#just kills me that I was literally good for nothing else but piano

[gummy-sharks666]

Someday I’m going to relearn all those piano pieces I was forced to stress over and memorize to a T for recitals and competitions and anytime people came over and my parents wanted to show off for ME and no one else. Being told that piano was my “gift” and “purpose” and I was never supposed to take a break from it or do activities outside of it or else I would be squandering my “gift from god”, and being treated like a fucking show pony absolutely RUINED piano for me. After I had my near complete breakdown and quit with the piano teacher I was with I couldn’t even touch the keyboard without the fear of being watched or recorded or used as a bragging rite. I was only good for one thing and nothing else. Anytime I watch my recital videos back I can HEAR the sheer amount of anxiety that riddled my playing. Someday I want to relearn those pieces without all the stress, without the crushing feeling that this is my only worth.

[shadowqueenjude]

Azris one shot

Lmfaooooo this was inspired by the roleplaying I did with @futureautumnhighlord @the-moon-on-a-string @shadowbabiesdaddy @that-spring-court-blond We basically kept reblogging each other's shit and it turned into smut so part 2 is going to be completely smut. 😭

Azriel’s arms wrapped around Eris from behind him as he snarled at Tamlin. “Stay away from Eris, Tamlin, or else…” Tamlin bared his teeth. His hair had shapeshifted to a night-black, quite like Rhysand’s and Azriel’s. He was a far-cry from the male he had been before Feyre had left him. “What are you going to do, shadowsinger? I’m a High Lord, and the male you’re holding is a High Lord’s heir. What’s an Illyrian ilk compared to that power?” Azriel chuckled darkly. “Oh, I can do a lot of things.” His shadows delivered them to a place far far away from the Spring Court forests. Accustomed to this travel, Eris kept his eyes wide open as Azriel winnowed them to the Autumn Court. Well, not winnowed, exactly. The shadowsinger method of travel was slightly different from winnowing; nobody knew exactly how it worked, but it was mentioned in old myths that those born of the death god could quite literally melt into shadows and reappear anywhere in the world as long as a shadow existed. The shadowsinger abilities appeared to be something like that.

Indeed, the shadowsinger willed them to appear underneath a tall oak near the Autumn Court forest in his backyard. Eris smirked ever so slightly as he turned back to look at Azriel. “Why’d you take me away, little bat?” The word little was hilarious here. Both males were of almost equal height, though Azriel was a wee bit broader than Eris due to his Illyrian heritage. Much as he denied that heritage (to the delight of Eris), it was still present in his complexion and build. His hands were a broad tan compared to the long pale hands of Eris, far better fit for playing piano than for fighting on a battlefield. Yet Eris was the general of the Autumn Court armies and had plenty of battle experience of his own; it just didn’t define him like it defined Illyrians. “What the hell were you doing in Tamlin’s territory?” Azriel said quietly; his voice barely hid the simmering rage beneath.

Eris laughed. It was hilarious how the male acted as if they were in a committed relationship. By no means were they in any such relationship; Eris was newly engaged to Cresseida of the Summer Court, and they were to be married within the next two weeks. True, their marriage was that of convenience, which left both of them to free to fuck whoever they want (including each other periodically). But that just proved Eris’s point: he was loyal to nothing and no one but himself and the crown he wanted so damn badly. Eris had made no promises to Azriel. Yet the jealousy simmering off of the Illyrian brute was such a strong stench it overwhelmed all of Eris’s senses.

“I was going to help him fulfill the Calanmai rite,” he said smoothly. “Tamlin was going to shapeshift into a female and our culmination would’ve under ideal conditions, magicked the Spring Court back to normal.” Though it was unlikely that would even work at this point, it would be worth it to try. At least to keep Beron away from Spring should his plan work. Of course, Eris didn’t need a reason to have sex with whoever he pleased. Azriel clenched his fists before pulling out his blade, Truth-Teller. “What, I’m not good enough for you?” Eris truly laughed then, leaning forward so that their noses almost brushed against each other. “You are nothing but my lover, little bat. I did not commit to anything with you, like it or not.” Azriel’s eyes simmered with dark rage that made Eris’s instincts stand up. “Is that how you’re going to play it?”

Eris smirked. “You’ve finally caught on. This is just a game, you and I. You couldn’t possibly believe I’d ever want to be with the male who killed and tortured my soldiers. Or lusted after my brother’s mate,” he added with more bite to his voice. Real anger flooded through him now. “Why would I want to be with the male who pined for my mate for nearly 500 years?” “Your mate?” Azriel gaped like a fish for a moment before the rage returned to his face. “And why would I ever want to be with the male who left the female I pined for for 500 years in her terrible state at your own border?” “I thought you were smarter than the bastard, shadowsinger,” Eris sneered. “Surely you know now that what I did was a mercy, not a spiteful act.” “It’s hard to know when everything is a game to you.” “When I play the game, it’s fun, Azriel. Females being brutally tortured is not my idea of fun. Or have you forgotten about my mother?” Azriel snarled in Eris’s ear. “So, fucking the High Lord of Spring is your idea of fun?” Eris shrugged. “Maybe it is. I’m a generous male, Illyrian. I’ve got to share the beauty of Autumn Court passion, you know.” In an instant, Azriel had shoved Eris against a tree. With his wings flaring out behind him and the feral look in his eyes, he truly looked the part of the dark angel. “Do you ever wear anything fashionable?” Eris asked because he knew it would infuriate him. Indeed, Azriel wrapped his hand around Eris’s neck and squeezed tight.

“I don’t need the clothing of a spoiled brat to kill you,” Azriel sneered in his face. Eris only let a lazy smile form on his face as he drawled, “Kinky, shadowsinger. But I know you won’t kill me. I’m too irresistible. Besides,” Eris willed his flame to surround him like an aura of a glowing god. Azriel flinched ever so slightly as he pulled back. “You get too close to the fire, and you get burned, Azriel.” Eris rarely said his name, and he could see Azriel’s name on his lips had an instant effect on him. He shuddered and walked back towards Eris, as if drawn in by a magnet. “I still haven’t forgiven you for what you tried to do,” Azriel growled, following Eris into the house. “No sex for a week.” Eris only leaned against the entrance to his secret house. “Then why are you following me in, little bat?”

[mrchiipchrome]

I hate people who say ‘swearing doesn’t make you cooler it just makes you sound immature’ like bitch I don’t do it for you or to sound cool I do it bc I need to express myself in the way I fucking feel like. Do you expect me to say ‘holy moly I had a really bad lesson’??? Like ffs if I wanna tell my teacher that the lesson went like fucking shit then I should be able to without fucking criticism, I literally don’t even do it for anyone except myself so you can shut your fat ass up and keep failing everything you fucking piece of shit pick me ‘I’m so much better than everyone else because I don’t swear’ ass bitch. Like we’re not even friends so how can you fucking dare try to tell me what to do, unprovoked and unprompted, I don’t tell you to stop being so fucking stupid and yet you are, fucking no ass, no friends, no nothing ass person trying to make me be like her loser ass self like shut the fuck up and disappear not like you’d be missed by anyone you fucking worthless piece of human garbage. Instead of trying to tell me to check my language, try checking the door before you walk in the room you Oompa Loompa, 10000 kg, no sense of style, looking like you got dressed in the dark, paler than a fucking vampire, failure, no one likes you, no bitches, no future ass bitch. She honestly needs to check her superiority complex because she’s truly more pathetic than me trying to find a gf, I swear even if she was the last woman in the world not a single person would hit, looking like an iguana mixed with a trash can and lighter fluid, she looks like the melted version of wheelchair Barbie only if wheelchair Barbie was plus size Barbie, no eyebrows ass bitch, no eyelashes ass bitch, caca eyes ass bitch, shit stained face ass bitch, skid mark ass bitch, looking like her name is skidmore muncy, cankles having ass bitch. When I say that your standards would have to be in Dante’s 8th circle of hell to even look her way I am not fucking lying, her wannabe goody two shoes ass persona is so fucking annoying I swear it makes me want to rip my ears and eyes out the second I hear and see her, and don’t even get me started on her fucking voice that sounds like a giraffes shit hitting your head whilst someone plays an out of tune piano and drags their nails over a chalkboard. Her entire being is like a a cancerous cell, I swear that she’s a failed fucking abortion because there is genuinely no way anyone would willingly give birth to that creature, someone had to have a gun to her mothers head all throughout labour to keep her pushing bc that child would never be born otherwise. I swear I couldn’t be paid to be that annoying ass bitches friend, it would make me even more suicidal than just hearing her from afar would. And she pretends that she’s so good just because she listens to girl in red like fucking congratulations you’re like 90 fucking percent of lesbians, no one cares about your fucking ass music taste because you’re not important, the world doesn’t stop spinning just because you’re listening to some stereotypical artist. I swear she’s like the hitler of the school, you always have to be so fucking politically correct when you’re even near her bc otherwise she’ll start her fucking crying again like shut the fuck up and get a personality. Literally the plain boiled chicken breast of the school, she doesn’t even realize that no one likes her, and that people are only remotely nice to her because they feel bad that she has the personality of a piece of coal, she’s more boring than the word boring. She’s a pimple on the day you take the school pictures, she’s an air bubble in your veins, she’s that fucking annoying ass hoe you never want to see but always do, she’s the paper McDonald’s toys, she’s a hole in the bottom of your shoe on a rainy day, she’s the ball that hits you in the face in PE, she’s everything i strive not to be both looks wise and personality wise because if I end up like her I would legit kill myself.

[holly-fixation]

Sharing my first FFVII experiences for fun: (spoilers for a 25 year old game below)

-I have no idea when or how I learned who Sephiroth was. I just knew "oh yeah that's Cloud Strife and Sephiroth from Final Fantasy VII". "Cloud has a big sword called the buster sword. Sephiroth has a big katana". Literally Cloud got into Smash and I'm like "Oh cool it's Cloud" But I knew NOTHING

-let me be clear, I haven't played a kingdom hearts game either. WHY I knew them both, I do not know.

-my brother introduced me to to One Winged Angel about a year after Cloud got onto smash. And I fell in love immediately. With the song. Yes, the song. He said "hey you should learn how to play this on piano". It took me 2 years to learn but that's besides the point. He showed me the Advent Children fight and I thought it was cool and all but it was really the SONG that got me.

-soon after he showed me Aerith's death. Why? There's this mash up of Spongebob's "stepping on the beach" and OWA and it WORKED?? But in the video they photoshop spongebob's face on Sephiroth when he kills Aerith. Then he kinda had no choice but to show me the actual scene (again, I had no context)

-So my brother bought me VII after he played it under the condition that I do not look anything up. No online walk through or anything, He was my only guide. He didn't want me spoiling myself with anything else that happened in the game, which was fair. Because he purchased VII for me, I listened. He was my only source of help.

-This lead to a few problems. Recruiting Yuffie without a guide is just AWFUL. I got lost and confused so many times. I never learned how to breed chocobos. I never got Knights of the Round. I didn't understand that stronger summons were just summons you got later, not a higher level materia. I didn't know about the single save point you can set in the Northern cave.

-Most inportantly: I never met Vincent.

-I had no idea how good of a healer Aerith was, so losing her abilities hurt. Yes her death still made me sad even though I knew it was coming. Ill argue it hurt the same amount because I watched every piece fall into place up to her death knowing what was at the end of the tunnel. But after it, I was so mad I had no good healers, I made Cloud my healer so I'd never lose them again.

-Two words: Black Materia. God I was not ready.

-Because I played it on a modern console, it had cheats like max health + limit breaks at all times, turning off random encounters, and triple speed. I did use triple speed a lot for farming sessions. And Though I made it through most of the game without the (basically) god mode, I did use them for the two robots in the elevator of Shinra Tower.

-I also used them through the entire Northern Crater because I didn't think the game was over yet. The third disk just started, I went straight down into the crater, and I didn't see a single save point. This couldn't be the end of the game, right?

-I literally did not acknowledge this was truly the end of the game until One Winged Angel began. I turned off cheats immediately and genuinely tried with what might possibly be the worst materia set up possible.

-I used Ramuh against Sephiroth. RAMUH. The man was doing so little damage it was pissing me off because "This materia is maxed out! Why isnt it doing more damage??"

-So after probably 10 Supernovas and at least 45 minutes, I turned cheats back on. I did not care anymore. NONE of my characters/materia were strong enough for this and I'd been playing for probably 4-5 hours straight at this point.

-anyway I had already seen and not understood any thing that happened in Advent children, so once I finished the game, I watched the movie again a few days later.

-Skip a few years and now we're here.

-oh I also never got that scene with Zack in the bottom of Shinra Manor.

-use a spoiler free strategy guide, kids.

[ace-does-stuff]

Beat

Summary: Kenny play drums, Kyle's in drama, has a love story ever been laid out so easily before?

Warnings: Swearing

Authors Note: entering my dialogue era while I recover from the whiplash of finishing a 10K project. so yeah, enjoy some bullshit band kid kenny and drama kid kyle, no promises on quality because tired. the K2 is already like, established, in this one. hope ya'll enjoy

Kenny McCormick, older brother of one, and in his second year of high school. He's been thinking of dropping out, but there isn't exactly anywhere else that he can get his hands on a drum kit. They are much, much pricier than he initially expected them to be.

And he has friends here too, he doesn't really wanna just, ditch 'em. He'd be ditching them to pursue dreams of a garage band and working at a gas station anyways. Both of which are decent options, but not exactly ideal.

Still, he bides his time. Shattering drum sticks and near puncturing the instruments. Playing until his joints ache and until he gets blisters and callouses from it. It's a grand old time if nothing else, just for fun. For the euphoria of such a destructive instrument, the only one built for taking out his anger on.

"Kenny!"

He keeps playing, arms crossed over briefly and foot pressing on the kick pedal in perfect time. He looks up from his kit to find Kyle at the door to the band room, the few stairs down give him even more height on him. An arm rests on the railing as he walks down, he takes a seat on the floor a considerable distance from Kenny.

"Shouldn't you be practicing your role?!"

Kyle holds a hand to his ear. Kenny stops playing, pressing a hand to the cymbals to quiet them. He gently places your sticks on top of the snare drum and it rattles.

"Shouldn't you be up at the drama room, Ky?" Kenny asked, leaning over the upper drums of his kit.

Kyle scoffed, "Unlike the rest of those plebeians I've mastered all of my lines, expressions, and body language."

"Nice, you're way too fucking good at that shit. You should have an Emmy award on your wall," Kenny said, he gave a brief spin on his stool. He tapped along the cymbals as he rotated.

"I mean, I'm okay at it," Kyle said as he stood up and walked over to the spread of instruments. There was stray cases everywhere, someone left their flute on the piano. The redhead sat on the bench and pressed down on a key, "But we need some music."

"Music?" There was a bit too much excitement on his voice.

Kyle nodded, "Mostly a drum roll, but it would kill to have actual percussion offstage."

He's pretty sure he's grinning. He's definitely grinning.

"So," Kyle begins with, a devious smirk on his face, "Want in?"

"Fuck yeah! I'll totally do a drum roll for your play! Dude, it'd be a fucking honor," Kenny answered with an ecstatic nod, tapping the tip of his toe to the kick drum. It's bad for the instrument, he doesn't care.

"We already got a snare somewhere in the drama room, just bring your sticks," Kyle said as he stood up and took a couple steps closer to Kenny's kit, "Clubs after school, three fifteen to five."

He leaned over the crash cymbal, "I know, I pick you up on club days, remember idiot?" Kyle leans over and presses a kiss to Kenny's cheek.

"I remember, just making sure you knew it was today man. We don't usually do club on Wednesday nitwit," Kyle answered with smugly, he brought a hand to flick at the blondes forehead.

Kenny gives a hum, "I'll be there, and I'll make sure to wash all of the frog guts off."

"Aw man, you look hot covered in blood," Kyle teased.

"How much blood can there be in a dead frog?" Kenny asked as he gingerly pressed on the hi-hat pedal. It clattered depressingly.

"Good point," Kyle said, "Love you bro."

"We're literally dating," Kenny said.

"You call me dude, I call you bro," Kyle said, he brought a hand to his chest and blew the intensity of his words out of proportion. He was smirking, "Only fair."

"And you wonder why people think we're just friends," Kenny said.

"I'm literally in drama, Ken, I'm pretty sure they've figured out I'm a rampant homo. Although, I can see why they wouldn't be able to tell you are," Kyle said, he vaguely gestured to Kenny as he spoke.

Kenny glanced down to his outfit, "And what is that supposed to mean?"

"C'mon man, you know exactly what I mean. You need some flair, dye your hair, go goth- you've been wearing all orange since we were little kids," Kyle said, "I think I have some red leftover from last years play."

"Where you had to bleach your hair?" Kenny asked.

"Where I had to bleach my hair," Kyle echoed back, "You'd look good with a bit of dyed hair."

"I dunno dude, I think the subtle homosexual look is good on me. If another queer looked at me they'd know I'd be down to clown, and that's what it's all about," Kenny explained as he stood up and brushed down his jacket. He looked down at his outfit, "But you are the drama kid, you may be onto something."

"Exactly- really Ken, some eyeliner would fix you," Kyle said, "Helps draw attention to the face, it's why we always wear so much of it on stage. I think you'd look good with some iridescent black." He brought his hands to rest on Kenny's face, tracing over the shapes and contours of flesh.

"Dude! At least wait until we're out of school, or, in the drama room," Kenny said, batting away Kyle's hands and beating down the flush rising to his face.

"Good point, I got English, see ya in an hour or so," Kyle said before turning to take his leave.

Kenny loitered for a bit longer, science class was on the same floor, "See ya in an hour!"

[chloearit]

// discussion of csa and other potentially distressing things

One day I'd found myself alone with nothing to do. I noticed my father's old piano, off in the corner of the living room. It hadn't been used in well over a year, not since I played for him when I turned 14 shortly before his death.

