#my hiatus is over. settling into a new space is just taking longer than i thought it would. i am sorry for my absence!
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After I do homework I will be here, truly
#my hiatus is over. settling into a new space is just taking longer than i thought it would. i am sorry for my absence!#my main focus today will probably be fantasy boyos#but we will see when i am around later today#ooc. is this thing on?
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Breathe Again | KTH
~summary: everything in your world has changed. everything, that is, except the boy who still believes there are spirits in the forest. ~pairing: taehyung x reader ~word count:Â 16.6k ~my neighbour totoro au, artist!taehyung, fashion designer!reader, childhood friends to lovers, comfort, fluff, slight angst, slow burn, totoro just wants them to be together ~rating: pg13 ~warnings:Â mentions of burnout, mentions of a toxic work environment, a skipped meal, a tiny bit of blood, being outside in bad weather, heights?
~a/n: hi everyone, long time no see! welcome to my first fic since my hiatus!! this is for the ghibli collab which is being run by @birbdaeâđ this one is for anyone who likes ghibli films, wants some comforting boyfriend vibes from tae or just vaguely chaotic totoro contentđthis one turned kinda long, but I hope Iâve captured the ghibli vibes well! I would love to hear if you read this and what you think! come chat with međ
Taking you over familiar roads, the bus bumped gently against uneven ground. But you didnât so much as blink, cheek resting against the glass which rattled slightly in its pane.
You knew this place.
Something about returning down these roads stirred memories within you, though they tugged more at your body than your mind. The haze of smiles and childish laughter these streets made you recall felt alien to you.
But you knew that if you were to set your feet down in the earth here, they would be able to take you home even with your eyes closed. Your hands have memorised the shapes of the leaves in the forest and the wind would push your hair back like an old friend.
You knew this place, and it knew you.
Thatâs what you were afraid of.
It was as if a tape was being rewound: taking you whizzing back through the exact route you had ridden out of your hometown when you left so many years ago.
Who would remember you? More importantly, who would remember your goals, the way you had rushed away to the city at the first chance to pursue your goals as a fashion designer.
You hoped they wouldnât ask. After all, you didnât know the answers yourself.
Of course, there was the possibility that the town you were coming back to would have changed. There were always new buildings going up in the city, roads closed and the crowds still crawling around like ants. Always moving, never slowing.
But the moment you turned away from thanking the bus driver and settled your feet on the soil, you knew there was no question of this place being unrecognisable. Grass still tufted through at the edges of the road; there was the stream that had always run here, still bubbling merrily and bouncing the odd fleck of light through the grasses it nestled between.
Rumbling into life again behind you, the bus trundled on its way.
First stopping to take a deep breath, you turned after it, feet falling in the shallow furrows made by the tyre marks. As predicted, you gave barely a thought for the direction, your legs easily remembering their way down the short road to reach the market square.
As you moved past the first houses, you parted ways with the stream. It wasnât long after that the road opened into the square and you finally saw another living being.
Though it wasnât a big town by any stretch, there were always people around during the day. Luckily it wasnât market day today, which you were thankful for because the whole town would have been out, and you may well have been caught up for hours by all the people wanting to talk to you.
As it was, three ladies cried out at you from a front doorstep where they were chatting. Hurriedly shooting them a smile, you waved, hoping that would deter them. In the end, you were only waylaid by a couple of questions â how long would you be staying? howâs the big city? â that you could brush off with noncommittal answers.
In that time, you had attracted the gazes of an older couple strolling hand in hand nearby. Gripping the strap of your backpack tighter, you bobbed your head in greeting and scurried past.
Grabbing your phone from your pocket, you picked up the pace. Shooting a quick message to let your aunt know you had arrived kept you occupied with an excuse to avoid a few more staring faces. Perhaps they would think you rude, antisocial, to be walking with your head down and staring at your device instead, but it was comforting in a way. A remnant of your city life, where everyone was wrapped up in technology.
Having braved the main square, you lowered your phone again. Forcing a steady exhale from your mouth, you pressed further through the mercifully empty streets leading away.
The squeak of a bicycle wheel was all the warning you received for the next person you would pass on your journey. Preparing a smile in a hurry, you found yourself staring across at a man you recognised coming around the corner.
Kim Taehyung hadnât changed much, face lighting up in his trademark rectangular grin as he saw you. He had grown into his handsome features in the time you had been away, and you found your smile wasnât entirely fake as he slowed on the other side of the street.
Simple white t shirt hanging from his frame, he was wheeling a bike beside him, dusty bags slung over the top. He fit right in with this place.
He was just opening his mouth when you gulped back your faltering smile, ducking your head again and continuing on your way.
With your feet carrying you slightly faster now, you garbled greetings and smalltalk to the other villagers you crossed paths with. The path sloped downhill as you approached the edge of the town, where houses fell away to make space for the rice fields and farmland. From your road, you could look across the flat terraces that stretched, glittering, to the horizon.
Approaching your own place at last, you had to admit you were glad to see Mei lean out of her window to greet you. The old woman had lived there as long as you could remember, and always had a kind word to say.
But though you returned her wave with genuine care, you didnât stay to talk, instead pressing the keys into the disused lock of your front door. Reluctant from its neglect, it resisted, grating around slowly until finally caving, releasing the door with a groan.
The last time you had seen the inside of this house was many years ago now. Your aunt had raised you here, but had now moved in with her new partner; rather than selling, she had kept the place for you, âin case you ever want to come back or visitâ.
Sliding the door aside with only a few snags, you stood in the doorway, unmoving.
For a brief moment, a familiar yet long-forgotten feeling had fallen over you. With a blink, the notion that a flurry of movement had greeted you from the shadows slipped away easily.
Dust bunnies, Mei always used to say.
Tugging vigorously at dust sheets that covered the windows, you let light stream into the room, at last allowing you to pull the door closed. Despite all that still required attention, you slumped against it.
Sniffing, you swiped a hand across your cheek. Surely it was just the dust irritating you.
While something inside you felt⊠different, relieved, to be back here, a larger part of you resisted that. This was only a temporary waystation. There was no use getting settled here again. This was no longer where you belongedâŠ
If only you had found that in the city. That was supposed to be where you would thrive, forge your life amongst the unforgiving glare of neon billboards and buzzing traffic.
You resented the feeling of ease that crept over you now you were back. Resented the people that were content here, fitting fluidly with the meandering of village life. Like Kim Taehyung: he had grown up here with you, but unlike you he had remained right at home, never erring.
You had tried so hard, forever persistent that the world would bend to your will. That you were destined for greater things than this unremarkable town.
Yet now you even found yourself envious of those who stayed here.
They seemed happy.
A low buzz shot through your thoughts, drawing your attention to your illuminated phone screen.
With a dispassioned sigh, you pushed yourself to your feet. You ought to shift some dust from this place in time for your aunt to come for dinner.
Luckily, the house was empty, the few furnishings shoved away in cupboards. After fishing a broom from somewhere, you swept, and had just pulled the last cushion from the cupboard when you heard the familiar call of your name.
Hurrying forwards and plastering a smile on your face, you tugged the door open to help her; her arms were bursting with food. Still, you were surprised by the urge you got to hug her. After depositing all the ingredients in the small kitchen, you gladly returned her tight embrace.
âMy darling,â she squeezed you tight, âitâs been so long.â
âI missed you, auntie,â you admitted.
Perhaps you had sounded a little too forlorn because she quickly drew you back to study your face.
âHow have you been? Feeding yourself well enough?â
You let out a sound halfway between a giggle and a shriek as she grabbed at your cheek, a gesture that seemed far too familiar.
Brushing her off, you didnât have time to dwell on the sensation her affections had stirred in you, as more voices drifted from the front room.
Of course, she had invited some friends.
By the time you had greeted each woman, dodged questions and laughed at your aunt and her girlfriend bickering from the kitchen, a steaming bowl was pressed into your hands and everyone gathered to eat. This was a scene you were so familiar with, a sight so common in your childhood, but nowâŠ
You shifted, eyes trained on your bowl as Mei told a story of your five-year-old self.
Why was everyone still the same? So nice to you, so comfortable with each other just like always? Your life, your career was seemingly spiralling off course and that guilt still sat heavy on your bones.
How could you retreat back here, accept all this? You should still be working. Not giving up. But you couldnât bring yourself to do that either.
The same feeling lingered even through the clinking of dishes as your guests chipped in to help clear away, and remained in the following silence and dark as you flattened out your futon, curling up in isolation.
You wouldnât allow this to feel right.
Even as sleep finally ensnared you in its claws just to spit you out the next morning, you continued to tell yourself what you should want. You should be missing your job, you should be missing the city. And though your heart wasnât in it, you wouldnât allow yourself to think otherwise.
The sun was high in the sky the next day when you found yourself staring at the blank page of your sketchbook.
I still want to design. Right?
Okay, so, letâs make a design. Design something. Just one thing. Just one idea, so I know I can still do it. I want to know that this is still the right thing.
I can do it.
Your eyes ran down your watercolour palette, each colour stained with others and hollowed in the middle with use. The small pot of water you had prepared sat too, remaining clear as your pen hovered over the paper.
Some time later, it clattered onto the tabletop.
That blank page stared at you for the rest of the day. Your contest continued even as you slurped at the instant noodles you had made. Every time your thoughts strayed outside, they would be tethered right back again.
There was no point running from your struggle. You would go out as soon as you had managed something productive. For now, the packets of food you had brought in your bag from the city would tide you over.
But as certain as you were that you would achieve something, the next day stretched out in exactly the same way.
It was on the third day that a knock at your door broke through your otherwise deserted world inside this room.
Without a second thought to the depressing dinner you were halfway through, you stood up. Only for a moment you hesitated, before conceding that this wasnât the city, and it was more usual to have visitors here.
Padding across the floor, you pushed the door aside.
âY/N! Hi!â
You blinked in the beaming face of Kim Taehyung that greeted you.
âTaehyung!â you returned in genuine surprise, âum, come inâŠâ
Stepping back as you remembered your manners, you cast a look around the room. Unfortunately you hadnât yet disposed of the slowly growing pile of torn ramen packets on the table, but it was too late.
âThank you, you donât have to-â
Nonetheless, Taehyung stepped inside to let you close the door on the cloudy day outside. If he noticed the sad state of your abode, he made no comment.
âI-I just thought Iâd come by and visit you,â he smiled hopefully, âI havenât seen you out since you came backâŠâ
Gulping in the face of his innocent curiosity, you glanced at the floor.
âIâm sorry, I just havenât⊠had the chance.â
Your excuse was weak and you knew it. Either way, Taehyung was quick to brush aside your worry.
âItâs nothing to apologise for! I thought I had just missed you and- well, I wanted to come to see you anyway. Itâs been a while.â
A soft chuckle passed your lips, which curled into a sad smile. With a nod, you looked up at him.
âYeah. It has.â
Though his face was smiling as always, it had softened as he studied you.
âDo you want to go on a walk?â he offered, âit must have been hard, being away from the countryside.â
The thought of your abandoned ramen cooling on the table behind you dissipated in an instant.
The outside was a refreshing thought, and it was as if Taehyung had opened the door to the possibility. Once there was a time you would have headed out for no reason, just for fun. That was something you had left behind, but with the welcoming boy to encourage you, you were nodding eagerly before you could form a reply.
Although the village was no longer bathed in sun, cool air rushing to meet you instead, the breeze seemed to carry some weight away from your shoulders. The route Taehyung began to tread beside you was well ingrained in your feet, but your mind was still waking up to the familiar sights.
âI always loved the view from here,â you smiled, muttering almost to yourself.
Taehyung heard you, though. There was no noise for your voice to lose itself in, except the wind that took your words on a winding path through the air.
Slowing his steps, you eased beside him as well. You had barely left your road, but being so near to the edge of the village, the swathes of rippling fields were never far from view; now they stretched out like a carpet below the higher ground your village occupied.
âWhatâs it like, living in the city?â Taehyung recaptured your attention.
Startled, your eyes turned to him as he remained gazing across the lush greenery, hands tucked casually into the pockets of his loose trousers. His shirt, too, billowed slightly in the playful breeze as you strolled together.
It was those words which brought you crashing back to your senses. The city had been far from your mind, chased away the moment you were reminded of natureâs sprawling cloak across the land. It had been so easy to forgetâŠ
âBusy,â was all you offered in way of reply at first. A slight sigh was whipped away by the wind before you found the words to continue. âThereâs always people doing things, just like here. Only⊠bigger. More. They donât have time to stop and speak to you. Itâs so much brighter tooâŠ
âI like the neon signs,â you admitted, âbut with them, you can barely see the stars.â
While you spoke, Taehyungâs eyes drifted back to you, listening intently. After you stopped, he left silence to settle for a moment.
âIt sounds different,â he replied.
You simply hummed an affirmative, but a large smile was sliding back onto his face.
âBut I bet they love you!â he grinned, face lifting in such eager happiness that it made your heart ache. Wanting so badly to return his joy, you knew you could never fake happiness that genuine.
âNot reallyâŠâ you scuffed your toes against the ground, suddenly particularly interested in the way the dirt cracked around your shoes.
As such, you missed the deepening furrow of Taeâs brows, but he stayed quiet, sensing your inhale as you prepared to elaborate.
âMaybe itâs because I had always dreamed of moving there, but nothing was as easy as I imagined,â you spoke quietly, âI was so stupid thinking everything would be simple once I got a place as an intern. The company took me on, but I havenât got any further.â
A short glance back to Tae showed his brows set in a serious line, mulling your words seriously.
âIâm sure if you keep working hard, theyâll see you,â he smiled, âyou always wanted to be a designer. I know you can be.â
For a moment, his words stunned all breath in your throat. Swallowing harshly, you tore your eyes from his, roughly shaking your head.
âItâs just not going right,â you lamented, âall Iâve done since I moved there is work, I take the overtime and travel for shows at weekends, shadow where I can⊠I feel like I canât do anymore. And still, nothing. Not even a commission, let alone a promotion. I havenât headed a project team once. Itâs likeâŠâ panting softly from the speed your frustrated words spilled out, you paused for a moment, shoulders slumping. âItâs like everyone else knows something I donât.â
âThatâs why you came back?â
His low tone was still light and looking back to him brought you face to face with wide, earnest eyes. Of course, he had guessed accurately. You hadnât quite intended to spill in so much detail what was troubling you, but you couldnât bring yourself to resent it.
Confirming his assumption with a nod, you watched Taehyung cock his head to the side before returning his gaze back across the forest.
By now you were drawing closer to where the trees huddled together at the borders of the farmland. The track was a little less well-trodden here, your feet falling between scattered grasses that pushed upwards.
âI donât think itâs you thatâs the problem,â he twisted his body around to face you, still walking towards the forest.
All you could do was blink, slightly startled at his assertion. Thankfully, he continued, pulling his hands from his pockets and spreading them to indicate the surrounding trees which you were entering.
âYouâre doing everything you can, and that should be more than enough. Thereâs no secret to learn⊠well, maybeâŠâ
âHey!â you elbowed him as he trailed off, âdo you know a secret?â
Mirroring your grin, Taehyung sighed, shaking his head at the ground. You kept your eyes trained on him, as if he might really hold some clue that would solve everything for you. Then he raised his head, fluffy strands of hair falling across his smile-brightened eyes.
âMaybe patience,â he shrugged, âIâm sure youâd get somewhere eventually⊠but also- maybe you should try to value your time more. There isnât just one path you can take, and you can always change.â
âI-I guess thatâs true,â you stammered.
It was something that had crossed your mind, but you had always shoved the idea away the moment you considered it. You knew what you wanted to do, and you shouldnât give up on it. Hearing another say it, out loud, was⊠strangely affirming. But your eyes still fled Taehyungâs gaze, skittering about the trees stretching their hands to the sky.
âEither way,â a gentle nudge at your side brought your begrudging gaze back to your friend, âitâs good to have you back for a bit. Iâve missed you. Iâm sure your aunt has, too,â he quickly added.
Grateful for his offer of turning away from the previous conversation, you relaxed a little.
âIâve missed it here too,â you admitted, âthanks for coming over, itâs good to be out.â
For some reason, as you continued ambling through the forest, you felt no guilt creeping in about time you should be spending working. Instead, you barely felt the minutes passing as you laughed with Taehyung about various scenes from your childhoods. If anything, the small amount of guilt tugging at you was guilt for losing touch.
Eventually, you found yourself reclining in the grass at his side.
âDo you remember when you told me there were spirits in this forest?â you laughed softly.
âHey!â he grinned back, âthey are real!â
Though you giggled along with him, you sensed some defiance in the glittering of his eyes, which made you tail off. Your mouth quirked up at the corner.
âYou really still believe in them?â
You didnât miss the way his eyes strayed from your own, glancing to the grass and across the leafy landscape. But still, he responded.
âI saw them,â he murmured, bringing a fond smile to your face.
âMaybe people out in the countryside really are crazy,â you joked, flopping back to lie on the floor.
âMaybe,â came the chuckled reply.
Taehyungâs shoulder brushed against your own as he joined you on the floor.
Warmth blooming in your chest, you continued to stare across the treetops as they were brushed with the glow of the encroaching sunlight. Something within you longed to capture this moment, grab the warm-tinted clouds streaming across the sky and bring them to earth to rest beside you.
And later, you would realise that was why you had turned to design.
You picked up your paintbrush and brought colour to the white sheet at last.
Too caught up in your seeming breakthrough, with a design almost finished on your page, you were easily busy enough to ignore the way Taehyungâs face crept into your mind. Trying to summon images of the breathtaking evening you had spent, the boy was inextricable from the memory.
The relief and liberation that had flooded you the moment you allowed yourself some respite had come from having him beside you.
Though you were a fashion designer, not a portrait artist, the flipside of the page was steadily filling with sketches of Taehyung. You hadnât been able to capture him the exact way you wanted, his striking features escaping you, but you couldnât hold back from trying at least.
But though you had made some progress on your creative block, you still clung to the shelter of your empty house. The hush of the village provided you with a peace of mind you hadnât even noticed was missing while you were away.
Before you could dig yourself any more holes wondering about the fate of your career, however, exactly the person you had been hoping to see came back around.
Taehyung beamed widely from his perch on your doorstep. That wonderful smile never failed to produce a brighter grin on your own face too.
However, this time he didnât step into your house when you made room for him. Disappointment sunk to your stomach, realising you had expected him to stay.
But his next words killed off any sadness before it could even take root within you.
âPut your shoes on,â he flashed a playful grin, âyouâre coming to mine for dinner.â
âI am?â you snorted, though you were already reaching for your boots.
âYep,â he smirked.
Folding his arms, he leaned against your doorframe while you hurriedly got ready.
âUnless you have plans?â he chuckled, âanother extravagant microwave meal for one?â
Gaping, your head shot up to meet his twinkling gaze.
âYou may be right,â you scoffed, finally closing the door behind you as you joined him on the street, âbut that doesnât make it nice. What would your grandma think of your manners?â
âAnd what would your aunt think of the way youâre eating?â he retorted.
Lips rising into a begrudging smile, you sort of fell against him in a playful nudge. The next moment, though, your eyes grew wider as he slung an arm around you, giving it a squeeze as his fingers nipped at your cheek.
âIâm joking,â he cooed, âI just want you to eat well.â
At least the sentiment was there. About an hour later you found yourself sat giggling in front of a bowl of charred remains that once were food.
âI tried,â Tae was pouting, poking around in his own bowl.
âYou didnât have to try something so fancy,â you hid more laughter behind your hand, âthereâs more room for error.â
âBut grandma told me exactly how to make it,â he frowned down at his dish as if it had wronged him, âI donât know what I even did to mess it up!â
Unable to help it, a fond smile broke onto your face.
âThank you, Taehyung.â
Your words seemed to startle him, as he immediately started spluttering about how you could thank him after he destroyed your dinner. It only served to pull more laughter from you.
âI appreciate it,â you assured him, ânow how about we make something simple?â
His kitchen was stocked with fresh vegetables from the farmlands, making it easy for you to pick some and get to work. Closer to the rice fields than your house, Taehyungâs place bordered with the forest, every window giving generous views on the surrounding greenery.
âDone!â
Turning away from the trees outside the window, which you had somewhat lost yourself in, you found Taehyung stood proudly behind you. In his hands sat a bowl stacked with the vegetables he had chopped.
A look back at your own board showed you had made much less progress.
âLet me finish those,â he placed his bowl down and came to stand next to you. âI think you would be better off doing the cooking.â
Laughing, you agreed and let him take the knife from your fingers. Next, you began to fry your ingredients with the rice that hadnât been a victim of Taehyungâs previous attempts.
Once he was done, Taehyung approached you, sliding the remaining vegetables into the pan. But even as they fell, sizzling, into the dish, he didnât move away from you.
âSmells good,â he complimented.
Muttering a brief thank you, you kept your eyes on the food as you stirred it. You could almost pretend the heat in your cheeks was from the warmth of the stove and not the way he leaned closer as he smelled your cooking, such that his chest pressed up against your back, face hovering above your shoulder.
But before your resolve could wear thin enough for you to look around at him while he was in such painfully close proximity, a rumble interrupted your thoughts.
Taehyung instantly pulled away, apologies spilling from his lips. You, on the other hand, burst into laughter.
âWas that your stomach?â you cried.
âMaybe,â he mumbled, rubbing a hand across his middle.
Chuckling, you shut off the stove.
âLuckily, dinner is ready,â you grinned.
Taehyung eagerly dashed to grab plates, letting you pile them up with food.
Together, you brought your steaming meals to the front room where Tae pushed open the front door, inviting you to sit on the step.
âI guess it is kind of late,â you said after your first bite, âno wonder you were hungry.â
Proving your point, the boy beside you was already wolfing down his meal. Smiling to yourself, you dove back into your own food as you stared across the darkening valley, stars now painted in the mirror-smooth surfaces of the rice fields.
Sweet as always, Taehyung thrust a basket of the vegetables into your arms before you left â though, of course, he was walking back with you. Still, you were embarrassed to note the hint of resentment at his wonderful actions, as it meant you had one less excuse to see him again. In truth, you didnât want to leave at all.
But you still thanked him profusely, and you meant it. His kindness warmed your heart, and guilt twisted inside you at the thought of taking his actions to mean anything further.
He probably felt sorry for you, lost as you were. Meanwhile he had found a place in the world, and he was happy here. Almost certainly he only wanted to do some good for an old friend.
But for tonight, you couldnât help but indulge in the flutters Taehyung set off in your heart, a few more sketches joining the others before you fell into bed.
Since you arrived, you hadnât been very productive. You knew this, but bringing yourself to care was becoming difficult. No, you were too busy enjoying finally getting some peace and time away from the job that had been tiring you out.
But even in your time off, it seemed too much to ask of them to let you rest.
â-so I need your assessment of the project before we can move forwardsâŠâ
Your bossâ voice crackled over the line as you held your phone passively at your ear. Gulping as she rambled on about the practicality of your colleagueâs design â when she was the one who had given the project to him when you really wanted it â you stared blankly at your notebook. Only one page remained filled. The simple design you had been thrilled with a couple of days ago now crumbled in your estimation.
Tell her you canât do it. This is your time off. At least ask to be paid for it-
âOf course. I can do that,â you replied automatically.
Instant alarm bells started ringing in your head. You had to stick up for yourself before too much was loaded onto you-
âWonderful, Iâm sending them over now. Thanks a lot,â your boss spoke, line cutting off before you could so much as open your mouth.
Huffing, you flopped back onto your bed, where you had been sleeping peacefully before your ringing phone rudely awoke you. But you didnât rest there for more than a few seconds before you were rolling yourself off and staggering over to dig out the laptop you hadnât touched since leaving the city.
Opening up your emails, you saw the most recent one from your boss, but unfortunately your inbox was also rammed with several others you hadnât bothered to check. You supposed you could never have expected to be completely away from work.
Resolving to check them later, you clicked on the first of the files from your boss. Already, you groaned, seeing that the plans were more extensive than you had believed over the phone.
You couldnât deny that you accepted this too easily.
But then again, you never wanted to be seen slacking. Maybe if you did this, it would finally be noticed and you would be in line for the next promotionâŠ
That was what you told yourself the last time too. And the time before that, and before that.
At this point, even the thought of actually being promoted didnât fill you with the excitement it should. It was all you had worked for, and yet all you could think of was how much more work it would mean.
Attempting to shove away your heavy pile of thoughts, you focussed back on the task at hand.
Wrangling your brain into action, however, proved difficult. You realised too late that it should have been lunchtime, hurriedly trying to make yourself something while it was already halfway through the evening, sky darkening beyond your window. But even though it was getting later and you had been working all day, you had got next to nothing done.
Even the pattering of rain on your roof which began early on did little to ease the stress creeping back into its familiar residence in your brain.
Your head was spinning as you sliced up a pepper, not able to focus on the simple movement of your hands. You knew you should be looking at your work, but even as your mind hovered around the matter, you were unable to think straight as everything proved a dead end.
A sharp pinch shook you from your haze.
Hands stilling, you looked down to find a sliver of red already growing of your fingertip. Cursing, you threw down your cooking, turning to the sink.
The blood was swept away with the stream of water from your tap, showing only a miniscule cut, but your finger shook anyway. Staring down at the small line, even though it was clean now, your breath hitched in the back of your throat.
The rain, relentless on your roof, was the only sound muffling the sobs which left you as you hunched over the basin.
Letting your hand drop, you clutched onto the edge of the surface. You felt like a child; your computer was filled with demands, your head occupied with work, but you just didnât want to.
Why couldnât they just leave you be?
Some instinct within you had set your feet moving before your mind could catch up. Abandoning your laptop where its screen still passively illuminated a square of your desk, you were slipping shoes on, practically throwing your door aside with your sudden desperation to reach the outdoors.
The rain which immediately hit your skin hardly occurred to you. All you could manage was to breathe deeply in the saturated air.
You had succeeded in rediscovering some of the inspiration that led you to your current path; it had always been the beauty of your hometown, the countryside with its vast fields and open skies, the peace and the fury of the elements.
And maybe you had forgotten it, but now you knew it again you wanted to seize it with both hands. The pull of work only made you resent it more.
You had to escape.
And so your feet were taking you down your road, slipping on the track which had already begun turning to mud under the onslaught from the heavens.
You had barely left the glow of the last house on your street before water was running in streams down your cheeks, mingling with the salty tears that had been falling before. Hiccupping, you wrapped your arms around yourself.
Though you sniffed, you didnât bother to wipe at your face.
But already the ruthless pelting of raindrops began to batter away the frustration that had been stirred in you. Still breathing heavily, you pressed unflinchingly on, your mind only able to focus on stepping forward through the storm.
Despite your lack of destination, your pace was rapid and soon you were stumbling between trees as you reached the forest. Here, the hammer of rain was lighter, plucking at leaves harmlessly and filling the air with the hollow chorus.
The oppressive feeling from sitting caged by your computer was fading. But now you werenât sure whether your shaking was from your outburst or from the cold. Only, you couldnât exactly bring yourself to care.
It wasnât until now that your pace slowed in the least. Finally you were away from the pressing weight that had begun to crush you, even if it still remained waiting for you at home.
Weaving between trunks, your speed waned at last, allowing your fingers to trace along the wisened and cracked bark of each one. Even when you needed to blink repeatedly to gain clear sight from unshed tears and raindrops collecting on your lashes â even when your frame shook from head to toe, hair plastered against your skin â you finally felt free.
Having nature roar around you cast the demands of work, something that once loomed over you, far out of your sight.
Feet still tripping forwards, all it took was a toe catching on a root before your knees were meeting the earth.
Down here, the raindrops jostled the smaller plants that coated the forest floor. Looking up, you tried to wipe your hands, though it was fruitless against your sodden trousers.
But you paused in your motion as you caught sight of something.
Ahead of you, some tree roots twisted upwards, sculpted into a small arch. Although beyond that, you could see little, you rose slowly and stepped closer to it.
A few leftover tears leaked from your eyes, but they were indetectable as they slipped among the rainwater. Taking no notice, your eyes remained ahead as you reached the strange opening.
Ducking, you padded inside, not hurrying at all. It inspired a stiller pace for some reason.
The first thing you were aware of was the lack of rain falling on your back. Instead, the air was perfectly calm, only the distant pattering of water on leaves a reminder of the storm you had previously been in.
A few more steps and you found yourself in the centre of what appeared to be a large tree. Bark walls encircled the generous space, though it was obscured by the abundant greenery coating them decadently.
Tiredness was rapidly seeping into your bones now, and all you could think of the moss was how soft it looked, so tempting to your drooping eyes.
Exhaustion masked any shock you would otherwise have felt, then, when your eyes fell on a larger shape lying near the far wall. But this was not part of the tree, nor its foliage. Drawing nearer, you found it appeared to be furry. Enormous ears lay flat on the leafy ground where its head lay. Its round belly rose taller than you did from the ground, even though it was horizontal.
Staring through your bleary eyes, you merely chuckled at the unusual sight.
The creature inflated with each deep breath. It was sleeping.
You were sure you must be too, given what a funny dream you were having right now. But you were still so tired.
Without further thought, you let yourself tumble to the ground so you could rest, propped up against the forest creature. Indeed it was as soft as you had imagined looking at it.
Everything was peaceful as sleep embraced you at last.
Taehyung jerked awake, the whole house seemingly clamouring in his ears.
Eyes wide, he threw off his covers, though he wasnât sure what he expected to do. The wind was hurtling through the air outside, hitting his house like a freight train. Windows shaking in their panes, bullets of rain still spattered against the glass.
Pulling his blanket with him, Taehyung retreated towards the main room. Although he stayed back from the windows, he still looked out, watching the vague shapes of dark trees as they attempted to uproot themselves in the blustering air.
He couldnât deny being a little unnerved by the sudden ferocity of the weather. With a calming breath, however, he reminded himself of the true form of the wind. The image of the grinning cat brought a smile stretching across his own lips as well. It had been years since he had seen it, or the spirit Totoro and their friends.
But even if he was a child then, he clutched onto those memories, trying to keep them vivid as possible.
He was about to settle down on the sofa to wait out the noise when a different shape made itself known in the window.
Doing a double take hard enough to give him whiplash, Taehyung managed to keep himself from staggering backwards in shock. Blinking determinedly, he kept his eyes fixed on the familiar form as it drew closer into the light from his porch.
Although he knew they were real, he still found himself struggling to comprehend it.
This wasnât another dream, another memory or image on his canvas. Pushed against all the walls in his study, and his bedroom too when they overflowed the space, images of the forest spirit were strewn about his living quarters. He could never forget it butâŠ
Why would it come back?
A moment elapsed, Totoroâs huge frame blocking out much of the view behind them as they stared blankly down at Taehyung the way they always did. The pandemonium of the wind died away.
And then Taeâs senses kicked back in, and he was sprinting to the door, hurrying into the night because there was something else.
Totoro was carrying something-
No.
Someone.
Breathless, he stood on the step, taking in the figure cradled in Totoroâs arms. It was you.
He remained still, so Totoro moved forwards, towering above him. But Taehyung could never be intimidated, knowing this gentle giant well enough. Instead, his eyes remained on you as Totoro lowered you towards him.
You were clearly asleep, eyes shut and chest rising and falling evenly. But it was how on earth you came to be so, in Totoroâs arms, and now in front Taeâs house, that had his brow furrowing deeply.
Though water no longer sat on your skin, the dampness of your hair and clothes remained. You must be freezing.
However, as Tae hurried forward a couple more steps to reach out for you, a warmth engulfed him. Recognising the forest spiritâs familiar magic, a hint of a smile returned to his face.
Though Totoro now relinquished their grip, the magic remained cocooning you, making Taehyung able to hold you in his arms as you had been rendered weightless.
Straightening to their full colossal height, Totoro backed away. Still feeling that comforting magic wrap around the two of you, Taehyung smiled as he bowed, as deeply as he could with you in his arms. Totoro gave a little bob of their own before turning away.
For a short moment, Taehyung watched the spirit amble away. But you were the priority. Unsure how long the magic would last, he backed into the door to push it open and get you both inside. Looking around in mild panic, he settled on the first place he thought of and moved through to the bedroom.
Setting you down on the futon, he pushed your wet hair away from your forehead with his palm.
Next, he hovered for a moment.
Eventually he stood back, swallowing nervously as he watched you. It was still the middle of the night, and raindrops were splattering the window again, though less harsh than before.
Of course, his concern was still unsatisfied. If Totoro had found you, that could only mean you had been in the forest. But⊠why? At this time of night, you should be safely tucked away inside.
Well, at least you were now.
Sighing, he turned away to retrieve the blanket he had dragged to the living room. Collecting a few more cushions for good measure, he placed them down on the closer edge of the futon. It was big enough for him to sleep here too, while still leaving some distance between you.
After depositing his bedding, Tae made one more trip to the cupboard, bringing out a duvet. Though thick, it was very light. He liked to think of it as his âcloud duvetâ.
Seating himself, he leaned across to you to cover you with his favourite duvet, but stopped short.
The hair lying on his pillows was already drying. So too were your pyjamas.
Sighing, he shook his head lightly and continued to throw the covers across your sleeping form.
He would get his answers in the morning. Settling down himself, Taehyung turned onto his side so his back faced you. For now you were okay, Totoro had made sure of that.
But aside from what had happened to you, one thing plagued his mind the most even as he closed his eyes.
Why had Totoro brought you to him?
Beams of light hung lazily in the air, only warded off by the thin fabric of Taehyungâs curtains. Blinking in the hazy morning, the usual hushed whisper of the forest greeted him, no trace of the furore of last night.
Except for the weight on the bed beside him.
Rubbing one hand across his face, he looked down at you. You remained nestled against the pillows, hair fanning out as the light cast it into rich colour. When his arm fell, it was perilously close to you, but he didnât move it away.
Taehyung knew there was breakfast to be made and explanations to be had once he left the comfort of the bed.
Still, he lay unmoving, content to simply let his gaze roam your resting features. Warm light glowing against your skin showed it invitingly soft. His dark eyes traced your eyelashes where they rested, the gentle slope of your lipsâŠ
His breath hitched, a slight gasp lost in the fabric of his pillow.
At the first inclination of your lashes shifting, bringing you closer to wakefulness, he retreated, sliding out from his blanket and away to the kitchen. A puff of air left his lips as he willed his feet to fall noiselessly, leaving you to slumber.
He could easily blame the moment on his hazy awakening from sleep. He could pretend he only stayed next to you for want of staying warm in bed for a while longer.
Except he knew it would never be the truth.
You were truly breathtaking to him, painted perfectly in the dreamy morning light. All he could do was steer his thoughts away and turn them to preparing some breakfast.
And that was what roused you: the vague scent of steaming rice in the air and the odd clang of kitchenware from the other room. Rolling over as your eyelids cracked apart, you registered the indulgently soft duvet you were under, the scent of rain on the pillow.
It was already light, so you eased yourself to sit, stretching out your back with a quiet groan.
Vaguely, you remembered the sound of raindrops in the air, earth biting at your knees and a giant tree. It had certainly been a strange dream, you thought as you opened your eyes.
And paused, blinking.
This wasnât your room. Hell, it wasnât even your house.
From among the fluffy mountains of bedding, you slowly took in the place. Somehow, you werenât exactly panicked by the position you found yourself, oddly comforted by the domestic sounds of cooking. You could guess where you were, and became more certain when your eyes fell on a row of assorted paintings propped against the wall.
When Taehyung poked his head into the bedroom, he found you awake and sat up. You had moved to the side of the bed, and were sitting cross legged as a hand delicately skimmed the surface of the nearest painting.
For a moment, he didnât announce himself. Breathing deeply, his eyes rested fondly on the back of your head, ignoring the painting. He could see the artwork anytime, and he knew it well.
A vibrant green landscape of the forest, he had put Totoro and the other spirits dotted about the trees. Some were barely there, signifying how they protected the woods even though almost no one believed in them at all.
You must have sensed him, however, for you were snatching your hand back from the image and whirling around to face him.
âYou alright there?â he smirked gently at your surprise.
âYeahâŠâ you murmured.
Noticing you chewing your lip, looking between him and the painting, Taehyungâs small smile faded a little. The confused tone you spoke with placed a light frown in its place.
âYeah?â his low voice echoed.
Pushing himself away from the doorframe, he drew closer, hands dug into his pockets.
âThat⊠that thing, in your drawing,â you frowned, staring right at it. âI dreamt about it.â
âAh,â understanding dawned on Taehyung and he sat down beside you. Neither of you complained at the closeness as his leg pressed flush to your own. âThatâs the forest spirit I told you about. Well, all of them are. But thatâs Totoro.â
His tone had been anything but ridiculing, but still you looked around to find his expression genuine, eyes slightly creased at the corners in a vague smile.
âI-I donât understand,â you breathed.
âYou didnât dream about them,â he leaned closer for emphasis, shifting to face you better, âit was real. Do you remember coming here?â
For a moment, you frowned, eyes escaping his as they seemed to look far away while you tried to recall. You came up empty.
âNoâŠâ
âThatâs because Totoro brought you to me,â Taehyung went on, patient as before, âlast night, they brought you in from the storm.â
He paused for a moment, wetting his lips as he gauged your reaction before carrying on:
âDo you remember why you were out? Did you fall asleep in the forest?â
Again, that look took over your face. Your gaze fell to your hands as they played with the hem of the duvet, untangling the mass of memories from the night before.
