disconnected, and despite the gnawing of confusion, you guessed his mother must have changed his number, the same as your parents had changed yours.

Eventually, after a year of returning to your hometown, which included graduating high school, your mother convinced you to get back into acting, to audition for as many things as you could until you found a job. So, that's what you did to keep your mind busy, scouring any information you could get regarding auditions for tv shows, movies, commercials, absolutely anything that would just keep you going. Sporadically, you landed the lead role in two separate movies, gained a celebrity friend, Maeve, and continued into the years piled immensely with interviews, traveling, movie premiers, award shows, your fame skyrocketing to the point millions knew your name.

And just like that, your world became brand new. Became a clean slate. Your past buried behind you while you sprung forward. Your success in the acting business brought numerous calls pleading for you to audition for their movies; businesses were begging you to promote their products; magazines arranged for your photoshoots where you appeared on a myriad of covers- you rarely had a clear schedule, and you liked it that way. Lights, cameras, paparazzi, meeting other famous individuals as well as meeting your fans, you were becoming happy again, you were finally returning to having a steady relationship with your parents, and your sister improved in her artistic ability. You were slowly forgetting about the boy you once knew.

You made callbacks for yet another movie at one point, but unfortunately, had not gotten the lead role as hoped for, rather, you played a minor character which ultimately gave you a break from the consistent moving. Your body needed a break; your mind needed rest, and so you decided to take a short break until you found the motivation to search for another job. The movie merely didn't make it far- critics claimed the plot had been too predictable, but it made it to the big screen regardless, and for that you were grateful. Another year passed, now being twenty-two years old, you and Maeve went on a shopping spree throughout the streets of your favorite city, sipping frappuccinos in the smothering heat of summer, a poster happened to catch your eye. Stopping to read it, the straw of your drink pressed to your bottom lip, Maeve's furrowed eyebrows veered from you to the poster.

"What is it?" She asked, ears perked to the sound of clicking cameras though the pair of you have learned to ignore it. Mumbling the words along with you, Maeve leaned forward, "Auditions being held for a romantic comedy this Saturday.... 9am to 3pm... Oh wow! You should audition!"

"What? Why me? Why just me?" You turned your head abruptly while studying your giggling friend.

"You said so yourself that you wanted to be in a comedy! And, there ya go, how much more of a coincidence can this be?"

"A poor one," you took a long sip from your drink quelling laughter from the incredulous gape Maeve flashed you.

"Are you not going to at least try? You are [Y/L/N] [Y/F/N] for crying out loud!"

You were tempted, and you honestly hadn't been in a comedy since you were... Ten years old. Chick flicks had mostly been your calling though funny moments of course were mingled amongst the seriousness. "That I am, but I don't sit on a throne, Maeve, I'm just as normal as it gets."

"If you define normal as putting your potato chips in your sandwich then I guess you're right,"

"It gives it a lil' crunch," your mouth missed your straw awkwardly, but you swerved just enough to catch it, "you should try it sometime."

"I'll try it when you audition for this movie," Maeve teased, "Which you will even if I have to drag you there myself,"

"You have much faith concealed in that tiny body, but okay,"

So therefore, you auditioned. It was the lead role you applied for which was about a character who caught the eyes of two guys the second she stepped into the school. The movie seemed hilarious from what you could collect, and you were shaking your head in laughter when you called Maeve exclaiming how you had gotten the part as she predicted. Although, she squealed in glee, she was dreading the idea of adding potato chips to her sandwich as she promised she would if you made the part.

The following week, you couldn't wait to meet your co-workers as well as the rest of the crew, and as much as you hated to admit it, you were immeasurably curious of who would be casted as your character's love interests. Though numerous options, it was hard to guess, though your mind filtered through familiar faces in the acting business. The producers and director filed into the room when chairs began to fill, slapping a thick script in front of everyone.

"There's been a slight change of plans for the story," the director said, prompting your eyebrows to knit together as you wondered what he could potentially mean, "Instead of two guys fighting over you," he pointed in your direction, "there will be seven!"

Interested grunts and 'awes' echoed in the space, and you nodded in surprise; seven? Seven men wanting you all at once? That would sound farfetched to any woman, even in the position you're in as an actress, it remained unbelievable. The director rubbed his hands together, "They couldn't make it today, but we will officially meet them tomorrow to finish looking over the script."

It seemed as if all you did was blink when you made it to set the next day, dressed in your favorite boot heels and casual wear- you weren't paying a bit of attention when you suddenly smacked dab into someone who happened to over tower you.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, Ma'am!" He said, his fingers tickling your arms from where he hoped you would stay steady.

"It's fine! I'm sorry, I should have been watching where I was going," you chuckled against the chagrin burned red upon your chest, and you couldn't help but be starstruck by the incredibly handsome face staring down at you. Noticeable dimples rested on either side of his grinning cheeks, and the coffee color of his eyes radiated kindness, and of course, you wondered innocently if he was one of the potential love interests the director mentioned the day before.

