#just had an embarrassing conversation about my online name…. RIP

[crushedsweets]

Why are your sweets crushed

Cuz my online name is sucker and I feel like the personification of a red lollipop(specifically these heart ones OR a strawberry dumdum) and I thought if it was crushed it would be cute for creepypasta vibes

[ghostfeather]

okay, here's what went down

first of all, i just have to say i love coming to kpop concerts alone because fans are just so friendly. i know stan spaces online get a bad reputation (and rightfully so) but i always manage to meet such lovely people at kpop shows so i really appreciate the people that kept me company in line because studio PAV is SO fucking strict about phones 😤

so everything is a blur because i really wanted to record it all in my notes app but they were moving things along like clockwork so there was no time to even sneak it out.

but shout out to the girl who asked rie about deep sexy at that one libido fansign. we actually stood next to each other in line and she told me that was her and i told her how her tweet may have changed my entire worldview about rie lol. chatted for hours so i wasn't bored out of my mind.

but anyway moving on to the fanchat. i thought i could be chill because i'd met them before but no i was not chill. i was shaking.

i rememberrd to bring an album this time so i could get it signed instead of a flimsy poster (good call because i accidentally ripped it 🥲) and i brought a sharpie so i could write my name on my badge. i tabbed pages before i left home so each member could sign the inside so they each wrote my name, but i kind of wish i had them sign the cover because it took up a good bit of time to spell out my name. i don't know if it was that or if PAV shortened the time to sit with them because it went by so much faster than last time. last year i kept running out of things to say but this time, i felt like i got cut short when i wanted to keep talking 😔

first was mill. i just love him so much and he is so pretty and stunning and his eyes are so big and sparkly. i asked him about if he did any fun things in atlanta and he went on about how atlanta had the best steak ever (first rie last year, now him...and i don't even eat meat) and they also had drinks thursday night. at least he was gesturing about drinks but they moved me along quickly. no marriage proposals this time, thank god.

next was nine. i'll be honest, i haven't been the biggest fan of the blonde on him but it looks super duper good in person. i wanted to compliment him but i just blanked so i asked the same thing about if he did anything fun in atlanta. he just said he slept and rolled around in bed, and i felt such kinship in that moment. i told sleeping is my favorite thing to do (not even lying). i had my nagongie with me but no time to pull him out before i had to move on 🥲

kb was next. i was trying to find his page in my album but he had already found it but i was like redirecting him to the wrong page so he gently pushed my hand away so that was awkward and embarrassing. but he didn't sign my name so we managed a full conversation:

me: hi, how are you?

kb: i'm good but i'm hungry.

me: oh, you didn't eat lunch?

kb: no, i ate lunch but i'm still hungry.

i told him i hadn't eaten much but the venue served food on the rooftop and there's restaurants nearby so he asked for recommendations. i told him about a couple of bars that i'd never actually been to but were on my list of places to check out. i don't remember if he said i should go there after the show or we should go there after the show but i'd like to think it was the former. and then as i was getting up and moving to the next member i realized i left my poster in front of nine so i had to reach past him to grab it. embarrassing once again 🫠

next was junji. his english has improved a lot in a year! no awkward silences with him. he had a ponytail and i really wanted to compliment his hair too but he carried the conversation instead. he asked how many times i had seen them and i told him it was my 3rd time and that i had seen him in atlanta and san francisco. then he said thank you and grabbed both of my hands and said "you're my lyon" 😵‍💫 he asked me something else afterwards but i don't remember what it was or what i said lol. i was too frazzled after that. i wish he had fistbumped me instead.

then it was yoojung. i wasn't too stunned to speak this time, yay! somehow i felt really confident with him. i complimented his handwriting while writing my name because it was so small and dainty, and i told him he looked best in the bedazzled jacket and i wish i had some rhinestones on mine too. he said he really loves denim jackets but the rhinestones hanging from his sleeves were annoying because they kept hitting and dragging the table. not in those words exactly but it was the exact sentiment.

last was the menace. and yes, the menace was menacing. instead of sitting across, rie moved his chair to the end of the table he could sit next to you, which i was actually grateful for because the eye contact felt less intense that way. he immediately told me "hey baby, come on, don't be scared." i told i'm not scared because i wasn't. i was ready to throw down with this dude. he asked me my name and i showed it to him on my badge and he said "okay, i'll write korean." ??? i told him i could read korean but if i couldn't then what? then he asked me who was my bias and i thought WHY would he ask me that and that's when everything i worked so hard at to build up over the past year went crumbling down. i suddenly had a mental crisis so i said everybody. he kept pushing me to tell the truth. and i kept insisting it was everybody so he said, then who's your bias today, so i told him it was him. so he said okay like he knew i was lying but didn't push it further. then he asked me what was my favorite song and i had been hoping for this question since the tour was first announced because i had to let them know the people want dOra maar KOREAN VERSION. and then they made me leave but as i stood up his eyes went RIGHT to my nagongie and my nine PC in my bag and went "oh, your bias is nine." WHY WOULD HE SAY THAT TO ME? WHY WOULD HE CALL ME OUT LIKE THAT WITH NO WAY TOO DEFEND MYSELF? can't stand this man.

but i'm glad i lied because he asked the same thing to everyone else and he would GRILL them about why they liked their bias. EVERYTHING'S A GAME TO THIS MAN. so yeah. be warned. prepare yourselves.

hi-touch was hi-touch. nothing special there. rie disarming me with his intense eye contact again but what's new. their hands were cold and dry and my hands felt sticky from the humidity. i was so jealous.

for the concert, i managed to get a great spot. not barricade which i didn't care for anyway but still very close and right in the center too. the concert itself was great minus the short setlist and the lack of bOss. completely and totally devastating to me. i had been looking forward to it so much since they did it in seoul. the did a dopamine rock remix which is so much better than the original. give me the lOve, bitxx is now my new favorite choreo. they did a solo medley which was fun because we got all the solos this time. i think at one point junji missed his cue to join rie on stage so they kept laughing and then he gave rie a piggyback ride. libidO english version is maybe slightly better than dOra maar english version but still 👎 i've been screeching the korean versions in my car for years, why must groups do this? thank god they put ballads in the setlist. the nonstop choreo last year was a concern for me but we got mirage and O and i completely flipped out. i got so emotional watching nine during the ballads because he REALLY felt the lyrics he was singing. also i saw both his nipples in person. the whole time i'm thinking about how i loved the draping of his jacket and then...there they were. and then kb had to follow suit 🙃 also i thought i was safe not being at barricade but rie managed to still make way too much eye contact multiple times. THE ENCORE WAS THE BEST, LITERALLY TAILOR-MADE FOR ME. we got OOO me (!!!!!!! FINALLY), blOssOM, and angel. i was genuinely so upset when it ended because it got SO hype at the end like we were at a festival. and kb and mill were showering the audience with their water bottles and it completely ruined my hair before the snapshots but now i'm thinking we need a waterbomb festival in this city.

so then anyway the snapshot process was annoying. they did premium first and made standard folks wait until they were done and they were still adamant about no phones but i was bored as hell but everyone else i was talking to had either left or had premium. didn't feel like starting up a conversation with anyone new because i was getting people-d out by then. i only got nine and yoojung since i got the rest of the members last year. when i got up to nine, i tripped right in front of him and he reached out and caught me 😵‍💫 nothing monumental happened with yoojung, thank goodness. the photos turned out well so i left but i was beginning to wish i had also bought a mill ticket but oh well.

and that's pretty much it! i'll post some videos later.

[unfoundhoney]

dream team!reader ; first meeting ↠

↠ platonic!dream team x fem!reader ; fluff

↠ read first : being a member of the dream team

↠ masterlist

okay look

i’m just saying- I’M JUST SAYING

sapnap probably refused to believe you were actually a girl at first rip

mans was sour that you had been beating him, dream, & george in cs:go 3v1s for like an hour

they were just so determined to win but 14 or so-year-old you was just like “no ❤️”

(this is set when y’all met in like 2016 or so)

they eventually convinced you to turn your mic on

(you usually never did bc anonymous gamer boys are toxic almost all the time)

but you felt kind of bad & just went:

“hey.”

(dream) DUDE TELL ME IF YOU ARE HACKING RIGHT NOW I SWEAR TO GOD-

(sap) ARE YOU A GIRL I’M GOING TO KILL MYSELF NO-

(george) *is literally just laughing bc of sap & dream*

& despite being yelled at, this is one of the most positive responses you’ve had to unmuting

tragic

(you, containing your laughter) um, no, i’m not hacking & yeah, i am a girl

(sapnap, getting quieter as he walks away from his headset) I’M GOING TO HANG MYSELF DON’T TALK TO ME

(george, mildly embarrassed) ignore him, his ego’s been bruised

(you) yea.... sorry about that (〃. . )

(dream) you’re seriously not cheating? please tell me if you are i’ve been losing my mind

(you) i’m seriously not cheating. i just have no friends & study head tracking techniques in my free time

(dream) i hate to admit it but you are seriously a fucking amazing sniper, jesus christ

(sap, returning) woah, did dream just compliment someone?

(dream) yeah, cuz she’s better than you

(sap) (•ˋ _ ˊ•) fuc u

(dream) can we replace sap with... *reads your username* okaymelon?

(you) it’s y/n

(sap) YOU CAN’T REPLACE ME WITH SOMEONE YOU JUST MET DOES OUR FRIENDSHIP MEAN NOTHING TO YOU????!!!

(george, ignoring sapnap) alright, so, y/n! it’s nice to meet you

(you, giggling) it’s nice to meet you, too

you just kept talking w/ dream & george casually

meanwhile sap in the background like ┗(｀Дﾟ┗(｀ﾟДﾟ´)┛ﾟД´)┛

you learned their names/screen names or wtv

dream was seriously really impressed by you & thought you were pretty cool

& george as well

eventually sapnap chilled out, too, & begrudgingly joined in conversation w/ you

you’re pretty timid & quiet (esp since it was one of your first few times actually talking to anyone online) so they didn’t pressure you to talk too much

they just like included you in their convo & treated you like a friend

it was really nice

you ended up talking for a while & beating them in playing some more rounds of cs:go but soon it was dinner time & you had to leave

(you) my mom just called for me, i’ve gotta go

(dream) if it’s not really weird, can we exchange discord tags?

& like any other time someone had asked for any of your contact info it’d been creepy as hell

but these 3 dudes (yes, sapnap included) seemed cool

however

(you) i don’t have a discord

*silence*

....

......

............

(george) DREAM that is so creepy what the hell?

(dream) god no i’m sorry i wasn’t trying to be a predator FUCK

(you) no, that’s not- i actually don’t have a discord

(sapnap) how do you not have a discord?

(you) when i said i have no friends i didn’t mean just in real life. everyone in any of the games i like to play are like creepy guys in their late twenties or seventeen-year-old boys who rage quit when i beat them

the three of them just burst out laughing

you hadn’t really been trying to be funny but that makes you feel even prouder at getting them to laugh

(george) that last one sounds like sapnap

(sap) what is this, bully sapnap day?

(dream) you were ready to rage quit after the third game against y/n

(sap) yeah because she kept beating us & i wanted to move on but you wouldn’t let us!

you laughed; their friendship is really great

your mom yelled for you again

(you) sorry, guys, but i’ve really got to go. maybe you can give me your discord things & i can write it down & make an account later?

(george) yeah, let’s do that

they gave you their discord tags & you scribbled them down on a post-it note that you stuck to your computer screen as a reminder

(you) okay... it was really nice talking to you, i’ll um talk to you later, bye (＠´ー`)ﾉﾞ

(george, dream, & sap) bye!

and thus was the origins of the iconic minecraft quartet later known as the dream team

more ↠

on your period

[ssa-daddyhotchner]

Undercover - Chapter 1

Story Warnings: Smut, rape, mention of suicide, murder, domestic abuse, sexual assault, mention of abortion, addiction, torture, kidnapping.

Just a mention that these are serious topics and are not promoting anything and those topics are specifically for character development....

Chapter Selection

______________________________

I walk into the building and feel a rush of cool air. Dammit I wish I brought a sweater. When I walk into the office I get called by a man wearing a black suit with a red tie, 

"Agent y/l?" I turned my head and walk over to the man that called my name; my Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner. "Yes?" 

"Can I see you in my office." He asked in a clam stern voice. I walked up to his door and walked inside.

He gestured for me to take a seat. "I see that you have a degree in criminology and criminal psychology."

"Yes sir." I started to rub my thump over my fingers. "Why the BAU", I couldn't read the emotions on his face. He was like stone. "I've always been interested in criminals and their behavior the why was the question I constantly asked myself when I'd see or read a story of a crime." 

He doesn't say anything he just looks. His brows furrowed with his eyes focused on my body language.

"Okay", Hotch stands up and holds out his hand. I follow his movements and shook his hand. He walks out from behind his desk and walks to the railing outside. "I'd like to introduce you to Agent y/n y/l."

A crowd of 6 people came around from all over the bullpen. Hotch pointed to all the people; "This is Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau, Emily Prentiss, Spencer Reid, David Rossi, and Penelope Garcia,"

We all made conversation about how it was at the BAU and the types of cases they had gotten in the past. They were quick to disperse having paperwork to do. Hotch showed me to my desk and Garcia helped me get familiar with the system. 

"Hey you need some help." Morgan approached me. "I'm already in the system and I have nothing to work on." He looks a me. 

"I can show you around the building if you want; I'm already done my paperwork and I don't get off till 5 so." I shrug I've got nothing better to do. 

JJ walked into the bullpen with a file at hand, "We've got a case." Everyone files to the round table taking a seat. Emily looks around taking notice at y/n and Morgan's absence, "Where's y/n and Morgan." 

"He took her on a tour of the building, he was done his work." Reid says. 

Me and Morgan were walking back into the bullpen when we notice everyone at the round table.

Hotch gave Morgan a disappointing look and showed me no emotion. "Don't be late. Garica." He wanted her to start. 

Garcia starts ,"16 yr old Julia Martin went missing in Georgetown, Delaware Tuesday night at 10:32pm. She goes to Sussex Central High School, she is a sophomore and keeps to herself, she has a few close friends. She doesn't go out very often." 

Now it's common knowledge that with cases like these it's time sensitive. "Wheels up in 30", We all head out to get our go bags, getting into the SUVs and heading to the jet.

We start to go over the case again. Hotch starts, "Prentiss, Morgan and I will go to the police station to set up, Reid and JJ go talk to the family. 

Y/N you're with Rossi I want you guys to go to the school and talk to her teachers and friends."

The plane lands and we all get into the cars.

Rossi gets into the driver's seat. "So how do you like it so far." He continues to look at the road. 

"It's great I've always wanted to be in the BAU since I was a kid." I look at Rossi, "Is Hotch always so serious?" He glances at me, "Most of the time but he'll warm up to you."

The rest of the car ride is filled with small conversation. 

We get to the school and walk and start talking to her teachers. I asked "What was Julia like in class? Did she talk to anybody that she usually didn't and how were her grades?"

"She didn't really talk to anyone other than a few of her friends. I would try and help her to talk but she would end up doing the work independently even with a group and she would do all the work and as for her grades they were great. She was an A, B student for the most part."

The rest of the teachers said the same thing as the first. 

"Okay so if nothing was going on at school and there were no suspicious people hanging around then they must have grabbed her at home."

 I told Rossi as we walked back to the car. Someone caught our attention. There was a boy leaning against our car. 

"Can we help you", Rossi asked. "I might know what happened to Julia, she was talking to this guy online... she might have mentioned that she was gonna meet up with him." 

"Can you come by the station later we're gonna need to talk to you", I said and he agreed. 

We drive back to the police station and the rest of the team is there. "So apparently Julia was talking to someone online and her friend thinks that's who might have taken her." Rossi says. 

"And she's never met this guy. He doesn't even go to the same school according to her friend" I continue, "The friend's name is Kevin Philips and he's coming by tomorrow."

"Okay everyone we have a long day tomorrow let's get some rest." Hotch tells the team.

We go outside to the cars and drive over to the hotel. "There were only four rooms left so we're gonna need to share.

 JJ and Emily I'm assuming you two are gonna share, Morgan and I will share so that leaves Hotch and y/n." Hotch stares at Rossi

"So you just get a room to yourself?" "Exactly." He walked off going to his room. 

Of course.. "Are you ok with that, you can just share a room with JJ and I." 

"No really it's fine." It wasn't fine. It was my first case and I sharing a room with my boss. Not just my boss but someone I found attractive. 

Hotch grabs the key and we walk to the room. He walks in, drops his stuff on the chair and I just look at him then the bed. "What is it?"

"Um there's only one bed."

He looks at the bed and then the floor. "If it bothers you I can sleep on the floor I dont mind." 

"No, it's ok, it's a large bed." He then turns around, grabs a towel and hops into the shower. I heat up our leftovers from lunch; I know he hasn’t eaten since this afternoon. 

I put on some music and I start to change into a black crop top and grey sweatpants when he walks out of the bathroom. 

I don't notice him at first but I can feel his eyes traveling up my body. I turned around and he's looking at me and I was staring at him. 

He was buff, not ripped, but perfectly toned. You could clearly tell he had abs and a V line that went straight to..... I hadn't put on my clothes yet I was only in a black lace bra and some matching underwear.

He kept staring and I was too lost in thought to do anything about it. "I'm sorry", and he turned around and walked back into the bathroom out of embarrassment. "It's ok Hotch really." 

"You sure." "Yes I'm sure." He walked back out with just the towel when I finished changing. While I was eating at one of the desks. 

There was a mirror in front of me and I could see him perfectly. While I was chewing I could hear a faint voice. "y/n...y/n" I snapped to look up at his eyes through the mirror. 

"Uhh you were staring." I didn't answer but I didn't have too. The brush rose to my cheeks and he could tell.

"You made my food?", "Yeah i knew you hadn't eaten so I figured."

Once I finished I turned off most of the lights as Hotch was still awake; I crawled under the covers and drifted off to sleep.

Aaron POV

I finished up eating the food she made me. I noticed the music she had on was still playing, the song was Brian Crain - Earth. 

She was already sleeping...she looked so beautiful and peaceful. I turned off the music and crawled into bed. She didn't move and I went to sleep. 

I woke up at 2am and her arms wrapped around my torso. Her head was laying on my chest; I slowly got up and went to the bathroom. I looked into the mirror and saw the sweat through my shirt so I took it off.

I went back into bed and right as I put one foot in she grabs my hand and pulls me toward her.

I'm now laying next to her with my arm wrapped around her back with my hand on her waist. She pulls me closer to her, puts her head back on my chest, and put a hand at the base of my neck. 

"Where'd you go", she whispered into my ear. I got chills that ran up and down my spine.

"I had to go for a second but I'm back now", my voice was soft and low almost a whisper as I didn't wanna wake her even more. It was nice, I did like her. 

She nestles her head in the crook of my neck. I felt her breath on my body. We both just drift in each other's arms.

She's just so beautiful... everything about her. The dips and curves of her body to the sound of her voice.

I notice something though, the scars running down her back. Like someone had dragged a knife down it.

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

I woke up first again this time; it was 6am. I didn't wanna wake y/n so I just stayed in bed laying down looking at her. 

This time she wasn't holding me, she was almost on top of me; I could feel her heart beat at a steady pace. Her legs were on mine, her face nestled into my chest and her arms around my body. 

I put my hands on her holding her close. After about 10min she started to open her eyes. "Hey", I said with a soft tone. Surprisingly she looked at me and didn't visibly freak out but her heart rate was picking up, she closed her eyes and tightened her grip. 

"How'd you sleep", I asked her and she looked down at my chest. "It was good", She said lazily. Y/N let out a loud sigh and got up into the bathroom. 

The heat that was next to me started to fade away as her side of the bed got cold. I heard the shower turn on when I went to get some food. 

When I came back she was out of the shower and dressed. "I got you some coffee." She took it from my hand and waited for me to get ready for work.

Y/N POV

Oh my god, I was sleeping on my boss....all night. I enjoyed it- he didn't get up when he saw me. Did he enjoy it too?

I get out of the shower and Hotch is gone. I started to get changed; I put on a white dress shirt and a black slacks with black heels. I hear someone knock at the door. 

It was Hotch holding some coffee and two muffins. "I got you some coffee." He said holding it out.

I start eating my food and he started asking me questions. "So what made you wanna join the FBI?", that was one question I didn't really wanna answer right now. 

"It was my sister for the most part but also the fact that basically my whole family was involved in the government."

"Why your sister?", He looked at me studying seeing how I was reacting. When he asked that question my heart sank into my stomach. "She-", I was trying not to cry; I took a big gulp. 

"She was murdered when I was teenager, I was the one who found the body...It was a long time ago but it still hurts", tears started to fill my eyes and my face was getting red. I looked up for a moment trying to blink the tears away. 

There was a flash of regret in his eyes, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to get upset." 

"No it's okay you didn't know." I was trying to hold it together clearly it wasn't working when he walked over to me, he put his arms around my waist and back and hugged me. 

I was caught off guard by the sign of affection but I put my arms around him and hugged him tight. 

"it's okay, I'm sorry." A few tears managed to escape from my eyes; they rolled down my face they were absorbed by his shirt. He cupped my face and wanted me to look at him. 

He didn't say anything, he used his thumb to wipe the tears that were still falling from my face and hugged me again.

I started to calm down in his arms listening to his breathing. I felt protected, secure, and warm. Being in his embrace was like a shield; nothing else mattered. 

Time skip

While waiting for Kevin to get here we all are gathered around talking. I walked over to Reid; he has his nose buried in a book, "Hey." He looked up at me. "Hey", "How's it going." I was getting a little nervous running my thumb along my other fingers. 

He seemed to notice when his face softened a bit. "Good"

"Look I'm sorry in advance I'm not really good with conversation." I said as he stood up from the chair. "It's okay neither am I, I always worry if I'm saying too much or saying the wrong thing." 

Knowing there was someone else on the team that was also awkward it was comforting. "Well since we'll be working together a lot how about when we finish this we go get a cup of coffee." 

His shoulders eased and his eyes lit up. "Yeah I'd like that." I can tell the corners of his mouth were turning up and his cheeks were slightly pink. 

Reid sat back down when I walked away he looked slightly disappointed but resumed reading. I was about to talk to Morgan but Kevin walked into the station. 

JJ walked up to him, "Kevin?" He nodded. "Follow me", JJ brought him to a back office and sat him down. "Before Julia left did she say anything to you."

Kevin started, "I might be her best friend but she didn't tell me much only that she'd been talking to him for a few months and that he wanted to meet up with her. She said his name was Danny. He went to another high school but she didn't say which one, he was 17, and lived near Middletown or New Castle; I don't remember which. If it were up to her she wouldn't have told me at all, I was bugging her about it and she finally let it out." 

Morgan called Garcia, "Hey baby girl, Do you think you can trace her phone?", then Garcia started talking "Honey if you don't think I can do that then your in for a surprise on what I can do." Morgan laughed. He's obviously the flirty one. 

"Her phone is off best I can do is get the last known location....and that is in...New Castle Glasgow Park, its roughly an hour and 30 away." "Alright thanks babygirl"

"I'll call you back if it goes online." She ended the phone call and told the team.

Reid looked at Hotch, Morgan and I. "Either that's where they took her or she really didn't wanna get caught", I stated. 

"Y/N and I will drive up there." Hotch glances at me and nodded his head towards the door. 

The drive with Hotch was nice. We talked and I learned he had a brother in New York that works as a chef. His dad was a lawyer and his mom was a nurse. He likes dogs, Bon Jovi, and the beatles. 

I told him more about my sister, how my mom was a Marine and my dad was a detective. I told him I liked the beatles, cold weather, and Elvis. 

When we got to the park we noticed there was no one there, it was silent and secluded. "Walk with me", I tugged his hand gesturing to follow me. "Were on a case", "I know were just looking around." 

His eyes looked down at my hand on his, I let go and my cheeks blushed, he took notice; the corners of his mouth turning upwards. There was no one else on the trail.

Trees surrounding the majority of the area. "What did you do.. ya know before this." As we were walking he averted his gaze from the ground to me. "Before the FBI?" I turned slightly. "Yeah", "I was a prosecutor." 

I slowed my steps, "Why'd you stop, you were still putting the criminals away. Why'd you lose interest." He smiled a bit when he looked to the side to see me already looking at him. 

"I don't know, I guess it was because I was tried of it. When those cases came to me they had already committed the crime. I guess I thought I wasn't doing enough. I wanted to get them before those cases reached my desk." 

We were approaching some of the wooded pathways that broke of in two directions.

That's when we stopped, I walked in front of him and kept my eyes of the ground before looking up. 

"Well sir congrats you were successful. I mean think of how many lives you've saved based on that one decision you made." His eyes softened and his face eased his shoulders dropped, he was relaxed. 

"What's that", he points to the ground in front of one of the gates by the woods. I bend down and grabbed it, "It's a phone. Still has power, no password." 

Hotch calls Garcia, "Hello sir what can I do you for." "Can you run a number for me...302-555-4276." After a few seconds and the sound of typing she speaks. 

"The number is registered to a.. Julia Martin. Sir, that's her phone" Hotch ends the call. 

"The phone was in front of the woods if you were taking someone to a public park to meet with them the woods would be an easy exit", He states. 

Hotch gestures me to continue walking into the woods I look at him then the woods. "No you're going first", I put my hands up and he stares down and chuckles. "You scared?", I shrug and grin, "Maybe."

"Think about it in the movies where do the people go missing" I pause before continuing, "the woods and I'm not gonna be one of those people." 

While he's stiffing a laugh I follow behind him. It's starting to get dark so we pick up the pace. We go on for 2 miles before I stop him, "Right there", I point to a broken house at a clearing.

I remove my gun, he takes the back while I stay in the front with my gun raised. 

I hear Hotchs footsteps through the house, I walk in the front door; seeing nothing but broken chairs, torn wallpaper, and rotting wood. He signals me to go upstairs. 

The floor creaking below me feeling like it's going to fall any second. I get to the top and check the rooms. There's a chair in the middle of the room, blood on the walls and clothes covering the floor but they are worn and discolored. They've been for awhile. 

As I go back downstairs I fall through into the basement, "Fuck!". "Y/N what happened, are you okay." "I'm fine", I say strained. I slammed my back on the concrete knocking the wind out of me. 

I hear something moving in the room with me. "Hotch there's something down here." I call out to him yelling in a whisper. 

[unholyhelbig]

Title: Centerfold

Ship: Beca Mitchell/ Chloe Beale

She heard it before she saw it, the incessant chattering of her male coworkers. It was the same every single morning; a bunch of men with half-suits, or suit jackets, or loose ties, standing around a coffee machine that whirred and sputtered. They didn’t’ have a literal water cooler, but Beca knew if they did, they would be swarming like gnats to honey-soaked bread.

“Look what I have?” Jason said.

“Oh, shit dude,” Rick said.

Beca clenched the corner of the fridge tighter and leaned into the cold scent of cheese and half-rotted vegetables. She scanned the Tupperware containers that were stacked liked Tetris and tried to hear them over the hum of the Maytag. It was hard, but not impossible.

“She is… well, she is magnificent.”

She. Well, that didn’t’ narrow anything down. It could be a boat or a car or even a damn pool noodle. Anything that they could objectify and name and own. And really it was just as degrading as it sounded but in this case, they seemed to be talking about a magazine. A playboy that had the back folded over.

Her fellow Coders leaned with their backs to the coffee machine, each in pale button-downs, each practically drooling over whatever page they had turned to. Beca clenched her jaw and let the fridge fall shut with a muffled bang. Not muffled enough to keep her usually unnoticed presence under wraps.

They looked like well-groomed deer in headlights.

Jason snatched the magazine from his counterpart and hid it behind his back. Color blossomed against his cheeks and he started to squirm. “Nothing,”

“Nothing? Because it looks like a porn magazine to me.” She held her hand out and flexed her fingers. It was the universal sign for wanting him to hand over whatever wasn’t there. He eyed her suspiciously, then looked at Rick, then back at Beca before he shoved it forward.

She smiled and flipped right to the page that they were gawking at. Because not only did she feel kind of excluded from a mostly male office, but she also liked the deflated expressions that Rick and Jason wore like masks.

The picture was a mostly modest one if you didn’t count the placement of the woman. Most of this stuff was online now and it was rare to see a magazine in the first place. But this dawned a classic centerfold image of a woman. Her legs spread and the part that kept everyone guessing cut expertly with the spine. There was tan skin and curly russet hair, hand fingers dawned in gold rings.

She lifted an eyebrow because this was the thing her coworkers were gawking at? Not even a full picture. But it was enough to get them embarrassed and aroused and she never really understood why. Her eyes flicked down to the corner; in neat cursive writing, sat a name. Chloe Beale.

Beca had to stifle a cough, more of a choke after her throat dried entirely. She had to keep a cool face, but some red color must have gotten to her cheeks because now Jason was grinning like a fool again. He shoved his elbow into Rick’s arm.

“Nice, huh?”

“Yeah,” Beca croaked. She shut the magazine “Mind if I keep this? Just for a bit?”

Rick spoke to his friend “I mean sure, just don’t forget to lock the bathroom door behind you.”

Beca fought the urge to roll her eyes, but she did anyway. “Yeah, whatever.”

She tucked the magazine under her arm and left the breakroom then. There was a cacophony of typing and she nodded at a few people that offered her smiles as she walked towards her corner office. She beckoned her assistant as she walked with her free hand and closed the door behind them.