âI think⊠I must have doneâŠâ you frowned, then suddenly started. âOh crap! I remember why I left! My boss is gonna kill me-â
Panicked, Taehyung placed his hands on your knees as you carried on rambling, starting to push the blankets away in your sudden rush.
âHey, hey, Y/N slow down, whatâs going on?â
âI-I got a call from work,â you hastily explained, âthey need me to approve a set of designs and I said it was fine even though-â
âI thought you took the time off work?â
âI did, I did but I said yes anyway but then I just felt so⊠so- argh! I was so stressed all over again and I just wanted to get outâŠâ the clarity you lacked the night before made you cringe as you pictured yourself walking down the muddy track in just pyjamas, heading into the trees in the middle of the night. You chuckled drily, âmaybe not my wisest idea.â
âNo,â Taehyung had to agree, inclining his head, âbut youâre here right now. Work doesnât need you this instant.â
Pulling your lower lip between your teeth, you werenât quite sure if he spoke the truth. Either way, you decided you didnât much care when the boy broke into a shy grin and offered a hopeful âstay for breakfast?â.
He had managed to cook without mishap this time, resulting in a self-satisfied grin which you could easily tell translated into an I-told-you-so.
Happily full after his meal, Taehyung told you that he was going to do some painting, but that you were welcome to stay. From someone else, you might not be sure if they meant it or were just saying it out of politeness, but Taehyung had already offered you a set of clothes and a hot drink.
You certainly didnât want to go yet, and you dared to hope he wanted you to stay as well.
So you accepted his offer and settled on the sofa with a steaming mug of tea and a book you had plucked at random from the shelves. Meanwhile, Taehyung turned on an old fashioned radio, which crackled softly into life in the corner before filling the atmosphere with calm music.
You knew for a fact Tae had a study in his house, but he brought his materials out into the main room anyway. Neither of you needed to say much as he set to work and you sipped your tea, going about your tasks in the mutual comfort of shared space.
He was facing the window as he worked, allowing you a view of his progress.
In the end, you became far too distracted to make it far through the book at all, too busy watching colour fill up the blank spaces. The work had already been started, with just a wash of colour occupying the canvas.
Now, you got to watch as from the blur of colours and shapes came the form of a forest. But this one was not bathed in the glory of day, the colours dark and muted instead.
Smooth brushstrokes left in their wake a body of water, glittering stars scattered within it. The limited palette of the night-time scene was fascinating to you. At last, Taeâs brush was picking out the form of the spirit again, peering from behind the trees. Your mouth curved up into a smile.
As Taehyung stood back, brush clamped in his mouth as he assessed his work so far, you scrambled to flip over a chunk of pages in your book. Burying your face in it, your cheeks burned as you realised you had been staring this whole time.
âWhat do you think?â
Making an effort to look as surprised as possible, you turned back to find Tae beaming at you.
âI think itâs wonderful,â you assured him, âthe colours, the water⊠everything.â
His eyes lit up, smile only growing wider.
âThank you! You really think so?â
At your indulgent nod, he turned back with renewed enthusiasm to complete the side of the forest which had yet to emerge from the melange of colour.
âShall I get us lunch?â you offered not long after, noticing that you had now been there for a few hours.
Though Tae was engrossed in his painting, nose almost pressed to the canvas as he detailed some leaves in the moonlight, he graced you with an appreciative smile and a nod.
Slipping away to the kitchen, you soon reacquainted yourself with where everything lived and got to work. It wasnât long before your limited cooking skills had done their job. A brief call to Taehyung had him emerging in the doorway with a smile on his face, taking the bowl gratefully.
Once again you settled happily on the front step, taking in the tranquil forest. It had calmed to a mere breeze since the night before, the leaves rustling, bright green in the midday sun.
âI can see why you like it here,â you commented between mouthfuls, âit must be a great place to work.â
Taehyung hummed around his mouth of food, but soon swallowed and replied, head tilted as his eyes scanned the forest.
âIt inspires me.â
âSo does Totoro,â you smiled. However, it couldnât be denied that you were digging for more information after your strange encounter.
An understanding smile curved Taeâs lips and he set his chopsticks down briefly.
âYouâre right,â he nodded, âfor me, theyâre tied together with the forest. I havenât seen them since I was younger, but this place keeps them alive in my imagination, I suppose.â
âWow,â you breathed, âno wonder your work is so good, hmm? You really love this place.â
As you dug back into your food, Taehyung turned his smiling eyes to you. Though you didnât meet his gaze, he held his breath. Chewing his lip, he wondered why he couldnât shake that feeling that had overcome him that morning.
Eventually, he forced himself back to his food, shuffling an inch or so away from you for good measure.
âI think itâs important to have a good place,â he stated, still staring at his dish when you looked around, âa place that works for you, when you need to be creative. Iâm sure you can understand that.â
âYeah,â you nodded vaguely.
But though you never disagreed, you werenât sure you did understand. And it struck you that perhaps you should. Previously, you had only cared about what your job title could be. Never had you focussed on where you were, convinced you could continue to force out designs the way you always hadâŠ
But right now, you thought you might share Taeâs view, the motion of the leaves and the gentle sun caressing them stirring up your long lost desire to create.
And the presence of a warm figure beside you, full of support, had you wishing perhaps a little too much that you could stay.
You couldnât delude yourself for much longer, unfortunately. Inside, Taehyung was happy to leave your dishes on the side and his brushes out as he offered to walk you home.
However, when he proposed taking you âthe scenic wayâ, you dared entertain the thought that perhaps he might like having you around, too.
Though you hadnât been here for some time and thus your sense of direction was shaky at best, you could tell that Taehyung was leading you around to the other side of town, albeit through the forest. Neither of you were in any hurry to get there, instead enjoying the dappled shade of the woodland path, reams of laughter drifting through the tree trunks as you joked together.
A subtle ache had begun in your cheeks from the constant smiling. But as Tae broke from the path, insisting on building an âinstallation art pieceâ, you couldnât bring yourself to stop.
Instead, you eagerly joined Taehyung as he ran giggling through the trees, scouring the floor for twigs and stones. If anyone else had seen you, it would certainly appear childish. Especially when Taehyung encouraged you to give him a leg up so he could reach a particularly beautiful fallen leaf that was lodged in the crook of a tree branch.
It was when he leapt down again with a subtle huff that you both burst into laughter again. Through the slits your eyes became as you creased with mirth, you caught a glimpse of a broad, boxy smile that robbed you of breath in an instant.
In front of you, Taehyung was chuckling, that beautiful smile still stretching at his lips. And once again, the urge to capture this moment swelled in you. You couldnât take your eyes from him, simply trying to commit the image to memory with the unattainable hope that it would never fade away.
As he wiped one last tear, you hurriedly turned away, cursing the intense speed your heart had reached.
âWhatâs your plan, Van Gogh?â you joked, hoping he couldnât see your sudden nerves.
âNot sure,â he replied happily. Fingers catching your wrist, he tugged you further on. Striding away towards the path ahead of you, he would never see the heat blooming in your face at the contact.
Flustered, you hurried after him, only to run into his back as he stopped without warning.
âTae? Is-?â
Poking your head from your spot behind his shoulder, you too rapidly quieted.
Though it was not long since you last saw Totoro, the memory was a haze of rain and tears. Now, though, you gulped at the sight. The spirit was waddling along the pathway, each step somehow regal with its commanding size.
With wide eyes you turned to Taehyung. His side profile showed an awed smile, a shallow breath escaping him.
When the creature turned around, you stiffened. But beside you, Taehyung simply stepped forwards, leaving you staring between him and Totoro. Bowing briefly, Tae moved even closer while you hurried to observe the same manners.
Unaffected, Totoro simply turned, continuing their ambling journey through the woods.
Frown taking over your face and unsure what to do, you looked to Tae at your side. However, his expression had split into a joyful grin that obscured his eyes within creases, and before you could even open your mouth, he was dashing to follow the spirit.
Taken by surprise, you could do nothing but follow, tripping through the undergrowth until you spilled back out onto the path.
Laughter was bubbling from your lips before you could control it. Taehyungâs giggled soon mingled with yours in the air.
On reaching the spiritâs side, you slowed somewhat. Totoro accepted your presence with barely a look your way as they kept plodding onwards. What were small steps for the creature, however, took you at a surprising pace that had a sweat breaking from your forehead after a while.
âTada!â
A flourish of Taehyungâs arms accompanied the first breaking of the companionable silence you had journeyed in.
Following where he gestured, your eyes lit up at the sight of glittering water.
âThis was where we were going?â
âYes! Do you remember it?â
A bounce had already entered Taeâs step, and he spun to talk to you while skipping backwards.
âOf course I do!â you nodded.
Just outside this village, the stream grew broader, creating a wide, flat brook. Countless afternoons of your childhood had been spent here, hopping over the stepping stones that lay above the waterâs surface, or splashing in the shallow depths at the edges.
Despite the fuzzy heat of the evening, you found a little extra energy to race after Taehyung to the bank.
Within moments, he was kicking his shoes off and hopping into the glistening water. It only just came up to his ankles, close to the side where blades of grass drooped over, their tips disturbing the surface.
Sitting down for a breather, you also slipped off your shoes and dipped your feet in. Soothingly cool, the water brought relief against the heat you had worked up on the walk.
However, you never got much chance to rest as Taehyung stuck a hand directly under your nose. Scoffing, you took it anyway. In some small retribution, you aimed a kick in his direction once he had dragged you up, sending droplets of water showering over his legs.
Of course, you were instantly shrieking as he sent a playful, but much more powerful, wave of water back your way.
Though you were still aware of the large form of Totoro standing nearby, you were inexplicably more comfortable with their presence now. In fact, they faded to the back of your mind as you let yourself become preoccupied with the impromptu water fight that had your breathless laughs carrying over the rippling stream.
Eventually, you collapsed back onto the grassy bank, head thrown back as you breathed, heavy and exhilarated. For a moment, you simply let a gentle breeze soothe your skin.
When you looked back up, Taehyung snapped his eyes away from you so fast you were hardly sure you had caught them in the first place. Just as he turned away, a shadow fell over you.
Tipping your head back, you saw Totoro looking back down at you.
Before you could speak, let alone turn to face them, a bundle of sticks had fallen at your side, a couple rolling right up to your fingers where they rested. Picking the rough objects up, you looked back to the spirit quizzically. They were the sticks Taehyung had collected earlier, eventually carried here with him and left on the ground.
Then Totoro moved away, downstream a little.
Approaching you, Taehyung bent down to retrieve a few for himself.
âI think they want to play,â he smiled.
Totoro was watching you, almost expectantly. A smile quirked over your lips.
âI know this game!â
Side by side, you and Taehyung padded upstream a few paces, selecting a stick each.
âThree! Two! One!â he counted loudly, although you swore he dropped his stick a little before the last was called.
âHey!â you shoved him playfully, but he was already taking off jogging towards Totoro.
You had lost sight of the slim shapes moving through the water, so you walked after him, groaning as Totoro held up the gnarled stick Taehyung had chosen.
âThatâs not fair!â you tried to sound indignant, even going so far as to fold your arms, but laughter betrayed you.
Several rematches later, the sun was beginning to dip in earnest, and you had to admit it was time to get home. You were still closer to Taeâs house than yours, given the roundabout route you had taken.
As the light painted the sky darker, a few wisps of grey swirling below amber, the laughter died down at the prospect of going back home. Either way, there wasnât much you could use as an excuse to stay here longer, so you slipped your shoes back on and began making your way over the stepping stones.
Taehyung went first, more steady on his feet while you slipped, taking a moment to get your footing on each one.
Totoro, on the other hand, simply watched you go.
Once, you turned back to give them a shy wave, but they didnât move. Despite the muteness of the spirit, you thought it looked a little affronted at your leaving.
Iâll come back you promised silently with a smile.
Staring at the wonderful creature, you understood the fond firmness of belief Tae had described feeling about the forest spirits.
But with your eyes averted, your next step was not calculated. Suddenly there was no rock beneath your foot, leg slipping straight down the side as you whipped your attention to the front too late.
âWoah!â
A gasp left you as Taehyungâs exclamation faded from the air, his hands steadfast around your waist. Gulping at the sudden contact, you dared to look up. Dark eyes bore right back into your own and they werenât breaking away.
âYou okay?â
When the words left his lips, you felt them as breath drifting across your own more than you heard them.
You tried to nod, afraid that your noses would touch, close as you were. Somehow, though, you couldnât look away. The hypnotising softness within his irises had you unsteady all over again as you placed your foot carefully back on stone.
Still, his hands stayed in place. And you didnât want them to move away.
Tentatively, you breathed in, unable to help your gaze dipping to Taehyungâs temptingly plump lips.
He canât have missed it. But you realised too late, returning your gaze to the safer, yet still perilous, territory of his eyes. Only to find him slightly further away, adamâs apple bobbing in his throat as his eyebrows raised slightly.
Snapping your mouth closed, you stiffened as horror set in. Was he uncomfortable? Had you revealed yourself?
But still he didnât back away-
A yelp punctuated the air, startled from your own lungs with the impact of your body against Taeâs chest. In a split second, you were landing against something firm with a large splash in the relative quiet of the evening.
Gasping as cold water covered your back, you jerked only to find a strong arm circling you in its grip. Below you, a low rumble of laughter vibrated through your body.
Eyes widening, you realised you were lying pressed flush against Taehyung.
As the grip around you loosened, taking some warmth with it, you looked into Taeâs eyes which were once again creasing with mirth. He struggled to sit it the shallow stream, eventually ending up with you straddled on his lap as his arm remained looped casually around you. Despite the water, icier now in the deepening evening, heat was flaming in your cheeks.
Eager to twist around, you laid eyes on what had caused your unfortunate impact. Totoro stood in the water, unmoving as ever although they were quite clearly the only culprit in sight.
âWhat-?â you spluttered.
Still laughing, Taehyung helped ease you off him, keeping your hand clasped in his own as you both clambered to your feet. Water dripped from your hair, your legs and shoes sending miniature downfalls over the stepping stones as you returned to them.
âHave we angered the spirit?â you stage whispered to Taehyung, who laughed loudly.
âSorry Totoro, we have to go home,â Tae sent a bow towards the creature. They blinked back.
Giggling slightly, you took a tentative step onto the next boulder. No sooner had you moved than the wind suddenly picked up around you, the waves in the brook growing more prominent as chill air ensnared your damp skin.
Taehyung cursed under his breath.
âItâs freezing,â he muttered, gritting his teeth.
Subconsciously, you huddled closer to him as he looked around â first at the path ahead and over the stream, then back towards the forest. Both of you seemed to gravitate to the latter, where leaves rioted in the air above the treetops.
As you stood in the wind, Taehyungâs arm had lifted to absently hold your waist. You felt him tug lightly.
âMaybe we should go back to mine. Itâs still too far to your place, we might both freeze.â
âAre you sure?â you breathed, though you wanted to agree there and then, run back to his warm bed and not move for several hours. The way your voice came shakily with the shivers that began only confirmed Taeâs plan, and he was already setting off towards the riverbank.
âVery sure. Letâs get inside.â
Not needing to be told twice, you followed hastily, only connected to Tae by your fingertips that clutched each other as he led the way.
A particularly violent gust had your shoulders hunching. You were nearly at the side of the stream, and so you kept your focus for a moment longer on the rocks in front of you, before at last your feet met the grassy floor.
But on looking up, the sight that greeted you on the bank had your mouth hanging open.
What looked like a bus was standing in front of you. Or what would have looked like a bus, if not for the fact that it was smiling.
But after the day you had had, you made no protest as Tae told you it was okay to get in, merely accepting your fate with an incredulous sigh.
Taeâs hand on the small of your back as you stepped inside didnât go unnoticed by you, but you let it slide. It was nice to be out of the cold, so you busied yourself with getting cosy on the seats that ran down the sides of the interior.
A jolt announced your departure. Looking around, you found Totoro hadnât joined you, but watched you leave from the bank instead.
Turning back to the scene in front of you, you were surprised to note that no wind touched your frozen skin any more, despite the fact the windows on this bus seemed to be⊠well, non-existent. Beside you, Tae was leaning out slightly with a giddy grin lighting up his face, hand splayed in the air.
With a smile creeping onto your own face, you resigned yourself to the unexpected journey. Folding your arms against the side, you too stared out across the sky.
The treetops were far beneath you now, your whole village visible though it looked toy-sized from here. Wisps of clouds flew close overhead while your vantage point showed the glaring sun peeking above the horizon, illuminating your face with the last of the dayâs warmth.
A glance to Taehyung showed his face bathed in the glow as well, painting his skin with molten gold that danced in his eyes and streaked through his hair like brushstrokes.
You couldnât tear your eyes away.
Mindless to the risk of him catching you, you allowed your gaze to trail along his features, cast into striking light and shade. You longed to reach out, touch his hair. It looked indulgently soft, waving in a light breeze as you travelled.
All too soon, shadows were once again flitting over his cheeks as you were brought closer to the ground.
Awed smile remaining on his parted lips, he turned his face to you. Though you swallowed, you didnât bother to look away, simply returning a smile. If possible, his seemed to soften even more at this.
Landing was softer than leaving the ground, barely a bump letting you know you were back on the earth. Since you sat down, lethargy had crept up on you, revealing how spent you were after the day outside.
Taehyung stood while you were still blinking groggily from your position laying on your arms.
âCome on,â a low chuckled accompanied the sliding of arms around you.
You complied, finding your feet and stepping out of the bus with a yawn. Without a moment to spare, the vehicle? creature? had leapt from the ground, soon whizzing out of sight.
Until you climbed the steps to Taehyungâs house, the cool air waking you sufficiently to slip off your shoes, you hadnât noticed that your clothes had dried.
âThey never stop with the surprises,â Taehyungâs low voice chuckled, making you look up.
You had been standing just inside the doorway, ogling your sleeves as if you might blink and find them soaking wet again in an instant. Meanwhile, Tae stood in the living room, one hand dug into a pocket as his other fingers slipped open the top button of his shirt with practised ease.
Gulping at the sight, you fixed your eyes back on his.
He simply smiled. Under one arm he gathered a blanket that had been strewn on the couch, but it was his free hand he held out to you, fingers outstretched, inviting.
Grateful, you stepped closer, inhaling the comforting scent of his home. You hadnât noticed it before, but though your clothes were dry they still gave off the odour of river water, making the aroma of paints mingled with herbs and spices more prominent by contrast as you closed the space between you.
Hand closing around the offered blanket, you broke eye contact for the first time.
âThis feels like a dream,â you murmured, head shaking lightly.
A beat of silence as Tae released his grip on the soft fabric, transferring it to your fingers.
âIt does,â he whispered.
Had you looked up, you would have found his eyes still trained intently on you. So close, he bit his tongue, not trusting his voice further given the way his throat closed up, lending his deep voice more gravel than usual.
Stifling a yawn, you looked around, already pulling the blanket over your shoulders. Despite the quick journey and drying off, the chill of the outside lingered a little.
âWhere do you want me?â you yawned.
Tae cleared his throat before he spoke, stepping away though he left his fingers tangled loosely with your own.
âThe bedroom is fine, i-if you want to, that is,â he hastened to add, âweâre both tired. Letâs get some sleep.â
While normally your manners would have you protest at least a little, you had to admit how sleepy you were becoming. It was impossible to deny that Tae had just proposed exactly what you wanted, and so you let him lead you to the bedroom, where you sunk onto the futon as he gathered some clothes from his wardrobe.
Folded beside you, you handled them with reverent fingers, slipping out of your clothes once Tae had excused himself for the bathroom.
You reversed your tasks once more before you found yourself bundled in comforting blankets, the weight next to you a steadying influence in the darkness. Though you longed to reach out for him, trace your fingertips over his skin, hold him close-
you really were just too tired.
And maybe it was testament to the security of his presence that you were unable to act on your desires, sleep claiming you strongly instead, taking you quicker than you had managed in months.
Waking up, however, was a different story.
While the exhaustion of yesterday had muffled any thoughts beyond wanting to sleep, today your mind was overflowing even as you first blinked at the pale light.
Beside you, Taehyung still lay sleeping. You were simultaneously aware of his peaceful beauty, and the panic with which you found yourself revelling in it. It seemed you had become a little too attached to him. Maybe this had all been a mistakeâŠ
Also in the back of your mind, though rapidly elbowing its way to the forefront, was the fact you hadnât been home for an entire day. Your phone was still there; who knew how many work calls you might have missed?
Though you couldnât quite find it in yourself to regret turning away from it, you couldnât shake the itching responsibility to get back and see what mess awaited.
But at the same time, that terrified you beyond belief.
Most of all, however, your mind was swimming with colours. Shapes, snippets of designs floated in your brain. You werenât sure when the last time that had happened was. You used to dream up your designs, when you were still beginning your career, desperate to create.
And though there were many scary things waiting for you, this revelation, this newfound desire to design again, lent your limbs new strength as you rolled from the bed.
Reclaiming your clothes from last night was first up; Tae had draped them over kitchen chairs to air out, but the smell lingered a little. It didnât bother you too much, so you dressed quickly.
It was then that the soft creaking of floorboards caught your attention. You turned just in time to see Tae emerge from the bedroom, eyes barely cracked open while his lips were puffed out in an adorable pout, clearly only half-awake.
Stopping with an arm on the doorframe, hair flopping haphazardly around his face, he squinted across at you.
âWhere are you going?â his low voice still rumbled in his throat, dry with disuse this morning.
Silently moving, you quickly padded across the floor towards him. None of the curtains were open yet, the watery morning light permeating the air tentatively.
In this dim space, you had the courage to lift your palms to press against his cheeks. On meeting his big eyes that stared across at you, you swallowed.
âThereâs something I have to do,â you breathed, gaze skimming down his face as he watched you. Despite his bewildered state this early in the day, he was beginning to become more alert at your words.
Slowly, his fingers lifted to wrap gently around your wrist.
âOkay,â his voice remained husky, âbut⊠youâll come back?â
You tore your eyes from where they had focussed, without your consent, on his lips, to return his intent stare.
âOf course I will,â you whispered, mouth turning up at the corners.
For a moment, your breathing hitched. Such close distance between you two was becoming frequent, but you were far from used to it. Your cheeks still heated up, breath shallow as you savoured the softness of his skin under your hand.
Your eyes slid closed. In the relative darkness that encapsulated you, it was easy to think wishfully, imagine leaning closer in this timeless space where no one would seeâŠ
But then the moment passed, your hand slipping inconsequentially from his lingering grip.
Bringing your hand back to your side, you squeezed a smile his way and took a step backwards.
Then another.
He remained standing there as your pace sped up, and soon you were out of the door. As it closed behind you, you swore you could have seen a large pair of eyes blinking from between the trees.
Knowing what you did now, you couldnât write it off, but neither did you pay any more attention, feeling a strange weightlessness as you trod the path to your house.
Going the short way this time, it didnât take you long as you walked the tracks beside the glistening rice fields and farmland. Workers were already out, having risen with the sun which had fully emerged from the trees by now. As you passed, you exchanged nods and waves, smiling and giving good greetings to all you looked up at you.
Quiet fell again once you reached your road.
A nervous chill ran through you, but there was a thrill to it.
Approaching your house, you found two figures standing outside. With a frown, you drew closer.
âAuntie?â you called, making the women turn to you, âMei?â
Meiâs warm face formed a friendly smile while your aunt beside her gawked. Recovering from her shook, she hurried to you, grasping your hands as your received her with confusion.
âMei told me you were at Kim Taehyungâs? Is that true?â
With a glance to the old lady, you confirmed.
âThatâs a relief,â your aunt laughed, âI came around yesterday to find you gone! You even left your phone!â
She was holding it out to you. Smiling weakly, you suddenly felt the weight of her watching you. Thankfully, Mei began to walk back towards her house, lessening your audience.
Sure enough, when you powered your phone on, it was instantly lighting up, ping after ping flooding your screen with notifications, calls and messages.
A frown made your auntâs concern clear, but even you surprised yourself with your confidence as you simply grinned back.
âI have it under control,â you assured her, and walked up your steps to the door.
Inside, you took a breath, but could put it off no more. Beyond the fear of what you were about to do, lay the images of your home, the expansive fields and forests that had always been your source of inspiration. And now, a giant, friendly forest spirit-
And a hand, resting in yours.
The dial tone filled your ears, and you took a seat. Your notebook was still atop your desk, thrown aside to make way for your laptop, sat open with its screen dead. Nor had you disposed of your instant food wrappers-
âY/N,â a stern voice crackled through the line. Your boss. âWhere are those plans I asked you for?â
Though she couldnât see you, you brought a smile to your face, summoned to lend you confidence.
âIâm sorry,â you quickly apologised, already hearing the reprimand on her lips, âbut something came up. And I⊠I have something to tell you.â
A sigh.
âGo on.â
âWell⊠Iâve been thinking. I appreciate all the opportunities Iâve had with this company, but I donât think itâs taking me where I would like to go-â
âY/N!â you werenât sure you had ever heard so much emotion in your bossâ voice. Her voice rang with pure shock, âDo you mean to say-?â
âThis is me, handing in my notice,â you spoke clearly, âthank you.â
Silence stretched out for longer than you could comfortably take. But, should you need to, you were ready to repeat yourself. Somewhere on the other line, you heard a muffled voice trying to get your bossâ attention, but it was soon gone again. You knew well the dismissive wave that person will have received.
âVery well,â she spoke at last.
And with that acceptance, you felt like you were floating.
There was a spring in your step even as you cleaned up the mess you had left behind, the whole time itching to get your hands on your pens and brushes.
You had quit. You had quit!
For so long, the notion would never have crossed your mind, the prospect of giving up too terrifying to consider. But you werenât giving up, not at all. Maybe you were giving up on what you thought you wanted. Or what you had wanted, once upon a time, but now no longer fit you.
Instead of guilt or fear, you were filled with excitement. You knew what you wanted.
And you were halfway there.
This, however, was the easy part. No matter how hard it may be to rebuild your career, starting afresh, none of those obstacles scared you quite as much as the next thought to enter your mind.
Taehyung.
But you had promised him you would come back.
And perhaps one upheaval was enough for one day, you thought as you gathered your sketchbook, your paints. You could afford to hide from your feelings for a little longer, right?
You certainly couldnât deny them, but you were afraid to admit them. Who knew what could happen then? You dared not hope for them being returned, and concluded to let yourself enjoy time with Tae for now.
After all, you were so excited to create, an almost alien passion that you were thrilled to welcome back.
And you could think of no one better to share this joy with. Taehyung was an artist too; he would understand.
Not far from Taeâs house, back past the open farmland, a familiar shape dominated the path in front of you. The sight of Totoro brought a smile to your face, reminding you of all the magic you had discovered in this place since you returned.
What you hadnât quite expected was for them to be waiting for you. Unsure what to do, you settled for a quick bow and a quiet âhelloâ as you continued.
Walking past the spirit, it just watched you for an extended moment before following along behind.
Taehyung was at the kitchen window when you arrived, and saw you coming. A boxy smile lit up his face before it disappeared from the window, emerging only seconds later in the doorway, a pair of paintbrushes clutched in his hand and dripping onto the porch. The day had bloomed into gorgeous full sun, and he held his hand up to shield his eyes from it as he watched you arrive.
A glance behind you confirmed Totoro was still following.
âThey were standing around outside all morning,â Tae began talking, coming down the steps to meet you, âthought they wanted me to come into the forest, but when I tried, they walked even further down that way. What do you thinkâs got into them?â
âBeats me,â you shrugged, âbut they seem happy enough now.â
Sure enough, Totoro had retreated a little further towards the treeline, still watching you both. For a moment, you and Tae both twisted around, looking back at the creature.
âAnywayâŠâ you laughed.
Joining in, Tae led the way back inside, wiping his brushes against his trousers.
âDid you do what you needed to?â he asked, back facing you. The art supplies in your arms hadnât gone unnoticed, and he was pulling out a chair to place next to his own setup.
âYeah,â you hummed, setting your things down, âI, er- I quit my job.â
Brows lifting, Tae straightened up to face you. But his mouth soon slid into a bright smirk.
âOh yeah?â
âYeah,â you breathed. You couldnât keep your own beaming smile away from your face.
His eyes lingered on you for a moment longer.
âSo youâre going to be around here for a while, then?â
âYeah,â you smiled warmly, âI think I am.â
Over the next few hours, the image you had hoped for came to life. Sitting side by side, you and Tae both went about your works in pleasureable silence. Him, hidden behind an easel and periodically popping his head around it to survey they scenery, and you, meagre sketchbook propped on a cluttered desk.
It was perfect.
And finally, your creative energy was allowed to burst forth. For the first time since you were a student, you drew. And drew. And drew.
Pages seemed to fill themselves up, and if some thoughts were still unpolished, at least they were here, proof that you had never lost your spark, the spark which the fruitless toil of your old workplace had stamped out. Maybe you had just lost your way, temporarily.
And for that short afternoon, you were able to push all other thoughts from your mind. Especially those pertaining to a certain fluffy-haired artist with a boxy smile.
But even having half your worries settled was a relief.
That night, you returned home. Though you slept easier than the last time you were in this bed, you were ashamed of how much you longed for Taeâs presence next to you. Even when you had slept silently, barely touching save for the odd brush of an arm or leg when you rolled over, it was a grounding relief to have him there.
Luckily, you hadnât even had to ask him yesterday if you could drop by again; he had leapt on the chance to invite you himself.
So you didnât dwell on the way you reached out when you woke up, expecting to find a warm presence under the blankets with you. Instead, you happily climbed out of bed, ready to repeat your routine from yesterday.
This time, you at least brought some snacks along from your kitchen.
Today brought a large dose of d             ja-vu along with it. Totoro was once again waiting for you, expectant. It took you off guard, but slipped your mind once you were back at Taeâs side, happily working for the remainder of the morning.
But Totoro didnât give up. Those large eyes blinked through the window when the two of you went to prepare food.
âDo you want attention?â you chuckled, knowing you wouldnât receive an answer.
âWhat do you say?â Taeâs low voice grew closer, âfancy a break outside?â
You were prevented from replying when his breath fell across your neck, causing you to stiffen. But he simply leaned over, hooking his chin lazily on your shoulder as he dropped another spoon into the sink where you were washing up.
âY/N?â he frowned when met with your silence, small pout forming as he drew back to look at you.
You shook yourself.
âWhat? Oh, yes,â you tripped over your tongue, âthat sounds great. Looks like Totoro would appreciate that too.â
With a laugh, Tae wiped his hands on a cloth.
âIâll go get changed.â
Not long later, you were surrounded by trees, bathed now in deep shade that shielded you from the midday sun. Totoro had seemingly been satisfied by your attention, as they had followed you on your walk without protest.
Not that you were sure how they would protest if they wanted to, but your point stands.
It was strange how accustomed you were to the spirit by now, no longer staring over your shoulder at the creature. Instead, you were preoccupied by Tae as he ran, giggling, towards a tree with the perfect low-hanging branches for climbing.
By the time you had reached him, he was dangling, sloth-style, so that he was level with your head. His grin was just as goofy upside-down, and you swatted at his soft hair as it hung off his reddening face.
âBudge up,â you grinned, trying to hoist yourself up as well.
You had succeeded in getting onto the first branch when Totoro appeared by the base of the tree. Smiling down at them, you waited for Tae to clamber up to the next bough.
The moment you looked back to him, however, you felt a strange tug, shrieking when you found no branch below your feet. Looking about wildly, your feet flailed, scrabbling for any kind of purchase.
From where he hung onto a branch, Taehyung looked down sharply in a panic, but instead found you level with him.
Wide eyes stared at one another until the same feeling clutched at Tae, stomach dropping as he was miraculously lifted from his perch.
A look behind you showed Totoro still right there, also floating. One arm was holding you, Taeâs hand clutching the other. As you blinked in mute shock at the spirit, they opened their mouth, stretching into a wide grin. Laughter floated past your lips at the sight.
Somehow, you dodged the branches crossing your path as you ascended, though they grew sparser as you carried on upwards. Unlike your journey in the bus, you could feel a breeze coursing past you now.
Gaping in disbelief, you found Tae again, reaching out to him. Your expression was mirrored on his, and he eagerly entwined your free hands, smile softening as you were brought closer in the air.
And as you floated high above the ground, you somehow felt little difference than the way you always did when Tae was beside you, hand resting in your own.
You laughed again, a sound of pure joy, forgetting the spirit carrying you as you simply watched his eyes. Among the cool breeze, you felt a slight tickle of warmth from his breath.
As you watched, his smile slowly melted from his lips, captivated instead by your stare, though he looked no less peaceful.
But just as distant hills could be revealed beyond the thinning leaves, you felt a warm hold loosening around you. You hadnât even noticed it, but now it was retracting, you could feel the spiritâs magic clearly and panicked. In an instant, you had grabbed the nearest branch, which was surprisingly sturdy.
In your rush, your hand had slipped from Taeâs, but a shudder of the branch told you he had also caught hold of it.
The calming magic slipped away completely.
Now clutching the tree for dear life, you looked down, but Totoro was nowhere to be seen. Squeezing your eyes shut, you sucked in a deep breath. Then, with a surge of energy, you swung further onto the branch, ignoring the way it lurched, to give you a steadier sitting place.
âYou alright?â you panted.
Only a grunt answered you as Tae copied your action.
As he righted himself, you caught an uneasy wobble in his expression, instinctively holding out a hand.
âCome here.â
Gladly taking it, Taehyungâs shoulders lowered, easing a bit once you were connected. Waiting for him, you shimmied a short distance to rest where the branch met the trunk. On reaching you, Tae pressed closer, shoulder up against your own.
Smiling fondly, you twisted so you could reach your arms around him loosely.
âItâs okay,â you whispered, though you had no idea what had just happened.
âNot a fan of heights,â he murmured, but his deep voice did not seem panicked.
âAt least itâs pretty,â you pointed out, nudging him the smallest amount to avoid toppling.
You were right. Between picture frames formed by intertwining branches, the land stretched out in the brilliant light. The same land that had always inspired you. How could you bring yourself to be irritated at Totoro for bringing you here?
âYou seem remarkably calm,â a chuckle rumbled through Taeâs chest.
âIâm not sure anything else can surprise me now.â
He smiled, turning towards you. In this position, though, you were intimately close, his nose barely an inch from your own once he had twisted to look into your eyes. Inhaling sharply, you gripped the tree trunk harder.
âWhy do you think they brought us here?â
âI donât know,â you whispered, not trusting your voice, âbut they wouldnât hurt us.â
âI know that,â Taehyung nodded, gaze dropping enough for you to deflate again.
Still holding onto each other like it was the most natural thing, you eyed the landscape for a little while longer, allowing quiet to elapse.
But this proximity wasnât doing you any favours. Though you were sure Tae was oblivious, your heart was beating erratically, unable to forget his presence. All the thoughts that had occupied you lately were flooding in, except this time there was no escape.
Literally.
You were stuck in this tree next to the man who drove you crazy any time he looked your way. The man you were dying to spend time with the moment you woke up each day. The man who accepted you, supported you, reminded you where your true passion lay.
No, you couldnât take this.
âHey,â a low voice brushed your earlobe, just moments before a gentle finger found your chin, bringing it up.
You had barely noticed your gaze falling from the view in front of you while you lost yourself in useless circles of thought. Now, you couldnât look away as shining dark eyes captivated your own.
âWhat are you thinking about?â Taehyung asked, lips curving upwards.
Licking your lips, you tore your eyes away. This was too much for your poor heart.
âY/N?â he ducked to catch your eyes, brow creasing.
You were too weak for this boy. As soon as you saw the slight displeasure on his face, you longed to chase it away.
You sighed.
âYouâŠâ
Nearly as quiet as the breeze, you half hoped your admission would be carried away. But as you bit your tongue, daring to look up, you knew Tae had heard. His smile grew, though he tilted his head questioningly.
âWhat about me?â
âWouldnât you like to know,â you grinned, looking away again. This was too risky. Maybe he would buy the joke and drop it before you made a fool of yourself-
âI was thinking about you too.â
You blinked.
âYou were?â
He hummed, not a trace of insincerity in his large eyes as he nodded.
âWellâŠâ you picked subconsciously at your sleeve, âwhat were you thinking about?â
âNosy,â he griped, taking a light swipe at your nose with his forefinger.
Succeeding in bringing a smile to your face as you jerked your head away with a laugh, he sighed, shuffling closer indetectably.
âI was wondering⊠maybe Totoro did this because of you-â just as you gaped indignantly, he hurried on â-because of us. They put us up here⊠together.â
âOh. Yeah,â you nodded, brow furrowing.
âBut even if- if thatâs not the caseâŠâ
Taehyung trailed off, bringing your attention back to him. He wet his lips, sucking his lower one between worrying teeth before meeting your eyes again.
âWeâre alone and, well⊠I was wondering what it would be like to kiss you.â
That knocked all the air out of your lungs. You sucked a shaky breath, then out.
âWhat it would be like?â you echoed.
He nodded, gulping.
And then something snapped. Unable to stand it anymore, you slid your hand to his jaw, the next moment surging forwards, lips colliding desperately.
His arms tugged you closer instantly, pulling you against him, fingers grasping at your waist hungrily as he titled his head to meet you. And heaven, it felt amazing. His lips were as soft as they looked, leaving you lapping at them with desire as his caressed yours just as dreamily, simultaneously intense with longing pressure and gentle with reverence.