"I'm Kim Namjoon," he offered his hand which of course you took, enchanted by his smile, but you scolded yourself interiorly due to the obvious fact of not knowing him personally enough to care on whether he was available or not. There seemed to be a recognition in his countenance that you typically notice when people realize who you are, and you couldn't help the flattery when his hand still latched to yours picked up the pace while shaking it. "Oh my gosh! You're the [Y/L/N] [Y/F/N]! My girlfriend loves you!"

"That is so sweet of her," you were still blushing, but deeply touched by his words. Namjoon, dropped his hand in embarrassment from how long he had shaken yours, mumbling an apology, he slid his slim hands within his pockets.

"I must say, I am very honored to meet you. I've seen two of your movies with her and you were phenomenal!"

"Thank you very much, Namjoon! That means a lot. I hope I get to meet your girlfriend soon, she sounds like such a sweetheart," you tried to think if you had seen him in anything that had come out recently, but couldn't place a thing. You continued into the same room as yesterday, pulling your script from your bag, you settled into a seat before observing your surroundings, noticing in your peripherals Namjoon taking a seat beside a guy who appeared very quiet. Long, straightened blue strands spread upon his forehead while his dark eyes scanned the room. His lips were thinner compared to Namjoon's, and they rested contently while he leaned back in his chair. You tried not to stare too much, but when he caught you, you grinned instead of averting your eyes, relief flooded your senses when his lips raised into a side grin in return- his nametag reading 'Min Yoongi.'

When the seat on the other side of Yoongi skidded against the concrete floor, you instinctively looked to the sound, beyond amazed at the sight you saw. You weren't one to spike perspiration on the lining of your forehead just from seeing a man, but with the way his bandana complimented his brown tendrils neatly stacked on his head, you were beside yourself. His square jaw was locked in concentration while his petal pink lips pursed- his chocolate eyes rushed over the lines where he opened his script.

"Kim Taehyung?" A staff member asked, Taehyung nodded in reply, the worker placed the nametag before him, rounding the table to set yours before you. You would honestly never get used to people knowing who you are prior to an introduction considering the staff member had not questioned if you were indeed you. Thought aside, you were very taken aback on how sculpted this man was to a heavenly perfection.

"No, I didn't mean to trip the guy, I just wanted some food!" You vaguely identified the male whose windshield wiper laugh pleasantly greeted your ears while he found a seat, "Seriously, I hadn't seen him standing there." He poised his head enough to lock eyes with Min Yoongi, and you tilted your head curiously with question if they happened to know each other. But my, so far, who you assumed were going to be the men who were going to fight for your love, you were quite mesmerized by their beauty.

"Hello, my name is Chan-ri, I'm a huge fan of yours, how are you?" The exquisitely rosy cheeks of a red headed female entered your vision, and hearing her name, you remembered her from a TV show you binge watched with Maeve before. Genuinely, you offered a handshake, her comfortably taking the seat beside you. After you thanked her for her compliment whilst answering her question, she leaned in closer to your ear, "Is it just me or are these guys ca-ute?"

"The one in the bandana is looking better and better," you winked.

"Gosh, I couldn't agree more. And, I don't know if you've heard the rumors. But, the singer Jeon Jeongguk, apparently auditioned for a role,"

Eyebrows raised when you heard his name, "You're kidding!" You gasped in excitement. "Euphoria is literally my favorite song by him!"

"I could rave about his music all day long!" His presence entered the room as if on cue, hushing you and Chan-ri into bottled-up giggles, her winking at you in a way to say, 'we will talk later when the coast is clear.' A man with even redder hair than Chan-ri followed behind the well-known singer, and your lips parted in a silent gasp along with your amplified glance. "H-Hoseok?" He immediately sought for who said his name, and when he realized it was you, he couldn't help the smile that decorated his face.

"[Y/N]!" He greeted loudly, shuffling to collide into your hug, "Wow, how have you been? I haven't seen you in years!"

He helped you with dance moves for the spring musical sparking memories you hadn't reminisced in what felt like a lifetime ago, but here he was, in the flesh. "What a small world, I've been wonderful! How are you, Hoseok? What have you been up to? Look at you! So handsome!"

Hoseok thanked you before catching up with his life- he decided to go into acting when he graduated from Konkuk University with his soon-to-be fellow co-stars Seokjin and Yoongi which all made sense as to why Seokjin seemed comfortable talking to Yoongi earlier. Due to the encouragement of an individual he befriended, in high school, Hoseok explained how it stemmed him to chase his dreams, and here he was, auditioning for his first movie, excited to reunite with a familiar face from his past. He sat on the other side of Chan-ri, making conversation with her while you focused on the twiddling of your fingers. A poke on your shoulder made you jump an inch,

"Excuse me, is this where we meet?" A lighter voice spoke, but there was a distinct familiarity to it. When you faced the direction of where the question came from, the first thing you visualized was a silver necklace holding a pendant you hadn't seen since you were sixteen- one that you gifted someone as an emblem of your friendship- you were confused because not many people owned this specific piece of jewelry, and when your eyes slowly made the adventure to the individual's face, the rigidity paralyzed your frame faster than you could anticipate. Those eyes.