I pulled it out of the corner and sat down in front of it. Started pressing some keys. Memories flashed through my mind. I started playing. After a couple failed starts I managed to play one of the pieces I'd learned almost without error. Then another. Then I just started playing freely.

I almost didn't notice when Nikita walked in the room.

I trailed off and turned to them.

They looked surprised. "You play? ... It sounds good."

"Just messing around... my father made me learn it."

They smiled and walked up to me. "You just keep revealing new skills I never knew you had."

"I didn't get to do much as a kid other than study."

Nika pressed a key. Then a couple more.

I joined in. "Father would make me play for him." I scoffed. "Not to make things weird..."

"Don't ever worry about making things weird," they muttered, tapping away at the keys.

"He made me undress, and then play. I think he got off to it."

"People get off to all kinds of weird things."

That made me pause. I stayed their hands. "How do you know that?"

"Long story." They returned to pressing keys.

"You should get a chair." I looked around the room.

They nodded, and quickly left to get one from another room.

For a moment, there was silence again. I felt Father's hands on my body.

The sound of a chair being pulled up next to me got me out of it. I made room and looked Nikita up and down as they sat.

"Do you know how to play?"

"No," they answered with a smile.

"I'll teach you."

I showed them some chords to play. They learned quickly. After a couple of repetitions, they started speaking while continuing to practice: "I had to find ways to make money after I got away from my parents. You meet a lot of weird people like that, and you hear stories. Obviously I got a lot of the creepier weirdos, but there's a lot of people who are just freaks."

"Like who?"

"One guy I heard of apparently makes his 'partners' play out elaborate death scenes with him. He comes every time without ever once touching himself. And then he just leaves. He's not a pedo though, just a freak, so I've never met him."

"He... acts out killing his partners?"

"No, no, he has them act out killing him."

"Huh."

"I kinda get it though, to be honest."

"What?"

"Have you never thought about what it would be like to get killed?"

I didn't respond. Of course I had, but... "Not like that."

They laughed. "You're so straightlaced."

"I don't think that's a word anyone's ever used to describe me."

"You're not a freak."

"You don't know that."

"What's your secret, then?"

"Huh?" I looked around the room, and paused. "Is anyone else here?"

"For real?" They smiled. "Just you and me."

I took a deep breath. "I get these intrusive... experiences sometimes. I don't know what to call them."

"Flashbacks?"

"No. They're not things that ever actually happened to me. Not like that." I shook my head.

"Fantasies?"

"Weird ones. Scenes of being... raped. Being a little kid and having horrible things done to me. And. I don't know... sometimes they don't feel all that bad? They feel almost nice. I don't... like it but I do... I do get off on it... is that... wrong?"

"Well, if it is, we're both marked for damnation."

"Huh?"

"Lu. You literally kill people for a living. I think that's more morally questionable than whatever you're worried about."

"But, I- I do it because-"

"Because of what they do, right? What they did to you, to me, to other children."

"Yes."

"Not because of whatever odd fantasies they might have. Because of what they chose to do."

"But what if I become like them-"

"You're stronger than that. That's what makes you different from them. You don't just give into your base urges. You care too much to ever hurt someone who's innocent."

"You don't know that."

"Using someone like that is an extremely callous, selfish thing to do. Every normal human recoils at the thought. That's why you're so ashamed of it. That's good. But you're not a bad person if you allow yourself to stop worrying so much about it. There's a big difference between an impure thought and an evil action. I think most people are very aware of where that line is, and they will never cross it, no matter how much they like to indulge in the fantasy. I've known you for a while now, believe me when I tell you, I don't think you would ever cross that line. But if you need my help to feel more secure, I'll help you with that."

"I think I'd appreciate that."

"It's your actions that define if you're a good person or not, and the impact you have on the world. You've helped a lot of people lead better lives. You're a good person, Lúcia."

// by Lúcia and Chloe

[lunaticobscurity]

what're some of your personal fav games? and what do you like most about them?

psychic force - it's just really cool! me and my friends started playing it back in times of yore because it did a much better job of being a videogame about taking part in anime fight scenes than any of the actual anime games to which we had access back then. especially the near-unplayable dragonball gt: final bout.

last blade 2 - aesthetically, thematically, and mechanically beautiful. i feel like, even after 20+ years, i still find new little details every time i play it. and things i've posted about before, like the way hibiki breaks down into tears for her "winpose" if she lands a killing blow on her opponent are just so good.

altered beast - i'm specifically talking about the mega drive version. it's less than ten minutes long and it's not particularly good, but it's a game that i've completed literally hundreds of times. it's also the kind of game that makes me want to make games myself, there's just something about it i find really inspiring.

shiren the wanderer - an excellent game that feels like it could be infinitely big (and its sequels are even bigger!), plus i think it gets across a positive message about friendship and community in a way that only a videogame could.

shenmue trilogy - without question, the best story ever told in videogames. it starts out seeming like it's a simple revenge story, but even early on you start to see that it's actually a story about the futility of revenge, the eauty of life, and the importance of the bonds between people.

king of fighters 2000 - i love the king of fighters series and its cast of characters. i picked this one to represent it because of one thing: if you play through arcade mode as the k' team, the little transition from the ending to the credits, where the first few piano notes of the end credits theme play, is really fucking cool.

grandia - maybe the pinnacle of videogame rpgs? graphics, world design, mechanics, sound, story, and characters all combine into a game that just does an incredible jobs of capturing the spirit of adventure

mushihimesama futari - one time i was playing the xbox 360 port of this game, and i went into a trance. without knowing it, 20 minutes passed and i played through most of the game on a single life. that feeling was amazing and like nothing else that's ever happened to me while playing a videogame.

okay, i think 8 is enough, or else i could keep doing this all day.

[strawberry-twinkies]

hello everyone, my name is hazel, welcome to my TedTalk- this is actually going to be a super long post, sorry!! but this is, in my honest opinion, why fall fair suite is actually a really, really good opening song (and is better in every way than uranium suite).

First, to get my bias out of the way, yes, one of the reasons is Jane Doe. Firstly, Jane is probably one of my favorite characters, and i love her- but also!! I might be incredibly stupid, but if im hearing correctly, the scale Jane sings in Fall Fair is the same as the scale she sings after her high notes in TBOJD (the ones after "Oh, my soul" and "Who I am") which is just,,, really cool!! And I love how it ties back into Jane's whole song :) I also personally think her two high notes at the end are meant to represent screaming, just like most people assume for TBOJD!! Im also just glad she's included because SHE DIED IN THE ACCIDENT TOO!! SHES JUST AS IMPORTANT AS EVERYONE ELSE!!

Aside from my,,, obvious bias, lets talk about the song itself!! It starts off very happy! The choir is talking about the fall fair!! Its so fun!! Yippeeeee!! But then Karnak starts talking, and it's like..kind of a punch in the gut even if you know the musical? Like… you hear him call it a eulogy and it's kind of a "haha what,,," and it slowly kind of hits you as it goes on and when he says "the now deceased st. cassian choir" its just. sobbing shaking. i am physically ill. AND TH. THE "i wish to give them a chance to express not what they were perceived to be, but what they dreamt they were." SCREAMING. THAT IS SO SAD.

AND THEN THE MOOD COMPLETELY DROPS (like the rollar coaster haha)??? And it starts with the slow piano music anD THEIR LITTLE SOLOS ACTUALLY KILL ME. I love how everyone gets a part (except jane :( ) and theyre so good and so jjust,,,, they tell their reactions so well in my opinion?? The "I wonder how can this be fair?" part. i am deceased. LIKE ITS LITERALLY A PUN? OR AT LEAST A PLAY ON WORDS?? But also the whole vibe of it is so,,,, hrrgh. And then Jane shows up but shes not there so its this spooky soprano lady singing a spooky scale-

"What a load of friggin' junk! That crusty carnie, clearly drunk! Sue that fair for everything they've got!" "But what's the point of even suing? Dead, we're done, there's no undoing. Nothing left to do except to rot!" JUNDJNFJnjFG THIS PART KILLS ME. I LOVE IT SO MUCH. OCEAN IS SO ANGRY AND LIKE,,, GGRRRR. Ocean is so upset that she died. She didn't want to even get on the ride (more on that later) and now she's dead becausse of it. She died on a roller coaster, of all things, and now she'll never mean anything to anyone and she'll never matter for anything besides her DEATH,,,, she's just going to be remmebered as some hippie's daughter that was in choir and died in a roller coaster accident like DJNjnFJNFFGFNJG im crying.

And then there's the slightly silly part and I KNOW the line "Now i know what YOLO really means" is supposed to be silly but it breaks my HEART. Like, Mischa. Bby. I WISH YOU STAYED ALIVE AND MARRIED THALIA,,, SHE IS REAL IN MY HEART AND THEY LOVED EACH OTHER,,,, but like,, that line hurts so much idk why

ALSO!! The "Life is just a dream" line echoes the progression in "It's just a ride" which is cool!! :D I really like that personally, I think it's a nice little reference tthere :>

Then the next part is in Uranium suite so. :)

BUT THE ROUND AND ROUND PART I PERSONALLY LOVE. AND THEN OCEAN SJNJDJNFJNNJD- THE FACT THAT SHE DIDNT FEEL SAFE ON THE RIDE AND DIDNT WANT TO GO??? IT HURTS ME SO BADLY. LIKE, OCEAN BBY NOOO- I WISH YOUD HAVE LISTENED TO YOUR INTUITION-

And then the way you think it ends, but it doesn't is so cool in my opinion?? And also the "we're never going back" is just. i love it. Then the progression of "but what really happens" is so good?? And Jane coming back in is honestly just,,, i love it. It reallly finishes the sound in my opinion :) i love jane so much and her soprano is so silly!!

Two more things I forgot to include!! First of all, Fall Fair being right before Jane Doe's Entrance is cool because along with Karnak's Dream of Life, it introduces her before she's officially introduced!! Like, "Oh, by the way, here's the mysterious soprano you guys heard earlier!" and I love it :)

ALSO!! Fall Fair Suite is the first song the whole choir sings together, and It's Just a Ride is the last song they all sing together and like,, the fact that they follow a similar motif at one point is like.. a nice little nod and i love it!! This musical you guys,,, they actually thought of EVERYTHING and its so good <3 <3 <3

Thank you all for reading this!! <3 + dont kill me if you like Uranium Suite no hate to it i just think Fall Fair Suite is really really good :)

[hartshorn-and-isinglass]

Nothing makes me feel old like realizing that I like Oistrakh quite a bit more now. When I was young, my favorite old master was Grumiaux and I felt like Oistrakh was specifically the kind of dude you appreciated more when you got older. (Very normal teenager opinions to have there, Marve.) And welp, here I am. I dunno, I think it's a particular flavor of warmth that didn't resonate with me when I was young and hungry and perpetually teetering on the verge of burnout.

Story time because fuck it, it's my blog I do what I want (but still under the cut to be nice about it):

If you're familiar with the Bay Area, the reason why I have such insane memories of high school orchestra class is because I went to Lowell. Yeah, that Lowell. Put a bunch of overachiever kids in a pressure cooker magnet school and you get some highly competitive orchestra classes. The first violin section, unsurprisingly, was made up of the cream of the overachieving crop, most of whom were planning on being either pre-med or engineering in college even though they could have easily all been music majors. And then there was my dumb ass once I made it to the first violin section, LOL. I honestly wasn't sure I was even going to make it alive to the end of high school to have a career. Violin was my lifeline and I threw everything I had into it, for better and worse.

The hilarious irony about all of this is my parents were actually not as proud of my violin achievements as they pretended to be. I don't know if I've conveyed to you what a bunch of insane freaks they were, but according to their plan I was supposed to become a piano prodigy. So when I decided in middle school that I hated piano and wanted to play violin instead, it was not received well. To their credit, once they saw I was serious about it they did get me my own instrument and some private lessons, but my mom did try to convince me to quit at several points, and my dad still has an entire-ass complex about it.

Hell, I was ambivalent about going to Lowell at all. I applied because my district assigned public high school was just that bad. That other school eventually was shut down for "underperforming", that's how bad it was. Knowing that Lowell had a good music program was my consolation for all the other shit I was about to put myself through. The secret of Lowell is that it's not the teachers or the facilities; both of those things were absolute shit when I was there (the music teachers were all cool tho). It's the kids. They know the reputation of the school they're going to. They know they'll be expected to apply to prestigious universities when they're seniors. It's the kids who are, sometimes literally, killing themselves to play this ridiculous rat-race game that they've been set to by their parents.

This is all to say that at a time in my life when I had very little control over anything and was profoundly depressed about it, I realized that I did have control over how much and how often I practiced, so I just kinda... maxxed that out. Time in the practice room was time spent on the one thing in my life that didn't suck nearly as much as everything else. It was time spent somewhere safe. It was time spent cultivating hope for the future. I used to describe it as an "emotional crutch" in a very ableist way when I was younger but now I look back on it in the sense of a more literal mobility aid, as the thing that kept me moving when I would have otherwise collapsed.

You know, I still don't feel "qualified" to say that violin has been a major part of my identity... despite it being my first act of rebellion, despite me pulling a literal Ling-Ling up the violin ranks in high school because I felt like I had nothing else to live for, despite somehow finding my way back to it after decades of being convinced I was done... don't laugh, but I still feel like I really should be better at violin than I am for all the meaning it has held for me. I gotta find that solution for my right hand issues, man! I have to make up for lost time! I have to git moar gud so the Muse will notice me. Haha whoops my hand slipped there-

[mslorelai]

I fucking hate christmas.

Let me rewind a bit. It isn't just that day that I hate, but all the cold days. I have SAD. I've suffered from it for many years, and most of those years I have pushed through alright. Obviously, as here I sit.

This year my change of circumstances have it hitting me exceptionally hard. After the accident, I've not felt the same for a single day. I've not had sharp pain or some kind of short disorientation or loss of thoughts or rationality at least for a few minutes a day. The three different therapies a week for two months helped quite a bit, but they didnt put me back to exactly where I was. Not like I was in an amazing place before, but still not good.

So the therapies are over, and the last doctors visit related to the accident was had. I will freely admit that since the event and coming home in march, everything has been much harder to cope with anyway, but the accident has really done me in mentally and physically. I broke down after so many years of fighting it and asked for depression meds. i told her I dont want to be the person who goes through a hundred meds just trying to get something right, especially after all the meds I have to be on now bc the accident that I am less than pleased about.

she gave me zoloft, and Ive tried it for a couple months paired with the double boost of anxiety meds, and it has literally done zero. no bad, no good, no single thing. so i stopped, just went on with the others, and really at this point I feel as if I am being devoured emotionally by some unseen being from the inside. I was thinking about how incredibly depressing this christmas has become, not just for my internal crazy person emotions, but for external stuff too that has nothing to do with myself directly. Suddenly, I was hit by that falling Acme piano during a rainstorm on a sunny day indoors.

Right this moment I am shaking profusely and cant stop. Anxiety meds down the hatch! Waiting...trying so hard to shake this feeling like at any moment, I am going to snap. I am right back to 2018. I've not met the deceased spouse. My kid is still away. I have that flood of memories swirling around the thought that once he is back on his feet and doing well and doesnt need mom to help him navigate life, once my sweet Brown goes, I no longer have a reason to live, and at this point I am so ready to be done.

Flash back to today, right now, and i remember telling doc that I dont want to kill myself, i just need something to take the edge off, and I couldnt really describe what the edge needed to be removed from until now. I am desperate to crawl out of the absolute void of nothingness. The deepest of all blacks. The iciest of the supernova booms. You would think they would be hot, and maybe they truly are, but to me they are polar vortex cold. I need to be pulled out from the crunchy ice littered deepest royal blue ocean that is so deep that not even the angler fish can find me. I am asking to be pulled from this. I am clawing to stay out of it with everything i have and its so hard.

Its hard to stay out when, simultaneously, I want to be consumed so that it all abruptly ends. no big drama for anyone else to deal with. Just quick, back to the original plan from before I got married was seventeen seconds from being brain matter squash on the ground.

If you ask me if I want to kill myself, I will always answer no. However, at this point I am not opposed to speeding up the train on the way to the station. I really really really just want this to be over with. Fuck christmas, it's always sucked anyway. Fuck this empty desperation in my stomach. bring me the void. it has to be less painful than life.

[sansheritageposts]

shut up. just shut up. ok. this is so stupid. i hate this. this isn't fair. this isn't fair. this isn't fair. this isn't fair. this isn't fair. this isn't fair. i hate it here. i am so angry. i have never been so livid in my life. this proves nothing. because with the inclusion of dr. evil this poll is wrong. ok. ok. because dr evil is the greatest bald guy ever to be born. he's one of the greatest people ever to live. ok. ok. what. no. no. dr eggman? dr ivo robotnik? eggman? no. don't make me laugh. joke. as if eggman could have ANYTHING on dr evil (dougie). what the hell. he is the head of an evil organization bent on taking over the world. he is the princess of canada. he beat up a white supremacist on live national television (the world is his. the world is his.). his father invented the question mark (claimed). he is from belgium. he is from bruges, belgium. in the spring he made meat helmets. he is adopted. he and his cat were cryogenically frozen in 1967. he was unfrozen in 1997. he was put into space in 1997. he literally owns starbucks. he was top of his class in the academy. his mother was a 15 year old french prostitute named chloe with webbed feet. he has a secret volcano lair in the middle of a volcano surrounded by liquid hot magma (just like he asked). he escaped jail with his beloved mini me by singing it's a hard knock life from the hit musical annie. he thinks on the whole preparation h feels good. he doesn't gnaw on his kitty he just strokes him and loves him. he once was turned into a frickin jack in the box. he has three testicles. he was always the smart one. as soon as he was released from space he went on jerry springer to reunite with his son. he's cool. he's hip. he's with it. when holding nigel powers captive he refuses to turn his yoohoo gold (how bout no you crazy dutch bastard). they drink it like that in belgium. it's called a belgian dip. he knows kim jong-un (they went on a viking river cruise together). he plays the piano. what if god was one of us. danny devito played his clone in the film that was made of his life. he and austin aren't so different. all he ever asked for was frickin sharks with frickin laser beams attached to their frickin heads what about that is so hard. he has a secret moving underwater lair. he worked in trump's cabinet but was fired. he ran for president in 2020 (make the world evil again) ((ran with zuckerberg). he hired a scottish wrestler who eats human babies. he wrote and published a book. he made jimmy fallon laugh on television. his cat mr. bigglesworth used to have hair but it all fell off when they were cryogenically frozen in space (mustafa could not accommodate for that in his calculations) (mustafa was killed for this) (he was burned but did not die just very badly burned. then he was shot. he was shot right in the arm). he's holding the world hostage for (more than) one million dollars. he feeds his cat meow mix. he lost his hair because he was evil. he speaks french. he beat up jerry springer live on television on his own show. he is greater than anyone else who has ever lived or ever will live.