Caving to him completely, you let yourself mould to his embrace. The flowing wind around you, the rustling of the leaves were utterly driven from your mind by the maddening nudge of his tongue, prompting you to deepen the kiss.
But though your fingers still clutched his jaw desperately, you were forced to break the kiss, falling away giddy and breathless.
Tae lifted a hand to your hair as well, stroking it soothingly as he pulled you close again, foreheads touching.
âWellâŠâ you were the first to recover your voice, âI think it would feel something like that.â
A smile burst onto his face, dominating your vision, no doubt a copy of your own ecstatic grin.
Almost immediately, a strong wind ripped through the treetops. Wiping the smile from your face, you gripped tighter to both the tree and to Taehyung.
He looked around.
Following his gaze, sure enough, you were met with two large eyes staring innocently back at you.
A beat consisted of you blinking at one another in silence, before a gasping laugh burst from your mouth. Clapping a hand over it, you met Taeâs eyes, also finding him dissolve into laughter that creased his eyes.
âLooks like you were right,â you chuckled as the warm magic began to lift you once again.
âYou were just waiting for us to confess!â Tae cried.
But the wide smile on his face as he pulled you closer mid-flight showed he was far from outraged.
That night saw you tumbling at last into the same bed as Tae again. You didnât want to leave, and you never had to.
Over time, you moved in, your own things settling among the paintings, brushes and pots that filled Taeâs house. Your house.
Every day you would see the trees, feel the wind through your hair and the sun glowing between the forest branches â the very place where you had finally given into the love binding you.
And you drew. You drew and drew, and designed until you were making a name in your own right. People would ask you about the distinctive round creatures that commonly featured in your designs. Of course, you would always laugh, a familiar sound that you shared with your boyfriend, keeping the unofficial secret between yourselves.
The two of you knew, not only the forest spirits, but the dust bunnies and flurries of wind that snaked through the roof timbers on the coldest nights. And then, you could always be assured of a warm presence beside you, to hold you through the night.
But above all, you got to see that glorious smile every day, never fading from your life.
You could breathe again.
Thank you for reading! If you want more, there is a follow up drabble here. Come chat with me if you enjoyed it!
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First Kiss #3: Turning Onto You
Author's Note: This is the last story I got through before real life so rudely burst my fic-writing bubble. I'm taking a little hiatus from writing fic but will still be around to talk all things skating. (And also I do still have the other prompts and hope to get to them someday!) Thanks for reading and sending in prompts for the challenge!
Prompt: Mariah catches some feelings and makes the first move on a surprised Nathan
She doesnât tell Nathan about Romain until itâs all over, her ring finger bare and dark circles under her eyes. She rehearsed it on the plane ride back from France, wanting to sound steady and fair, to allow space for Nathan and Romainâs friendship - even if itâs more than her ex deserves at the moment.
âWhy didnât you tell me?â Nathan asks.Â
She shrugs. âHeâs your friend, you know? I didnât want to put you in a weird place.â
âOkay, but . . . youâre my friend. It wouldnât have been weird - I would have been here. You know that, right?â
She does, but it is nice to hear him say it anyway.
A few weeks later, Mariah has to almost physically restrain him from helping her move. Itâs sweet, she supposes, but also exasperating. Â
âI would never be able to show myself at a rink again if Nathan Chen pulled a muscle trying to lift my couch,â she tells him. âIâm hiring movers, weâve got it handled.â
Of course, he shows up anyway, with McDonalds for her and pizza for the movers. She thanks him and then shuts herself in the bathroom and cries, touched by his thoughtfulness and infinitely grateful not to have to go through the day alone.
That night, standing in her new living room surrounded by boxes, she tells him that she hadnât realized just how much she needed this fresh start, a home where she wonât picture Romain at every turn. He slings an arm around her shoulder and says that he thinks the place feels like her.
Nathan doesnât push her to go back to the rink, but the delighted smile he gives her when she walks back in after nearly a month immediately calms her nerves. He sticks close to her that day - sheâs guessing he wasnât intending to spend the session just working on spins and footwork - and sheâs grateful for his calm presence as she gets her feet back under her.
There had been a small part of her worried that their friendship wouldnât be able to bridge the gap that Romain had left, despite Nathanâs assurances; she had wondered if Romain had been right when he joked that he was the glue that held them all together. Sheâs relieved to find that this, at least, is one thing she did not need to worry about. That she and Nathan are the same as they have always been.
Except, if sheâs being honest, that is not exactly true.
She first realizes it as they are settling in for one of their semi-regular movie nights. He is absently scratching Nalaâs head with one hand and clicking through the titles on the screen with the other, one dark curl falling across his forehead, brow furrowed in concentration.Â
She is unprepared for the warmth that suddenly fills her chest as she watches him.
He senses her staring, looks over at her. âWhat?â
She blinks, shakes her head. âNothing. Find the movie already, gosh.â
âYouâre just going to fall asleep anyway,â he mutters. âNot sure what the rush is.â
She tosses a throw pillow at him, and he laughs, and her traitorous stomach explodes in butterflies. She sinks back into her corner of the couch.Â
Well, shit.
â
For a while, she tells herself that she is imagining things. That she and Nathan are friends, have always been just friends, and she is getting contentment confused with something else. She certainly does not have a crush on Nathan, of all people.Â
And her heart doesnât occasionally skip a beat when he shoots her a half-smile after Raf says something that theyâll make fun of him for later, and she never finds herself lingering in their goodbye hugs just a bit longer than she used to. Never fights the urge to call him just to hear his voice.
Really.
They are chatting on the bench as he changes out of his skates. Nathanâs frustrated with his lutz, annoyed with Raf, and sheâs relieved that sheâs able to coax a laugh out of him before he takes off for the day. She steps onto the ice, still smiling a little, and finds Adam watching her.
âOh my god,â he says. âWell, this is an exciting twist.â
âWhat?â She busies herself with some arm circles, already feeling the color creeping into her cheeks.
Adam leans forward and whispers conspiratorially, âYou and Nathan. You like him.â
âStop,â she says, trying to keep her voice even. âI do not.âÂ
âOh my god,â he says again. âYouâre blushing! I canât believe you didnât tell me. When did this start? This is great for you. Iâve told you a hundred times, youâve gotta get under someone to get over someone.â
She smacks him on the shoulder. âNo one is getting under anyone, because nothing is going on.â
âWell why not? The poor guyâs been in love with you since he was a teenager. Throw him a bone.â
âHe has not,â Mariah says reflexively. âDonât be silly.â
Adam is suddenly serious. âMariah. You have to know that Nathan is crazy about you, right? If thereâs something there, why donât you say something?â
She tilts her head back and stares at the rink ceiling for a moment. âOkay,â she sighs. âLetâs say I have been having some . . . feelings.âÂ
Adam nods. âWhich I have said, because itâs true.â
âIf - thatâs if - it is true, thereâs too much on the line to do anything about it. I need to have a decent Grand Prix to have a shot at the Olympics, and I already got a late start to training this year because of my messed up personal life. And you know what this season means for Nathan. If I said or did something and screwed things up, for either of us, Iâd never forgive myself.â
âSo your plan is what, exactly?â
âBasically just ignore it until it goes away?âÂ
Adam lets out a long suffering sigh. âAnd force me to watch you two idiots flirt and pine everyday for months? This is a terrible plan.â
âAsking you to coach me was a terrible plan,â she grumbles.
He laughs. âGirl, I am doing you a favor and you know it. Now letâs get to work.â
She rolls her eyes and skates toward center ice. Adam shouts after her, âFor the record, I actually think it would help! Youâre both wound so tight youâre going to pop!â
She holds up her middle finger as she waits for her music to start.
â-
Adam is right, though sheâll never tell him that. Ignoring her feelings is not a viable strategy. So more out of self preservation than anything else, she starts to steer clear of situations where it is just the two of them. And since Nathan is juggling about a hundred Olympic promo shoots and interviews with his training anyway, sheâs fairly certain that he hasnât even noticed.
Sheâs on her way out of the rink when she hears him call her name. His voice echoes a bit in the empty hallway. âMariah, hang on a minute.â
Heâs jogging to catch up with her, still in his skates and guards. She turns, waits for him to reach her. âWhatâs up?â
âUm.â He seems suddenly uncertain. âYouâve just . . . rushed out the last few days, so I wanted to check in. Are things okay?â
âOh.â She adjusts the bag on her shoulder, doesnât meet his eyes. âIâm fine. I just have -â
âPlans,â he finishes for her. âYeah.â He shifts his weight a bit uneasily, adds, âIt feels like itâs been awhile since we hung out.â
âI know,â she says. As always, heâs more observant than she gives him credit for. She reaches up and gives him a soft squeeze on the shoulder. âMovie night soon, okay?â
He nods, and she turns to leave.Â
âDo you have a date?â he asks suddenly.
She laughs, surprised. âWhat? No.â
He looks sheepish. âYouâve just had lots of plans lately and you havenât really said what they were, and I thought maybe - nevermind.â
Something stirs in her chest, and she canât stop herself from asking, âWhat if I did have a date?â
âThen youâd be going on a date, I guess,â he says. âI donât know. Whatever.âÂ
âWhatever,â she repeats, suddenly annoyed. âOkay, sure. So if it would just be whatever, why did you even ask?âÂ
âI donât know. I wish I hadnât, now.â He runs a hand through his hair, lets out a frustrated breath. âI should get back to practice.â
But she is unwilling to let this go. âSo if I was seeing someone, it wouldnât bother you at all?â
âNo! I mean, I donât know.â
âStop saying you donât know!â The volume at which she says those words takes them both aback. She takes a deep breath and looks down at her shoes. This is ridiculous. Sheâs acting like a teenager.
âI shouldnât have asked, Iâm sorry,â he says. âItâs none of my business.â
âNo, itâs not that.âÂ
âWhat, then? I feel like Iâm missing something, here, Mariah, and it sucks. Youâve been avoiding me, and I miss you, and -â
She kisses him.Â
Itâs not perfect. Sheâs failed to correctly factor in the extra height that his skates give him, so her angle is a bit off. And she still has her stupid bag on her shoulder, which swings into his side as she leans into him. But it takes him just a moment to recover from his surprise, his hands circling her waist and lifting her the fraction of an inch needed for him to deepen the kiss, and then she canât remember why she was fighting so hard to not let this happen.
He pulls away first, looking a bit dazed. For a moment they are both speechless.
âSo hereâs the thing,â she says. âI have wanted to do that for weeks.â
His lips quirk upward. âSo you donât want to plead temporary insanity and run away?â
She shakes her head. âBut I know the timing is terrible, so if you would prefer that we just pretended that it never happened, Iâd understand.â
He tips her chin up with a finger and presses his lips to hers. The kiss is gentle but sure, and she can feel them crossing a bridge to something new.Â
Eventually, they will talk. He will confess the years that he spent dreaming of her one night when he thinks she is already asleep; she will tell him that she loves him as they drive to the rink on an otherwise unremarkable December morning. They will laugh and they will fight and they will skate and they will figure this out, their new normal.
Today, though, he just smiles and says, âI really do have to get back. Raf is going to be so pissed.â
He gives her one more quick kiss and heads back down the hallway. He turns and calls, âHey, you donât really have plans tonight, do you?â
âI better have some now!â she yells back, laughing.Â
He grins. âIâll pick you up at seven.â
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The Part-Time Puppeteer - Chapter 06
<= Chapter 5
Summary : Lukas gets to have a heart-to-heart discussion with an absolute asshole. Also available on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/23828971/chapters/81015496
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AAAAH I'M SORRY FOR THE TWO MONTHS HIATUS I HAD A WRITER BLOCK---
Anyway uuuh, new chapter, I have no idea if it's good or not but still, here it is. I did my best to offer you a longer chapter as a compensation, it's twice the length of the last one.
Happy reading ! Thank you for waiting all this time.
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Chapter 6 - âOh. Itâs you.â
The rest of the day had been⊠Quite blurry for the student. After coming back home, he had sat down at his desk, staring into space for⊠Minutes, hours, he hadnât been able to tell. It was an understatement to say that he was in shock after what had happened. Even after everything, his mind couldnât help but think this was just a joke, or that he had imagined the whole thing. But the script in his bag was a proof of the contrary. For a good while, the young man hadnât found the courage to look back at it, as if it were some sort of cursed object, haunting him. But then, the Conductorâs words came back to him: âlearn your text by tomorrowâ. An order, a clear one, coming from one of his bosses. The student shivered as he remembered, soon bringing his hands to his face, massaging his closed, tired eyes. Oh, boy, why did he always get in that kind of situation⊠Even when he was a kid, he would often get dragged in things like this. He had thought this would get better as he grew up, but noooo, of fucking course it wouldnât. Lukas let out a loud, long, exaggerated sigh, and stood up. He walked to his sofa bed all while dragging his feet and, once he was in front of it, it was like what was left of his energy left him. What a day . With another sigh, the student felt his body fall forward, and it wasnât long before his face hit one of his pillows. Air was forced out of his lungs by the impact, though he did nothing but grunt in the fabric. Him? An actor? This couldnât be right, this just⊠It wasnât right. Sure, MJ was a jerk, but he still had the skills and the experience! In comparison, Lukas was just a law student- not a bad one, mind you, which only made it even more surprising to see him getting the role. It wasnât like he had chosen the wrong scholar path, no, on the contrary, he was skilled in his major. But apparently, his bosses had seen something else deep inside that walking shell of anxiety⊠-âUuuuugh...â his voice was low and tired. For a moment, he thought he was almost going to fall asleep like this, still wearing his clothes, but he reluctantly sat down. With a look full of weariness and unwillingness, the studentâs attention went back to his bag, in which the script was. He didnât want to learn the lines, and a single glance at his desk full of homework was a good way to understand why. But it seemed like his paycheck was now depending on it, as much as he would have preferred to remain a stagehand⊠-âGuess I donât have a choiceâŠâ he mumbled, before moving his foot to reach for the bag, making it slide towards him, so he could open it. He supposed that he would be able to scribble down the answers to his homework during his lunch break⊠Or, at least, he hoped. And so, the young man spent the next two hours learning his lines, saying them out loud, so he could remember them. A good thing about his brain was that it learned pretty well from words and sounds. Thus, by saying them out loud, Lukas was pretty efficient in remembering them. Plus, truth to be told, those lines werenât exactly as hard to learn as his law books⊠Not that it was a bad thing, far from it. At least, it made his job far easier. However, he wasnât going to lie, there were a few parts that were harder to remember. Once he was done, the student hesitated on whether he should go to sleep (the reasonable option) or try to get some of his homework done. Sure, he was pretty tired, and the day had been filled by a lot of diverse emotions⊠But part of him knew he just wouldnât be able to fall asleep knowing what awaited him the day after. He had always been very anxious, this was a secret to no one, and especially not himself⊠However, this whole thing was very new, and it made it all worse. And so⊠The student ended up staying up late until three in the morning, managing to get most of his homework done. One of the perks of being good at a subject was being fast. Of course, this would have given him much better results if he had worked on it seriously, without all the tiredness and all, but the context wasnât really allowing him that.
Thus, Lukas packed up his college stuff for the next day and soon went to sleep for one very short night. Oh, well, not his first, far from it. Thankfully, he had a few sleeping meds he had kept from an old treatment, allowing him to fall asleep rather quick. However, this always came at a price- they made waking up a much more difficult moment, as his body was still very much under the influence of the medicine when that happened. And the next morning⊠Was no exception, especially since he only got to sleep for less than three hours. Fighting the urge to go back to sleep, Lukas managed to get up and prepare himself for college. New clothes, brushing his hair and teeth⊠It only took him a moment until he was ready to leave his small apartment. Oh, his face, however⊠It looked like it belonged to a rotten corpse, who had just come back to life⊠Somewhat. The trip to college was pretty ordinary, and so was his morning and afternoon, actually. He gave his teachers all the papers that were due, he aced one of his oral presentation despite looking like a dead man⊠No, really, this day was going well, which was surprising considering he was mostly surviving thanks to coffee and to the fear of collapsing in public. Yeah, no, he didnât want any attention on him⊠Which was a funny thing to think about, because this was exactly what he was going to get with his new job! Once his classes were over, Lukas took the bus to his workplace, dread settling on his shoulders, heavier and heavier as the minutes passed. Oh, he didnât want to get that role⊠Of course, he could tell his bosses, but there was a small part of him, deep down, that was curious about where this would lead him. Now, obviously, being a stagehand was a pretty classic job, one without risks⊠But this? While he was terrified of screwing up, especially since people would be looking at him⊠Yeah, there was something that prevented him from refusing this promotion. And, also, if that could piss MJ off, then it was a good bonus. The studio reception was calm compared to the day before and, for a moment, just a small moment, the student thought his shift was going to be nice. But ooh, no, he couldnât have nice things- the moment he opened the door leading to the staff areas, he winced as many voices echoed around him. They were coming from all directions, through walls, doors too! It was a large cacophony in there, and people were running around, carrying stuff and bringing props for each shooting. Actions movies, dramas, comedies⊠Each type had its own part of the studio, but there was this central room linking them all together and, oh, this place was just a battlefield. Moving fast through the agitated crowd, Lukas tried to reach his accredited part of the studio- the children shows shootings. Avoiding props almost falling on his feet accidentally, sneaking between people carrying hot coffee, and bending down to avoid planks being carried around⊠He bumped into someone just before he got to open the door leading to his area. -âOh, I- Iâm sorry,â he stammered, quickly moving back, so he could apologize properly to the person he had bumped into. However, his eyes widened when he recognized the figure in front of him. Mike! The good twin. For a second, the latterâs face had alarmed him, as he thought he had bumped into MJ instead⊠But thankfully, while having the same face, the two brothers had very different hairstyles and fashion choices. The student let out a sigh- phew, he wasnât sure he would have been ready for MJâs bullshit right at the beginning of his shift. -âOh, hey!â Mike seemed almost as surprised as he was, though his expression quickly changed to a warm, welcoming one: âGood to see you again- oh, wait, letâs, uh⊠Get inside,â he then mumbled, opening the door quickly so they both could leave the absolute war zone they were in. Lukas didnât lose any time and followed the other like a shadow would, only getting the opportunity to sigh in relief as they found themselves in a much quieter place. Kinda ironic that the children shows part of the
studio was calmer than the staff hall... -âHey,â he finally replied, now that the âbattlefieldâ was behind them: âItâs good to see you too,â he answered trustfully, with a smile. He hadnât seen the other since MJâs outburst the day before, and getting the chance to meet him again was a good way of making Lukasâ day a little better and⊠Less chaotic. -âHow are you?â he then asked, deciding to take a moment for a conversation with his only friend in the studio so far. Plus, he was⊠Worried. With what had happened the day before, and how MJ had thrown Mikeâs puppet on the floor like it was nothing, he wanted to make sure everything was okay. -âOh, Iâm⊠Doing fine,â the other looked away with an awkward smile, which was an obvious sign that things had definitely happened yesterday. With how furious the actor had been when leaving the shooting, Lukas could very well imagine the latter taking his frustration on his brother. What an asshole. But, it was family business, and he couldnât say anything about it, as a stranger. -âWhat about you?â Mike added quickly, visibly determined on changing the topic: âI heard you got the role, yesterday. Congrats!â The praise took the student by surprise, and he felt his cheeks reddening from the embarrassment. Oh, man, this was new, yeah⊠He wasnât used to that kind of thing. His stance tensed up, and a sheepish smile took place on his lips. -âOh, uh⊠Thanks,â he blurted out, and it was his turn to look away: âItâs⊠Really weird, I guess Iâm just⊠Feeling a bit shocked, you know?â he turned his head back to his new friend and a nervous giggle escaped him. He was fidgeting, not really knowing how to respond to that. -âAh, yeah, itâs your first time,â Mike nodded, remembering that Lukas had first been hired as a stagehand, not as an actor: âDonât worry, children shows are the perfect way to start as a beginner. You know, with the public being less critical and all⊠Iâm sure youâll get used to it in no time.â The puppet maker was kind, trying to reassure Lukas and ease his anxiety. Too bad that his stage fight was skyrocketing since the moment he had stepped in the building again⊠Another nervous giggle left his lips, and he started to rub his arm, not knowing what to do with his hands. -âI suppose soâŠâ he muttered, still smiling, though it looked less genuine: âItâs just that⊠I mean⊠Why me? Iâm just a guy who wanted a part-time job. Iâm not an actor, I donât have any experienceâŠâ -âWell, from what Iâve heard, you were pretty good yesterday- oh, speaking about thatâŠâ Mikeâs face darkened, as if he had just remember to mention something unpleasant: âI think you should⊠Avoid MJ, as much as you can, from now on. My brother, heâs⊠He didnât take it well, Iâm not gonna lie, and⊠I mean, you saw how he is with people, heâs not the best at being with others. Now, with what happened yesterday, I donât think heâll make your life any easier.â The student grimaced as he listened to his friend. Yeah⊠Yeah, he had seen that coming. With how livid MJ had been when leaving the set, it wasnât surprising that the latter was going to make his shifts hell. God, he really hoped he would manage to avoid that jerk⊠-âYeah, I⊠Kinda expected that,â he admitted, tilting his head to the side with a wince: âBut, uh⊠Since heâs not part of the team anymore, I shouldnât run too much into him⊠Right?â -âI wish Iâd say yes, butâŠâ Mike answered, his face showing conflict: âHe has some other roles in the studio, and he might come see me now and then, so⊠Yeah. Be careful and do your best to avoid him. Heâs not⊠The best person to be around when heâs like this.â âOh, you mean all the time, then?â Lukas thought to himself, but kept his mouth shut. Not the best thing to say out loud, especially when it came to said personâs twin. Still, he couldnât help but wonder why Mike was making so many efforts for someone that clearly didnât deserve them⊠But, then again, he was a stranger, it wasnât his place to say anything. -âWill do,â he assured his friend, before looking at his watch and- oh, shit, he was going to
be late. Apparently, it must have been visible from his expression, because the puppet maker let out a soft giggle: -âOh, yeah, itâs time,â he looked up, as if he were trying to remember something: âLast time I saw the Conductor and DJ Grooves, they were in the conference room with some investors. You should go practice in the meantime⊠My workshop is open, if you want,â he offered with a shrug: âItâs a small room, but Iâm normally the only one there, so if you wanna have some quiet, alone time to rehearse, well⊠I need to help the stagehands for some set repairs, so I wonât bother you.â The offer was a really nice attention, another one that did help to make Lukasâ day a little better. Considering his promotion, he wasnât sure if he was supposed to help the other stagehands while waiting for his bosses, but⊠Well, practicing really wouldnât hurt, especially considering how short his night had been. -âThanks, I really appreciate it,â he gave Mike a warm smile, before pointing to a door on the other side of the room: âItâs this one, right?â he asked for confirmation. -âYep, thatâs the one! Just, uh⊠Please donât touch anything, most of the puppets and costumes arenât done, so theyâre quite fragile.â Lukas assured him he wouldnât, and even then, he didnât have any reason to. At least, contrary to his friendâs twin, he knew how to respect someoneâs work⊠And with that, the two waved to one another, before heading to opposite directions. The student walked to the door with a quick pace, wanting to get as much time as possible to practice. When he opened it, he was surprised to see that, yeah, the room was pretty small indeed, even smaller than what he had imagined. The place was full of puppets hanging from the ceiling, and the walls were covered in eccentric and colorful clothes. It was almost eye straining! Two out of the four corners of the rooms were used to stock supplies and different types of fabric, making the room even smaller than it originally was. Then, hidden in the third corner was a desk with a sewing machine on top of it. It looked like an old but durable one, the kind that would last years even if it was out-of-date. Other than that, the desk was full of smaller supplies, like needles, sewing threads, pens, pieces of paper, templates⊠It was like this room had no free space other than the center of it. Well, Lukas supposed this is where he would rehearse, then. Not like there were many other option⊠The young man closed the door behind him and made a few steps, his eyes looking all around him. He didnât think it was possible to fit so many things in a single room, but, hey, he was wrong! He then shook his head- it was time to work. After clearing his throat, the student opened his bag and took the script out, flipping the pages up to the parts he had the most trouble remembering. Oh, jeez, he really was doing this, wasnât he? This was so weird⊠But whatever paid his bills and his studies, he guessed. And so⊠He got to work. It was a lot easier to practice when there was no one around. No one to judge him, no one to mock him when he fucked up⊠Yeah, it made it all easier. Sure, he didnât have any experience in it, but at least he had to admit it was pretty fun. Nonetheless, he still had no idea why the two directors chose him over an experienced actor like MJ⊠Like, of course he had noticed the latter was a huge asshole, but other than that, his acting skills were obvious. Maybe he was being used to give MJ a lessonâŠ? This seemed like the most probable explanation. After all, MJâs presence in the casting was supposed to bring attention to the show⊠And now, one of the most important roles had been given to a nobody instead. It didnât seem like a good idea, marketing-wise. Law was his specialty, but that didnât mean he was stupid when it came to other things. Lukas couldnât believe he had been chosen for his âtalentsâ, because he had none on that field. After a moment, he paused his practice, shutting his eyes and letting out an exaggerated sigh. Shit, this was distracting him. He couldnât focus
on his lines. His acting skills, if he had any, were affected by it. It was like something was entering his mind from one side only to disappear through another. Memorizing the words was harder than he had thought it would be the day before, and he couldnât help but grunt in frustration. Fuck, he knew he was able to remember those lines, he had learned much more complex texts before! This script was simple, so the young man put the blame on his short night of sleep. Furthermore, it was hard to memorize something only by starting the day before⊠He was about to start again when he heard the door opening behind him, cutting him short. The student turned to the direction of the noise, expecting to see Mikeâs face and⊠Well, in a way, he kinda did. Except it wasnât Mike. It was MJ, the evil twin. âOh, fuck me,â he thought, paling up. For fuckâs sake, right after Mike told him to avoid his brother! Was it a joke or something?! Before he even got the chance to speak, MJâs expression changed from a neutral one to one of utter disgust. Yeah, clearly, the other had expected to see his twin, but⊠Nope, Lukas had been the one in the room. âLesson learned, never going back in that workshop alone,â the student told himself, though it was way too late to do anything about it. -âOh. Itâs you,â the actor spat, this time not trying to keep his nice mask on like he had been when they had met the day before: âThe fuck are you doing here?â The celebrityâs eyes were glaring at him, all while examining him from top to bottom. It was⊠Very unpleasant, to be stared at this way. And being talked to like that? Yeah, no, Lukas was perhaps a shy person, but he didnât want to let anyone walk all over him, especially not an asshole like MJ. Usually, he tended to flee conflict, but today was different. He was way too tired to deal with this shit. -âYes , hello to you too,â he muttered as an answer, quickly putting his attention back to the script: âYour brotherâs not here, but he told me I could use the room in the meantime.â Apparently, his tone didnât please the actor, whose eyes narrowed in response: -âNo kidding, I can see my brotherâs not here, dumbass,â he shrugged and rolled his eyes: âIâm not blind.â Oooh, the insult didnât fall on deaf ears, and it really rubbed Lukas the wrong way. He turned to the celebrity again, this time returning the latterâs glare: -âWell, good for you, I guess,â the student spoke louder than his previous mutter. His annoyance was much more visible, though he still remained polite: âIf youâre looking for Mike, heâs with the stagehands.â -âDidnât ask,â the actor retorted harshly. The otherâs eyes then fell on the script, and his expression darkened. Well, shit, this couldnât be good- and, just like Lukas had predicted, it wasnât. MJâs look of hatred was soon replaced by a mocking yet salty expression, one that the student really didnât like. -âAw, am I interrupting something?â the celebrity taunted him, leaning against the door frame as a smirk took place on his lips. -âActually, yes. You are,â Lukasâ patience was running out. God, he wanted to punch that guy so bad⊠Well, not like he would ever do that, he wasnât that kind of person. Still, the urge was there. In response to his honest words, the actor scoffed loudly, rolling his eyes again. God, that fucking asshole⊠-âWhat, donât tell me you honestly think you have what it takes!â MJâs tone had changed from a mocking one to a harsher, meaner one: âYou have no idea how to play a role- lemme guess, you never had any theater courses before, hm?â At Lukasâ silence, the celebrity snickered bitterly: -âYeah, thatâs what I thought. Youâre just a nobody, a guy who happened to be there at the right time. But you, an actor? Donât make me laugh. You donât know shit about acting.â Okay, now that was enough. Politeness was nice and all, but with this guy? No, nu-huh, nope, not happening. In an instant, Lukasâ attempts at remaining civil were thrown away through a window. No one could talk to him like that, and not even his anxiety was
going to silence him. -âOh, I donât know shit about acting, thatâs right,â he talked back, his tone much more aggressive: âBut at least I know how to be a decent person.â -âExcuse me?â MJâs face showed a mix of bewilderment and fury, probably because no one ever confronted him like this in the past: âI didnât steal someone elseâs job!â -âHah, thatâs rich!â the student scoffed, raising his arms with a scandalized expression: âYou lost your job! I didnât do anything!â his voice echoed in the room as his anger intensified: âIf you werenât such an asshole, maybe youâd have kept your place in the-â However, the student didnât even get the time to finish his sentence. The celebrity had dashed towards him, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, bringing their face close as an intimidating gesture: -âWatch your fucking mouth,â was the warning he got from the other, whose eyes were fixed on his: âThere are so many things I could do to make your life a living Hell. I have a lot of strings I can pull, and if I were you, I wouldnât risk that,â the actorâs voice had got lower, like a murmur, a clear threat directed to him. But Lukas was just getting so fucking tired of it. Enough was enough. He grabbed the celebrityâs hand and pulled it away, forcing the latter to let go of him. -âSo, let me get this straight: you want to destroy me because I pointed out how much of a jerk you were to everyone? And you still think youâre the decent person out of us two? You might want to rethink that, buddy.â The response he got was yet another glare, though this time there was no spiky answer. âOf course Iâm right, asshole, canât say anything back, now, can you?â he thought to himself, pride swelling inside him. Man, this was perhaps the first argument he ever won⊠Holy shit, yeah, it was- and he didnât even stutter! Maybe he needed to be tired more often- yeah, no, that wasnât a good idea. Air was forced out of his lungs as he was pushed away, though despite the fear of being punched, it never came. The look of pure hatred he was getting from MJ was almost burning him and, for a moment, he really thought he would get attacked- being someone who had never fought anyone, he wasnât really confident about his abilities to fight back. But all MJ did was to step back to the door, a furious expression written all over his face: -âYou wanna play that game with me?â he spat: âFine. But mark my words, stagehand, I will win.â And not even giving Lukas the time to retort anything, the actor stormed off the room and slammed the door behind him. It screamed â I am mad, and I want everyone to know thatâ. Lukas, however, did not give a single fuck about it. Perhaps it was the tiredness speaking (and it was), but if the other wanted to fight, then Lukas would be ready. Well, he probably wouldnât in hindsight, once his mind cleared up⊠But at the moment, the young manâs anger was making him blind to many aspects. One of them being that MJ was a famous person who was indeed capable of destroying him, and making him fail his studies with just the right calls. But this wasnât something Lukas would realize before calming down. And only then, he would ask himself âwhy the hell couldnât I keep my mouth shut like usual?!â Until that moment⊠The student kept rehearsing, though his anger prevented him from actually anything. Today was going to be a long dayâŠ
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
Hopefully Lukas won't have too much trouble with this jerk of an actor :)c (who I love with all my heart)
=> Chapter 7
#a hat in time fanfiction#a hat in time#ahit#a hat in time the snatcher#a hat in time snatcher#ahit snatcher#ahit the snatcher#ahit mj#ahit fanfiction#ahit au#puppet au#the part-time puppeteer#mike#mj#erekio#erekiosuncreativeideas#fanfiction#tptp
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So since the last time I posted one of these the entire world has changed dramatically and hopefully 4 hours of music will tide you over in quarantine for a bit longer. Strangely Iâve been busier than ever, and what started as a personal challenge to listen to a new album every day in February turned into me listening to 116 new albums in March and 124 in April. Iâve got a stacked google doc full of star ratings and dates now and itâs really been a lot of fun, I highly recommend trying it yourself. This is my March playlist, because I accidentally took a month off, and Iâm thinking of either switching these playlists to weekly to make them a little more digestible or just dropping them whenever. Who knows. Let me know what you think and drop album recommendations in the comments please.
Listen here:Â https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0k1JjT8fXcUFO6VpM3kaez?si=gWSv88vdShKSnHhLJ_80pQ
If youâd like to receive these playlists in a more digestible email format, please subscribe to my tinyletter here: http://tinyletter.com/grimelords
On A Slow Boat To China - Bing Crosby & Peggy Lee: Ok first off itâs amazing this song isnât more racist. I don't remember now how or why I came across this. I think I was just thinking about crooners and how as a genre it's now existed in common popularity as a nostalgic idyll of a mytholigised past far longer than it was ever actually popular which is interesting. The origin of this song, according to wikipedia, is also one of the most 40s ideas I've ever read: "I'd like to get you on a slow boat to China" was a well-known phrase among poker players, referring to a person who lost steadily and handsomely. The idea being that a "slow boat to China" was the longest trip one could imagine. Loesser moved the phrase to a more romantic setting, yet it eventually entered general parlance to mean anything that takes an extremely long time".
Fight Night - Migos: I saw that Offset had some new show on Quibi the extremely fake sounding streaming service and I thought "how did Migos get so world conqueringly large that they get to make 10 minute shows nobody will watch for a $2 billion venture capital funded app that will never make any money?" They seem to have this massive reputation without having much to back it up. The last thing I remember everyone talking about was how Culure II was two hours long in order to game streaming numbers and was simply not good. They seemed to have sort of settled into making background music for scrolling instagram. But then I remembered Fight Night and I thought: "oh wait, that's right, Migos are fucking great". Where their other big hits like Bad And Boujee and Walk It Talk It have this sort of laid back vibe where they've comfortably nailed the formula and relax onto it, Fight Night commands your attention. StackboyTwan killed the beat - it has this propulsive momentum where it feels like it's constantly ramping up, moving up from the sidesick and bassline in the verse, up to the claps on the beat, and the big gang chants on the offbeat once the full instrumentation kicks in - then it just goes around and around and around with the constant bassline the whole tim. It's a perfect all-rise production because it never actually explodes, it's all building tension held down by an unchanging bassline.
Do It Puritan! - El Hombre Trajeado & Sue Tompkins: I am extremely delighted to announce that Sue Tompkins of one of my all time favourite single album bands Life Without Buildings has broken a nearly 20 year musical hiatus to appear on this song by El Hombre Trajeado. It is so nice to hear how her voice has changed and her approach has stayed the same. Her style is so unique and so good and I don't think I'll ever get tired of it.
5 8 6 - New Order: Before 'the incident' I had tickets to see New Order at the end of March and so I embarked on a big listen through of their discography, which has now unfortunately made it feel even worse that live music is cancelled indefinitely.
Oom Sha La La - Haley Heynderickx: First of all I love songs where they talking about how they're writing a song halfway through. And I love songs that seem like a pretty normal singer songwriter indie thing where someone just starts screaming near the end. I love this song. A great staring at the wall and absolutely losing your mind because you haven't done anything with your whole life anthem.
Elektrobank - The Chemical Brothers: Can you believe I've never listening to a full Chemical Brothers album before this month? Can you believe big beat ever went our of style? It feels insane that we ever swapped this sort of energy for the beige algorithm of EDM. I think there's a real triumph in this album, and in this track especially of replicating the live feeling in studio. Giving it this much space to grow and change and get very hairy near the end is amazing, it feels like it was just recorded live.
My Mind's A Ship (That's Going Down) - Katie Pruitt: It feels very rare to me that this sort of extremely smooth Nashville prduction actually makes a song better. It has a habit of strangling the life out of a song and making it blend into a boring paste of soundalikes, but with Katie Pruitt it works amazingly. Her songwriting is so distinct and clear and her voice, especially near the end where it punches hole in the sky, is so strong and so her own that it doesn't need anything else.
Water - Ohmme: "What if Tegan And Sara were a noise band instead?" is a question I didn't know I needed an answer to. I love any band that has the guts to write songs like this that sound like pop from an alternate history, so off kilter and odd and noisy but with this undeniable pop heart that the duo vocals make sound like schoolyard clapping chants remixed by Lightning Bolt.
Lions, Tigers and Bears - SLIFT: A friend put me on to Slift and described them as French King Gizz and really, I'm inclined to agree. This is the traditional long last song at the end of their new album, and as usual I am advocating that every song should be the long last song at the end of the album. I love this style of jam where everyone else goes to space but the rhythm section just digs in and works hard as fuck for ten minutes. Then the whole last 3 minutes of the song are just fat drone riffs. This song's got everything.
The Pines - 070 Shake: This 070 Shake album is unbeleivably good and it warms my heart to see the dark energy of The Pines live on through another century in yet another permutation. I have more to say about it later in the Jackson C Frank version coming up but it feels like this 070 Shake album kind of came and went but I implore you to listen, itâs an aoty contender for sure.