You knew those eyes. Better than anyone.

There was no stopping the intense hammering of your heartbeat; your temples pounded profusely, and he was frozen in place at the sight of you, because of your eyes. Neither of you moved, because there was disbelief at who either of you were looking at- his hair, now dyed, gleamed sleek blonde tendrils parted but long enough to tickle the lateral canthus' of his eyes, face thinned in a mature eloquence. It had been nearly seven years since the last time you ever saw him, and even then, he reflected your confusion, anxiously collecting whatever jumbled words he could form into sentences, but it was too late. The director enthusiastically entered the room, dispersing the moment just as quickly as it came.

"Greetings everybody! I see you've met our seven new cast members!" He grinned ear to ear, gesturing his hands toward all the guys. Shivering, but trying to keep it maintained, you watched your long-lost friend take a seat across from you next to Jeongguk. "Oh, and here's your nametag," the director plopped one in front of Jimin, you swiftly dropped your gaze, gritting your teeth in reaction to the strong waves of shivers plaguing your body. He was there. Park Jimin, as though you were acquainted with a ghost, was sitting right there in the midst of the small crowd, but with the way your muddled state was feeling- it had been only you two.

"Alright, let's open our scripts to page three. We need to review some main points of the story line." The director informed, but you were hardly listening, yet you kept your eyes zoned upon the booklet before you, only flipping pages at the sound of others doing so. Too many memories spun nonstop like a whirlwind, and you could sense Jimin glimpsing at you in the same wonderment as you were.

The trips to Mcdonalds where you both would split a large fry and dream about the future; the afternoon at school when the pair of you laughed about some cocky kid who face-planted in PE while playing soccer; the days you'd go jogging together and joke about anything under the sun; the moment when you two were drawing with your sister, and you thought Jimin's cow doodle was a duck. One of your fondest memories was your fifteenth birthday when Jimin, even Hoseok, along with your parents planned a huge surprise party just for you; the get-togethers with the drama club; auditioning for the lead roles in the spring musical and landing them. And the grand finale, when Jimin kissed you on what had been a final goodbye before exiting the stage that very night.

Nobody, other than Hoseok, in that room knew of the friendship you and Jimin once had. Nobody in the world would have known except the pupils the two of you attended school with. You were aware that if Jimin were to become famous, people would dig deeper to find that the both of you were in a movie together at ten years old, and all the other evidence that would explode within the media. You, to this day, will never forget the anxiety shooting through your figure while you pretended to review the script wishing you had the guts to just look at him.

The meeting ended in a blur, and you slung your bag over your shoulder, death gripping the script, and rushing out of the room where you felt as though you had been suffocating. You did not want to relive the heartbreak, so in desperation, you wanted to run.

He stopped you before you could even make it halfway to the entrance.

"Wait!" He bellowed. People were bustling by without any concern, but with the risk of a paparazzi capturing this moment you knew would need to be private, you ducked into the other side of a large staircase that appeared vacant aside from a tall plant, and Jimin followed suit- you spinning to see him sprinting toward you. For once you then understood when people described something to relate to a scene from a movie, because there was the love of your life, as if in a movie, running until he reached where you were. He was breathing heavily from the frenetic gesture, and understandably speechless, the pair of you weren't sure where to remotely begin. Swiping a slow hand through his hair, he looked so exquisite as he always had, and though you didn't want to revert to staring at the tiled floor of the opposite side of the lobby, you did. Carefully, he slipped his hands into his pockets, pressing his lips together in apparent worry.

"You're- you're blonde now," though small, a hint of a smile tinged your lips, a breathy laugh broke through Jimin's tight-lipped grin that infamously made his eyes disappear.

"Yeah," Jimin whispered tenderly, "Felt it was time for a change, ya know? Have been getting it colored since my twentieth birthday," breaking the ice enough, you found the strength to meet his gaze. His lips parted to then close multiple times, until he wetted them, "As you can tell, I honestly, don't know what to say, but, my God, I am so proud of you,"

"Jimin-" your voice broke, chin trembling from the burning tears when you knew that he was referring to your success, and the woman you have become. He stepped closer, releasing one hand from his pocket holding it out as if to calm the nervous tension.

"Really, [Y/N], I- you-" stammering through his words, you could see that he was blatantly in as much shock as you were, processing the fact that his long lost love was standing before him in all your glory. "I gave up acting in high school," he swallowed roughly, "as you can imagine, I was going through a rough time." He had been terrified to admit the reasoning considering the pair of you had no idea what had happened personally in each other's lives in the time between, and though he battled with what to say, he found the courage to just say it regardless, "When I lost you, I felt like- I just felt like there was no reason to really try anymore."