BALD GUY FIGHT ROUND 3

[pinknightsinmymind]

Hello! can i request a Ellie x fem reader who likes to play the piano? Like Ellie ask the reader to play something for her during their day off, a lot of fluff please :')

have a great day!

【 miss piano man - ellie williams 】

ellie williams x fem!reader

wc: 2.7k

warnings: mentions of weapons, one mention of blood, clickers, etc.

content: devoted gf ellie, lots of fluff, some kissing, so much fluff your teeth rot, somewhat protective ellie

a/n: besides the mention of the singular clicker, this is all fluff!! so dw! this was such a cute request! writing this made me realize how much i LOVE the ellie williams devoted gf agenda bc it's literally her she'd do anything for the person she loves

She never knew you could play piano until one fateful day out on patrol. You came across an abandoned music store, and as soon as you saw the dirty windows with the faded music notes, you begged her to let you go in. The door was locked, so you’d have to find another entrance inside.

“Please, please, please, can we go in?” you pleaded.

“Baby, we’ve never cleared this store before. We don’t even know what’s in there.”

“How bad can it be? Come on, I wanna see what’s inside. You’re a guitar player! You should wanna go in, too.”

“Yeah, I wanna go in,” she said, “but who knows how many Clickers or Bloaters are in there.”

“Hear me out. I have a plan.”

“Let me hear this,” she teased, placing her hands on her hips.

“You see that window pane above the doors? It’s broken. You’re gonna hoist me up—”

“Absolutely not. You’re not going in there on your own.”

“Oh, my God, just listen. That’s not what I was gonna say. Anyways, you’re gonna hoist me up and I’m gonna look through the window, throw a bottle in the store, and see if anything reacts.”

“And what are you gonna do when a Bloater comes tumbling through and breaks down the door?” She made a good point, but you weren't going to take no for an answer.

“There won’t be one because I’m praying and hoping there won’t be one.”

“I’m not allowing you to go through with that plan.” She had such a stern look on her face, and although you wanted to take her seriously, she was too cute.

“Why are you being such a downer today?” you joked. “Come on. I’ll have my pistol ready just in case.”

“And what if a bunch of Clickers or Runners come after us out here because they hear the gunshots?”

“You’re no fun.”

“I’m just messing with you. We’ll go through with your plan, okay? We can do it.”

“Finally.” Ellie cupped her hands together and hoisted you up to the window pane. At first glance you saw no signs of Clickers, only a dirty store with sunlight coming in through the windows. Some things here and there were knocked over, but everything else seemed pretty much intact. You pulled the bottle you gathered from your bag and threw it into the store. The bottle shattered loudly, and you waited in still silence for any sign of undead life. A few seconds passed until you heard it. The running footsteps and clicking noises echoed as it came close to the front door. You drew your pistol quickly, almost like second nature, as you shot two bullets at the Clicker’s head and it fell. You released a breath and stayed silent in wait of anything else that may have been in the building. Seconds faded until a minute had passed and still nothing. You nodded your head to yourself and grabbed onto the ledge.

“All clear,” you said to Ellie as you hopped over it and into the store. You braced yourself as you landed before standing up and brushing your clothes. You unlocked the door for Ellie who walked in with a big smile.

“Hey, pretty lady,” she greeted you. You laughed.

“Hey,” you said back.

“You kill that Clicker all by yourself?” she asked, shutting the door behind her.

“Sure did,” you answer. You watched as Ellie walked around its dead body and its puddle of blood in order to come closer to you.

“You’re a good shot,” she complimented. “I like that in a woman.” You felt her hands grab onto your waist, her thumbs rubbing circles on your sides

“Really? And what do you think I like in a woman?”

“Someone like me, obviously.”

“You’re such a dork,” you say, which makes her laugh a little and let you go.

“Now, what did you want to come in this store for?”

“I miss music, that’s all.” You began wandering the store, maneuvering around the Clicker’s body, and looking at the store’s stock. They had different band posters on the walls, music notes painted everywhere, old vinyl records on shelves and hanging on display. You found strings for guitars, cellos, and violins, and you quickly grabbed all the guitar ones that were still in good shape for Ellie. “Here, take these,” you said and shoved them in her backpack to continue looking around. She followed you around silently, curious as to what you were looking for so earnestly. You also found old, broken guitars hanging on the walls, which really was a shame considering how beautiful the colors and designs were. It was when you got to the back of the store you finally found what you were looking for.

A piano.

It had been so long since you’d seen one or even touched one. You hurriedly pulled out the bench and pushed up the keylid. The piano was sleek and black, more modern, which was completely different from the one you played at the old church. It had been old and wooden with carvings of angels and saints on it. The keys were a little dusty, but at least none of them were broken. Your fingers hovered over the black and white keys lightly, testing them to see if any were out of tune or if they didn’t play anymore. Miraculously, they were all in good condition. You felt Ellie take a seat next to you as she glanced at your face, then the piano.

“You know how to play?” she asked.

“Yeah. I learned it when I was younger. I stayed at this camp for a while with my family, and there was a guy there who was friends with my father. He knew how to play piano, and there happened to be one at the old church nearby, so he taught me.”

“I didn’t know you could play,” she said softly.

“Well, I haven’t played in years, and it’s hard to come by pianos, anyway.”

Ellie hummed in agreement. “True.” She leaned her head on your shoulder, her presence being one of the most glorious things you’ve ever experienced in your life. She was so warm. “Play me something.” How could you ever deny her anything? You played her some of the old melodies you learned that you could remember, hands moving between the keys like a careful dance. Some days it felt like your hands itched as you were desperate to get them on a piano again, and here you were with Ellie at your side. You glanced at her for a second while you played to see her eyes closed as she listened. She seemed so relaxed and at peace. The sight warmed your heart as you continued to play more softer pieces. Well, what little of them you could remember.

“I didn’t realize how much I missed playing.” You felt Ellie kiss your shoulder as she listened to you. “I’d play every day if I could.”

“Can you read sheet music?” she asked.

“A little bit, but I was no master.”

“I can’t believe you hid this amazing talent from me. We could’ve been playing duets all this time.”

“With what piano?”

“Minor detail,” she remarked. She always knew how to make you laugh.

“We should probably get going soon, huh?” you asked.

Ellie shook her head. “No, keep playing for a little bit. I want to hear. Everything else can wait.” She’d listen to you play for all eternity if she could. She didn’t want you to stop playing, to stop doing this one thing that you loved and missed more than anything. In a perfect world she envisioned you as some famous piano prodigy, which she knew you’d argue with her if you brought it up. You’d say you weren’t that good, but to Ellie that didn’t matter. She admired you for what you were capable of, and didn’t care about whatever you considered yourself incapable of.

You played a little longer, just for her, so she could listen. You wished you could play some of the beautiful, classical pieces your teacher could instead of old folk songs, but that would have required years of practice. You barely got a year seeing that your teacher passed away tragically.

“I think you’re an amazing player,” Ellie finally said. She placed a kiss on your shoulder again.

“Thanks, babe,” you said in return.

“We go when you’re ready to go. I don’t wanna make you stop playing.”

“We can stay for a few more minutes.” And you held onto your word, because after a few more minutes of playing you pulled the piano’s keylid down. Your hands hovered over the soft, wooden surface, thinking how long it’d be until you come across another piano again. By then you’d probably have forgotten everything, and although it saddened you, it was a gift and a blessing to have even known how to play at one point in time. Maybe in another life you’d get a better chance to be a piano player.

+ + +

You had been lounging lazily in your small house at Jackson when you heard a knock at your door. Today was your day off from patrols, so you had been spending most of it just doing nothing. When you opened the door, you found a certain girl waiting for you.

“What are you up to?” Ellie asked.

“Nothing much. Just being lazy.” She nodded, then smiled. That’s how you knew she was up to something. “You only make that face when you’re planning something.”

“Maybe I am.”

“Tell me, then.”

“How about you come sleep over at my place tonight?” she offered. “You can come over right now if you want, and we’ll just watch movies and be lazy together. It is our day off, after all.”

“I’m sold,” you said. “Let me get some things together, and I’ll be right there.”

“Okay. I’ll go clean a bit while I wait for you.” Ellie placed a quick kiss on your lips before walking away. You shut the door and quickly gathered some of your things in a bag. You didn’t really bother bringing clothes to change into because you figured you’d just borrow some of Ellie’s. She wouldn’t mind, in fact, she’d even love it. As you walked to her place, you realized it’d been a while since you’d stayed at her place. Lately she had been coming over to your house, or both of you had been too busy for a sleepover, so this was a nice change. When you knocked on her door it only took her a few seconds to open it. She grabbed you and dragged you into her place, slamming the door shut as she pulled you into a hug.

“You act like you haven’t seen me in years.”

“It has been. I last saw you twenty minutes ago. That is years.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

“You love it.” She placed a bunch of kisses on your face before placing one on your nose and pulling away. “I have a surprise for you.”

“What kind?” you asked. You watched as Ellie went over to her desk and picked up three different books that had been laying there and handed them to you. You looked through them, completely in awe at what she had gotten you. One was a book full of sheet music for popular songs, one was a guide on reading sheet music, and the other was sheet music for classical music pieces.

“Like them?” she asked.

“Yes! When did you get these?”

“I snuck them from the music store when you weren’t looking.”

“Ellie, I love them, but I don’t have a piano to play.”

That’s when Ellie grew a giant smirk on her face. “I thought you’d say that.” Ellie walked over to the closed garage door by her desk, and that’s when you noticed the shelf that had always been there was moved across the room close to the bathroom door. Whatever was there was covered by a white sheet, and when she pulled it off, you stared in complete shock. Where did Ellie ever manage to get a piano from?

“You—you got me a piano? How?” It wasn’t the one from the store because that one was painted a sleek black, while this one was a dark, wooden brown. It looked new and well-taken care of, unlike the one from the store.

“Well, you know Miss Margie? The old lady who makes the pies? Well, this used to be her son’s before he passed away. I asked all over town for a week if anyone had a piano they didn’t use, and she did. So I traded her a couple jars of pickled foods with her in return for it. She was happy someone would finally have use for it.”

“But Miss Margie lives pretty far away from you. How’d you bring it all the way here?”

“I asked Jesse for some help, and we dragged it all the way here this morning while you were sleeping.”

“And on my day off,” you realized.

She nodded. “Yep. All arranged by me.” She had planned all of this. Now you understood why she had been so adamant about you taking this day off with her.

“You’re an evil genius.” You stepped closer to the piano, completely unable to process that it was now yours. You placed the books on top of the piano and threw your arms around Ellie in a giant hug. You buried your face in her neck as she returned the hug immediately and rubbed your back comfortingly. “Thank you so, so much. I can’t believe it.”

“Anything for you.”

You pulled your face out of her neck and immediately pulled her into a kiss, which she had no problem reciprocating. God, you loved her so much. You felt her hands grabbing onto your face like she always did. Always the most passionate person you knew. She pulled you even closer to her, and you could tell she would hold onto you forever if she could. Eventually she pulled away from you, staring into your eyes for a moment, before kissing your forehead.

“Come on, let me hear you play something, piano man.” She patted your back as you stepped away from her and took a seat on the bench where she immediately joined you. After pushing the keylid up, you couldn’t believe how clean and well-kept the keys were. Miss Margie and her son really cared for this piano. You began testing out the keys before finding middle C and getting ready to play. You started steadily, playing soft and sweet melodies that drifted into the air. It provided its own kind of lovely atmosphere to Ellie’s already cozy place.

“Thank you so much for this. I literally can’t thank you enough.”

“You’re welcome. I couldn’t help myself when I saw how happy you were playing. I couldn’t bear to see you never play again, either.”

“You’re so thoughtful.” Your fingers moved through the keys a little more smoothly than they did last time. That was the point of practice, wasn’t it? “I could teach you some basics, if you’d like.”

“I’d love that.” Ellie rested her head on your shoulder again, letting out a content sigh. “I think this is what Heaven would be like. Just listening to you play and feeling you next to me.”

“Always the romantic,” you commented. Ellie smiled at that.

“How can I not be romantic when I get to listen to you play like this?” Ellie watched your hands move, and heard as you transitioned from one song to another. So beautiful, she thought. “Whenever you wanna practice, just come over here. Anytime. I’d love to listen to you play whenever.”

“I’ll be sure to.”

“And eventually we can play together.”

“That would be amazing! We could write a song together,” you said.

“Definitely.” You stopped playing for just a second to rest your hands, seeing as it had been a while. Ellie took that as an opportunity to grab them and place kisses on the back of your hand and your knuckles. “I’m happy you like it. Never stop playing, okay?”

You nodded, and gave her a quick peck on the lips.

[tearblossom]

Hear my soul speak. Of the very instant that I saw you, Did my heart fly at your service.

- William Shakespeare (The Tempest – Act 3, Scene 1)

Well, this is it. This is the absolute pinnacle of what this game can offer me. His Shakespeare face is the ultimate for me, man. Nothing is going to be able to top this one. Ever. The way he looks at her in this moment is my everything. I literally just stare at it for long periods of time, more often than not while lying in bed, in silence or with some sad, romantic ambient/piano music going. Some of my favorites are those Resident Evil save room themes with the added rain ambience on YT. Oh, sweet Jesus! It just melts me into an unrecognizable puddle and sends me to my happy place. I'm listening to it right now lol. I was just staring.. 😭

His and Laura's entire storyline is one, big Shakespeare moment but THIS moment right here is THE Shakespeare moment. It's one of the most romantic things I've ever seen in my entire goddamn life and I'm not exaggerating. The amount of love in this man's eyes create tears in mine. It has me reciting poetry in old English and crying on main.

I just can't believe that he was willing and very, very content to flush six torturously long and brutal years of waiting for this very moment to kill Silas straight down the toilet if it meant that Laura would be even the slightest bit happier than she was before. Her piece of mind was his piece of mind. Her happiness, his happiness. Her “revenge”, his absolution. And to hell with everybody else! All that mattered was her. It’s okay if he dies as long as she’s the one to do it. This just breaks me. It literally breaks me. I know I’m being super dramatic but this is just the way it makes me feel. I can’t help it! I'm just trying my best to put it into words. 😩

That picture is set as all of my backgrounds. I simply can't get enough of it. It's my new obsession. I had my Dark!Travis phase (and still do because I'm never getting over Dark!Travis because I love him so much!) but Good Travis here has made a comeback of epic proportions. He wasn't just gonna sit there quietly and let this shit slide. He was getting fed up with my lusting over Dark!Travis all of the fucking time even though I lust over both of them equally. 🤣

He told me, "So, you think Dark!Travis is hot? Well, congratu-fucking-lations! But does he do this?” 

N.. no. He.. he doesn’t.. 😳 😳

Come what sorrow can, It cannot countervail the exchange of joy, That one short minute gives me in her sight.

- William Shakespeare (Romeo and Juliet – Act 2, Scene 6)

rose divider: @firefly-graphics​

[daddysfangirls-anime]

Why are you here?

Pairing: Kaneki x reader (x Ayato)

Warning: Fluff, Language, smut, fingering, oral,

Summary: She likes Kaneki and wants to know why he joined Aogiri Tree. She gets her answers and more .

Why was he here?

Ken Kaneki it was obvious he was here for his own personal reasons and benefits. But what were they? Why join Aogiri Tree the people who kidnapped and tortured him? Why?

These were what thoughts ran through (y/n) head every time she saw him. At first, she didn't care but the more she saw him and got to know him the more the questions nagged her.

why was he here?

Her reason was obviously, Ayato, her best friend she followed him like a lost puppy. She had no one else. But why was Kaneki here? It seemed as if everyone but she knew.

Why was he here?

I can smell your brain frying from here. Just go talk to him." Ayato said seating on the window seal (y/n) sat on her bed she had a dumbfounded look. "oh don't give me that look. I can see your head turning. Your wondering why again. How about instead of wondering YOU GO ASK" Ayato had watched (y/n) drive herself mad putting theories of why together. He knew why Kaneki was here, to get stronger simple as that. To reach his true form. Weird sentimental shit.

"you think he'll answer me" (y/n) stood from her bed

"why shouldn't he, it's just a question" Ayato shrugged and (y/n) nodded as she left the room Ayato watched her go.

He didn't like this obsession (y/n) had with Kaneki it made him uneasy. He thought Kaneki a bit unstable though respected him for his strength, goals, and ability to protect his sister. Ayato thought himself almost equal to Kaneki, ALMOST.

(Y/n) stood in front of Kaneki's door hesitate to go in. Alright, alright you got this. She went to knock on his door then opened it not waiting for a response.