Standing On The Verge Of Getting It On - Funkadelic: If you can stop thinking about the intro, which I certainly canât (Hey lady wonât you be my dog and Iâll be your tree and you can pee on me.) there is so much goodness in this song. For a while now Iâve been thinking about how, for lack of a better word, âpositiveâ music is consistently underrated in the critical canon. Dance music, disco and funk especially are derided as empty sugar music, while every cookie cutter metal band absolutely demands to be taken seriously. In dance music this manifests as genres like tech house sucking all the fun and individuality out of music until itâs just an endless parade of producers working to a schematic of the barest essentials. It feels like you canât have fun and be taken seriously at the same time, which feels like an obvious contradiction but shouldnât be!
Spoils - Dry Cleaning: Dry Cleaning are my Lock Of The Month Band To Watch In The Future Because Theyâre Gonna Go Off. They have such a great sound and Iâm desperate for an album because I just need more. This song absolutely knocked me down when I first heard it. I love any band where it sounds like the singer has just wandered in while the rest of them were rehearsing. Thereâs a very good talking-songs movement happening in the UK right now between these guys, Do Nothing and Fontaines D.C and iâm excited to see where it progresses. I might put together a playlist a little later to show you what I mean.
As - Stevie Wonder: I finally listened to Songs In The Key Of Life this month, which is an experience I would recommend to everyone. This shit goes for 21 songs over 105 minutes and absolute bangs the whole way. The original release of this album was a double LP plus a 7", which is yet another reason I am grateful for streaming that I don't have to buy a damn box set to hear this thing.
Sleep Now In The Fire - Rage Against The Machine: I am working on a very niche playlist called Songs Where The Guitar Amp Accidentally Picks Up A Nearby Radio Station For A Couple Of Seconds and it's only 3 songs so far. A Man A Plan A Canal Panama by The Fall Of Troy, Melody 4 by Tera Melos and Sleep Now In The Fire by Rage Against The Machine. In every single one of those songs it feels like a critical component even though it's just an accident that's been left in because it sounds good. Here it's the perfect ending as the rage dies down and the commercial world fades back in. Anyway, my other question about this song is about the great Michael Moore directed video where they famously shut down Wall Street for an afternoon. There's a shot of a guy for a second holding a sign that says Donald Trump For President in 1999. Which is odd but not out of the question, he's been famous for a long time and there's always been freaks. My question is why the fuck did he have that sign that day? Was he amongst the Rage Against The Machine Fans that showed up? A counter protestor? Was he, perhaps most chillingly of all, just walking idly around Wall Street with his Donald Trump For President sign like usual and stumbled upon this whole hoo-haa accidentally?
Applause (Purity Ring Remix) - Lady Gaga: Did you fucking know that Purity Ring did a remix of Applause? If thereâs something Iâd love to know more about and itâs Purity Ringâs forays into pop production. After their first album they did some production for rappers like Danny Brown in the great track 25 Bucks, which is a good fit really - their sound is witch house with the tempo pushed back up, witch house of course just being chopped and screwed reinvented by tumblr users. So itâs a natural fit to take that new perspective back into the world of hip hop. They also did this fantastic remix of Applause after their first album. Then, after their second album they produced 3 songs for Katy Perryâs Witness album, and one Katy Perry song for a Final Fantasy mobile game soundtrack (?) and feel like the long silence and delay between their second and third albums is because of more behind the scenes pop production work - but if thatâs true, where is it? Is it, as I suspect, part of my own personal Pepe Silvia, Katy Perryâs scrapped 2019 album that has vanished into thin air? Or is it part of Chromatica? I think Purity Ring have solidified an interesting place in pop, paving the way for Billie Eilish and Kim Petrasâ dark anti-pop and so iâm excited to see where they go after this new album now that theyâre the architects of the new wave.
React/Revolt - Drahla: The smartest thing you can do is add a saxophone to your band. The whole first half of this song could go for 20 minutes of growling screaming saxophone post-punk and I wouldn't mind. Then when the second half of the song kicks in it's fantastic in the way this whole Drahla album is: it's tight and sprawling post-punk at the same time with a complicated structure that seems to just pile onto itself instead of ever circling back.
And I Was Like - Porridge Radio: I'm seemingly having a real thing this month for songs that open with a bizzare acapella chant. Between this and the Funkadelic one it's a genre I'm very interested in hearing more of. Isaac Newton was a virgin and it's important to recognise that. The thing I love about this song is how it's in 3 distinc sections: Isaac Newton was a virgin, she's a birthday girl in a birthday world, and mum no please it's grunge, and they all feel like the concentrated energy of a 14 year old's thoughts. She sounds like she's almost crying when she sings 'she's a birthday girl in a birthday world'. The concentrated confusing teenaged energy of this song is just overwhelming.
Dirty Mattresses - Mama's Broke: So much of contemporary 'traditional folk' either exists as pure nostalgia music or as music that's trying too hard to be 'authentic' and evoke a mythology of a bygone time, but Mama's Broke manage to make it feel new and modern but honest and  authentic at the same time. The super close harmonies and modern approach remind me of House And Land who I also love, but the songwriting is in another class entirely.
Building A House - CHOPCHOP: I don't know if you've ever seen Bad Boy Bubby but CHOPCHOP feels a little like the band that he ends up joining at the end. A musical ensemble built to enable the will of a very strange man. I think the band is from the UK and I'm not sure where the singer is from, but he has this incredible deeply accented voice that brings such a gravity to everything he sings in the way that anyone speaking english as a second language accidentally brings new weight to common turns of phrase.
Universal Soldier - Jay Electronica: It feels fitting, looking back, that Jay Electronica finally released his album right before the world ended. It was literally now or never. Some how Jay-Z is the breakout star of this album for me. He's got some of his best verses in years on here and he's a great opposition to Electronica's flow when they trade verses. I would also, as an aside, like to know the origin of the kids cheering sample throughout this, because it's the same one from AM//Radio by Earl Sweatshirt and Wish You Were Gay by Billie Eilish. So what's that about.
Sticky Hulks - Thee Oh Sees: I've been very slowly getting into Oh Sees and I love them a lot so far. Their unweildy, huge discography spread across a lot of variations of the same name makes digging into them very rewarding as well. There's a great line on their wiki detailing all the times they've changed their name that goes: Orinoka Crash Suite (1997â2003), OCS (2003â2005, 2017), Orange County Sound (2005), The Ohsees (2006), The Oh Sees (2006â2008), Thee Oh Sees (2008â2017), Oh Sees (2017â2019) Osees (2019) to give you some idea of what we're working with here. Basically it's just everything you could want from a pychedelic band like this: a history and discography as shaggy as the songs themselves.
Knife On The Platter - BODEGA: In reading about Bodega I learned that they don't have a drummer in the traditional sense. They have someone credited as a 'stand up percussionist', and in listening back I realised that's they key to the groove in their music. He's not playing a kit he's just slamming at a tom and a snare on a rack, while one of the singers plays hi-hat here and there. So all the drumming has this barebones caveman feel to it and I absolutely love it. The band feels a lot like The Fashion, and that whole mid-2000s dance-punk movement that I've been desparate to come back so naturally I love it a lot.
Against Gravity - Horse Lords: Horse Lords are one of the most incredible bands I've heard in a long time. Somewhere between a more analogue Battles and Laddio Bolocko, they make a kind of churning math-jazz that sounds like huge intersecting squares of rhythm slowly overlapping. It feels like there's an infinite depth in these songs, you can listen and focus on a single instrument and see it shifting in and out of place with everyone else, before you lose it again and it retreats back into the swirling mass.
Plain To See Plainsman - Colter Wall: I've been listening to this Colter Wall album a lot, and it's really beginning to rank among my all time favourites. I grew up around the flattest place in the southern hemisphere, so I love the plains and it's very nice to have a cowboy song I can relate to like that.
The Nail - Sarah Shook & The Disarmers: Sarah Shook has so much character in her voice I completely love it. She is also a fantastic songwriter that manages to make outlaw country punk that sounds authentic and doesn't have the rockabilly posturing that a lot of the genre suffers from.
Inner Reaches æ
Ÿæçæè§äș - Gong Gong Gong ć·„ć·„ć·„: The best thing about Gong Gong Gong is you can listen to this whole song before you realise they don't have a drummer. They're a guitar and bass duo that play and sing with such a layered rhythmic intensity between the two of them that they really don't need one. A drummer would just clutter the space already taken up by their ferocious rhythm.
Country Pie - Bob Dylan: I'm a big fan of Bob Dylan's dumb songs. He has a lot where if it's the first song you ever heard from him you would be mad at whoever told you he was the greatest songwriter to ever live for trying to trick you like this. What I especially love about this song is how abruptly it ends, like dad just came home and everyone panicked cause they're know they're not supposed to be staying up that late.
You Did It Yourself - Arthur Russell: It seems hard to believe that I've only just found out about Arthur Russel. He seems to be a mainstay of Music Guy lists and somehow I've only heard of him this month. I've been obsessing over the Iowa Dream album, which is a compilation of a lot of different (mostly extremely high quality) demos from the late 70s to mid 80s and what really shines through other than the singular strength of his songwriting is how readily and easily he bends from country style folk to romantic piano ballads, to groovy post-punk like this. What I love so much about this song is it's a great lesson in songwriting: sometimes a song can just be a vague review of a middling movie and still have emotional resonance. Incredible. There's a great NPR article about Arthur Russel and the process of assembling half-takes and demos into complete recordings that you should read if you're interested. https://www.npr.org/2019/11/20/779721417/which-arthur-russell-are-we-getting-on-iowa-dream
The Dogs Outside Are Barking - Arthur Russell: I love this song because it's such a perfect distillation of a teenaged moment: trying to find a moment alone with someone when you have no freedom at all to create one. The song cycles through potential situations but leaves the problem unresolved, existing in the moment of nervous romantic tension preceding an unasked question and it's just beautiful.
Men For Miles - Ought: I love the vocal melody in the verse here so much. Spiking up unnaturally at the end of the lines like a nervous and strange version of The Strokes. Even the way he cramps his words in in the chorus is so good, switching registers randomly like he's impersonating someone else.
Mister Soweto - Lizzy Mercier Descloux:Â https://pitchfork.com/features/from-the-pitchfork-review/9828-lizzy-mercier-descloux-behind-the-muse/ Pitchfork has a great article about Lizzy Mercier Descloux detailing how she is continually undervalued and underappreciated. I found her though my Discover Weekly and became immediately obsessed with this album - a perfect mix of off-kilter 80s bass and brass that is so colourful and seems to move in a million directions at once like the songs can't even catch up with themselves sometimes. I'm excited to dig into her discography more and try to understand her more because she has a truly unique approach that I can't get enough of.
Sweden - Marilyn Crispell: I've been looking for a while for other pianists of Cecil Taylor's calibre, rare type that it is and I am so glad to have finally found out about Marilyn Crispell. She plays free jazz like Taylor, but in much less percussive and disonnant style. There's a New York Times quote that seems to follow her that says "Hearing Marilyn Crispell play solo piano is like monitoring an active volcano. She is one of a very few pianists who rise to the challenge of free jazz." and it's really very apt. She will move with seemingly no warning at all from mediative, colourful stokes to a mad descent unto uncertainty and beyond, then back again without a moments hesitation. Her music moves like a dream, linking a stream of unlinked images with an ease that only seems incongruous on reflection.
Twins - Gem Club: I have loved this song for a very long time and I come back to it over and over and appreciate it anew. What I appreciate about on listening to it this time is the strangeness of it's structure, following up the verse with an instrumental break, and then a long instrumental intro to the chorus gives it so much space to spread out and breathe, giving the beautiful gravity of the song even more weight. Then after the chorus it moves straight to a bridge and then the intro and first verse again. It's a fantastic song that makes it's small parts so large, where another songwriter or another producer would pare them down.
Grand Central - Paul Cauthen: Something I've learned in listening to a lot of cowboy music is that the number one thing that cowboys hate and fear is getting hanged. They hate it worse than cats hate getting sprayed with water. I found out about Paul Cauthen combing through Colter Wall's similar artists looking for more of this brand of new old fashioned country and I really found it here. Paul Cauthen comes from four generations of preachers and left the church to pursue country music instead, which feels like an extremely old fashioned position to be in here in 2020 but I guess lots of people in Texas still live like that, and thank god they do or we wouldn't have Paul Cauthen's big mournful Elvis voice to sing us songs about the railway.
Serafina - BAMBARA: I love this sort of spoken word leather jacket rock and roll. It's so extremely Cool in an old fashioned way. Like a more rock and roll version of Enablers.
So 4 Real - The Hecks: I love love love this song that sounds like a sped up Prince demo. The strange thinness of the mix and the way the vocals are buried just makes it sound so strange and great, like it was put together on some ancient 4 track recorder that can't handle the pure energy of the song.
In The Pines (Version 2) - Jackson C. Frank: There's a very good 3 hour compilation of Jackson C. Frank recordings that came out a few years called Remastered And Unreleased that I listened through the other day. It's just magnificent. This version of In The Pines is one of my favourite I've ever heard, the mournful vocals coupled with his churning rhythm guitar really brings out the darkness of it in a way I've never heard.
(Tumble) In The Wind (Version 1) - Jackson C. Frank: Another favourite from this compilation that is slightly hard to listen to. I don't know if there's a date on it but I'd guess this was recorded near the end of his life. It is so beautiful, but you can hear in his voice and breathing that he's unwell. In Horseshoe Crabs by Hopalong she sings a story from his perspective this song really seems to fit in the second half of that. "Woke from the dream and I was old / Staring at the ass crack of dawn / Walked these streets up and down / Looking for Paul Simon / All I found was myself, lost in time / I tried singing my songs / But I lost my mind"
Sludge - Squid: I'm thinking of putting together a playlist of all the great Black Midi-adjacent bands I've found out about recently and Squid is at the top of the list. This new breed of art-punk is so fantastic and goes in a million different directions. I'm just so excited it exists.
Straight Shot - Quelle Chris: I love this song and Guns is a phenomenal album but thereâs one thing bothering me. The âwho are you, what are youâ part at the end sounds so incredibly familiar to me and I canât figure out why. As far as I can tell itâs not a sample, but googling reveals that the english voice on it is fucking James Acaster the standup comedian. So whatâs going on? Quelle Chris himself is less than helpful: âStraight Shot is one of those ideas that reached out to me, we got along and I simply showed it around town. The chorus, poem at the end and basic piano progression literally came to me in two separate dreamsâ. Who knows. Great song though.
Levitation - Dua Lipa: What I really like about this song is that she says sugarboo. This whole album bangs and Dua is really reaping the benefits of being the only pop star with the guts to release an album while everyoneâs in lockdown I also have a half-baked theory about the way this song is almost interpolating Blame It On The Boogie in the âmoonlight, starlightâ part as a sort of aggressive takeover of Michael Jacksonâs cancelled legacy. Which is smart really. The same way Taylor Swift is re-recording her albums, letâs just get The Weeknd in the studio for a couple of days and give the world back itâs bangers.
Another Crashed Car - Nine Inch Nails: I am so glad Trent Reznor put out another two volumes of Ghosts. Ghosts I-IV from 2008 seems to have been the bridge from his Nine Inch Nails work to his film score work, and now that heâs had such success with that itâs nice to hear him writing in this style without telling anyone elseâs story again. Itâs also interesting for him to go back to this project now that Ghosts I-IV has paid dividends in the form of the sample at the centre of Old Town Road but thatâs neither here nor there. Itâs hard to pick and individual track from these, because they work so effectively as long form albums and not individual tracks, but I chose this one because I put the album on as background ambient while I was doing some boring data entry at work and this track is the point at which I realised I was going out of my mind with stress from doing the simplest tasks because of Trentâs Damned Chords.
Lilacs - Waxahatchee: This is a perfect song. It makes me want to like, draw charts about it and go through it bar by bar to figure out how she did it. Itâs perfectly put together. It feels like she uses every trick in the book and it just comes together flawlessly in 3 minutes. Amazing.
Cool Water - Hank Williams: I decided to properly listen to Hank Williams because his shadow stretches over so much of country music, and while a lot of his music really alienated or bored me, and a lot of his songs feel like they would read as novelty songs today (like Hey Good Looking), this is the song that made me understand why heâs so revered.
In My Bones (feat. Kimbra and Tank And The Bangas) - Jacob Collier: Jacob Collier generally irks me. He makes brain music for redditors that lose their mind when someone shows them chord inversions or odd time signatures. Youtubers whose whole personality is âyâall heard Giant Steps?â But he killed it on this song. Itâs great despite him. Thereâs still a lot of corniness to work through, mostly in the big yuck funky lyrics, but structurally itâs a kaleidoscope and a big chunk of its success Iâm putting down to Kimbra and Tank who understand that performance is a bigger part of a song than composition in a way Collier maybe doesnât yet. He can overload the bassline and stop-start the rhythms as much as he likes but without actual personalities driving it itâll just sound like a Peter Gabriel midi played at 200%.
Earthquake - Graham Central Station: I learned something wonderful in researching this band. The leader, Larry Graham, who was in Sly And The Family Stone is credited with inventing slap bass. He himself refers to the technique as "thumpin' and pluckin'â".
Quand Les Larmes Dâun Ange Font Danser La Neige - Melodyâs Echo Chamber: Once again furious that Iâve known of Melodyâs Echo Chamber for years but never listened to them until now. I have been missing out. This is a perfect sprawling psychedelic jam punctuated with a bizzare cut-up recording about shitting yourself when you die and being declared brain dead in the vatican. Itâs got everything. I had to look up who the drummer was on this song because heâs just nailing it, and it turns out itâs Johan Holmegaard from Dungen which is really a perfect fit.
Murder Most Foul - Bob Dylan: I was thinking the other day about how Bob Dylan is doing in quarantine. The man who hasnât stopped moving his whole life and whoâs been on a never ending tour  since the 70s is now, I assume, just pacing a hole in a hotel carpet somewhere and jabbering to himself. The strangest part of Bob dropping this 17 minute song about JFK out of nowhere is that he hasnât put out any original music since 2012. So a gigantic song like this is an even bigger surprise. I, already a huge fan of gigantic songs and Bob Dylan, unsurprisingly love it. I love the slow stirring of the instrumentation, like he hired Dirty Three as a backing band and I love that nearly the entire second half is just listing good songs that he knows. Itâs a remarkable song and unlike anything iâve heard before from Dylan or anyone else. Itâs interesting to hear Bob Dylan step into being the great chronicler of the 60s like heâs been told he already was his entire life almost 50 years later, finally accepting the fate foisted on him. The other thing I love about this song is the line when he for some reason praises Lee Harvey Oswaldâs shooting âGreatest magic trick ever under the sun / Perfectly executed, skillfully doneâ
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0k1JjT8fXcUFO6VpM3kaez?si=gWSv88vdShKSnHhLJ_80pQ
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Happy birthday Myx! đ„łđ Have Several questions because I Want To Know Things. ^^; Illness & Injury 6 for everyone, Whump 2 & 3 for everyone, and Writer's 2, 13, 19, and 46 for you!
thank you Mel! ⥠and oh my gosh Iâm so delighted by this abundance of questions!
6. What is their go-to remedy for an upset stomach?
Kara and Bramley both like some warmth on unhappy tummy. Theyâll make themselves tea, more for the warmth than anything else, and sip it while taking it easy. Kara is likely to get herself a little warm pack too if she can.
Malia tends to go straight for medicine or a tonic. She doesnât like to be slowed down by her body, and so will opt for whatever she thinks will be most effective in the shortest amount of time.
Si, being a song-mage, was once surrounded by fellow song-mage friends they could ask to cast a stomach-settling healing spell on them. With that option off the table, they'll also look for a fast-acting medicine or tonic.
Grayson and Elliott both try to ignore an upset stomach for a little while in the hopes that itâll settle. When that fails, Grayson will go get himself a tonic and complain to his friends until it kicks in, while Elliott will either try sitting quietly and sipping on water or tea, or if he can get away, just sleeping it off.
Ryder is knowledgeable enough to take a different approach depending on how upset his stomach is. For something minor, heâll make himself a digestion-easing tea, like mint or chamomile. If he knows that wonât be effective, heâll go straight to a tonic. When itâs something heâs eaten thatâs not agreeing with him, sometimes heâll just go make himself throw up to get it out of his system.
2. What is their pain tolerance? Do they close their eyes and block it out, or go into a full blown panic?
Grayson really hates tolerating pain, but if he has to, he can take a lot. Most of the time, he will remove himself from painful situations as quickly as possible and complain bitterly about anything that hurts. But if the chips were down, he would turn out to be a lot tougher than anyone expected.
Bramley is a Sweet Baby and We Do Not Harm Him is not really used to enduring pain and has a low tolerance for it. He would close his eyes and block it out rather than panicking, but not really be able to do anything except sit there and block pain until he was Helped. câ:
Kara is Pure Sunshine and We Do Not Harm Her Either has a pretty high tolerance for acute pain and doesnât panic about injuries, but she has been known to get faint from them. Sheâs also easily worn down by chronic discomfort, like being too hot or cold or just having a constant dull ache of some kind.
Malia is the opposite. She can put up with low-key pain or discomfort for a long time, but an acute injury would freak her out a lot more than sheâd like to admit.
Ryder has a high pain tolerance on all fronts, honestly. As soon as he feels pain, he looks for a solution to ease it, and if there are none to be had, heâll grit his teeth and block it out.
Meanwhile, poor dear Si is not great with pain. Song-mages are primarily healers, and so Si is really used to having even little hurts soothed quickly and easily. They donât panic when in pain, but they do get extremely miserable.
Elliott has a very high pain tolerance when the pain feels within his control; he can power through even the worst headaches or stomachaches, for example. But as soon as the pain feels out of his control (i.e. he gets injured), he panics.
3. How long do they typically take to recover from illness or injury compared to average?
Ryder and Kara, by virtue of Robustness and Being Sensible People who largely take care of themselves when under the weather, are quick to recover.
Grayson and Malia both heal quickly from injuries, but take a little longer with illnesses. With Grayson, itâs more a matter of him not being back to himself until his symptoms are completely gone (he is very much a Man Flu type of guy.) Meanwhile Malia will treat an injury with appropriate care, but is likely to push herself back to full capacity before sheâs fully better from an illness, leading to a slower recovery.
As big and strong as Bramley is, heâs actually a little more delicate immune system-wise. He tends to be a slow recoverer, even though heâs good about looking after himself when sick or hurt.
Elliott and Si also tend to have slow and uneven recoveries, but in their cases, itâs due to hooliganery. Si takes good care of themself during the uncomfortable phase of their illness or injury, but as soon as they feel 90% better, theyâre eager to leap back into life with their usual zeal. Thatâs not always a great idea and can lead to them prolonging whatever is afflicting them. Elliott, on the other hand, is just a stubborn idiot who doesnât take care of himself. Heâs particularly bad about this with injuries, often aggravating them and even making them worse because he wonât give them the rest they need to heal.
2.    Are you a pantser or plotter?
Usually I lean more towards plotting, although I do leave a lot of room for the new directions and ideas I know Iâll discover during the process of writing itself. But Ginger and Mint is the big exception -- I started writing it with zero plan whatsoever. I do have an outline for it now, but I was probably eight or nine chapters in before I made it.
While the final product is definitely not as a polished as it wouldâve been if Iâd planned it from the start, it was honestly super refreshing to not worry and just write. Iâve been trying to bring a little of that experience over into my more serious writing -- itâs so easy to get caught up in plotting and forget to leave room for writing itself to be a generative process.
13. Describe your writing process from idea to polished
Have idea. Whee!
âMark outâ the things I want to happen in the story or chapter:
I usually do this by writing out short snippets of prose or dialogue related to the ideas Iâve had about each moment. For example, letâs say I know I want a moment where Grayson talks to Ryder. Iâd type up a couple lines of dialogue and/or maybe a line about Grayson encountering Ryder and noting what heâs doing or how heâs looking -- whateverâs relevant to the scene. Basically, whatever ideas I have about that scene will be represented in writing in the âmark.â
I have all these marks ordered in the document in the same way the scenes will eventually be chronologically ordered. For me, having visual space is important for my ability to think, so I hit the enter key enough times between the marks that I can see only blank space when I want to work with a certain moment.
Build out each mark until I have a full scene. I do try to go roughly start to finish, but definitely jump back and forth depending on what Iâm feeling most inspired by or what my brain seems to be spitting up ideas about. I also skip ahead whenever I feel stuck, which is both a blessing and a curse.
Go back and string the scenes together. Add transitions, fill in any missing pieces, etc.
Re-read the full thing from start to finish and make final edits. Yay, done!
19. How do you keep yourself motivated?
goooood question fam
I struggle with this as much as the next person (see: 2.5 year G&M hiatus). I havenât discovered a foolproof method of motivation yet (pls advise if you have), but I do tend to feel inspired whenever something reminds me why I want to write this story. That could be thinking about a scene Iâm really excited to share, re-reading a scene that reminds me why I enjoy portraying a certain character or environment -- anything along those lines.
46. Do you reread your own stories?
Yes, the ones that I like! Some things Iâm not particularly proud of and donât go back to very often, but re-reading pieces of writing I do like helps me feel motivated, inspired, and confident.
#thank you so much these were so FUN#asks#gnm asks#lessthanconventional#nausea#just the briefest mention
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Kerense Part 2
This is a continuation of Kerensa - read Part 1 here
Kerensa (Part 1)
Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5 , Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13
Chapter 1, Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Warnings : Just like Keanu in these fics, I don't actually know any of the other real people portrayed here so my versions of them are all supposition!
LA Home?
After a couple of weeks, they moved on to LA. Kerry was Flabbergasted by the size and style of his home. It had a cool feel due to the size of the rooms and the large pieces of art in the main living area which had vast bi-fold doors leading out to the patio and pool. He was most excited to show her his pond with Koi Carp and the breathtaking view.
His office and bedroom were warmer in style, more in keeping with the man and she was thrilled with the kitchen which his sister had designed with herself in mind for when she visited and wanted to cook or for Keanu when he had a caterer come in.
On their first night, they ordered take out and ate outside by the pool. They were both tired from travelling but he promised to take her out to some favourite haunts soon. His bigger priority was making her and Scout feel at home and welcome.
That started with meeting his mum. Having heard a lot about her before he left, his mother, in particular, was very keen to make her acquaintance. She invited them over and had a meal catered.
She was welcoming but there was an edge of scrutiny in her gaze and her questions.
In the car on the way home, Kerry pointed it out.
Itâs just like Jason Robards says in Parenthood. âIt never endsâ
âWhat?â
âWell, your mum was clearly concerned I might be some kind of leach!â
âKerry, she thinks that about everyone I meet, but especially women. But she liked you, I could tell. And you bonded over all your English connections right?â
âI guess!â
Next up was Karina who had them over for Thanksgiving. She was more easygoing than her mother and they had a very relaxed day with Keanu and his brother-in-law bonding over the football and Kerry and Karina enjoying working together in the kitchen.
In the weeks running up to Christmas, their projects were on hiatus and they focussed on getting Kerry acclimatised to LA. Keanu bought her a car (she was not up for driving his Porsche) and they went on bike rides up PCH, took Scout on hikes in local parks and continued her introductions to his friends.
Key amongst them was Alex Winter and his family. They spent a great day on the beach at Malibu with him, his wife and their 2 youngest sons. Alex took a cute pic of Kerry and Keanu there - She had straggly wet hair from messing around in the sea and was wearing a loose shirt over her swimming costume. Her arms were draped around Keanuâs neck and they were both grinning broadly. She liked it so much, she had it printed and framed and placed it on their dressing table. It was one way she could try to settle in.
She certainly felt safe and welcome in his home, but, truth be told, not really at home
Some of that was connected to Scout. There was an inner courtyard where Scout could chill in a shady spot and you could walk him along the road nearby but only in the evening when the surface would be cool enough. To walk the dog, you really needed to go to a park, beach or further out into hills. It wasnât just a stoneâs throw away like at Sennen.
Also, in one sense, the house felt huge but at the same time, claustrophobic. It was curious that she could feel hemmed in despite the space and open view at the back - it was like you couldnât touch the nature that was so near at hand and when she felt like that, the waves of nostalgia for Sennen were powerful.
Another challenge she faced and hadnât really expected had been the number of female friends Keanu had who, it was clear, were past sexual partners. It wasnât that anyone said anything to her, least of all him for whom it was all just water under the bridge, but some of them had an unmistakable body language towards him, while others displayed a certain possessiveness that she found, if not threatening then at least challenging.
She knew heâd had a different life from her, longer in single mode, less settled in one place and with a lot of opportunity to be promiscuous, so she knew she had to accept it, but she also struggled to imagine still hanging out with people youâd been so intimate with in the past as it had been a very rare experience for her.
Fortunately, Karina was a bit of an ally in at least filling in the gaps as to who was or wasnât an ex. Kerry didnât want to come off as jealous or obsessive, so asking Keanu was a no-no, at least at first. One day, Karina had come over to talk Christmas food and caught Kerry staring off into the distance.
âHey, where have you gone?â Karina asked her.
Wha âŠ? oh sorry, nowhere, Iâm right hereâ
â oh no, not falling for THAT. What did he do?â
âKeanu? Nothing. Honest.â
âKerry?â
âHonest he didnât. Itâs just, errm Autumn came over last nightâ
âUghhhâ
âWhat?â
âNothing, sheâs just not my favourite of his exes that still hangs around himâ
âOh so she IS an ex, I wasnât sure and he didnât say soâ
âHe wouldnât, to him itâs ancient history - and it is. They properly dated in the 90s and then Iâm pretty sure she was, you knowâŠ. A friend âŠ..â
âWith benefits?â
âYeah, sometime in the 2000s but not in the past few years. Was she civil to you?â
âYeah yeah, she was just quite, erm touchy with him and sort of â
âPossessive?â
âNot exactly, but she made sure to mention things from way back several times as if to remind me and him that Iâm the new kid. I mean maybe I was being over-sensitive, it was weirdâ
âNaah, thatâs her thing. She didnât manage to clinch him and that still riles her so she hangs in there with the âtrusty oldest friendâ card.
âYeah but sheâs not his oldest friend right? Brenda is from school and that lovely lady Clare is from before her time right?â
âRight, I mean Autumn is from way back but sheâs not the unique one she likes to think.â
Mostly, the exes were subtle in their comments or behaviour but China Chow came close to making Kerry spit her drink out at a Christmas party when she was a bit drunk. She was saying how happy she was to see Keanu happy.
âAnd you my friend are a lucky girl, heâs good between the sheets too huh?, hic!â
The following morning Keanu and Kerry were lying in bed with a coffee, nursing hangovers and doing a party post-mortem.
âOh my God, China was drunk wasnât she?!â Keanu snorted.
âIâll say!â She replied rolling her eyes
âWhat?â
âHave you had sex with all of your female friends?!â She asked pointedly.
âOh my god, what did she say?â
âOh, how happy she is for you âŠ..â
âMmmmm, so?â
âAnd how lucky I amâŠ.and how good you are between the sheetsâ
It was Keanuâs turn to almost spit out his coffee.
âThat must have been awkward.!â
âWell would have been worse if we werenât both at least a little drunkâ
âDo you mind?â âThat I have a past?â he clarified when she looked questioningly at him.
âNo, I just, I never had an ex who I still hung out with after we split so itâs a little weird for me. And theyâre all so, you know, LA glamorous.â
âCome âere.â He said pulling her close after seeing the uncertainty in her eyes.
âItâs you I love, you I want to wake up with every morning and hold in my arms each night. And they're so called glamour is no match for your beauty. And, itâs like, over 10 years ago that I was with any of the friends I still see, sexually. Kerry, I promise. Are we ok?â
âyeah, weâre goodâ she reassured.
And they were. Christmas was around the corner and Kerry enjoyed shopping for gifts, getting a tree and decorating the house. They placed the bird decoration for Ava on the tree and he gave her two angels to hang for her babies and a Celtic fertility symbol in hope of a future as parents. They spent Xmas Day with his mother and Karina and Keanu went on his usual Boxing Day bike ride with old friends while Kerry went to the cinema with Karina.
On 29th they headed back to the UK, where they spent New year with her sister and family and 10 days having catch-ups with friends in London and Cornwall.
By mid-January, they were back in LA and finally, it felt like there would be a period of being more settled. They socialised but there were no more big introductions to make and Kerry planned to crack on with her novel.
@fortheloveoffanfic @kindainlovewithkeanu @omg-imagine @keanureevesisbae @penwieldingdreamer @paperplanesandwallflowers @witty-wallflower @karlee1225 @bitchyslut99 @toomanystoriessolittletime @ladyreapermc @kissmyromanticquote @tacticalchics @utterlynuts @kylosbitch @thebigbubowski @thelightnessofthebeing @gatsbynouvel @keanuficfiles @fanficsrusz @jardaniswife @cheezbort @mazzylana97 @maggiemoo1892 @girlfriday007 @siriussnape07 @yomnaislame @soarocks @fadingkideclipseempath @franny-banks-world @keanulowe @babylovejongin @lucky134ever @jasmindaughteroftheworld @tomorrowsanotherday @fokinqueen @littlefreya @leftyreea @wheretheriversrunintothesea @iworshipkeanureeves @fics-not-tragedies @ficsnroses @fickenstein @popacherryvisitalibrary @aah8903 @thethirstyarchive @cynic-spirit @australianpsychos @meetmeinthematinee
#keanu fanfic#keanu reeves fan fiction#keanu fan fiction#keanu reeves fan fic#keanu#keanu reeves#keanu ofc fiction#keanu reeves imagine
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O3 - âdonât leave meâ
genre: strangers to lovers!au, angst, fluff
pairing: jimin x reader (f)
summary: they say home is where the heart is. youâre convinced yours was taken the day your father died. until you meet jimin.Â
you believe in love but after watching men cycle through your motherâs arms, rocky relations with ex-boyfriends, and broken friendships, you no longer see it in your future. so much so, you never settle in one place long enough to create ties and call it home, choosing a job where youâre always on the go and on your own.Â
on a chance encounter on a flight from new york city to bali, indonesia, you meet. flustered by jiminâs flirty advances but understanding and good-natured tendencies, you start to fall. what starts off as a work-trip soon blossoms into a budding romance, but will jiminâs secret destroy the relationship before itâs had the chance to truly begin?
word count: 10.6k.. lmao
warnings: mentions of anxiety, cursing
a/n: wow itâs been some weeks. school and work are kicking my ass but thank you to that anon who asked if i was still writing. i am. iâm doing my best to balance everything but your comment seriously motivated me to find some time to post this and it is a hell of a long part so i hope that makes up for the semi-hiatus. the next part is my fave part to date and i hope to have that up soon. seriously, all your comments mean the world to me so send them in, even if you think itâs something super small! you could be the difference between something be posted or not lol. anywhooo. thank you again for reading and vi for being my editor in chief. enjoy! :)
full masterlist // series masterlist // previous // next
It was the additional warmth that alerted you that something was wrong. The fogginess of sleep wrestled with your consciousness as your body slowly woke up, the former forcing sleep to tap out. Your legs were cramped beneath you in the seat as youâd curled into yourself, the thin blanket tucked up under your chin like a butterfly in a cocoon. All of these were quite normal, except for the soft material underneath your cheek instead of the scratchy cover of the airline seat. Lifting your head from your makeshift pillow, your eyes focused on the smooth skin of Jiminâs neck. You jerked away, smacking your head against the curve of the airplane. Jimin groaned and turned to face you, his eyes still closed but his eyebrows furrowed.
âJimin!â you hissed, shoving his shoulder away from you. His upper body was still pressed against your knees. âGet up!â
He finally opened his eyes, confusion was written on his face as he squinted from the soft lights filtering into the plane. Jimin shifted back over to his seat and you sighed in relief, still rubbing the back of your head in an attempt to soothe the sore spot. He shoved his hood from his head and ran his fingers through the soft waves of his hair, a few tufts sticking up out of place.
âWhy are you yelling?â he groaned, holding his hands in his head. âItâs early as fuck.â
âI wasnât yelling. And you were crushing me,â you huffed, attempting to stretch your legs out.
âYou werenât complaining a few moments ago,â he countered, his usual grin looking more adorable as he struggled to fully wake up.
You pursed your lips in irritation. It didnât seem to take Jimin long to be back on his bullshit, even if he had just woken up. He stretched beside you, toned arms coming up above his head, the hem of his hoodie rising along with them. You turned your head back to the window, not wanting to be caught staring again. So much for avoiding cuddling into his nice, warm body. If he asked, youâd just blame it on the cold air of the plane.
âLadies and gentlemen, we are beginning our final descent to Hong Kong International Airport. Please secure your tray tables and return your seats to their full upright position. We will be coming through to collect any trash you may still have. Thank you.â
You gasped as you realized youâd overslept and missed the opportunity to have your morning coffee. You rubbed your forehead, already feeling the symptoms of withdrawal hitting you. The in-flight monitor showed that it was almost 10 am in New York, meaning you were already one cup of coffee behind schedule. You could only pray that it wouldnât take long for the next set of passengers to board and the in-flight services could begin again before your impatience truly reared its ugly head.
Shoving open the little plane window cover, you watched as the cityscape of Hong Kong came into view. The bright lights of the tall skyscrapers looked like lighthouses perched on the corner of cliffs and you awed at its modern beauty. It was almost as breathtaking as flying into New York City. You pulled your phone from your sweatpantsâ pocket and took a video as the plane banked left, your brain not too bogged down to recognize a money-making shot when you saw one.