They had given her the space for “Human Relations” but the main reason for the privacy lay in the fact that Beca knew how to calmly talk down anyone, except for herself. She would have them leaving with a smile and a feeling of accomplishment even if she spun the bad news about sales in a different way. It was all about perspective, and right now her perspective was in shambles.

Emily closed the door behind them and stood there expectantly. She watched as Beca drew the blinds on the windows leading towards the office. She paced a few times, magazine in hand before stopping and staring at her assistant.

“Are you going to fire me?” Emily asked “Because if you are, just rip the bandage off Beca. I can take it.”

“I’m not going to fire you, Em”

There was a thick sigh of relief. It didn’t’ last long. Beca turned the page to the centerfold image once more and shoved it towards her friend. She frowned at it for a moment. “Oh?”

It took Emily the same amount of time to figure out the caption. She had turned the magazine vertically, her deep eyes widening and her mouth forming a thin line. “Oh! Oh my god.”

“It’s Chloe,”

“Your Chloe.”

Yes, her Chloe. Not anymore- it had been years since they had seen each other and even more time since they had spoken more than two sentences. But Beca didn’t’ think her childhood flame would turn towards nude modeling, and she didn’t’ figure that she would be the watercooler discussion of the day.

Her blood was running cold and she had to sit down. Instead, she settled for leaning against the edge of the desk and squeezing the bridge of her nose. She didn’t’ want to look at it, she didn’t’ want to think about her first girlfriend posing like that.

I mean- Chloe had every right to do so but that didn’t’ make her jaw drop any higher. “She looks nice,”

“Not helping, Emily.”

“Sorry, it’s just” The girl threw the magazine back on the desk. “You should reach out to her. The two of you… God the two of you had everything. There wasn’t’ one kid who didn’t idolize what you had.”

Beca nodded. She knew that, to a certain degree. They had met in middle school and stayed together until College. God, college was an absolute dampener and long-distance didn’t’ work for anyone, not even the strongest of people. They had been named homecoming queens both Junior and Senior year, only to break up on Beca’s porch in the stifling summer heat months later.

Emily the wide-eyed freshmen, the innocent friend. The one who Beca went to when she needed cheering up. They mixed all the flavors of Slurpee together at the local 7/11 and made something they called the Frankenice. It was stupid and tasted horrible but it made her feel better, and then it made her feel worse enough to throw up on the sidewalk.

That was years ago, and they had grown into adults. Beca didn’t’ try to contact Chloe, but she did look up her socials in vain. She was pretty; gorgeous and interesting and nothing ever hinted towards this. Not that it was bad and not that she disapproved of the lifestyle, but it made her ache. It made her regret not reaching out sooner. And that made her want to throw the magazine across the room.

“Wouldn’t it be kind of… I don’t know, obvious if I message her right after this thing printed?”

“Half the city is probably messaging her right now,” Emily blew air out of her nose but settled at the pointed glare she received “Look- she probably misses you. You guys didn’t end on bad terms, right? Just not ideal ones.”

Beca rounded her desk and flopped down in her chair. She pulled open her laptop, not blinking an eye when Emily pressed against her back and stared as she pulled open the tab for Instagram. She typed in Chloe Beale and her profile popped up along with four or five fan accounts for her. And Beca had been stupid not to do this before.

They pulled up her feed and Beca felt like she was intruding, but she wasn’t. This was a public and popular profile with pictures of Chloe in bikinis smiling widely and then a few of her at the mansion itself. But most were just joyous and filled her with warmth. She clicked on the messages, open to the public. She typed something and let it linger.

Emily scoffed, hitting the back of the chair. “Hey?... Really? That’s what you’re going with? What are you, Ten?”

“Okay, okay! What would you write?”

“Move please,” Emily shoved Beca to the side and spoke while her fingers worked against the keyboard. “Hey Chloe, how have you been? I know we haven’t spoken in years, but I would love to catch up. If you’re ever in New York, we should grab a drink or coffee.”

She sent it before Beca could object about it being too formal, or not formal enough. Emily shut the laptop and stood back. She was proud of herself and wore the smile that showed it. “Don’t touch that until tomorrow. Play hard to get even though you’re the one initiating conversation.”

“I-“

“No buts, even if she messages back right now, you don’t touch. No.” Emily pointed a finger at her. “I know how this works, I’m still in the dating scene.”

“And I’m not?” Beca asked incredulously

“Please,” Emily scoffed “if you were, you wouldn’t have a magazine with Chloe as the Centerfold.”

[obaby-me]

hi again! can i ask a scenario where the mc is not a virgin and they meet her "first" man? (like, ex friend with benefits?)

This is going to be less about the loss of your virginity and more of a focus of your previous lover. That you have had sex before them means little to the boys. It is with whom they focus on.

Lucifer

When Lucifer had been told that he would need to run an errand in the human, in your old hometown, he hadn’t imagined taking you for a visit to be as stressful as it was.

Initially, it had been lovely, strolling through the streets as you lead him around and introduced him to the various streets and stores and shared with him your memories of each with family and with friends.

One friend in particular seemed to jump into every memory. To say he was a little jealous that this friend had more memories with you than he did would be an understatement. But Lucifer had barely known you a year, it was to be expected, so he swallowed it down in to deepest pit of him. He wanted to just enjoy his time with you and not constantly wonder.

And then you met up and introduced Lucifer to said friend, and Lucifer’s felt that tense ball in his gut rise into his chest.

They were a little more familiar with you than he expected any friend to be. Arms slung around your shoulders and waist and hugs that lingered a little long. You two spoke freely with one another, catching up on old times and laughing at inside jokes that were a little more flirtatious in nature than he was comfortable with.

But what got him to snap was the cavalier whisper that was far too loud to be subtle from your friend, “how you been sleeping out there on your own? You been missing me?”

The way you looked away with a furrowed brow, and wrapped your arms tightly around you spoke volumes of how uncomfortable you were on the subject, but it seems your friend took it to be a sign that you were just playing shy. A hand that attempted to clasp yours was quickly ripped away by the Avatar of Pride, with a glare so terrifying, it felt like an army was parading over your friend’s grave.

“W-well, you know you can always give me a call if you ever do, just like old times.” Your friend gave you a wink, and exited quickly, leaving the two of you in an awkward sort of silence.

“An ex?” Lucifer coughed, clearing the tenseness in the air.

“Of a sort. We were never official. Just a call when you’re looking for a good time kind of friend,” you explained.

Lucifer gives a small noise acknowledging he’d heard you but his head is another world as he considers your interactions with your friend. He’s uneasy.

It’s not that you had a friend with benefits situation previously that he’s concerned about. Asmo has a novel’s worth. But is it still a thing, even now?

A question sits on his tongue that he refuses to ask. Instead he offers that you take him to the next destination to show him around the town.

“I don’t call for that anymore,” you say in assurance as you slip your hand into his. “I-if that matters to you.”

Lucifer smiles softly. He’d never admit that it does, but he’s thankful you know him enough to answer his thoughts for him.

Mammon

“A high school reunion is not so dangerous you need to be this on guard,” you laugh placing a hand on Mammon’s arm. Maybe he was overplaying his role a little, he thought to himself. But embarrassed to be called out on it he gives his usual excuse, “I’m your first man, aren’t I? I gotta keep ya safe.”

You shush him between giggles. “You know how that sounds!” He grins at you in return.

He knows how it sounds. He knows the impression it gives to others—and he likes it. Like he’s special, and important to you—your number one.

“You’re the first? That what you’ve been told? That’s a laugh. I’ll have you know I was the first.” A voice sounds from behind him.

“What?” Mammon shouts, louder than intended, whipping his head around in surprise at the interrupting eavesdropper. “And who the hell are you?”

“Just an old friend,” grins a vaguely familiar face. The way the word friend is pronounced clearly implies something else. It makes Mammon’s stomach churn.

It takes him a moment of scrutinizing and attempting to match the face to a name. While the name escapes him, Mammon recognizes the smug mug from older photos you shared with him the night before—reminiscing on old friends, teachers, clubs and dances during your preparation for your reunion.

This was a frequent offender, present in damn near every photo—one of the very reasons Mammon even came in the first place.

“It’s been awhile. This your boyfriend?”

“Y-yeah, actually!” Mammon quickly announces, looping an arm into yours and puffing himself up a little. He was laughed at, even by you, but you didn’t deny him. Actually, were you cuddling in closer?

“Too bad. We haven’t talked in awhile, but the arrangement’s always still open on my end for you. I’m always just a text away, yeah?” There was a flirtatious wink to which you rolled your eyes in response. But your face flushes in a way that catches Mammon’s attention. He couldn’t decide if you were bashful or angry.

You open your mouth to end the subject—hell, this conversation, but Mammon interjects, curious.

“What arrangement?”

“Best friends with the best benefits kind of arrangement.” Laughs your old friend, wiggling eyebrows up and down into the air to really drive the point home.

“W-what—“ Mammon stutters, the news catching him off guard.

“Well, we’re not best friends anymore, and there are no more benefits available,” you say flatly.

“Reunions are for reconnecting. I’m just offering—“

“You can keep your offer to yourself.” You huff, taking a sip of your drink. The way your arm tightens around Mammon’s tells him it was time to leave.

“Don’t be like that. Are you still mad about—”

“Yeah, actually, I am.” Your disgust quite clear in your tone.

Saving you the trouble of having to argue your way out of the conversation, Mammon drags you to the exit for some fresh air.

It takes you some time to let the steam out of your system, but when you finally have, Mammon tentatively tries to broach the subject, his curiosity killing him.

Unfortunately, subtlety is not his strongest suite.

“So, your friend back there, was uh,“ he starts.

“Yeah, my first. Technically.” You tell him with a shameful groan. “Turned a good friend into a complete shithead though.”

“Yeah, I can tell.” Mammon says with distaste.

Laughing aloud and dropping your head against him, you hum. “You know you’re my first man in all the categories that actually count, right?”

“R-right. Of course I know that. I’m the GREAT Mammon. I’m obviously number one to you in lots of other ways!”

“That’s right,” you assure him, placing a kiss on his cheek. “Number one right here,” you whisper, pulling one of his hands to your chest over your heart.

Leviathan

“Hey! Wasn’t that account last logged into like years ago?” Levi asks, pointing to a name on your friends list you hadn’t seen online in ages.

You grimace at the name. You had forgotten to remove them given that you hadn’t played this particular game in awhile. Just as you are about to delete the name a message appears.

heyyy. been awhile

“Whose that?” Levi asks curiously. “Do they wanna hop in with us?”

“I don’t really want to ask,” you say, a look of distaste flashing across your features, as another message dings.

how you been

“They bad at the game or something?” Levi asks with amusement.

“Actually plays quite well,” you admit. “I just think it would be awkward if we were to play together again.”

i been missing u

do u wanna hang

?

“Oh, are they uh, like... an ex, or something?” Asks Levi with wide eyes as the messages appear on the screen.

“Or something,” you say shyly to a curious looking Levi. “We were... we weren’t official. We were just friends, but like, friends that had sex every once in awhile.”

“O-oh!” Levi shifts uncomfortably in his seat, his face heating red. Partially due to the subject matter, partially at a irritation born from jealousy.

“We used to be pretty close. We were each other’s firsts. But pretty soon, every ‘heyyy’ turned into ‘u wanna hang’ and then ‘u feelin’ like a fuk?’” Your irritation is evident in your voice.

As predicted, the very next message you receive is,

or maybe smth else?? ;)

“We weren’t really friends by the end of it. So I just stopped responding. Every once in awhile I get another heyyy.” You sigh, rolling your eyes at the message that proved your point.

“Just remove them from your friends list!” Levi hisses, glaring at the message filled screen.

“I was going to!” You assure him. Proof quickly following as you selected the option to remove from friends list.

Levi exhales a sigh of relief, to which you giggle. Hoping to console him, you offer a quick kiss on his cheek. But for Levi, it’s not enough. He pulls you into him for just a little bit of something else.

Satan

With a bag full of books swinging in one hand, and yours clasped tight in the other, Satan doesn’t think there’s anything in all the realms that could possible put a damper on his mood today.

But a stop for a small social event proves him wrong.

An old friend had given you a call to meet up while you were back in your hometown, and you had agreed—after all, it had been a couple of years since you two had last seen each other.

Knocking on the apartment door, the Satan shifts uncomfortably in place.

“Don’t worry so much,” you reassure him with a smile. “You always make a wonderful first impression.”

But Satan is uncertain. This is your friend of the human realm. The Devildom, he relates far easier to, but here he is very foreign and he worries he might miss a custom or two. Do you feel this way in the Devildom?

The door opens to a rather excitable human, eager to see you, and throwing arms around you in a display of affection.

“It’s so lovely to see you again!”

���I have missed you!” You respond in kind.

Your friend shifts their gaze to Satan and he can see their face fall a little. Has he already done something wrong?

“Oh, I didn’t think you were bringing a friend along.”

“This is Satan.”

“That’s an interesting name.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” Satan says quickly introducing himself with a handshake.

“Likewise.” Though Satan knows already that isn’t true for your friend who seems disappointed at his presence.

The rest of the visit isn’t unusual, but there seems to be quite emphasis on the relationship between you and Satan.

“So, this is your boyfriend?”

“Yes! We’ve been together a few months now.”

“Real serious, are you?”

“Yes,” Satan responds with a nod.

“I see,” your friend nods solemnly.

By the time the visit has completed, Satan knows he’s not well liked, but doesn’t understand why. You seemed to have picked up on it though.

“I’m so sorry about that.”

“Sorry about what?”

“About my friend. I think their request for a visit wasn’t so much a visit as it was, well, a booty call.”

“A what?” Satan asked stunned. Not by the concept, but that someone would ask that of you.

“It means—“

“I know what it means. Just, why would—“

“Well, we used to be a thing before. Not like, a couple. Just a sort of friends with benefits sort of situation.” You explain, looking sheepish.

“You used to—“

“Yes. It started with just wanting to try sex out for the first time, and it just sort of continued for awhile.”

Satan pauses to consider this. “That would explain the looks. Jealousy,” Satan said with a prideful smirk, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you to him.

You laugh and nod, leaning against him while you continue your stroll through your old neighborhood.

Asmodeus

“Who’s the cutie in all your pictures?” Asmo asks you one day, as you lay out on the couch and over top of him.

You’re resting your head within his lap, and Asmo idly runs one hand through your hair, while the other busies itself on his D.D.D.

He’s been flipping through your old photos, curious of the human life his little lover has led before him.

You stop your browsing through suggested videos on Deviltube to look up at him.

“Hm?”

“This one!” Asmo clarifies, zooming in on a face in a photo you had taken just before your move to the Devildom. “Nearly every group photo you’ve taken has this cutie in it! A lover perhaps?” He probes with interest.

“Yes and no. Just a friend,” you admit a little bashful, “Always, just a friend. But sometimes, well,” you trailed off and shrugged your shoulder a little. “We, y’know.”

“Have sex.” Asmo finishes for you, amused. Given all the ways he’s loved you, and all the talks you’ve had together, that you would still blush was endearing.

“This photo was just before you came,” Asmo notes. “Were you still together just before coming here?”

“Yes, sort of. We only rarely did so,” you explain. “Like, special occasions, and when we were feeling especially lonely. I mean, we were each other’s firsts. It just felt comfortable to do.” You say with a melancholic smile. Apparently the memories were good ones.

Asmo should be very happy for you. You have someone to have a good time with without the strings of romance, someone to experiment with, someone who could play on a kink that perhaps you hadn’t been able to find in another person (until Asmo, of course). Asmo himself practically invented the concept of a fuck buddy, and encouraged it for everyone. He’s always supported or encouraged others to enjoy the sexual experience without all the confining social rules and obligations and expectations that come with relationships.

But the Avatar of Lust had never been in love before. He was now.

The anxiety that gripped his airways was unlike any other worries he’d had before. Jealousy is not a new concept. The idea that no one might want him, like him, love him, was a constant fear. He built his entire life making absolutely sure that someone around him always did.

But it had never mattered to him who. Just as long as someone did.

Now it does. Now it matter more than anything that you did.

“Sounds like someone you’re quite fond of. Like they have a special place in your heart.” He murmurs, tracing the contours of your sweet face with his fingers.

“A place. But not a special place,” you say tilting your face to catch his fingers for a gentle kiss. “Only you exist within that space. No one else is allowed there.”

Asmo giggles, your reassurance settling him. “But of course, who could possibly compare?”

Beelzebub

“I’d prefer if you didn’t,” Beel hears you say from your bedroom. Your door is slightly ajar, and your voice is clear.

“That’s fine. Delete my number, I don’t care.” You sound tired more than agitated, though certainly the expression denotes otherwise. Tired of the conversation, of the caller, and from the lack of sleep. Beel doesn’t expect anyone else to be awake when he does his nightly kitchen raids.

“You don’t need to know why, just that I said no.” He hears your footsteps coming towards the door and Beel takes a few steps back to pretend he’s been strolling past.

But you seem to have caught on that he was there. You point to his looming shadow that had come in through the door that was his give away. Sheepishly he enters, and finds his spot on the bed. Shifting his legs so that you could plant yourself between them and lay back against him, he wraps his arms around you. He loves holding you like this. He knows you love it too. It is the most common way either of you are ever seen together—it’s comfortable as much as it is comforting, which you seem to sorely need right now.

He kisses your hair gently, softly, soundlessly so as not to disturb your phone call.

What is it? Is it cause you got someone now?

Beel hears from over the phone. He’s not trying to eavesdrop, he tells himself, he just so happens to be overhearing it because you’re cuddled so close to him.

“Doesn’t matter whether I do or not. I don’t want to. Not now. Not later.”

What we have is special—

“There is no ‘we have’. That was the entire point, that was your point when we stopped over a year ago. No strings attached, remember?”

But we’ve been together since the first. Our firsts!

“Yes, and that was nice then, and isn’t now. Stop asking me!” You’re becoming riled up now, and Beel doesn’t like to see you this way. He kisses the hand that holds your phone and gently tugs it away. You don’t put up any fight, and he hangs it up.

He gives you gentle kisses down your cheek, tilting your head up to him so that he can kiss your lips, softly, gently. Little peppered pecks to let you know he is here, he loves you, you are safe. You meet every little kiss with one of your own, a thank you for each one you receive.

Your phone lights up, indicating another call is coming in though it remains silent.

“Block his number,” Beel mutters. “But not right now.”

You hum happily against his kisses, and simply turn the phone screen down.

Belphegor

Belphie knows when you’re upset and you’re hiding something. You sigh in a way you think he can’t hear, but he can feel it in the way you breathe lying in his arms.

“What’s the matter?” he mumbles without bothering to open his eyes.

“Nothing,” you say, sounding rather surprised that he had noticed at all. He smirks, loving the way he knows you so well.

Slowly he encircles your waist and tugs you even closer to him. He hums as he kisses your neck, knowing the overwhelming affection will persuade you to him: either because you feel comfortable, or because it annoys you. It depends on your mood, it depends on the day. Either way, it works, and he gets kisses. He doesn’t mind.

You giggle but try to pull yourself away, not in the mood.

“It’s nothing important,” you clarify. “Just received a text from someone I never thought I would again.”

“Someone good, or someone bad?” Belphie asks.

“Was good, now, I don’t know.” You say with a sigh as you turn to face him. “Was a good friend. Were very close for a time. Very close.” You emphasized. “It just sort of fell apart after, well...”

Belphie, eyed you, patiently waiting for more. He wasn’t one to rush you as you tried to gather your words. Instead he trailed fingers over your arms, busying himself with how soft your skin was.

“I just didn’t end up feeling the same way, you know? I suppose it shouldn’t have been a surprise given all the sex, but—“

“Sex?” Belphie asked, his eyes snapping to lock on to yours.

“Yes. Like I said, we were very close.” You repeated, punctuating very close again, as if Belphie was suppose to have somehow understood the connotation the first time. “Was even my first,” you sigh, sounding disappointed.

“We had a no-strings attached thing agreement to keep it very casual.” You said shyly averting your gaze. “But apparently, feelings that weren’t there, suddenly were. Not on my end, but—“ You sighed again.

“So what’s the text say?” Belphie asked.

“Just hey.”

“You gonna say anything back?” Belphie asked quietly, his insides in turmoil at the thought of you reconnecting with, with... a sex buddy.

You have me, he argues without words—his hands drift to your waist to pull you against him, where he grinds gently.

Catching his concerns, you smile and drape a leg over him as he begins a grind.

“No,” you hum, tossing your phone on to the pillow behind you to cuddle into your needy boyfriend. “I don’t need anyone else,” you assure him, your mood shifting now that your mind no longer fretted over an old lover. Time to focus on your current one.

[imaginetonyandbucky]

The Buy In

Chapter 3: Puzzle Wrapped in an Enigma 

by @dracusfyre

On the way back home after the brothel closed, Bucky logged into Discord and dropped into a channel labeled only with random numbers and letters. First day of work was :thumbs up:  but there were two dudebros who tried to jam up my shit. Wish they would back off, he wrote. The channel was monitored 24/7 in case of emergency or actionable intel.

He waited as the dots danced, then his police handler wrote, that sucks. who are they?

Bucky typed the last four of Rumlow and Rollins’ badge numbers and put his phone back in his pocket. This operation was way more important than those two swinging dicks; between the video from tonight, which was going to be a PR nightmare for the department, and his request, Rumlow and Rollins better be manning a desk for the foreseeable future.

He was pulling out his keys to his apartment building when he heard a car door opening nearby. His head whipped around and his other hand was already on the pistol in the holster at the small of his back when he heard, “Whoa there Blue Eyes,” in a familiar voice. The figure that stepped out of the car held his hands up and stepped into the light.  “Hard day at the office?”

“I’ve had worse,” Bucky said warily.

“How’d everything go today?” Stark shoved his hands in his pocket and leaned against his car, the streetlight casting harsh shadows on his face.

“Fine. Didn’t KT give you a debrief?”

“Yeah, I heard his side. I wanna hear your side.”

Bucky thought about it, wondering if he should put a shine on it or be honest. “KT and Hawkeye’s play tonight was clever and would have worked perfectly against a different set of cops. But I think those two won’t give up until they get back at the person who embarrassed them. Might have made more problems than they solved.”

“Yeah?” Stark tilted his head to the side thoughtfully. “You sure about that? KT's been on the job for a few years now and thought it was a good call. It's your first day and you saw the cops for all of fifteen minutes.”

Bucky shrugged. “I’ve met guys like them before. Don't strike me as the type to know when they're beat. Best thing would be for them to be encouraged to take a long walk off a short pier.”

Stark made a thoughtful noise. “But KT explained office policy on that?”

“Yeah. Only as a last resort.” Bucky tried to sound neutral, but something of his skepticism must have bled through.

“You don’t agree?”

The note in Stark’s voice put Bucky on high alert. Higher alert, since his heart was still racing from before. “I get the logic, it’s just…different,” Bucky said. “Makes sense though. Bodies attract attention.”

“Is that the only reason you think it's a good policy?” Stark asked neutrally.

Bucky hesitated. He got the feeling there was a right and wrong answer to this and wished this conversation had happened six hours ago when he was less tired. “Killing people changes things,” he said finally - honestly - hoping he wasn’t about to touchy-feely himself out of this operation. Between the military, the police, and then undercover work with organized crime, he had been so steeped in machismo that it had become second nature – to those guys, life was one big dick measuring contest - but Stark didn’t seem to work like that. Or at least, he didn't want people to think he worked like that. “Not just changes people, but like…it sends a message to everyone else. ‘This is what a life is worth.’” Bucky took a deep breath and let it out slowly, forcing himself to maintain eye contact with Stark.  “People respond to that. Makes them…mean. Hard. So if you can avoid that...” He ran a hand over the back of his neck, feeling like an idiot. He probably sounded ridiculous. “So, yeah. Anyway. Guess if it ain’t broke don’t fix it, right? Seems to be working for you.”

“We do alright,” Stark said slowly, and Bucky figured he must have said the right thing because he straightened and held out a hand for Bucky to shake. Bucky looked at it with surprise and took it, feeling acutely aware of the strength of Stark’s grip and the callouses on his palms. “Welcome aboard.”

                                               ***

Tony got back in his car as Blue Eyes continued into his building, cranking it and pulling away from the curb on autopilot. If Blue Eyes hadn’t been a cop, Tony would have told himself that he was too good to be true; as it was, Tony wondered if it was possible that the police or feds or whoever had profiled him well enough to give “Brooks” a gold plated script to work from. But it hadn’t felt like the new guy was playing him tonight; his comments had been too rambling and inarticulate to have been prepared in advance. Rhodey was going to think he was an idiot, but he really though Brooks was being honest with him tonight, which had the potential to change things.

At the first stoplight, he pulled out his phone and texted Rhodey.

I like him.

Rhodey sent a rolling eyes emoji almost immediately. Blue Eyes?

Yeah I want to keep him. he’s wasted as a cop.

The three dots must have started and stopped a dozen times; Tony was almost back to his own place when he finally got a response. You’re playing with fire.

Tony smirked. I know, he wrote back. It’s what I do.

Yeah, but this time, if you get burnt, we all do. Tony pulled into his private garage and turned off the car, listening to the engine tick as it cooled. Rhodey was right. As much as he was intrigued by Blue Eyes, he couldn’t put his people at risk by tugging on that thread. “Dammit,” he said out loud, scowling as he got out of the car. “Ten years ago I wouldn't have thought twice.”

                                             ***

A few weeks into the operation Bucky and KT were making the rounds, checking in with the businesses and people on their beat, and Bucky was suddenly struck by two things: one, just how much this gig felt like being a street cop, walking the sidewalks just observing the neighborhood; and two, how no one was ever this happy to see him when he was a street cop. People saw KT and more often than not, they were smiling, chatty about business and local gossip. Most of them greeted Bucky (“Oh, this must be Blue Eyes,” which had yet to stop making Bucky’s ears burn) and were happy to introduce themselves. The ones that weren’t smiling were the ones that had something to complain about: permit not going through, shipment delayed, broken equipment that insurance wasn’t paying out for. KT took notes, nodded and commiserated, and when they left almost everyone looked at least mollified, if not cheered.

“You know, for us playing the bag men today, we sure aren’t picking up any money,” Bucky commented. A couple of times KT had taken a store owner to the side and Bucky, straining his ears, heard something about loans; these people always had the look of someone explaining why they couldn’t pay but it wasn’t their fault, honest. Like everything else, KT made notes and listened politely.

“That’s not what we’re doing,” KT said. “This is check in. We do it every two weeks or so. Money stuff is all handled online.”

“Yeah?” Bucky knew for a fact that the FBI had been working with the Treasury to trace Stark’s money, and, failing to find any signs of dirty money or money laundering, had concluded he must be operating with cash only.

“Yeah. Boss didn’t want to tempt anyone or make them a target.” That was smart, Bucky reflected. Ripping off other gangs was an art form in organized crime. Still, he had to wonder how Stark kept the money transfers so well hidden from the best financial analysts in the US government.

“No targets except his accountant,” Bucky joked, fishing for info. “Like with Al Capone.”

KT just shrugged at that, like he didn’t know and didn’t care, so Bucky left it alone. “So what do we do with that stuff?” Bucky said, gesturing at the notebook KT had been writing in all morning.

“We take care of it.” He took the notebook out and flipped through it. “Not too much stuff this time.”

Bucky turned that over in his head. “So under the Mechanic, fixers actually…fix things,” he said. “You’re really going to call a shipping company and an insurance office and everything?”

“Yep. Well, we are.”

Made sense; if businesses were paying Stark for protection, he could also throw in other services to sweeten the pot and keep people from rolling on him. Bucky shoved his hands in his pockets and was lost in thought while he mostly followed KT around the neighborhood. Granted he’d only been here for less than a week, but so far nothing was adding up to what he’d read in the case files on Stark and his organization. It was making him uneasy. He’d come here with a picture in his head, and a goal of filling in the holes so they could make a case against an organized crime boss; but now he was increasingly realizing that something was wrong with the picture. So when KT told him one night that they had the next two days off, Bucky sent another message on the Discord channel and when he got a confirmation, he went to the New York Library, the big one with the stone lions and millions of tourists. He went to the adult services desk and asked for a laptop. The librarian studied his ID, went to a safe, and handed him a laptop from inside. Bucky found a study carrell in a quiet spot and logged on with an 8 character name and 16 character password, established and memorized before he’d started this operation, and opened up the case files on Stark.

Scrolling through, Bucky felt some of his disquiet ease as he re-read the laundry list of crimes Stark was reportedly involved in: racketeering, tax fraud, illegal gambling, high-end car theft. Armed obberies; he opened up the file on robberies and realized with morbid amusement that even while Stark protected his own people from being targeted, he had no problem targeting bagmen from other gangs, making off with hundreds of thousands of dollars at a time. Tax fraud, obviously; if Tony was hiding all of his income from the FBI, he was definitely hiding it from the IRS. Though as he opened up Stark’s tax statements, gotten from a subpoena to the IRS, and noticed that the document for just one year was hundreds of pages long, Bucky reflected that a good accountant could hide a lot of money in his legitimate businesses and all the assets that Stark had inherited from his parents.

At the back of the file was sex trafficking, which was based on a handful of reports that said that prostitutes were disappearing from other parts of the city and showing up working for Stark. Bucky put a note next to that one recommending the line of investigation be dropped. After spending hours and hours at the brothel chatting to the Widow and the ladies there, waiting to see if Rumlow returned, he knew none of the men or women there were being forced to stay, not even for lack of other work. Widow recruited from all around the city, helping people get out of the business if they wanted to and offering others a chance to work for her. Turns out, most of that building was devoted to the people who worked in the brothel: everyone got their own apartment, which was separate from the suites they entertained clients, and there was an in-house doctor and even childcare in the basement. All the money went straight back to the sex workers, except for this mysterious buy-in that no one had explained yet, and they were using it for a bewildering array of side projects that the women were more than happy to talk about during their down time.