"I wondered when you would come in?" Kaneki said standing in front of a window.

"why are you here?" (y/n) jumped straight to the question. Kaneki looked over his shoulder. Did she really not know? Everyone else knew even the higher-ups who allowed him to join knew. But she didn't know. Guess you could blame Ayato for that. Even as a goal he kept her very clueless and innocent.

He was bored maybe this would be fun.

"what, you don't know?" Kaneki turned around. "no" she looked so adorable. "I thought it was obvious, apparently not. Why do you think I'm here?"

"Just a theory but...maybe Ayato. I mean he's Touka, your friend's, brother. Maybe you're here to convinces him to go back. Or... you' re a spy here together secrets maybe you' re part of the CCG. Oh, or you're here to work up the ranks then kill the one eyed ghoul, The leader".

(y/n) took a seat on Kaneki's couch as she rambled on and on somewhere in her rambling she switched from theories to books to movies. She didn't even notice when Kaneki handed her a cup of coffee. Kaneki found her rambling and how she easily switched between topics adorable (y/n) didn't even notice how comfortable she had made herself until she took a sip of her coffee.

Shoes off, curled up on his couch, coffee in hand, Kaneki sitting across with a small smile.

"oh my gosh, I am so sorry" (y/n) tried to get up seeing as she had made herself too comfortable.

"no, no, no" Kaneki stopped her "it's fine it's fine"

"I was rambling then got comfortable"

"I like it. It's adorable" (y/n) blushed settling back into the couch. The only person that enjoyed her rambling was Ayato. It was flattering to have someone else enjoy it.

"Did any of my theories come close" Kaneki chuckled "yes and no". "well are you going to tell me what I got right"

"Nope"

"tell me" (y/n) whined leaning against Kaneki "why"

"I want to know why you're here"

"why"

"..."

"Why do you want to know so badly that you're begging for it" the tension in the air got really but it wasn't scary tension but something else.

" I ... because. I want to know when you're going to leave" she pulled away and looked down. She hated to have to say it but she had developed a small crush on Kaneki in his time being here. She liked him since the day they kidnapped him. That was fun.

Kaneki leaned in a little closer setting her coffee cup elsewhere. "why do you want to know that?"

"I... I don't want you to leave" Kaneki wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into his lap.

"and why is that, (y/n), why don't you want me to leave?" oh this boy was playing dirty like the devil.

"I enjoy you're Company and I like you and - I just want you to stay. Who will I have to talk about books when you're gone?"

-

"Don't you have Ayato?" Kaneki asked as his lips ghost across her skin. She shivered. "I'm sure he'll be happy to listen to you" he kissed and sucked on her neck as she whimpered and whined under him.

"Ayato, h-he doesn't really listen. I- I aaahhhhhh" (y/n) moaned as Kaneki's hand moved up and grasped her breast through her shirt. Kaneki leaned back (y/n) still in his lap and put his arms behind his head.

"You want me to stay then make me stay. Show me you want me to stay."

(y/n) slid off of Kaneki's lap and got on her knees in front of him. She made direct eye connect with him as she unbuckled his pants and pulled out his cock. (y/n) leaned forward still making eye connect with she kissed the tip of his cock. "you're going to need to do more than that if you want me to stay"

Licking for the base to the tip (y/n) took all of Kaneki's cock in her mouth in one got quickly hitting the back of her throat. She had most defiantly done this before. Kaneki groaned but kept his hands behind his head as (y/n) sucked and bobbed up and down on his cock. He continued to hit the back of her throat as her hands massaged his balls.

"Fuck. I'm not going to last long with you doing all that. As good as the view it I'd like to finish elsewhere." Pulling her back Kaneki stood her up and helped her pull off her dress and panties, thank god she when braless today. Pulling her back down into his lap Kaneki hand found it's between her legs feeling how wet she was. "looks like you enjoyed that as much as me"

(y/n) moaned as his hands spread her folds and slipped inside of her. She leaned forward gripping his shoulders as he pumped his two fingers inside of her and had his thumb working her clit. She moaned as she clawed at his chest.

"yes, yes, yes"

Kaneki fingered her until she was brought to the edge clenching around his fingers then he pulled away. (y/n) whimpered as she felt the emptiness. "don't worry I'm giving you something bigger". And in one swift move, Kaneki thirsted up into her.

(y/n) screamed and fell on to him as he filled her in one go. He didn't stop to let her adjust but continued to pound into her. It took a moment but soon the  pain became pleasure and (y/n) moaned as Kaneki thrust into her. Arching her back massaging her breast with one hand and her clit with the other.

"I'm I'm so close... please, please, please"

Kaneki speeds up as he gripped her hips tighter and pounded into her harder. (y/n) screamed as she came clenching around Kaneki triggering his end. Feeling Kaneki fill her made her moan and almost come a second time.

Kaneki twisted them so they were laying down on the couch. (y/n) whimpered as Kaneki gripped her ass and lifted her so that he would slip out of her.

-

Kaneki drew soft circles on (y/n) back as she laid on his chest listening to his heartbeat it was like a loud yet low drum. It was something she'd never get used to, but like to hear.

"Touka," Kaneki said. (y/n) looked up yo see Kaneki looking at the ceiling " I'm here for Touka ... and everyone else at the Café. I want to get strong and better so I can help and protect them. So nothing will ever happen to them. I'm not here for beliefs I'm here for strength".(y/n) sat up

"you could've just told me that we didn't have to do ... this" she waved around to her clothes on the floor and her naked body. Kaneki managed to stay dress the whole time.

"To be honest I was bored" Kaneki chuckled (y/n) scoffed "well I'm glad I could entertain you".

Getting up (y/n) dressed herself leaving Kaneki she heads to her and Ayato's room.

Entering the room she found Ayato in his bed and collapsed on him. Her head on his chest listening to his heartbeat it was nice and soft like a piano. It was something she was already so too and couldn't go a day without hearing.

"did you get your answers" he had one hand on a book and the other combing through her hair. "Touka... and strength. But mainly Touka" he threw his book

"Thought so"

Ayato pulled her closer and kissed her forehead. As he rubbed her thigh he felt a wetness "something tells me you two did more that talked" he said as his hands dipped down into her folds. Shit, she knew she forgot something.

"yeah" (y/n) sighed "He wouldn't tell me at first. Plus he was bored. He wants Touka not me, it was just a waste of fucking time. and he didn't even last that long"

Ayato laughed as he pulled her closer and kissed her cheeks." That's okay I want you. You're my slut best friend."

"who are you calling a slut" (y/n) said sitting up and straddling Ayato

"you, the girl who left then waltzed back in 30 minutes later with no underwear and cum dripping out of her. You are literally dripping ."

(Y/n) pulled up her dress to reveal her clean shaven pussy that was indeed dripping. This was no the first time he had seen her naked nor the last. Ayato laughed. (y/n)pulled her dress down looked directly into his eyes and said

"shut up"

[spencersawkward]

i’m so happy ur on tumblr now!! i love between the lines so much, could you write a blurb or one shot about mgg and a younger co-star, but like very spicy if possible 🙃, idk i just love that scenario🥵.

i was literally about to write "omg i love this concept too!" and then i was like “well no fucking shit, sophi.” lol. YES i can 10/10 write you a one-shot with a similar scenario! also thank you for your kind words that was the first fic i ever wrote so it’s very near and dear to my heart!

summary: reader goes to a holiday party with her co-stars and best friend, Matthew... but all the fun happens in the dressing room.

content warnings: this one is quite dirty but i’m also proud of it lol. unprotected penetrative sex, oral (female receiving), degradation, use of the term “little girl,” creampie, age gap. dirty talk?

pairing: Fem!Reader/Matthew

word count: 4.7k

masterlist

"no."

"what do you mean, 'no’?” Matthew laughs, looking between me and the mirror.

"I look like the Ghost of Christmas Past." I lift up the soft white tulle of the dress, watching it float back down to settle over my skin. he's got his eyebrows raised and there's a smirk on his lips like he's holding back a laugh. I resist the urge to reach around and hit him.

"would you rather wear that?" he points to the punch-stained gown that's now laying pathetically over the back of the vanity chair. I genuinely ponder the idea for a moment.

"honestly, the crime scene vibes might work well with the theme of our show."

"seriously, it's not bad, Y/N!" he insists, drawing my attention back to the mirror.

"you're just saying that because you're the one who spilled on me and you don't want people making fun of how clumsy you are." I cross my arms over my chest. he gives me a dubious expression in our reflection on the wall.

"do I seem like I care about that?" he challenges.

"I--" the truth is that no, Matthew is not the type. Matthew is the kind of person to flounder in front of anyone and proceed to crack a joke about himself. he's humble. but I kind of like when we talk like this, our back and forth.

after a year of working together on the same show, he and I have grown incredibly close. I'm friends with all my co-stars, but he and I just have the natural friendship chemistry that makes me want to spend all my time with him. when we're not on set, we're hanging out on his couch or ordering dinner or driving out of town to check out wacky sites around California. we just have fun. pure, clean, honest fun.

of course, in my dreams it isn't pure or honest. frankly, there's a lot of sordid scandal to what goes on in my head when he accidentally touches my arm or brushes his fingers over mine. the amount of times I have gone to cast parties trying to work up the nerve to kiss him are embarrassing. he's older and more experienced and, obviously, he has no interest in me.

but that doesn't matter.

the only reason I'm standing in a dressing room alone with him is because he knew someone on the crew who could hook me up with a replacement for the night. he left while I slipped out of the old one and came back in only after knocking and checking, like, twice to make sure I was decent. he's so respectful that it's almost like he's afraid of making me think the wrong thing-- which makes me feel absolutely stupid for my almost schoolgirl crush.

"come on, you look great. let's go enjoy the party."

"was this a dress one of the victims was wearing?" I ask with a laugh.

"probably. not like we carry a lot of gowns on set." he grabs my hand, makes my heart leap into my throat. he only does it to urge me along, but it still feels intimate as I follow him out of the room, tossing one more evaluative glance at myself in the mirror. I seem terrified.

we continue to do our rounds at the party, Matthew filling my glass of eggnog even though I hate it. I wince and take a sip while we talk to some of our co-stars.

"what's wrong with you?" Shemar chuckles at my expression.

"lost a bet."

"with whom?" he glances between Matthew and me, knowing damn well already from the mischievous grin on the former's face.

"I told you not to take it." Matthew says over the rim of his glass.

"if you mention it one more time, I'm gonna throw up eggnog all over your outfit." I threaten him, but we're both smiling. Shemar frowns.

"what was the bet?"

"you know David-- the guy I was telling you about?" I reply quickly, determined to give my side of the story. Shemar nods; I told him last week when David oh-so-chivalrously danced up on me at a club and asked me out. usually in those situations, guys just want a one-night stand, so I was impressed and agreed. "anyway, Matthew said if it turned out that he was a weirdo, he would get to pick my drinks for the next week whenever we go out."

"your drinks? that's specific."

"she's so picky!" Matthew teases me.

"leave me alone, you dick!" I elbow him and he dodges just in time.

"tell him why he was a weirdo." he grins. the glare I give could kill. but Shemar is waiting expectantly for me to share the information, so I sigh and set my jaw before telling the truth.

"he collects antique dental tools."

"what?" Shemar laughs disbelievingly. I throw my hands up.

"I don't fucking know. we went back to his apartment and he showed me his whole collection."

"you're attracted to weird people, Y/N." Matthew says. I raise my eyebrows and almost say something that dooms me. I hold my tongue, however, and turn back to Shemar with a reserved smile.

"anyway, how are you?"

...

the cast holiday party is actually pretty fun. I tend to leave these functions early in favor of my couch and some ice cream, but something about the bright colors and the smell of wintergreen in the air makes me want to linger in the studio.

I stuff myself with sugar cookies and Matthew mercifully lets me switch from eggnog to Sprite. normally, I'd drink at such an occasion, but I'm a messy drunk and this is one of my first real jobs as an actress. I don't want to even come close to jeopardizing that by breaking some expensive equipment or something.

my throat gets a little sore from all the talking I do-- Paget and I spend about half an hour horribly belting out Christmas carols at the baby grand piano they brought in. they originally had someone hired to play it, but the guy disappeared about an hour ago.

by the time it hits around ten pm, my limbs are tired. I thought people would be leaving (a lot of them have families), but the party is still very much raging when I start to wind down. maybe it's because I'm sober.

"hey." Matthew sidles up next to me as I sit at the piano bench with a slice of lime in my mouth. I like to suck the juice out of them; sour things are my favorite.

"hi." I pluck the fruit out and drop it back into my soda. he sits next to me, his cologne filling my senses with the kind of sensual warmth that it shouldn't be making me feel. he always smells so good.

"ladylike." he gestures to the movement.

"is that why you call me 'princess?'" I smirk, half-joking.

"once-- I called you that once!" he defends. it's not a lie. he used the nickname when he was mocking me for my somewhat selective food preferences. it was sarcastic, but I wish it wasn't. something about the way he said it in the moment made me blush.

"is there a reason you've come to grate my nerves?" I raise an eyebrow and he turns away from me as he bites back a smile. I pout. "what?"

"you're talking like a Jane Austen novel."

"what's wrong with Jane Austen?" I defend, skin heating up. his proximity is doing things to me that it shouldn't.

"nothing," he glances at me before moving his gaze to the ivory keys. "do you play?"

"elementary level, sure." I giggle. he runs his fingers over them, never pressing down hard enough to release a sound. I'm entranced by the delicate nature of his actions, the veins and the curve of his fingertips, the sheer width of his hand. I think about it too much for it to be healthy.

"show me." it's a direct order, one that doesn't feel directive but still ends with me placing both hands on the piano and wracking my brain for something to play. I decide on a piece that Paget and I were doing earlier, "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas."

I've never been quite good at piano, and the nearness of his body is like an anvil on my fingers, but I play anyway. and it feels good. his eyes are on me, drawn to my tracings over the instrument as they press and lift and glide.

"sing." I tell him.

"no!" he protests. I don't stop playing, only now getting into the thick of the tune.

"oh, come on. just the chorus..." I plead, turning my head to beg. "please?"

I bat my lashes playfully, fully intending it as a joke, but Matthew softens a bit. for a fraction of a second, I think he looks at my mouth. he turns his head back to the piano and lets out a quiet "here we are as in olden days... happy golden days of yore..."

"there you go!" I egg him on, and he starts to get more into it. his voice is absolutely off-key; he's no singer, and somehow that makes him even more endearing to me.

Matthew has always been this flawless, intimidating figure in my mind. even when we first met, I was certain that he was hiding something because everything else about him is so... perfect. he's funny, sweet, genuinely kind, handsomer than hell. it didn't make sense. but knowing that he can't carry a tune makes me feel a bit better. it humanizes his beauty.

while he sings, I can't help looking at him. his side profile is even more enchanting; the curve of his features meeting a smooth elegance in his jaw and cheek, especially when his mouth is open. he catches me smiling at him and returns it with his own gleeful face, now totally fine with singing like a fool in front of everyone. nobody is even really looking at us-- they're several drinks in and lost in their own universe of drunken laughter.

there's something kind of magical about that, I think. we're sober. when the song draws to a close, I lift my fingers off the keys and into my lap.

"you're quite the Pavarotti." I joke.

"the who?" he furrows his brow with a smile.

"he's a famous opera singer."

"oh," he laughs, "thanks, Mozart."

I twist my face up as I hide my smile. this is also part of the reason I could never tell Matthew how I feel; we just fit together too well. he almost always gets my references and I understand his, even though there's an age gap between us. he's an old soul with a youthful heart.

"how's your night going?" I ask him softly, changing the subject. he sets his hands on his lap, absent-mindedly toying with his fingers. it's not a nervous tendency at all. he does it whenever we're on set.

"as of right now? pretty damn good." he replies with a smile. I get warm again at the implication. he doesn't mean it like that, but god, do I wish he did.

"very smooth." I compliment appreciatively.

"how about you?"

"it was kind of boring, but then this rando sat next to me and started singing Christmas songs and it got a little better." I say flatly, grabbing my glass off the top of the piano and running my fingertip over the rim. he drops his head in a giggle.

"you're something else."

"insult?" I clarify.

"definitely a compliment."

"I like compliments."

"well, I wasn't lying before. you look really beautiful in that dress."

"the murder dress?" I glance down at it to hide the absolute wideness of my eyes at his words. he's completely flustering me and I'm starting to find it hard to breathe. he said I look beautiful. not "pretty," not "great"-- beautiful.

"yes, the murder dress." he gets a little pink in his cheeks, and that makes me want to explode on the spot.

"well, say goodbye to it because I'm gonna go change back into my plebeian clothes," I stand from the piano bench. "it's past my bedtime."

Matthew looks up at me with an unreadable expression and I feel my heart flutter in my chest. I hate leaving him. "do you wanna come with me? like-- walk with me?"

"sure." he nods, stands, and follows behind. I can feel his presence like a delightful reminder of the emotions surging in my stomach. we wind through the crowd of party-goers until we end up back in the dressing room, away from the party. it's quiet.

Matthew walks in with me, carrying our drinks in his hand, and he's about to stroll back out so I can change when I touch his arm. the door shuts automatically behind him.

"wait," I swallow quickly. "can you unzip me?"

"oh." Matthew looks at me, then at the glasses in his arms, then at the vanity. he sets them down and comes back quickly, his frame behind me while his fingertips locate the little piece at the top of my gown. my breath hitches in my throat when he brushes over my spine by accident, one nail dragging accidentally against my skin as the fabric slowly gives way. I don't know if he hears it-- it's nearly imperceptible-- but he definitely hesitates once he reaches the place where my back starts to curve into my ass. he pauses, doesn't breathe until he reaches the end of the zipper.