âBeautiful, isnât she?â Jimin whispered over your shoulder, his voice rough from sleep. You nodded, not turning to look at him, not trusting yourself to face him in your coffee-deprived state and question exactly who or what he was referring to.
With a gentle shudder, the aircraft landed on the tarmac and headed to its destination, the passengers on the flight applauding for your safe arrival. The pilot welcomed you to Hong Kong International Airport, telling you the current local time and temperature, and thanking you for flying with Cathay Airlines. At the ding! of the seatbelt sign disappearing, a few passengers rushed to secure their carry ons, no doubt antsy to make it to their connecting flight. You sank back into your seat, silently urging them on so you could be back in the air and on your way to Indonesia.
âOne flight down, only one more to go!â Jimin exclaimed and stepped into the aisle, fully stretching his lean body after double checking no one else was coming behind him. You nodded and combed your fingers through your hair, trying to tame your own bed hair.
After a few idle minutes, you realized that no one else had gotten on the plane. Confused, you propped yourself up to see the front of the plane better. Aside from a few passengers stretching their legs like Jimin, no clean-up crew had boarded to clear the empty seats and restock the plane with food. The rest of the passengers seemed to notice the lack of activity as well.
âExcuse me?â a man a few rows ahead called to a passing stewardess. âIs everything alright?â
âYes sir. Weâre just having a few maintenance issues, but everything should be sorted quickly. No need to worry,â she said with a gentle smile. Maintenance issues? That didnât sound good.
Jimin slipped back into his seat to let the stewardess pass. âDonât look so worried, Shutterfly. Iâm sure itâs nothing.â
You nodded slowly and chewed on your lip. It was already bad that you hadnât been able to see the changes Michael had sent, but now it seemed like your arrival in Bali would be delayed, thwarting your plans even further. Would it be wrong to assume Adeleâs phone call was to blame for your entire trip taking every possible delay and detour? Maybe Michaelâs words had come true and you hadnât planned well enough, your gifts truly leaving you in your time of need.
You busied myself with folding the airplane blanket and tucking it into the back of the seat in an effort to remain calm. It would eventually all be sorted and you could contact Micahel when you finally landed, possibly even convincing him that you deserved an extension because of circumstances out of your control.
âLadies and gentlemen, thank you for your patience. It seems as though our aircraft is having some slight maintenance problems and we will no longer be able to fly to our final destination on this particular plane. Our crew is working diligently to rectify the issue, but weâre going to have to ask you to please leave the aircraft. If you could make your way to the information desk right outside the gate, our associates would be happy to answer any questions you may have about getting you to your final destination. Thank you,â the announcement came over the speakers. An audible groan echoed from the remaining passengers.
âWell, fuck,â Jimin commented, shoving his book and hoodie into his backpack. âWhat a great surprise,â he mumbled.
You didnât move. It was as though her words hadnât truly registered and you blinked a few more times before you honestly understood what was happening. You were going to be late to Bali, your entire itinerary thrown off, not to mention whatever else you needed to add to the video. Your accommodations there would be gone and your deposits with it. Fuck. The familiar tug of anxiety filled your chest as you watched it rise and fall, your breaths coming much easier than you expected, though you felt youâd been submerged underwater for a few minutes. Tears pricked the back of your eyelids as you tried not to cry from frustration.
âShutterfly! Are you coming?â Jimin was already halfway up the aisle, his old backpack slung low on his shoulders as he checked for your whereabouts, holding up the small line that formed behind him.
You grabbed your backpack and shoved your feet back into your sneakers, double-checking the time on your phone. As soon as you got off the plane, you needed to call Michael and update him on the situation. Though you knew he wouldnât be upset with you, the gnawing feeling of guilt hung around your shoulders as you shuffled down the aisle with the rest of the passengers.
Hong Kong International Airport would have stolen your breath away had you been paying proper attention. You took a sharp left after entering the actual terminal, looking for an empty seat in a quiet space where you would be able to hear Michael over the protests of irritated passengers. Dialing his number, you waited for the call to go through but it didnât. You tried again, the same âcall failedâ message popping up on the screen. Checking the number of bars on your phone showed you that you didnât have any service. You stared at your phone, baffled. It wouldnât even connect to the wifi. What in the good Lordâs name were you supposed to do now?
You slumped against the sleek metal column until your body hit the floor in defeat, your brain too frazzled to come up with any bright ideas. Unease wrapped her familiar fingers around your shoulders again. Her gentle whispers echoed in your mind as the uncertainty of the situation before you gripped you tightly. You felt stranded with her on a desolate island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean and she was your only company. You drew your knees into your chest, trying to disappear as if that would make anything better. Frustration grew into anger and tears welled up in your eyes as you pushed up from the ground, backpack secured firmly in your grip, and marched over to the nearest Cathay employee.
âExcuse me?â he turned to face you with a warm smile.
âYes, maâam. How may I help you?â he asked.
âHi. I was on the flight from JFK with the final destination to Bali. They said the plane has some maintenance issues? Whatâs going to happen now? How soon can I get on a flight out of here?â You tried your best to keep your tone neutral as he continued smiling at you.
âFirst, Iâd like to apologize for the inconvenience. Second, weâre not actually sure -â your eyes widened, â- but weâre doing everything we can to fix things,â he finished.
âIâm sorry, what?â you asked. âSo am I just supposed to stay in the airport until you guys fix this?â
âWell, we currently have no flights leaving for Bali that have available seats on them -â
âWait, wait, wait. Youâre telling me that I might have to stay in Hong Kong overnight?â You did nothing to try to hide the panic in your voice, forgetting that you were in a public place.
âItâs quite possible, Miss. Again, Iâm very sorry -â
âWhere am I supposed to sleep then? I canât sleep here!â you wailed, cutting him off again. His eyebrows turned down in annoyance. You were probably being rude, but at this moment in time, you couldnât give a fuck. You were in an unfamiliar country, where they spoke an unfamiliar language, under extremely unfamiliar circumstances. He took a deep breath and exhaled.
âIf you could follow me, I can see if we have any complimentary hotel rooms available as this cancellation was not your fault,â he said, the cheerful customer service tone gone.
You followed him to the Cathay Airlines desk in front of the gate and wrapped your arms around yourself as he spoke with his colleague. It offered no comfort and you bounced with nervous energy as you waited for his verdict. You started to count the number of passengers you recognized from your flight when someone brushed against you and you jumped, your body hyper-aware of any small movement.
âHey, itâs just me.â Jimin. You sighed and relaxed your shoulders slightly. âYou disappeared on me. Is everything okay? You look kind of ill,â he trailed off. You scowled at him and crossed your arms tightly.
âThank you, Jimin. Thatâs just what anyone wants to hear during a time like this,â you said sarcastically. He rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed, and mumbled a small apology. âHow are you not upset about this?â you asked, gesturing to the rest of the people.
He shrugged. âThings change, life happens. Nothing we can really do about it. Just have to figure out the next step. Have you gotten any updates about a new flight leaving?â you nodded.
âHeâs supposed to let me know, but it doesnât sound like itâs going to be good news,â you replied, chewing on your lip again.
âSo we could be stuck here overnight?â
âItâs quite possible,â you told him bitterly, repeating the same words said to you. Jimin hummed in thought and excused himself, promising he would be right back. It was at this moment that the employee returned, his colleague in tow.
âWell, Miss -â
âY/L/N,â you filled in.
âMiss. Y/L/N, my name is Joy and I am a manager at Cathay Airlines. Again, I would like to apologize for the inconvenience this has caused you. Unfortunately, all of our complimentary rooms have been given away at this moment in time and it seems as though our next departing flight to Bali, Indonesia with available seats will not be leaving until tomorrow afternoon. As of right now, I can only offer you a discount on your next flight with us and a free upgrade to business class,â she finished, her smile almost as sorry as the deal she was offering you.
You inhaled deeply and tried to swallow the bitterness threatening to spill from your lips. The combination of anxiety, anger, and coffee withdrawal had left you with nothing kind to say and Adele had been around enough to teach you good manners.
âWell Jennie, that fucking sucks. Are there any places you could recommend that have available spaces? Or a partner airline that could - I donât know - actually have working planes and could get me to my final destination?â you asked, some of the bitterness slipping in there somehow. Jennieâs smile tightened just as Jimin returned.
âSorry, sheâs not really a morning person,â he said apologizing and tucking you tightly under his arm. âYou said there were no flights available until tomorrow afternoon, correct?â
âYes, sir. Weâre doing our best to get everyone on their way as soon as we can,â she answered, her smile brightening at his presence.
âIâm sure you are -â he leaned down slightly to read her name tag, â- Joy. If you could be so kind as to make sure that weâre sitting together whenever you sort those arrangements out, I would seriously appreciate it.â You opened your mouth to protest but Joy was already agreeing.
âOf course Mr. -â
âPark,â
âPark?â She stared at him puzzled before her eyes lit up. âThatâs Korean, isnât it? Do you speak Korean?â she asked excitedly. âIâve been trying to practice.â You stared at her incredulously, but Jimin entertained the conversation to your dismay.
âAs a matter of fact, I do. How long have you -â
âJimin,â you butted in, twisting in his grip. âJoy is a busy woman. In fact, she was about to go and get some information about places to stay since there are no flights leaving today. Iâm sure you could have this conversation -â
âOh, no need to worry about that, Shutterfly. Iâve already got that taken care of, but youâre right. Joy is a busy woman so we should let her get back to work,â Jimin said, beaming down at you, his smile easing some of your pent up frustration.
âDavid,â Joy turned to the man who had originally tried to help me, âplease add Miss. Y/L/N under Mr. Parkâs reservation for tomorrowâs flight.â
âIâll need your first name, Miss. Y/L/N,â David told you. âFor security purposes,â he added after you continued to stare at him without giving an answer.
âCanât you just look it up under the old reservation?â
âOh come on, Shutterfly. Donât be difficult. Donât you want to go grab some breakfast?â Jimin cooed while squeezing your shoulder. Youâre sure you looked like any angry bull as your nostrils flared. Of course, the Universe would be on Jiminâs side to have it so that you couldnât not give him your name if you wanted to secure a seat that Joy seemed so determined to give Jimin. Getting to Bali as soon as possible trumped holding out on Jimin. Unfortunately.
âY/N. Y/N Y/L/N,â you grumbled, arms still crossed, and pouted at your game ending. Jiminâs smile widened and David nodded, heading back to the desk to input the information.
âThank you so much, Joy. For everything,â Jimin emphasized and squeezed your shoulder again. âGood luck with your Korean!â he added and started to steer you away.
âYouâre welcome, Mr. Park! Please enjoy your time in Hong Kong!â she called after you. Jimin pulled you away from the crowd and you struggled to keep up as one of his steps was almost two of yours.
âJimin, slow down!â you yelled and finally tugged his arm from around you. âWhere the fuck are you going?â
âTo get breakfast. What do you mean? Arenât you hungry?â he asked, confused as he stared down at you.
âJimin, what about the rest of our luggage? Well, I don't know if you did, but I have a checked bag. I canât just leave -â
âY/N,â the way your name sounds coming from his mouth had you pausing, your own mouth open mid-sentence, âyour luggage is fine. They hold it until you can get on the next flight. You still have the original tag they gave you, right?â You nodded. âThen youâre all set. Come on! Youâll think and feel better once you have some food in you. And some coffee.â
At the mention of your favorite beverage, you let Jimin lace his fingers through your own and lead you further through the international arrivals terminal in search of somewhere to eat. You sighed and ran your fingers through your hair again, dodging the occasional traveler in this unfamiliar airport, in an unfamiliar city, with a slightly less unfamiliar man for company.
Though Jimin was optimistic about finding breakfast at 2:30 am, you were not. After walking through the terminal for 25 minutes and trying to convince Jimin that no sane business would be open right now - to which he responded that there had to be at least one - he had finally given up after passing the same vending machine for the second time.
âOkay, maybe you were right,â he mumbled and set his bag on the floor as he plopped down into an empty seat at a vacated gate and you hummed in agreement. He pushed his hand through his hair and let his head fall over the edge of the seat. You checked your phone again to see if you had any service, and was disappointed to see that there still wasnât. You sighed quietly and sat next to Jimin.
âWhatâs wrong?â
âWhy do you think somethingâs wrong?â
âYouâre chewing your lip again,â he pointed out. Your cheeks warmed as you realized he was right and you released your lower lip. You were surprised he had noticed your unconscious behavior and you resisted the urge to do it again, instead settling on playing with the sleeves of your hoodie.
âI just - I have a really big project to complete in Bali and with this delay, Iâm not sure if I can get it all done. Iâve been trying to get in touch with my manager, but my stupid fucking phone doesnât have any stupid service right now so I -â
âDo you want to use mine?â he asked, cutting you off and offering you his phone. You stared at him. âSeriously, no worries. I have an international plan that automatically connects when I travel. Here,â he said while unlocking his phone and shoving it into your hands. âIâm going to the restroom. Iâll be right back.â
He didnât wait for you to say yes before he was already halfway down the hallway. You tapped the screen of his phone before it locked again and dialed Michaelâs number, grateful for the privacy. Bouncing your leg, you prayed he would answer the unknown number.
âMichael Callahan. Who is this?â
âOh, Michael!â You sobbed out in relief after finally hearing his voice.
âY/N? Is everything okay? What happened to your phone?â he asked, the concern quite evident in his voice. âWere you robbed?! Oh my gosh, Y/N -â
âNo, Michael!â you assured him. âFor some reason, my phone plan isnât working. Iâm using someone elseâs right now.â
âOh, that blasted Phillip. I told him to make sure your phone plan was taken care of as I had to step into a meeting - you know I would have done it myself - and I guess he forgot. Sweetheart, Iâm so sorry. Iâll get Elise on it right now. Elise!â he screamed away from the phone for his secretary. âYouâre in Bali now, right?â he confirmed.
âUm, no. Not yet.â
âWhat do you mean not yet?â
âWell, the plane had some maintenance issues and they couldnât fly us out tonight. Iâm in Hong Kong instead. Weâre supposed to fly out tomorrow,â you explained.
âBy yourself?! Where are you going to sleep? Oh honey no! Let me see what -â
âIâm not technically by myself,â you mumbled, just as Jimin was making his way towards you.
âWhat do you mean by âtechnicallyâ, Y/N?â Michael asked.
âJust another passenger. Itâs his phone Iâm using. He seems nice,â you trailed off as Jimin sat down next to you, not wanting to talk about him while he was sitting within earshot. He flashed you a thumbs up and you returned it awkwardly, trying to calm down Michaelâs growing apprehension.
âY/N, you canât just walk around Hong Kong with a stranger! And a man that you barely know?! Honey, how are you going to survive?â you rolled your eyes as the dramatics started to roll in. âYou donât even know Cantonese. If weâre quite honest, you can barely speak Korean. I knew Adele should have -â
âWerenât you the one who told me to live in the moment? Iâll be okay Michael, just please get my phone on as soon as possible and add an additional travel notice on the card for Hong Kong so I can get something to eat. Iâll text you every hour on the hour with updates. This is Jiminâs number. Save it if you need to call me and my phone isnât working. Thank you, Michael. Youâre the best! I love you!â you hung up before he could protest.
âIs everything alright?â Jimin asked warily.
âYep!â you chirped. âAbsolutely!â Jiminâs eyes widened at your quick change in demeanor. âWhat do we do now?â Though it was almost 3:30 am and your stomach had started to grumble; your body was still on Eastern Standard Time.
âWell, I have a friend who lives here. He owns a hostel maybe 35 minutes away? I know we need some place to stay and I called him, explained what happened, and heâs more than willing to put us up for the night. Iâm not sure if youâre down, but I knew it would be a lot cheaper than whatever hotel Joy was going to offer,â he replied.
You hesitated. Jimin was very much so a stranger. You had only had, at most, three full conversations. You only knew his first and last name, no idea what his actual occupation was and didnât even know where he was from. He could quite honestly be some maniac looking to lure a pure, innocent girl to her doom. That girl being you. You bit your lip. Then again, you were already here alone, and if you didnât go with Jimin, you would be alone in the very large, very empty Hong Kong International Airport. Deciding to take Michaelâs words to heart, you decided to enjoy the moment and sent up a silent prayer that God had not decided your life would end at the hands of a certain toned-thighed man in the middle of the night.
âNo, that sounds great. Thank you for including me,â you told him. He nodded and smiled.
âOf course. Iâll tell him to come get us.â
45 minutes later, you and Jimin were seated in the back of William Xiaoâs trusty pickup truck along with his trusty sidekick Rosaline, a golden retriever. You had pictured William to be a younger man around Jiminâs age, but he was actually older - around mid-fifties - with greying hair. He navigated the streets of the city of Victoria easily in the early morning, the traffic was light as most people were still asleep. It was your favorite time and you felt relaxed against the leather seats as the wind lifted your hair, a small smile on your face. The tall skyscrapers glided past as you zoomed down the highway.
âSo how long are you staying in Hong Kong this time, Chim?â William asked as he took the next exit.
âAh, not long actually. We leave tomorrow hopefully,â Jimin responded, glancing over at you.
âAnd youâre going where again?â
âBali. In Indonesia,â he repeated. William seemed to be a little forgetful and you chuckled at the thought.
âRight, right. And how long are you two staying there for?â he asked again.
âIâm not sure about Y/N,â his leg bumped against yours as William turned left, âbut Iâll be there for maybe 2 weeks? I havenât decided yet,â Jimin replied.
âUm, Iâm there for 10 days. Well, I guess 9 now,â you corrected. You tried not to think about the impromptu changes. William nodded and continued driving through the empty streets, the car silent until Rosaline started barking.
âOh be quiet old girl. I know we are almost home,â he hushed her and patted her head, her tail wagging excitedly in the seat.
William slowed and pulled his truck over to the side of the street. You stared out the window confused as you could only see small eateries. The street was actually filled with them, with everything from noodles to dumplings and rice bowls. Your mouth watered at the sight, though they all seemed to be closed and you frowned.
âWhereâs the hostel?ïżœïżœïżœ you asked Jimin, turning to face him as William hopped out of his truck.
âYouâre looking at it,â Jimin said and pointed to a narrow doorway right in front of where the truck was parked. Your brows deepened further in confusion. He laughed. âDonât worry, youâll see.â
He exited the truck and you accepted his hand as you hopped down and shut the door, the distance much greater for you than Jimin. Rosaline greeted you on the sidewalk and you and Jimin showered her with love as she ran between you, clearly happy about the attention.
âAlright, Rosie. Calm down. You are going to wake the customers up,â William chided as he walked up the three steps of the narrow doorway and entered a passcode before ushering the three of you inside. He used a set of keys to open the second door and you entered the small lobby.
Williamâs hostel was airy and light, the pale grey walls with turquoise accents complementing each other well. A tiny front desk sat next to a glass door that read âOfficeâ and a few turquoise chairs were positioned on the opposite side of the room. Different abstract paintings lined the wall above them, adding a touch of personality to the otherwise simple room. You were taken aback by how much space actually seemed to be available for use.
âThis is lovely,â you complimented, walking over to get a better look. âI really like the artwork.â William beamed at you.
âWhy thank you! They were a gift from Jimin,â he added. Jimin received the praise awkwardly and focused his attention on scratching Rosalineâs tummy.
Suddenly, the office door burst open and a petite woman stomped out while loudly whispering in what you assumed to be Cantonese. The two had a heated exchange while she angrily waved about a set of chopsticks and you worried she might poke poor Williamâs eyes out. It was only after William gestured behind him towards you that she peeked around William and spotted Jimin. Her face immediately brightened and she nearly ran to him, throwing her arms around his waist and giving him a tight squeeze. Jimin laughed as the two of them exchanged words and you stared at him in wonder at his knowledge of the native language. It was then that she finally noticed you.
âUh, hi,â you said shyly, your face heating up slightly. You waved at her. âIâm Y/N. Itâs nice to meet you.â She looked at Jimin expectantly. He translated and she nodded and waved back at you. You smiled.
âY/N, this is Sonia, Williamâs wife. They run the hostel together,â Jimin explained.
âMy wife only knows a little English. I am sorry,â William started to apologize.
âOh no! Please donât apologize. Iâm sure we can communicate somehow,â you waved him off. Sonia said something to Jimin again and turned to you.
âHungry?â she asked and made the motion to eat. You nodded furiously and she grinned. She beckoned you to follow her and took your hand, leading you to the office. Your eyes widened as you passed Jimin and he gave you an encouraging smile. He mouthed that he would be right there.
The office space was compact but functional. There was a little table and cushions as seats, a small refrigerator in the corner, and a few file cabinets tucked against the wall. Sonia gestured to the table for you to sit as she passed through another door, bringing three sets of chopsticks and bowls with her. You made to stand and help her, but she shooed you away so you sat quietly as she set the table. Jimin entered and you smiled at him, reassured at his presence.
âYou didnât tell me you could speak Cantonese!â you declared.
âYou never asked,â he replied with a shrug as he sat across from you. âWilliamâs gone to find us a room. Iâm not sure if he has one with double occupancy, but he said he would check and see. I hope thatâs okay.â You nodded as Sonia returned and placed a steaming plate of noodles in front of you.
âYou eat, yes?â she asked. You nodded again and Sonia smiled as she served you and Jimin a large helping. You thanked her, grateful, and tucked in. Moaning in delight, you almost missed the way Jiminâs eyebrows shot up towards his hairline.
âWhat?!â you giggled. âItâs really, really good.â Jimin only chuckled as he filled his mouth with food. Sonia set some drinks down in front of you before she sat down herself.
âHow long have you and William been working at the hostel?â you asked after your stomach no longer felt like it was touching your spine.
â20 years,â Jimin translated around a mouth full of noodles.
âWow! And youâve been married that long too?â
âTheyâve been married for 35 actually. Sonia used to work as a chef before she started helping William out,â Jimin answered.
You silently awed at her resilience and courage. Sonia was probably married at your age and starting a family while you were here wallowing in self-pity over a man who had proved to you time and time again that he didnât want you. You shook the thoughts from your head so as to not ruin the end of a great night and instead focused on the flavor of Soniaâs cooking, the spiciness of the sauce welcomed.
The three of you made small talk as Jimin translated for Sonia and yourself. She was a remarkable woman who was headstrong and did as she pleased, much to the dismay of her husband. Her beauty did not leave her as she showed you some pictures from when she and William first got together; her face remained the same except for a few deep smile lines and the occasional silver streak through her shoulder-length hair. The two of them balanced each other out and you could only admire their love story as Jimin helped her with the dishes in the other room and Rosaline came to rest her head on your thighs.
âWell, it seems like I only have one room available for the two of you. I hope that is okay, Y/N,â William said as he poked his head around the door. He sniffed. âWas that black bean noodles?â You nodded and giggled as he called for Sonia, heading through the other open door. Jimin emerged with a key in his hand, snickering.
âWilliam is quite upset Sonia didnât save him some black bean noodles, though Iâm sure I saw her set some aside for him in the fridge,â he laughed. âI told them Iâd tell you goodnight. He told you about the room?â
âYeah,â you replied, still petting Rosalineâs head and lost in your thoughts.
âAlright, I guess we can go then. Itâs almost 5:45 am and we should definitely get some sleep to be on Hong Kong time.â
âWhat was it that you said? âReset the Circadian rhythm before Baliâ was it?â you asked, mocking him. He rolled his eyes and grabbed your backpack.
âYouâll thank me one day, Shutterfly,â he warned as he held the office door open for you. âThis way.â
You followed Jimin past the tiny desk and into the main common area with a little lounge and kitchen area set up for breakfast; you beamed when you saw the pots of coffee all cleaned and ready to go. Your body buzzed in anticipation and you couldnât wait to smell the dark roast in the morning. You continued through to a set of stairs and climbed up to the fourth floor, your legs protesting another step as you realized how truly out of shape you were.
Room 408 was basically nonexistent. You had heard about the tiny rooms in Asia, but actually seeing one was astonishing. A thin wardrobe stood facing the bathroom door which was equally as boxy, but you were grateful that you didnât have to share as you had heard other hostels do. The walls were painted the same grey color as downstairs but lacked the artwork. The full-sized bed took up the majority of the space in the room, a small nightstand table on its right side. You bit my lip as you thought about having to share the bed with Jimin, knowing how cramped we already were on the plane.
âIsnât this cute?â Jimin murmured as he set your bags at the foot of the bed after shutting the door and held up the two small plush bears sitting on top of the towels. You laughed uncomfortably as you took the toy from him and set it on the dresser.
âDo you have a side of the bed you prefer?â you asked quietly, standing in the middle of the room, tugging on the sleeves of your hoodie.
âNope,â Jimin replied, popping the âpâ. âLadyâs choice.â He gestured to the bed and you blushed.
âCool, well do you mind if I take a shower first?â He shook his head as he pulled out his book and phone charger. âCool, cool. Iâll be fast,â you told him and shut yourself in the bathroom quickly with your backpack and one of the towels.
You exhaled and massaged your scalp as you tried to channel tranquility. There was nothing to be afraid of. It was only sleeping in a bed with a man. Something youâd done numerous times, both platonically and romantically throughout your life. This would be nothing different. Except it was Jimin. A man that knew how to adjust AF fine-tune on pricey cameras, read books for fun, and also spoke multiple languages. You groaned and turned on the hot water. You thought you had shut all thoughts of Jimin away in that tiny airplane stall, but you guess youâd missed a few stragglers.
The water pressure was weak when you stepped in but you were appreciative that the water was still hot at this time in the morning. You took a quick shower, wanting to save some of it for Jimin. It was steamy when you stepped out and you wiped the oval mirror clear with your hands. Your hair was slightly damp and your skin was flushed from the steam. You tugged on the sleep shirt youâd packed in your bag yesterday morning as well as a clean pair of panties that you always carried in your carry on in times of emergencies, glad youâd remembered to do so for this trip. Jimin turned his head towards you as you cracked the door open to peer around it, shielding your lower body from his gaze.
âAll done?â he asked. You nodded. âI think Michael texted you? Oh, and the password for the wifi is written here, just in case you need it,â he said, holding up a piece of paper from the nightstand. You nodded again.
âDonât look,â You told him quite seriously, pointing a warning finger towards him.
âAre you going to poke me with your finger if I donât?â he teased, turning your words back on you and you were glad that your skin was already flushed so he couldnât tell you were embarrassed again. âIâll step out so you can sort out what you need. Shout when youâre done.â He padded out into the hallway and slowly closed the door behind him. You sighed in gratitude and slipped out of the bathroom, double-checking your cameras were still okay before plugging your phone charger into an outlet and diving under the covers.
âYou can come in!â you yelled. Jimin double-checked that the coast was clear before he locked the door behind him and rummaged through his things. As he entered the bathroom, you set up the wifi on your phone and thumbed a quick message to Michael telling him you were safe and well-fed. His message came immediately after.
Michael: Thank God! I was so worried. What is this Jiminâs last name? You know we can never be too careful. [6:01].
Park. He seems alright. I took a shower and he didnât try to kill me so I guess thatâs a good sign. [6:02]
Michael: Y/N, this is no time to make jokes about your life; Iâve already asked for his social security number to give to police if anything seems suspicious. Please send me the address of where you are, just in case. Also, Elise said that your phone should be working now. What time are you supposed to leave Hong Kong? [6:04].
Michael you canât just ask people that! Tell her I said thank you. And I will. Iâll get it from William in the morning. Theyâre supposed to put us on a flight tomorrow afternoon. Iâll update you as I find out more. Itâs six in the morning here and I need to reset my Circadian rhythm apparently [6:06].
Iâll call you in the morning and we can talk about the video after I look at the suggestions [6:07].
Michael: If youâre alive by then⊠[6:07].
Michael: And who is this William?! Why are there so many men where you are and why was I not invited?! [6:08].
Michael! And William is the guy who owns the hostel. Heâs like 55 and MARRIED. [6:08].
Michael: As if thatâs ever stopped me ;) [6:09].
Michael: Kidding! Sort of. Please call me if you need anything. I donât care what time it is. Be safe. Love you Y/N [6:09].
Even though youâre probably going to Hell, love you Michael [6:10].
You locked your phone just as Jimin exited the bathroom, steam wafting from behind him. Black basketball shorts hung low on his hips, the waistband of his Calvin Kleins peeking through as he finished towel drying his hair. His thin grey shirt clung to his chest from it not being completely dry and you sank further into the sheets. You covered your face and took a deep breath. It was just one night together in the same bed. It would all be fine.
âDid you get to talk to Michael?â he asked while sitting on the edge of the bed. You nodded. âGood. I didnât want him to think I had kidnapped you and held you hostage before I murdered you.â You snorted as you sat up.
âHe didnât actually say that,â you laughed. âRight?â You stopped when Jimin didnât correct you. âOh my gosh, Jimin! Iâm so sorry. Michael is almost as dramatic as he is protective and Iâm sure he didnât mean to -â
âJimin?â Of course, he would focus on only one part of what you said.
âThatâs your name isnât it? What people call you?â you asked, fidgeting with the end of the sheet, now wondering if youâd missed something.
âYes, but I like the way you say it more,â he said with a grin, his wavy hair falling into his eyes. You groaned and threw the other small plush bear at him. He caught it easily.
âAre you always like this?â you interrogated.
âLike what? Devilishly handsome?â Jimin wiggled his eyebrows at you and you laughed again.
âNo, extremely insufferable,â you replied. He laughed and the sound bounced off the walls, wrapping you up in its tone. He covered his mouth to try and stifle the sound. His grin cracked through him biting his lip, and you bit your own in response.
âFor someone who finds me so insufferable, you sure do mirror my actions a lot,â he said with a chuckle. You released your lower lip and blushed.
âYou are so cocky, Park Jimin!â
âI mean, once you Jim-in, you canât Jim-out!â He shot you the finger guns before he realized what he had actually said. âI mean, not that Iâm trying to fuck you -â your eyes widened â- I mean, if youâre down for that then I am too. 100%. Like seriously, fuck. I just meant that it wasnât my intention to -â you hollered into the pillow as the words tumbled from his mouth. His smile was shy as he stood from the bed and set the bear on the nightstand with its partner. âWe should go to sleep,â he mumbled and switched off the light. He cursed as he stubbed his toe on the corner of the wrought iron bed frame and you could only continue giggling at his misfortune.
âIâm glad my pain amuses you,â he said into the dark, his voice much closer than you expected. âDid you set an alarm?â You shook your head and he set one on his phone as he plugged both of your phones up to charge. He scooted back down and wiggled around like a dog circling their bed until he was comfortable, his back now facing you. âGoodnight Y/N,â he whispered over his shoulder.
âGoodnight Jimin,â you breathed.
You laid still on your back, your arms crossed over your stomach as you listened to Jiminâs breathing slow. The space between you was microscopic and you were acutely aware of the heat radiating from his body as the air conditioning blasted from the unit in the window. You turned over onto your side gingerly, facing the wall. It had been a while since you were in bed with a man and Jiminâs flustered words echoed in your brain as you pressed my thighs together. Speculating that he was interested in you was one thing, but having him admit it - even if it was only sexually - was conflicting. You scrunched your eyes shut tight as you locked away any inappropriate thoughts of what it would be like to not âJim-outâ.
You sighed in content as you pressed your body closer to his chest. One of his strong arms wrapped around your torso, the other tucked under your head, and his breath tickled the back of your neck as he quietly snored behind you. Your fingers traced along the curve of his palm while your brain slowly came to. Your legs were tangled under the sheet, intertwined with one another as you ran your foot up the back of his calf, surprised by the lack of hair you felt; Tiagoâs legs were never this smooth.
Squinting in the lazy haze of the sunlight that peeked from underneath the curtain above you, you turned over. Instead of seeing tight blond curls lying against the pillow, you were met with the faint traces of black bean noodles and soft black waves. Opening your eyes properly, your eyes focused on Jiminâs parted lips. You jolted as you realized his soft embrace had caused you to remember your moments with Tiago. You stiffened when Jiminâs hand tightened around your waist and he pressed his hand against the small of your back, your t-shirt having ridden up in the middle of the night. It was then that you realized his own t-shirt had been discarded and your arms were trapped against his chest, his gold chain pooled around his neck.
Shit. You didnât want to wake him, but you needed to get out of his hold, the triggering memories of Tiago too much to handle in this state. You tried to gently press against his chest with your arms, but Jimin only shuffled closer. You watched his eyebrows furrow in discomfort as your legs bumped one anotherâs before he ran his hand over the curve of your ass, along the back of your thigh, and hooked your leg over his hip. Your hips were perfectly aligned. You held your breath as Jimin exhaled, his face neutral, at peace and he rested his head on top of yours.
You pushed against his chest again and he groaned softly in his sleep as he rolled onto his back, not forgetting to bring your leg with him. Your head was against his bare chest and you heard the soft thump! of his heart. You closed your eyes and listened to it, lost in its steady beat for a moment before you remembered that you were trying to get out of his grasp and not succumb to it.
Pressing up onto your elbow, you double-checked he was still sleeping before you shifted to hover over him. Your knees were over his hips taking all of your weight as you tried your best not to press into the pillow with your hands, but not letting your ass brush against his lower abdomen. His abdominal muscles were almost as tight as the ones in his thighs and just as defined. You remembered his comment suggesting you should have asked to sit in his lap and you bit back a smile at your current predicament. Jimin shifted beneath you again and you froze, your smile dropping. He settled again and you exhaled; your heart couldnât handle the back and forth.
The vibration of your phone startled you and you stumbled out of the bed to silence the call, nearly dragging the rest of the sheets off Jimin.
âHello?â you answered in a whisper. You adjusted the sheets around his sleeping frame as he rolled over onto this stomach, his arm stretching out into your vacated spot.
âY/N, why havenât you called me back?â Adeleâs voice rang out over the line. Had you seen it was her, you would have ignored the call. You slipped into the bathroom after grabbing your toothbrush and prayed the door would muffle some of the conversation.
âIâve been on a plane, Adele. I haven't exactly had service to call anyone,â you stated, matter-of-factly.
âWell, where are you now? And why are you speaking so quietly?â she questioned.
âA hostel in Hong Kong. I donât want to -â
âHostel?!â she shrieked. âOh Y/N darling, I know I raised you better than to wallow in low-class establishments like hostels,â she continued. You could picture the look of disgust on her face. You did not have enough energy to deal with her in your coffee-withdrawn state. Your temper was short.
âItâs actually very clean. We all canât afford to live in unnecessary luxury like you, Adele,â you said while brushing your teeth. You spat at the thought of her in her high-end clothes and brownstone home paid for by different men.
âYour brother didnât seem to mind the high-end luxury when he was here,â she replied smugly. you paused.
âWhen he was where?â you asked.
âHome. With me.â Her shit-eating tone was quite evident. âBut you wouldnât have known that.â
âMilo came home?â you asked again in disbelief.
Your relationship with your younger brother wasnât as strained as your motherâs, but you werenât on the best of terms either. You hadnât seen him in five years. You still remembered how peaceful he looked as he slept when you kissed him goodbye. His calls and messages eventually stopped after a few months of you not answering.
âOf course he came home,â Adele snapped. âMiles enjoys spending time with his mother.â
You ignored her dig towards me. âHow long is he staying?â
âHmm, Iâm not sure. Maybe you should have told me you were in New York and not run off on the next available flight -â
âYou know, at this point, Iâm not convinced Milo even came by. Youâre just gaslighting me to come home after all these years and itâs not going to happen, Adele. Stop wasting your time and stop calling my phone outside of emergencies,â your voice slightly raised as you rinsed your toothbrush off in the sink.
âYouâve become so bitter, Y/N. I never forced you to leave; you left on your own accord -â
âYou didnât want me!â you yelled into the phone.
âIf thatâs what you want to believe, then fine,â she said indifferently. âIâll prove to you I wasnât lying about Milo,â she sneered. She never liked the nickname you gave her son. Her prized possession.
âDonât call him that,â you growled, the emotion welling up in your chest.
âIâll call him whatever I want. Youâre lucky I was in a good mood when I gave him your number and I hadnât spoken to you before -â
âGoodbye, Adele.â You hung up the phone and braced yourself against the sink.
Your body shook as you tried to process what exactly had occurred. Milo was back in New York. Your precious baby brother was back home. Unless Adele was manipulating you again, Milo could be reaching back out after you had fucked your relationship up. She had given him your number. A sob wracked your shoulders and you covered your mouth to stifle the sound. Silent tears ran down your cheeks and you wiped them away furiously, upset that you were wasting tears on a situation so old.
âShutterfly?â you gasped as you turned to face the door, a sleepy Jimin poking his head around it. âHey, are you okay? You werenât in bed - Wait, are you crying?â He pushed the door open further and stepped inside.
âNo,â you lied and turned back to the sink, splashing your face with cold water. You pleaded with the Lord that he wouldnât be able to see your shoulders shake as you tried to control your breathing. You shut off the water as Jimin turned you to face him.
âY/N, whatâs wrong?â He held your face in his hands, searching it for the answer to his question. You felt small under his gaze and extremely conscious of the little amount of clothes you were both wearing. You shook your head, trying to tell him it was nothing, that you were fine. âOkay, we donât have to talk about it. Can I give you a hug instead?â
âNo,â you whispered. âIâd prefer if you didnât right now.â He stroked his thumbs against your cheeks once more before he let go and stepped back. You didnât miss the flicker of disappointment that flashed against his face as he nodded. You inhaled and exhaled deeply, finally feeling like you were back in control. âI would prefer if you brushed your teeth though. Your breath smells like noodles,â tiy said as you squeezed past him.