After a few hours, which included writing up his reports from the past few weeks of working for Stark, Bucky sat back and closed the laptop. It was his first month, he reminded himself. No one was going to let him close to the real work of the organization after just a few weeks. He sent another message to his handler on Discord, and when he got a confirmation back, he stood up and walked away from the carrell; when he was about twenty feet away, he saw his police contact, dressed like a soccer mom, come by and spirit the laptop away.

His next stop was the gym; by the time he was done, shirt soaked wet with sweat and muscles aching, his head felt clearer.  He didn’t know why Stark was trying so hard to seem like a good guy, but if Bucky was patient enough he’d scrape past all the pseudo-philanthropy and get to the real man underneath. Stark wasn’t the first guy to be handsome and charming and charismatic while hiding a dark side.

[fenheart87]

manikin

Lukanette 2020 Exchange piece For @the-alice-of-hearts, enjoy! 

Marinette was on a mission,step outside of her comfort zone and again echoed by her technical design professor to be more daring and assertive and bold. She needed to round out her styles and portfolio as much as she could to make herself a more attractive candidate for any applications she submitted or even just expanding her online commissions and bulking her portfolio that way if she chose to start out on her own. It was difficult to just be set in one style and make it big when just starting. Mari figured that she would explore as much as she could before committing to one genre or style, it would keep her far from being burnt out like some of her fellow classmates.

“Hey Nathaniel! Have you seen Juleka?” She called out, walking a bit faster to the redhead who waited for her to join him.

“She was around this morning but I haven’t seen her since. Have you tried calling or texting her?”

“Yup, nothing but silence though. I’m out of touch with everyone’s schedules the more time goes by.”

“Is she complaining she can’t be super Mari and be our everyday ladybug again?” Marc teased, sneaking up and poking the shorter girl’s sides resulting in a squeal.

“Marc!” She smacked a red clad shoulder before they disappeared behind their boyfriend. “Stop doing that!”

“Stop making it so easy?” Nathaniel offered, smirking at Mari’s adorable pout.

“I hate you. I really do. Welp, if Juleka is busy and you’re both too shy to play model and dress up and have proof of it, I guess I need to find a model.”

“I’m pretty much free if you need a mannequin, class ends at three for me this week.” Marc offered kindly, green eyes peeping over Nathaniel’s shoulder.

“Oh wonderful! I found another sample fabric I wanted to try for you!” She did her jump and hip shimmy, ignoring the giggles.

“Only exception being Thursday, that’s date night this week.”

“Fine, have your boyfriend Marc on Thursday, I get your girlfriend Michelle the rest of the week. See you later!” Mari dashed away, giggling as the bright red spots on Marc’s cheeks.

After walking around campus and deciding against searching too far as she still had classes, she was no closer to finding her muse model but it did nothing to dampen her good mood. It was a sign that meant she would just have to explore the in and outs further and stay away from her usual haunts. Instead of using her eyes she decided to let her ears guide her, Marinette glanced around a few times and focused on conversations instead of what people were wearing, hearing the emotions in their voices. With the new mindset, carefully the young designer wandered around and sketched some expressions, new emotions to craft into fabric choices and color schemes to make them come alive as clothing to wear the emotion plain as day. There was a ton of laughter and giggles around her until she got closer to the library. The sound of a guitar drew her in like a sirens song.

Marinette needed a break from all the walking and climbing she had done so far and decided to stop by the library for the few books she had on hold. Skirting around the cliques that hugged the stairs more often than naught, the petite designer made her way into the library. Seeing Max working the check out desk, Marinette bee lined for him, smiling wide enough to crinkle eyes just slightly.

“Marinette, how are you today?” Max greeted, shuffling books around to scan them and write the names on the cards for the reserved items.

“I should have a few books on hold, all fashion related of course, there was one that was checked out but if you could see if it’s been returned?”

“Sure thing, book title, author or DEWY code?”

“There’s several, here’s my card.” Marinette held it out for Max to scan, rocking on heels slightly to a rhythm she could hear every time the door opened.

“Ah yes, you have five reserved and it looks like two have not been checked back on yet. Would you like me to check the return bin?” Max asked, finding the appropriate stack of books and setting them on the counter.

“Yes please, even if we can find one more that makes it easier to study and hopefully pass with flying colors.”

“Fashion has always been a huge part of you Marinette, as long as your heart is in it then you’ll pass with flying colors.” Max smiled at the rare blush on the young woman’s face, “I’ll check the returns for you, be right back.

Marinette breathed deeply to calm her sudden nerves, her friend’s unwavering faith in her abilities always managed to take the designer off guard but she wouldn’t change any of them for the world. While waiting, she filled out the cards for the books in the pile to make Max’s job easier but kept getting distracted by the wonderful music that kept sneaking through.

“I managed to find both luckily, if you could fill these out then you free to chase whatever has you so distracted.” The glint from his glasses made Marinette squeak in embarrassment as being caught.

“Thanks Max!” Quickly she stuffed the books in her backpack and marched at a reasonable pace to the door and only let out the breath she was holding once outside.

Students shuffled to and from the library, stopping to chat quietly or bask in the music for a moment before continuing their way. The solo guitarist was the center of attention, playing a mix of old and new songs. The overall genre seemed to be with the intent to soothe stressed students and teachers alike as they passed by, Marinette could feel herself relaxing and her creative block lifting. Deciding to obey her muse, the slim young woman snagged a bench that was being vacated by a couple who had finished their coffees. Unsure how much time had passed, the designer lost herself to the world of inspiration, completing outlines with notes and vague sketches with the knowledgeable experience telling her to be swift and flesh then out later.

The music had become a soft and sweet ballad, just hovering in the background for anyone to notice or ignore if they were passing by. Marinette took a quick glance at her outlines and notes, polishing little things or rewriting fabric choices, her eyes fell to the musician that she could finally see and she froze. This was exactly what she was looking for, his expression spoke of calm but hid the slight anxiety every time he started a new song. When he suddenly changed tunes and a couple stopped fighting because the music took over made his lips quirk in a faint grin. His clothes were made to blend in, ripped jeans and combat boots topped with a plain Jagged tee and lightweight layered Hoodie. That did absolutely nothing to help hide his hair with the blue tips, was that a tongue ring?! Marinette felt the need to sketch and design and she had to see what color his eyes were.

Swiftly but carefully she put away her supplies and made her way to the musician that was quietly packing away his guitar and removing the tips from his case. The designer caught his attention and when the weight of gaze met hers, Marinette just blurted out what came to mind.

“You’re hot, can I undress you?” With a squeak, she smacked her face with her sketchpad and took a few deep lungs full of air. “I’m sorry! I want your clothes- I just, you were playing and sound sexy- GOOD SOUND! I really like you- YOUR  style it’s mysterious but like nice- I really want to undress you- I mean I-!”

“Deep breaths.” His melodic voice cut through her anxiety like a hot knife to butter. “I’m Luka.”

“Ma-ma-Marinette!”

“Nice to meet your Ma-ma-Marinette. You’re an artist too?” He nodded causally to her sketchbook.

“Yes. Fashion designer. Project.” Few more deep breaths. “I need to branch out and try a new style and I usually create women’s clothes. So my professor told me to challenge myself and your music inspired me and when I looked at you, you’re perfect. That is- I mean, if you wouldn’t mind being my model?”

“So do I get to undress myself or is that your job?” Luka teased with a grin, causing Marinette to hide her face again with a squeak. “I have a crazy schedule but I’d love to help.”

“I have time on Tuesdays from two to five, Thursdays from five to seven and Saturdays after the morning rush so more like three or four to eight.” She rattled off, pulling out her planner to his amusement.

“Okay I’ll have to check my schedule, two of my classes are up in the air. How about we exchange phone numbers and then I can text you what’s my schedules going to look like? It changes week to week.”

“Most musicians do it seems, one of my best friends is a DJ and he takes all kinds of gigs so it’s hard to sit down and catch up.” They traded phones and saved their numbers before swapping back. “Some of this we can do via Skype if needed, you have to be comfortable with the design too and just wearing it to help my grade.”

“Seems like you’ve done this before.” Luka stuffed his phone into his pocket and packed away his guitar, shouldering his case.

“Fashion student, too broke for mannequins so I lure in unsuspecting folk with delicious free pastries from the best bakery in town.” She teased with a huge grin.

“Well then, I look forward to those pastries.”

Waving, they went their separate ways and Marinette had a skip in her step that had been missing due to the stress. Texting her other friends that were her usual models but this time with ideas of clothing to compliment the designs she had drafted for Luka. Everyone had a positive response and she had just enough people for a full collection, Marinette was sure to blow this project out of the water.

- - - 

Luka stared down at his phone with a smile. As far as first impressions go, he didn’t think negatively of Marinette. It was easy for the musician to recognize the spark of creativity making her blue bells shine and the dark circles the byproduct of sleepless nights from the muse keeping her awake to do her bidding. Her song was the dead giveaway, it was beautiful but unfinished with the crash of crescendos and decrescendos in spots, showing she was afraid to stay loud and bold.

“That had better not be another cat meme.” Juleka muttered, sliding into the booth across from him.

“Nope, I just got asked to undress for a pretty cute girl.”

“What girl wants to see you naked?”

“Not naked, she wants to dress me up.” Luka corrected, waving the waitress over so they could order. “Caramel cappuccino and one hot fudge vanilla shake.”

“Design student or art student?” Luka had no trouble hearing his sisters mumbles, even over the din of the coffee-shop.

“Design student, I guess she felt a good vibe with the music I was playing and she got bit by the creative bug.”

“Not the only one that got bit.” Juleka smiled innocently as the waitress set down their drink orders. “When’s your first fitting?”

“I don’t know, I told Marinette I would text her my schedule for the week once I figure it out.

"Well them, you had better bring me back an eclair and a chocolatine, try the macaroons.” With that cryptic advice, Juleka took her drink and left her brother confused. A ding from his phone had him opening a picture of a very familiar face forwarded from his sister.

Is this the ‘go get em tiger high-five from you?

You hurt her and you’ll answer to your future sister-in-law.

Thanks for the vote of confidence.

[levinneheart]

Never loved you

Shinsou Hitoshi x Reader (College AU)

Warning/s: Characters are 20+; slight IzuOcha ship; Fluff; Angst; implied Depression; may or may not been based on experience

And yes, the title is a Song by Evie Clair. You’re quirk is smth to do w/ Empath and it’s not hero material by norms.

You never expect to encounter him. Out of all the people you could’ve met, you didn’t believe you that you could met him online out of all the places.

It started when you became friends with a group of talented singers and musicians as you also joined into the fun – abeit not as talented as them, you tried your best and put your all into it. Not long after that, you began knowing the group which consists of all the previous students of Class 1-A and some other students of UA and soon, Mina invited you to join their group as an “honorary member” as you lived in another country which you gladly accepted.

Sometimes, you would join the voice call and be overwhelmed by the amount of voices blasting in your earphone. Sometimes, you would listen silently as everyone talked over each other while Bakugou screamed and make small explosions that literally makes everyone deaf. Rip earphone users. You loved and treasured these moments with them, although you didn’t know what they looked like.

It wasn’t until he joined that made you the happiest. You were currently teasing Midoriya and Uraraka, saying they were cute crushing on each other, much to Uraraka’s denial and Midoriya’s stuttering. Chuckling, you continue with your impromptu storytelling of their love blossoming until both of them are beyond speechless. You decided to stop when Bakugou joined the conversation.

“Yo, Mina invited other damn extra!” he informed in his usual loud voice.

“Kaachan, you shouldn’t talk to Shinsou like that! He’s listening you know!” Midoriya scolded softly.

You checked and someone was listening in, they had a cat picture as a profile pic and you couldn’t helped but smack yourself in embarrassment as you didn’t noticed earlier while Bakugou and Midoriya beefed it out in the voice chat. You muted them, not wanting to hear they’re yelling of being the no. 1 hero.

“I agree with you btw.” chatted the one with cat pic. “It’s so obvious, it makes me roll my eyes that they remain oblivious to each other’s feelings.”

“IKR!” You typed back, forgetting your embarrassment.

“You’re not from UA, are you?”

“No. Actually, I’m just an honorary member as Mina says since I live miles away haha.”

“I see. I’m Shinsou, Shinsou Hitoshi btw.”

“(l/n) (f/n)! Nice to meet’cha!”

You didn’t know how it happened but you felt an instant connection to him and you two hitted it off from then. You two would always chat in your private message and it quickly became unnoticed by the others, they even started to ship is and make an official name for the ship. You played oblivious as did he, although both of you already know about it.

After two weeks, he called you bb and you couldn’t helped but blush before awkwardly telling him: you really really liked him. At first, he didn’t say anything so you were half-expecting him to reject you and that’ll be it. But surprised, he told you: he liked you back. However you both decided that it’s too early for a relationship so you two now have a peace of mind that at least the other feels the same way.

It was fun, interacting with him, sending him uwus and heart memes, etc. You learned that he’s working as a pro hero while you studied in university. You learned he’s a gamer who sings, plays the guitar and ukulele ngl i can honesty see this as canon. And he plays basketball and soccer just pretend sksksksksk.

You two would schedule voice calls as you both were busy, it would always play out as – you would come home late and wait for him to get out of work as you two chatted away before actually getting in the call once he’s home. You would usually ask about he’s day and about his job and he’d reply with his usual deep tired voice that you’ve grown to love curses my deep voice kink.

This went for two months. Until one night while you were staying up late studying, he chatted your name. This was the first time he called you by your real name, usually he would call you by your username or “bb” as usual so this sudden change set butterflies in your stomach.

“Yes, Toshi?” you replied before teasingly sent, “This is the 1st time you called me by my name haha.”

“I wanted to tell you something important so I thought it’d catch your attention.”

“Well, what is it?”

“I love you.”

Without thinking you typed, “I love you too.” and sent it before realizing what he meant. “Do you meant that as a friend?” You immediately sent.

“Do you want me to say that?”

You blushed hard, you can imagine him chuckling at your stupid question. “Uhhh no??? Idk??? You’re not joking, right??”

“I wouldn’t have said it, if I didn’t mean it.”

“Really?” You couldn’t believe it so you just had to ask.

“Yes.”

“Tell it to me again plz 🥺👉👈.”

“I love you, (y/n).”

“I love you too, Toshi.”

“In advance, I’m so sorry for being a weirdo.”

“But you’re my weirdo.”

Cue squealing. But after that, it went spiraling down. A month and a week went by without communication from him; no updates, no greetings, no nothing. You decided to confront him about your concerns. You understand that he’s busy at work and you were always supportive and understanding at his job were his top priority.

But couldn’t he at least spare you a few minutes of his free time, maybe when he woke up or during his breaks. You didn’t ask for more so you were slightly disappointed with him as it worried you that he worked 6am-2am everday without holiday breaks besides Nov.1-2.

You voiced those concerns to him, he apologized and you forgave him. But this behavior of his continued on and this made you sad, other would say you’re depressed but you were too occupied with thoughts of him; his voice; the feeling he gave you, etc.

For another month and three days, you confront him again but this time he left your pm and blocked you. You panicked as negative thoughts flooding your mind.

Did you do anything wrong? You weren’t too clingy, right? Your chat wasn’t too honest, right?

You somehow managed to calm your mind after a couple of minutes and through logical evaluation and elimination, you concluded that you didn’t do anything wrong. But the questions remain: Why did he leave? Why did he blocked you?

For the longest time, you couldn’t answer that. You spend your time drifting off from reality and to your memories with Toshi while day-by-by you lessen your interactions with your online friends, seemingly just vanishing from thin air.

You felt empty, a void of loneliness filled you as you went your way through your own life, not knowing what to do with yourself or even feel. Why did it come to this? Everything went fine, you two were happy so why? Why did he suddenly leave you all alone like that?

———————————————————————

Today was the reunion of UA batch [number]. Shinsou stood in the far corner of the Gym Gamma, his back leaning against the wall as he observed everyone and everything. He noticed an unfamiliar yet familiar (h/c) locks, he watch as you talked with Sero, Tokoyami, Shouji, and Ojirou. You were especially close to Ojirou, you practically by his side with your arm linked with his.

He didn’t know why he was growing irritated and angry at sight of you being in someone else’s arms when he damn well know that you deserve to move on after what he’d done to you after all those three years but still… He had hoped that you actually waited for him.

You were suddenly called by Kirishima as you leaned towards Ojirou and whispered a soft ‘see you’ before walking towards to him.

“(Y/n)-chan! I want you to meet someone!” He said as he dragged you towards where a lone lavender haired man stood before running away. You opened your mouth to objects but it was already too late, he was gone. You looked at the stranger and felt that same connection when you met him, you knew. Although not having to see his face, you just knew that it was him: Shinsou.

“(L/n) (f/n)! Nice to meet’cha!” You cheered brightly, just like when you first introduced yourself to him.

“I know.” he replied. “I’m Shinsou Hitoshi.” God, why I am so lame. He thought.

“Oh! Nice to finally and officially meet you, Shinsou-san!” You smiled as you raised your glass towards him.

Why did you have to call him like a stranger? And not the usual ‘Toshi’ you would always call him?

He clicked his glass with yours and took a sip as his eyes spotted a shiny accessory on your ring finger, making his heart froze. That’s why. You were engaged. Of course, why wouldn’t you be? You were ever so patient, understanding and supportive. It didn’t even surprise him.

When you finished you glass, you excused yourself as Jirou announces the last song for tonight that is written by the guess before she yelled out your name and you climbed up the stage.

“Love do you know?

We've been growing apart

And you should know

That for me that's hard

Darling I'm scared if I let you go, oh

This will be goodbye for good

It's easier this way

I'll spare my heart some pain

Even though I know it isn't true

It's easier this way

I'll spare my heart some pain

Even though I know it isn't true

‘I never loved you’

And I won't say

That I knew it from the start

So you can say

That we weren't torn apart

'Cause for me, oh it's easier to bleed, oh

When I know you can sleep so I keep telling myself

It's easier this way

I'll spare my heart some pain

Even though I know it isn't true

It's easier this way

I'll spare my heart some pain

Even though I know it isn't true

I feel numb when the drums slow down

Oh, leave me dumb so I can't tell myself

Myself, oh

It's easier this way

I'll spare my heart some pain

I already know that it just isn't true

It's easier this way

I'll spare my heart some pain

Even though I know it isn't true

‘I never loved you’.”

Part 2, maybe???

[imaginationintowords]

Falling

Harry Styles x Famous!Reader angst

[Plot: inspired/loosely based on Harry’s song Falling. Harry and his famous ex sit down to talk, for the first time since their breakup years prior.]

[hope you guys like this. Started drafting this last month after I first heard Falling. Let me know what you think!]

To support my ko-fi

When Y/n was approached to do this interview she had agreed to do so, with an open mind. She was finally in a place where she could talk about what had happened without breaking down or feeling any kind of negative reaction. She had finally healed, properly in private over the past few years. She had finally moved on, found someone who treats her as their equal. But something stilled seemed off, it wasn't until her therapist brought up the idea of finally getting closure. Closure. She would finally be able to ask the questions she had let go, the insecurities that sometimes still loomed over her current relationship. So she agreed to do this artist on artist interview when approached by Variety.

Yes it was a way to promote the new movie that she is not only staring in, but co-wrote with one of her best friends. A movie inspired by heartbreak. She didn't do it for the promo though, the movie was already generating Oscar buzz. She is doing it for herself, to finally close this chapter once and for all. Once it was closed for good, everyone would stop hounding her about what had happened, and if there was any hope for reconciliation, even though she herself has been in a committed two year relationship. She needed to do this to show the world that she is more than just this person's ex.

She was more surprised to hear that he had agreed to do it. There was no one more private than Harry Styles.

This would be the first time they have seen and talked to each other since their breakup in December of 2015. The producers had asked if she wanted to meet him before they started shooting, she declined. If she was going to do this she was going to do this all the way.

The producers decided on having Harry waiting on set in front of the cameras, then Y/n would walk in and greet him. They wanted to keep it as natural as they possibly can in a room filled with cameras and people. The setup was perfect for an intimate one on one. No one off camera was going to be allowed to give any input. It was all on Harry and Y/n to keep the conversation going. Last minute they decided to only have a limited of people in the room, to respect the two artists who were about to bare it all out. So in the end it would be two camera guys, the director, one producer, Harry and Y/n's manager, Harry's mum Anne, who had decided to come last minute, and the two main acts.

"You ready?" Cat, Y/n's manager, asked her as the sound guy finished putting her mic on.

"Yeah. I am." Y/n nodded, looking at herself one final time, before they began the short walk to set.

When Y/n walked in she was greeted by the director and producer, politely shaking their hands. She immediately felt his eyes on her from where he sat in front of the cameras, patiently waiting for her. For once in her life she actually wasn't nervous, she had been nervous the last couple of weeks leading up to this, but right now as she listens to the director explaining what's going to happen, she feels a sense of relief, to finally get the closure she deserves.

Harry on the other hand was a bundle of nerves, he hasn't been able to sleep properly since he agreed to do this. He had only agreed because he wasn't expecting Y/n to agree to do it. She had kept his name out of her mouth in the media since the day they broke up. He had a feeling she and her team also had him blacklisted, any media outlet forbidden to ask Y/n questions about him and their failed relationship.

When he had heard she agreed to do it, he could have sworn his heart stopped for a second. He was actually going to have to do this. That scared the shit out of him. He would have to be vulnerable in front of not just the world, but the girl that he had broken. The girl that still to this day occupied his mind from time to time. The girl that he couldn’t help but compare all the other girls after to. The girl that he still wrote songs about to this day. The girl that just by being in the same room as her had him falling in love all over again. 

The second he saw her enter the room, his heart stopped, his breath got caught in his throat. Everything just stood still. She had always had that affect on him. Making him fall just by the sight of her. He was finally able to see her beauty again in person, photos online didn't do her any justice. She was what the media called, "the girl next door" beautiful, everyone adored her, everyone wanted a chance to be with her, and yet she was oblivious to it all. Never truly believing she was as beautiful as everyone made it seem, and in some way that was probably his fault, for not making her believe she was truly that beautiful.

It took everything in his power not to go over to her and embrace her. He had to will himself to stay in his seat, until she approached him.

She finally made her way over to him, well more to her seat across from him.

Harry had started to get up, until he realized he wouldn't be getting the same greeting that everyone else got, so he sat back down, slightly embarrassed.

"Hi." She softly greeted him, as she sat in her seat.

"Hi." Now that she was in front of him, he had no idea what to say or how to begin all of this.

"Nervous?" She asked him.

She always did know him so well.

"Very. You?" He lightly laughed, making eye contact with her for the first time in years. Just like that he can’t help himself but to fall for her 

"A little. More curious than anything." She honestly answered, willing herself to forget about the cameras around.

"Really? Why so?" Harry asked, taken back by her answer.

"There's a lot of unanswered questions between us and I think we owe it to each other to find those out. So I'm curious to see what your take was on everything."

"Right." He started to get more nervous.

This was going to be a very emotional hour, for the both of them.

There was a beat of silence, then Y/n took a deep breath and began.

"How about we start easy then. How have you been? And don't give me that politically correct Harry Styles bullshit. Truthfully how have you been?" She asks, which causes Harry to let out a snort laugh.

"I've actually been good. Finishing up this new album. Working my ass on it. But I'm very proud of it. Really let my guard down this time."

"Difficult isn't it? Having to let your guard down, afraid of what everyone is going to make of it. But I guess that's why we do it, huh." She states.

"Exactly. I mean an album is nothing compared to writing a whole feature film. Talk about being vulnerable. I can't imagine doing that." Harry praises her. He remembers when she had told him years ago, during the first year of their relationship, that she and her best friend were writing a movie together.

"Yeah. That wasn't easy. We went through many, many drafts. Originally we wanted to write a romantic comedy. It wasn't until-" She stops herself, forgetting for a second who she was talking to.

"Until?" he presses her to continue, having a feeling of what her answer was going to be.

"It wasn't until we broke up that we decided a romantic comedy wasn't what we needed to write. I couldn't write one, not after that." She honestly answered.

"Why is that?"

"Because after our break up, the only thing I could write about was heartbreak. And not that cheesy sugarcoated shit, the real honest truth heartbreak. It just started to flow out of me, as soon as I started to type, that's what came out. So that's when we decided to change the idea of the movie. If we were going to put out a movie about breakups, it was going to be about great big breakups. Not just the bad ones. Not just the good ones, if those even exist. The ones that change a person. The ones that shake you to your core. The ones that don't seem possible to recover from. The ones that have you questioning, how can you ever fall out of love with someone you had planned to spend the rest of your life with. Those kinds of breakups. The everlasting ones." Y/n felt her eyes began to tear up as she described her inspiration. She took a breath to calm her nerves.

"Wow." Harry responded, feeling himself get choked up.

"I'm sorry." he apologized.

"For what?" Y/n asked, taken back by his apology. His long overdue apology.

"For the way our relationship ended. I'm sorry." He tearfully apologized.

"Our relationship was long over before we ended it. We should've ended our relationship before it got bad, but I think we were both holding onto something we both thought we could salvage. But we were just too far gone. We were just too young. I loved you, I was scared."

"Selfishly I didn't want to let you go, because I couldn't bare the thought of you loving someone else. Selfishly, I still can't bare the thought of you loving someone else." He truthfully tells her.

"That's unfair of you."

"Do you hate me?" Harry asked, the one question he's been dying to ask. If he didn't ask it now, he wouldn't have the guts to ask it later on. Better to just rip the band-aid off.

"Hate is such a powerful word. Small, but powerful. But I did. Not anymore. But yeah, I hated you. I think you know, slash, knew that. I wanted nothing to do with you. The way we ended, it shattered me. Then to see the pictures of you with another girl less than a month later. I wanted nothing but to hate you."

The answer knocked the wind out of him a little, he always assumed she hated him, but the confirmation just broke him.

"In the past almost four years, I've learned a lot about myself. Who I am without you. Who I was with you. Looking back on it, I didn't like who I was with you. I loved you so much, that I would do whatever you asked of me. Looking back, I don't even know who that girl was. I can't even fathom that i was like that. I was more mad that I had let myself become like that. I had always prided myself in being an independent woman, especially back then. But that definitely wasn't the case. I had lost myself to you.

Looking back on it now, it wasn't real. Who we were in public versus who we were behind closed doors.  We would be all happy out in the world but the second we got home, and those doors closed behind us, we just shut each other out. You shut me out. You were seeking comfort from other. When I should have been the one you ran to. You had written songs about being able to run to me for anything, but that wasn't the truth. It became pretty clear that we weren't happy anymore. That you weren't happy anymore in the relationship."

"I was." Harry retorted, feeling upset that that's how she felt.

"No you weren't. If you were, you wouldn't have done what you did. You wouldn't have said what you said. I wouldn't have left in such a haste that final night. You weren't happy. Neither was I. And it's okay to admit that." She calmly said.

Her calm demeanor was starting to make him a bit uncomfortable. He definitely wasn't expecting her to be so calm about this all. Especially since the last time they talked was a screaming match. But then looking back on it now, it was just a one person screaming match, and that ball laid on his court.

"You don't talk about me." He states, trying to regain his composure.

"No, I don't. I couldn't because it was too hard. Especially at the beginning. So I just had any talk of you blacklisted. It was better that way. It isn't the world's business to know what happened. At least not then." she softly laughs signaling to the cameras.

"It's what I needed to heal. Now if someone mentions you, I don't feel the same as I once did. It doesn't break me. Truthfully, until someone mentions you, I kind of forget."

"Sorry." she apologizes, when she sees his reaction to her answer.

"Have you listened to any of my solo stuff?"

"No. I couldn't. And as time went by I didn't feel the need to. I think it's better that way."

"Didn't you ever get curious?"

"No. My friends told me about it. Even said you slipped my name in one of the songs. Which I think, at the time, just added more fuel to the fire."

"Really?"

"Not everyone is going to find that endearing, Harry. Especially not with the way we ended. I didn't want to hear you playing the victim." She explains to him, a little offended by his reaction.

"I wasn't." He defended himself.

"Right. We were both at fault, but last time I checked you were the one moving on after a few short weeks. At that moment, when I heard you name dropping me, and then to see the comments online, it made me so mad. And it was a set back to my own healing. Here you are telling the world how heartbroken you are, but then you are just out in the open with a new girl, no worries on how that would make me feel." she emotionally tells him, with tears in her eyes.

"Which took me some time to realize that you didn't owe me anything. We were no longer together. You were free to do whatever you pleased, with whoever you pleased. I had to accept that I had no right in the decisions that you made post-us." she calms down.

"We were never meant to last forever. I see that now." she expresses what she had learned years ago, the revelation that finally allowed her to move on.

“You’re going to need to stop doing that.” she tells him, he could feel the pity.

“Stop what?”

“Writing songs about me. You need to let me go.” she informs him.

"Do you ever regret our relationship?" he bluntly inquires.

"No. It taught me some valuable things about myself, and about relationships. Do you?" she asks back.

"Never." He says.

There was a moment of silence. No one sure if the conversation is over, as it had already been an hour since they began. The director was about to call cut, when Harry spoke up.

"I'm scared that you'll never need me again." he truthfully says, tears brimming his eyes.