"there you go." he mutters. his voice is a little more hoarse than usual, and he clears his throat as he steps away. I know he's going to back out. he's going to back out of the room and wait for me to slip into nothing and I know, somehow, that he's going to be thinking about how I look in here with my clothes off. he's going to wish he stayed.

and I'm going to wish he'd done more than stayed.

before I can lose my nerve and allow the moment to be swallowed up by practicality, I shrug the straps of the dress down my shoulders and let gravity take over. it drops to the floor, leaving me in only my bra and panties. I can sense him behind me; he's silent for a moment.

"Matthew." I say, the name sitting on my tongue like a sugar cube. perfectly formed, slowly dissolving.

"y-yeah?" he stutters for the first time since I've met him.

"are you looking at my ass right now?" I ask, still turned around. the way he's frozen in place tells me that I'm right.

"yeah." he admits.

"you can touch it, if you want." I murmur softly. part of me doesn't think this is real, the way each sentence leaves my throat like it's been pre-planned. truly, I don't understand how my brain is moving so quickly.

"are you... sure?" he's hesitant, but even I can taste the longing.

"yes."

his hand smooths over my butt, softly at first like he's still not believing his own eyes, before moving back to grab it. he squeezes the flesh, and a low exhale from him tells me that he's excited.

"do you want more?" my voice barely carries. my head is almost foggy from how good it is to have his grip on my body, even in such a simple way. I can feel myself getting wet.

"how much more?" his lips brush over my shoulder and I get goosebumps. my mouth opens and closes for a moment, searching for the right words.

"however much you want."

it's flint and steel, the way he sparks. the air literally leaves my lungs when Matthew grabs my hips and spins me around to face him. my lips part as I peer up at him, at the lust that now darkens those hazel eyes and the way he holds mine. his touch is certain. he pulls our bodies together, tilts my chin up to kiss me.

it's passionate, strong, the kind of kiss that causes me to lean back a bit just to receive the full force of his desire. but I return the affection easily, moaning into his mouth. I've never been held the way that Matthew holds me. like I'm made of sugar glass, like he wants desperately to feel the soft give of my skin and make a home of me.

the heat between our bodies is almost overwhelming, and I sigh when he subtly pushes our hips together. his erection is against my stomach.

"fuck." I mutter when I pull away for air. Matthew doesn't stop his perfect movements, though, tugging my earlobe between his teeth and starting to leave love bites up my skin and over my shoulder. he chuckles against my throat. I shiver.

"you alright, little girl?" he asks.

"just--" I let out a moan at the sensation of his fingers exploring my bare waist. he reaches behind me to unclasp my bra. "just surprised."

"about?" he slides the straps down my shoulders and looks me in the eye. the lack of physical contact makes me whine.

"that you want me."

"how is that surprising?" he smiles, using one index finger to guide me to look at him.

"you don't seem like it."

Matthew raises his eyebrows as if I'm a crazy person. truly dumbstruck. "what?"

"you-- well, I don't know." I frown, but Matthew takes my hand and moves it over his torso until my palm is resting over the considerable bulge in his pants.

"is this enough proof?"

I struggle for words, sputtering. "yeah-- yeah, it is."

he bucks into my hand a little and I bite my lip, eyes moving up to meet his. something passes between us that I don't fully understand, but feel in my bones. I have never, in my life, wanted someone to fuck me as much as I want Matthew to fuck me right now. my jaw clenches.

"I need you." I tell him like this is the most relevant piece of information that will ever pass between us. he smirks.

"yeah?"

"mhmm."

"then lean against the wall and let me give you what you deserve." he orders. for a second, I try to think through what he means. then I look behind me at the open space and back up, him following me closely. his hands move up to cup my breasts, kneading and tweaking my nipples as he kisses my lips. the coolness against my back causes me to gasp, and he swallows the sound with his tongue before moving down my body.

he's torturously slow, taking one of my nipples into his mouth while he shrugs off his suit jacket. he switches to my other peak, one hand splayed over my stomach, and then proceeds southward with his lips. his kisses are delicate, open-mouthed, as they find their way to the waistband of my panties.

he hooks his fingers in them and looks up at me.

"can I eat you out, baby?" he asks. I bite my lip.

"please." like a beg.

"oh, you're polite tonight." he smirks, tugging the garment down my legs and discarding it somewhere in the room. I don't respond, and he doesn't seem to need me to, because he pushes one leg up for better access to my pussy. "let's see if it lasts."

my back curves off of the wall involuntarily when he holds the flat of his tongue against my clit suddenly, trying to roll my hips against his face. my fingers tangle in his hair, one leg resting over his shoulder.

he starts to flick at my clit. I lose grasp of my own language.

"Matthew, that feels so good, I--"

he attaches himself to my bundle of nerves, seemingly turned on by the sounds I'm making for him. he groans as he laps at the wetness between my legs, dipping into my folds and sucking the soul out of me. I whine and use his curls as leverage to gain more friction. he peers up at me.

"needy little girl." he mumbles against my pussy. I shove him back into me.

"make me cum, then." I beg. I can practically feel the devilish smirk on his face as he devours me like he'll never get enough. every twist and lick of his tongue is sending me to new places. I'm panting, chest heaving, while I grab my own tits and buck into his mouth.

he moans. my orgasm hits me like a wave, causing me to nearly thrash with pleasure as I cry out.

"Matthew, keep going, fuck yes!" I feel tears prick the back of my eyes, the culmination almost too much to bear as we hold contact. he stares into my fucking soul as he eats me out, and I want to stay like this forever. it's hard to support myself with my legs going weak, but I love it. the sensations are otherworldly. it's only when I'm about to collapse that I push his face away from me.

"I love your pussy." he tells me, licking his lips as he sets my legs down. I grin and let my head fall back against the wall.

"thanks."

"come here, princess." he takes hold of my hips and guides me over to the mirror, turning me so that he's standing behind my frame. the pet name causes me to smile.

"what?" I reference our reflection. he stares at me, reaching around to squeeze my tits.

"I wanna fuck you in the mirror." such a vulgar thing, said so beautifully. he kisses my cheek. "if that's okay with you."

"I don't care what position we do as long as you're fucking me." I breathe honestly. he chuckles and draws me towards him so his clothed boner is against my ass. I reach behind and work the button on his pants. he undoes the ones on his shirt. we're silent, him watching my naked body move like he's trying to memorize every detail.

when he's finally stripped, he lets me stroke his cock for a couple moments before pushing my upper back forward so I'm holding onto the sides of the mirror. I see him biting his lip as he lines himself up at my entrance.

"you ready?" he checks. I nod and he smiles at me once. pushing in, the smile melts into a jaw-dropped haze, eyes rolling into the back of his head. "Y/N..."

"it's so big." I try to breathe. he's so deep, I grip the mirror until my knuckles turn white. he's going to snap my body in two with the angle of his cock, filling me easily.

"tight little thing." he grunts as he holds himself inside. I can only watch in shock as I try to adjust to the sheer feeling of him. Matthew runs his hands over my sides, my ass, touching whatever he can. "how's that?"

I start to wiggle my hips and he groans at the feeling of my walls desperately swallowing him up. "Matthew, I need it."

"need what?" he thrusts into me and I have to fight a scream.

"need you."

"fuck... yes." he hisses out, sliding into me. "you're so wet I don't even need to try."

I bite my lip to withhold my sounds and he stares me in the eyes in the mirror as he starts to fuck me harder, building a pace with his hips. he growls a little if he hits certain angles, getting ruthless.

"so many times when I wanted to be inside you, princess..." he trails off. I start to play with my clit with one hand, using the other to stabilize myself with the mirror. the idea turns me on.

"when?"

"whenever you have attitude," he pants. "tonight, in that innocent fucking dress. making me wanna pound you like a little slut."

I make a high-pitched sound at the shudder of pleasure that jolts through my stomach at his words, wanting more. I've never heard him talk this way before.

"Matthew, shit--" I rub myself in circles, caught between watching his face and watching the way his hips slam into mine.

"you're begging to be fucked, you know that?"

"am I?" I smile sweetly in the mirror. we're in our own world, locked in a fantasy that I never want to leave. I can feel him in every corner of my body, sinking beneath my skin. he digs his nails into my ass.

"mhmm." he hums. I can feel the familiar weight in my stomach that indicates how close I'm getting. a knot that screams to be undone by his perfect length. I would do anything for more of this. I can taste everything good in the world on my tongue.

"I'm so close." I whine.

"I can tell," he studies my face in the mirror. "so pretty when you're breaking."

"oh--" I feel my thighs tense and my body pulses, the euphoria almost overwhelming. we move steadily, rhythmically, and he pushes my climax to new levels. "faster." I cry.

Matthew is quick to respond, gripping me closer while he plows into me like he's never going to have my body again. the sound of it is filthy, perfect, a mess. he groans at the sensation of my cunt pulsating around his cock.

"cum for me, princess." he moans, losing himself in the embrace of my core. the foggy stare in his eyes is like drowning in the ocean. I sink below, not caring at all about the consequences of him inside me. fuck working together; I need him. "where should I cum?"

"in me." I groan.

"beg." he commands easily, watching my face contort in pleasure. I could pretend to fight it, to give a little attitude, but I don't want to. I love begging for him.

"fill me up, Matthew. please." each word punctuated by the breathlessness of my voice. he gets even more ferocious with me, beating up my pussy until I'm sure he's going to leave me sore.

"right there, right there," he gasps, hitting the same spot that makes me go cross-eyed. "such a good little slut."

his cum shoots into me, deep and warm and erotically twisted, and I nearly collapse. it feels weird, but so good at the same time. full. he groans out my name and withdraws, quick to grab my shoulders and hold me up as I almost fall. I hadn't realized that most of my body weight was supported purely by his thrusts.

"whoa." he lets out a tired laugh, gentle in his touch. I'm heaving air into my lungs.

"sorry." I apologize, my body unstable.

"are you okay?" he seems genuinely concerned and I nod.

"yeah, I'm fine. just a little overwhelmed."

"here," he scoops me into his arms and brings me over to the old love seat in the dressing room, laying his jacket down before putting me on top of it. "can I get you something?"

"Sprite." I gesture to the glass on the vanity, and he smiles as he goes to get it. I gulp down whatever remains of it. "thanks."

"of course." he keeps glancing at my face and the red marks on my hips where he was clutching me like a lifeline. "I'm sorry."

"what?" I set the cup down. "don't ever be sorry for fucking me like that."

"no, I meant--" he laughs, but then he sees my playful expression and realizes that I'm genuinely alright. I think my legs were asleep.

"you're a saint." I tell him. he frowns and shakes his head bashfully. I'm already getting up and collecting my clothes. "or maybe what we just did prevents you from reaching sainthood. I don't know."

he places his hand on my lower back, kisses my forehead tenderly.

"seriously. you're okay?"

"I'm perfectly fine," I assure him. "but I would be better with a milkshake."

Matthew breaks into a slow grin, staring at me like I've done something miraculous.

"how are you so perfect?"

[alpacaparkaseok]

Ivy

➣ Pairing: apprentice!Jungkook x reader, art curator!Hoseok x reader

➣ Premise: You’ve been promised to Jung Hoseok for twelve years. You’ve never wanted anything else. Until now. (inspired by the song “Ivy” by Taylor Swift)

➣ Genre: arranged marriage au, angsty with some fluff, SFW

➣ warnings/tags: it’s a bit angsty, the reader is technically promised to someone else so it’s a little messy, general EmOTioNS, a bit intense/stalkerish but not too bad?? some fun fluff and banter as well, but Hoseok might kill a man and Jungkook will go down fighting

➣ word count: 12.2k *yeah, I know. this sucker is like 3 times longer than it was meant to be*

➣ a/n: this was a commission by @delacyrose224 for Army for AAPI! Thank you so much for requesting this awesome prompt, I literally had too much fun writing this. I swear, I could’ve made a whole series out of this. You guys, check out ways to get involved in this awesome cause by clicking the link!

The person staring back at you in the mirror is not you. Of that, you are certain. There’s no way you could ever pull this off – the silken layers, ivory making your skin glow with a dew-like complexion…

           You voice as much. “I don’t even recognize myself.”

           “Isn’t that kind of the point?”

           Whirling around in a flurry of skirts and soft-to-the-touch fabric, you spot your betrothed lingering in the doorway.

           “Hoseok!”

           He chuckles, the sound making the corners of your lips tug upward. Taking in the sight before him, you can’t help but notice the way he chews on the inside of his cheek. Hoseok takes one hesitant step forward, crossing his arms.

           “You should’ve seen me earlier,” he croons, voice always sounding like he’s a breath away from laughter. “I thought my dad had somehow teleported into the mirror.”

           You wince. “Does this mean we’ve grown up?”

           “Unfortunately.”

           Twelve years of waiting for this. How have they already passed?

           “You know,” Hoseok begins, dropping your gaze in favor of stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I haven’t even properly proposed to you, yet.”

           “You should probably get on it.”

           “Mmm.”

           “Aren’t we getting married in April?”

           He frowns. “Yeah, mid-April I think. It’s barely November, though. So there’s no pressure, right?”

           You almost burst out laughing at his simple question. No pressure? Pressure has been your constant companion these past twelve years.

           What else were you supposed to feel? Trying telling a thirteen year old that they’re already promised to somebody and then tell them “Oh, but no pressure.” Of course, they made sure to drop that little piece of pointless comfort after they mentioned who you had been promised to.

           Jung Hoseok.

           Three years your senior, he had seemed larger-than-life when you first met less than a year after learning of your pre-determined commitment to him. He’d been kind, that was your first thought. A little strange, a little loud at times. For your teenage self, that was fine.

           Then things began to change. It was a rare occasion that you ever saw Hoseok; the two of you lived in different cities. However you distinctly remember one occasion in which you had unintentionally bumped into him while in search of your parents at their giant headquarters located in Busan.

           It was easy to get lost in that building – you still can picture all the different nooks and crannies where different works of art were stored. The more valuable ones were of course under lock and key, however there were plenty of show rooms that you managed to get lost in.

           You had done just that, taking a detour through the preservation room where several workers could be seen on the other side of the glass cleaning a timeless piece that had just been flown in from Austria. Once you realized where you were, you turned to leave. However, something caught your eye that made you hesitate.

           There was Hoseok, perched on the edge of a stool as he leaned over the artwork. There was nothing particularly flashy about him that day, something you weren’t used to. In all your time of knowing him (four years at that point), you had never seen him in something other than formal wear. If it wasn’t some sort of suit or dress shirt, it was a sweater vest that he somehow managed to pull off.

           This time, he was disguised in a white lab coat, holding a Loup to his eye in an effort to analyze the fine details of the painting. His brown hair was a little mussed, his knee bouncing up and down in the only outward show of excitement he portrayed.

           One of the workers began speaking, the details of their conversation muted to your ears due to the glass separating you from them. However, you watched as Hoseok listened with almost terrifying focus before turning back to the painting and delicately taking a brush to the frame. No doubt dusting off some invisible smudge.

           You had been frozen for a long moment, completely unfamiliar with this man. The Hoseok you knew was jovial and quick to laughter. He made you smile and roll your eyes. He put you at ease.

           This man, with his precise flicks of the wrist and unwavering focus, was a force of nature.

           You realized then, at the age of seventeen that while you were promised to this man, you did not know him at all. There was so much more hiding behind that heart-shaped smile.

           And now, at twenty-five, you are no closer to knowing him than you were before. You’ve never known anyone else quite so talented at wielding smiles with the same deftness as a sniper hiding on a rooftop.

           “No pressure?” You scoff, wiggling an eyebrow at your intended sniper. “That means I can’t gain any weight from here to April! That’s impossible with the holidays coming up!”

           Hoseok bursts out laughing, clapping at your comment as though you’ve just completed a stand-up routine. “That’s a good point,” he sighs, making a contented sound. “I’ll have to ask my tailor to let out my suit a bit in the spring.”

           You fidget on the pedestal, glancing back at the mirror over your shoulder. Your gown is breathtaking, there’s no denying it. It’s just…overwhelming.

           “Well,” Hoseok begins to back out of the room, “You look beautiful. Sorry for snooping around, but I couldn’t resist.”  

           You straighten up at his comment, preening a bit. Over the years, you’ve come to realize that Hoseok’s compliments are not given lightly.

           “Thank you.”

           He shrugs. “It’s true.” He turns on his heel and strides out the door, calling over his shoulder, “We’ll fly out first thing in the morning.”

           Piano Concerto No. 4 in G, from Beethoven’s Opera 58 echoes off the domed ceiling, bouncing through the air and enveloping you in a cocoon of music. Without your realizing, your right foot bounces out the rhythm as you crane your neck to get a better look at your work.

           “C’mon, David,” you groan, sparing the renowned sculpture a glare. “You’re not making this easy on me.”

           “I wasn’t aware that sculptures got vasectomies.”

           You jolt, nearly tipping off of your step stool before two warm hands grasp your shoulders. Sputtering and spewing, you spin around to see just who you need to direct your cursing at.

           “Who are you?” You fume as the person in question removes their hands from you and takes a timid step back.

           “Jeon Jungkook, m-ma’am.”

           “Is that name supposed to mean something to me?”

           Jungkook’s eyes widen even more, something you didn’t think he was capable of doing. Chowing down on his bottom lip, he gives you a small shake of his head.  

           “Then tell me who you are to me, not your name.” You inwardly grimace at your snappy tone, but you’ll apologize later.

           “Oh, I…uh, I’m the apprentice?” When you don’t immediately get a look of understanding on your face, Jungkook presses on. “Mr. Jung’s apprentice, ma’am.”

           Ah, that checks out.

           Hoseok’s father would be stepping down as the East-Asia representative on the international board of Art and Artifacts (basically the equivalent of the U.N. in art terms), leaving a spot open for Hoseok to ascend the ranks.