"Jimin," you whispered as if pleading with him, "I tried reaching out to you, but your number was disconnected- it was, it was disconnected, I-"

"No, [Y/N], please, don't cry- it's not your fault- Please," this time, he inched so close, that if you would have collected enough bravery, you could have rested your forehead at the curve of his chin where he could have invited you in for the warmth you could fall forever deep in. Eyes refusing to break contact, he continued, "After I saw your first movie, there were a few interviews I listened to where you said some of the most encouraging things, and I realized, if there was anyone I aspired to be like, it's you." Surprise lingered in your expression, because how could any of this be real? You knew stories like this were only filmed for the interest of the world, so how could someone you once cherished return out of the blue to tell you exactly what you needed to hear? "You, [Y/N], are the reason why I never gave up on myself. Why I never gave up at all. Why... I decided to go back to what I loved."

You were his inspiration, and because of that he ended up here. Back when you thought fate was so cruel to take him away from you, here he was, back into pursuing his passion for acting, all because he never gave up on you. You hated falling apart, you hated crying unless it was for the cameras, but in all vulnerability, especially when Jimin pulled you into his arms where your nose pressed into his chest, you cried. With all the pent-up emotions from a time you tried to avoid, you cried. Jimin refused to let you go until you were okay, and without any delay, you stayed by his side, repudiating from going home when you had seven years of catching up to do. There was barely any attention on anything, not even how Jimin opened his hotel room door without you stealing his kisses to the point you couldn't breathe. Fingers tangled into his shirt, he kicked the door behind him, emotions pouring from the way he kissed you as though he was going to lose you again. The most experience you knew, sexually, was from scenes you filmed with other actors- mostly steamy make out sessions, but you had never personally done the 'deed' in reality. Your back plopped upon the bed, palms pressed on either side of Jimin's jaw where your fingertips graced his hair, his hands cradling the sides of your waist while he continued to part his lips so gently with yours.

"Wait," you stopped, Jimin's enlarged eyes flashed concern as though he may have hurt you, "No, no, you haven't done anything wrong. I just- I just," you trailed off, chest rising and falling to steady your nerves. "I've never..."

Jimin exhaled a sigh of relief, bowing his head enough to where his hair feathered your cheeks, "I haven't either." You would be lying if you said you weren't surprised especially with all you had heard from stories others had told about men when it came to sex. But, at the same time, you always knew Jimin was different. Or, maybe it was purely meant to be, how you two abstained from something that was destined to be saved for the pair of you to share with one another. "I don't," Jimin's eyes flickered between your own because if there was anyone, he had an immense respect and adoration for, it was you, "I don't want to rush you into anything-"

"Jimin," your thumbs ran along the soft skin of his face, halting his words, "I want you,"

There was a hopeful smile that beamed from him before he covered your lips with even more kisses, making your head spin in a bliss you only ever felt when being with him. "Are you sure?" He pulled away; eyes boring into yours as if reading every inch of your soul.

"More than anything," you nodded, lifting your head to touch your lips to his for only a mere second. He was so in awe of you that he would do anything for you, and that never changed and never will. Kissing him was the most captivating addiction, and you never wanted it to end. Still completely clothed- the innocence would have been humorous in others' eyes, but the two of you were learning. And, the two of you were wanting to learn together and that's all that mattered to you. Park Jimin had never made you feel uncomfortable at any point that night, and you knew he wasn't going to overstep any boundaries. The fast pace of his lips sparked a feeling to rise within your core- a new feeling you wanted so eagerly to explore, the warmth was nearly smothering your panties, and you instinctively spread your legs to where he comfortably remained, his hips grinding his clothed erection along your area, where the crave to feel the entirety of his skin was all you could think about.

Breaking the kiss, you trailed your fingers underneath his t-shirt, his stare timorous whilst you lifted it past his head, exposing the rock-solid muscles toned along his arms and abdomen. Your mouth watered causing you to gulp- never in your life had you seen such a masterpiece, even from his jawline to his soft, blonde hair- you still couldn't muster how ethereal this man before you was. Tossing his shirt to the ground, he remained above you, the necklace you gifted him years ago dangling before he kissed you hard while your fingertips soothed along his back, his hand moving to cup your attired breast, tenderly squeezing it releasing a soft moan from your lips. Just the feel underneath your fingertips of his warm skin made you anxious to feel him molding into you- gripping his wrists, leading them to the end of your shirt, Jimin lifted it off you- your lacy bra staring back at his broadening eyes which caused his breath to hitch in the back of his throat.

"Oh," he groaned, "[Y/N], you are so perfect," his words nearly brought you to tears; your hands rested upon his cheeks, bringing him back to you to plant a soft kiss on his thick lips, him lowering to where his skin finally met yours, the enticing move enveloping you all at once, you could hardly contain yourself, exhaling against his lips just for him to brush his tongue along yours. One by one the clothes came off until his bare legs were jumbled with yours, his erection rubbing along your dampened heat, his thumbs caressing your nipples- the ticklish feeling caused your fingers to dig into his back. Jimin nipped at your collarbone, leaving numerous kisses along your chest, moving backwards to kiss along your stomach, the wetness lingering while your eyes slammed shut in utter paradise. He pecked along your hip bones, his hands never leaving your breasts until he made it to your inner thighs. Slithering his fingers to cling onto your quivering limbs, he spread your legs, his breath panting tepidly along your folds, his eyes widening with the urge he always wanted to fulfill, and only with you. You had never experienced this, and though you had heard of the such thing from various sources, you were curious to know what it felt like. Your clit rhythmed with your hyperventilating, him moving to kiss your inner thighs before returning to your vulva. Your toes curled along the bed sheets, your body tensing in preparation- and that's when he did it.