"That shouldn't scare you. You should want nothing but the best for me, like I wish nothing but the best for you." she explains, her eyes matching the same emotion as him, feeling the end of the conversation close by.

"Are you happy?"

"Truthfully? Yes."

"Do you see us ever getting back together?" his bottom lip trembles a bit.

"No." She truthfully answers, a few tears escaping.

"Does he make you happy?"

"Yes." she smiles, at the mention of her current partner.

"Is he the one?" he asks as the tears fall down his cheeks, afraid of the answer that's about to come out of her mouth.

"Yes. He's the one." she bites down on her bottom lip to keep herself from crying out.

"I still love you." he confesses, crying.

"I know." she bittersweetly discloses.

She gives him one final smile, before she gets up and gives his hand a comforting pat, as she makes her final exit out of his life for good.

[Permanent tagged: Permanent tagged: @definitelynotafangirl @1awesomeash @princess-evans-addict @geeksareunique @sebbbystaaan if you’d like to be removed just ask and I’d be happy to do so]

[let-me-write-shit]

Like We Used To: 15

A/N: I posted chapter fourteen at 2 AM, so make sure you read that one first! 

Please let me know if there’s anything you’d like to see in the next (or any) upcoming chapters! I might be able to try and find a way to include it. :) Enjoy!

[CLICK HERE FOR PREVIOUS CHAPTERS]

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CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The sun wasn’t even up yet by the time Harry and Elizabeth had woken up. Mitch and Sarah wound up staying until a bit past midnight, so the two of them only got maybe five hours of sleep that night before having to get ready and meet everyone else at the news station. Harry reassured her that she would blend right in because of the amount of people that came with him, which did settle her a bit, but as soon as they got to the venue Harry’s publicist had pulled him to the side. 

Apparently the man they saw taking pictures of Harry’s car after dinner last night had also managed to grab a picture of when Harry grabbed her hand, leading her to the car. It started spreading around news outlets overnight and his fans started to notice that she was the same girl in the background of the pictures of Harry going to the club on Sunday. Now there was speculation of a ‘new girlfriend’. Although this first arrangement was just a performance on the news to promote a show next month, they would be heading directly to a broadcasted radio station afterwards for an interview. He was warned that they might ask about it. She suddenly felt a bit foolish for wearing a white lace bra poking through her semi sheer white half buttoned shirt tucking into her ripped high-waisted mom jeans.

“I’m so sorry,” Elizabeth whispered when he came back, “We shouldn’t have gone out to dinner last night.”

“It’s fine, I just don’t want this to scare you off. I can handle it.”

Harry joined the rest of his bandmates to rehearse while Elizabeth joined Lisa and Jeffrey off to the side. They had comforted her in reminding her that it wasn’t the first time he was pictured with a girl that caused dating rumors, but then the thought of him having been with international models sunk in and she started to feel silly that she was even remotely involved with Harry in the first place. 

She watched at the side of the stage, out of view from his fans, as Harry and his backing band performed ‘Cherry’. She hadn’t seen him perform since they were kids. Of course she saw some of his performances online in passing, but she tried her best to avoid it as much as she could. Elizabeth found herself feeling extremely proud of how far he’s come and in awe of how great they all sounded together. 

As soon as he finished singing and the cheers from the fans had died down, a news anchor made her way over towards him to congratulate him on the success of his album. She reiterated his Halloween performance next month before wishing him good luck and cutting the camera. He had managed to give final thanks and goodbyes and within an hour they were ready to go. 

Since there were no performances at the next interview, his bandmates were able to head off and enjoy the rest of the day off until tomorrow. Elizabeth had traded phone numbers with Mitch and Sarah in case she wanted to meet up with them later and joined Harry, Jeffrey, Kenneth, and Lisa to the radio station. Harry had gone through the office introducing himself and his manager before vaguely introducing the rest of them. They didn’t really pay her, Lisa, or Kenneth any mind, which actually made her feel a bit better. Maybe they didn’t really know who she was.

Even though the interview was for a radio station, it was still being video broadcasted live to their website, so Harry was prepped in the studio while the rest of them sat off to the side out of frame of the camera’s. Elizabeth sunk in the back between Kenneth and Lisa so she wouldn’t get noticed and looked between Harry in the studio, and a television above them that displayed what their website video would look like.

Harry was given some headphones to wear and when commercial break was over they introduced Harry. The first few minutes went pretty smoothly. There was a good amount of banter in between questions like if he had been working on any new album or songs, which he admitted that he was in the works on making new songs. Most of the questions were pertaining to his current album and the concert coming up before it started getting a bit personal.

“Now it’s been discussed that this album is, essentially, a break up album, correct?” The broadcaster said, “I mean, I know that there are a few songs that are influenced by the start of a relationship and the fun that comes along with that, but for instance, Cherry. You include a voicemail from your ex at the end. How was that song to write? Was it a bit emotional to get it out, or was it just a relief to get it off your chest?”

Elizabeth’s stomach twisted a bit hearing Harry talk about past relationships, especially songs written about them. Obviously it was his job, but it almost felt like she was intruding on a part of his life that she wasn’t supposed to know about for some reason. She supposed this was better than actually having to interact with one of his exes like he had to do last weekend. 

The interview continued to get more personal and her heart started racing, knowing where this was about to go as the radio host said, “So we have to ask, are you currently seeing anyone?”

Harry did his lopsided grin and Elizabeth could tell that he was starting to get a bit embarrassed as he said, “Euhh...I’m just having fun at the moment, really.”

“So no girlfriends?”

“No girlfriends, no,” Harry shook his head.

“Because I have to bring it up, the listeners will kill me if I don’t,” he laughed, “I can already see the hundreds of angry emails coming in. You were spotted last night holding hands with a beautiful woman, leaving a Chinese restaurant in LA...” the picture of the two of them last night popped up.

Harry nodded, only vaguely saying, “Yeah, that is me. Yep.” and laughing a bit

The host chuckled and said, “Right, now your fans also noticed the resemblance between this woman, and the woman you were seen at a club outside of London last week,” the picture of him walking into a club with her and their friends in the background had popped up. Elizabeth was circled. 

“I am always impressed with the amount of investigative work by some of the fans,” Harry responded.

“I know, it’s crazy! I mean there was also talk of, you know, some kind of scuffle you might have been involved in at the club. Is there any truth to that? Or what’s going on?”

Harry shook his head, glancing at her and Jeffrey before turning back to the host, “No, do you know what it is? So the woman in the picture is just an old friend of mine from school. I was back home and attended some friends wedding, who happens to also have gone to the club with us, and yaknow, everyone got a few too many drinks in them at the club and things got a bit rowdy, but no, I didn’t fight anyone.”

“So this woman is just an old school friend of yours? Not your girlfriend?”

“Right. I’ve known her since I was fourteen. I knew most of these people since I was fourteen,” he pointed to the picture, “It was nice to get back home and spend some time with old friends, to really get back to my old life for a while. It was great fun. That weekend actually inspired a few songs for the next album that we’re working on, which is really cool, so I’m excited for that.”

Elizabeth’s eyes widened in shock. Harry never told her that he was writing songs about that weekend, which was odd because they’ve been pretty much inseparable since. How could he have hidden that from her? She started to wonder if maybe that was what he was doing while she was working, whenever she interrupted him in the middle of playing his guitar. And maybe that’s what him and Mitch went to work on last night. She suddenly started to get nervous that he might have mentioned their sexual intimacy in those songs, unsure how to feel about it.

This round of questions gave Elizabeth mixed feelings. She was impressed with how Harry was able to get around the questions and so easily shoot down the idea of the two of them being any more than friends, but she also felt a bit saddened about how plausible it all sounded. She could easily be just Harry’s old friend, and the thought of that was slightly upsetting. 

“So, since you are single,” the host carried on, “Are you looking to be in a relationship? Or are you just enjoying being single at the moment?”

“I’m not necessarily looking for a relationship at the moment, but if something happens, then it happens, you know what I mean?” He laughed.

“So what would you say your ideal relationship looks like?”

“I would say my ideal relationship looks like…..” he thought for a minute, looking around the room and catching eyes with Elizabeth before saying, “it’s sharing a sleeve of oreos together so I don’t have to eat the entire sleeve on my own.”

Elizabeth’s heart danced in her chest as the host laughed. A smile started to form on her face, suddenly feeling more at ease with where her and Harry’s ‘relationship’ stood. She might not have technically been his ‘girlfriend’ yet, but she was feeling more confident in the idea.

When they wrapped up the interview Harry had joined the three of them along with two of the people from the studio, thanking him for his time and congratulating him. The main interviewer turned towards Elizabeth and smiled.

“I hope I didn’t embarrass you with some of those questions,” he said, kindly, offering a handshake, “What’s your name?”

Elizabeth stuttered, realizing that he had recognized her from the pictures, and shaking his hand “Oh, no. It’s okay, I understand. I’m Elizabeth.”

He nodded, and smiled inquisitively “So you two really aren’t dating?”

She felt her cheeks blush and looked over at Harry who was in conversation with someone else, “No, sir. Just old friends.”

He nodded, looking at her for a minute before saying, “Alright. Well, it was nice to meet you, Elizabeth.”

As soon as they were back in the SUV together and headed to the next interview, Harry turned to Elizabeth with a slight smirk.

“You okay so far?” He asked.

Elizabeth laughed, “I was not expecting it to be like that. First of all, you’ve been writing songs about all of us?”

Harry grinned, “I’ve been dabbling around with some ideas.”

“You never told me! Can I hear them?”

He hesitated, “.....not yet. I’m not done with them. Maybe once we’re all able to go in the studio and start working on it more. We’ll see.”

“None of them are about me, though, right?” she asked. Harry was silent, looking at her like a deer in headlights. Elizabeth gasped, lightly slapping his arm with a giggle, “Harry!”

He put his hands up defensively, laughing, “I can’t help it! I’m an artist! It’s what we do! It’s just song ideas, anyway. Nothing is written yet.”

Elizabeth shook her head with a grin, “Anyway. I’ve just texted Sarah. I think I’m going to take an uber from the next location to meet up with them. I don’t know if I can sit through another interview of them asking you about ‘the mystery girl in the photo’. It’s too embarrassing.”

Harry nodded understandingly. When they had reached the next destination, Jeffrey, Lisa, and Kenneth had stepped out. Harry was supposed to be the next one out, but he quickly turned to give her a kiss and whispered, “I’ve been wanting to do that all morning without anyone seeing.”

She smiled sweetly at him before pushing him out of the car so as not to look too suspicious. She had said her goodbyes to them in the lobby of the building, waiting for an uber to come and pick her up. So many emotions were running through her, but for some reason she didn’t care as much about the repercussions of being photographed with Harry anymore. But was that a good thing?

KEEP READING

[ddaenghoney]

chapter sixteen

masterlist link in blog description.

As a successful songwriter, you want nothing more than the acknowledgment that the chart-topping musical pieces are your own creations. But contracts, relationships, and the difficulty of facing the stakes involved head on, keep your mouth shut until pressure builds too much.

Pairing(s): Park Jimin x Y/N, Min Yoongi x Y/N

disclaimer: any characters depicted do not represent the actual personality of the respected idol in real life.

Series warning(s)/genre(s): Chapter-based written fic, Slow-burn relationship(s), Fake-dating, Unrequited love, Songwriter/producer!oc, idol!Jimin, idol/songwriter/producer!Yoongi, friends with benefits, drama, romance, smut, angst, fluff (updated as needed)

Chapter warning(s): mentions of anxiety/nervousness. Yoongi going through quite a bit ) :

Word count: 5826

if you enjoy please, please let me know!

“Wow, it didn’t take you long to get here.” Yoongi says as he steps back to open the door wider. You nod your head, entering inside,

“I was already in the car with Jin, and there’s not really much traffic right now.” You rub your hands together, paying particular attention to let your thumbs meddle with the individual fingers. The front door shuts with a click and an electronic beep to indicate it’s properly secure. Your eyes remain fixed towards the floor, mulling over the different things he could want to tell you.

“Were you going somewhere with him after seeing him and Namjoon at the cafe?” Yoongi’s voice is normal, a casual inquisitiveness like he hadn’t mentioned a conversation that needs to happen not even half an hour earlier. His hand finds your back with a tiny nudge to lead you towards the couch just like the day before and any other time you’ve ended up at his place for one reason or another. Despite the multitude of armchairs framing the living space, it’s been natural to sit beside one another as you do now.

“Yeah,” You say then recall that uncomfortable situation to cause you and Seokjin to leave Namjoon’s cafe. Part of you still wants to settle in the idea that the three of you were making incorrect assumptions. The first group, and then the second set of patrons were simply going in to drink coffee or have pastries. Ultimately it’s speculation, and you could just be overthinking the popularity of your name after a night of music exposure. “He was just giving me a ride.”

Yoongi watches the words appear to flutter uncertainly from your lips, like they attempt to cover a larger picture. He frowns slightly, then catches sight of balling hands on your lap. Without consideration for anything besides a clearer understanding of whatever is troubling you, Yoongi moves a few inches closer so that he can reach an intersect your focused sightline. He doesn’t surprise from your shoulders shrugging in surprise, instead smiling gently as your restless grip changes to take a delicate hold on his hand.

Your stare finally finds his own, and Yoongi thinks about the comments from the internet. You told him you wanted to wait until the evening to check any yourself, but maybe you had like he had. “What’s wrong?”

Your brows furrow, lips pouting in disbelief of his question, “You said you needed to talk to me so I’m nervous about it.” Without hesitation or tact you speak up, then clamp your lips shut. Squeezing his hand within the confines of your own, you sigh in embarrassment, unaware of Yoongi’s eyes widening in realization. “That sounded kind of harsh how I said it. But I just,” You shrug and pull your legs up onto the couch to better face him, “It’s not even three in the afternoon and you’re back home, Yoon.”

“Oh, yeah,” He blurts out, then nods slowly. You nearly snort in amusement with how he seems to have forgotten the tone of his voice in the phone call, but smother it as he uses his free hand to rub the arch of his shoulder and neck. “Yeah, I know it’s weird.” He narrows his eyes towards the sight of your connecting hands, though entirely unfocused on it. “I do have something to say, I just didn’t figure out how to say it before you got here.”

“Did Yerin end up getting really upset with you?” Yoongi bites his lip at the question, causing you to worry about the severity of the decision to release. If he is going to have a difficult time at SoundWave now, you would like to take back clicking the button, even if he said he was aware of the risks. Yoongi shouldn’t be the person facing the brunt of whatever repercussions there are.

“SoundWave is dropping me from the company.”

Your lips part, taking the sentence into your head. Yoongi doesn’t speak further, eyes simply staring towards your hands holding his, where he grips onto you the reason for this is all.

Language escapes your mind, unable to think of a response to his words. If you were called straight away for the company to tell you they’re cutting the contract short and firing you, if you were called in so they can slam paperwork for some sort of contrived lawsuit, if they took action against you for what happened, you can understand that. You expected the force of Yerin’s voice nailing your nerves while she tells you every reason why you made the wrong choice.

But Yerin firing Yoongi wasn’t a consideration.

She could’ve got rid of you months ago when the initial photographs of you and Yoongi leaked and she acknowledged the hidden affair between you and Jimin, but all along she never did. Despite the constant prodding into the company like you meant to make it burst, you were reprimanded through words wherever you expected a tearing of your contract in half.

“Why,” Yoongi looks up at your cracking mumble, finding your eyes contorted in confusion and complete regret. He goes to speak, feeling your hands tremble around his as you shake your head, “She can’t do that-” You cut your own voice off as you consider the fact that she has every right to, and you watch Yoongi bite his lip frowning. “I’m sorry.” His eyes narrow, following your figure as you stand from the couch, “This is my fault- I’ll go talk to her, I’m sorry-”

“It’s not your fault.” Yoongi reaches for your wrist while he pursues your distraught path, “Y/N, I told you that I thought about it before-”

“Did you think she’d fire you!” You turn as you ask, frowning. Yoongi’s lips shut, tightening, and you believe the tremble in his soft grip on your wrist exists, but it’s largely masked by your own surging emotions rumbling in your veins. “Yoongi, you can’t lose your job, you don’t deserve that. You’ve worked for everything.”

“You have too.” Yoongi’s voice rings with conviction, willing you to stay silent as he fumbles through other sentences swarming in his thoughts. Shaking his head, Yoongi sighs, taking a moment to admit, “I didn’t think she’d do that.”

With how much his title contributes to the company, why would either of you ever thought they would fire him for this. Even in your head, the punishment for helping you release music was comparably minor to this reality. You anticipated articles ripping you to shreds for him letting you feature in his works by only being his girlfriend. You thought Yerin would force him to remove the tracks and take away his allowance of independently posting music.

“I’ll go talk to her.”

“She’s not going to change her mind, angel.” Yoongi watches your hands clench, knowing you feel entirely helpless and unsure of how to go about assisting him. He doesn’t think it’s worth it for you to be so upset-- that this is simply a plausible repercussion, and one that isn’t your fault. Involving yourself between him and Yerin wouldn’t do anything, perhaps even serving to cause public scrutiny for you if SoundWave takes louder measures.

A year earlier, Yoongi wondered what stopped him from helping Hoseok during the scandal. His own fear felt like tape over his mouth, discouraging any means to speak favorably to the press about Hoseok whose reputation was crushed in a matter of weeks from lies and misconceptions fed into the public. All the while Yoongi let it go on, offering only an ear to spill worries and stresses, but no voice to give aid.

“Yoon, I’m so sorry.” Hearing your frail voice, Yoongi remembers offering help. In a small voice, maybe one he hoped Hoseok wouldn’t hear, but did. Only to be met with him telling Yoongi not to. “I shouldn’t have let this happen.”

“They shouldn’t have done any of this to us.” Yoongi says immediately, recalling Yerin’s short speech earlier to him that day. He knew that it wouldn’t be good news, he already prepared for that from the moment the secretary called him on his commute to say that Yerin needed to speak to him immediately.

“You made the choice for this.” She said after Yoongi questioned why. In his stupor, he thought he heard her wrong, never thinking that she would fire him from the first sentence. “I don’t need the liability of you acting on your own like this. Your platform is too big for you to make ridiculous, impulsive decisions. And considering the online reception of those songs, it’s only natural that something had to be done. None of them went over well where fans are concerned. The amount of backlash you’re going to receive is reason enough, but I know that you won’t stop here. I can’t have someone like you in this company.”

“I never wanted any of this, Y/N.”

Ice infects his words, though spoken quietly. Weakly does his hand remain on your wrist, resembling something closer to resigning conviction, and it brings your heart to an even pace. Despite your previous racing thoughts screaming at you to go to SoundWave and fight for him to get his job back, in the sentence Yoongi brings everything to a painful lull.

Little time is needed to understand that his words aren’t directed at an anger towards being fired, but something deeper that you know is familiar. From small glances before. You can recall the tour Yerin gave him around the company building so many months ago and the stoic expression that seemed to be following motions, the time you asked him if he enjoys SoundWave just to be met with mostly silence until he could verbalize a doubtful yes. In front of cameras Yoongi’s eyes were always avoiding looking directly, dodging away like what he couldn’t show himself properly.

You shrug his hand off of you as you take a step towards him, adjusting your arm so that your palm cups his cheek. Angling his face towards your gently, Yoongi’s eyes look collected with moisture, but absent of release. Jaw tightened, then more so as he frowns down at your concern twinkling irises. “Yoon.”

The softness of your voice sends his ribcage into a shudder, unable to allow himself words for risk they’ll end up exhaling words he’s never felt like he should say. Your thumb strokes gently, so soothingly warm against his stinging skin. He lets his hands find purchase on your waist as you perk onto your toes to leave a tiny kiss on beside his lips, like a feathering promise. Silently waiting however long you’ll need to.

“I’ve never been me in front of everyone, angel,” His voice takes time on his words, like his subconscious grips onto them tightly until they’re ripped away by the invitation of your comfort. “My other company and SoundWave,” He sighs, squeezing your waist as he finds himself weakening. Yoongi has so much, he shouldn’t be upset about such a simple thing like reputation.

“Yoongi,” His eyes flicker back towards yours, seeing them present, focused. “You can tell me.”

Compared to you whose every means to be acknowledged has been constantly subdued since your entry into the music industry, Yoongi thinks it’s almost ridiculous for him to complain to you. Despite his own allowance of you telling him your troubles, he doesn’t feel like he should be allowed to talk to you about things that would’ve been changeable if he simply acted on his own accord like what people expect of him. But it’s fabrication to be unsociable and distant for the persona that grew from the debut album into an unleavable image.

Hoseok did what he wanted for himself, always maintaining his truly positive attitude and letting every fan see him as he is. Even in the midst of handling the scandal of his relationship with Seulgi, and allowing her to fabricate a clean escape that left Hoseok dealing with the brunt of misconceptions, he still did it all freely. Perhaps now he would’ve reacted differently, but Hoseok’s actions have always been his own despite what people could think, and that’s simply why he’s able to start again.

“I just feel like I’m some sort of puppet.” Yoongi believes his voice to sound hollow, more so than he intended. With it spoken, he already feels like it should be pulled back and hidden away. With how much freedom he was given to produce his music that suited the brand, and release a few independently conceptualized songs now and again without permission, Yoongi realizes that he was given the most to work with.

For you, Hoseok, and even Jimin your creative inputs were disregarded entirely. For Yoongi it was always just a distance between himself and the public; something meant to appear unattainable. He speaks quieter, without realizing the words escape, “I’m not ever supposed to be me.”

Your chest stings as his drifting focus leads away from you. Something so consuming about his words go so far as to even mesh into Yoongi’s voice, and he’s in your touch but you feel like you’re not a presence for whatever problems are further within his somber admissions. From his cheek, your hand falls away to settle on his shoulder, squeezing bits of warmth that snap his stare back to you.

“You’ve always been you to me.” The sentiment outwardly appears small, but the conviction amidst your gentle voice resonates deeply in Yoongi’s chest. With his eyes widening so slightly he finds himself in silence, for some reason baffled by your statement, because certainly how the two of you interacted very initially could have led incorrect assumptions of who he is.

“Yeah, but I don’t have to be SUGA around you.” Yoongi says, recalling the simplistic intention of releasing music as an idol years ago. “Ever since debut everyone always picked how I’m supposed to act and look on their own,” He sighs, reaching to rub his head and then tugging some of the locks, “Even my hair,” There’s a passing scoff as his voice grows spiteful, “It’s been blonde since my debut-- more than five years, and I’ve never been able to get anyone to let me change it.”

His rambling falters as he realizes the ridiculousness of it all. Yoongi’s arm drops back to his side, and he sighs softly, head shaking, “I shouldn’t be saying this, angel, I’m sorry. You probably think it’s whiny,” He mumbles with a remorseful twinge, and you shake your head immediately, trying to speak in opposition to the idea but Yoongi goes on to finish, “I never thought about how much I hate pretending to be something until right now.”

“Yoongi,” Your grip on his shoulder shakes him slightly as your voice trickles out fervently for his ears to tune into. “It’s not wrong for you to feel bad about this-- if I never met you I would’ve been played by your management team too, but what people see of you in media isn’t you,” You frown, wondering if any of this makes any sense. “And you can be mad about that, Yoon, really. You didn’t want to be any of that-- I know you. I know it hurts having to follow along with everything without say, you can be mad about it. It’s okay to be.”

“I have everything else though-- they let me make my own music and everything, how am I supposed to be ungrateful about that one thing--” Yoongi grits his teeth as the retort sounded closer to an exclamation, but it’s infuriating in his mind. Escaping as frustration in blurring irises. “Why should I be complaining when you have it worse?”

Your thumbs acknowledge the tears before Yoongi’s senses do. In a startle his shoulders tense at the tiny brush to relieve his cheeks of trickling he desperately wishes would cease now that he realizes it escapes his eyes. Blinking tightly does nothing but expel more, and his jaw feels so pressured from clamming shut. “Yoon, if something hurts it hurts. Your problems aren’t less than mine.”

Yoongi wants to combat the claim, but your slight smile stops him. Empathetically bright like a small flame. He remains silent, as tension abandons his shoulders and similar words he’s said to you play through his mind. Tightening his lips together cause a new glistening trail from his eyes as remnants of the emotional flood drain away. Yoongi tugs you closer to him, arms encircle your waist to hug you as you settle your hands to rub soothingly through his hair.

“I know it’s just me saying this, but I think it’d be really hard to never be yourself in front of the world, Yoon.” You tell him while Yoongi’s face buries against your shoulder, hidden away but kept protectively close within your embrace. “You don’t have to keep it all in.”

Carefully, Yoongi’s arms tighten, clinging in a way to your person and all the safety it feels to dispel into him. He remains static as the tears in his eyes evaporate from the calmness of silence and a chance to recollect himself, yet feel much more relieving. Your fingertips seemingly perpetual massage against his scalp, and the stable feeling of you within his arms act as a constant, bringing back the equilibrium so everything feels manageable.

“I really don’t want you to go and talk to Yerin about my job, angel.” Yoongi murmurs after a small eternity of comforting quiet. As he pulls away only enough to look at you, he sees your expression changed into the slightest of dissatisfaction with his words. Realizing you clearly planned to say whatever you could, Yoongi smiles gently, face a little puffy from the tears. “I’m certain she won’t change her mind anyways.”

“But-” You start and immediately grow silent. Despite what he’s said, you can’t stop feeling responsible, and like you should be trying to help fix what Yoongi lost. However, the delay in the conversation let logic enter your head again and you know he’s right. Trying to get back in would be practically useless.

In the midst of your contemplation, Yoongi’s lips find yours in a short kiss, surprising your focus back to him. Leaving only a few centimeters of space, he speaks, “I’ll figure something out. Maybe this’ll be for the best.” Your immediate squeeze on his shoulder makes him momentarily puzzled, wondering if the last sentence sparked worry, but Yoongi doesn’t worry long as you very assertively reply,

“We’ll figure something out.” Subdued determined sparkles in your eyes, causing Yoongi’s head to imperceptibly nod as he registers the intention of paraphrasing his sentence with a different pronoun. Involving yourself into this matter. Yoongi’s lips curl upwards. “Whatever happens, at least you’ll be able to do it however you want, babe.”

“Babe?” He repeats, smile growing wider while your mouth shuts and your eyes avert. Finding an inkling of embarrassment in your pout as he points out the term of endearment you make a grumbling whine that Yoongi chuckles at. “Sorry, it was just cute.” He explains only serving to earn a glare from your growing flustered expression, “You’re right, angel. I don’t know what’ll happen, but we get to pick it all now.”

With the severity of the situation drifting in the ambiance, you both find further conversation puzzling. In favor of allowing your mind to wander, your rosy pigments simply fade as the question of what to do now perpetuates itself in the forefront of attention. By the way Yoongi rests is forehead back on your shoulder, and his fingers lock with each other as he holds you, you’re sure that despite both of your best intentions to remain positive, it’s difficult to do so.

The two of you have been cast aside from the backing of a company, and with the songs released only a day earlier, surely the loss of good reputation in the public hasn’t peaked yet. You haven’t even found the will to look through comments on the released tracks, and with everything going how it is, you’re not sure how you’ll be able to convince yourself to.

“Were you and Jin going to do something together earlier?”

“What?” You blink, then shove the thoughts in your head aside to recall the rest of the events that day. “Oh,” You shake your head as Yongi stands upright once more, letting his hands fall away from you. “No, we were just driving from Namjoon’s place.”

Yoongi’s eyebrows furrow in pure confusion, “Just to drive around?”

At the memory of the situation in the cafe your voice falters in your throat. Not that you were unwilling to speak to Yoongi about the issue, but to begin with you weren’t certain if the three of you had overreacted, and with the added news from SoundWave you wanted to ignore that topic altogether. The last thing you wanted to give Yoongi was another thing to worry about, but when you recall the camera flash and the undeniable act of following you from the subway station, your hands curl from the thought.

“Well, not exactly,” Trusting the instinct in your heartbeat, you finally sigh, rubbing your hands together as you decide to tell him. You imagine despite the worry, Yoongi would want to know. “When the three of us were talking in the cafe like usual there was a group of a few kids-- I guess teenagers, that took a picture with the flash on and Seokjin called them out about it because he thought they were taking a picture of me.” Unable to look up at him as you recount the moment, you simply go on so as not to allow the residual discomfort of it all to make you go quiet. “And there was another table of people about the same age that had come in while we were all talking, and Joon was worried that they were all there to follow me, and,” You shrug. A strong waver that you’re acting overly sensitive brushes through your spine. “Jin and I left because of it… In case other people showed up. I don’t know if they were all really there for me though.”

“Angel,” You glance timidly up to Yoongi as he continues speaking softly, “You’re okay?”

“Yeah,” You say perhaps too quickly. Definitely too fast. Yoongi’s eyebrows crease, clearly bothered by what you just described. “I really don’t know if it was anything bad.” You eventually mumble.

“If you’re nervous like this, I think it gave you a bad feeling too, sweetie.” Yoongi cups your jaw, gently bringing your eyes back to his. “It does sound like they were there for you like Jin and Namjoon thought, to be honest with you.”

You sigh, squeezing your hands together.

“Hey,” He frowns, noticing the contorting signs of anxiousness invading your face. “Sweetie, it’s okay-”

“You think it’s going to get worse than today?” You ask in a small voice. Yoongi’s mouth closes, and the silent answer is enough for you to nod, “Okay,” A longer inhale feeds into your lungs and you let it settle there for passing seconds then release in a slow exhale. “Okay. I’ll have to get used to it then.” A false positivity tries to make itself real in your words.