Jiminâs 10:30 am alarm went off as you were heading downstairs for breakfast, his teeth brushed and both of you dressed. You practically sprinted to the coffee machine and chose the biggest cup possible. There were a few other guests milling around the lounge area as breakfast was officially over, but Sonia had prepared something extra for you and Jimin knowing we were still extremely jetlagged, the 12 hour time difference taking a toll on your bodies.
Jimin was dressed casually again. A pair of olive green slim cargo shorts, an oversized black t-shirt, and the same black, white, and grey Jordans on his feet. His hair fell into his face as he helped himself to the instant noodles and fried egg Sonia served him, the two of them looking like mother and son as they chatted. It seemed as though Jimin also followed the same âpack additional clothes in your carry onâ rule.
You sighed as you took your first sip of coffee, hugging the cup protectively between both hands. Closing your eyes in bliss, you let the hot drink soothe your nerves from last night and this morning, your conversation with Adele almost a distant memory. The energy flowed through you as you opened your laptop to read Juliaâs updates, finally feeling prepared to handle whatever was thrown at you.
Hello Y/N!
Julia here. Thank you again for taking on our project. Michael was right to recommend you; your portfolio is absolutely stunning. As you know, weâre looking to promote our getaway package in Bali. Though we do want high-quality content, the company was wondering if you would be able to deliver a more âamateurâ romantic feel. Weâre marketing towards couples and would love to see some shots that represent that. You donât have to be in any of the shots yourself, but it would be great if you could! I understand this is quite short notice, but I have complete faith in your ability to deliver.
Please do not hesitate to contact me if you have any further questions!
Best,
Julia.
She had attached a few photographs of smiling couples on the beach and at dinner for reference. You groaned and rubbed your temples. You didnât think there was enough coffee in the world that would be able to address these minor inconveniences. Intimacy was not your thing. Romance was not your thing. Love was not your thing, and yet here Julia was telling you to make those things a thing. A reality. You gulped down another mouthful of coffee, burning your tongue in the process.
âFood?â Sonia asked, pushing a plate across the wooden bench table in front of you. You smiled in thanks and began eating though not really tasting the food. Jiminâs eyes watched you carefully and you sighed, already knowing he was going to ask you if you were okay.
âJust work stuff, Jimin, nothing to worry about,â you said.
âYou make it hard to not worry about you though,â he murmured, avoiding your eyes. âSonia said you shouldnât be working while youâre here, that you need to enjoy the city before you go,â he added.
âTell her I have a really big project to complete and I appreciate her concern, but I canât just ignore work,â you replied, pushing your fried egg around your bowl. Jimin translated again and Sonia shook her head before walking away. You hoped you hadnât offended her.
âIs this for your Saipan video?â he asked. You shook your head.
âI got contracted by a travel company to create a âvlogâ type advertisement for a getaway package theyâre selling to Bali. Julia, the contact, sent over some new additions while we were on the flight and Iâm not sure how Iâm going to get it done, but they expect me to deliver, especially since Michael recommended me,â you finished.
âWhat exactly do you have to do?â
âBasically be in love and capture it on film.â Your mouth turned down in disgust at the thought. Jimin laughed at you. You turned your laptop to face him so he could read the email to show him you weren't joking.
âThat doesnât seem so hard,â he commented after he was done.
âFor you.â
âOh come on, Y/N. Love is a beautiful thing. Itâs everywhere if you think about it. I mean, look at Sonia and William. Donât you remember the first time you fell in love? The pleasure it brought you, the happiness. You canât tell me you donât want to experience love like that again,â he said seriously.
You faked thinking about it. âNope. I think Iâm good.â You stood and poured yourself a second cup of coffee, wishing you could pour all the memories of Tiago down the drain. Especially after this morning. You tugged on your ears, the blood rushing to them as usual.
âThatâs what you think, but Iâm sure I can change your mind,â he said with his shit-eating grin. You rolled your eyes. âIâm serious, Shutterfly. All you need is my true love and affection -â Jimin was interrupted by Sonia dragging William over to you, an envelope in her hands. She shoved it in his and waited for him to start speaking.
âUh,â William scratched the back of his head, âSonia wanted me to give these to you.â He handed the envelope to you. Sonia smacked his shoulder and gestured for him to continue before she turned her expectant gaze on you. âShe said you should not worry about work and you should go and enjoy Hong Kong so she is gifting you with tickets to the Hong Kong Museum of Fine Art. It is a ten-minute walk and Jimin can show you his -â
â- favorite exhibits. Right. Thank you, William and Sonia,â Jimin interjected.
âYouâll go, right?â Sonia asked eagerly. You opened your mouth to protest but didnât have the heart to say no to her in her bunny apron. Not when she had worked so hard to make sure you were comfortable and well-fed. But also because you didnât want her to attack you with her wooden chopsticks. You nodded and she clapped in excitement before she started going off a mile a minute at William who cowered slightly away from her. Jimin chuckled at their interaction.
âIsnât love amazing, Y/N?â he said wistfully as he cleared the table. You rolled your eyes and texted Michael that youâd seen the email, Julia was out of her mind, but you would do your best to complete the task so you wouldnât disappoint along with the address of the hostel.
After returning your laptop to your shared room, you and Jimin set off for the museum in the sweltering sun. You were overjoyed that youâd chosen to wear your dark t-shirt from yesterday, though you were still conscious of your sweat stains being visible. Jimin looked elated as you walked through the busy streets and you struggled to keep up, your own Jordans way out of time with his own.
 âSo you have favorite exhibits here?â you asked slightly out of breath. He slowed as if he just realized how far behind you were.
âYeah, I was here a few months ago and stopped by. They have some pretty cool stuff here.â
You continued walking and you gasped as the museum came into view. Perched on the edge of the water, the building stretched along the harbor. Its walls were textured and stone grey. Clear blue windows peeked through the exterior and there was a steady stream of people loitering outside. You wished youâd brought your camera as you snapped a few photos of the impressive architecture on your phone.
Inside was just as magnificent with its low lights and marble flooring. The cool air conditioning was an additional plus as you and Jimin stood in the lobby. A large sign displayed all of the pertinent information about the exhibits available for view. Youâd always been a sucker for museums and you felt lighter just being there.
âArenât you happy you came?â
âVery,â you whispered, looking around in awe. âHey look!â You pointed to the exhibit directory, âGarland Sans has an exhibit showing.â
âHmm?â
âGarland Sans. Michael said heâs having an exhibit in New York in a few weeks and wants to go. Itâd be cool to see some of his work before then. Iâm not too familiar with his stuff,â you explained. Jimin nodded.
âYeah, sure. We can start with some selected works from the Chih Lo Lou Collection and work our way through?â he suggested. You nodded and followed him to the second floor, excitement thrumming in your veins.
Youâd spent the better part of three hours roaming all of the floors in the museum with Jimin and spending most of your time at the Xubaizhai exhibit, the afternoon rolling in with ease. You were lost in the stories of the Ming and Qing dynasties, amazed at how detailed the small villages were depicted using ink and color. It was like reading the stories of their lives. It also didnât hurt that Jimin was there to translate the calligraphy on some of the scrolls. He seemed to enjoy the Garland Sans exhibit less and you debated the motives behind each painting endlessly. Unsurprisingly, he was well-versed in the arts, more so than you and something he chalked up to hanging out with too many artsy folks, and you wondered what else you would learn about him.
âDonât museums make you just want to fall in love?â Jimin nudged you with his elbow as you headed back to the lobby. You laughed loudly.
âNot at all.â
âOh come on, Y/N. You canât tell me you didnât feel anything in your cold, dead heart as we walked around the museum. You looked so content and at peace,â he added.
âI was. That was the effect of the artwork, not you.â
âSo you donât think I belong in the Greek statue exhibit at the MET Museum?â He flexed his arms behind his head as he winked at me. You did your best to ignore the flutter in your belly as you disagreed with him. âItâs okay. Iâll win you over. Even if itâs only for a really good video. I havenât forgotten that Iâm your muse.â You shook your head at his usual attempt to flirt when his phone rang in his pocket.
âYes?â he answered, irritated. It sounded out of place from his usual casual tone. He excused himself and you sat on a bench in front of the museum to wait for him.
The view of the harbor was stunning and you welcomed the gentle breeze keeping you cool in the 84-degree heat. You took a short video of the boats drifting at the dock, a few of them further out bobbing along with the waves. Your own phone buzzing distracted you from the serene riverscape, Adeleâs name appearing on the screen with a picture attachment. You opened it and nearly dropped your phone.
Adele: Told you so. [16:57].
Below it, a photo of her and your brother. He was smiling into the camera as the two of them posed. Miloâs face had lost its chubbiness, his jaw more angular and his cheekbones more pronounced. His dimples were just as deep and matched the same pair Adele sported. That particular gene had skipped you; you got stuck with the freckles. His hair was cut short, different from the long floppy locks he used to wear in high school. How he had managed to take this photo without Adele ripping that gold hoop out of his nose was beyond you and you smiled seeing that your rebellious little brother was still there. Milo really had come home.
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â joon-ipersgirl, 2020
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Ode to an Angel-Chapter 1
Summary: You had been alone in this apocalyptic world since you got seperated from your old group and lost your brother. You were on your way to an old metal factory in the hopes of finding your former group when a herd of walkers dragged you in to the woods. You took refuge in a hut, where you met him. You have got a long road ahead and some reckoning to do.
A/N: Hey guys! the first chapter of my brand new Daryl series is finally here. I wrote for Sam Drake for a short period of time and took a looong hiatus. But it is finally time for reunion. I hope you will all enjoy it. Happy reading!!! xx seizethesam
Pearing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader
This chapterâs recommended song is âMy Least Favorite Life from âTrue Detectiveâ by Lera Lynn.Â
Youtube  Spotify
---------------
"So he took his wings, and fled;
Then the morn blushed rosy red.
I dried my tears, and armed my fears
With ten thousand shields and spears. "
-William Blake
The forest was not acting on your behalf. Every tree you dodged was slowing you down, which was the last thing you wanted. The herd of dead was gaining on you, limping their ways towards your direction. You assumed that there were at least thirty of them âand let's be honest, you could not take all of them.
You were exhausted, the only thing you wanted the most right now was laying on a comfortable bed, eating whatever snack you would wish to have. But no... Those days were over a long time ago. Now the only things you had were starvation, exhaustion, loneliness, and a bunch of walking dead that were hungry for your soft flesh.
You had been trying to push your happy remembrances to the back of your memory for a long time now that you started to fear if you had forgotten them. Your mom, dad, brotherâNo, you would never- could never forget him. He had been your rock since the world went to shit, he had been doing everything in his power to keep you safe.
Now you were alone in god knows where. You were making your way towards the old metal factory outside the city where your former group couldâve settled when the herd came out of nowhere and led you into the woods.
You glanced back at the herd and saw that you have outrun them enough to catch your breath for a second. You stopped and leaned your back against a tree, trying to stabilize your fast-paced breathing. The loud growling of the herd was filling your ears and the smell of the rotten flesh was starting to water your eyes, making your vision blurry. For split second you close your eyes, take a deep breath to motivate yourself to continue running.
Growling sounds of the herd were exploding among the trees and meeting with your ears in a raucous matter. I need to move, now... The earth was rough under your feet despite your shoes. You could not remember how long you had been on the road like this; an excruciatingly uncomfortable backpack on your back, a gun around your thigh, and a knife attached to your belt⊠The blisters forming on the soles of your feet told you that it had been a long time, real long time.Â
You began walking through the dark green trees. The Georgian sun was shining through the tree branches, falling on your skin to warm your flesh. Your legs were failing to carry the weight, and eyes were struggling to stay open due to the lack of energy. You didnât even remember the last time your belly was full let alone remembering eating something decent. For the past few weeks, your menu consisted of energy bars and crappy canned food.
Today on your lunch was half a can of beans and two sips of water. The sun was getting closer to its horizon as reddish sun rays reflected upon the shiny green tree leaves, the scenery imitated a thousand sunsets all at once. Your heart leaps up at the beauty of the moment. There still are good things. That was what you wanted to believe.Â
âThere still are good thingsâ you whispered to yourself, a faint smile appeared on your lips as you admired the view.Â
While drinking the beauty of the wild, reckless nature, you spotted a brownish-black silhouette from the corner of your eye. When you turned your head towards the figure, you could not help the soft chuckle. It was a cottage. Without thinking twice, you made your way towards the small wooden building which looked like a single room shelter built for hunting trips. You stopped your tracks at the front of the tiny porch. There could be walkers inside, or maybe people.
You needed to be smart, careful, and needed to make most of your weapons; A 9mm with two bullets in its clip, and a hunting knife. You still did not trust yourself with the gun, but you could handle your knife just enough, enough to keep you alive this far.Â
Slowly you approached to dusty stairs of the porch, carefully you stepped on the first stair. It did not squeak. You take two more steps for the other two stairs. When the last wooden step raised a surprisingly loud squeal, you heard a familiar snarl inside the old shed.Â
Automatically your hand reached for the handle of your knife, taking it out of its holster. You raised the knife in front of you with a defensive pose and slowly made your way towards the tiny window near the door. The window was failing to serve its purpose as it was covered with dust and dirt, you could not see through it. If there was an unfriendly person inside, he could see you wiping the window. You crossed looking through the window off the list.
You leaned your back against the wooden wall, held your breath, and just listened to what was inside, but you didnât hear anything other than the deadâs annoying snarl. After a few moments, deciding that there is only one biter inside, you reached for the doorknob.Â
To your surprise the door was not locked, so you gladly stepped inside. Across the door was a sofa slightly covered with dust, and to your left was a small counter with two small cabinets behind it. The tiny area on the left resembled an unfunctional kitchen, but still, it was something. There behind the counter, a walker was standing, mindlessly trying to move but hitting against the wall.
When you entered the cabin, it turned its attention to your direction and took a few shambling steps towards you. Your knees were shaking, heart pounding against your ribcage. Being face to face with a walker in a tiny space as this cabin sent shivers down your spine. Just like he had taught me, no time to be scared. With that thought, you wrapped your hand around the biter's neck and pushed it against the wall as a contained gruff escaped your mouth, carefully maintaining it at arm's length. You forced the knife with your other hand to its dirty, glassy grey eye, and towards its brain. The moment that its brain had greeted your knife, the body fell on the ground with a thud, allowing you to let out a comforting sigh.Â
Without wasting any time, you moved to the kitchenette hoping to find something to eat, but more importantly, water. Your half bottle water was not going to last any longer than a day, even though you were drinking no more than needed.Â
You started with the drawers beneath the counter. In the first drawer were rusty scissors and four pieces of nail. The second drawer- empty. The third times the charm- empty. The fourth drawer, well the fourth drawer was bliss. There were two cans of mushroom soup, a can of cooked rice, and a whole bottle of water that will help you another two days. You persisted with the cabinets, but your luck did not. You only found a short black worn-out rope, you did not know how to use it, yet you took it anyway.Â
You laid all your belongings on the counter deciding on an inventory check. All you had were five canned food including the new ones, two energy bars, a full bottle of water and your half-full bottle, a pack of tampons, rope, a flashlight, half a box of painkillers, one roll toilet paper, toothpaste and toothbrush, a detailed map of Georgia, a box of matches, a swiss knife, sterile compress, a hunting knife, a gun, and two bullets. If you did not return to the highway of anywhere near the city, you would not make it any more than three days in the woods. The city was dangerous but there was more chance of finding food and water.Â
You put your stuff back to your backpack without wasting any more time. You locked the door of the cabin and dragged the body of the walker to another corner. The stench was not unbearable but still uncomfortable. You did not have any other choice other than keeping it here. Otherwise, there was a chance that someone with ill intentions could spot the body and assume that someone was inside the cabin. You could not take that chance. After securing the door, you slowly turn to the dirty sofa, its designs are no longer recognizable because of the dirt.
You lightly took one of the cushions and turn it over to reveal the clearer side. It had brown and red plaid patterns. You could not help but remember the similar ones from your family's house. It was just like the sofa that you and your older brother used to play card games. Your heart sinks at the thought and you turn the other cushion as well.Â
When it was all done and well, you laid on the sofa letting out a deep sigh. Your feet hanged from the end of the sofa and instantaneously all the exhaustion of the past few days sat on your whole body like an ox as your eyes slowly gave in to sleep.Â
"No! One more!" thirteen-year-old you shouted at the older brother. He had just returned from college for the summer break, "You think I'm cheating?" he said disapprovingly.Â
"I know you're cheating," you said raising one brow at your brother. "You havenât lost a game since we started."Â
"That's 'cause I'm a pro. Don't be such a sore loser," he said mockingly. He got up from his seat and made his way towards his old room, while you were venting to your mother about the game. A few minutes later he exited the room with one hand hidden behind his back.Â
" Whatcha got there? " You asked. He revealed his hand and swung a little red piece of rope. "Here, take this," he said giving you the piece. "For your luck," You took it from his hand and realize that it was a bracelet with a four-leaf clover in the middle.Â
"Very funny," you said smiling at the older boy, "Help me with it."Â
He grasped the tiny piece of rope and gently tied it to your wrist. You lifted your head to face him, he was much taller than you now.Â
"So much for a cheater," you said with a grin.Â
Throughout childhood, you and your brother were as close as a brother and a sister could be. But you had never known what your brother thought, what was going on his mind, his dreams.Â
You abruptly opened your eyes to see a man towering you with his tall figure. He was wearing a sleeveless flannel shirt and dirty, ripped pants that seem a little big for his figure. His one foot was on the small coffee table and had a crossbow aimed at your face. Shit. His piercing stare was making the situation even more fearful for you. Your heart was pounding like a drum set in a rock concert when you raised your arms to level your head in a surrendering pose. He still did not speak but you spotted a change in his stance. He must've noticed that you were afraid as he hesitantly lowered his crossbow just an inch, his shoulders stiffened.Â
"Look, umâŠI-I don't want any trouble," you say when the man maintained the silence. His eyes were fixed on yours; it was almost like he was trying to read your thoughts. "You can take whateverâŠ" Silence. "I don't have much, butâŠ" You were slowly sitting up.Â
"Stay put!" he finally spoke. His voice sounded like more of a gruff, demanding but not a yell." Put your gun and knife on the table,â he said pointing at your gear.
"No-I'm j-" you refused to give your gears that have been keeping alive.Â
"Ain't gonna ask again," his voice was dangerously low. It was then you realized that he had a southern accent. Â
"Okay," you say with a voice no louder than a whisper, and reluctantly put the knife and the gun on the table. He took and tucked them in his belt after checking the clip. He completely lowered the crossbow and made his way towards the kitchenette with hurried steps. He quickly checked the cabinets before he moved towards the drawers, in which you had left three of your canned food. He stopped for a second, then continued. You could tell that he was filling his bag with your food.Â
"The hell ya doin' here?" he asked you, still busy with the bag.
"What?" You don't understand why he was curious all of a sudden.
"Ya alone in tha' woods just with two bullets." he said disbelievingly.
" I was on the main road when a herd dragged me here," you said not knowing if it is safe to share your plans with a total stranger. "I was waiting for the herd to spread out."Â
He let out a growl as a response, but you couldnât really figure out it meant.Â
"Do you know how I can go to the old metal factory,â You debated for a moment whether to ask him where the factory was. Your former group had always talked about moving somewhere outside the city where they could be away from the walkers and draw in more survivors.
"What's there?" he asked drawing his eyes from his bag to you.Â
"I-I don't know," you genuinely did not know what to expect from the factory, but you were willing to give it shot. This was the least you can do for your brother. He moved away from the counter when he was finally finished and stopped on his tracks to get a good look at you.Â
You hadnât seen yourself for a long time, but you could guess how bad you looked; greasy hair to the tips, hollow cheeks, dark under eyes, skin covered with dirt and bloodâŠÂ
"Ya ain't too far", he finally said and made his way to the little window. "About twenty miles south, down this way" he continued pointing his finger out the window. âYa got a map?â he asked.Â
You nodded as you slowly took out the map from your backpack, laying it on the table. He knelt down across you and began to examine the map. After a few seconds, he traced a route with his index finger.Â
âYa need to go over thaâ river, there should be a bridge,â he said. This man just had taken half your food and now he was helping you. You did not know why but you were not interested in questioning his kindliness.Â
At this point you didnât even know who to trust, this man could even lead you into a trap for that matter. But you knew that the factory would be somewhere near the area he was showing you.Â
âThank you,â you said turning your head to face him.Â
He got up from his knees as he let out a humming sound as a response.
    --------------
âYa gonna need more than just two bullets if ya gonna take thaâ route,â he said putting your gun and knife back on the table and left the cottage closing the door behind him.
 Chapter 2
Authorâs Note: The first chapter is here you guys! I must admit that it is a little longer than Iâve planned but please bear with it. I hope you all enjoyed reading it. It feels so great to finally share something with you. Feedback is always appreciated. Please send me your opinions about the story.Â
#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon imagine#the walking dead#reader insert#negan#rick grimes#the walking dead imagine#daryl dixon icons
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and then thereâs you | Au-gust Day 8: Superheroes/Superpowers AU
AU-gust masterlist
i took a brief hiatus but now im back!! this is possibly one of my favourite things ive written, ever
//
Steve was never expecting to get along with James. He didn't have the best start with Tony - even though he likes to believe that they've moved past that and have become good friends - and James' protective streak was well known. After all, the man broke records trying to fly back to New York fast enough and managed to show up just as the Hulk picked up Tony from the sky.
 He still remembers the way James landed around them with a thud, his faceplate snapping up and shoving all of them to the side so that he could get to Tony. He remembers the way Tony's face softened; the way James reached out with one metal encased hand to awkwardly rub his hair before settling on his shoulder.
 He remembers fiercely missing the time in his life when someone looked at him like that, like he was the reason the world continued turning.
 In retrospect, Steve honestly should've seen this whole thing coming, but he's still blindsided by the whole thing.
After the last of the Chitauri are felled down, Thor and James raging in the sky until they drop like flies, they regroup back at Stark Tower. It's almost too easy, over in a matter of hours, even though Steve feels like it's taken ages. They lock the Spectre away and clasp chains around Loki's body - and he can release a breath that he didn't know he was holding it.
 "Colonel Rhodes," he says, later, when they're all lounging in a beatdown shawarma joint, shamelessly taking advantage of an extremely grateful store-owner, âI just wanted to say thank you for all your help. Having two heavy hitters in the sky really helped us take down the stragglers. We couldn't have done it without you."
 James and Tony (from where he's resting on James' shoulder) both turn to him and give him identical looks, the kind that makes Steve want to duck his head and rub the back of his neck.
 "No need to thank me Cap," James says finally, "Just doing my civic duty." But he keeps looking at Steve, in a way that stirs feelings inside Steve that he thought had died when he went into the ice.
 Guess not.
 He nods once and is saved from answering by Tony grabbing the Colonel into another discussion. He takes another bite into his wrap, the food feeling wooden inside his mouth. Tony has one hand in the air, gesticulating wildly, but the other is wound around James, inter-twined with his own. It twists something inside Steve, and he tries to tell himself that it's just him missing his life before the ice. Before he was dropped into the twenty first century.
 He looks up to see Thor giving him an all too knowing look for a man who only met him a couple of hours ago. It makes him so uncomfortable that he stands abruptly, pulling both Tony and Rhodey out of their conversation.
 "I have to go," he says stiffly, "I have some work to attend to. I'll see you guys at the Helicarrier tomorrow at 0900 for a debrief," he nods at his team, "Colonel, it would good to meet you."
"Call me James," he says, nonplussed, "thatâs what everyone who isn't this fella calls me," he thumbs at Tony; who's face twists in mock outrage.
 Steve doesn't say anything, spinning on his heel and all but running out of the shawarma joint, lest he dwell too strongly on the fact that James called Tony fella.
 Despite their horrendous first meeting, Steve and James actually get on fairly well. He's in New York a lot, despite still being on active duty. Ostensibly, it's because the War Machine - now rebranded as Iron Patriot armour needs regular check-ups and after what Tony and James mysteriously refer to as the Hammer incident - Tony is the only one who fiddles with it.
 It makes sense, since Tony designed the damn thing, but Steve knows that James is a genius of his own right. Privately, he thinks that James is equipped to deal with any and all faults in the armour, but he makes it a point to come for Tony. Watching your bestfriend strap a nuke to his back and fly into space with no concrete desire to return tends to do that to someone. Hell, if Bucky had pulled something like that he wouldn't have left him out of his sight.
 Besides, now that Steve has been living with him and gotten to know the man behind the mask so to speak, he can see why Tony inspires that kind of loyalty. The way he badly misjudged Tony still digs at him, even though Tony has waved off his apologies multiple times and promises that he harbours no bad feelings.
 Steve isn't complaining though. He likes that James visits, even though he frowns everytime James complains about how hard it was to finagle time with his superiors. Clint calls it his Captain America face, says that he makes it every time he thinks there's a fight. Steve doesn't know if he has a specific face, but he does know that it doesn't sit right with him that James has to fight that much to come stateside.
 That was the whole point of the War, that they would fight so that future generations don't have to. There's a lot to be said for the twenty first century. His country's proclivity with inserting themselves into every war that side of the Atlantic isn't one of them.
 Still, James' regular check-ups mean that Steve has gotten a chance to get to know Tony's bestfriend - since he winds up spending a lot of time in the workshop these days; sketching while Tony putters around. It's like white noise - the sound of a wrench or a blowtorch, interspersed with Tony and JARVIS sniping with each other, and it reminds Steve of the barracks, of the Howlies huddled around a single fire and sniping around each other.
 (It reminds him that he's no longer alone)
 When James comes however, the entire workshop lights up, and Steve along with it. Despite his best efforts, the smidgen of interest he'd felt in the shawarma joint has buried itself inside him, planted seeds and grown around his heart. It doesn't help that James is one of the most easy-going people he's ever met, the kind of person one gravitates to.
 He reminds Steve deeply of Bucky, but then again - Steve was never overcome with the urge to bear Bucky down and kiss him until they both couldn't breathe.
 "Steve!" James cries out, as the workshop doors open with the faintest snick, "It's good to see you."
Steve looks up from his sketchbook - where he's been drawing James funnily enough - and gives him a warm smile, "James. Good to see you. How's the Iron Patriot?"
"Don't call it that," Tony wags his wrench at Steve, looking like he's contemplating the merits of lobbing it at him, "You do not call it that in my workshop. This is a sacred space."
 "She's handling like a dream," James says over Tony, but he still walks over and pulls Tony in for a small hug before making his way over to Steve. The first time this had happened, Steve was almost jealous, but he's since realised that it's just a part of James' schedule. The need to physically remind himself that Tony is okay.
 "There's been a couple of tough missions," he continues with a grimace, after he's done surreptitiously looking Tony over and found his way to the couch where Steve is currently propped up. "I've definitely got some fresh bullet dents. But nothing Tony can't fix, isn't that right Tony?" he calls out to where Tony has turned back to his holo-screens and gets a half-hearted gesture in response that Steve takes to mean that Tony has heard James.
 "Enough about me though, not in the least because I could be arrested for going into detail," James reaches out and places his hand over Steve's; and it takes everything in Steve to not react to the touch, "You getting through the list okay?"
 A month into his stay at the Tower, Steve was listlessly chewing a banana in the Common Room when James came out for some water and saw him. "They taste weird," he'd said, when James asked if the banana had done something to offend him, "I guess I was just hoping it was something that hadn't changed."
James had regarded him for a second, and then pulled out a napkin from thin air, "You should make a list. It's what I tell most of my rookies, when they're going back after a long tour. Make a list of everything you want to catch up and work through it on your own pace. At the very least, it gives you something to do."
 Ever since then, Steve keeps a small black book on his person, filling it with a never-ending list of things. The entire team pitches in, depending on what it is that Steve is about to discover about the twenty-first century. Steve likes it best when James carves out time for him though.
 "I'm adding more things than I'm crossing out," Steve admits, and James clucks sympathetically, "but it's good. I've not Star Wars on my list next? And Tony made me promise to wait for you to come back so that both of you could introduce it to me together."
 James whistles lowly, but his eyes light up, "Oh I am so happy that you waited for me for this. Never listen to Tony, he thinks the prequels deserve rights," he bends down to whisper at Steve loudly, "we don't recognise the prequels."
"Is that prequels slander I hear in my safe haven?" Tony pipes up, spinning around to face them. He's still got the wrench in his hand, "Don't make me revoke your access honeybear because I will, don't test me."
 James holds up his hands in mock surrender. "I'm going to go freshen up," he says with a clap, "but after I'm back, we can discuss Star Wars strategy."
 Steve watches him go, until he disappears around the corner. When he looks back at the workshop, he sees Tony looking at him with a look that's half speculative, half sympathetic.
 "You know that nothing can happen right?" he says apropos of nothing, but Steve knows exactly what he's talking about, "It's against the law. DADT. If his superiors find out, his career is over. 's why me and him ended in the first place."
  Steve found out about Tony and James' history only a month ago, and the sting has faded. Mostly because he knows it was a long time ago, and neither of them harbour those feelings anymore.
 "I know," Steve says carefully, because Tony is still James' bestfriend, "and I wouldn't ask him to risk that. Doesn't change how I feel though. And if I have to wait, or hide it, or even ignore it until he's ready to deal with it - I'm ready for all of it."
 Tony nods, like it's the answer he's expected, "You'll be good for him Steve. He deserves someone who'll wait." Unlike me, who didn't goes unsaid.
 "I don't expect anything from him Tony," Steve says, looking Tony right in the eye, "but I can't just pretend I don't feel the way I do. Especially not if there's the barest possibility that he feels the same."
 Steve isn't generally good with these sorts of things, recognising interest. Still, he doesn't think he's imagined the looks he's gotten from James the past couple of times he's been over, over misread the touching, the talking, the borderline flirting.
 "He does," Tony confirms, "but like I said - nothing can happen." He says in a careful tone, and it takes Steve a couple seconds to cotton onto what Tony is implying. It leaves a rush through him, reminding him of back-alley trysts, protected by the shadows.
 "Nothing can happen," Steve repeats, and Tony pointedly turns his back as Steve leaps up from the couch and follows James out. He thinks about calling ahead, or maybe messaging - but there's a decent chance that James already knows about this conversation, since Tony wouldn't have brought it up unless James had expressly allowed him too.
 Steve might not know much about the twenty first century, but bro-code well enough.
 He knocks on James' door, thrumming with energy, and his heart stutters when James opens it in a towel; one around his waist, catching the droplets of water falling down his chest, and another around his neck.
 "Steve?" he asks, and there's no mistaking the hopeful tone in his voice. It confirms Steve's suspicions, that Tony was talking to him on behalf of James.
 Steve doesn't reply, just pulls him for a kiss.
 Fin
#my writing#steverhodey#warshield#steve rogers/james rhodes#steve x rhodey#steve rogers x james rhodes#adi does AU-gust#AU-gust#Superheroes/Superpowers AU#post Avengers (2012)#past rhodeytony#pre slash#mutual pining#first kiss#dadt#secret relationship#pov steve rogers
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buttermilk.
anonymous said: I know youâre on hiatus but I love your ot7 x reader scenarios and want give you an idea of one where y/n is at the dorm alone while the boys are in the studio or whatever and y/n goes though he boys clothes since thereâs so many and has fun just seeing their different styles then the boys come home and see y/n in the clothes and itâs all fluffy and cute and funny too đđ
summary | while the boys are away, the babie will play.
pairing | OT7/Reader, poly!BTS
warnings | just really fucking soft, okay?
length | 1.3k
notes | hello, hello! i have returned for dis lil drabble cause i liked the idea sm. please lmk what you thought of it! hope yâall are doin well! schoolâs pretty hectic for me atm, but iâm happy to announce iâll be returning as a writer starting december. :â)
.
.
.
Itâs Sunday.
Sunlight filters in through the translucent curtain, dust particles swirling between empty spaces.
The silence is interrupted by the mellow beats of your lofi playlist, the ghost of warm bodies and sweet kisses lingering on your skin as you step into the shower.
Itâs a lazy morning, woken intermittently by soft lips and gentle whispers of good morning, baby against your temple, fingers trailing down your bare arm.
Time has no significance on Sundays. Just you and the comfort of your home. A rare kind of serenity thatâs usually lost to the chaos of something more. You like this, too.
You run a hand down the fabric, surveying the rows of clothing as you clutch the towel closer to your chest.
You could spend days in here, engrossed in the vast range of colours and styles. You know them well, enough to notice when new designs are added from their return. Adventure. A different story behind each thread. One that belongs uniquely to them.
âThis one, because I thought of you,â he murmurs. You can feel his arms around you, easily pulling you close, chest warm and solid.
You drop your towel and reach for the first one.
.
.
.
Simplicity and elegance. Clean button-ups and black slacks. Wool jackets and Givenchy sweaters.
But of them all, your favourites have to be his assortment of pink hoodies.
âJin.â Your breath tickles his collarbone, head resting against the broad expanse of his chest. Heâs wrapped around you, making you feel so small. âJin,â you say sleepily. He nuzzles your cheek. Whispers your name in a throaty exhale. Laces his fingers through yours and brushes a kiss over your knuckles.
âYou smell so good,â he groans, burying his face in your shoulder.
You blink, reaching up to touch the marks on your neck.
His hoodie falls below your knees, the faint scent of his cologne lingering on the material making your head spin pleasantly. The sleeves fall much farther, and you press them against your mouth, hiding your shy smile and concealing the flush of your cheeks.
.
.
.
You make lunch dancing in Namjoonâs jacket. Belting out notes horribly offkey into the wooden spoon between stirs of your pasta.
He likes streetwear. Denim. Youâve never seen someone pull off denim like he does.
âWarm,â you whisper sleepily. His large palms cup your thighs, stroking your calf slowly. Safe. He always makes you feel safe.
âCan we stay like this,â he says quietly, smile lopsided, âJust the two of us, forever?â
âSome days I donât want to share. Some days, I want you all to myself.â He doesnât need to say it; when itâs just you, he wears his heart on his sleeve. Itâs written between every subtle gesture, the shaky exhale, the wrinkle between his eyebrows, the weight of the resignation in the unspoken words.
You eat lunch wondering if heâs eaten, too.
.
.
.
Dramas are watched in Hoseokâs tees. The ones that are oversized for him, even more pronounced on you. Theyâre easily transformed into spring dresses, thin and light as you tie up the excess material so the shirt flares like a skirt.
Sometimes theyâre extravagant, expressive of his energetic personality and bold fashion sense. Experimental clash of street colours. Sometimes none.
Heâs silent when you appear, decked in his glow, and he genuinely thinks heâs dying because he definitely canât breathe and his dick is way too hard for such an innocent act.
Youâve always been beautiful, but fuck if you wearing his clothes isnât the one of the most arousing sight heâs ever had the honour of setting his eyes on.
âYou have no idea what you do to me,â he groans, pressing you against the wall, one hand up the fabric, thumbing your nipples, the other hitching your leg over him as he ruts against you frantically. Like a fucking teenager in heat. Heâs 25 for fuckâs sake!
Still, he canât help himself. The urge to claim you. Youâre not an object, something to be possessed, but shit ââYouâre mine.â
You have to pause the episode halfway to splash water on your face.
.
.
.
You work in one of Jiminâs collection of loose-fitting v neck sweaters.
Frustration mounts as the cycle of typing, deleting and restructuring paragraphs of your thesis wears you down quickly.
âDonât wanna be lonely, just wanna be yours,â he croons. Phantom strength braced against your stomach, tracing invisible love letters. Heâs distracting, even when heâs not here.
You take a sip of your cold tea and push your laptop away.
Youâll try again tomorrow.
.
.
.
Yoongiâs turtleneck. You look ridiculous, you know, but itâs so comfortable and thick.
Youâre lying on the ground of the living room, right under a sunbeam, the cool brush of the wood flooring muffled.
A nap sounds nice.
âNo. Donât move.â Voice hoarse, low. Stubborn. Heâs so stubborn.
âYoongi, Iâm working,â you say, exasperated. He peeks up at you from under his fringe, eyes slitted. Arms tightening.
âNo.â
He refuses to sleep elsewhere.
Miss you. You roll over.
.
.
.
Chicken.
Thatâs a lot of chicken, you muse as you examine the organized clutter of the kitchen.
Their love for chicken is unrivaled. âBy everything but you. Weâd give it up in a heartbeat if it meant youâd stay.â
âJapchae,â you say aloud, spinning on your heel. Jungkookâs plain black shirt flutters with your movement.
âSmells good.â Cheeky grin, doe eyes bright. A shiver ripples down your spine. Almost like heâs here.
But when you whirl around, itâs empty save for yourself.
.
.
.
You sleep in Taehyungâs button-downs. Today itâs Gucci.
[00:01] him: wait for me.
The bed feels too big. Pillow too soft. Mattress too hard. Blankets too suffocating.
âI love you. I love you, I love you, I love you.â Chanted with so much anguish it perplexes you. As if it physically pains him to experience what he does. Gaze burning, nails digging into soft flesh, the bed frame trembles.
You finger the hem of the shirt, mind wandering.
They all have expensive tastes, evident in the high-end brands adorning every label, scores of zeros streaking across every purchase. But they are so, so deserving, and every piece is made fitting of its price.