Gently licking his tongue along your slit, up and down, the motion emancipating a high-pitched moan from your throat which motivated him to continue. He brought his fingers to spread your folds, your core clenching while he sped the movements of his tongue- licking and licking until your hips involuntarily began to shift- your fingers gripping the bed sheets- sweat beading your forehead. For a few minutes, he continued to pleasure you, the tip of his tongue sliding against your clit before returning to hover above you. Though you were uncertain if what you were about to do would be done correctly, you moved your hand to hold his erection, gliding up and down gradually, him hissing with how good it felt to have your hand wrapped around him. That gave you the inclination that everything was being done smoothly; Jimin rested his lips to where your heart pounded, then moved to suck your nipple while your hand did the work, his hands squeezing at the mattress in response to the growing feel of an orgasm.

He stopped you, not wanting to cum too soon, instead interlaced his fingers with yours and rested your closed hands against the pillows above your head. Your core still tightening from how aroused you were, both of you held each other's gaze, you nodded that you were ready. Ready for what you two had been longing for. He swallowed nervously, "I, um, I don't have a condom,"

"Oh," you seemed a bit more scared than how you really felt, "well, I mean, I am on birth control for my... monthly cycle, so I don't think... I should be good," relieved, his knees rested on either side of your legs; lips parted, Jimin's eyes met yours, him leaning forward to stay above you- your legs raising to spread in preparation- while his one hand rested beside your head, he took the other to hold his erection to your heat, your shoulders tensed from the butterflies swarming your stomach.

"Are you sure?" His whisper was nearly inaudible, but nothing in this world would ever change your mind.

"Yes," you nodded, breathless. "Please." Your hands moved to rest on his shoulders- slowly he began to push within your walls- the pain nearly brought you to tears- but, you clenched your teeth, forcing yourself to relax just enough for him to penetrate further, his heart thrumming beneath his chest, especially with the pain he did not want to inflict on you.

"[Y/N], I'm so sorry, are you sure about this, I don't want to hur-" he paused immediately when he heard a muffled cry escape you.

"It's okay, keep going," your eyes were squeezed shut, and you eased your body from the tension knowing he was halfway there. Steadily, he moved further until all of him was within you, the worst part finally being over, you calmed yourself enough to stare into his eyes, your breaths increased, yet relief flooded your countenance because now the pain was subsiding just enough for him to proceed. He thrusted slowly, his lips passionately syncing with yours as your fingers tangled with the smooth tufts of his hair- with one hand, he rested his fingertips above your clit, rubbing affectionately whilst sexing you- the building of the fire below causing your muscles to taut. How something so powerful could bring such a wondrous escape you would never be able to equate,

"Mmm," you hummed against his mouth- the sensation of the orgasm finally reaching its peak- him jolting backward, to finish pumping his spillage onto the bed sheets to then watching you unravel from the ecstasy released from your core. "Holy shit," you could barely find words- perspiration covered each of your bodies, the heat nearly stifling yet still wanting his skin upon yours lingered. He embraced you once the sensitivity dimmed- you nestled your face into the side of his neck.

"We did it," you whispered, finding it adorable how accomplished you feel, and Jimin pressed you tighter to him, his fingers running along the side of your arm- him moving to brush a gentle peck to the side of your forehead.

"We did it," he repeated, a large, contagious smile spreading across his face- a smile you had fallen in love with once upon a time. You shifted just enough to where your arms hugged behind his neck- bare chests pressed together- your leg lacing around his waist, his hand sliding to rest upon your hip. The silver pendant entered your sight, and amazement hovered,

"You still have it,"

It wasn't a question, more of a softened statement; it was the first time you mentioned it aloud, but Jimin knew exactly what you were talking about, "I never planned on taking it off," rendered speechless, you kissed him one more time, letting every piece of him whisk you away- and nothing could ruin this moment. Park Jimin was back in your arms, and nothing was ever going to take him away from you. Not again.

The fabric of your dress feels silky beneath your palms as you slide them to smooth out any wrinkles. Makeup finished as well as the curling of your hair, you are proud of the dress you chose to wear- it being your favorite color, and one you confidently feel Jimin will love just as much. For some reason, you feel anxious about seeing him tonight, though you don't know why exactly. You have known him a total of fourteen years, yet it still feels like you are seeing him for the first time with any day he is standing before you. Flicking off the lights to your bathroom and bedroom, you scurry down the stairs with your black clutch in hand, entering the living room in the direction of the front door.