“I’ll be with you too.” Yoongi says as his hands strays to brush hair from your face. “Not that it’s the biggest comfort,” He chuckles softly before you interrupt his doubting laughter by pressing your lips against his. Your hands tug his shoulders closer, deepening the kiss into lasting moments as Yoongi’s fingertips find your hips to grip onto.

“It’s actually the best comfort.” You murmur between breaths, letting the words collide against his rosy lips. “Thank you.”

Yoongi hums a reciprocation as you smile, then simply leans his head back to kiss you again. His hands travel up along your sides and down in smooth rubbing motions, while you allow your arms to cascade loosely around his neck. When there’s a need for oxygen do your lips part, to take in small breaths and Yoongi abandons your lips in favor of fluttering, sweet kisses along your cheek, erupting enamored giggles from you peacefully.

“I’m glad we were forced to date each other.”

“Shut up,” You laugh at the way light-hearted voice he speaks with. “You hated me.”

“Didn’t.” Yoongi shakes his head though he’s chuckling while randomly arranging more dotting ministrations all over your face in a languid manner that you feel no need to hinder. “I hated Yerin treating us however, but we don’t have to think about her anymore.”

“That actually sounds wonderful.” You admit with a growing grin. Yoongi smiles as he pulls his head away to look at you properly. “That’s the best thing that could’ve been said today.”

“Yeah?” He chuckles, then squeezes your waist with a growing, endeared flurry filling his chest as you kiss his lips softly, in a simple manner. You nod smiling sincerely up at him, looking so much brighter than minutes earlier. More settled, Yoongi thinks, though he knows this isn’t the end of worries concerning everything going on. But it feels a little easier to face now. “Are you free the rest of the day?”

“Yeah. Should we go search for part-time jobs?” You tilt your head with the joke, and Yoongi rolls his eyes. “I’m free though. I’d actually really like to just be with you, if you are too.”

Yoongi smiles, biting his lip as he’s sure he’ll become visibly enamored by your sweet tone. He kisses you before you’re able to tease him about the flustering expression. “Maybe you won’t want to after hearing where I’m going to ask you to join me at.”

---

“Are you regretting it now?” Yoongi smiles as he turns the chair to look at you as you sit on a bench beside the hair styling station. With one of his caps propped atop your head, and another cap and his cardigan in a bundle on your lap, you shake your head, smiling at the appearance of his hair completely sectioned off in bunches. Having been wrapped neatly in tin foil, you know this is entering into the latter portion of the impromptu hair appointment having already spent close to two hours in the conditioning treatment phase.

“No, because we’re going to eat after this so I have the love of my life to look forward to.” You search your pocket for your phone to memorialize the appearance as Yoongi whines knowingly,

“Don’t take pictures; I look like an android.”

“More like an alien, babe.” You grin as you snap a series of pictures, while Yoongi starts the shoot with a scowl that turns into a wide unamused smile when you pout at him for cooperation. “Aw, you’re adorable.”

“I’m going to take pictures of you scarfing down food.” He mutters to himself, as he turns the chair back towards the mirror. Yoongi examines the situation atop his head as the dye works to make itself permanent over the locks of blonde hair he’s had for the majority of his adult life. Sitting there he feels a build up of anticipation for the end result, an excitement mixed with a doubtful wonder about if he would look familiar after returning his hair to its natural color.

Glancing back towards you, he finds your cheeks puffed in concentration as you click around rampantly on your phone. Probably adding ridiculous filters or stickers to the pictures of him you just took. Yoongi smiles, finding it both amazing and strange that he’s grown so close to you throughout the passing year. Warmed at the prospect of the change he’s gone through so far, despite the uncertainty of what’s to come.

Where the year prior he felt incapable of acting completely as he wants, now Yoongi feels encouraged by you to do what he wants in the way that you’re also trying your best to change your life back into your own control.

“Oh, Joon’s calling me,” You say out of surprise by the screen changing suddenly on your phone.

“It’s sort of loud in here, why don’t you talk to him in the lobby?” Yoongi offers while the barrage of hair dryers and chatter in the evening portion of the business day reigns on. You nod, standing up and clutching his items against your chest as you begin to walk off, “Sweetie, you can just leave my stuff there,” Yoongi chuckles as you only become aware of his clothing as he’s brought it to your attention. Laughing bashfully you neatly plop the items,

“Right, I wasn’t thinking.” You admit sheepishly before gently prodding your fingertip into his cheek when he begins to grin. “Be right back.”

After your leave, Yoongi reaches to the messy countertop below the mirror for his own phone. Knowing he’s left it on silent all day along with not checking up on any notifications, he isn’t surprised to find a multitude of alerts in a line on the lock screen. Dismissing the majority of social media ones, he instead opens the text thread that he left alone earlier after saying he’ll text back later in the evening.

Hoseok, 2:24pm: Get back to me whenever you feel able. I know it’s hard to deal with, but I’m always here, bro.

Yoongi, 6:35pm: I’m doing the impulsive haircut route.

Hoseok, 6:37pm: Please tell me you’re doing a glamorous pink color?

Yoongi laughs, looking up as his stylist walks over from down the aisle. Peeking carefully beneath the tin foil to check the coloring, he works silently while Yoongi responds.

Yoongi, 6:40pm: Not this time, sorry. Also, I’m sure you’re worried and I really have no clue what I’m going to do yet, but I’m okay.

“It looks ready to go,” The stylist nods to himself, and begins to remove a bunch of tin foil one by one. “I’m usually touching up your roots, so I was pretty surprised when you wanted the exact opposite this time.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi says as he hears the crinkling of the shiny metallic papers that propel his heart into an excited beat. “I like it this way a lot more than the blonde.”

“Sure it’s not your girlfriend isn’t the one who does?” He asks with no ill-will, just a smile at the joking banter while he looks at the dark locks heavy with the dye. Yoongi take a moment to respond as he also catches the stark difference of color being revealed atop his head.

“No, I don’t think she’s ever seen me with black hair.” Yoongi says without focus, while thinking more about the ease of maintaining his hair now that he won’t have to come in every other week to bleach his roots. Without any of the tinfoil obscuring his view, he finds himself biting his lip as his cold locks of hair weigh down on his scalp, only now needing a rinse and dry to fully reveal what the new style of his natural hair will look like.

“Well, let’s give her a nice surprise then. Follow me back to get it shampooed and conditioned.”

“Namjoon,” You roll your eyes at your friend whining through the receiver about a customer that just walked out leaving their drink mostly untouched. “I’m sure the drink tastes fine, dude.”

“They just left it though,” He gripes on, muttering incomprehensibly as you assume he cleans up the remnants. “This is the best-selling drink right now-”

“Joon, you said you wanted to tell me something,” You laugh as you rub your face, back leaning against a wall beside the check-in counter for the salon.

“Oh, right.” You shake your head at the fact his voice sounds entirely surprised that he forgot the entire reason for calling you while he spent the last twenty minutes complaining about customers throughout the day. “Some other kids came in awhile after you and Jin left-- well maybe they were more like teenagers.” You bite your lip so as not to laugh at the similar rambling he does like you had. “But anyways, they definitely came in hoping to spot you. They were asking me if I was friends with you.”

“Oh, yeah?” Your grip on the phone tightens as you think about the other groups following you for pictures and now even this one came in to directly search for you.

“Yeah, they wanted to know because they wanted me to tell you that they really liked the music you and Yoongi made together.” Your grip lessens as his words enter your ear. With a surprised stupor you let him continue right along. “They’re big fans of Yoongi, but they think you did a really good job on the music. They were saying it’s probably hard considering all the other stuff being said on the internet.”

“Really?”

Namjoon remains quiet, smiling gently at the utterly shocked tone of your voice. Knowing the day you’ve had has likely been full of stressful news, he also feels better about things as he recounts the information to you. “Yeah, they were really sincere about it.”

Even after ending the phone call you find yourself stunned silent from the opposite news that you anticipated from Namjoon as he first started to tell you about the fans. With a smile growing at the potential for others to have similar perspectives, you feel lighter. This isn’t the ideal scenario to play out for releasing music, but you’ll take the good out of it in stride. It’s the best thing to do after all.

“Angel,” Your shoulders startle from your thoughts as Yoongi’s voice calls out to you from the side. You turn your head as he walks over. “Your phonecall took forever-”

“Whoa,” Your mouth stays open wide as your eyes go straight to the dark hair atop his head. Turning on your heel in surprise as you continue to take in the new style, you find it to be so different. Obviously it would be, but the fact that you couldn’t properly imagine his hair like this until seeing it as you stand there leaves you in awe. “Yoon, it looks so nice.”

“You think so?” You become aware of his voice’s timidness, clearly still in suspense on what your verdict would be on the style. Yoongi’s eyes meet yours when you finally look towards them from his black hair. He feels his chest tighten as you smile up at him and nod your head.

“I like it a lot.”

Yoongi’s lips curl in satisfaction, his heart swelling even more so as you take the step closer so you can reach up to immerse your fingers in the fluffy, night-like hair. Unable to contain the swift kiss on your lips that lasts only a moment because of location, Yoongi’s mouth grows into a grin as he states peacefully, “Me too.”

if you enjoy please, please let me know via ask, comment, rb with tags– however ! i’d just really appreciate feedback 🥺 i hope you enjoy the series, i’m working really hard on it! : )

tag list (send an ask to be added): @jaiuneamesolitaiire​ @tsvkino-usagi​@xionysus​​ @baebyjoonie​ @honeyoongles​ @betysotelo18​

[lostlitany]

ANOTHER!

7: Were there any ideas you had for "Damn Straight Gay" that you couldn’t make work? What were they?

11: Which OC of yours do you think is the most similar to you? Which OC is the most different? Why?

23: What’s one piece of advice you would give to anyone who wants to start writing or posting their writing online?

Ayyyy another~!! This got pretty heckin’ long soooo

7. Damn Straight Gay ideas that couldn’t work

I’ve long since deleted my draft doc for that fic, but I remember there were a bunch of scenes I had planned out that never made it to the final cut. I had originally planned for the chapters to switch perspectives back and forth between Bakugou and Kirishima- but I wrote the first two chapters from Bakugou’s point of view and ended up deciding to keep the whole fic like that.

Obviously with the deletion of Kiri’s POV, there comes the loss of all the dates he and what’s her face were supposed to go on (what did I even name that extra? Like Yuuna or something? Idr). Either way, Kiri’s chapters we’re supposed to center around the actual relationship and the growing toxicity between the two of them. I imagined they would go places and Kirishima would keep bringing up going to those places with Bakugou, which is why we see a lot of Bakugou reminiscing throughout the story. I wanted the story to have Bakugou or Kirishima reminiscing about their past, through either Bakugou’s moping, or Kirishima’s dates, and for that to be kinda solemn and off, and then kinda re-envision those same areas with the two of them being awkward around each other and regretting the breakup.

Another big thing that got scrapped was that I had actually originally planned for Yuuna and Bakugou to meet! I wanted them to hate each other immediately- Bakugou of course would’ve played cordial because he’s a simp for Ei, but Yuuna was going to act more along the lines of “I don’t like you hanging out with him- you should stop talking to him for me”

But, without writing the dates, there really was no need for Yuuna to have an onscreen character. So I kept her separate from Bakugou and all we know about the toxic girlfriend is what Bakugou hears from other people who have met her.

I think it worked better because the story was meant to be focused on Bakugou and Kirishima’s relationship, and having Yuuna like actually around and present may have distracted from the boy’s relationship and put more spotlight on her relationship with Kirishima- So I think it’s a good thing I ended up scrapping so much. It made for a better structured story-

11. Which OC is most similar / different - Why?

So as far as my published work goes, the only OCs I think I really have- are Kirishima’s family. And I definitely haven’t really written enough of them to say much more than I’m most like Satori, the badass mom who teases Kirishima the whole time Bakugou’s over- and I’m least like Mei, the pleasant, sunshine and rainbows cutesy type who giggles warmly at her family’s antics and enjoys sitting back and watching the show.

Just to be obnoxious and not answer the question properly- I will also say this because my characterizations are based off of cannon, but are decidedly not- I am most similar to the way I write Bakugou and least similar to the way I write Kirishima. In both Damn Gay and The Exception, Bakugou and his situation have been practically directly ripped from my life. Some of the words exchanged between him and other characters are real conversations I’ve had with different friends and acquaintances. Kirishima on the other hand, is vastly different. His characterization has been a mixture of my three best friends over the years- and one very special detail that I force onto him that quite a few other authors don’t- is that I make him quite easily manipulated. In Damn Gay he gets caught up in a toxic relationship and gives up everything he actually cares about to force himself to life with this girl that he only got with once Mina accidentally convinced him to move on from Bakugou. In The Exception the same thing happens where he finds something that makes him happy, a couple things go wrong, and he easily leaves Bakugou behind when Mina suggests it. In cannon, I think despite his doubts towards himself, he’s a lot more sure of his friends. But in my portrayal of him, he’s a lot less weak willed when it comes to bumps in his relationships and friendships. I write Kirishima as an easily influenced ray of sunshine who aims to please people, and as soon as things start to go south, he shuts himself up and drowns out his own thoughts, turning to other people around him to make harder decisions for him because he doesn’t trust himself to do it. This is in contrast to Bakugou who makes stupid decisions and jumps to moronic conclusions all on his own, who when things get tough, jumps at the opportunity to push through it as fast as possible just to get over it and get past all the emotions, thoughts, and feelings that would otherwise hold him down. Kiri dwells on it much longer and drags those rough moments out inadvertently, by waiting for his problems to go away on their own.

22. Writing advice for beginners of writing or posting

New writers- Write what you want to read. As I’ve said before I have a whole plethora of OCs that I’ve created and written stories for. I made characters and relationships to fill in my own self indulgent fantasies, and that got me hooked. I wrote for myself and that was it. I wasn’t planning on posting it anywhere, I was too embarrassed to show my friends, I wasn’t aiming to please anyone. I wrote forced story plots and 2 dimensional characters that made me happy. It established writing as a fun pastime in my head. If you go into this looking for follows and kudos and comments, it’s going to get very depressing very fast, and you’re most likely going to stop before you even get started. So ignore the world. Write for you first, and when you figure out how to make you happy, then start writing for real. If you want that shot of straight serotonin that comes from constructive feedback- bug me. Text me. Email me. DM me. Idk. Find me and share with me what you’ve written. We all have to start somewhere and building a solid foundation on your own can be very difficult. If this is something that you want to really do, I’m no professional, but I want to help. Write for you, then find a beta, or a friend. Someone who can gush over your characters and such with you. Create a strong link between writing and happiness in your brain. Hack your mind to make writing fun and rewarding, so later down the line when you’re good enough to get hate, it can’t affect you.

New posters- Don’t doubt what you’ve made. There are 7 billion people on this planet. If you’ve written something really niche and small and overly self indulgent and you think nobody else is going to like it- remember the phrase one in a million. If you are one in a million, there are 700 other people out there like you. That self indulgent fic that you wrote specifically for you? Post it. Because there may be 700 other people looking for exactly that. You never know what people are looking for. You never know what people are willing to try out. 50 Shades of Grey was a fanfiction.......

Are they not part of a fandom? Are they your original characters? Cool, Steven Universe is filled of original characters. So is Avatar. Oh! And My Hero. Every fandom started off as a collection of Original Characters. I’ll read about your kids if you’ll read about mine.

[discovisiondreams]

Top 15 First Watches of 2020

I’ve never been good at staying current on pop culture, and that became especially pronounced in 2020. A year where most of the anticipated theatrical releases were pushed to VOD (and the price nearly tripled) meant that a lot of flicks I was excited for got added to the end of the “Maybe Someday” watchlist. 

But in this strange year, I did manage to watch 245 movies- and 195 of those were first-time watches. Some were new, only available on the (virtual) festival circuit. Some were Criterion mainstays, films I’m horrified to admit I hadn’t seen before. But this year, when movies cemented themself as my biggest joy, I began to really track what I watched- including a “top 5 first watches of the month” roundup for every month. These top 5s weren’t ranked, and weren’t even based on technical ability, strength of dialogue, or critical acclaim. They were just the 5 I loved the best. 

So without further ado, here are my top 15 of the year- one selected from the top 5 of each month, with some bonus entries thrown in as well. As a general rule, I only included features on this list- I was fortunate enough to catch shorts that streamed at Chattanooga Film Fest, Celebration of Fantastic Fest, and more, but to add them to the running would have made writing this listicle absolutely impossible. 

HONORABLE Honorable Mention: The Holiday. Inspired by the fine folks at Super Yaki, I finally watched this Nancy Meyers classic. Why is it two and a half hours long?! Why is that two and a half hours so significantly lacking in Jack Black?! The scenes that Black is in, though, really shine. This one is going to be a Christmas mainstay in the Disco household (and not just because I spent money on the DVD).

15: The Love Witch (Honorable Mention, April). This one came highly recommended to me by friends of all sorts, and like most of my 2020 first watches, I’m deeply embarrassed that it took me this long to get to it. Upon finally watching it, on a rainy Sunday, I described the movie in general (and the color palette, specifically) as “sumptuous,” which is one of the most complimentary visual descriptors I can bestow upon a movie. The plot felt a little convoluted at times, but I still found The Love Witch incredibly enjoyable and am hoping to explore more of writer-director Anna Biller’s filmography in 2021.

14: The Guest (Honorable Mention, October). The Guest is one of the few movies I watched multiple times this year- and the only one I watched twice in one week. From the sultry industrial soundtrack selections to the numerous visual nods to Halloween III: Season of the Witch, The guest was Extremely My Shit. The casting here is truly tremendous- especially Maika Monroe, who was similarly brilliant in It Follows. Also of note: Lance Reddick, one of my current favourite character actors. 

13: The Fast and The Furious (Honorable Mention, May). 2 Fast 2 Furious (and its bespoke theme song, Act A Fool, by Ludacris) came out when I was in the 6th grade. Do you remember the music and movies that entered the world when you were in 6th grade? Do you have an inexplicable zealous love for them? 2F2F was the only film in the Fast Cinematic Universe I had seen for a long, long time. Then I saw Fate of the Furious. Then I bought the series box set, as a joke?? And then, slowly but then also all at once, I genuinely started to love this franchise. Some of them are truly ridiculous. Some of them are genuinely bad. But the first one? The Fast and The Furious (2001)? Timeless. Point Break updated and adapted for the early-aughts, The Fast and the Furious walked so The Italian Job (2003) could run. Without The Fast and The Furious, Paul Walker would just be “the guy from Tammy and The T-Rex” to millions of casual cinemagoers. The cultural impact of The Fast and The Furious simply cannot be denied!! 

12: Come to Daddy (Top 5, July). Honestly, this is the exact flavor of bonkers bullshit I’ve grown to expect from Elijah Wood, and that is not an indictment. Wood’s genuine love for genre film is evident here, in what can only be described as an uncomfortable film of family, reunion, and redemption. The tense and abrasive first half gives way to a surprisingly relieving wave of violence and exposition in this critically-acclaimed flick. 

11: The Stylist (Top 5, September). The feature-length debut of writer-director Jill Gevargizian, based off her short of the same name, is female-led horror that pays homage to genre mainstays like Maniac and Psycho while still being decidedly singular. Not only shot in Kansas City, but set in Kansas City, The Stylist made my midwestern heart happy. This is one that I really, really would have loved to see in a crowded theater auditorium, were this year a different one. 

10: In The Mouth of Madness (Top 5, March). Despite being the beginning of pandemic awareness, March was a slow month for me, movie-wise (even though it’s not like I had anything else going on??). But I finally made time for this Carpenter classic, and I’m so happy I did. I’ve long been fascinated by stories about stories, and the people who find themselves trapped within those stories, and this one is truly, in the most basic sense of the word, horrifying. Sam Neill proves that he belongs in horror here, making his role in Event Horizon seem like a natural fit. Also a highlight: noted character actor David Warner, best known (to me) as “Billy Zane’s bodyguard guy in Titanic,” who never ever fails to be unsettling. 

9: Profondo Rosso (Top 5, April). Before this year, my only Argento exposure was Suspiria (which is phenomenal), but Deep Red goes off the deep end in all the best ways. The score (by frequent Argento collaborators Goblin) is truly groovy. The number of twists and turns the plot takes is kind of mind-boggling, but also delightful. Daria Nicolodi (RIP)  is at the top of her acting game here. This quickly became one of my beloved background movies- if I opened Shudder and Profondo Rosso was playing on one of their live-streaming channels, it stayed on while I was cleaning or cooking or paying bills. Profondo Rosso is a must-watch for those hoping to get into giallo.

8: Crimson Peak (Top 5, November). This one was definitely not what I was expecting, but it was GORGEOUS. I loved the world immediately (a Del Toro trademark, to be honest). As a longtime Pacific Rim stan, it made my heart happy to see Charlie Hunnam and Burn Gorman reunited under Guillermo Del Toro’s vision. 

7: Palm Springs (Top 5, August). I am not typically a time-travel movie enthusiast- but I am a sucker for witty repartee and Andy Samberg. This one made me ugly-cry, which I should probably be a bit more ashamed to admit. August had a lot of really great first watches, but the Hulu exclusive takes the cake due to its novel premise, some truly heart-wrenching reveals, and the amazing casting (is there anything JK Simmons cant do?). 

6: Scare Package (Top 5, May). Is there any format I love more than the horror anthology? While there have been so many over the years (Creepshow, All the Creatures Were Stirring), Scare Package might be my favourite of them all. A variety of fun and inventive stories combined with a genre-lovers dream of an overarching narrative make this one a must-see- in fact, it was the whole reason I bought a pass to this year’s online version of Chattanooga Film Fest. There’s a cameo here that absolutely knocked my socks off (and continued to do so even on repeat viewings). While the scares here are honestly minimal, Scare Package is a great love letter to the genre at large.

5: Do The Right Thing (Top 5, June). Yes, it took me until 2020 to watch Do The Right Thing for the first time. The palpable tension, the interwoven stories of Bed-Stuy’s residents, all seem timeless. Giancarlo Esposito is, as always, a joy to watch. 

4: Knives Out (Top 5, February). “It’s a Rian Johnson whodunnit, duh,” states the SuperYaki! T-shirt famously worn by Jamie Lee Curtis, star of Knives Out (2019). This one has received worlds of critical acclaim, I truly do not know what I could even hope to add to the conversation. I want more old-school murder mystery cinema.

3: The VelociPastor (Top 5, January). It should be testimonial enough that The VelociPastor beat out Miss Americana, Netflix’s Taylor Swift documentary, as the top pick for January- but in case it isn’t, let me end 2020 the way I began it; by evangelizing the HECK out of this movie. Written and directed by up-and-coming triple-threat (Director/songwriter/prolific cat-photo-poster) Brendan Steere, The VelociPastor is a true love letter to genre cinema, complete with a big wink to the criminally underloved Miami Connection. Alyssa Kempinski shines as Carol, a doctor/lawyer/hooker with a heart of gold. The VelociPastor premiered in 2019 but gained tons of attention in 2020 (thanks in part to YouTube sensation Cody Ko)- attention that it truly deserves. A sequel is rumored to be in the works, but mark my words, anything to come from the imagination of Brendan Steere will be worth a watch. 

2: Dinner in America (Top 5, October). I genuinely feel sorry for the other movies I watched in October (there were a lot) (they were all SO GOOD). Dinner in America, which I caught during the Nightstream hybrid festival, was not at all what I was expecting. While the other features were all very solidly genre flicks, this was…. A comedy? A modern love story?? I’mn honestly still not exactly sure, but I do know I loved every second of it. I laughed. I cried. I threw my hands up in the air exuberantly (in front of my laptop, looking like a true fool). I did not shut up about this movie online for weeks. I told anyone and everyone that Kyle Gallner is the most underrated actor of my generation and I still believe it! Dinner in America, the story of a punk band frontman who unwittingly takes refuge from the police in the home of his biggest fan, was an unexpectedly heartwarming tale of family, young love, and arson. Watch it as soon as you can. 

1: Promising Young Woman (Top 5, December). This last-minute debut from Emerald Fennell, originally scheduled to hit theaters in April of this year, finally made its way to the big screen on Christmas Day, and became the 2020 entry on my annual “Christmas Day Trip to the Theater” list.* Carey Mulligan is an icon and deserves all of the awards for this. The soundtrack is sublime. The casting choices are truly incredible. While I have no doubt that the general themes of the movie will be polarizing, I absolutely loved this one- I sat in my car in the theater parking lot for a WHILE, considering just buying a ticket for the next showtime- that’s how badly I felt like I needed to see it again immediately. I look forward to writing its inevitable Criterion essay.

*Nobody else in rural iowa was interested in seeing this movie at noon on Christmas Day. I’m shocked.

[evalinkatrineberg]

C5 - The Ball

A/N: Just shy of 19k words of Evalin being Evalin. Includes RPs with @ladyreggiewright @arin-schreave @hugo-stanton @clemencewestley and @idaliamoretti . Potential TW for the last italicized section at the end, for non-consensual kissing. ALSO I wrote one of Evalin’s thoughts before the official Theo reveal, and decided to keep it in for shits and giggles lmao

My parents picked up the FaceTime call on the first ring, their heads smushed together as they bickered over where the best spot to place their phone was, in order for me to see everyone that was there. It had been a family tradition for as long as I could remember to have a backyard barbecue on Illéan Independence Day. Normally, it was a pretty large gathering, including our family, some of the neighbors, some of my parents’ coworkers, and their families, leaving little space to walk or even sit in our average sized backyard.

From what I could see as my parents backed away from the phone, however, the event was a lot smaller this year - just my family, and June’s. Not that it seemed like anyone was complaining about that, but it did raise some questions in my own mind, especially when I considered the phone call my father had made to me at two in the morning a few weeks ago. Even Lukas had said that things were getting bad there.

I could see what he meant. It was as if none of my father’s coworkers were speaking to him anymore.

Nonetheless, I forced a smile on to my face, holding the flute of champagne Grace had had delivered to my room in the air, so that everyone gathered in my backyard in Carolina could see it. “I’m afraid I don’t have much time,” I admitted, feeling Julia tug at my hair with a towel, finishing up drying my curls before beginning to style them, “but I absolutely refused to miss the annual toast.”

“Of course,” Gabriel stated, holding the beer in his hand aloft from the Adirondack chair in which he sat. “Cheers, Ev.”

“Cheers,” I echoed alongside the rest of my family, taking about three sips of champagne before setting the flute back down on my desk. I had practically had to beg Grace to bring it up for me, spending all of forty-five minutes explaining and emphasizing just how important this family tradition was to not only me, but to my parents and siblings as well. In the end, she had relented, though Julia had grumbled about it until the bitter end.

“I wish I was there, with you,” June called through the screen, shaking her head, her dark curls bouncing against her cheeks. “Do me a favor, and find a cute man tonight, and send him my way. The guys around here just aren’t cutting it anymore.”

I laughed, assuring her, “I’ll do my best,” though I wasn’t entirely sure how many people were going to be in attendance at the ball tonight. There were the German royals, the Italian royals, and the Illean royals, of course, along with the Grahams and Wylan Caldwell, but beyond that, all I had been told was vague terms like, “palace staff,” and, “notable individuals,” which meant next to nothing to me. Maybe more specifics had been given, but I had been too focused on online classes, which had also started up this week, to pay close attention to them.

“Speaking of men,” Lydia began, setting her beer down on the brick patio beneath her chair, “has His Royal Asshole been on better behavior since we last spoke about him?”

Behind me, Julia made a noise that sounded like she was screaming with her mouth closed as she parted my hair with a fine toothed comb. I laughed, partially at the sound that Julia had made, but also at my sister’s nickname for Arin, which didn’t appear to be going out of use anytime soon.

“He’s been a good deal better, actually,” I replied, taking a few more sips of champagne. “He took me to the ballet a couple of weeks ago, and -” And we cozied up on the floor together. And we actually talked without arguing. And he called me stunning and adorable. I shook my head, feeling the color rising to my cheeks already. “It was good.”

“Just good?” Lydia raised her eyebrows, picking her beer back up and taking a long drink, glaring at the phone she was looking at me through.

It had been more than good, but I didn’t want to divulge the details of the date in front of my parents. My mother might have a fit if she found out that I had sat on the floor, even if it was within the walls of a private box. “I’ll tell you more another time,” I assured her, “but if I don’t hurry, I am going to be late.”

After a few quick goodbyes, I closed my laptop, allowing Julia to finish up on my hair, and Christina to finish up on my makeup. The dress they had had made for tonight was black, and fit me like a glove, ending with a little slit in the side down by my mid-calf. It came complete with a cape of gossamer silk, little strands of silver woven in, almost like the seamstress that had made this dress had plucked the stars from the sky to do so. I had been a little apprehensive about the cape at first, insistent that in combination with the high heeled shoes I would have to wear, it would almost certainly lead to me tripping and falling at some point, or possibly even rip the cape. However, Julia had reassured me that it would be fine, and I was in no shape to argue with her about it.

The start of the online semester had somehow made my sleep schedule even worse. At this point, I was surviving almost solely off of caffeine and sheer willpower. At the very least, the work kept me distracted, which meant I had less time to overthink that I was doing here. However, the increased workload had prevented me from seeing Arin since the ballet. Even at Wylan’s party, I had only been able to pop in for all of a few minutes, which I had spent chatting with Itzel. That had only been the week that the pre-semester work had been due. Now, with the real semester in full swing, in combination with our lessons here, and the recent slough of visiting foreign dignitaries, I was swamped. I’d actually fallen asleep in the library more than once, much to my own embarrassment. Luckily, I didn’t think anybody had noticed it, yet.