To them, it means more than just the financial successâit means stability. Means theyâve made it.
Taehyung no longer had to dream of Gucci.
To you, itâs pride. Watching them grow has been a privilege.
.
.
.
âBaby,â he half-moans, half-laughs as he swallows your giggle, kissing you deeply. Lifting you up and twirling you around. âThe day dragged on without you. I thought I was going to die.â
âYouâre so beautiful.â A confession, sighed dreamily against your skin, nose skimming the column of your neck.
âI used to hate sharing so much,â he rasps. âBut I canât help it with you. It drives me crazy when Iâm working and all I can think about is you. Your scent. Swallows me whole. Want you like this all the time.â
Itâs overwhelming, the sheer love they feel for you. Heart racing, a feverish haze settling over glassy eyes. Desire and affection thrumming through their veins, wound like a livewire.
âI wonât go through the ordeal of not having you again.â
âSo youâll be able to rest in my embrace.â
âWelcome home.â
#jungkook x reader#jimin x reader#taehyung x reader#yoongi x reader#hoseok x reader#namjoon x reader#jin x reader#ot7 x reader#networkbangtan#ggukienet#hyunglinenetwork#bts#bts fluff
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And There Are Storms We Cannot Weather (Ch. 2)
Pairing: Terranort x Anti-Aqua Rating: M Word Count: 3, 872
Summary: Itâs a simple plan: pull Xehanortâs heart out of Terraâs body. Until she learns the worst.
Read on AO3
A/N: What a way to break out of a hiatus: by going after the hardest WIP Iâve ever worked on. I have to thank @lyssala and @steadyknight, my beta readers, who assured me that this didnât need as much work as I thought. Iâm also just grateful for their excitement over this??? Thank you so much. ;-; ;-; ;-;
~*~*~*~*~
Are You Dead or Are You Sleeping?
Darkness is cool to the touch, a flame that numbs the skin with the breeziness of a damp, early morning. As she travels through the corridor, Aqua lets it coax her anticipation to sleep.
When a portal opens to a new world, she steps onto a precipice. The sudden exposure to sunlight and air is like withstanding a slap to the face. And yet... Feeling the sun again after all these years is the giddy reminder that sheâs powerful. Sheâs free, she can go wherever she pleases. But does it have to blind her? It takes longer than usual for her eyes to adjust.
The grass stalks are as tall as she is. Canopies litter the horizon, and jungles claim the mountains beyond, except for the highest peaks. Near her is a lumpy dirt trail, flattened by people spending years traveling on foot. Now, she only has to determine which direction he took.
Darkness works in a network of shadows, always present and always shifting, stretching to giant proportions before shrinking into the tiniest crook. Shadows mold together. They speak and leave echoes behind.Â
Aqua concentrates on tracing them. She starts with the way the wind sways the grass stalks, blending their shadows together, until they brace the footsteps of a stalking panther, hiding in a field of flowers. Pollinating from one flower, a bird takes flight. Now it soars, its grounded shadow passing that of a treeâs.
There he is, stepping over a root deep in a thicket. There he is, with his strange, beating heart, rumbling with the flutter of someone facing the edge of a cliff yet with the steady lull of meditation. He takes up too much space in the cavity behind his left breast, making it hard for her to sense Terra. Once sheâs done with him, though, that will cease to be an issue.
âI know where you are,â she whispers, pleased with the way he whips over his shoulder, expecting to see a face behind him when thereâs no one.Â
But voices prevent her from moving. Footsteps climb uphill - two men - and Aqua billows into the shrubbery, first smoke and then nothing, just the empty space between.
âI donât expect heâs much of a nice guy.â She recognizes this voice.
âEmperors rarely are. Unless theyâre naked.â This one chuckles.Â
Riku, Champion of Understanding The Darkness and of Having Enough Of His Own as he claimed on the black shores where he met Aqua, waits for a large, soft man to (casually) catch up. Riku is not tall - barely a couple of inches taller than Aqua - but he stands that way. Professional and confident. He stood that way when he fought against her, and stood the same when she won.
âIs there a story behind that?â Riku asks. Sheâs so close to him, just a leaf away from his shoulder, but he doesnât notice her eyes staring up at him. He grins with the subtleness of someone who doesnât like attention.Â
The man scratches his scalp under his small hat, then rubs his fingers onto his sweeping poncho, with sandals to match. He must be a farmer. On his leash is a llama dragging a cart.Â
âThe sun punished our most wicked emperor.â The farmer takes this restful opportunity to sip water out of a spouted, clay pot. His smile is big and inviting, his stature enormous and big-bellied. He gestures wildly as if telling a story to children. âSet his clothes on fire every time he wore them. Or at least,â he shrugs, âmade them feel that way. But the emperor wouldnât stand down. He ruled naked in his own palace for the rest of his life.â He smiles. âBut he always kept feathers in his hair. Man liked to have some class.â
âDonât they all.â Riku rolls his eyes. âIs your emperor the type that likes to keep his clothes on?â
âAnyone with half a sane mind would.â The farmer laughs, but he doesnât sound certain. If anything, heâs nervous and excited and naive.
âCanât wait to find out.â Riku doesnât sound convinced.Â
âYou know, I share a name with an emperor.â
âPacha?â
âThe one and only.â Pacha clicks with his tongue and that gets his llama going again. âBest emperor weâve ever had. Brought down the price of milk. Who wouldnât think Iâm blessed with charm and good luck?â
This finally brings a genuine smirk to Rikuâs face.
The men chat as they continue their way, disappearing downhill. It gives Aqua the opening to step out.Â
It has to be some sort of escort mission. If a Keybearer is here, then there are wild Heartless roaming around. Sheâll have to keep hers hidden. Either way, whatever Riku is doing is not her problem.
She hones in on her destination. Kicks off her feet and glides through the grove. Itâs easy to catch up to Xehanort - blend in with the shadows, pass through the trees, speed up, go even faster. Her heart wonât lead her astray. With every yard, she burns with the vigor that darkness had numbed away. She heaves. Sheâs found him, sheâll pin him down, sheâll take him back.Â
By the time she catches sight of his white hair, she snaps. She roars. Just seeing his face is a sharp reminder that no matter what happens, she has to see this through. Calling for her Keyblade, she attacks.Â
He barely dodges, landing on his knees. He flashes a toothy grin like heâs baring fangs.
âYouâre here,â he announces, and nearby birds scatter. âNever would I have considered myself so fascinating as to be worthy of your graceful presence.â
She scoffs and moves to strike. But he only laughs something hearty, with a boom. He floats backward into the thicket, waving his arm like heâs dismissively tossing a farewell.Â
Xehanort hovers in circles behind the trees as though to shake her off. Which is stupid, really, when she could feel where he is.
But thatâs what he wants, isnât it? When she takes a moment to locate him, it leaves her open to attack - from the Guardian.Â
It hovers close, blowing humid breath, muscles twitching like itâs in pain. It groans so deeply and so quietly she can only hear it as a whisper. She stabs it with her Keyblade and it lurches backward. She cartwheels away to create more distance, then stills to focus on Xehanortâs whereabouts.Â
The process takes too long. The Guardian attempts to grab her. She dives, throwing herself father away. It is relentless, hurling spurple, fiery blasts. Overwhelming her. Not letting her stay still. If sheâs ever going to focus, sheâll have to beat it into submission. Knocking her Keyblade into its face feels good.
But her focus has shifted.
Footsteps charge behind her. No time to react. Xehanort tackles her - strong arms around her waist - and throws her onto the ground with a grunt and a blow to the stomach.Â
His hair. Itâs brown. Sheâs face to face with plastic blue eyes and a smug, foreign grin.Â
She stops breathing. Before she realizes.
âGet off of me!â She knees him in the gut. He winces and grabs his side while she crawls out of his grip and starts to float away.
He growls and grabs her by the ankle, whiplashing her back onto the ground. The Guardian picks her up by the forearms, clasping them together so that she loses her grip on her Keyblade.Â
Aqua shrieks and her Heartless hear the call. The ground rumbles, the birds scatter farther as a tidal wave of Shadows slither to and fro in a fury. Help help help help.
The Guardian drops Aqua and disappears. She rubs her scalp to soothe the headache, only to find herself alone. Xehanort has gone, leaving nothing but his warmth on her skin. Straggling onto her feet, Aqua closes her eyes and follows his heart when she hears a courageous yell.
Riku catapults into the sky, a large Keyblade in hand, cutting through her Heartless right down the middle. The most vulnerable. He vanquishes one, its life force pulling and twisting and snapping Aqua in the shoulder before any identifying trace of it vanishes.Â
Xehanort left her to face Riku alone.
âYouâve tricked me,â she curses.Â
Her Heartless gather into a tornado, defending themselves. She summons energy from a pit deep inside her core - Darkness responds just as quickly as Light - and her heart throbs with the movement of water crackling at the touch of freeze. Sharing a tether with her, the Heartless absorb the same growth, stacking a barrier around their communion. It makes Rikuâs strikes as soft as silk. She commands, âTake care of him.âÂ
She whisks away, deeper into the thicket until it opens up to a valley, riddled with boulders and divided by creeks. Xehanort doesnât leave a scent but a trail of essence. His heart is beating quite rapidly now.Â
Aqua doesnât have much time until she loses her temporary upgrade, but soon she catches him in the distance, white hair back on center stage. Heâs running, but too slow. She glides faster, her Keyblade ready to slam him at full velocity.
Right before she could run him over, he turns and blocks her attack with his Keyblade. They ricochet, a thunder clap booming the instant they touch. She gracefully lands on her feet. He collapses and tumbles onto his back, groaning as his Keyblade dissipates as quickly as it came. He doesnât bother getting up.Â
Good. Heâs doing nothing but heaving, one hand on his shoulder as he gazes listlessly at the sky, not acknowledging her as she struts closer.
He chuckles. âBested by scorn. I didnât expect Iâd live to see the day.â
âGet up.âÂ
He only lifts himself onto his elbows, fine with settling there. His eyebrow cocks, inviting her to do what she wants. âWhat sort of fantasy are you plotting?â
She snarls. But she has to take it easy. She canât harm the body.
Aqua threatens his left breast with the tip of her Keyblade. Normally, this is a forbidden act. Normally.
âOne where Iâm drowning you,â she says, stalking the lines of his face, patiently anticipating the exact moment where he squirms.Â
âHow inconvenient.â
He may act unintimidated, what with the way he flicks his wrist as if her words bore him. But thereâs still one truth: he ran from her. His eyes snake down her arm to the metal inches away from his skin. She presses the blunt end of her Keyblade under his chin and tilts it back up to face her, the metal digging into his windpipe.
Years of lengthy debates about matters of the heart - how it works, whether itâs born in darkness or in light, its purpose with intense emotion - have agreed on one thing: to touch a heart with a Keyblade is unspoken of. Its effect is irreversible and numerous. Creating new personalities, breaking the mind, erasing the memories, banishing the sense of self, cloning the shadow. The heart will always fight back against an act so unnatural that no Master has even tried to experiment with it.
At least not with Light. Nothing about this Xehanort is natural.
Aqua doesnât want complications. Just a simple act of plucking his heart out of place and throwing it away to Where It Doesnât Matter. Where the panthers can eat it. Where Kingdom Hearts can reclaim it. It doesnât belong in Terraâs body, so it shouldnât be difficult. Put him to sleep so he doesnât fight back.
Sheâll preserve the body in the same ocean that birthed her anew. The water will restore Terra back to (almost) normal. Darkness has miraculous methods. It gave her the choice to leave, something Light has consistently failed her with. It will keep him safe until heâs ready to talk. Maybe then, they can take something back for themselves when heâs not so different from her anymore.
Sheâll have to be gentle.
âIâm taking your heart out,â she hisses. âItâs more than you deserve.â
Xehanortâs eyes carefully lock with hers as a new, knowing, self-satisfied, punchable smile inches its way to his ears.
âWhose heart?â
Her teeth grit against each other, nipping her lip. Heâll regret asking stupid questions. Biting her tongue, she focuses on whatâs most important.
The heart is a proud organ. It sings with its own voice, sheet music on display as a record of a personâs hopes for the future, their fears developed by the past. She expects one of them to be silent.Â
But it isnât.Â
Itâs a mess.Â
Itâs a mess, a cannibal, a wrestle of two where one drinks breath from the other. When one pushes away, the other pulls it in. One beats and the other follows rhythmically. Words are shared, dreams are rewritten. Muscle and sinew intertwine and blend. There is no point where Xehanort ends and Terra begins. They are two. They are one. And when they both notice sheâs reading them, together they shush her. To throw one away is to shred them apart. Sheâd have to say goodbye.Â
So all Aqua does is stare at him. All he enjoys is her hesitance.
A crackle of twigs and the rustling of leaves announce Rikuâs stumbling arrival, panting. When he sees them, Keybalde to heart, his eyes snap open.Â
âDonât do that!â
Riku uppercuts, knocking Aquaâs Keyblade away. He steps between them. If he thinks heâs doing the right thing, heâs stupid.
Aqua doesnât give him the benefit of explaining herself. She canât even speak - she gasps from his sudden appearance, and hammers away at him by instinct. Riku is quicker, his strikes are harder, a prodigy in every movement. They flurry through attacks, powering each swing with magic but neither of them back down.Â
Here her Heartless come, colliding onto the ground and set to wash Riku over. He glances at them - there is that perfect opening. She swings from a direction meant to mislead him. He takes the bait. Landing a blow across his fighting arm, she throws him into a boulder.Â
But Xehanort is gone. Again.Â
âYou made me lose him,â she mutters.
Xehanort has left this world entirely, and worse. Heâs nowhere to be found. But how is that possible? She should be able to tell where heâs going, where heâs landing. Maybe heâs too far for her ability.Â
âFind him,â she says to three of her Heartless: the hunter, the butcher, and the accused.Â
Behind her Riku groans, holding his head. Pacha scurries into view, pushing branches off his face, and helps Riku up.
âAre those monsters going to move?â Pacha quietly asks Riku about the horde near them, waiting for her instructions.
âI donât know. Iâm fine, donât fuss.â
âMonsters?â Aqua says, turning over her shoulder.
Riku is still shaking on his legs when she approaches, and Pacha holds his arms out in surrender. But she doesnât attack the farmer. Instead, she pins Rikuâs neck between the boulder behind him and her Keyblade, chipping minerals from the surface.
âIs that what you see when you look at me?â she calmly asks Riku. Because Pacha doesnât know any better. Because Riku doesnât understand what he fights. âDo you think thatâs fair, after everything Iâve been through?â
Riku gapes at her. He has normal eyes, the color of turquoise. He soon wipes that look off his face. âItâs not.â At least heâs respectful.Â
âPlease donât hurt him, miss,â Pacha pleads, leaning forward. Attempts to touch her shoulder with assuring intention but heâs lucky he doesnât make contact. âWe have a misunderstanding. He means no harm.â
Pacha is trying to cater to her point of view, his round brown eyes earnest and desperate. His voice is warm like tea, giant chin tense yet unassuming. She hates how terrified he is of her. Golden eyes of a monster.Â
âIâll spare him,â she whispers. âJust for you.âÂ
With that, she swings a dark blast that sends Riku flying off yards away, knocking him out. Pacha runs after, picking him up in his arms. He glances over his shoulder to see if she would chase them. Do not worry, Pacha, she wouldnât. She simply doesnât want to be bothered.Â
Her chosen three have not moved from their spot though, twiddling their claws around their antennas.Â
âWhat do you mean you canât find him?â she asks them.Â
Aqua tries again and connects with the expanse between the worlds, but he has disappeared from her radar.
She tries not to panic. She summons a portal, reaching for him among the shadowy tendrils in a network that surveilles everything within deep space. It licks many stars, many worlds, many lights, millions of them, earth and people and animals, in a void that stretches forever. All hearts beat just past the border where none can survive. She goes further, to pockets with no worlds and holes with no stars. The one heart that matters isnât here, and isnât anywhere, as if he stopped existing. Â
âWhat kind of magic is this?â Darkness should not be able to cloak him this well.Â
So he is nowhere in the Realm of Light or In Between. Thereâs one more place to check. She leaves the void, coming back to the desert where she found him the first time. Night blankets it now and blankets it empty.Â
Digging her claws into the sand, Aqua sinks into black, floating down to a seabed that houses a tipping clocktower, where night doesnât stop and her thoughts mute. Darkness watches over its own, the same creatures that hungered for her heart before now casually passing by. A Darkside acknowledges her presence with short interest, as though itâs not an intimidating giant but a child. She asks the Realm of Darkness if heâs here. Heâs not.Â
Aqua swims back up, breathing only when she reaches the desert.
Whatâs left to do now? Nothing, but wait for him to turn back on again. Heâll have to - whatever magic heâs using canât last forever.
In this moment of quiet, Aqua crashes into one revelation: sheâs tired. Sheâs never felt that way in the Realm of Darkness. The desire or need to sleep hasnât occurred to her in years. At first, she avoided it out of fear that she would miss a rare chance of escape. Itâs bizarre to measure how heavy her limbs have become, to feel her eyelids wither. Sheâs weak.
She could always go back to the Realm of Darkness and shake it off, but itâs not a bad weakness. As she walks, she takes note of how her thighs feel sore and like jelly all at once, fatigue settling beside the determination to keep functioning. The moment she rests will be bliss - the thought of it is alluring, as though sleep is a forbidden sweet. She wants a taste. This is what it feels like to be alive.Â
Ahead of her is that same cave where she left Terraâs armor. Itâs as good a place as any; sheâll be hard-pressed to belong somewhere else. The armor sits in the same spot, covered in dust.
âYouâre dirty,â she chastises.
Sitting across from it, she wiggles into the ridges of the rockface, which stab her around the spine, and brings her knees to her chest. Her claws brush against her skin as she hugs herself, frigid. The dirt beneath is rough and stiff on her muscles, but they agree with the rest, sighing something delicious with relief. The stars here are needle pricks in the sky, like theyâre farther away. They leave the desert dark, the wind howling and cold. Aqua shares the view with her Heartless, who slither into the cave and fill it up. Â
Next to her, the armor sits tall. Terra wasnât always tall, but the last few years together proved otherwise.Â
But Terra was always strong. Training with him was never about beating him through brute force. A foolâs errand, really. It was about outmaneuvering him, outsmarting, outpacing. The best training she could ask for to prepare her for the worst.
Terra won at wrestling, almost unanimously. One knee hooked behind hers, and huge arms wrapped around her back, and one hand pushing her pelvis hard against the ground, and his shoulder to her face, smelling of sweat and yeast and faded sandalwood from the shower early that morning. And heat. His heat on her.
Give it up, he would say.Â
Forfeit, heâd continue when she wouldnât stand down.
Really, Aqua? Youâre such a sore loser.Â
Maybe that was slightly true. Aqua would press a hand somewhere where his fussed shirt exposed skin - near his neck, or the small of his back - and summon ice, jolting him with the speed of a surprised cat. Still, heâd have the nerve to hold onto her despite the torture, to drag her where he landed, because he despised losing just as much. Because he liked to stay close. Because she liked it, too, and slowly he figured that out.
Thatâs cheating. Terraâs laugh shivered, as rigid as his voice.Â
What Aqua would give to hear that laugh now. She takes her tattered sleeve and wipes a layer of dust off the armorâs visor, gently so she wouldnât knock it over.Â
Terraâs (Xehanortâs) heart, their one and strongest bond, mesh together. Aqua mimics by intertwining her own fingers, red on red like bloody exposed tissue. One by one, she unlaces them, playing images of untangling threads of muscle in her mind over and over, ripping the knots that canât be undone. When the time comes, Aqua canât be sure sheâll have the strength to do the same to him.Â
She can do it. For his sake. She canât for his sake.Â
One of her Heartless - the youngest and oldest - paws at her lap. Heartless canât be understood like humans. Part of succumbing means to strip themselves of the experiences that mark them as an individual from all the rest. Reading their hearts usually turn up nothing, but Aqua may get a memory of a long-forgotten occupation. Flashes of what their friends sounded like. Sometimes a face. Never a name. Always a turbulent feeling.
The youngest and the oldest is a six year old, turned a thousand years ago. A blonde girl in a blue dress, looking up with curious eyes. She wants reassurance, alarmed by Aquaâs reminiscence. After all, this girl doesnât have strong images of her past life to hold onto, so the sudden rush of feelings must be painful in the only way nostalgia could deliver.Â
âItâs okay to be alone,â Aqua says, petting the Shadow. âItâs better that way. You get more resilient when you donât have to rely on anyone.â
When you donât have to feel disappointed. When you donât risk betrayal. While Heartless swarm together, they canât communicate. They donât understand much except for hunger, until they get distracted and they forget, numbing over and leading a simple life.
Itâs so much better than remembering everything, hoping someone would come for her as long as she stayed patient.Â
Aqua can spare some time as she leans her head back against the stone, knuckling her skull. The Heartless cradles into her arms.
Aqua has waited for twelve years. One more night doesnât compare.
A/N: This chapter makes references to Emperorâs New Groove (2000).
#terraqua#terraquanort#terranort#anti-aqua#dark aqua#dark terraqua#riku#pacha#kingdom hearts fanfiction#kh fanfic#there's a lot I'm excited about in this fic#and a lot i'm terrified#my fic
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The Red Mask
In 18th century Valencia, Spain, thrives the legend of the Red Mask, a character with stories of bravery and heroism that have enchanted Lovino Valenti since he was a young child. On a new business deal, his family moves from Naples and Lovino finds himself wishing for adventure and action away from his duties in this new Spanish city. He is given that chance when he joins a group of masked heroes that fall under the command of the famed Red Mask. He grows a close and fiery relationship with the masked man of his tales and dreams, and without knowing his identity, he lets himself be swayed by his seduction, trust and daringness, to passions surely forbidden when he doesnât even know his actual name or who he really is.
So, yes, I know I said that The Red Mask will be in hiatus, but after thinking about it, I decided that instead Iâm just going to post whatever amount is good for a chapter instead of filling a full draft page. Either way you guys were gonna be kept waiting, but I think this is the option that makes you guys wait less. I hope you enjoy!
                               Chapter 2
Lovino had awakened early, unusual for him, but in all honesty, he was excited to be in a new place, a new city, a new country and wanted to enjoy well from his first morning, adjusting and getting to know how the sun shone.
 Perhaps only two servants were working. He left his brother asleep in the bed and he hadnât heard of nonno yet.  The house was in a delightful silence, his steps adding to this melodious morning, letting himself breathe it all in, trying to control himself from skipping to the breakfast room. He was proud to admit he was happy.
 âBuenos dias!â It had broken the moment he was met with the other, already taking sitting in the table and enjoying from a drink. Lovino froze at the entrance, nervous, fretting, forgetting his words or how to even react.
 âHow do you feel?â Antonio smiled in utter calm.
 âWhat are you doing here?â Lovino found himself asking, his eyes suspicious, locking into the Spanish man as if it could give him some sort of truth.
 âUmâŠâ Antonio gazed about, wondering truly what the problem could be. He looked over himself, to his drink, even patted his hair to make sure he presented himself as he intended. ââŠhaving breakfast,â he shrugged.
 Lovino rolled his eyes, then remembering he was to live there and thus it was obvious he would want to have breakfast with them. âNever mind,â he simply uttered, taking seating, blessing that there was already bread and fruits on the table, filling a small presented plate. Lovino continued with his food like he was the only one there, not sparring a word and Antonio would just sit thereâŠstaring, taking occasional sips from his drinks, as if waiting for some kind of show.
 âWhat?â Lovino easily tired of it.
 Antonio shrugged, âwas kind of hoping you would give me your good morning as well.â
 âI donât feel like it.â
 âItâs simple courtesy.â
 âI donât feel like giving it to you right now,â he took a harsh bite of his bread, loud and messy as to keep it sole in the room.
 Antonio still kept his smile and continued his watch, switching from the other to the decorations on the walls, on the plates, on the table, letting that silence reign. âMaybe tomorrow youâll give me a good morning,â he hoped.
 Lovino shrugged, âletâs see if Iâm in the mood.â He was done, he could pretty much stand and leave by now, but he was used to always spending his mornings with his grandfather and brother, chatting and being granted his duties for the day. It didnât seem like he should go clean anything, or go to the marketplace, or help his brother with something he couldnât carryâŠbut he had to be given something. He refused to give another word to this stranger or to stand without having spent the morning with his family, so he joined him on the non-impressive staring, on the same details, colors, admiring, one pretending the other wasnât there. Graciously they heard other sounds, footsteps, some rushed, stumbling, surely a fall, the other prepared, sure and with clear direction. Lovino could easily tell who with a roll of his eyes.
 Feliciano was the first to reach, still in his night clothes, legs bare but as excited as if he was properly dressed for a party. âGood morning!â He shouted well for the entire house surely.
 âGood morning!â Antonio returned just in earnest, with a glance to Lovino surely hinting at how it should be done. Lovino scuffed and completely turned away.
 âItâs so nice to have someone new for breakfast. Is it all right? Do you like it? If anything I can go make you something!â Feliciano excited.
 âFeli, amore, calm down, no need, we now have cooks that can do just that,â and so Augusto introduced himself to the day, dressed poised and well to deal with business surely.
 âI would still like to make something from time to time,â the younger pouted.
 âAnd you will have that chance! But for now, let us relax and enjoy our fist morning here, properly.â He sat down and Feliciano followed along, starting instant conversation with all in the table. Antonio joined simply to have a chat, while Lovino remained mostly silent, glaring whenever Feliciano mentioned something too over the top.
 â-and now I am sure that this mansion is in fact, not haunted,â he declared with a deep smile, flowing his knife around as he spread butter on his bread.
 âI told you so,â Augusto commented with his own smile, enjoying his younger grandsonâs childness.
 âHonestly, Nonno just mentioned the couple and you suddenly made up this tale and you actually believed it,â Lovino rolled his eyes.
 Feliciano shrugged, âyou never know.â
 âI told you they died in Morocco.â
 âMaybe they were really attached to this place.â
 âIt is a gorgeous house, I can see why someone would want their spirit to continue on here,â Antonio seemed to defend Felicianoâs absurdity.
 âExactly!â
 âWell, last night gave you enough proof that not.â
 âI hope you actually go back to your own bed tonight.â
 âDonât you like sharing the bed with me?â Feliciano pouted.
 âItâs not that I mind, I just think we should enjoy from our chance to have our own space and privacy.â
 âThis is really your first time having a home like this?â Antonio wondered.
 Lovino wished that they didnât inform so openly to a stranger.
 âMy boys, yes.â
 âNonno belonged to a noble family of merchants in Rome, but after he met our Nonna, he eloped and ran away!â Feliciano eyes always glowed this way whenever he told the tale.
 âI confess, yes. She was Greek and from very poor standings. My family heavily disagreed with the match as they didnât think it would be fruitful for our business. But my love for her was stronger than whatever scorn my family held. So we ran away and settled in Naples where I started building my own trade. We also spent some years in Florence and Venice.â
 âAnd he had Mamma, then Mamma had us! And we were really happyâŠeven though we never got to meet our Nonna,â Feliciano saddened, Lovino giving in but only slightly, while Augusto seemed like he had been heavily pierced.
 âIfâŠI may askâŠwhat happened?â Antonio wanted to dare.
 âDied in childbirthâŠâ Augusto drank to try and swallow whatever despair, âI had to raise our daughter by myself.â
 âAndâŠwhere is your daughter?â
 The air became tense, frowning instantly when it had been so joyous.
 âShe was killed,â Lovino made the instant blow, wanting to get over it and let it pass before it lingered and made them think about it longer.
 âOhâŠthatâsâŠthatâsâŠawful, Iâm so sorry, I shouldnât have intruded-â
 âIf you are to live here, you were bound to find out at some point and Iâm sure you will learn more.â
 Antonio still held deep questions but preferred to leave it for a time they could be more comfortable with his presence, perhaps considering him a friend by then. âShe must have been a good soul. I am sure it is resting well in heaven with our lord.â
 âLovino and I think sheâs an angel up there,â Feliciano admitted such childish notion, making Lovino want to sink beneath the table. Antonio found it endearing, smiling at Lovino to show how sweet he thought it.
 âBut now,â Augusto dropped his cutlery on his plate to signify he was done, âI want my boys to get to know their surroundings and discover everything this city has to offer,â he smiled to them, expectant and excited. âI was hoping you could perhaps offer them some sort of tour, if you do not mind that is, Antonio.â
 âIâll be glad to!â He sounded truly delighted.
 Feliciano clapped, ready to jump that instant and head off.
 âNonno, I really think I should help you with-â
 âOh, Lovino, there is no need! Iâm sure your time will come, but for now, enjoy yourself, learn about your new city and then you can properly focus on business⊠all right?â His grandfather cradled his head sweetly, a gesture that hadnât changed since his childhood and he hoped shall forever remain, for it did well to calm, remind of love no matter the harsh circumstancesâŠeven his age and their partnership in business now.
 ââŠsĂŹ, Nonno.â
 âI leave you to enjoy the day,â he smiled in farewell and left them to their plans.
 Feliciano hurriedly went to change, while Lovino sighed, moving over to wait for Antonio and Feliciano by the main door. He preferred not to spend more silent alone time with the cleric.
  It was a weekday, yet the Italian boys found the city to be as plentiful as if a festival was occurring. It was hard to move themselves between when they walked down small gorgeous streets with sellers offering the most fantastic wares, but when they reached open squares, they could breathe and admire buildings formed with arm and unique craftsmanship. Antonio did well to tell countless of stories, explaining and bringing more knowing to the boysâ mind of the city. Feliciano was already enamored, while Lovino constantly craved for either something to eat or to head back home.
 âAnd he went aloneâŠto Thailand?!â Feliciano was incredulous.
 âNot completely aloneâŠhe did bring Miss Luna Odalis GutiĂ©rrez Martirio!â
 Lovino thought it would have been more exciting if Antonio had not dramatized and sung the name so well, but it had Feliciano clapping.
 âOh! So, they did runaway together! I hope theyâre happy over there!â
 âThereâs a rumor that the last message that was sent to the Ibarras spoke of a coming child.â
 Feliciano got even more excited and Lovino rolled his eyes, in its change noticing a stand with gorgeous artistry of stone, in wondrous colors, some shinning with precious jewels. He didnât care if he stood back alone as he gazed at a particular one, depicting a splendorous harbor. In his distraction, he was unaware of an approaching carriage, running widely and ignorant to the calls of guards. By the time Lovino heard and noticed, he was well on the way, cowered for a coming hit surely. He was pulled to an alluring scent, feeling a strong chest and a comfort he didnât think he could feel in such crowded streets. In this sudden fear, he lounged and wrapped his arm well around this body, practically cuddling into it as he breathed heavily, watching the carriage continue its rampage throughout the city unaware of what it had almost done.
 âAre you all right?â And Lovino met enchanting green eyes, with a smile and a frame that exhilarated his heart in a way he rather it wasnât in.
 âI-I..Iâm fine!â And he pushed him away, rubbing his suit off as if it could remove the gesture.
 âWeâll be done in a short while, I just want you to see this amazing view, so Iâll need you to stay close.â
 âFineâŠfine,â and Lovino followed, keeping his head on the ground now, on Antonio and Felicianoâs footsteps, hoping for no more distractions.
 The walk took a couple of more minutes, elevating high walls and roads until they stood at a good height, the city well-presented around them, close, gorgeous and with a wonderful warming sky to complement. Lovino awed as Feliciano, both coming to the edge, to the hold of the railing as if with it they could take the city into their hands.
 âOhâŠitâs spectacular, Antonio!â Feliciano worded the compliments surely Lovino thought as well.
 âIâm very glad you like it,â he smiled, taking Lovinoâs side in the leaning.
 âHave you lived here your whole life, Antonio?â It seemed like Feliciano was going to do most of the talking and questioning.
 âI only moved when I was sixteen, soâŠIâve lived about fourteen years here.â
 âWith you family?â
 âThe church is my family.â
 Lovino finally raised with a questioning gaze, half open mouthed that Antonio was eager to hear words from.
 âOh, thatâs very nice! Antonio, youâve told us many great things about the city and it was all wonderful, but, is there something I can ask about that I hope wonât be too much?â
 âGo ahead.â
 Lovino was terrified he would mention it.
 âI, and I know Lovino too, want to know if youâve ever seen the Red Mask!â At the famed hero, he came close and whispered.
 âThe Red Mask? âŠYou know about him?â Antonio tried to contain large amount of surprise.
 âOf course, we do! Weâve been hearing all the news ever since they started with a sword fighting contest in Salamanca! The Spanish sailors and merchants that visited Nonno would sit me and Lovino down and tell us the stories. We still love those tales dearly!â
 âYou do?â Antonio directed it with a smirk to Lovino.
 âUsed toâŠâ
 âDonât lie, Lovi. Just last night you told me one of them.â
 Lovino cringed and tried to sustain himself from shutting Feliciano with a hurting grasp of his ear.
 Antonio chuckled, a heavenly ring to get Lovino smoothed. âNo shame! I myself tell the stories to some of the kids in the church and I get as excited with them as if the first time I was seeing him.â Or as he wasnât him.
 âSo you have!â Feliciano raised and Lovino had to grip to contain his own.
 âWell, this is his city, everyone has taken a glimpse at all kinds of actions.â
 âLike which one?â They begged wanting a tale, and Antonio could see that Lovino held that same openness of his ear. Antonio smirked and began one of his most recent adventures.
 â-and thus the ladies were saved. The Red Mask prevented that cart from reaching and dealt with the culprits. I was waiting for the shipment actually and met with the Red Mask himself telling me what happened, along with one of his companions, Neblina, the Mist Mask.â And the two smiled, a story well told. Antonio felt successful.
 âDoes he really wear the Red Mask? All in red? Is it true that his eyes are as green as they say?â
 âHow about we wait?â
 âFor what?â Lovino questioned, showing disappointment for not being able to hear.
 âFor you yourselves to meet him.â
 Feliciano glowed and clapped at such a coming chance.
 âWill weâŠreally?â The was the most excitement Antonio could get out of Lovino that moment.
 âLike I said, this is his city, and from what Iâve heard, heâs working on a big rescue right now.â He grew serious, leaning more so to the views, looking, finding the dark palace nestled well, one Feliciano and Lovino could spot with his intense stare.
 âDo you know what about?â Feliciano asked.
 Lovino left his gaze on that palace, imagining it had something to do with it. To prove him so, Antonio pointed at the very place.
 âKeron Montaje.â
 Feliciano instantly gasped and whimpered, moving aside, shaking and tears quickly reaching his eyes. Lovino came to him, embraced, soothed and hummed words of comfort. Antonio hated that he could only but watch, only an extension of his hand ready to help in what the brothers needed.
 âAre you all right?â
 âI-Iâm fine, IâŠIâm fine.â Yet Felicianoâs eyes were still reddened, leaning into his brotherâs neck, wanting remain in that shield for now, not at all an assurance to Antonio.
 âSorry, we justâŠdonât like hearing that name,â Lovino spoke.
 âIâm very sorry I mentioned it, I didnât knowâŠâ
 âItâs all right, weâŠdonât like talking about it.â He hoped those words were enough of a warning to not ask any questions.
 âYouâŠyou know the Montaje?â
 âYesâŠin ways we would prefer not to.â Lovino held Feliciano tight, caressing on, continuing his hums. ââŠheâs hereâŠisnât he?â
 Antonio sighed, looking once again to the palace, still hauntingly there. âYesâŠIâm afraid.â Antonio held himself well from going on, Feliciano still in his state, not at all liking the glowing person he had recently met reduced to this.
 âLetâs head back now. We need to relax.â The brothers nodded and Antonio followed behind them, his body covering whatever glimpse to the evil place.
  Felicianoâs dinner that night was short, heading straight to bed afterwards, well, Lovinoâs.
 After that discovery, Lovino doubted whatever chance at getting Feliciano sleeping in his own room, but understood, and let it, caressing his hair, whispering words of love and mentioning as many times as he needed that he was there, as well as Nonno and even Antonio.
 Two weeks had passed since the event, since they moved and since they found out. Antonio did well to not question despite how highly he wanted to. He continued his work as their guest, offering help in the household, in Felicianoâs teachings, bible readings, even words of advice in the business.
 Three days and Lovino was back into papers, numbers, accords, being an apprentice to his grandfather and learning as much as he could of what would one day be his company. It was hard to concentrate when that single name repeated, raging, sometimes taking it out on papers with complains or numbers that drove him mad. There had to be something that could be done, he could get justice, revenge, finally act and save, but a look to the thrown letters, checks and bills on the ground reminded him that his mind shouldnât go as wild, shouldnât endanger, shouldnât worsen.
 âLovinoâŠthese stories are just that, stories to excite your mind and keep your hopeful. We all need this sort of escapade from our dull, but they should remain as that. Let them do their job to protect, they know well the consequences and have prepared themselves for them, but you should focus on being safe. Iâm sure itâs what the great Red Mask would want,â he heard his motherâs past voice in his head, he could almost feel her caress on his shoulders, taking his hair, kissing it, with another tale, another distraction, not these tragediesâŠnot these papers.