"Well, someone looks extraordinarily beautiful tonight,"

"Oh! Mom! You scared me!" You gasp, chuckling when you turn to see your mom leaned against the door frame that leads into her office; her arms are crossed though she smiles at you suspiciously.

"Sorry, honey. I was on Facebook when I heard heels, so I came running,"

Lowkey a fashion guru, your mother always enjoyed seeing the gowns you would be fitted for events, and knowing you haven't had anything lined up recently, she rushed intuitively to see what her daughter is up to.

"Well, what do you think?" You twirl in place, the dress brushing your knees before hanging in place.

"What's the occasion?" Mom raises a brow, though you know she's teasing. Your mother has always been one who liked to be aware of where you are in case if something were to happen which you know that is how you would be if you had a child. Though aware of your fame and constant schedule, your mother wants to at least know you're safe, especially when you are followed most of the time in public.

"I'm... going to see Jimin tonight," you have refrained from bringing him up countless times knowing it can be a potentially uncomfortable topic for your mom, but you refuse to lie about your whereabouts for fear of something that might not be the case anymore. Distant, you notice the way she seems closed off, like something is drifting a cloud of culpability above her head. "Mom, are you okay?" Worried that something may be wrong, you question: does she not like him? Sadly, you truly have avoided any conversation revolving Jimin; even when he came back into your life, it still made the topic awkward.

Mom bites the corner of her mouth before letting out a defeated sigh, "I'll be right back." She steps into her office, and your eyebrows scrunch in obvious curiosity as to what she is doing. Waiting patiently, she makes her way to you, hand outstretched with a folded picture she gestures toward you. "I found this the other day, and I thought maybe you should have it." Your mother slightly grins against welling tears, and when you reach for the picture, you carefully open it, tears filling your own eyes at what you see.

It's a picture of you and Jimin from when the two of you were either fourteen or fifteen- taken in the evening since it was dark in the background; you figured it must have been cold because you were wearing a jean jacket while he wore his favorite gray hoodie at the time with the bolded word 'Supreme' written in the center. His arms were draped over your shoulders, and you could see the top of a Mcdonalds drink resting in his free hand. The pair of you were smiling so wide defining the happiness the two of you brought to each other on any given day.

"I remember this," you murmur, looking back at your mom, "Our families went out to eat together, and you and his mom were taking God knows how many pictures," you kid. A tear pangs your mother's cheek as she shares a smile with you.

"I remember too. It was such a great night."

"It was," staring at the photo, your heart swells, "Thank you, mom."

When you step to hug her, that's when she loses it- tears spilling down her cheeks while she holds you so close, "I'm so sorry," she sniffs, "We could have worked everything out- grounded you, supervised the two of you or, something! I shouldn't have forced you to move away."

"Mom," you plea, not wanting her to hurt because it breaks your heart to see anyone you know, and love upset. The both of you have held your feelings about the situation for seven long years and never even tried discussing it. Sometimes, talking can be the best medicine- not only do you have to think before you speak, but forgiving the person long before the two of you work things out can really help solve a problem. All one must do is listen.

"I just... I panicked! I didn't want my daughter to make a mistake. You were so young-"

"It's okay, mom, really. I understand,"

"I wanted to even force you to switch out of drama class, all because I was so scared. I didn't even want you in the play. Your father convinced me to let you perform because," she pulls away and holds your arms, wanting to look in your eyes that mirror her own, "He reminded me that we were young once too. We met at sixteen, you know that. And I just remember feeling so guilty when he told me that," your mother looks down for a moment to gather her words, "I could have lost my daughter because I believed I was doing the right thing. I should have trusted you, and I am so, so sorry for everything."

"Mom," you hug her again, "I forgive you. I forgave you a long time ago."

"Oh, it's so good to know that!"

"And, mom, if we never moved back to our hometown, I wouldn't be as successful in my career as I am now. You encouraged me to go back into acting, and for that I will forever be grateful. Besides, Jimin came back. That's all that matters," your reassurance mends her heart together as she carries pride in her eyes on how far you have come in all that you have endured.

"I love you. And, if you ever need to talk to me about anything, anything at all, you know I'm here for you,"

"Even if it's about Jimin?" You giggle lightheartedly, tucking the picture of you and him in your clutch for safekeeping.

"Even if it's about Jimin." She smiles, "Now what are you still doing here? Go! Get out! Have fun, and please be safe!"

Skipping out the door, the feeling of closure overwhelms your soul, and for once, you feel as if life couldn't get any better, and now you and your mother can one hundred percent be the rock you will forever need no matter where life takes you. When the black SUV that holds your favorite driver, Stan, appears, you burst through the gate and into the back of the car, for him to hand you a small note.

Meet me on the rooftop. Your Chim Chim xo

You reread the note with a smile when you make it to an elevator upon arrival to Jimin's hotel- Stan saying to call whenever you are ready to be picked up. You're amazed how little people seemed to be roaming the hotel, and as a normal for you, you scoped your surroundings in case of any clicking cameras before stepping into what will lead you to your destination. Reaching the top floor, you find a staircase that you presume will climb you to the rooftop, so in determination you begin, trekking up the flight of stairs until you pause at a door.