Tonight’s ball was a welcome reprieve from the work, though. I finished the last of the champagne, checking my reflection in the mirror one last time before turning towards the door, satisfied with what I had seen. Some days, I almost didn’t recognize the person I saw in the mirror. She stood with a straighter back, and a head held higher than the Evalin I had used to see in the mirror. My reflection even moved with a level of grace that I had not previously thought I’d possessed. The lessons we were getting here were really paying off, both inside and outside of the classroom.

I kept to myself as I walked down the hallway, speaking almost exclusively to the personal guard that had been assigned to escort me into the large hall where dinner was to be taking place. The meal itself flew by quickly, beginning with the presentation of the foreign royals, and then the Illean royals, and ending with everyone being ushered into the Grand Hall, which was decked out in gauzy strips of fabric and light colors, dousing the room in every color under the sun. I stared at it, wide eyed as I walked in spinning in a small circle to make sure I didn’t miss a single detail. Whoever had put this together must have spent hours planning and decorating. I wished there was some way I could pass my compliments on to them, because they deserved it.

With that, the dancing begun, a full orchestra playing a mix of fast songs, waltzes, and instrumental versions of more modern songs. I allowed myself to be swept up in it all, dancing with whoever was closest to me at the moment. After a lifetime of keeping myself so put together, so set in my rigid routine, it felt nice to just be able to let go of all that for a few hours, my only concern whether or not I could prevent myself from stepping on the feet of whoever was spinning me in circles at the moment.

After a handful of numbers, I made my way back to the edge of the crowd, needing a few seconds, at the very least, just to catch my breath, and get my bearings. Everyone here was dressed to the nines, having gone just as all out as I had. Though, I hadn’t seen anybody else with a cape, yet. Julia had proven herself to be right once again - the risk of falling had been worth the reward of standing out.

I stopped by one of the tables, grabbing another glass of champagne. There were other drinks laid out, their colors varying from vibrant shades of pink to pale hues of teal, but in this instance, I decided it was best to stick to what I knew and recognized. It had been a while since I had drank in a party environment, and I wasn’t about to go wild in front of a bunch of, “notable individuals.” That Evalin had to stay back in Knoxville for now, at least, maybe even permanently, depending on how the remainder of the Selection went.

Being so close to the Elite had me a bit nervous. I had come so far; it would almost hurt to be sent home now. My relationship with Arin was solid - I was confident in that, at least - but that wasn’t to say that other girls had had similar experiences to mine with him. From the rumors Christina attempted to feed me while I was studying, he had grown close with both Jen and Clemence around the same time he and I had begun to grown close. Leana’s name was thrown around quite a bit as well. Still, together, we only made up four of the twelve remaining girls. There were eight others that he could have been more secretive in seeing.

It had been three weeks since Alaina and Saxon had been sent home. We were due for another elimination, soon.

It was then that I laid eyes on Reggie, watching the dancers in the center of the room from where she stood by one of the tables, sipping on a glass of champagne. It had been months since I’d last been able to have a solid conversation with her, when I had leant her my ecology book. We’d seen each other in passing, but these days,  all of us were so wrapped up in other exploits that it was rare to be able to get in more than a few words to each other.

Tonight, though, we had nothing but time. “Hello, Reggie!” I called out as I walked up to her. “How are you?”

Blinking a couple of times, as if I had just woken her from a stupor, she shifted her weight from one leg to the other and rolled her shoulders back. She smiled as she looked over at me, one corner of her mouth slightly higher than the other, giving me a short nod by way of greeting. “Evalin. Ça va?” Evalin. How are you.

“Ça va bien,” I answered, blinking a few times as I wracked my brain to remember the French I had continued studying on the side. I am well. It had definitely taken a backseat these past few weeks, though. Coming to a stop besides Reggie, I gestured out towards the party, fighting to find the right words through the mild haze of alcohol beginning to take a hold on me. “Um, aimez-vous cela?” Are you enjoying this? At least, that was what I hoped I had asked her.

Reggie opened her mouth, and I braced myself to receive corrections on my grammar or pronunciation. I deserved it, honestly, for not giving the language the attention it deserved, but Reggie stopped herself, smiling and shaking her head before taking another sip of champagne. “I’m enjoying myself, thank you. So are you, it seems,” she finished, raising an eyebrow at me.

“A bit,” I laughed, still a little breathless and flushed from dancing. “You look amazing, by the way! I love your dress!”

“Can’t take the credit for it.” She looked down at her dress briefly before meeting my gaze again, offering me a close lipped smile. Her face lit up every time she smiled, though I wasn’t sure she realized it. It was a good look on her.

She frowned as she took in my own ensemble, though. “There’s a cape.”

“I know!” I giggled a bit, grinning from ear to ear. “I thought the cape would be a recipe for disaster at first, but it’s been fine so far.” I hadn’t tripped over it yet, and nobody had stepped on it while we were dancing, either. It was nothing short of a miracle, though in this room, right now, it truly felt like anything could happen. I’d never felt such a sense of magic in the air, even in those happy moments with Arin on the floor of the theater. That had been magical, but in a different sense of the word.

I hoped we’d be able to recreate some of that magic again tonight. It had been so long since I’d last seen him, since he’d complimented me, and shown me that he did care about me, even if it wasn’t love yet. It was something, as he would say, and I was willing to take it from there.

I took another sip of champagne. “So, have you left the side of the room at all yet?”

“I have,” she answered with a solemn nod. “I went to the bathroom.”

I was really glad I had swallowed my champagne before she had answered. The laughter now emitting from my body had already nearly caused me to double over, and might have caused the champagne to come out of my nose. I couldn’t decide whether or not that’d be worse than getting another nosebleed.

When I straightened back up, Reggie was looking at me, her eyes almost imperceptibly wider than usual. “Oh, I haven’t danced yet, if that’s what you meant.”

I turned my head towards her, offering her a smile. “Why not?” She was an absolutely gorgeous girl, and there were plenty of eligible men here looking for a dance partner. She’d have no trouble getting someone to dance with her, if she tried.

“I don’t think I’d make a good impression if I’d attempt it,” she admitted, taking another sip of champagne as she inclined her head towards some officials, and the visiting royalty from Germany and Italy.

“You can’t be as bad as me.” I’d always had two left feet. I still sort of did, though the lessons here had definitely helped a bit, as I’d noticed earlier. I shook my head a little, still smiling as I continued, “Besides, I think everyone is too caught up in their own dancing and chatting to notice one or two uncoordinated people.” At least, I sure hoped so. That was one of the mantras I kept repeating in my head as I danced. That, and that the earlier dances were a warmup, so I wouldn’t step on the feet of the people who mattered later. I wasn’t entirely sure that the theory behind the latter statement would hold up, but it was a nice thought, at least.

Reggie bit her lip. “I’ll take it into consideration.” Then, pursing her lips, she glanced at me out of the corner of her eyes. “Any hopes for a dance partner for the evening?”

I felt my face grow ever redder, and averted my gaze to the floor, hoping Reggie wouldn’t notice. “I was planning on asking Arin, later, maybe, but I’m not sure. I might make too much of a fool of myself, in that scenario.” The last part was more or less a mumble let out under my breath. Arin was one of the only people here I actually wanted to dance with, if I was being completely honest. I had missed talking to him these past few weeks - even bickering with him. I might be eternally confused by the way he made me feel, but there was no denying that it was nice to have his attention every once and awhile, and it had definitely been a while.

I looked up at Reggie again, realizing that her name hadn’t come up often in Christina’s gossip. That was odd, considering that if any of the girls here were ready to run a country, and do it well, it would be Reggie. There was no question in my mind. So, why was Arin avoiding her, then? Or, was she avoiding him?

“What about you?” I asked, hoping her answer might reveal something.

I could’ve sworn I saw her cheeks turn pink as the question left my mouth, but I supposed I must’ve been mistaken, because she simply inclined her head towards me and asked, “You’re not sure?”

My blush deepened, if that was even possible at this point. I was likely redder than a tomato. “I would probably accidentally step on his feet,” I mumbled.

“Yes,” she replied, an amused smile flickering across her face. “that would be quite unfortunate.”

Indeed. Thanks for the reassurance, Reggie!

When I looked over at her again, she was frowning. “Are you alright?”

I furrowed my brows. “Yeah, why?” Had I voiced my thoughts aloud? I hoped not. They hadn’t exactly been the nicest words to ever have crossed through my mind. It wasn’t Reggie’s fault that I couldn’t dance, though, and I shouldn’t take my own frustrations out on her. She had done nothing to deserve that.

“Never mind.” She shook her head, turning her attention back to the people dancing in the center of the room. They spun around each other, a mass of couples smiling and laughing, just enjoying the night. That could be you and Arin, if you just sucked up your pride and asked him. I wasn’t nervous that he’d say no, but rather that he’d say yes, and then be miserable the entire time. Neither the guests, nor the cameras lining the wall, needed to bear witness to that.

“With formal dancing, you can follow Arin’s lead, I’m sure,” Reggie instructed, glancing over at me briefly with a smile on her face. “It’s usually best not to look at your feet, however, even if it’s tempting.”

“Right.” Maybe that was what I had been doing wrong. Looking at my feet had seemed like the easiest way to prevent myself from stepping on my partners feet. I flashed Reggie a small, close lipped smile, before turning back to the crowd before us. “I’ve truly never seen anything like this. It’s incredible.”

“Very,” she replied, nodding and smiling as she continued to watch the sea of people in the center of the room. The crowd seemed to be growing larger with each passing second, more couples leaving their tables and refreshments to join the fray. “I admit I haven't celebrated Illéan Independence Day in any way close to this either.”

I laughed, shaking my head. That was quite the understatement. “Me neither. We’d normally just have a barbecue, and maybe invite the neighbors and some friends over.” I turned my head to the side, looking at Reggie again. For someone who didn’t want to dance, she was utterly entranced by the people who were dancing. “Other than this -” I gestured towards the mob of people on the floor “- how have things been? I really haven’t had the chance to talk to you since we met in the library!”

“We haven't.” It seemed like she had just come to the realization herself, judging by her frown, and the shake of her head.  “I suppose things have been -” she smiled again, gesturing towards me “- busy, for both of us then. I'm sorry I still haven't returned your book. I almost finished it though.”

“Oh, no worries! I’m in no rush to get it back!” I assured her, smiling as I turned back to the crowd. The idea of a book club that had first popped into my head when I had met her came back again, except this time it included not only me and Reggie, but also Arin. Maybe Jen, too, since it would make sense that she liked to read, given the amount of reading she’d have to do for law school. I liked the image of the four of us, cozied up around a table, books in hand, just reading, completely at peace.

If only we had the time.

“There’s been so much going on recently, I’d honestly forgotten about it,” I mused.

She dragged her attention away from the dancers, raising an eyebrow at me. “I presume it wasn't just the French keeping you busy?”

I had to laugh. “Clearly not, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.” Then, with a shake of my head, I continued, “No, I’ve been doing other work in preparation for online classes, and then we had the proposal, and of course meeting and talking to people.” It had been a crazy couple of months, a whirlwind of activity sprinkled with flakes of fun.

With a nod, Reggie replied, “Online classes are definitely time consuming. Were you happy with how your project worked out?”

“For the most part, yes. What about you?” The truth of the matter was that I was pleased with my proposal, but I wished I had had more information for the logistics of how it might be implemented. I hoped that even if I didn’t end up being involved in politics when this was all said and done, somebody would still at least consider putting my proposal to use. There were so many brilliant people in lower castes, that deserved a shot at a career they’d excel in.

“I am, actually,” Reggie answered with an absent minded smile. “Hopefully they'll assign us another one -” she paused to take another sip of champagne, raising her shoulder slightly “-while I'm still here, of course.”

While she was still here? It almost sounded like she expected to be sent home soon. I couldn’t imagine being in the palace without Reggie. Even though we didn’t talk frequently, it was always nice to see her around, and she was such a constant presence at meals, and in lessons. Who else was going to ridicule me for missing breakfast to run, or using too many exclamation points while texting? There’d be a hole if she was gone, that I was sure I wouldn’t be the only one to feel.

We’d all grown kind of close lately. There were very few girls left that I hadn’t spoken with privately - just Nemesis, Brooke, and Tavi. I felt rather attached to all of them. If only there was some way that we could all stay here, even though only one of us could win Arin’s heart.

I hoped with every fiber of my being that I’d be the one to do just that. I got happy just thinking about talking to him. It was completely irrational and illogical, and went against all reason, but I couldn’t control the way that I felt. Yes, Arin was frustrating, confusing, a tad prickly, and easily upset. He had his flaws - we all did - but he was also caring, willing to listen, and, quite simply, kind. He didn’t push others to do what was too uncomfortable for them to bear, but was willing to help them if they wanted to push themselves out of their usual comfort zones. It was difficult not to want to love a man like that.

I hoped he knew I thought that of him.

I took another sip of champagne at the thought of anybody being sent home soon. “That’d be lovely. There’s so much more I’d like to do, and yet I get the sense that my days here are numbered.” I sighed, looking over the crowd. Much like Reggie, I had considered my own fragile position in this competition. While I felt like there was definitely something between Arin and I, I couldn’t deny that his advisors would probably push some of the other girls over me. What did I really have to bring to the table, after all, besides the ability to speak Swendish, and some killer organizational skills? I may have strong feelings for Arin, but that didn’t necessarily make me worthy of being the queen of a nation. That would take a different kind of person; one with more confidence, poise, and political savvy than I possessed.

So I had begun coming up with background plans. I was a biologist. It was near impossible to imagine my life outside of the Selection without the subject I had been passionate about for nearly all of my almost twenty-one years at this point. If Proctor was going to prevent me from working in labs or research centers in Illéa, then I’d set my sights across the ocean, in the country of my grandparents. Swendway. I’d submitted three transfer applications for the Spring of 2091 - one to the University of Stockholm, one to the University of Oslo, and one final one to the Arctic University of Tromsø. Nothing was set in stone. I likely wouldn’t even hear back from the universities until October or November, but it was still comforting to have a backup plan that wasn’t writing terrible travel brochures, just in case.

I hoped with all my heart that it wouldn’t come to that.

Reggie tilted her head to the side, frowning. “Care to elaborate?”

“It’s just with the recent eliminations, getting so close to the final ten,” I began, turning my head to look at Reggie again, “it’s starting to feel so much more real, you know? We’re not just flying under the radar, sliding through, anymore. We’ve got to be here still for a reason.”

“I'm aware, yes,” she responded, looking as if she was holding in a sigh, “though, I was under the impression you are still here for a reason.”

“Yes,” I began, nodding, “arguably the same reason we’re all here - to win. I just hadn’t expected to get this close. I’ve…” I trailed off, looking at her, trying to determine if she was annoyed by my carrying on. She simply maintained her same curious expression, however. “I’ve definitely learned a lot, just from being here, which I’m beyond grateful to have had the opportunity to do, but I’m not sure I’d be able to apply what I’ve learned to my old life, if I’m to go back to it.”

I wasn’t going back to Knoxville, to Proctor, to Lukas. I refused.

Pressing her lips together, she nodded, looking out over the crowd once more. “I think you will, if that's the case. Perhaps not directly in your lab work, yet these months hold experiences that go even further than work alone.” After a moment’s pause, she furrowed her brows, as if she was confused by her own words. Knowing that Reggie was just as much of a workaholic as I was, I couldn’t blame her. We were both the type to let out work and passions eat away at us until they consumed us whole, controlling out every waking thought and second of time. That wasn’t usually seen as a good thing, but a queen would need a strong work ethic, so I didn’t think it was an entirely terrible trait.

“Indeed. Do you ever think about it - what’s going to happen in the next few months?” I nodded as I took another sip of champagne. This was my third glass, counting the one I had toasted with my parents, and the one I had had at dinner. Maybe I needed to slow my roll. I was beginning to feel more pensive than usual, which was typical of me when I drank wine or champagne.

“I try, since I prefer to plan ahead. However all the things I had planned a couple months ago didn't go as expected either, so perhaps I shouldn't even attempt it.”

I nodded, understanding where she was coming from completely. “I feel the same way. There’s so many different paths this all could take, and there’s only so many occurrences I can plan for,” I finished with a nervous chuckle. Up until a few months ago, I had had my whole life planned out, at least in a vague manner. I was going to graduate college, get a job in a lab, researching potential cures for cancer, buy my own apartment, share said apartment with a dog and some small plants, meet the man of my dreams somewhere along the way, and start a family with him. Our children would watch the two of us grow old, seeing how much we loved each other, and knowing that we loved them just as much.

She raised an eyebrow at me, the corners of her lips twitching upwards ever so slightly. “And if you could plan it?”

That was a good question. There were two main paths my life could take from here. Either, I’d make it all the way, and end up becoming Arin’s wife, or I’d be sent packing at some point. Both paths had their own unique slough of interesting consequences. The former option would mean that I’d likely have to transfer to Angeles University and finish up my education there. I’d have to learn more about what being a princess, and eventually a queen, would entail. In addition, I’d likely also face some pressure to provide Arin with a heir. Hopefully I’d have a few years before people really started pestering me about that. I was just barely an adult myself - I wouldn’t know the first thing about caring for a child.

The latter option would entail first figuring out how to tell my parents that I would not be returning home, since I hadn’t even told them that I’d submitted transfer applications to Swendish universities. The only person I had even sort of confided that to had been Jen. Then, I’d have to get myself to Swendway, and likely find some living arrangements there, make some new friends and professional connections, and figure out how to move on with my life. Ideally, I’d like to still at least be friends with Arin, but I wasn’t entirely sure that’d be possible, at least not immediately. Even just the thought of him choosing someone else over me made my heart ache. I’d better get used to it, though, because statistically speaking, that was the more likely outcome.

Isn’t the prince of Swendway around your age? Maybe you could meet him and fall in love with him instead.

That’d be ironic, and highly unlikely.

I rolled my eyes at Reggie, flashing her a crooked smile. “Do you even have to ask?”

“I was simply not trying to presume anything, Evalin,” she answered, her voice betraying her amusement at the matter.

“Naturally,” I replied with a chuckle. “What if you could plan it - what would that look like?”

“I'd make use of the experience as much as possible, of course. Finish my studies,” she paused, straightening her spine, her voice alight with passion as she spoke, “and hopefully, come back, for a job.”

So her intention in coming here had been to open more doors for her professional life, then. I had to hand it to her, that was an incredibly well thought out plan, that had been an overwhelming success, if you asked me. “Hoping to be an advisor, then?” I asked, raising my eyebrows. Lord only knew that Arin, and likely his future wife, whoever she may be, would need as many of those as they could get.

I’ll give her the job for sure, if I win.

“Possibly.” She kept her tone casual as she looked out over the crowd. “Don't plan to apply for maid, at least.”

Had she just made a joke? I never thought I’d live to see the day! “I’d imagine,” I laughed out, lowering my voice before turning back to the crowd. “You’d be great at it, though. You truly are extremely knowledgeable, and think things over very logically, which is a useful skill.”

She lit up, a wide smile flickering across her face, before it faded back into her more common close-lipped smile. “Thank you.”

Smiling in return, I shook my head. “No need to thank me -” I elbowed her gently in the side “- thank yourself, and the hard work I’m sure you put into it.”

She blinked once as I pulled my elbow back to my side, a small smile playing on her lips as her eyes scanned the room again. They locked in on an important looking man in a suit, standing against the wall by himself. A government official of some sort, then? As I pondered who he might be, Reggie cleared her throat. “Speaking of which -” she pursed her lips “- Good luck tonight, Evalin. Remember to not look down at your feet; it won't help.”

I nodded. It was clear that regardless of who the guy across the room was, she wanted to talk to him. Time for me to return to dancing, then. “Yes, thank you.” With that, I began walking off into the crowd, finishing my glass of champagne and then looking over my shoulder at Reggie. “I’ll see you around, I hope?”

Nodding, she smiled. “Of course.”

I watched as she power walked across the room, impressed that she could do that in heels. My own feet were beginning to hurt, but I knew that I’d be able to ignore that as soon as I started dancing. Surprisingly, I had found that dancing was a lot like running. If I just focused on getting through the first few minutes, my body would go on autopilot, my mind emptying itself of all thoughts as I waltzed and reeled my way through song after song with partner after partner. Some of them were more interesting than others, and I made an effort to keep track of the names of the ones I rather enjoyed chatting and dancing with, but I was beginning to suspect that I wouldn’t remember many of them come morning.

Another song ended, and I curtsied to the man I had just finished up dancing with, laughing as I turned away, my cheeks aching with the size of my unfading smile. This night had truly been exactly the kind of break I had needed.

When I opened my eyes again as I finished laughing, I was greeted with the sight of a hand in front of me. I knew that hand. I had looked upon it often, as I sat on the floor of the Angeles Ballet’s theater, my head resting on his shoulder, and his head on mine. I felt my mouth form an o-shape, and I dragged my gaze upwards, only to be met with Arin’s smiling face.

I couldn’t tell whether my face felt hot from the champagne, or something else entirely.

“May I have this dance?”

Yes, sir. In fact, you can have all of my dances, if you want to.

I placed my hand in his, the same feeling of rightness I had felt that day in the theater washing over me like a wave. “Of course,” I answered with a smile.

He pulled me closer, leading me through the first few steps of the dance. My heart was beating so loudly in my ears that I almost couldn’t hear him as he asked. “How is your night so far?”

I could barely focus, being so close to him. All that champagne had been a bad idea. My walls were lowered, my inhibitions all but gone, and yet, I was kind of okay with it. I was vaguely aware of the fact that I had to be careful, though. I couldn’t kiss him, or anything of the sort, not with all the foreign dignitaries present. It was a damn shame. He looked pretty kissable tonight.

“Pretty good, I’d say,” I answered, already laughing as I planned my next joke. My head lifted upwards, my eyes meeting his as my laughter faded into an amused smile. He had such a nice face - nice to look at, and kind, at its very core. Although, I was pretty sure I only thought that second part because of the kindness he had been showing me, recently.“Warming up, so I don’t accidentally step on the feet of anybody important, you know? What about you?”

He just shrugged. “It hasn't been too bad- just a lot of making the rounds.”

The rounds? Did he mean with the Selected girls? Here I had been, thinking I was special.

Reminder: you really are a goddamned fool.

I didn’t think it was the increased jitteriness and nerves associated with sleep deprivation speaking, this time. Or maybe it was that, just in combination with a good bit of alcohol. Either way, I had questions, and I needed answers if I had any hope of sleeping tonight.

I raised an eyebrow at him, smirking a little. “Is that all this is to you, then?”

He blinked once, as if the question had caught him off guard. I couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t have expected it. It had been a few weeks since we had talked, and he had just admitted to making rounds at this party. My question was the product of a logical conclusion I had drawn.

“I was actually taking a break from that, which is why I came over.”

“Good answer.” My eyes were completely lost in his face - his eyes, his lips, the way he was looking at me - as I chuckled. I had to keep talking, if only to prevent myself from doing something I’d live to regret later. So, lowering my voice, I added, “I’d hate to be just another box to check off on your to-do list.”

Not a lie. I wanted to mean something to him. I wanted him to love me.

I couldn’t force him to do that, though.

“Do I make you feel that way?” he asked, curiosity glimmering in his eyes before he looked around us, and then spun me.

I waited until after I was back in front of him to answer, too focused on keeping my balance as I spun to trust myself to talk without falling flat on my ass. Sure, he had fallen in front of me, but not surrounded by foreign royalty and the prominent political figures of Illéa. I kept my voice low as I spoke, just loud enough so that he could still hear me over the music. “Generally, you just kind of make me confused,” I answered honestly, shrugging, and still smiling at him.

He took a deep breath, something about it almost shaky to me. That mustn't have been the answer he’d wanted. Oops. “I seem to get that a lot. I'm working on being more clear.”

“Yes, you’ve told me as much before,” I said, giving him what I hoped was a reassuring smile as I recalled the time we had talked over bourbon in the hallway outside of the library. I wanted to let him know that his efforts weren’t going unnoticed. I saw him trying harder. We were kind of similar in that sense - both more willing to listen to other people’s thoughts and feelings, than to share secrets of our own. It was something we’d have to remedy, if we planned on pursuing this relationship. From what I knew, which admittedly, wasn’t much, good communication was the key to a successful, long-lasting relationship, and right now, Arin and I weren’t there. I hoped that we would be one day, though, sooner rather than later.

“I appreciate it. I’m sure I don’t make it easy either, with my constant questions, and my own -” I paused, trying to find the right word, “- omission of details in most of my answers. I guess it’s something we both have to work on, in a way,” I finished with a shrug.

A small frown crept down his face. “Are you okay, Ev? You seem a little bit off tonight.”

“Ev,” I repeated, my smile softening, my eye drifting down towards the floor to my side. A nickname. He had a fricking nickname for me. Nobody outside of my own family had bothered to give me a pet name, ever. The significance of that one syllable wasn’t lost on me.

“Oh!” My eyes snapped up, focusing on Arin again. Right, he had asked a question! “Yes, I’m good! Really enjoying myself, actually!” This is the best I’ve felt in the past few weeks. All my exhaustion, all my worries, all my plans for the potential futures in front of me were gone, tossed out the window as I looked at him. The couples around us faded into nothingness in my mind, the music itself even dimming out in my ears, until it was just me and Arin, dancing, close together.

“Are you sure?” He smiled, the appearance of it somewhere in between reassuring and concerned. “We can talk about it if you like.”

I wasn’t sure, if I was being honest. I was tired, I was stressed, and I was probably a tad overworked, though that wasn’t really an uncommon combination for me. On top of school, I still didn’t know why my father had called me at two in the morning his time all those weeks ago, or what Lukas had meant when he said things were getting bad back home. I had decided to forego the credit for my biochemistry lab, so I’d have to figure out how I would make that up at some point. I wasn’t sure what Proctor was up to, and the fact that she had been so quiet set me on edge. Lastly, I was nervous about where Arin and I stood in terms of our relationship, if we could even call it that. I knew how I felt, but his feelings were still entirely a mystery to me. I was losing sleep over it all. Most nights, I just laid in my bed for five hours, managing to sleep for maybe half of that time, until I just gave up, and went for my morning run. It wasn’t sustainable. It might help to confide in someone, about it all.

Here was my chance.

My smile faltered. Part of me still wanted to just brush off his concern and say that everything was fine, because he was already stressed enough about his own workload and problems regarding the Selection and politics. I absolutely did not want to add to that. At the same time, though, I had told him multiple times that I would appreciate him being more clear and open with me, and I’d be a complete hypocrite if I didn’t do the same thing in return.

“I’ve just been lost in thought a lot, lately. I -” I shook my head, averting my gaze to the ground the moment I heard my voice crack. I wouldn’t break down. Not here, not now, not yet. “I’d like to be more open, I think, but is this really the time and place?” I looked up at him again, trying my best to smile. Please don’t worry about me. I don’t want to put that on you. “Tonight has been a lot of fun, and you should get to enjoy it too, without having to hear about my problems, that probably aren’t even as big as I think they are anyway.” I hesitated for a moment, wondering if it was worth it to assuage even one of my worries, before taking a chance and adding, “Though, if I could ask you one question, maybe?”

He blinked, that same look of surprise flashing across his face yet again. “Yeah, of course.”

He was going to live to regret that answer. He probably wouldn’t even answer my question - or, in classic Arin fashion, he’d give me a non-answer. Still, if it meant I could sleep a little easier tonight, it would be worth it.

Here goes nothing. “Okay, you asked me how you made me feel, and I gave you my honest answer, but -” I took a deep breath, the sound of it shaky, my shoulders trembling slightly as they rose and fell, and looked up again to meet his eyes “- how do you feel about this?”

“I'm still figuring out my feelings.” His voice was quieter now, the deep breath he took a mirror image of my own. It wasn’t exactly a non-answer, but it wasn’t much of an answer, either. It changed nothing. At least he had been honest, though.

“I'm sorry if that's not the answer you wanted.”

I narrowed my eyes, offering him a small smile as I shook my head. “The only answer I wanted was the truth. I’d rather know that, than you lie and tell me what you think I want to hear.”

“Have I ever done that to you - lied, I mean, about my feelings?” His throat bobbed as he swallowed, his eyes darting away for a moment.

This was not the conversation I had intended to have at all. Yet, I was glad we were able to finally be so candid with each other. It was a relief to get his full and real opinion, like the first, frantic breath of air after breaking through the surface of the ocean.

“I don’t think so,” I answered, shaking my head. “I mean, we talked in the hallway, after the roller skating date, and you said you basically wanted to send us all home, and then a few days later, we kissed in the library, which kind of sent out mixed signals, but -” I sighed a little “- I think that’s more on me overthinking than it is on you.” Sorry, for doing that with every interaction we have. I would’ve voiced my thoughts allowed as I looked up at him again, my smile soft, had I not remembered how often he asked me not to apologize. Hadn’t I told him I was working on that? I had to live up to my word, if I expected him to live up to his.

“Well, how do you feel now?” he asked, squeezing my hand gently.

My own gaze drifted down to our hands, clasped together like they were two halves of a whole, like they were meant to hold each other. I needed to stop seeing it like that. He clearly had feelings for other girls. It was best that I brace myself for the worst.

Yet, I couldn’t give up the hope that we might be meant to be.

“A bit better than before, now that we both know where we stand.”

He took a deep breath, holding it for a few moment, before releasing it and asking, “Tell me what you want?”

I narrowed my eyes. What did he mean by that? What did I want right then and there? To dance the night away with him, to laugh, to sneak out with him into someplace secluded, and maybe confuse his feelings a little more by stealing some kisses. Or did he mean the question more generally?