           “Why haven’t I met you before? Haven’t you been around for a while?”

           In order to complete the apprenticeship, Jungkook would need at least three years of working alongside Hoseok. Learning the ins and outs of being the curator of some of the biggest art collections and galleries in the world.

           “Yes ma’am, I have.”

           “Ok, Jungkook,” you stand up and stretch, gaining some sort of sick satisfaction from the way he scampers back a bit more to give you space. “Two things. First, I’m not ‘ma’am’. Just speak to me casually, ok?”

           There’s a flash of surprise in his eyes, but he nods. “And the second thing?”

           Turning point to the David in all his glory, you smirk over your shoulder. “Don’t sneak up on me when I’m working. David here nearly lost his balls because you startled me.”

           Cheeks flushed pink, Jungkook sputters out something resembling a “y-yes, I won’t do it again” before dropping his gaze to the floor. Chuckling to yourself, you resume your position before the sculpture, meticulously layering on a protective substance to the David’s nether regions.

           You and Hoseok had been called over to Italy in order to make preparations for the upcoming art show. It was to be the first of its kind --- never before had these timeless artworks been on display like this. Royalty, presidents, dignitaries of every kind mixed with world-class celebrities would be present.

           As a precaution you were going through and applying a protective but clear substance to more fragile parts of the artworks. Today, the David was the lucky one.

           “So, Jungkook,” you hum, completely undeterred by the strange position you were in at the moment. “What brings you over to my side of the museum today? Shouldn’t you be off with Hoseok, planning for the event?”

           “Ah, well…Mr. Jung said you might need a hand. I volunteered to assist you with whatever you need.”

           You blink. Hoseok had always been completely content to leave you to your work. It was a silent agreement you have: you let him do his thing, and he doesn’t interfere with your stuff.

           “Huh.” You smooth out the final touches, leaning back a bit. “Interesting. So what, you’re just hanging out with me for the rest of the day?”

           “Yep. For the rest of the week, actually.”

           David stares off into the distance, ever stoic. You swear you can see a bit of a confused glint in his eye as the sculpture listens in on your conversation. It’s always just been you and the artwork. So what’s this with Hoseok sending Jungkook over? Is he just trying to be kind and help you out?

           Probably. There’s no need to assume anything else. You just think…

           Well, despite trusting you, you would think he’d send someone less attractive to help you with your work. Is this some sort of trust exercise he’s pulling on you before he proposes? Or does he just not care enough to think about the possible repercussions of his actions?

           “Doesn’t he care at least a little bit?” You think aloud, frowning up at David.

           “What was that?”

           “Oh,” you swivel around to give Jungkook an apologetic smile. “Nothing. Do me a favor?” Jungkook nods. “Take a look at this for me, see if the extra layer is noticeable at all.”

           Getting up to move out of his way, you can’t help the grin that breaks out as Jungkook flushes a bit when he gets up close and personal with the David. Despite his obvious embarrassment though, he meticulously checks ever angle.

           “I can’t tell at all,” he finally responds, straightening up. “You’re amazing.”

           You blink. “Oh. Er…thanks.”

           “So, where to next?”

~~

           “We look like those ancient plague doctors,” Jungkook jokes, hanging you a bottle of clear liquid before you can even ask for it. “You know, like with the big beaks and stuff?”

           You snort, which in turn fogs up the inside of your suit. Waiting a moment for it to clear up, you glance back at Hoseok’s apprentice.

           He has a point. The two of you look slightly ridiculous, in your full body Hazmat suits that are necessary to inspect these ancient papyrus scrolls. They’re falling apart already, no need for you to contaminate them with something as feeble as a sigh. Once you’re finished working on them, they’ll be placed in thick Plexiglas cases which will keep them safe from the outside world.

           “We’re missing the beaks, though.”

           Jungkook hums, watching you carefully as you smooth out the scroll. “I bet we could roll these up and use them as beaks.”

           “Not funny.”

           “Worth a shot.”

           Rolling your eyes again; something you’ve become prone to doing in the past 24 hours you’ve known Jungkook, you set to work.

           It’s only quiet for so long before Jungkook speaks up again. He does so quietly, making good on his promise not to startle you anymore. “No Beethoven today?”

           You give a slight shake of your head, hardly daring to blink while applying the syrupy liquid to the bottom corner of the document. The slightest mess up would result in having to scrape it off before it dries, which is something you don’t want to have to try. Not when a single nick to the papyrus equals game over.

           Letting out a sigh of relief once you’ve completed that section, you sit back and stretch. “No,” you groan out mid-yawn. “It felt like a Tchaikovsky kind of day. Don’t know why.”

           “Hmm.”

           “Ok, we need to wait…” you glance at the clock on the wall. “About an hour to let that completely set in before flipping it and working on the other side.”

           “Great, let’s grab some lunch.”

           You blink, watching Jungkook as he shoots to his feet and heads toward the door. “I was going to suggest we get started on the next exhibit-”

           “Food first,” Jungkook chimes, leaving no room for argument as your stomach rumbles at the thought of lunch. “We’re literally in Italy, food always comes first.”

           Well, he has a point.

           You make a point of locating Hoseok before heading out for food, eventually finding him in a grand corridor surrounded by staff. Wherever Hoseok is, there’s constant motion. People flitting about, running errands and trying to keep everything moving in a timely fashion.

           As the two of you became closer work partners over the past few years, it’s become a familiar sight. It helps, finding Hoseok is usually fairly easy. Today proves no different.

           “Hoseok!” You wave him down, offering a smile to the surrounding staff that recognize you. The man in question is nudged by his assistant, Joshua.

           “Hey!” Hoseok breaks away from the group and jogs over to where you stand beside a column. He nods at Jungkook, smiling warmly. “What’re you two up to? I thought you were working the papyrus today.”

           “We have an hour before we can move on to the next thing, so we’re grabbing lunch. Wanna come?”

           “Oh,” the look of surprise on his face gives you cause to wonder when the last time you invited him to do something with you was. “That sounds…really nice, actually. Give me a minute?”

           Your heart stumbles as it pick up in speed, something you weren’t anticipating. “Yeah, sure. We’ll wait right here.”

           “Great, thanks.”

           With that, he scurries back over to the throng. Jungkook leans over to you, elbow nudging your arm.

           “What?”

           “How long do you think they’ll last before calling him?” Jungkook muses, an amused smile on his face.

           You can’t help but laugh, knowing full well that it won’t be long. “I’d say…thirty minutes?”

           “Really? I’ll give them forty.”

           “You’re too generous.”

           “Aren’t you being too hard on them?”

           Your eyes slide over to Jungkook, arching a brow. “No. So what are we betting?”

           Jungkook breathes through his teeth, taking in your determined expression. “Hmmm…money or something else?”

           “Not money, that’s too boring.”

           “Ok, ok.” Crossing his arms, Jungkook sways from side to side as he thinks. Slowly, his eyes drag across your face, trying to see something that’s beneath the surface. “If you lose, you have to be my date to the gala.”

           “W-what?!” You choke on your spit, staring up at Jungkook like he just grew a second head. “I can’t- why would you-”

           He tilts his head to one side, clearly enjoying your shock. “Hurry, make your bet. What happens if you win?”

           “Jungkook, I’m literally marrying Hoseok in a few months, I can’t just go as someone else’s date!”

           “Don’t worry,” he winks, only furthering your embarrassment, “I’ve it all planned out. Now, hurry up. He’s heading back.”

           Indeed, Hoseok is clapping Joshua on the shoulder and turning this way. Chewing furiously on the inside of your cheek, you blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “Ok, well if I win then you have to leave me alone for the rest of the week!”

           There’s a hint of worry that streaks across Jungkook’s features, but it’s covered up a few seconds later as he thrusts out his hand to shake on it. “Deal.”

           With the way he grins down at you, you can’t help but feel like this was a stupid thing to bet on.

~~

           You’re wedged into a booth not long after, sitting shoulder to shoulder with Hoseok. Jungkook takes the spot across from you two, never missing a beat in his conversation with your betrothed.

           “The guest list has been finalized,” Hoseok is saying, smiling warmly at the server that drops off some menus. You don’t miss the way she ogles your companions, shrugging it off. It’s become a common occurrence. You’re not blind to their looks.

           “It wasn’t finished before?” You ask, frowning. Hoseok passes a menu to you, leaning in a bit closer. It’s unnecessary, but the way he lets his leg rest against yours has a rush shooting through you.

           So…this is a new development.

           “No,” Jungkook answers for him. “Well, we thought it was, but then the curator here wanted to invite some more political officials. Has it been a mess trying to rearrange?”

           “Yeah, but everyone pulled their weight.”

           “That’s good to hear.”

           It’s relatively quiet as you all look over your menus, bouncing ideas off of each other for what they should get. After you’ve placed your orders, Hoseok nudges you.

           “Your mother called me last night.”

           Your eyes widen. “She did?”

           Both men chuckle at your obvious worry. “Yes, she did. We had a nice chat. Why do you look so concerned?”

           Perhaps it has something to do with the last conversation you had with your mother. It took place about three weeks ago, when she’d come up to Seoul for a visit. The visit had been pleasant enough; you’d gone to dinner and talked about things back home. She’d actually approved of your apartment, despite the eclectic feel to it.

           It has almost been too normal. You should’ve known that it was only a matter of time before something happened.

           You were busy putting your leftovers from the restaurant in the fridge, your mother hovering in the doorway to the kitchen with a pensive look on her face.

           “Have you ever had…doubts?”

           “Doubts?” Your voice was muffled from the odd angle, but you peeked out around the door of the fridge with a questioning look. “About what?”

           Your mother shrugged, keeping her eyes trained on the door of the fridge and its decorative magnets. “About Hoseok.”

           You immediately stood, closing the door with a dull thud. “What?”

           “I just…your wedding is coming up, he’s probably going to propose within the next couple of months – for heaven’s sake, you have your dress fitting coming up in just a couple of weeks, isn’t that right?”

           “Mom,” you voice was stern. “What is this about? You’re scaring me.”

           At your confession your mother finally met your eyes. “Oh, sweetie, I didn’t mean to worry you so much. But I can’t help but wonder, you know? We’ve never really talked about it-”

           “There was never anything to talk about!” You sigh, exasperated. “All I’ve known is that I’m going to end up with Hoseok, and that’s that! He’s a nice man, hardworking, and we make a good team.”

           “I know, darling. I know.” She hesitated before stepping forward, coming to place a loving hand on your cheek. “I just want you to know that you get to make this decision. Even though it may not have always felt like it. There is…more. Out there, for you.”

           More?

           “Just, uh…” you shake your head, trying to clear your mind of those thoughts rolling around your head. “Wanted to make sure she didn’t share any embarrassing information about me.”

           This makes both men chuckle, Jungkook leaning forward with eager eyes. “Like what? Do tell.”

           You blush at his undivided attention, groaning and slipping down further in your seat. Hopefully neither of them notice your pink cheeks, something tells you that Jungkook would never let you live it down.

           The fact that you don’t know how Hoseok would react has you even more on edge.

           Hoseok grins at you as you sit up again, reaching around your shoulders to pull you close. “Aw, you probably don’t have any embarrassing stories. We all already know that you’re perfect.”

           You blink, staring up at your betrothed as his smile softens. He’s never spoken to you like this. First sending extra help in the form of Jungkook, then dropping everything to go to lunch, now this?

           Before your mind can run with the idea blooming in your chest, your server appears with your food. Her eyes instantly zone in on you and Hoseok, something registering in her eyes as she offers you a warm smile. Then, she turns her full attention on Jungkook. Practically eating him alive as she sets his food down in front of him.

           “Your hair is so long,” she muses. “I’ve never seen anyone able to pull off hair like that…what’s your secret?”

           Jungkook, who you assumed would preen in the attention, hardly glances the girl’s way. His eyes rest on where Hoseok’s hand ghosts over your shoulder, slow in its retreat. Jungkook keeps a neutral expression, although his eyes shoot up to yours in a way that has you pinned to the back of the booth.

           It’s over just as quickly as it began, Jungkook grinning down at his food and mumbling, “No secret. Just good genes.” He doesn’t wait another second before diving into his food. You snort at his reply, Hoseok just shaking his head before beginning to eat in a more meticulous manner. If he noticed the strange exchange that just passed between you and Jungkook, he doesn’t say anything.

           Or maybe it was all in your head. Maybe that protective coating you applied to the papyrus earlier today has gone straight to your head, addling your brain.

           The food is delicious, as expected. The three of you fall into an easy conversation, revolving mainly around work. You notice that Jungkook keeps checking his phone, but you ignore it.

           That is, until he offers you a smug smile before focusing his attention on Hoseok.

           “So, for this gala…we’re meant to bring a plus one, right?”

           Hoseok nods. “Yep.”

           “Who’re you taking?”

           Hoseok laughs, taking a long sip of his drink. “Who? I don’t know, I feel like I should maybe take the woman I’m marrying in a few months.” He shoots you a friendly wink, but you can’t completely return his light-hearted nature. Has it already been forty minutes? But still, there’s been no call…

           “Oh,” a familiar ringtone cuts through the air, and Hoseok grabs his phone from his pocket, frowning at the screen. “It’s Joshua. I’ll just step outside for a moment.”

           Hoseok is too busy sliding out of the booth to notice the way your jaw drops. The second he’s out of sight, you turn an accusatory glare toward Jungkook. “What was that? Did you seriously tell them to call-”

           “Before you castrate me, I’d like to defend myself. Can I do that?”

           “And then I can castrate you?”

           Jungkook visibly swallows. “I only meant it hypothetically, but…just listen.” When you angrily wave for him to continue, the smug smile from earlier reappears on his face. “I have this all under control. But, from where I’m sitting, I won our little bet. So I have a question for you.”

           “I’m not going with you, Hoseok is taking me!”

           Pushing his tongue against his cheek, Jungkook sits back and observes you for a moment. “Don’t be so sure about that, sweetheart. Now, what color of dress are you wearing to this thing?”

~~

           You do your best to ignore Jungkook for the rest of the day. Hoseok chats happily with you on the walk back to the museum, occasionally finding a way to let his hand graze yours. It’s enough to keep you distracted from Jungkook’s complacent expression which is usually directed in your direction.

           Parting from Hoseok is like parting with a security blanket, and he looks to be particularly pleased with the way you run your hand down his arm before bidding him goodbye. Jungkook huffs a breath, which goes unnoticed by your betrothed as he heads into the building where countless workers wait for him.

           “I’m still waiting on an answer,” Jungkook chides a few moments later. You’re desperately trying to outpace him, annoyed when he easily keeps up.

           “You’re not getting one and we’re not going together.”

           “Didn’t I tell you that I’d take care of it? Everything. Even Hoseok.” You stop in your tracks when Jungkook jumps in front of the doors, opening one up with a flourish.

           “Jungkook.”

           “Yes, darling?” It’s infuriating how much you react to the pet name, your reddening cheeks giving you away instantly.

           “Stop.”

           Jungkook blinks, straightening up a bit as you sweep past him and head inside. When he’s silent the entire walk to the papyrus lab, you let out a sigh of relief. Never mind the fact that there’s a dull disappointment blooming in your chest. For a moment, it was nice to think of what a night at Jungkook’s side could be like.

           It would certainly be different than what you’re used to with Hoseok. Not that you two often spend occasions like this together, it’s more of a formality than anything. The first few minutes are always a dream: Hoseok can’t take his eyes off of you and gets flustered. He’s a perfect gentleman, and even goes so far as to hold you close to him when entering the event.

           However, it only takes a few minutes before he’s swept off in one direction and you the other. Collogues, board members, and possible buyers of the rare artwork on display keep you two busy and apart for the entirety of the night.

           You make to step into the prep room, ready to get back into your hazmat suit and start on the other side of the papyrus scrolls. The moment you step in, however, the thought of being stuck in such a small space with Jungkook nearly makes your lightheaded. Focus is paramount in your line of work, and Jungkook counts as a distraction.

           “Would you go around to the sculptures we worked on yesterday and make sure they’re doing ok?” You glance over your shoulder to see Jungkook freeze in the doorway. “I, uh…I never know how they’re going to respond to the added layer.”

           Jungkook has lost all of his previous swagger, simply giving you a curt nod before turning to walk away. You can’t help but watch as he briskly heads down the hallways, running his hands through his hair before fisting them at the nape.

           You jump a little as the door closes, lost in your thoughts. Rushing back to you are your mother’s words.

           “There is…more. Out there, for you.”

           The words settle for a moment before you snort, chuckling to yourself before putting one leg in the hazmat suit. “They’re both hot. So what?”

~~

           Two more days pass in a similar fashion. Jungkook is always waiting for you at the entrance to the museum, resembling an eager puppy before you shut him down with a stern look.

           Last night you spent a ridiculous amount of time coming up with errands you could send him on that wouldn’t seem too suspicious. For the most part it’s worked; you’ve been working alone for most of the day, and Jungkook hasn’t seemed too keen to intrude.

           A part of you feels a bit bad for shutting him out so much, but you really have no reason to let him in. Especially not when he was so set on taking you to the gala when you’re very clearly promised to another.

           “Does he have something against Hoseok?”

           Your question is directed to your current project, The Incoronation of the Virgin, by Jacopo di Cione.  Of course, the virgin humbly sitting with a crown on her head pays you no mind, but you carry on anyway.

           “But then again, why would he? He’s getting his job, isn’t he?” You sit back, lightly dusting at the finer details of the mural. “Oh, maybe he’s angry at me.”

           “Why would I be angry at you?”

           You gasp as you stumble back, losing your footing from where you were on a stepping stool. You gasp louder (if that’s possible) when two sturdy hands grab your waist, firmly keeping you in place.

           “Steady?”