Inhaling and exhaling calmly, you slowly push open the door, rounding a corner where an intriguing scenery causes you to gasp in surprise. Stringed lights glisten, covering every pole of mahogany wood that encloses the area together. Candles are blinking upon an elegant, black table for two adorned with silverware, lid-covered plates, a wine bottle, and two empty wine glasses. Flowerpots are hanging from different sections of the balcony, bringing more color to the patio; sparse trees fill the rest of the space, the atmosphere exuberating nothing but serenity. Jimin did all of this for you.

Eyes searching, you finally find him, in a black fitted suit, hands in his pockets while he stares at the starry sky. Taking the time to admire him, you have always been so in awe of how genuine he is. Treating his fans with all the love, constantly caring for his family, keeping up with his friends, and for always being there for you no matter what it takes. He listens to you the same as you do for him and being in the entertainment business where rumors spread like wildfire, sometimes a listening ear is what one needs. He has been everything you have ever wanted, and he always will be.

You clear your throat, "Well, sir, you weren't kidding when you said you wanted to spend time with me."

Whirling on a heel, his expression eases when he sees it's you, "Hey!" He beams, eyes disappearing from how big his smile spreads. "I didn't hear you come in. How long were you standing there?"

Noting how he seems embarrassed, you can't help but find it irresistibly adorable, "Not long," you promise, watching him step in your direction.

"Good, I'm sorry about that."

"It's okay, Chim. I don't even know why you're worried, silly,"

"Whoa, you really took me seriously when I said to wear something pretty," Jimin reaches for your hand while you lower your head timidly.

"Look at you! You look like a model!" Jimin throws his head back at your compliment, "And, look!" You point at his shoes, "New shoes! Look at those beautiful, new shoes!"

"I told you I was going to get new ones today!" He tries stifling his laughter in the crook of his arm before sliding your chair out for you to sit.

"And, have I ever told you how much I love the blonde hair on you? I feel like I don't tell you enough," One thing you have learned over the years of knowing Jimin, is he blushes just as easily as you do. When one compliments him, he can't help but slump in his chair before burying his forehead onto the back of his wrist.

"Why are you making this about me," he whines playfully, "I want this to be about you,"

"But, it's always about me, maybe I like to spice things up a bit to appear humbling," your eyebrows wiggle, sending Jimin in another bout of giggles.

"Speaking of spice, are you hungry?"

"Famished," you dramatically emphasize, Jimin shaking his head at you with amusement while he reaches over to lift the lid of the plate. A steaming slab of steak laying scrumptiously on a pile of rice makes your mouth water, even when your eyes trail to the seasoned vegetables beckoning you to devour them. "This looks so good," you acclaim, preparing a fork and knife in order to start slicing. Jimin has already taken a bite in agreement. Deciding to take another swoop of how beautifully the décor mingles with the design of the patio, you speak after swallowing your first mouth full of meat. "I wasn't expecting this," you say softly, looking back at Jimin who cocks a musing eyebrow.

"What did you expect? Mcdonalds?" Jimin grabs the wine bottle, succeeding in opening it before he pours each of you a glass.

"No, you brute, the patio! It's wonderful up here."

"I wanted everything to be special." He murmurs, lifting his glass after holding your eyes, "You deserve it,"

In all honesty, you are at a loss for words, because how you ever deserved a man so loving, you will never know. And amidst conversation, you briefly remember the picture your mother gave you before you left, and deciding to make this known, you wet your lips, "So, I talked to my mom earlier this evening and," you prop your elbow onto the table after gripping the memory within your fingertips, the back of the picture facing Jimin. "She gave me this, and I wanted to show it to you."

Handing it to him, he gently takes it, a reminiscent grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I remember this," he says, "my brother actually teased me because..." He trails off, his grin falling for a moment. "I was going to ask you to be my girlfriend that day, but I chickened out." Your shoulders fall a bit though your heart flutters. Jimin was going to ask you to be his girlfriend? What made him afraid to? You open your mouth to speak, but when you find no words, he continues. "I had assumed that it was just going to be me and you going out that night with Jihyun, but, then both our parents ended up coming."

"That's still so sweet of you," you assure him, wanting the guilt that clouds his eyes to dissipate.

"I like this picture by the way." He holds it up and hands it back over to you. "I want a copy."

"I'll print one for you," you pact, his sincere eyes never leaving yours- all you know is if the table between you didn't exist, you'd kiss him. But as if he reads your mind, he reaches across the table and intertwines his fingers with yours; your eyes still locked preparing to say something, but the scrape of the door makes the two of you jolt and hands part. "Dessert!" A waiter lays out two white bowls in front of each of you, to then taking up the emptied dinner plates.

"Chocolate ice cream?" You say as Jimin smirks at your mouth falling open in glee.

"Our favorite," he winks, bringing a fourteen-year-old memory back in loop of the days where he loved to wear it on his face, and you never let him live it down. Chocolate syrup is drizzled over the dollops, a leaf of mint nestled on top of a scoop to complete the appetizing goal.