I decided the latter was more likely. “Just to get to know you - even as simply a friend! I -” I swallowed, trying to figure out what direction I should take this sentence in “- I’ve never had many, and I’d like that very much.”

I had more friends now than I had ever had before, and I was afraid I hadn’t been a very good friend to them in return. I’d been stubborn, quick to criticize, aloof, judgemental - everything a friend wasn’t supposed to be.

“Evalin, haven't we been friends?” His voice snapped me out of my thoughts. “I don't take people I don't like to the ballet or give them book recommendations, and I certainly wouldn't ask them to dance with me - unless they're so foreign head of state and I have to.”

Good to know I get the same treatment as a foreign head of state. How romantic.

How to explain myself? “No - I mean, yes, those are things friends would do - but -” my shoulders sagged, and I was unable to quite meet his eye “- I just feel like I don’t know anything about you, is all.”

Why had I said that? Fuck, I was really making a mess of what had been a nice night.

“And I know you’re working on it, and I get that, I just…” I shook my head, my eyes wide as I forced myself to offer him a smile. “Sorry, this isn’t coming out right, at all.”

“Well, what do you want to know?” He tilted his head to the side, his eyes on me, boring into me, like he was trying to read me like a book.

I mimicked his head movement as I considered his question. “Anything, I suppose. Details - I like little details. I’ll even make a trade - a detail for a detail.” Righting my head once again, I gave him a sheepish grin, though it was more genuine than my smile had been moments ago.

“Okay.” He nodded. “Then, ask.”

“Okay.” The question was, what to ask him? I stared at the wall over his shoulder, biting my lip a little as I did. The details I wanted were more personal, and not at all befitting of the time and place. Most embarrassing childhood memory? What would your ideal life look like? Tell me a story that shaped who you are today. “How do you take your coffee?”

I made a mental note to ask him to talk at some point in the upcoming weeks. We could be more open then, and ask less superficial questions, hopefully.

He paused. Then, “Usually I prefer tea, but if I have coffee I like it with a  bit of milk.”

“Any kind of tea, in particular?”

“Earl Grey,” he answered, raising his eyebrows at me.

I wrinkled my nose, laughing at his answer. At home, we referred to Earl Grey as, “the British dishwater tea.” Somehow, it felt like that fit with who he was, as a person.

“Interesting.” No, this isn’t. “So, um, I guess you get a question now, if you want.”

“What's your favorite ice cream flavor?” he asked with a soft smile.

“Strawberry,” I answered without hesitation. Perhaps I could make my answer a little less superficial by elaborating. That might be a good tactic! “There was this little ice cream shop in my mother’s hometown that we always used to go to when we visited my grandparents, that made the best strawberry ice cream I have ever had.” I shook my head, chuckling as I added, “Nothing quite compares.”

“Strawberry is okay.” He looked lost in thought, as if he was mulling over my choice of ice cream flavor. “I prefer chocolate though. Always chocolate.”

“Chocolate can be good. It’s a classic,” I conceded, nodding once, then laughing a little. “As long as you don’t say vanilla is your favorite flavor, we’re good in my book.”

“What's wrong with vanilla?” He narrowed his eyes slightly, furrowing his brows.

“It doesn’t taste like anything!” I wrinkled my nose at the memory of trying vanilla ice cream as a very young child. “It’s like eating ice!”

“I can't say I agree with you there. Vanilla is a good flavor. Just not the best.”

I hummed thoughtfully, shaking my head. With a grin, I replied, “This might be a dealbreaker.”

He shrugged. “Aren't you supposed to accept all flaws in a relationship?”

“I was taught never to compromise my morals in a relationship.” I shook my head, doing my best to keep my expression serious for the sake of the joke, but I couldn’t hold it for more than a few seconds. This conversation was ridiculous. I had to laugh.

He raised his eyebrows at me. “I think it's a mixed bag. Compromises have to be made.”

“Yes, of course,” I agreed, “but not all the time. People can be wrong sometimes.”

“Wrong?” He inclined his head to the side, looking at me with genuine curiosity.

“Yes.” Did he seriously not think that it was possible for some people to be incorrect? The thought was absurd! With a laugh, I continued. “Some things do have a right and a wrong answer, you know?”

“And what about right now? Is one of us right or wrong?”

What did he mean by that? I wasn’t sure if we were talking about ice cream at this point, or something more.Was one of us right or wrong about this relationship? If that was the case, I sure hoped I was right, but did that mean that he didn’t agree that we had something between us, if we disagreed on that?

Ignoring the fact that my head was spinning, I raised an eyebrow at him. “What do you think?”

“Honestly? I’m not even sure anymore?”

Oh, good. “I guess we’re confused together, then,” I announced with a laugh.

He wasn’t as amused as I was, apparently. With a frown, he nodded slowly, his eyes distant even as he looked at me. “I guess we are.”

“Is there something wrong with that?” I inclined my head to the side, frowning now as well.

“Indecision isn't exactly a great quality of a future leader.”

He was right.

The song began to wind down at that moment, and I just about thanked my lucky stars. If we kept going like this, I was either going to kiss him to shut him up, and to shut my own thoughts up, or say something that would get me kicked out of the Selection for sure. Or, worse than both of those options, I might cry. Nope. I needed to get out of here. I’d ask Arin if he could talk another time, when I was more sober, and he didn’t have to make rounds, and there were no foreign dignitaries surrounding us.

“Well, just because you don’t know the answer, doesn’t mean nobody does,” I offered, fixing him with one last smile. “You can ask others for help, input, or advice, you know?”

“About us?” He inclined his head for a moment, keeping his eyes on me even as he let go of my hand and took a few steps away. So, he had meant our relationship, then. Oh, God. He didn’t feel the same way about me that I felt about him, and now he was stepping away, because either he was trying to let me down slowly and gently, or because he just didn’t know what to say.  

I couldn’t breathe. I needed to get out of here.

“In general.” I forced a laugh, curtsying before beginning to back away. “Thank you for the dance, Arin.”

He just nodded. “Of course.”

“See you around!” I offered him one last smile and nod before scurrying off. Air. I needed air. When had it gotten so stuffy in here? I beelined for the doors to the garden, which I had heard had been decorated with lights for the guests. The cool night air would do me some good.

I grabbed another flute of champagne on my way out, downing half of it in one go. More mistakes, but if my days here were numbered more than I had thought they were, I was determined to enjoy my time here while it lasted.

I wasn’t sure where I was walking, but I didn’t really care. The cool night air felt good against my skin, and that was all that mattered to me. There weren’t many people out in the garden at the moment, and those that were walking around weren’t familiar to me. So, I took in the lights and decorations instead, just as intricate as their indoor counterparts. To think that this might be one of the last time I walked these paths…

No. I couldn’t let my mind wander down that path. For all I knew, I was just overthinking things again, and in my tipsy stupor, Arin had confused me, and I had confused him in turn. We really needed to work on our communication skills. I’d have to start asking him to clarify what he was trying to say when I couldn’t tell in the future. It didn’t matter if doing so made me sound unintelligent; he already knew that I was smart. He had called me as much before we had kissed in the library. Very smart. Stunning. Adorable. Plus, he had said he liked me.

We were going to be okay. I just had to breathe.

There was a person blocking the path in front of me. I squinted, trying to make out who it was in the dim lighting, based off of their silhouette alone.

Hugo.

It was nice to see a friendly face. Or, rather, to kind of see a friendly face, given the lighting.

I walked up to him, watching the way he just seemed to stare into the distance, looking at everything and nothing in particular, his hands in his pockets. “Stopping to smell the roses?” I asked, chuckling a little at my own joke.

He turned around, smiling softly as I came to a stop a few feet from him. “Oh, hi, Evalin. How are you tonight?”

“I’m really good, actually,” I lied, smiling as I attempted to keep the good spirits I had been in at the start of the ball alive. “How are you?”

He looked at the ground for a moment, his smile growing as he did. Someone must have made him very happy tonight, then. At least somebody here knew where they stood in a relationship.

“I'm doing really well, thanks,” he answered, glancing around. “What brings you out here?”

“The breeze,” I answered, moving to stand beside him, my attention caught by the yellow flowers that dotted the bush in front of us, “and the fresh air. I never thought a room here could feel so stuffy.” Wrinkling my nose, I looked up at him, a small smile playing at my lips.

“And this wasn't that stuffy at all,” he replied with a laugh, taking a deep breath.

I felt my eyes go wide as I considered his words. The crowds could get bigger than this? From the sounds of it, they very likely could, and often did. That didn’t necessarily seem like a bad thing to me, though. The only reason I had felt like I had needed the fresh air to begin with was because of my own thoughts, and Arin, muddling them up even further.

So I shook off my concern, taking a sip of champagne before turning to look at Hugo again. Speaking of Arin…

“Oh, while I have you here - I wanted to thank you, for, uh, encouraging -” there was a certain uptilt to my voice, like the verb I had used was the only thing I was questioning within the sentence “- me to ask Arin to take me to the ballet. We went, and it was amazing.” It really had been. I couldn’t figure out why I had even freaked out about the possibility of Arin not liking me, I realized, a smile creeping back onto my face. That entire night had been so lovely. There was no way something that wasn’t real could feel so right.

He tossed a smile in my direction, turning his head to look at me. “Did it? I'm really glad. I know he can be difficult sometimes, so I'm really glad he took you.”

Yeah, “difficult,” is one way to put it.

“You know, when you first suggested it, I thought it was crazy. I had to wonder if we were even talking about the same Arin, you know?” I snorted, shaking my head. “He’s complex.”

He raised his eyebrows at me, the movement so similar to what I had seen Arin do many times before, that it was hard for me to comprehend how I hadn’t realized they were related earlier on during my first meeting with Hugo. “Aren't we all?”

He was right. Even I had noticed how some of the traits that frustrated me the most about Arin were traits that I exhibited myself. I had likely been too quick to judge Arin, after our first few interactions.

“Arin's always been a bit -” Hugo paused, glancing off into the distance “- different, but there's some good there even if it's hard to see sometimes.”

Once again, Hugo was right, I realized, feeling my smile soften.“I think I see it, sometimes.” My voice was distant, even to my own ears, as I thought about the moments of kindness that still shone through to me - the way Arin always offered to listen, the way he never pushed me for details if I didn’t want to share, even the way he had literally pulled over the car to help me with my nosebleed. Had I offered him the same compassion in return? I wasn’t sure I had.

Turning back to Hugo, I concluded, “But you’re absolutely right. Complexity is what makes humans so human, for lack of a better word.”

He nodded in agreement, but his words contradicted the motion. “But sometimes simplicity is best - like the way those lights in the garden look, or how there's something so calming about night air.”

“That’s why science was always so appealing to me,” I admitted, glancing at him out of the corner of my eye. “There’s a right answer, and a wrong answer, with little room for interpretation, most of the time.”

“I like the in between - where there's no right or wrong. Where everything is open for interpretation.”

“Is that not more complex?” I furrowed my brows, turning my head to look at him once again. Did such a thing even exist? Sure, there were shades of grey in many conceptual arguments, but there was still a spectrum of right and wrong. It was what governed human morality, and the majority of our actions.

Hugo simply shrugged in response. “Not to me. It just feels right. Like that tree over there -” he pointed “- I don't need to know all the tiny details about how it works to see that it's beautiful.”

I tilted my head a bit, biting the inside of my cheek as I followed his finger to the tree he had mentioned, all the while considering his words. Had it not been for the one brain cell in my head still functioning properly, I might have started to explain xylem and phloem to him, and why they were important to the survival of the tree. That made more sense to me than the argument that the existence of the tree itself was just beautiful. Beauty was such a subjective thing. The tree wasn’t ugly, sure, but I wouldn’t have described it as beautiful, either. It was just a tree, plain and simple. Why complicate it, and assign it more adjectives?

“That makes sense,” I relented, though I still wasn’t entirely sure I agreed. “I guess just knowing the tiny details makes the big picture more interesting, to me.”

He looked down at me once more, offering me a small smile. “And that's fine. That's what makes you who you are.”

I blinked a couple of times, not prepared to handle talking with a Stanton or Schreave and being introspective at the same time. One often baffled me, and the other was something I actively tried to avoid. I was tipsy, sure, but not nearly enough to be having this conversation. Taking another sip of champagne, I nodded slowly, mustering up the courage to ask the only question on my mind at the moment. “Is my need to know everything really that obvious?” And is it as annoying as I imagine it to be?

His affirming nod made my stomach roll. “Yeah, but it isn't bad. It's just part of who you are.”

“Duly noted,” I replied, nodding and letting out a wry laugh before averting my gaze to the lights again. At least he was trying to make it seem like I was less nosy than I must seem. With a half smile, I went to ask my next question, the irony of me doing so not lost on me. “Any other facets of my personality I need to be made aware of?”

“Sweet, funny, has a nice laugh,” he answered, turning his head upwards, his eyes locking in on the stars.

“Oh.” I blushed at the compliment, finishing off the little bit of champagne I had left. I’d been expecting him to point out more areas of myself that I might improve upon, but I supposed what he had said was welcome as well. Maybe it was just the alcohol, but his voice began to mingle with Arin’s in my mind. Very smart. Sweet. Stunning. Funny. Adorable. Has a nice laugh.

I needed to focus on something else. I had come out here to get out of my head, not further into it.  

I followed his gaze upwards, taking in the stars, which were surprisingly easy to see, despite the fact that we were fairly close to a large metropolitan area. I had expected the light pollution levels to be higher. Nonetheless, I squinted at the stars, attempting to see if I could make out anything familiar. My grandfather had tried to teach my siblings and I how to use the stars as a method of navigation when we were younger, but it had never really stuck with me. I did, however, recognize one constellation, shaped like a lopsided box. “You can see Lyra really well tonight,” I observed, pointing it out.

“Which one is it?” he asked, squinting in the direction I was pointing. With a little laugh, he added, “Sorry, I haven't picked out constellations since I was a kid.”

“Don’t worry,” I reassured him with a laugh, “Lyra is the only one I really know, because it made me so angry as a kid.”

“It’s so stupid,” I complained to my father. “It’s a diagonal square. How is that a constellation?”

I pointed upwards towards the brightest star in the constellation, a ball of gas three times the size of our own sun. “That bright star is Vega, which is the bottom right corner. Then, connect the dots into a lopsided parallelogram -” I traced the shape in the sky with my index finger “- and voilà - Lyra.”

I felt his eyes on me as I drew the constellation in the air, watching him nod out of the corner of my eyes when he finally saw what I was pointing out. “Aha! There it is!”

“Yep!” I offered him another smile before looking back up at the lopsided parallelogram that had the audacity to call itself a constellation - and a lyre, at that! The homonym “liar,” was more fitting, in my opinion. “It’s a funny little thing.”

He glanced over at me again. “I'm impressed. Thanks for pointing it out to me.”

“No problem,” I replied, shaking my head. “As I said, though, my knowledge of constellations starts and ends there, so I can help you no further, I am afraid.”

At that, he laughed, the sound mingling with the crickets and the low voices of the other people in the gardens. “Well, that's better than my absolute lack of knowledge.”

“Is it, though?” I angled my head towards him a bit, a small smile playing at my lips. “Hear me out - if you know nothing, nobody questions you on it, because nobody expects you to have the answers, but if you know the bare minimum about a subject, people ask you questions as if you’re an expert, because they expect you to know all the answers, even if you don’t.”

Once again, he laughed, though I couldn’t quite figure out what about what I had just said warranted such a reaction. “Well, then it looks like I need to brush up on trivial facts so I can become an expert on everything.”

If only. I laughed. “It works until someone asks you an easy question that you would know, and you answer it incorrectly.”

“Didn't you say the bare minimum is enough to make you an expert?”

No, I hadn’t. At least, I didn’t think that I had. That hadn’t been what I was trying to say.

“It’s enough to make some people expect you to be an expert,” I explained again, frowning. “Sorry, I must’ve jumbled up my words when I spoke earlier.”

“Perhaps it's the champagne?” He laughed again. Maybe that was all he knew how to do, in these types of situations.

I laughed lightly, feeling some of the heat that had left my face return. “I’d like to think I’m not that much of a lightweight.”

“The bubbles can catch you off guard,” he offered by way of explanation.

I shot him a look out of the corner of my eyes, a joking smile on my face. “Speaking from experience?”

“This isn't my first ball,” he answered, chuckling. The thought of Hugo drunk, or even tipsy, was rather entertaining to me. It seemed like something most of the members of the royal family were somehow above, though I supposed it was impossible for someone to be completely immune to the effects of alcohol. They’d probably all been drunk or tipsy at some point. They were human, after all. Why did I have to keep reminding myself of that?

I nodded. “Of course. Fond memories?”

The smile that lit up his face was answer enough. “I always take away at least one good memory from a ball.”

“Any notable ones from tonight yet?” I asked, nodding once as I looked back up from the sky. It was a good philosophy, to always look for the silver lining. It was something I should try and do more often, if I was being honest with myself. It might spare me from some of the negativity I had been feeling as of late.

Hugo averted his gaze to the ground. “One or two.”

I smiled at him, genuinely happy, for his sake. He was a nice guy, and, much like everyone else present tonight, deserved to enjoy himself. “Good. I’m glad to hear you’re having a good time!”

“Are you having a good time?” he asked, looking back up at me.

Hadn’t I already answered this question at the beginning of our conversation?

“Yes,” I answered firmly. “This is the most I’ve danced, ever, I think, and I’ve only stepped on three peoples feet, which is a personal best, for me.”

“I'm glad to hear you're having fun,” he replied with a laugh. “I know these sorts of events can be a bit tricky sometimes.”

“Thank you. It’s -” my smile softened a bit, as I considered the manner in which I’d have spent this evening if I was back in Carolina, surrounded by my family, “- different, but not necessarily in a bad way.”

“It's all about who you dance with,” he stated, smiling. “According to my sister you should avoid Clarke Monroe at all costs, ‘no matter how cute he is’.” With a laugh, he answered my question before I could even ask it. “That's a direct quote.”

I chuckled. I hadn’t met his sister yet, but she sounded like a fun girl to be around, if that sort of statement was typical of her. “I haven’t bumped into Mr. Monroe yet, but I’ll keep an eye out,” I said, nodding once. Then, sighing, I looked around us one last time, my gaze lingering on the palace doors in the distance. I couldn’t spend the entire night out here, as nice as it might be.

Turning to Hugo, I  decided, “Speaking of which, I think I’m going to head back in.”

“I think I'll stay out here a little longer,” he replied, inclining his head a bit. Then, with a glance towards the palace and a smile, he amended, “Not too long, though.”

I couldn’t help but wonder who that smile might be for as I began to back away, meeting his smile with one of my own. “Well, if you find yourself in need of a dance partner, I promise to try my best not to step on your toes.”

He just laughed. “I just might take you up on that offer.”

“Well, you know where to find me if you do, but if you don’t, then enjoy the rest of the dance.” I waved one last time, before turning around and heading back inside.

True to my word, once I returned back inside, I danced until I couldn’t feel my feet at all anymore. Somewhere along the way, I had consumed another glass of champagne, though I swore up and down to myself that that would be my last one of the night. I didn’t want to accidentally fall asleep before midnight, when we’d throw the powder in the air. That was the part I had been looking forward to the most.

As another song ended, I made the decision to take a break and leave the dance floor. I was breathless, and knew I was red in the face as I chuckled to myself, drunk on happiness and joy, more so than just champagne. It was time for some water, and maybe some conversation. I scanned the room as I picked up the tiny plastic cup of water from the refreshment table, my eyes stopping when I spotted Clemence sitting by herself off to the side of the room, a plate of what looked like cake on the table in front of her. That seemed odd, for her, but I shook my concern off for the moment, deciding to approach her and at the very least say hello. I hadn’t seen her in ages.

“Hello!” I called as I got closer to where she was sitting, waving to her with the hand that was not holding my cup of water.

Clemence was using a fork to cut another bite of cake as I approached. Hearing my voice, she looked up, blinking once, as if she was seeing the ball, and the people dancing around her for the first time. She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Oh, hey, Evalin.”

Something was wrong.

I frowned, pulling out one of the chairs next to her, and taking a seat. Clemence had been there for me whenever I had needed her to be. She had been the definition of a good friend, and what had I been, besides an additional source of stress in her life?

It was time to repay the favor. “Is everything alright?”

“Fine enough,” she answered with a distracted bod, taking another bite and looking around as she chewed. She didn’t sound or look fine at all. Remembering what she had shared with me the first time we had spoken, I frowned, ready to sit with her the entire night, if that was what she needed.

Before I could say anything else, she asked, “Enjoying the ball?”

“Very much,” I answered, my frown deepening despite my positive feelings towards the majority of the night’s activities. “You?”

Clemence shrugged, the smile on her face clearly forced. “I’ve had better balls, to be honest.”

Yeah, okay, Clemence. Between her faked contentment with her current situation, whatever it was, and her uppity joke, it was impossible for me to not roll my eyes. I couldn’t help but feel sympathy for her, though. Hadn’t I been trying to cover up my own problems in front of everyone else I had talked tonight? We were all going through the wringer right now, it seemed.

So I offered her a small smile. “The closest I’ve ever come to a ball was high school prom,” I joked, shaking my head at the memory. At the time, it had seemed like the worst night of my life. I had begrudgingly agreed to go with a boy from my calculus class, despite the fact that I loathed his personality and sense of humor, just for the sake of having a date to take pictures with. He had insisted on my sitting with him and his friends instead of letting me sit with June, and had stepped on the hem of my dress multiple times when we had danced, staining the light green fabric brown by the end of the night. To top it all off, during dessert, he had spilled his coffee in my lap. Not exactly a night to be remembered fondly. Still, it was humorous in retrospect.

Clemence’s smile was more genuine now, as she tilted her head, a hint of curiosity glimmering in her eyes. “This must be quite the change.”

“It is.” I nodded, smiling as I looked over the crowd. I had never been in a situation like this, though as I had said earlier, that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Yet, I couldn’t help but wish things were as simple as they had been before this, before the Selection. “I toasted a glass of champagne with my parents’ beers over FaceTime while I was getting ready today. They’re barbecuing.”

Her answering laugh was choked, as if she wanted to laugh but couldn’t really bring herself to. It was sad, to see her so upset. Clemence was always so warm, welcoming; she always had some happiness to bring to others. What could have upset her like this? More importantly, what could I do to help?

“I almost forgot people out of here celebrated too,” she admitted.

I shook my head. “I think they’re celebrating having off from work more than anything else,” I admitted, but that was besides the point. I turned my head to look at Clemence again, half tempted to just reach over and grab her hand, and give it a reassuring squeeze, but I hesitated. I wasn’t sure she was the kind of person that liked the sense of touch when she was upset. What if I made her more uncomfortable?

“Are you sure you’re okay?” I tried again. “You know you can tell me anything, right?” You’ve helped me so much; please let me return the favor.

She only nodded, taking another bite of her cake. “I know, but it’s nothing to worry about. I’ll be better tomorrow.”

I raised an eyebrow at her, rather skeptical of the truth of that statement, but I didn’t press her for details. If she wanted to talk about it, she knew where to find me. Instead, I could try and cheer her up.

With a small smile, I asked, “Besides today, how have things been? It’s been so long since we last talked!”

She raised her eyebrows, her eyes scanning the crowded dance floor until they settled on their target. Arin. Interesting. Her smile softened as she looked at him.

Interesting, indeed.

“Wild,” she answered, “but not unwelcome.” Her eyes were glazed over, her mind clearly not in the room at the moment.

I grinned. It wasn’t easy knowing she, along with other girls, I was sure, was developing feelings for Arin as well, but when she looked at him, she looked more at peace than she had before. She deserved that bit of happiness. I had no control over who he chose in the end, after all. Besides, Clemence would make an amazing queen.

So, why was I so torn up inside about her liking him?

“Now, that’s a change of tune I never thought I’d hear from you,” I teased, nudging her a little with my elbow.

She blinked as she turned back to me, as if she had forgotten that I was sitting there. “He’s still an idiot,” she stated, though her fond smile betrayed how she truly felt about the matter.

My heart might have broken, had I let it. I couldn’t though. Not here, not now.

I nodded in agreement, chuckling. “He has one of the worst short term memory spans I’ve ever encountered.”

“I guess he has,” she agreed, turning away with a pensive look on her face.

“No,” I explained with a laugh, “I mean, he took me to see the Angeles Ballet, and afterwards he asked me what I wanted for dinner, and I said seafood, and he said okay, and then five minutes later when we got in the car, he asked me the same exact questions again.”

She let out a small laugh at the story, seeming genuinely interested in the conversation for the first time since we had started talking. “In his defense, the ballet probably turned his brain all mushy. What did you see?”

I was kind of surprised by her answer, considering her figure skating background, but I let it slide, laughing lightly. The fans of the ballet were few and far between, apparently. “Don Quixote,” I answered. “It was the best case scenario. Had it been anything else, he probably would’ve fallen asleep.”

“I would’ve slept too,” she admitted, smiling as she looked away once again. “I performed to Don Quixote, once.”

“Really?” How had I not know that? “That’s so cool!”

She looked downright melancholic when she responded. She must have really missed her figure skating career - that much was obvious, written all over her face.. Was that why she was so sad? Did being here somehow remind her of that? Did today’s date mean something to her, in terms of her career? It was the summer, though, so that last possibility didn’t make a ton of sense.

“It was at my first Olympics,” she explained. “Seems like a lifetime ago. I was a baby.”

“If you were a baby, then I must have been a fetus,” I joked.

“Thirteen is fetus age indeed,” she teased. “Barely an actual teenager.”

“And sixteen is definitely baby, age,” I agreed, nodding. “My younger brother is sixteen now, and the rest of us definitely have the urge to protect him at all costs.” I wondered what Randall was up to now. Was he looking at universities? Had he decided what he wanted to study yet? It had been so long since we’d talked, which was kind of sad. We’d grown close the past few years, being the last kids left at home.

“I was fifteen, actually.” She inclines her head towards the size, her eyes darker as she continued to think. “So I guess it’s newborn age?”

“Wait, when’s your birthday?” I could’ve sworn she was three years older than me. Maybe I was mistaken, though. I should definitely not have any more champagne. “I’m going to be twenty-one in almost exactly a month.”

“I’ll be twenty-three in November,” she answered, raising an eyebrow at me. “Arin isn’t the only one with memory issues, it seems.”

“Right,” I said, doing my best to ignore her jab at my memorization skills. Memorization was one of my strongest assets; I was just very much drunk right now. “Okay, you mentioned you were a sixty-seven baby, but not when in sixty-seven -“ I nodded “- but I’m going to place the blame on the champagne, just this once.” I tried to laugh off her earlier insult, which she had probably only meant as a joke, but I couldn’t shake it, especially now, knowing that she actually liked Arin.

“I also said I was still twenty-two,” she replied with a wink, “but, yeah, we’ll say it’s the champagne.”

I smiled a bit, shaking my head. I remembered her calling me a baby, and saying she had been born in sixty-seven, but not when her birthday was, or her age. Oh, well. “Sorry, I must have missed that.”

“Sure,” she responded, rolling her eyes. “Not memory loss at all.”

I grimaced, inhaling sharply. If she insulted my memory one more time, I was going to lose it, which was counterintuitive to the purpose I had come over here with. “If I have early onset memory loss, that’s going to be a big problem, because online classes just started recently.” A slight change in subject, but nothing so drastic that she’d think she’d bothered me. An ideal solution.

“Oh, already? Sorry, I’m more used to the German calendar.” She patted my hand. “But I’m sure you’ll do great. You were doing fine before summer break, right?”

I had been doing much better than “fine,” actually. I had made the dean's list every semester, had made close connections with most of my professors, had secured my internship, which was coveted amongst biology majors. I was on top of my game.

Humility is a virtue, Evalin.

“Yeah, but being online is kind of weird,” was the response I settled on as I wrinkled my nose. It was odd only having power points, with limited audio lectures, and only being able to ask questions via email. “I suppose it’s only temporary, though, because eventually I’ll either have to transfer, or go home.” And by that, I mean I’ll go and make a new home for myself somewhere else.

“This Selection starts being a long pause in our lives, doesn’t it?”

I bit my lip, shaking my head before turning to look at Clemence again. “I feel like it was more of a jump start, for me, at least. It was the kick out the door that I needed.”

That much was true. If I hadn’t been Selected, I likely never would have left Carolina. I wouldn’t know nearly as much about the world, or even just this country, as I did now, and I wouldn’t have made any of the connections that had forced me to open my eyes to the problems that existed in the current day.

I probably would’ve ended up with Lukas, out of convenience. I didn’t know where that realization had come from, but it didn’t sit well with me. Had I really been that ready to settle? Thank God I had been Selected.

Clemence only nodded.

My presence here was clearly doing nothing, except for putting me in a worse mood. With a sigh, I finished the last of my water, inclining my head slightly as I put the glass down, offering Clemence another smile. “I think I’m going to head back out and dance some more. Do you want to come?”

Her wince as she eyed the dance floor answered the question before she did. “No, I’ll stay here with my cake, but thank you.” She flashed me a right smile, one of her hands clutching her dress.

If she didn’t want to talk, that was fine, I couldn’t force her to, but she clearly wasn’t okay. I just wished there was something I could do, or say, to make her feel better. Maybe I should send Arin her way. She had looked happier when she looked at him. The heartbreak would be worth it, if it meant my friends were happy.

But what if he chooses me over her? Would she be happy for me then?