           “Why do you keep sneaking up on me?” You seethe, stepping down and out of Jungkook’s grasp. “Did I ask you to finish cleaning the bottles we used yesterday?”

           “I finished that.”

           “And what about sweeping the work area?”

           “Done.”

           “What about-”

           “Done,” Jungkook looks like he’s considering taking another step, but stays put. “I finished everything. Now would you quit sending me away?”

           You give him a long look, noting the way his cheeks burn under your gaze. After a moment you sigh. “Yeah, fine.”

           Jungkook perks up instantly, and a second later you find him glued to your side. He gazes up at the panel you’ve been working on, his mouth dropping of its own accord.

           “Wow, it’s beautiful.”

           “Mmhm.” You head back up the step stool, getting back to work while Jungkook holds it steady. He admires the artwork, leaving you in relative peace.

           “How did you get into this stuff?” He asks from the other end of the painting. You arch a brow before furrowing it, trying to come up with a reasonable answer.

           “I…well, this is what my family does.”

           “Uh-huh.”

           “Well, I guess they tend to lean more toward the buying and selling of artwork. From my teen years I’ve always gravitated more toward the conservation of artwork.”

           “Why’s that?” The fact that he sounds genuinely interested throws you off, making you pause as you meet his curious gaze. There’s no malice in his eyes, not a hint of the annoying pride from two days prior. Just genuine interest.

           It gives you a falling sensation, which has you clinging to the stool until it passes.

           “It’s quiet. Peaceful, for the most part.”

           “But it’s stressful, too?”

           The beginnings of a smile curl at your lips. “Yes, that too.”

           A companionable silence falls between the two of you after that, allowing for you to work quickly and efficiently. Once you’re satisfied with the panel, you find Jungkook ready to hold the stool steady while you get down.

           “What about you?” The question falls from your lips before you really understand what you’re asking.

           “Me?”

           “Yeah. Why did you decide to become an apprentice? It’s a long apprenticeship. And last I checked, curating isn’t exactly a hot trend.”

           Jungkook scrunches his nose in a way that has you wondering if what you just said was somehow absolutely adorable. He certainly thinks it was.

           “Well, there are a number of reasons.” He glances sidelong at you as you gather your things to head back to the storage space. “But mainly because it felt right.”

           You frown. “That’s your reason?” Jungkook nods, amusement glittering in his eyes. “What happens when you wake up and it doesn’t feel right anymore?”

           “Why? Do you know the feeling?”

           Suddenly you know that you’re no longer talking about career choices. It’s only confirmed when Jungkook slows to a stop, hoisting up the bucket of supplies and facing you.

           “I- no, I love my job-”

           “Haven’t you ever wondered, though?” Now it’s practically impossible to decipher what exactly is going on behind Jungkook’s bright eyes, his long brown hair falling into his face. “There’s more out there, you know. Why do you stay?”

           For some reason, you’re frozen in place. A deer in the headlights, probably reading way too much into this conversation.

           “S-stay?”

           “Yeah,” Jungkook takes a small step forward, as though afraid of scaring you off. “After all this time, you’re still here. Why?”

           Your breath is caught in your throat. “I…” The world stops spinning as Jungkook tilts his head to one side, eyes swallowing you whole as they trace the outline of your lips. Despite not laying a single finger on you, your skin blazes as though he were physically reaching out.

           With a step back, you glare at the floor before taking a steeling breath. “The retirement plan’s great. Hard to pass up on.”

           The sound of your footsteps echo off the walls, listening for Jungkook to follow after you.

           He doesn’t.

~~

           “So, about the gala.” Hoseok stands in the doorway to your hotel room, tie long gone and top button loosed. It’s a rare sight, and yet it never fails to be one of your favorites. “I have a weird proposition for you.”

           You kick off your shoes, not bothering with decency as you fall back on your bed with a groan. “Shoot.”

           “Jungkook has this really prestigious cousin that’s connected to the royal family-”

           “Royal family?” You sit up, frowning at Hoseok.

           “Yeah, like the British one? I think so, at least. Anyway, I don’t remember how she’s connected but it’s a big deal. And apparently she asked for me to escort her at the gala.”

           If blood could run cold, yours is pushing freezing. “Huh. Is that so.”

           Hoseok gives you an apologetic smile. “I know it’s weird and that’s why I came to you, I don’t want to hurt you-”

           “I’ll just go by myself, it’s fine.”

           “No, no. You’re not going alone. Jungkook already offered to take you.”

           You chew on the inside of your cheek, resolve withering at the sight of Hoseok’s tentative hope. You wonder if he would really back down if you asked to go with him. To let Jungkook’s schmoozing cousin find a different date.

           “Just say the word,” Hoseok offers with a fading smile. “I’ll do whatever you want me to do.”

           For some reason, your ears expect to hear the word darling at the end of that sentence. But they don’t, and you know exactly where you can go for that.

           More, huh?

           “That’s fine, Hoseok. Really. What’s one night?”

           Hoseok rushes forward with glee, wrapping you in his arms for a second before backing away and heading toward the door. “You’re amazing, you know that? Absolutely amazing. The guests are going to be in awe of your work.”

~~

           The guests are, unsurprisingly, oblivious to your meticulous work.

           You’re not complaining, they’re not meant to notice it. Your work is behind the scenes, whereas Hoseok’s work is visible everywhere.

           His handywork acts as a constant reminder of him, keeping you on edge as you trail up the flower-studded stairs that are already overflowing with guests. A few give you odd looks as you walk alone, but most are too preoccupied with their own problems to care much for yours.

           You don’t know how he did it, but Jungkook managed to get you all to himself after all. The thought had left an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach all day yesterday at work, hardly bothering to exchange more than a few words with the man in question. It seemed like he had almost anticipated this, content to leave you be. It was when he asked what time he should pick you up that you looked at him, angry at the fact that you immediately admired his outfit of choice. It suited him, which shouldn’t have come as such a surprise.

           “I’ll meet you there,” you had responded firmly, hopefully leaving no room for argument. “Wait for me beside the entrance.”

           It was bad enough that you were going without your betrothed; that another woman was going to be hanging off his arm all night. The last thing you wanted was to create an equally flashy arrival with his apprentice. You were by no means the most popular guests in attendance tonight, but the guarantee of countless cameras had you refraining from taking any chances.

           Now, as you make your way to the entrance, you try to not look too eager. Jungkook is nowhere to be found yet, making you frown, but movement catches your attention in the corner of your eye.

           Stepping from the shadows is Jungkook, looking like he was made for this event. The first thing you notice about him is the wistful smile he gives you, which you return before your mind catches up with what’s going on.

           He looks…immaculate. Not over-the-top, he’s wearing a fairly standard black suit with a thin black tie. Nothing too flashy, but it might as well be an original piece with the way he wears it. His hair has been carefully styled, so unlike the careless mop you’ve seen throughout this week.

           Jungkook moves toward you like a man on a mission while you remain at the top of the stairs, hardly daring to breathe.

           “Hello,” he mutters, coming to a stop before you. “You look…stunning. Absolutely stunning.”

           He doesn’t wait for a response, perhaps already knowing that your tongue has turned leaden in his presence. Jungkook offers you his arm, which you graciously take. Hopefully he doesn’t pay too much attention to the way you’re gripping his forearm for dear life.

           The two of you sweep inside, gaining easy access as you’re well acquainted with the staff. As you pass a long, tall mirror that’s flanked by sphinxes, you can’t help but glance over.

           You do look stunning.

           The red gown you wear isn’t too revealing, not too flashy, but calls attention to you just the same. No matter where you are tonight, Hoseok will be able to find you with ease. The thought fills you with a sick sort of satisfaction. He’ll see you, but he’ll see who’s arm you’re on, as well.

           With Jungkook by your side, you’re a force of nature. The two of you are no longer walking, rather prowling the premises as you make your way toward the ballroom. A few stragglers that are trying to get a peek at the closed off exhibits notice your keen eye and scamper off.

           It’s a new sensation to you, watching those people flee from before you as though you were an enemy soldier on a mission. Perhaps it has something to do with the way Jungkook appears to be smoldering beside you, emitting a dangerous aura that you never realized he could give off. For a brief moment, the silly boy you’ve been actively avoiding this week has vanished. In his wake stands a man with a purpose, the successor to the famed Jung Hoseok, and a legitimate contender amongst art dealers.

           “I’m not used to this,” you mutter as Jungkook continues in his path. His steps are timed perfectly to your own, and you wonder if that’s a mere coincidence or if he’s currently keeping count in his head.

           “Used to what?” Even his voice has turned to a dangerous rasp, smoky eyes sliding over to observe you.

           “People respecting personal space. Usual they all flock to Hoseok the second he walks in the door.”

           The corner of his lips pull up in a smirk. “And which do you prefer?”

           You sigh. “Are you seriously turning this into a competition?”

           You’re almost to the ballroom, but you let out a surprised sound when you veer off course into a deserted corridor just above the stairs that lead down into the ballroom. You realize that he’s taking you across a small overlook which shows the ballroom, a flurry of suits and dresses writhing before you on the level below. It’s a mesmerizing sight, and upon instinct you seek out Hoseok.

           Jungkook notices your search, pausing to allow you to look around a bit more. He studies your side profile carefully. “Is that such a bad thing?” It takes you a moment to realize that he’s referring to the competition.

           There’s Hoseok, sure enough he’s weaving in and out of the crowd. People smile and clap him on the back, making space for him and his companion to get through.

           Jungkook’s cousin, Margaret, stays close behind your betrothed. She even goes so far as to hold onto his hand, offering him a shy smile when he looks back at her questioningly. However, he does nothing to shake her off.

           “Yes,” you answer. Then, “He never took me along with him.”

           “You mean at events like these?” Jungkook stands beside you at the railing, eyes instantly finding the “he” you’re referring to. “I know. You two usually go your separate ways.”

           The nonchalant manner with which he comments this has you turning to face him, confusion clear on your face. “How could you know that?”

           Jungkook frowns, popping his knuckles as he refuses to look at you. “Isn’t it pretty common knowledge? You two are both prominent members of the art community that hardly have time for each other. The rest is fairly simple to figure out.”

           You step to the side, granting yourself enough space to glare up at the man.

           “Fairly simple? Jungkook, I don’t know why you think you can make assumptions about my relationship with Hoseok, but there’s no need to do so. You’re right, we’re both busy. But we’re happy. Why do you seem so intent on making me second guess that? Why is everything a competition with you?”

           You’re surprised when Jungkook doesn’t step down like he usually does. Instead he straightens up, leaning in a bit closer while his eyes bore into your own. You swallow, pressing your nails into the palm of your hand when his gaze tracks the movement of your throat.

           “Calling it a competition might be a bit crass,” Jungkook mutters, voice coming out much softer than you anticipated. “But I guess you can say that. Sure, it’s a competition. As of right now, there are no clear winners.”

           “But what are you two competing for?” You ask, exasperated. “There’s no need to go after Hoseok, Jungkook. You’re getting his position in just a few months, you’ll have the same influence he does now. I don’t understand. Why go to such great lengths? Are you trying to usurp him or something?”

           Jungkook finds a way to step impossibly closer, one hand gripping the railing while the other finds your hand. “Which would you deem more valuable: your hand in marriage or your heart?”

           Dangerous, this is dangerous, your heart chides. Despite the warning, you can’t help but sneer and step impossibly closer. There’s a spark of anger deep within you, and if it wasn’t for your current predicament you would stop for a moment and wonder when the last time you felt such an intense emotion was, but you press on.

           “I wasn’t aware that I had to choose,” you seethe. You swallow a gasp as Jungkook leans in, nose nearly bumping against yours.

           You can see whole galaxies in those eyes of his. Glinting and shining under the light of the chandelier, stars begging for you to come dance. What would happen if you danced under his stars? Something tells you that you don’t want to find out.

           “That’s not an answer,” Jungkook breathes out.

           “I’m sorry, what that not good enough for you?”

           He blinks, an amused smirk painting his features. “You’re angry. Good.”

           “Good?” You sputter out, taking a small step back and finding it infinitely easier to breathe now that there’s some distance between you two. “You wanted me to be angry?”

           Shrugging, Jungkook rolls his neck from side to side, looking casual as ever. As though you weren’t just about to bite his nose off if he were to say one more stupid thing.

           “Anger is an emotion. I count that as a win. Now,” he extends his hand out with a flourish, “shall we dance?”

           “No.”

           “I’d rethink that answer if I were you, darling.” Jungkook makes a point of looking out over the railing, and your eyes unwillingly follow his line of sight.

           There’s Hoseok, spinning Margaret around and around. His smile is wide, and you can hear his laughter from up here.

           He has no idea that you’re up here fighting for your marriage, does he?

           Again, that anger is stoked until it’s steadily consuming you. With a huff that sounds more akin to a grown, you take Jungkook’s hand.

           “One. Dance.”

~~

           One turns into two, and two turns to four. The music lilts and does almost all the work, Jungkook picking up the slack as he moves your through the songs. You can hardly tell where one ends and another begins, all you know is two things.

1.     You’re still angry, however it’s being steadily replaced by confusion.

2.     Hoseok and Margaret stopped dancing a while ago, and they currently stand off to the side trying to make it look like they’re not watching you.

“Your cousin appears to be very concerned about you,” you pant, the dancing finally taking its toll. Jungkook glances sidelong, chuckling darkly.

“That’s probably because she’s not my cousin and I told her she would only have to stay for an hour or so.”

If Jungkook’s hand at your back wasn’t propelling you forward, you’re sure you would’ve stopped dead in your tracks.

“What?”

There’s a twinkle of amusement in those galaxy-filled eyes of his. “She is connected to the royal family; I’ll give her that much. But she’s not my cousin. Just an old friend helping out with a favor.”

You’re not sure if you should laugh or cry.

After a moment, you settle for easing out of Jungkook’s grasp with the excuse to use the restroom. The sound of your heels on the marble floor is drowned out as the live band pick up a lively tune, causing a new rush of people to the dance floor. Somehow you manage to weave your way toward the hallway where you think you remember seeing a restroom sign, unaware of someone hot on your heels.

You’re reaching out for the door when you feel a hand at your elbow. It stops you mid-step, pulling you in an entirely different direction. Gasping, you whirl about to see Hoseok with a grim expression. He doesn’t utter a word, marching the two of you toward a dark corner.

“Hoseok, you scared me!” You whisper-shout, entirely unsure of why you’re whispering in the first place. Perhaps it has something to do with the secluded area he’s led you to, not a single soul in sight.

Once you’ve turned the corner, Hoseok presses your back against the wall, peeking around the corner toward the faint light of the festivities. The sound of trombones and cellos echo around the corridor, making you feel like you’re experiencing a memory rather than living this moment in real time.

When Hoseok turns back to face you, you note the way his hair is mussed. You immediately begin to smooth it out with a frown. He’s usually so meticulous about his hair during events like this.

His eyes soften a bit at your ministrations, but his face is still flushed. “Are you enjoying yourself tonight?”

“I- no…?”

“That’s odd,” Hoseok tilts his head to one side, eyes pinning you to the wall better than his hands. “You certainly look like you are.”

You blink. “I do?”

He lets out a choked laugh, the sound seeming so at odds with his typical demeanor. “Are you that oblivious? The way you’ve been staring at him all night certainly makes it seem like you’re drinking in every moment.”

“S-staring? At who?”

“Jungkook!” You flinch a little when Hoseok raises his voice, but he doesn’t notice as he pinches his eyes shut. “Just…be a little more cautious, ok?”

“I…”

When you’re silent, Hoseok opens his eyes. He lets out a shaky breath, head bobbing to one side in a habit which you’d always found endearing. Now, though, it’s as good as a death sentence as he steps a little closer. Slowly, so slowly you want to scream, his eyes dip down to your lips.

“No,” he mutters to himself, so quietly that you wonder if he doesn’t realize that he’s speaking his thoughts aloud. “Not here.”

Pushing back from the wall, Hoseok steps away and leaves you with a lingering stare before he’s disappearing around the corner. Your ears strain to listen to his retreating steps, but they’re quickly overtaken by the music and chatter of the crowd.

“What just happened?” You whisper to yourself. After a moment, you ease out of the corridor, scurrying toward the bathroom. Flinging open the stall, you stare down at the toilet wondering if you’re about to retch. With the way your stomach is churning, it’s definitely a possibility.

You emerge from the stall a moment later, feeling no better than when you went in. If only you could splash some water on your face, that would probably help clear up your head. However, you’ve still got a few hours ahead of you. The event is nowhere near ending.

The door swings open as you brace yourself against the sink, and you look up in the mirror to see who just walked in behind you. Margaret pauses for a second as she meets your eyes, the door drifting shut at her back.

“I was hoping you were still in here,” she drawls, her posh accent instantly making you want to stand up straight.

“Well, here I am.”

You wince; your voice sounds horrible. Like you’ve been screaming for hours, when you haven’t hardly said a word in the past hour. No, according to Hoseok you’ve been too busy staring.

Margaret chuckles, coming to the sink beside you and running the faucet. “Look, I’ll make this quick. Jungkook has been waiting around for you for long enough, and to be frank I’m sick of hearing about it. If I were you, I’d make up my mind sooner rather than later.”

You’re sick of asking questions, but it appears that that’s all you have for tonight. “What?” You stare at Margaret, who looks almost other-worldly in her deep blue gown. “I just met Jungkook this week, I think you’re mistaken.”

“You just- what?”

It’s nice to see that someone else looks a little confused for once. You thought you were the only one out of the loop, but judging by the look on Margaret’s face, she’s just joined the club.

“Like I said,” you say, leaning one hip against the sink. “I just met Jungkook a few days ago. Hoseok sent him over to assist me in getting everything ready for the gala.”

“But he said…” Margaret shakes her head, focusing in on you once again. “Don’t tell him I said anything to you, alright?”