"I thought you said you weren't good with girls," you scoff, pressing your spoon into the dessert.

"I'm not."

"Then what is this?" you say quickly, gesturing to the dessert of symbolism.

"I think what you're trying to say is I'm romantic," He raises a brow, pointing his spoon toward you. "Besides, I think it's about time that we admitted that we are committed."

A warm sigh brushes over your cold lips, the taste of the ice cream melted on your tongue, because you know he's right. What have you really been afraid of? Was it really your mother for the fear of her still not accepting him? Well, now you know that she will accept him, so that's not an excuse. Were you afraid of the hateful words that would be thrown your way if the press were to confirm a relationship between you two? In the end, it's about you and Jimin, and despite hate, what would it matter if the world knew? Candidly, you want to protect him from the media, but your strong feelings of keeping him safe are equal to how much he wants to keep you safe.

What really scares you, more than anything, is losing him again. And, you have remained in this strange thought that if the pair of you stayed simply friends that maybe it would prevent heartbreak. Others, for example Maeve, you know would be highly confused by your thought process on the entire subject because why not be in a relationship with him when you both already seem like you are in one? What's crazy is you know Jimin loves you more than anything in this world, you can feel it, yet the pair of you have not said it since you were sixteen years old. The couple years of him returning made you fall in love with him all over again, and the truth is:

You would love to be his girlfriend. You would love to just be his forever.

Before you can respond, the subtle sound of a guitar begins to play through speakers you notice are hanging a distance behind the flowerpots. As if on cue, Jimin stands to his feet, patting his lips daintily with a crumpled napkin before tossing it on the table. "You want to dance?" He asks you, offering his hand.

"Always," he leads you to a secluded spot upon the balcony, and his arm rests behind your back. The volume of the music rises just a notch, you squeeze his shoulder once before resting your head on his chest. The side of his chin brushes your forehead while he sways you so gently, and merely getting lost in the feel of him. Your heart pounds to the rhythm of the song, and you swallow against the nerves enveloping your chest, and you let the song finish into the start of the next one, when you pull away enough to gaze into his eyes. Concern etches in his irises the second he sees you, slowly swaying to a halt. "Jimin," you breathe, fingers tightening their hold on his hand and his shoulder unintentionally, but he is ready to hear what you have to say, no matter what it may be. "Jimin, I know the past two years have not only been the most trying, but they also have been the most rewarding," you timidly drop your gaze to the silver necklace he has resting on the collar of his shirt before returning to stare at him once again, "I am in love with you, and I am ready beyond belief to let the world know it."

Nothing will ever be more magical than watching Jimin's smile grow, and the second it does, Jimin puts both hands on your waist, hoisting you in the air, spinning you around from the excitement he feels soaring all around his soul. You let out a loud laugh, linking your fingers behind his neck, your body leaning forward just a bit as your legs bend to where your heels almost reach your back. "I got you!" He laughs as you lightly lay your chin on his soft bundle of hair until he settles you back to your feet. Jimin, the one who stuck with you from the beginning and will stick with you until the end; the one who knows you more than you know yourself at times, the one you can laugh with, the one you can cry with; the one that you know will never want to lose you as long as he lives.

"I love you so much," His beautiful, brown eyes continue to bore into yours and just the pure love in them nearly brings you to tears, and in this very moment, something rings true- that if this man doesn't kiss you right now, you're going to lose it! Running your left hand through his hair, you stop at the back of his head. His wide smile turns into a grin as he leans closer to your face, resting his forehead against yours prompting your lips to part in preparation for his kiss, ready to feel the fireworks bursting in every place of your heart, ready to be wrapped so tight in his arms, ready for him to leave you breathless as he always does. Jimin then slips a hand off your waist and holds up his pinky finger to you- it catches you off guard, but it the most beautiful way.

"Promise me something, [Y/Nickname]." he nearly whispers.

"Anything, Chim,"

"Promise me that no matter what... You'll love me forever."

A tear slips down your cheek as joy overflows you, because from the first promise the two of you ever made to now, every memory you both have shared has been forever written on your heart. And you know from the look in Jimin's eyes, you both will be sharing plenty more.

"I promise, Jimin, " you say, bringing your pinky to his and wrapping it securely. "I will love you forever and always. Now... you better kiss me before I change my mind!"

Thrusting his head back in flattery, he shakes his head at you with glimmering eyes as he straightens himself to where he can cup your face with his palms. There is never a dull moment with you, and he knows a playful remark always has to be congruent within the seriousness, and when his plush, warm lips touch yours for the first time this evening, the fireworks begin, but instead of in the sky, they are literally bursting in every direction of your heart. No camera, script or film can ever describe how real this moment is. How true it feels. You both hold each other tight, feeling not only love but forever. As Jimin kisses you, sparks ignite, both your heads spinning, hearts pounding and cherishing every second, excited for the future.

Like the end of a perfect movie, you can faintly hear the beautiful song, singing the words of your promise, come to an end.

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