I was tempted to say yes, but I didn’t know for sure.

I needed to move.

“Alright,” I replied with a soft smile, pushing my chair in and beginning to scan the crowd for my next dance partner. I needed to forget about this conversation. “Well, don’t hesitate to wave me over if you need anything!”

“Thank you, but I have a waiter dedicated to me already,” she stated, pointing towards one of the waiters with a slightly amused smile. The message was clear. I don’t need you.

That was fine. I looked back at her over my shoulder, wiggling my eyebrows with a laugh. “Well, I won’t get in the way of that! I’ll see you around!”

With that, I began to walk away, spotting a man in a suit who appeared to be in need of a dance partner. I didn’t know who he was, and quite frankly, I didn’t care. I just needed to get out of here.

Clemence waved her hand in response, rolling her eyes with a little smile. “Don’t drink too much champagne! You have no idea how many diplomatic incidents could be avoided without it!”

“Don’t worry, I’m winning all the foreign dignitaries over with my grace, charm, and good looks,” I assured her sarcastically, adding in a wink for good measure.

She laughed. “Keep up with that good work, then.”

“I live to serve,” I joked with a small, mocking curtsy, before taking the opportunity to exit.

Clemence liked Arin. She had a familial background in politics and international relations. She was beloved by any Illéan who watched figure skating, and had a truly kind and compassionate heart.

I was so screwed.

That was a problem for another day.

I lost myself in the music again, paying only the bare minimal attention to my surroundings. I was pretty sure I had seen Arin dancing with Felicity at one point, but I didn’t care to confirm whether or not I had actually witnessed that. He was figuring out his feelings, still, with a lot of people, apparently. Me. Jen. Clemence. Felicity. Probably more, if I was being honest. He was entitled to that. I just needed to stop being a jealous bitch.

By eleven-thirty, I was running out of new people to dance with. I had already had a second dance with some of the guests, though not with Arin. I had lost track of him at some point in the past hour or so, but that might have been for the better. My fatigue was starting to get to me. I just needed to push through until midnight, when we’d get to throw the powder in the air. I wanted to be here for that.

Someone was heading my way. Idalia. It had been ages since I’d seen her - since she’d almost made me cry. I had almost forgotten about that.

She looked radiant tonight as she crossed the floor towards me, smiling widely. I had seen her here and there throughout the night, either talking with the Italians, or dancing with Wylan, but she’d never been alone when I had spotted her, so I’d never had the chance to say hello. Now, though, I waved, making my way to her as fast as I could in this dress and these heels, hugging her as soon as we had made it to each other. The one positive lesson I had learned from our last conversation was that she gave great hugs, and I could have used one right about then.

Pulling away, I smiled, holding her on the shoulders at an arm’s length. “Hello!”

Her eyes were a bit wide as she looked at me, but she smiled nonetheless. “How’s the night going?”

The night had had its ups and downs, especially by this point, but I didn’t miss a beat, giggling a bit for good measure. The champagne helped. “It’s been so much fun! How’s yours been?”

“Lovely,” she answered, raising an eyebrow at me. “How was dancing with Arin?”

Well, in Arin’s own words, it sure was something.

“It was good! It was nice to be able to talk to him, even if it was only for a few minutes.” I smiled, looking for him one last time in the crowd. I wasn’t sure why. Was I hoping he’d come back over to me, and offer me another dance? That was impractical. He was busy making rounds, after all.

I turned back to Idalia. “How was dancing with Wylan?” I asked, being sure to lower my voice as I wiggled my eyebrows at her.

“Why are you saying it like that?” She asked in response, looking around us, like anyone hearing that she danced with Wylan would accuse her of committing a crime. As if other Selected hadn’t been dancing with people other than Arin all night long. “It was just a dance.”

“Okay,” I practically sang, finishing with a laugh. “Whatever you say!”

“Evalin, stop it!” Her words were annoyed, but her tone betrayed her amusement.

“Sorry,” I replied with a laugh, “as your friend, it’s basically my job to tease you.”

Idalia just shook her head. “How much have you been drinking?”

Too much.

“Just enough,” I answered with a smirk.

She narrowed her eyes, like she didn’t quite believe me, and I couldn’t blame her. However, she didn’t push it. “Well, I do have some good news.”

Thank God one of us did.

I raised my eyebrows, my curiosity piqued. “Do tell!”

“Dancing with Arin was not terrible.”

He really is making the rounds.

“No, he was one of my favorite dance partners of the night.” I smiled, scanning the crowd for him once more. He had to be out there, but there was no way he was looking for me. At least, it wasn’t likely.

“Well,” she began, chucking, “I don't know if I would say it was my favorite, but it was good.”

I opened my mouth, about to ask her what she meant by that, but before I could, someone announced that midnight was getting closer. As soon as the announcement ended, Idalia stood up straighter, and turned to face me. “We should go pick a color!”

“Yes!” This was what I had stayed for! I grabbed Idalia’s hand, pulling her behind me as I made a beeline for the bags filled with shimmery powders. “I’ve been so excited for this part!”

“Let me guess, you're doing yellow?”

“Well,” I started, my tone a mix of sarcastic and mock-offended, “now that you said that, I think I’ll have to pick something else!”

She laughed, the sound barely audible over the music. “Hey, you can do whatever you want.”

“No, I know,” I reassured her, shrugging. “I’ll just see what catches my eye.”

“I heard some are shimmery!” She exclaimed excitedly, practically jumping up and down as we made our way closer.

Her enthusiasm was infectious, I had to admit, my own eyes going wide at her description. “That sounds so pretty!” We were like two kids in a candy store, given permission by out parents to buy whatever we wanted.

Her grin only grew as we finally reached the area where the bags were sitting, her eyes drinking in every color option, considering each choice with equal time. Despite my earlier protest, my eyes were immediately drawn to the yellows. They stood out to me, their vibrant hues like little rays of sunlight, brightening my day without any effort whatsoever. I tapped my index finger against my lip, trying to decide just which shade of yellow to grab. Should I go for a darker, richer, gold, as lavish as the decorations around me, or a lighter, pastel yellow, shimmery and bright with hope?

I stopped my debate to look at Idalia, whose eyes were darting between about three different bags. “Do you know why yellow is my favorite color?”

She perked up, dragging her eyes away from the neutral tones she had been considering. “Because it’s happy to look at?”

“Because of what it symbolizes,” I answered, offering Idalia a small smile. “According to color theory, yellow represents optimism, joy, hope, intellect, and loyalty - all things I think we could use a little more of in life.” All things I could use a little more of right now.

It’d be fine, I reassured myself, as soon as I got a restful night of sleep. There would be more of those in the future, now that the craziness surrounding the ball was over. I’d have a bit more time to sleep, to relax, to talk with Arin.

It seemed like no matter what I did tonight, my thoughts went back to him.

Idalia flashed me an amused smile. “Ah, color theory. My dad was always fascinated by color psychology even if it’s a very niche subfield. Talking about it with my mom around was always fun.” That sounded like it was in character for her parents, for what she had told me of them. They sounded like lovely people, who it would be interesting to speak with, should I ever have the opportunity.

“What’s your favorite color?” I smiled, raising an eyebrow at Idalia as I settled on a bag of yellow powder the color of daffodils - my favorite shade of yellow. It wasn’t as dark and powerful as gold, but wasn’t as soft and washed out as paler shades of yellow.

She made her way over to powder bags containing more shimmery tones, smiling as she looked down upon them. “It’s been a while since I’ve been asked that one. What’s your guess?”

Biting down on the inside of my cheek, I narrowed my eyes at her, as if I’d be able to see the answer on her face if looked heard enough. She wasn’t a red, or a blue - that much was for sure. Definitely a warmer color, but not yellow. That left one answer. “Based on color theory, I’m going to go with orange, because it represents warmth, fire, energy, and excitement, and you’re exemplary of all of those things.”

“Orange is at the top for sure,” she replied with a grin, picking up a bag of pearl white shimmery powder, flecked with pieces of fuscia and blue, “but if I really had to pick, I would say gold.”

Of course an Olympian athlete would say something along those lines. With a smile, I responded, “I can see that. I suppose your future Olympic gold will fit in well with the rest of your home decor when you have your own place to decorate, then.”

She laughed, dragging me by the wrist, away from the crowd of people trying to get powder for themselves as well. “I don’t know if I would go for gold decor but glad that’s where your mind is going. I’m a women of simple tastes.”

“I can also see that,” I admitted, humming thoughtfully to myself as she pulled me further into the room. “All I wanted in terms of decorations for my dream apartment was plants.”

“I haven’t even thought about moving out of my family’s home yet,” she admitted, her tone more amused than sad. That was good. I didn’t want Idalia to be sad. She was always so cheery and happy. I admired that about her.

“I thought I had a good two years, at least, until I left home,” I stated, absentmindedly smiling. I had imagined taking my college graduation photos on our front porch steps, side by side with June. I’d have been there for Randall’s high school graduation, and all of the events surrounding it. I could’ve even driven him home from his first college party, if he had stayed local as well, which I was pretty confident he would. My entire childhood was tied to that house, from the stairs I had tumbled down as a toddler, to the small bedroom where I had whispered my dreams into the dark, to the attic that contained a mystery that I’d likely never solve, now that I knew I wasn’t going back.

How long had I been zoned out for? I snapped back to the present, smiling wider at Idalia now, repeating what I’d told Clemence earlier tonight. “I’m glad this kicked me out the door a little earlier, though. I think I’ve learned more in these past few months than I ever have before.”

Her smile faltered, and she asked, “Is everything alright back home?”

The question caught me off guard. Without a real answer to give her, I sighed. “I think so? We FaceTimed today, and everyone looks well, but I did have an odd phone call with my father a few weeks ago.” I shook my head, looking down for a moment before meeting Idalia’s gaze again, this time forcing myself to smile. “I’m probably just overthinking it, don’t worry!”

She ignored my request, and frowned, definitely worrying. “Is he concerned for you?”

“He seemed like he was, but I was more concerned as to what he was doing in the lab at two in the morning.” I closed my eyes, shaking my head in a short, rapid motion at the memory of the phone call. When I reopened my eyes, I looked at Idalia, waving my hand through the air in a dismissive gesture. “Seriously, don’t worry about it though! That’s my job,” I finished, nudging her with my shoulder, hoping the playful gesture would ease her worries.  

She didn’t seem convinced, but luckily for me, the countdown to midnight started right then. We joined the crowd, practically squealing with excitement as we screamed along with the countdown, out voices lost in the cacophony of shouts around us. As soon as we hit the end of the countdown, I looked over at her, throwing most of my powder into the air, being sure to save a small amount in my bag. I looked up, watching the different colors descend back down upon us all like a tangible rainbow dissolving after. It was magical, in every sense of the word. I was beyond glad that I had stayed for this, instead of calling it a night early.

I turned to Idalia again, a mischevious grin spreading across my face as I reached for the remaining powder in my bad, flicking it towards her. She gasped in response, glaring at me as she flung her own remaining powder at my chest.

I could only laugh as I crumpled my now empty bag in my hands, shaking my head just to watch some of the powder drift down, out of my hair. “Thank you,” I began, turning to Idalia once more, “for keeping me company at this point, when I know there’s other people you probably would have loved to throw powder at.”

“I came to throw the powder with you because I wanted to!” She looked downright offended that I’d suggested otherwise.

“Well, thank you nonetheless.” I offered her the biggest smile I could muster, though it wasn’t much. I hugged her once more, waiting until I had pulled away to add, “I think I’m going to call it a night. I’m dead tired.”

“Alright,” she conceded, smiling back at me as she pulled away. “Do you need me to come along? I can come back right after.”

“Only if you want to. You by no means have to,” I answered with a shrug. Idalia was too nice to be true. How had I found such a good friend?

“I don’t know if I trust you to make it back,” she admitted, hooking her arm through mine. “I’ll take you back.”

We were silent the rest of the way back to my room, pausing only long enough for me to hug her goodnight before she turned back the way we had came. As soon as I was inside of my room, Julia, Christina, and Grace were all on their feet, rushing towards me to help me undress, to assist in removing my makeup and contact lenses, and, of course, to ask for more details about my night. I gave them as much as I could bear, watching their face light up when I had mentioned dancing with Arin, in particular. They knew just how hopeless I was, and I think they sort of loved me for it, somehow.

I frowned as I looked in the mirror, noticing just how covered in glitter I was. “Should I shower before getting into bed? I’d hate to make you have to wash glitter out of my sheets tomorrow, but I am exhausted.”

“I’m sure,” Julia said, crossing her arms once she had handed off my dress to Grace. “How much sleep did you get last night?”

I just shook my head, exhaling heavily through my nose. “Not much, but still, I can stay up the extra fifteen minutes it’d take me to shower. I’d hate to create more work for you.”

“Nonsense!” she scolded, ushering me towards my bed, going as far to pull back the sheets to make it easier for me to get in. “If you made any less work for us, we’d all be out of a job!”

“I just have one last thing to do, then,” I decided, sidestepping around her, and then walking towards my desk and pulling out a piece of paper. I had planned earlier on on writing Arin a note, to send tomorrow or later in the week, depending on my own schedule, and I’d be darned if I was going to forget to do it.

The note itself only took me a minute to write, though I didn’t pay close attention to my diction, or the legibility of my handwriting, too eager to get into bed to bother with that.

Arin,

Do you have any spare time to talk, this week, maybe? I’d like to clear the air. I’m genuinely very sorry if anything I said at the ball upset you - not that this is any excuse, but I had five glasses of champagne on maybe two and a half hours of sleep (if that), and didn’t stop to think about how bad of an idea that might be. Though, I think I was only three glasses of champagne in when I danced with you, but my point still stands. I had no intention of worrying you, and again, am truly sorry if I did.

I’d also like more details, if possible. I was a tad too afraid to ask deeper questions at the ball, what with all the people and cameras around. It didn’t feel like the right time or place for it.

Sincerely,

Evalin

P.S. - in case I wasn’t clear, I like your nickname for me.

Julia watched as I wrote, sighing as I stuck the note against the screen of my open laptop, to ensure that I’d see it tomorrow and remember to send it. “Now, bed,” she commanded as soon as I had finished.

Too tired to argue, I just smiled in response, slowly maneuvering myself under the covers as Grace and Christina crossed the bedroom, making their way to the door. As soon as they were out, Julia flicked the light switch, whispering, “Goodnight, Evalin,” before leaving the room herself, and shutting the door behind her.

Sleep took me instantly.

--

It was dark. From where I lay in the backseat of June’s car, the only light I could see came from the taillights of the car in front of us. I remembered seeing stars when we had arrived at the party, but I couldn't now. Her stupid car roof was in the way, too busy shielding us from the rain that wouldn’t stop hitting it to let us see the stars. Logically, I knew we wouldn’t have been able to see a lot of the stars anyway, with the rain clouds blocking them, but I would have liked to see some. I would have liked to see that stupid lopsided parallelogram that my grandfather loved so dearly.

I laughed. Everything was funny to me, especially the way that neither June nor Lukas found anything funny. “We’re going to have to stop for gas,” Lukas said from the passenger seat in the front, which was funny. We hadn’t driven far - only the twenty minutes to campus - and June had had more than enough gas on the way there. Where had her gas gone? Maybe it had grown legs and had walked away, and there was a big gasoline man walking through campus right now. That would be funny.

“Shit, really?” June asked through gritted teeth. I closed my eyes as she changed lanes, likely to pull into a gas station. I didn’t open them again until we had pulled up to a pump, the faded white and green coloring that I could see through the window letting me know that we must be at the twenty-four hour Gasoline Haven about fifteen minutes from my house.

Fuck. My house. My parents. “June, I can’t go home like this,” I groaned. I was so very, stupidly, foolishly drunk. How many shots had I taken? I’d lost count after eight. I doubted I’d remember this tomorrow. That was not funny. Why the fuck had I done this, and how was I still even alive?

“I know,” she reassured me, turning around in the driver's seat to face me as Lukas got out of the car, walking around to the gas pumps. “You can stay with me tonight, like you told your parents you were doing originally.”

I nodded, offering her a toothy grin as I pushed myself into a sitting position. “That’s why I love you.”

She smiled in return, opening her mouth like she was about to respond, only to be cut off my a sharp rap at the driver’s side window. She rolled it down, listening to Lukas as he yelled something, his voice completely drowned out by the rain, for me. “Fuck, okay,” June said, swearing more as she fumbled with her seatbelt, “I’ll go inside and pay.” With that, she exited the car, the annoying beeping noise signalling that she hadn’t closed her door all the way.

The sound of the rain got louder as her footsteps retreated, and the door to my left opened. I laughed as Lukas leaned into the car, bracing his forearms on the seat and smiling at me. I smiled right back, blinking slowly as I said, “Well, hello there.”

He said nothing. While my eyes were closed, he must’ve leaned forward, because the next thing I knew, his lips were on mine, strong and frantic, and all wrong. My eyes flew open, but all I could do was watch, and try to say something, anything, but my words were swallowed by his mouth. I was paralyzed, whether by fear or drunkenness, I didn’t know. I couldn’t lift my arms, to shove him away, and I couldn’t back away myself, not without opening the car door and allowing myself to tumble onto the wet pavement.

I stared at him in shock as he pulled away, instinctively attempting to bring my knees to my chest. I couldn’t unscramble my thoughts quickly enough to form a coherent sentence. Only one word rang through my mind. “Bad.”

“Why won’t you admit that you love me?” he asked, smirking, something sparkling in his eyes as he looked at me. I didn’t like it. I wanted him to go away. This was not funny.

I shook my head, trying my hardest to get the right words out of my mouth. “I don’t love you. I definitely don’t love what you just did.”

He raised his eyebrows, as if I had somehow challenged him, inviting him to rise to the occasion and prove me wrong. Except, I wasn’t wrong. I was never wrong. He was wrong. Something about him had always been wrong.

This was wrong.

“Would you like me to try something different?”

“No.” I shook my head again, but the gesture meant nothing to him, and he came in for another kiss. I tried to kick him away, but the motion seemed to do nothing. He was completely undeterred.

I heard footsteps splashing against the pavement as he pulled away. June’s voice cut through the noise of the rain. “What are you doing back there?” June would help me. June always helped me.

“Making sure she has her seatbelt on, now that she’s sitting up,” Lukas answered, reaching for the seatbelt as he spoke, slowly dragging his fingers diagonally across my chest as he made to fasten the buckle.

This couldn’t be happening. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. This wasn’t real. This couldn’t be real. Lukas would never.

“She said she wants to stay at my house tonight,” Lukas announced as he got back into the passenger seat of the car. I hadn’t said that. This was not funny in the slightest.

“No,” June told him, but I knew he mustn’t understand that word. Hadn’t I told him no? He had heard me, and had kissed me again anyway. Despite being blackout drunk, I knew with clear certainty that I was lucky it had stopped there, that June had come back just then. “She has to stay at my place, or her parents will worry, and we’ll all be busted. Besides, I’m the nursing major. I’ll handle this.”

All I could feel was the chill of the car window against my forehead. All I wanted to do was forget about this.

Maybe it was a good thing I was blackout drunk.

--

I awoke in a cold sweat, my mouth open as if I was screaming silently, my breathing rapid and shallow. Reaching for my phone, I clicked the power button, the time blinding me as the device flashed to life. Four o’clock. It looked like it would be yet another, almost sleepless night for me, then.

[ddaengyoonmin]

Chapter 6

Pairing: Jungkook x reader, Taehyung x reader, Jimin x reader  eventual Ot7 x reader in later chapters

Genre: fluff, angst, smut in later chapters

Theme: Based kinda on sword art online a lot of similar ideas and themes kinda combining the idea of them trapped in the game, but the world is closer to ALFheim online

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: Swearing, bed sharing (kind of?)

A/N: I just wanna get to the smut already lmao but it’s not quite organic if I do it now ya know? Anyways this chapter got a little angsty. Let me know what you think!!

Next -> chapter 7 

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You settled onto the floor on Jungkook’s side of the bed. He had gotten you a pillow and 2 soft blankets, one to lay on and one to cover yourself with.  It was decently comfortable, you couldn’t really complain as you had volunteered for this.  You could tell he was exhausted again as he settled in above you in bed.  He faced towards you and looked down, eyes landing on your face with a soft and soothing look on his.  “Sleep well” he muttered.  You smiled up at him “you too Jungkook”

He quickly fell into a heavy sleep and Taehyung’s light snoring implied he had as well.  You on the other hand, couldn’t quite sleep. Your eyes were shut, your mind was racing with worries and thoughts of what was to come.  How many days would you be stuck here?  How was your body out in the real world supposed to survive if you couldn’t eat or drink?  Did your mom cry?  Was she by your side even now? You wish that you could somehow let her know that you were safe falling asleep in a room with three friends, and that for the time being you weren’t in harm's way.

A click and a creak made you snap your eyes open, turning to the direction of the noise you saw a sliver of light and the door to your room swinging shut.  You sprung up and looked to the bed where Taehyung and Jungkook still slept.  ‘Odd’ You thought and quietly stood up and walked to Chimchim’s side of the bed to see that he was nowhere to be found.  Where would he be going off to alone in the night? Should you follow? You pondered.  You went back to your makeshift bed on the floor covering yourself again with the blanket, debating on if you should go see where Chimchim went off to.  You decided to leave him be, he probably couldn’t sleep and wanted to explore the inn, nothing to worry about, it was a safe place.  

It seemed about 30 minutes had passed and he hadn’t returned, your anxiety concerning his whereabouts had only grown as time ticked on.  You decided to get up to check on him, you knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep without making sure he was okay.  

Just as you placed your hand on the cool, metal handle of the door to exit the room and go after him, it was already opening.  “Oh shit!” Chimchim jumped back startled to see you standing at the door.  He then giggled cutely “You scared me y/n, whatcha doin’ ?”  

“Oh, I uh, saw you left and just wanted to make sure you were okay” you admitted

“Aww, y/n its so cute that you worry about me, I just went down to the front desk to chat with the innkeeper since I couldn’t sleep” He explained “I know she’s not real, but, you all were asleep and I needed some company”

That was definitely strange, you thought.  But then again he was a strange man.  “So she actually can have conversations?” You inquired, “I figured she could only say what's on her script or whatnot”

Chimchim shifted uncomfortably, almost as if having to think of what to say next.  “Uh, yeah, she didn’t really say anything back.  I-I just needed to talk for a while, so” He put a hand to his head “Wow, I don’t feel well, I’m gonna go sleep now”

Okay, he was definitely lying, about part of it, or all of it, you couldn’t tell.  

“Chimchim?”

“Y/n?” he replied with his head cutely turning to the side in an adorable manner.

“You can be honest with me you know?”

He pushed past you through the door, and leaned in close to your ear, his cat ears flattening against his head “Okay. Honestly? You should ditch these guys and just stick with me” his tone contrasted starkly to any previous words you’ve heard come out of his mouth. He pulled back and you could see his face had also shifted into an serious expression.

Your jaw dropped “Chimchim I can’t..”

He cut you off “Jimin, my name is Jimin”

“Okay, Jimin. I’m not going to leave them, Jungkook has helped me since the moment I got here, I trust him and he knows a lot about this game, I think it’s in all of our best interests to stick with him”

Jimin stayed in his shockingly new way of behavior for a second longer.  “Fine.” He snapped. “You know, I’m not dumb.  They don’t like me, and they would toss me aside in a second if it meant their own safety, I don’t really trust them.”  He muttered.  Shoving his way past you to go back to his side of the bed, leaving you on your own.  

What the hell just happened.  Talk about a split personality…

You returned to your bed, only to be startled just a few minutes later by Jimin dragging his pillow and blanket from Taehyung's side of the bed over to yours.

“What are you doing?!” You whispered harshly at the cat man.  He shrugged with a smirk and continued to line up his blankets and pillow directly next to yours.

He laid down and turned to face you, the bubbly and innocent Chimchim personality returning to his face.  “I get lonely” He whined softly, grabbing one of your hands with both of his, closing his eyes and falling into a deep sleep.  

A small part of you started to question inviting him to join your team, this back and forth between his two personalities you were now going to call ‘Chimchim’ and ‘Jimin’ was going to be exhausting if he kept this up.  And on top of that, what the hell was up with him wanting to leave with you,  just that day he had almost died, it’s not like you could protect him if it was only the two of you.  

You finally let your mind calm down and allowed yourself to fall into a deep sleep.  

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When you opened your eyes to the bright light of the day, your three traveling companions were already up, and arguing loudly.

“I should kick you to the streets right now! What gives you the right...” Taehyung was furiously spewing at Chimchim, who was sitting in one of the chairs in the room, head hung low as he was scolded. Jungkook and Taehyung stood commandingly over him.

“We said you could join, we said we’d help you. You WILL follow our orders if you want to stay with us” Jungkook boldly shot out.

You heard Jimin scoff and could see him rolling his eyes as he lifted his head to face Jungkook, flicking his head to the side to brush his bangs away from his face, so his eyes were clear to make direct eye contact with Jungkook.

“You really think that she wouldn’t follow me if you made me leave? Even if she stayed, If you forced me out of the group she’d hate you for it.” He smiled a cocky smile.

Taehyung's fists clenched, so close to deciding on bringing his knuckles to Jimin's jaw.

You sat up and made your presence known, so as to prevent any further bickering between the three of them.  

“Y/N” Chimchim shot out in a sweet voice “Hey beautiful, good to see you awake” He chimed

Jungkook and Taehyung shot him dirty looks then turned to look to you.  “Hey y/n, sorry if we woke you up” Jungkook spoke softly

“Its fine, what is this all about?” You questioned

Taehyung answered with an annoyed look on his face “I woke up to find Chimchim here missing from my side of the bed and curled up closely next to you” looking to Jimin, he added “Like I’d already told him NOT to”

Jimin shrugged “y/n knew, she said it was fine” he announced

Your eyes widened as looks of shock grew on Jungkook and Tae’s faces

“It wasn’t quite...I didn’t exactly say...he just kinda did...and I guess yeah I let him” You looked down in embarrassment.

Jungkooks expression fell, it seemed to you like he was hurt by this.  “Oh…Do you…” he started “Nevermind, I guess if you wanted to sleep next to him, you can do whatever you want” He finished with a hint of anger in his voice.

Taehyung however didn’t have a hint of anger, more like a wave of anger in his voice “Really? Not even a day of meeting him and you’re going to cuddle up next to this fucking weirdo stranger?”

“If you remember correctly, I’d only known you a day when I fell asleep on your shoulder, I don’t see how that’s any different, If you’re trying to accuse me of being a slut or something!” You spat out, not being able to control your irritation at the childish moodiness these boys were currently exhibiting.  You all had bigger and drastically more important things to worry about, and all they could concern themselves with was who you were close to last night.

Jungkooks expression dropped even more at the knowledge you had just shared.  You felt guilty, realizing he didn’t know that you and Taehyung had engaged in that late night conversation the first night.  When you had all been rudely awakened by Jimin's screams the morning before, Jungkook must’ve shot out of the cave so fast he didn’t look to see that you and Taehyung were cuddled up against each other while you slept.

You groaned and covered your face with a pillow.  “Lets just go please” You grumbled into it.

“Yeah.” Jungkook breathed coldly “I’m ready to go fight something”

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In the center of the town there was a large wooden bulletin board.  On it were a series of papers pinned that read different quests that you could take for the area around the town.  Some large and some small, each with different rewards listed.  Jungkook explained if you rip one down it will dissolve and a new page will open up in the menu section of your screen called ‘quests’ and the chosen mission will be added to a list on that page.

 You can have up to 5 quests selected at one time, it was limited to prevent one player from hoarding all of the good quests in his quest bank.  If the player who selected a new mission is joined in a party with other players, as you Taehyung, Jungkook and Jimin were, the quest would show up on everyone’s page and the experience and coin reward for succeeding would be split equally, but any drop items achieved from taking out beasts or other enemies during the quest would be given to whichever player achieved the final kill.  

Jungkook suggested taking 5 different quests with a high experience and coin reward for completing, that he was confident you would all be able to complete together within the day.

The four of you spent the day not to far out from the town, not discussing anything besides quest strategies and game play.

The whole time you felt that this morning’s conversation had put some distance between you and Jungkook. He was extremely short with you whenever he instructed you do something.  Taehyung on the other hand was overly clingy, telling you “Great job!” with a huge smile every time you did even the smallest thing.  Jimin was trying his best to follow any orders that he was given. Despite his cockiness in the morning, he seemed to not want to create another explosive argument that could get him sent out of the group.  Occasionally running to give you a hug after he did well, only to quickly recoil and look to Taehyung as if he had already felt him tug his body off of you.  

When you returned to town you had all accumulated a significant amount of coins and loot.  One of your favorite things you acquired was a glittering crystal wand that shot out whatever spell you were casting in an increased power.  Jungkook had picked up a large silver shield that could block any type of spell or attack up to a certain level, and Taehyung had found a pair of white boots that would increase his running speed.  Jimin had mostly hung back, offering up any loot he found to the rest of the group, you took this as him sucking up and trying to get back on good terms with the other boys.

Reaching the inn you noticed that there were more people in the town now.  Not enough for it to be crowded in any way, but there were at least 4 other groups of players hanging out in the lobby of the inn, and a few waiting in line to check in.  

Jungkook suggested you all go and get some rest while he stayed and talked with some of the other players to get some info on what they’d seen or any experiences that might be helpful for you all to know.

You did as he said.  Wandering into your shared bedroom that you had renewed your rental of upon arriving back.

When Jungkook returned he had a serious expression placed on his face.  “Okay, group meeting.”