Before you even have a chance to answer, Margaret is sweeping out the door and leaving you behind in a stunned stupor. Slowly, you turn to face the mirror again. Then, to your eternal horror, a toilet flushes.

Out ambles Scarlett Johansson, who shoots you a grin before promptly washing her hands. “Trouble in paradise?”

You snort, in disbelief. “Yeah. Yeah, you could say that.”

~~

It takes a while to find Jungkook, but then again that may be because you aren’t actually looking for him. No, you’re just floating around the venue in a daze when you hear his voice coming from a parlor to your right. Only a couple of dim lamps illuminate the interior, but you don’t bother to get a closer look as you recognize the other voice.

Margaret.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Jungkook? You just met her this week? You made it sound like you’ve been pining over her for years-”

“That’s because I have!” Jungkook hisses, the sound slithering out into the hallway. “I have, but she’s always just out of reach…”

“And what, you thought tonight would do the trick? Kook…look, you know I love you, but this is idiocy. She’s practically engaged to Jung Hoseok-”

“Jung Hoseok doesn’t know what he has, he’s never understood! I am the only one that really gets it, Margaret.”

“Yeah, well just because you get it Jungkook doesn’t mean you get her.”

There’s shuffling inside the room, causing you to back away into a dark corner to remain unseen. After a moment, Jungkook’s voice rings out again. This time, it’s a bit ragged, almost letting you taste the desperation in his tone.

“Margaret, please. I just- I just need time. Please, just give me more time.”

A pause, followed by a heavy sigh. “Fine. I hate you.”

“Love you, too.”

You’ve just managed to scamper around the corner when the door open and a little light floods out into the dim hallway. The sound of heels walking in the opposite direction of your hiding spot alerts you to Margaret’s retreat, making you wonder what exactly she has planned in order to allot Jungkook more time.

Once a couple of minutes that feel like eternity pass, you sneak out around the corner. Heart pounding and palms sweaty, you stare up at the ceiling as though you’ll find an answer there.

What are you even doing?

Before the answer comes you’re schooling your features into cool indifference and walking slowly toward the open door. It’s easy enough to spot Jungkook in the parlor, sitting with his head in his hands on the chaise.

You rap on the door, leaning against the doorframe as Jungkook’s head shoots up. The panic at your appearance doesn’t go unnoticed by you, but you pretend you haven’t noticed.

“I leave for two seconds and suddenly you’re sulking in an abandoned room?” You chide. “You much be more attached to me than I thought.”

Jungkook’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart. I was just taking a breather. We danced a lot, didn’t we?”

“True.” You stare at him from across the room, thinking back on Margaret’s words. Jungkook has been waiting around for you for long enough. “Tell me, Jungkook,” you stride inside, taking up the seat opposite him. “How come I never ran into you before this week? You’ve been around Hoseok for nearly three years at this point, haven’t you?”

Jungkook nods, his wide eyes completely disintegrating the dangerous persona he radiated earlier. “Yeah, almost three years. We’ve…crossed paths a few times, I think.”

You frown. “We have?”

“Only a handful of times,” Jungkook quickly reassures you, and the fact that he doesn’t want you to feel bad about not remembering him has you only growing more confused. Didn’t you just hate him half an hour ago? “We never spoke much.”

“Oh.”

Words – none of which amount to full sentences – rattle around your brain as you strive to come up with something more to say. Your brain is breaking down, information overload finally getting the best of you.

“Should we go back?” Jungkook asks in a small voice. Who even is the man, to change demeanors so quickly? “There’s still a lot of dancing left to do.” He adds a wink in at the end, regaining a bit of his swagger with every word.

Suddenly the memory of Hoseok’s conflicted face comes back to you, and you scramble to your feet. “No! Uh, I mean…” you look around the room but find nothing to help you. “I need to be more careful. I’ve been careless enough tonight.”

Jungkook frowns, almost getting on his feet. “What’s wrong? Did…did Hoseok say something to you?” When you don’t respond, Jungkook lets out a dry laugh. “Of course he did. Let me guess, he grabbed you as soon as you left my side, right? Jealous little-”

“Jungkook!” You gasp, stalking out of the room as he follows close behind. “He just wanted to protect our image, that’s all.”

“Ha! Really, that’s all? Sweetheart, has anyone ever told you just how oblivious you can be?”

“Ugh, just when I was starting to hate you less.”

“I’m serious! Sure, he might have said something about being careful, for your reputations. But that’s all just a cover-up! Can’t you see?”

The ballroom is just up ahead, and you make a beeline for it. “I see just fine, thank you very much. However, I wish I could’ve seen just how horrible tonight would be with you! I would have never agreed to that stupid bet!”

Speeding up, Jungkook jogs up in front of you to block your path. You step to your right, which he mimics. To the left, and again, he’s there to stop you.

“Let me through!”

Jungkook glares down at you, a fire blazing in his eyes. It reminds you of a dying star, some sort of supernova exploding in those galaxy irises. “No.”

“No?” You push against his chest, scowling when he doesn’t budge. “Jungkook, I’m too tired to play this game. Move aside.”

“Dance with me.”

He says it with such seriousness that you almost agree. “I already said that I can’t.”

“Please.” Bottom lip disappearing between his teeth, Jungkook’s shoulders slump. “C’mon, we’ll go where no one can see us.”

“That sounds like a terrible idea.”

Chuckling half-heartedly, Jungkook extends a hand. “I have plenty of them, trust me.”

~~

What started as one bad idea has turned into multiple.

Jungkook took you outside to some lonely balcony that wraps around the building. The doors are thrust open, allowing for some light as he takes you in his arms.

The music drifts up to where you sway, and you wonder how Jungkook even found this spot. It’s not far from the ballroom, but certainly not a common spot for people to wander off to. You ask him as much.

“I stumbled upon it when you sent me on all those dumb errands,” he explains, smiling lazily at you.

You chuckle, stifling a gasp as Jungkook spins you around. Once you’re nestled safely in his arms, you grin up at him. “I knew those would come in handy.”

It feels like whiplash, going through so many emotions tonight. You were set on loathing Jungkook for the rest of eternity until he managed to snag one of the chocolate fountains from the kitchens and bring it out here. A platter of strawberries sits off to the side, begging to be dipped and eaten.

“Strawberry?” Jungkook questions quietly, already reaching for one. You hum in confirmation.

A second later Jungkook is dipping it with an absurd amount of chocolate and bringing it to your lips. Your cheeks flush, but you tentatively open your mouth, awaiting the delicious-

“Hey!” You swat at Jungkook when he bops your nose with the strawberry, covering you in chocolate. He laughs merrily, throwing his head back at the stars before focusing on you.

“You look adorable,” he coos. “Here, eat.” Again he prods the strawberry at your lips, catching your hand in his as you go to clean off your nose. “Eat, I’ll get the chocolate off your nose in just a second. Patience.”

You roll your eyes, but allow him to feed the strawberry to you. At the first crunch and flood of sweet flavor, you close your eyes and ball up your fists into his suit jacket.

“Ah, so good.”

When you open your eyes again, Jungkook is frozen before you. His eyes alight on your lips, tongue wetting his own, following the way you lick up the extra chocolate. Then he looks at your nose, a forgotten smile on his face.

“Here,” he mumbles, reaching out to swipe the bit of chocolate from your nose. Without a second’s hesitation he brings it to his lips and devours it.

All is quiet. The music sounds more distant that ever, the dull chatter of tonight’s guests hardly registering in your brain as Jungkook’s eyes never leave your own.

Something stirs deep within you, something that goes much deeper than attraction or desire. Something stronger than the anger you felt earlier sparks in the pit of your chest, making you shiver.

The spot where Jungkook touched your nose tingles, and you wonder for a moment if it somehow looks different now. His touch lingers, the feeling sprouting something entirely new.

Jungkook continues to sway with you, the movement as singular as breathing. When he opens his mouth to whisper something to you, you can’t help but listen to every syllable that falls from his lips.

“I…I want you to feel when you’re with me,” he whispers. “I’m not picky. It can be any emotion. But I’ve seen you, how you are with him.” You flinch at the mention of Hoseok, but Jungkook holds you tighter and pushes through. “You’re empty around him. You play the game easily enough, but there’s nothing behind those words. I want you to feel.”

“Jungkook…”

“I know. I know how I sound. But this is all I have to give you, and I thought that if I could just get you to feel something again, it might be worth it.”

You find yourself drawing closer to him, some sort of unknown gravity pulling you together like a moon caught in his orbit. That’s what you are, aren’t you? Completely helpless, thrown into someone’s orbit and hoping that they notice you. Hasn’t that the way it’s always been, ever since you first laid eyes on Hoseok?

But Jungkook notices you. You know, just from the way his eyes widen as though trying to take more of you in, you know that you’re all he sees. He’s blinded, for some reason or another. Blinded by you, enthralled by your silent suffering and digging ceaselessly for a way out. There’s no doubt in your mind at this moment that he’d carry you far away from here if you just said the word.

How your hands wound up clinging to the nape of his neck, you’re not sure. Just as surprising is the painful tone of your voice as you cry out, "Jungkook, this is no way to live."

His hands are at your back, pressing you closer and closer. "I will live like this for as long as you want, darling.”

“Like what?” Are those tears rushing to your eyes? Too many emotions in such a short amount of time, you can’t keep up. It’s been so long since you’ve felt anything so intense. When was the last time? Perhaps there never was a time such as this. “Hiding away from everyone? Looking over your shoulder every second of every day, wondering when it’ll all fall apart?”

“I can live off of these stolen moments,” Jungkook whispers in awe, gently wiping away your tears. “I’ve been doing that for years. But I don’t know what you want, darling. Tell me what you want.”

“Jungkook,” you wriggle in his grasp, suddenly needing to get away, to breathe, “Jungkook, he’ll find out- we can’t do this. What even is this? I can’t…I don’t even know you!”

He lets you go, allowing you walk toward the edge of the balcony as you greedily gulp down air. After a moment, he speaks up.

“You’re feeling again, aren’t you?”

It’s a silly question. It sounds like he’s addressing a child, but it hits a little too close to home.

Feelings, thoughts, desperation and something deep and exciting courses through you. Yes. Yes, you’re feeling. “Yes. But who says I can’t feel with him?”

Jungkook is silent for a moment. “Who says it can’t be me, instead?” He strides toward you, your heart hammering as he gently cups your cheeks. Stars must cry because his eyes are shiny with tears. Gently, so gently your knees nearly buckle, he caresses your cheek with his thumb.

Smiling sadly, Jungkook whispers, “I love you.” He takes a shaky breath. “I always have. From afar, so I don’t know if that counts in your book. I loved you before we shared a conversation. I loved you the second I first overheard you talking to that unnamed painting on the third floor of the gallery back home. You know the one, don’t you?”

You’re not sure he fully expects an answer as he leans closer, which is all the better as you’re completely unable to provide him with one.

“I love you,” he repeats, wide eyes dropping to your lips. “I will love you if I never see you again, and I will love you if I wake up to you every morning.”

As his lips first graze your own, you remember him.

Countless times, that how often you’ve seen him. Passed him in the hallway of the gallery, trailing behind a busy Hoseok. Offering you a shy, sweet smile which you immediately assumed was meant for someone else.

He seemed to good, too kind for you.

But here he is, lips pressed gently to yours with a promise hanging in the air.

He asks for nothing in return.

When he finally pulls away, you gaze up at him with teary eyes. “Why?”

He knows what you’re asking. Why would he bare his heart and soul to you when he knows you’re promised to another? When you’ve never acknowledged his existence before?

Jungkook shrugs, then leans in for a short peck. He pulls back, allowing you to see the stars in his eyes.

“You deserved to hear it, at least once.”

~~

Two Months Later

You have not heard those three words since, and you wonder if you ever will again. Glancing at Hoseok who peers down into the glass case, you don’t think you will. Hoseok will never love you.

He has you. He always has, you’ve been a constant in his life. What’s there to love about convenience?

He’s saying something to the jeweler, but the words are muffled. That’s how it’s been recently. People talk so much, but you hardly hear a thing. They so rarely say anything that matters.

Jungkook has been gone, still working to replace Hoseok, but off on business trips that you know aren’t necessary. Last you heard, Hoseok had sent him off to Mongolia on a wild goose chase for some long-lost painting. Chances are he wouldn’t be back for months.

Staring at the rings below you, you know that by then, it’ll be too late.

Hoseok is planning on proposing soon. You’re not exactly sure when, but it’ll be within a few weeks now. Perhaps sooner, you can’t tell.

When you leave the jeweler’s, Hoseok’s hand finds yours. He gives it a soft squeeze, but you can’t find quite enough strength to reciprocate the feeling.

He doesn’t comment on it.

In fact, the two of you hardly exchange two words until much later that evening when you dine together. It’s in his parent’s mansion, one of several. This is the one you’re meant to inherit upon getting married. The dining room is a bit too dark for your liking, but under the current circumstances, you bask in the shadows.

Hoseok is late to dinner. An uncommon thing, but you brush it off, quietly greeting him as he takes up his place across from you. When he doesn’t respond, you look up.

He’s already staring at you, but that’s not what sends a chill through your bones.

He’s looking at you with that sniper-like concentration that you only saw once before. It’s terrifying to be on the other side of that gaze; something you had hoped to never encounter.

“What’s wrong?” You mean to sound more caring, but the question comes out flat. Hoseok chews on his lip before releasing it.

He’s kissed you since the gala. He did as soon as the two of you boarded the plane, away from prying eyes.

It had been rushed and desperate, and you’d been shocked into stepping back, breaking the kiss sooner than he intended.

You’d stepped back and bumped into Jungkook, who gently caught you. Hoseok merely smiled warmly and explained that he thought you two were alone. Jungkook didn’t say a word.

Hoseok holds up a letter, unfolding it. “You received a letter today,” he responds. “Would you like me to read it to you?”

You frown, reaching out a hand but he’s too far away. “No, I’ll read it later-”

“My darling, I only just now found a post office that sends international letters. I apologize from the bottom of my heart, I hope you didn’t think I’d forgotten you.” Hoseok peeks at you from over the letter, arching an eyebrow. “You didn’t tell me you enjoyed pet names. Let’s see what else my apprentice has to say, shall we?”

“Hoseok-”

“Hold that thought,” Hoseok pulls a candle that burns in the center of the table closer to him, hovering the letter just above the flame. “Let’s continue. Something tells me that we’re just getting to the good part.”

“I hope this letter finds you before the wedding, although I can’t be sure. This post office looks a little sketchy, but it’s my best bet. Love, I told you once that I could live off of stolen moments. I can, I do. But I’m tired of begged and borrowed time at your side. Once was not enough.”

“How sweet. I never realized he had such a way with words.” Hoseok sighs wistfully, making you shudder.

“Run away with me, darling. Meet me in Italy, at the gallery. Come up with any excuse you possibly can – just find me. I’ll try to do my best to find a way out of this place, and I’ll wait for you every day. From open to close, I’ll be there. If you don’t come by the end of April, I’ll know that you decided to go forward with the marriage and I wish you all the happiness in the world. Just don’t forget: I love you. Wow, that was beautiful, wasn’t it? Who knew Jungkook was such a poet?”

Hoseok sighs again, meeting your horrified gaze. In one swift movement, he lets the bottom corner of the letter catch the flame. Smoke curls into the air, and you scramble to your feet.

“Hoseok!” You lunge for the letter, knocking over the candle in the process. With a shriek, you watch as the candle drops to the rug and catches fire. Rushing over, you begin to stomp out the flames.

“Let it burn,” Hoseok mumbles, still staring at the burning letter in his hands. “I always wanted to burn this house to the ground. It seems fitting to do so now.”

“You’ve lost your mind!” You shout, turning toward him once the rug is extinguished and snapping the letter from his hands. The flames bite as your fingertips, the letter unsalvageable. Hissing, you throw it into the fireplace.

“You know what?” Hoseok rises to his feet. “I think I will burn it down. Maybe move into one of those cramped apartments in the city. What do you think?”

“Hoseok, you’re not thinking straight. Let’s talk about this.”

His smile is melancholy, but for a moment his eyes clear up and you catch a glimpse of the Hoseok you’ve known for twelve years.

“Don’t you have packing to do?” With a shrug he adds, “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

“I-“ you stop mid-step. A series of choices flash before your eyes, but all you can see if Hoseok and the out he’s offering you.

Perhaps he wants to get out of this as much as you do.

As you pound up the stairs and begin to throw anything you can find into your bag, you realize that you may never know. You never did get to know the real Hoseok. His thoughts and inner feelings have remained a mystery to you.

When you rush out the door a few minutes later, Hoseok is already leaning against his car. There’s another car parked beside it, and he tosses you the keys. There are no parting words, no longing stares as he marches forward and strikes a match against the side of the house. Without fanfare, he tosses the flame inside the mansion. You watch with unabashed awe as he strides back to his car and hops in. There’s a small bag in the back, certainly not enough to hold his precious belongings.

Hoseok gives you a curt nod, tearing out of the driveway.

You’re gone before the sound of sirens cuts through the air.

~~

The Accademia Gallery is packed today, more so than you’ve ever seen it before. Of course, the main attraction is The David. Tourists crowd around, trying to find the best angle to take a photo, grinning widely.

All of them except for one, who stares up at the sculpture with a keen eye. His dark brown hair is shorter than it was a few months ago when he stood in a similar position.

“Jungkook!”

Somehow, amidst the din of the crowd, he hears you. The stars in his eyes are bright as he turns around, acting as a beacon as you push through the crowd. They gleam and sparkle, rivaled only by the wide smile that overtakes his features. Those eyes, so dangerous yet so lovely. They invite you to get lost in them, to dance under Jungkook’s galaxy.

This time, you think you will.

~~

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