 He sighed, noticing the darkness the day had become, dropping everything and decreeing himself done. He was comfortable in his chair, leaning back, stretching, even giving himself space to breathe. He should probably get to bed thenâŠFeliciano was probably waiting for himâŠor he could surprise and could have gone to his own room. He stood, decided on snatching some frosted cookies from the kitchen while everyone was surely asleep and he thought he had the house pretty much for himself. He took four, successful, no one to spot him, munching happily, sucking his fingers and aweing at the taste, but even that wasnât enough to distract him from the guarded object.
 It was kept in one of the reading rooms, centered along with all the shelves filled with books of history, art, science, poetry and of course their adventure and fantasy stories. Lovino entered the room, hypnotized by the elegance of the sword that was kept well in place. It was beautiful, crafted by what Lovino used to think were merfolks, using the aquamarine of their seas and smoothened soft stones from their shores, with golds, greens and looking like it could glide well in his hands as he swung and thrusted.
 It belonged to his grandfatherâŠfrom his days as a soldier back when he was Lovinoâs own age. He had proved to be ferocious, powerful, earning a well named place in the ears of all Rome. Smiths had given him this as a gift for his time, shortly before he had retired and settled more on the business. He didnât like talking about those days much, while all Lovino wanted was to hear about them, hard to not imagine himself be that very proud soldier, earning those medals and recognitions that he doubted he would stop talking about to all.
 His arms were raised, his hands neared to the glass, to the key Augusto for some reason always left there, easily turning, opening and it was there for the air of the night, for Lovinoâs touch.
 It wasnât the first timeâŠthe handle was familiar to him, the weight nothing, the length Lovino knew well to guide without hitting a single object. He took the stance he had heard and seen many times, taken for himself as well. He imagined an enemy, going at him with precision, fierce, every swung surely death for whoever was unlucky to be there that instant. It was amazing how quiet he could while doing all this, Antonio wondered by the door, loving how the moonlight shined on him, making it seem like he was an angelic entity of dreams.
 âIncredibleâŠâ he found himself uttering, a break, a noticing. Lovino gasped, for a moment dropping the sword, luckily, he caught it with just as much grace, only letting the point fall at the carpet, grimacing and hoping it wouldnât do anything to leave a noticeable mark. And from that serene glow of beauty, came deadly glares, frozen yet, fearing that any other movement could expose him more.
 âWhat are you doing here?â Lovino said with just as much edge.
 Antonio only moved forward, ignorant to his question, instead gazing to his final stand and then the enchanting sword that fitted well not only on his hands, but also on his entre persona.
 âStraighten up!â Came a surprising militant voice, power enough to get Lovino to do as commanded, and to Antonio, it came out elegantly placed without a single breath lost.
 Perfect, he kept repeating to himself as he rounded, making sure that it repeated in every part of his bodyâŠand it well did.
 âForward!â
 And Lovino did so, sword well extended, posture immaculate, ready vengeance in his eyes to fight.
 âVery wellâŠâ Antonio faced him again, with cocky ease that Lovino didnât fail to notice. He was standing nonchalant, unafraid of the sword pointed well at him. Lovino had a rather hard temptation to continue the extend and win if a slight drop of blood. He hated that look on his face and wanted it gone with even show of violence if he had to.
 âNowâŠâ and from a hidden scabbard Lovino had never noticed until now, he raised his own sword, thin, small, rusted, not at all like the one of jewels and purest silver he himself held. Antonio was confident, spinning and letting it fly in the air before it faced him just as dangerously.
 ââŠwe fight,â he curtsied and welcomed.
 âAre you serious?â With that ugly thing? Yet he dared hit it against his silver, a powerful strike that got Lovino completely lost on his standing and yet Antonio continued, Lovino turning rather messy as he focused on defending, many times practically falling, his knee hitting the ground more times than he should, eyes side glancing to make sure the furniture was still intact.
 âAre you insane?â He shouted, in his try to halt finding his stance again, the hold of his sword with Antonioâs kept, doing well to not grant any more movements. Antonio was impressed at how Lovino could well force him in his place, while the otherâs worried expression was more on the surroundings, looking over to the halls for any that could come.
 âNonno can wake up!â He growled.
 âSo what?â
 âHe canât-he canâtâŠâ he couldnât tell him either.
 âHe canât know your using his priced possessed military days sword?â Antonio dared smirk.
 âOh god! Just stop!â And there he was with deadly slashes, Antonio now taking the defense, but how he loved this fury, this fire, knowing, powerful and- oh wait! That was almost his head gone.
 âYou are amazing!â
 âShut up!â He only reigned more, Antonioâs stances and back leans the sole thing keeping him from landing on the ground. It was becoming straining, he stood again, grinding down Lovinoâs sword with his own, the spark and force getting him to level back up so their swords could properly clash in battle, high, downward.
 Yes, Lovino was skillful, admirable, promising for so much moreâŠbut like many he had weaknesses, clear ones that showed that he was indeed still learning. Antonio took advantage of it, using that breath, an instant new force on his strength, a powerful slash that had the sword flying from Lovinoâs grasp. He himself felt to the ground to catch it, saving the room from the loud clang, heavily breathing, defeated, kneelingâŠyet with so much sun in his hazel eyes that Antonio though it a defeat unlike any he had seen.
 âMay I suggest breathing exercises to help keep them more controlled in battle, as well as trying new handle hand positions to make it easier at whatever change and outcome.â His smile was as an unchanging, with no trace of battle or exhaustion, while Lovino was sweating and finding it hard to even stand again.
 Antonio offered a hand to help him up, and Lovino took it without complain, balancing well, yet needing rest, his hold on the sword trembling, but he would not switch to anything when he looked to Antonio, bearing obvious questions andâŠimpression at how a mere cleric could best him in a sword fight. It was a wondered gaze that had Antonio fueling, smiling on and thinking himself surely an object of dreams for Lovino.
 âItâs getting pretty late,â he put his own sword back in its hidden scabbard, âhow about we both head to bed. We can make another match some other time.â He turned with a wave, his usual skip and directionâŠwhile Lovino was still debating with himself if this had all happened.
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keep calm and let HR handle it [VI/VI]
Rey managed to go a full year without ever directly interacting with her new CEO, but now it seems like heâs dropping by her office every single week.
(Because what else is a love-struck fool to do when he falls for his head of HR other than find reasons to visit her department?)
OR: five times Ben gets summoned down to HR, and one time Rey gets called into the CEOâs office, based on this prompt from @optimisticsprinklesâââ: âRey as the director of HR at [office] and Kylo/Ben starts finding reasons to be sent down to HRâ.
At long last, we get to see Ben's office. (Oh, and also these two get their shit together and get together.)
Chapter 5 Also available on AO3. And hey, maybe check out my Twitter and Ko-fi?
To: [email protected] From: [email protected] Subject: Company picnic
Hi Rey,
Iâve got several updates from the board on our annual picnic idea. Could you come by my office first thing tomorrow morning to discuss?
Best regards, Ben Solo, Chief Executive Officer, The Organa Foundation.
 To: [email protected] From: [email protected] Subject: Re: Company picnic
Hey Ben,
Sure, Iâll see you in the morning. Fingers crossed for good news!
Warm regards, Rey Niima, Head of Human Resources, The Organa Foundation.
 Exactly a week after Ben Soloâs birthday, he finds himself critically considering a bouquet on his desk. Itâd been an impulse purchase on his way to his meeting with Rey, which had also come about due to his impulsive decision to contact her after a week of radio silence on his end, which had, of course, been caused by his very, very impulsive mistake of calling her sweetheart.
Itâs a pretty thing, if you ask him, an explosion of white and yellow blooms that remind him of Rey and the light sheâs brought into his life. Heâd picked it out with exactly that sentiment in mind, but now that heâs supposed to give it to her in about five minutes, Ben suddenly regrets his questionable decision-making.
Flowers have meanings, donât they? What the hell had he been thinking, buying her a bouquet based on aesthetics? What if sunflowers mean something bad, something cruel? What if thatâs the first thing Rey notices when she walks into his office and it dooms them before theyâve even begun?
He canât bear the thought of going back to a life without her. Heâs spent all week realizing exactly how much he canât bear it, and now it might just happen anyway because heâs an idiot whoâs never bought anyone flowers before and didnât think before acting and fuck, what is he even going to say to her when he presents her with these possibly rude flowers?
To be safe, Ben pulls his phone out of his pocket and frantically keys in a Google search riddled with typos. But before he can dive into the results for sumflwr meabinh, a single knock rings across his office.
And when he turns around, there she is.
âYou kept Leiaâs chairs,â is the first thing Rey says to him in a week, giving him a bright smile as she settles into one of said chairs, a pair of emerald velvet tufted wingback chairs his mother had salvaged from the burning wreckage of her childhood home in Alderaan.
Ben had expected her to take them when she retired, had insisted that she do so even, but Leia had simply smiled at him with a faraway look in her eyes as she patted the tall back of one chair, reminiscing about the many days heâd spent curled up in these very chairs as a toddler, a tiny little thing floating in an emerald sea.
Heâd stopped protesting after that.
Rey blinks at him expectantly, and he realizes that thatâs it, thatâs all she has to say for now, sheâs not going to confront or lecture or push him about the fact that heâs avoided her for a whole week. It shouldnât surprise him, really, since thatâs one of his favorite things about her: how she always knows when to push him and when to give him space, when to prod and when to be patient.
âI, um, yeah, I didââ
âOh, whatâs this?â she coos with obvious delight as she spots the bouquet on his desk, reaching out to trace the sunflowerâs petals with a light touch.
Right.
This is it, then.
Showtime.
Now or never.
For Rey.
Ben takes a deep breath, and makes the unexpected choice to pick up the flowers and settle into the matching chair next to Reyâs rather than his own on the other end of his desk.
Rey watches him with careful yet smiling eyes, and he catches the little puff of laughter that escapes her when he awkwardly thrusts the bouquet into her hands. âTheyâre for you.â
âTheyâre beautiful, Ben,â she says, shifting the arrangement to cradle it in one arm. âSo is this a congratulations, our picnic idea has been greenlit gift orâŠ?â
The way she lets the question hang in the air, the way she smiles knowingly and expectantly at him, the way one finger is gently, reverently running along each carefully-chosen bloomâŠ
She knows. Of course she knows, his beautiful, perfect, bright Rey; of course she would have pieced it all together long before him, human disaster that he is.
And sheâs here. She knows, and sheâs here, and sheâs smiling, and sheâs waitingâ
Reyâs done more than enough of that for a lifetime, Ben knows. He wonât, canât keep her waiting for even one second longer.
âItâs⊠itâs a these reminded me of you gift, because theyâre so bright and sunny and Rey,â he falters on her name as he loses his train of thought, only to find renewed strength in the way she slips her free hand into his and encourages him to go on with a wordless nod. âRey, I know thatâs not always you, I donât need that to be you all the time, I want you to just be you around me, but⊠but even at your lowest point, even in your darkest moments⊠youâre still perfect to me. Youâre still the sun to me. You â fuck, this is so corny but you make me want to be corny, you make me feel like maybe Iâm capable of that, maybe I can just be the guy whoâs corny about this amazing woman who lights up his life, who makes him feel seen and heard and cared for for the first time in years. You make me feel⊠you make me feel like maybe I do deserve good things in my life, Rey. And you are, without a doubt, the best thing that could ever happen to me, that has ever happened to me.â
He has no idea what heâs just said, no way of knowing if he even makes sense anymore, but if the way Rey is smiling at him while her eyes shine in a telling way is anything to go byâ
âI know this is⊠this is so not HR-sanctioned,â Ben adds, attempting to end on a light note as if thatâll make up for the rest of his desperate, rambling, half-coherent plea. âBut I was hoping that maybeâŠâ
He trails off at the sight of Rey moving to place the bouquet on his desk, and holds his breath.
This is either about to go very, very well, or very, very wrong.
She could be getting ready to stand up, walk away, and leave this place â leave him â for good. OrâŠ
Or she could simply be freeing up her hands so that she can reach out for him instead, so that she can rest one hand on his beating heart and curl the other around his neck to pull his lips down to hers.
Ben doesnât actually realize sheâs gone with option B until their lips touch.
Itâs like a burst of static, but painless.
Itâs like everything heâs ever dreamed of, but better.
Itâs like coming home, but to a home youâd long ago given up hope on ever finding.
Itâs perfect, in other words, and he doesnât know why that surprises him given that Rey is involved. She kisses him soft and sweet, winds both arms around his neck to draw him as close as possible and smiles into their kiss until heâs smiling too.
And Ben canât even complain when she finally pulls away, because then sheâs whispering against his lipsâ
âHave lunch with me today?â
Like an idiot, he ruins the moment by incredulously blurting out the first thing that comes to his dazed mind. âHere?â
Rey just laughs and kisses him again, shakes her head with a smile as she cards a hand through his hair. âLetâs go somewhere, just the two of us.â
Itâs hard to think straight with her looking at him like⊠like he imagines he must be looking at her right now, like he hung the stars and the moon, like this could be the start of the rest of their lives. But somehow, mercifully, his brain gets it together just long enough to realize, with no small amount of hopeâ âLike a date?â
âExactly like a date,â Rey says, making all his dreams come true.
Ben is the one to kiss her this time, cradling her face in his hands like the precious gift it is while he tries to tell her with a kiss all the things he canât say just yet, all the things he knows heâll tell her soon enough anyway because this is Rey, Rey who makes him feel safe, Rey who makes him feel like a person again, Rey whoâs only known him for a few months but already knows him better than anyone else.
Suddenly overcome by a tidal wave of joy, Ben pulls back to give her a smile so wide it hurts. âIs HR okay with this?â he asks teasingly, feeling lighter than he has in a long, long time.
Rey laughs and rolls her eyes at him and tugs him back down into another kiss. âHR,â she murmurs against his lips, âis very, very okay with this.â
. . .
(The rest of HR, as it turns out, is maybe not so okay with their boss going missing for the entire morning, but they quickly get over that when they find out sheâs been hard at work practicing employee engagement with the CEO.)
. . .
Sunflowers, in case anyone was wondering, apparently mean adoration, loyalty, and longevity. I'd say Ben got it right.
We made it to the finish line, friends! After a whole year of trying to get this written, only to realize that it was never meant to be just a one-shot and then having to adapt it for a multi-chapter format, and then struggling to get back into the swing of things after a prolonged hiatus... I can't believe we made it. And really, sincerely, from the bottom of my heart: it's all thanks to you guys. You've been so sweet, and supportive, and encouraging, and kind beyond belief. Thank you all so much for every single lovely comment that kept me going. <3
To Beth, thank you for the prompt that started it all. This was an absolute joy to write, and I hope you've had as much fun reading it as I have writing it.
I'll be starting my holiday fic giveaway soon (the first fic goes up on the 3rd), so I'll see you guys around! Until then, thank you so much for reading and please feel free to like/reblog/comment on this fic one last time. It really does mean so much to me.
#reylo#rey x ben#rey/kylo ren#rey/ben solo#kylo ren/rey#star wars#rey#ben solo#kylo ren#my fics#fic: HR
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Unbelievable Customers
So it's a bit delayed... but here we go kiddos!
It may be a bit rough, so I apologize, but this is the first thing I've been able to complete since I started this accidental mini hiatus.
But most of these have happened to me at my old job to some degree. A couple are a bit exaggerated for effect but they're actually very minor exaggerations. People working in the food/customer service industry get treated horribly by customers and it's ridiculous to me. Being polite to someone is gonna get you much further than yelling at them and making unreasonable demands.
~~
Ignis
You were no stranger to weirdos and creeps coming into your restaurant to eat, it wasn't like there was a policy to ban them or anything. They usually never came more than once or twice. Except for one guy, he kept coming back every weekend and it was hard for you to let the younger female employees to deal with him. It was like he had a radar for when Ignis would come in to see you because he would conveniently show up after the Prince's Advisor had left.
But there was one guy that didn't seem to catch onto the fact that Ignis was dating you. Even with you always doting on him when you had a free moment. Not even the looks you two shared apparently clued him in on the existing relationship. He had taken to following you at a distance around the restaurant's dining area, asking what were pretty normal and innocent questions. You got annoyed but could brush it aside and keep your smile on your face. It was as you were gathering up a bussing tub full of dirty dishes that the guy threw out an...odd complement. He told you that he liked your shoes as you walked towards the back and all you could do was blink in confusion. In the back, you looked down at your shoes and ended up shrugging it off.
Ignis had heard and shot you an amused look when you passed him by minutes later. You rolled your eyes playfully and set about cleaning up the dining room. Everything went smoothly until you got to the table in the far corner and you found what looked to be a piece of trash left behind. After taking a closer look at it, you realized it was a folded up note so you unfolded it to read it. 'Dtf?' was written sloppily followed by a phone number. You stared at it, broom clutched in your other hand, trying to puzzle out what it meant when Ignis came up behind you. "What're you reading, love?" He asked, peering over your shoulder. You let him read the note and looked at him in confusion when he plucked the scrap out of your hands. "What rubbish, don't worry about this," he said without hesitation, leaving you so he could tear it up and throw it away. It wasn't until you were at home that he explained it and you squawked in outrage.
Prompto
Prompto had come in after the lunch rush was over with, so he leaned against the counter, flirting with you as you stocked the cups and wiped the front counters down, enjoying the smile that was lighting up your face. He had even stolen a kiss after making sure there were no customers in the restaurant. "What do you want do when you're off??" He asked excitedly, practically vibrating with his enthusiasm about getting to spend the afternoon together. You guys hadn't had much free time recently and he was planning to take full advantage of it, as long as you weren't too tired!
You had just opened your mouth to answer when you heard the phone ring in the office. You held up a finger, let go of your rag, and dashed off to the office in the back to answer it. He could hear you greeting the caller, thanking them for calling and asking what you could do for them. Then there was silence. The silence stretched on for a while longer before he could hear you speaking again, but it wasn't loud enough for him to catch anything. When you fell silent again, you came back up front, phone jammed in between your cheek and shoulder as you went back to cleaning. "Ma'am, ma'am - if you - ma'am - excuse - IF you'd let me speak, I could answer you." You finally cut her off loudly, scrubbing forcefully at a sticky spot on the counter before moving on to start wiping down the food trays. "As I said a few moments ago, we can remake the food for you or we can give you a refund. BUT as you said, you won't step foot back in here again, so WHAT is it you want me to do to fix this? Because you've tied my hands behind my back."
The tray you were wiping got set down, along with the rag, and you disappeared into the back again. You let out some "uh-huh"s and "mm-hm"s as you went, leading him to believe that you were trying to work the caller's temper down while trying to remember whatever it was that they were demanding. He drummed his fingers against the countertop as he waited and he beamed at you when you finally reappeared, sighing heavily. "Did you really ask them what they wanted you to do?!" He exploded joyfully, laughing. Your face flushed as you shrugged. "I didn't know what else to do. She was unwilling to cooperate!" You groaned, hiding your face behind your hands as you slumped over the counter. As he reached out to ruffle your hair, he knew you needed a way to blow off some steam after you were done for the day and went about plotting the best way to do so.
Noctis
Noctis didn't often venture into your work, even more so alone, because of his status as the Prince. But he had taken the chance to come by later in the evening, close to closing time so he could accompany you home. He sprawled out in the chairs in front of the counter for people waiting on to-go orders and pulled his phone out to occupy himself while you finished up. He didn't want to get in the way of you or your employees and had found, through experience, that that was one of the best locations to wait.
The door opened about 30 minutes before closing, as you were doing the nightly counts for the front part of the store. You quickly wrote down the number for the salads left and set your clipboard down, smiling brightly at the lady that had just come in. "What can I get for you?" You asked her as you walked down to the register, ready to take an order from her. "Do you have anything you can give me for free?" She asked a bit unkindly as she eyeballed the food containers sitting under the heat as your employee that was in charge of making the food started cleaning up their work station and putting unnecessary things up and the dishes in the back. When you opened your mouth to speak, she started speaking over you loudly and rudely, garnering Noctis's attention.
She gave you some sob story about her being in a new state with her niece in the car and that they were out of money, but they were hungry. She kept her gaze on the containers and started leaning over the counter to get into your personal space. You took a step back and cleared your throat before speaking, explaining the policy your restaurant was under from the owner to not give out any leftovers if there were some. It was as Noctis sat up that she reached out and snagged the front of your shirt to drag you closer to her. "You won't feed my niece?! You're a monster! You wouldn't make a good mother if you're this heartless!" She snarled at you. Noctis took that as his sign to intervene and forced her to leave. "She was in here earlier, I saw her leaving as I walked up, she had food. You did the right thing, babe. It's not like you could've given her food even if she wasn't lying, so don't feel bad." He assured you, reaching across the counter to take your hands in his.
Gladio
He had come into your place of work to grab a bite to eat while on his break. You had not only taken his order but insisted on making it so the line worker could take a quick breather since there wasn't a rush. You walked his food out to the booth he had settled in with a grin, telling him to enjoy before you were walking away with a wink. He stared after you until you disappeared from sight and then started eating the food he had ordered. Of course you had made it exactly how he liked it, he would've professed his love for you if he hadn't already been with you.
He was minding his own business as he finished up his sandwich until he could hear raised voices coming from the register. The phrase that had him snorting was the indignant demand of "let me speak to your manager!" He leaned out of the booth to watch, hoping he wouldn't have to toss the loser out.
You smiled brightly at him, gesturing to yourself. "I am the manager and as previously stated, unless you have the food and the receipt, we cannot do what you're requesting. If you'd like to order something now, I would gladly go make it for you so it's following our regulations!" His face practically turned purple with rage before he was storming out, leaving the supposedly messed up order on the counter. Only to come back, snatch it up, and stalk out muttering under his breath. You smiled at his retreating back and called out a bright "have a lovely day!". Gladio's loud laughter drew your attention as he doubled over, hands on his knees. "Kill 'em with kindness, huh?" He asked you when he straightened up. You just smirked slyly in response.
Nyx
Nyx knew that Sunday afternoons were the busiest time of the week for your restaurant, but he came in anyway. He waited patiently in line for a good twenty minutes before getting to the register, only to pout when he saw it was one of your employees taking the orders. As he ordered and paid, he inquired about you, and the bubbly cashier gestured to the windows into the back where you could be seen expertly handling the large lunch rush by yourself, running between stations and making sure the food in the two ovens came out without being burnt. You glanced up briefly, seeming to scout the line left before a flat, unimpressed look took over your face, leaving him wondering what was going on.
It surprised him to see you dash off to the back of the restaurant, past what could be seen, and come back seconds later with a scale. You set it up but kept working, not giving it a second glance, so he shrugged off his curiosity and went to take his seat to wait on his order. He stayed within sight of the larger window so he could watch you work, catching glimpses of your smiling face as you laughed at something one of your employees said through the window to you. You even caught his eye for a second and blew him a kiss, making him beam at you. He couldn't clearly see what you were doing and ended up focusing his attention on his food once he got it.
A commotion and an irate customer is what ended up grabbing his attention. Specifically, it was the slam of a bowl on the counter followed by "You've got that little bitch working back there and she made my food wrong! There wasn't enough and it was stone cold when I got it!" He watched your face take on a carefully crafted smile as you took off your gloves and tossed them in the trash, snagging something before coming around to the front. You set the scale down and motioned for the nervous employee to move away. "I assure you, sir, that you had exactly the right amount of pasta and sauce. I even waited to make it until the rest of your order, those baked items, were done and that your order got priority going out to keep it from getting cold. I've brought this scale up so I can weigh your food and show you just how much it weighs versus what we're supposed to portion out."
Perhaps it was because he knew you so well, but Nyx could see the determination to prove him wrong in the way you stood and the way you clenched your jaw as you smiled at him. You went on to explain exactly how many ounces of pasta was supposed to be in a bowl and how many ounces of sauce, taking the bowl from the counter and placing it on the scale that had been zeroed out based on an empty bowl's weight. What neither of you expected was for him to snatch the bowl back and throw the contents at you before he stormed out. Nyx felt his blood start to boil but was immediately stupefied as your employees rallied around you and let out a small cheer, congratulating you on having dealt with him. He was immediately concerned that this was a weekly occurence for you.
#ffxv headcanons#ffxv headcannons#ffxv reader insert#ignis scientia#iggy#ignis x reader#prompto argentum#prompto#prompto x reader#noctis lucis caelum#noctis#noctis x reader#gladiolus amicitia#gladio#gladio x reader#nyx ulric#nyx#nyx x reader
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Movie Night - T.H.
---> Roommate!/Bestfriend!Tom x reader
A/N: Hey guys, itâs been a while! This is my first attempt at writing again after my hiatus and itâs based on a request sent in by @obsidiandolans. I hope I did it justice! Also requests are still open, so send me your ideas and Iâll write you a little something. Much love as always xo
Summary: Move night is the best night, and with Tom and Haz as roommates, itâs always a success. Tonight, though, things are a little different. Lingering feelings are bound to shake things up for you and Tom, no matter how hard you try to ignore them.Â
Words: 3.5k
Whoever said three is a crowd has clearly never lived with Tom and Haz.
The three of you have been best friends for as long as you can remember, so when the time came to find somewhere to live, you didnât even have to ask if youâd be getting a place together. Â Two years later and your cosy little flat is the perfect home, nestled just outside of the vibrant city centre. Each piece of furniture tells a story; the battered old sofa the boys dragged back from a garage sale, the kitchen table stained with countless rings from Tomâs coffee cup, the stack of blankets that keep you warm during winter movie nights. You couldnât ask for a better place to come home to â or better people, at that.
There is one thing, though, that could be a little better. A lot better, you think, as you glance at Tom from your place at the kitchen table. Heâs sprawled out across the sofa watching TV, one arm behind his head and the other clutching a cushion to his chest. Even in his sweatpants with unbrushed hair, he looks like an angel.
Over the past year or so, your feelings for Tom have grown and changed into something that no longer resembles the normal feelings you should have for a friend. The sound of his voice in the morning makes your heartbeat race, one look in those warm brown eyes makes your breath catch in your throat and oh god, youâre in too deep. Heâs kind, sensitive, so perfect it almost hurts. Every day you fall a little bit harder, and being so close to him all the time complicates the situation even more.
Of course, youâre a long way from straight up admitting your feelings. How would you even go about that? It would change the way you live irrevocably, and not just for you and Tom â it would affect Haz too. Thereâs just so much to consider, and you know youâre not ready to take that kind of risk.
You probably never will be.
And so, the path of least resistance is the one you choose: doing nothing. Life carries on as normal, with both Tom and Haz none the wiser as far as youâre aware. Besides, youâve got more important things to worry about, like the work you should definitely be focusing on right now rather than staring at your best friend.
âAw, damnit!â Haz curses, scowling into the fridge.
You glance over and raise an eyebrow at him. âWhat was that for?â
He sighs, waving an empty milk carton at you. âNo milk. Because someone ââ he says, turning to direct his ire at the boy laid out on the sofa, âForgot it was their turn to buy some!â
Ah, the never-ending milk debate. Tom looks up with a sheepish grin on his face, hand running through his unruly curls. âSorry, mate, totally forgot. Iâve had my head buried in this new script all day and it completely slipped my mindâ.
âDonât worry about it. Iâll just have to suffer through milkless tea till tomorrowâ Haz replies theatrically, throwing the back of his hand against his forehead.
You close the lid of your laptop and stand up from the table, glad for the distraction from work. âI was gonna run out and grab some popcorn for movie night anyway, I can get the milk at the same timeâ
Movie nights are the best nights, in your opinion. Cuddled up in blankets, a bowl of fresh popcorn between the three of you, and a good movie? Itâs your idea of perfection. Recently, though, youâve started relegating yourself to the armchair rather than getting up close and personal with a certain someone. The three of you have never shied away from snuggling up together, but with your feelings being what they are, itâs no longer doable for you. Being pulled into Tomâs warm chest, his arm slung over your shoulders with your legs crossed over his⊠yeah, thatâs not a good idea. Why torture yourself any more than you have to, right?
âGreat idea!â Tom says, quickly pushing himself to his feet. âLemme grab my coat and Iâll join youâ
âOh, donât worry about itâ you cut in hurriedly, âYouâve got work to be doingâ.
Alone time with Tom is, unsurprisingly, something else youâre keen to avoid. The city is oddly romantic when itâs late, and even a short moonlit stroll to the shops would be a little much for you. How have you let it get this bad, you wonder. Itâs hardly fair to Tom, pushing him away like this, but you tell yourself itâs for the best.
âNah, I could do with a break and some fresh airâ he persists, smiling warmly at you. One look from him could make you do anything, but luckily your sense of self-preservation takes over.
âSeriously, Tom, Iâll be quicker on my ownâ you tell him, fixing him with a determined gaze. His eyes search your face for a moment, intense and melting as they briefly lock onto yours. You swallow hard.
âHmm, suit yourselfâ he says finally, eyes dropping to the ground as he wanders over to the kitchen.
âAnd make sure to grab a couple of pints at least, Iâll betcha anything Mr. âI totally forgotâ will forget againâ Haz adds as you slip on your coat, eliciting a groan of protest from Tom. You nod over your shoulder as you head out of the apartment, the door closing with a click behind you.
Tom watches the door for a moment, rubbing at his cheek with thumb. Heâs interrupted by a sharp cough, whipping round to scowl at the offender.
âYouâre seriously testing my patienceâ Haz says, nudging Tom in the ribs as he walks past.
âWhat dâya mean?â
âIâve told you a million times, just tell her you love her and get it over with â for my sake, if not yoursâ.
Thereâs a moment of silence whilst Tom figures out how to respond. Harrison catches his hesitation and rolls his eyes, gesturing for his friend to join him on the sofa. âDonât give me all that âitâs not so simpleâ crap, cause it really isâ. Â
Tom sighs and flops down into the cushions, pulling his knees up to his chest. âBut weâve known her for years, Haz, sheâs our best mate. I canât fuck that up by making things⊠weirdâ
âWeird? Please, we passed weird a long time ago when you started getting flustered if she so much as smiles at youâ Haz replies, grimacing. âYouâre being so obvious itâs insaneâ.
âI just donât know what to do, you know? Sheâs been so distant lately, tooâ Tom frowns at Harrison, who smiles wryly at his friendâs confusion.
âDistant? You think?â he chuckles.
âI donât⊠sheâs just⊠wait, what are you saying?â
âIâm not saying anything, mate. All I know is that being in the middle of all of this is getting old.â Haz sighs, throwing his arms behind his head. âAnd itâs about time you did something about itâ.
Twenty minutes later you arrive back at the flat, armed with three pints of milk and enough popcorn to feed a village. âI went for sweet and salted, since you guys seem to change your preference every timeâ you call as you kick your shoes off, before wandering into the kitchen. âAnd three pints of milk just to be on the safe sideâ.
Back in his usual position on the sofa, Tom smiles warmly up at you. âI owe you one!â he says, swinging his feet to the ground and walking over to join you.
âDonât worry about it. Whereâs Haz? Movie night is a-go!â you reply, opening a bag of popcorn with a dramatic flourish. Tom laughs, reaching across you to grab a bowl from the cupboard
âIn bed. Heâs got an early morning tomorrow, wanted to catch up on some sleepâ.
Haz isnât joining you for movie night? Oh, this isnât good. Two hours or so alone in the dark with Tom is the last thing you need right now.
âWhat? But movie night is a tradition, he canât just miss one!â you protest, folding your arms across your chest. âMaybe we should postpone till tomorrow thenâ.
Tom takes the popcorn from you and empties it into the bowl. âHeâs cool with us going ahead with it, donât worryâ he says, before nodding to the sofa. âCome on, letâs get startedâ.
You follow hesitantly, aware that further protests will only make you seem more suspicious. The next problem that crosses your mind is a matter of seating. With Haz gone, you no longer have your usual âyou guys take up all the space!â excuse for not joining Tom on the sofa. You watch as he picks a cosy blanket from the top of the stack, throwing it around his shoulders like a cape. âIf youâd like to take a seat, madame,â he grins, âThe presentation will begin shortly!â
With that, he throws himself back into the sofa cushions, patting the empty space beside him. There really is no way you can refuse, and so you obligingly take your place. âAnd what presentation will that be exactly?â you ask, trying to push the heightened awareness of his closeness from your mind. By way of an answer, he picks up the remote to switch the TV on. The screen flickers to life, revealing a very familiar title screen.
âInfinity War? Come on, you mustâve seen this a hundred times!â you exclaim. Though heâs not the type to get a kick from watching himself onscreen, Tom has always had a soft spot for Infinity War. He had so much fun making it, and youâre certain that watching it as often as the three of you have done is simply an excuse for him to re-live the great memories he has of being on set.
Tom grins, putting his feet up on the coffee table. âWhat can I say? Itâs a favourite. And donât pretend you donât love it cause I know you doâ he teases, before pulling the blanket from his shoulders and laying it gently over the both of you. âReady?â
No, you think.
âGo for it!â you say, and the familiar Marvel logo fills the screen. Laying the remote down on the coffee table, Tom settles back into the cushions and shuffles in until his side is pressed against yours. He rests his arm casually across your shoulders, letting out a gentle sigh of contentment.
This isnât going to be easy.
At least someone can relax, you think. As the film unfolds, though, a part of you has to admit that youâve missed this. Complicated feelings aside, youâve always valued the level of closeness you have with the boys. Platonic intimacy is greatly underrated, and letâs be honest, everyone needs a little human touch every now and again. The fact that it happens to be coming from the boy youâre in love is just an added bonus â heâs just so warm, and familiar, and comfortingâŠ
Yeah, definitely not easy.
Still, if you focus on the film and let your mind quieten down for a while, itâs almost like things are back to normal. Just two friends, sharing popcorn and blanket, enjoying a great movie together. Simple. You can do this.
And for most of the movie, you manage perfectly fine â and then the final sequence begins. Why do you always forget how devastating this movie is? It hits you right in the chest, just like it did the very first time you watched it. As the faces you know and love turn to dust onscreen, that little lump starts to form in your throat and your eyes begins to fill with hot tears. Itâs no use controlling your emotions, youâve tried and failed a hundred times before.
When the worst part begins â you know the part â those tears start to slip down your cheeks.
âI donât feel so goodâ
Of course this part makes you cry. You know itâs not real, and you know Tomâs safe right beside you, but god does it hurt seeing that lovely face crumble into nothing in front of you. Pulling the blanket up to your chin, you turn your face away from him in a bid to conceal your emotions.
Itâs a little late for that, though.
âOh, loveâ he murmurs, his voice soft as he notices your tears. The arm around your shoulders pulls you into his chest, a hand stroking your hair. âItâs okayâ.
Against your better judgement you let yourself relax into him, cheek pressed into the soft knit of his jumper. His familiar scent fills your senses, equal parts comforting and exhilarating. The gentle rise and fall of his chest is broken by a low chuckle, âGets you every time, doesnât itâ. Heâs the perfect antidote to the emotional wringer that Infinity War is putting you through, always so sweet and kind and caring andâŠ
This is exactly what you should not be doing, you realise. You carefully extricate yourself from his embrace, letting the blanket slip from off your shoulders as you sit up. âSorry about thatâ you mumble, focusing your gaze back on the screen. Out of the corner of your eye you can see him looking at you, brow furrowed slightly.
âNothing for you to be sorry forâ Tom replies, shuffling round to face you. The corners of his lips are curled into a sympathetic smile, as he reaches out a hand to gently brush a stray tear from your cheek. His touch is so light and fleeting you should barely be able to feel it, and yet itâs as if his fingertips leave burning imprints on your skin. âIf anything, Iâm flattered. Means I mustâve been doing something right, hmm?â
You nod, managing what you hope is a convincing smile as you settle back into the sofa and try to concentrate on the filmâs closing moments. Â Tom, however, still has his gaze firmly fixed on you. âNow youâve got me all emotional, darling. I hate seeing you cry, especially when Iâm the one who caused itâ he sighs, running a hand through his hair.
âIâm fine, Tom, honestly. Think Iâm just tiredâ you tell him, bunching up the edge of the blanket in your hand. âProbably best I get an early night, actuallyâ.
Quit before you give too much away, you think, pushing the blanket off your lap.
âOh. Well okay, Iâll, umâŠIâllâŠâ Tom begins, his voice trailing off as he watches you.
You flash him a smile, and begin to stand up. âEnjoy the rest of the film, Iâll see you in the morningâ. Â
âActually, darling, hang on a minuteâ.
Thereâs a change to his voice, a hint of something deeper colouring his words as he sits up straight. âCan you just sit back down for a second? Please?â
He looks up at you, his expression unreadable as he gestures to the space beside him. No matter how much you want to remove yourself from the situation, you canât say no, but as a compromise to yourself you choose to sit in the armchair instead. A bit of distance is a wise idea, especially since you canât take your mind off how good it felt to be close to him again.
His shoulders drop slightly as he watches you sit, his gaze falling to the floor for a second before returning to meet yours with renewed determination. âWhy do you keeping doing that?â he asks, his forehead creased as his eyes burn into yours.
âDoing what?â
âRunning away from me. Like you want to be as far away from me as possibleâ.
His words are thick with real emotion, a desperate, pleading rawness that burrows its way into your chest and clutches at your heart. You donât know what to say, so taken aback by the sudden shift in atmosphere. Itâs impossible to look at him in the moment, your eyes cast downward as you pick at the embroidery on a cushion.
He knows you well enough to realise youâre not going to reply. A humourless laugh escapes his lips, a hand coming up to rub his brow as he shakes his head. âAnd it sucks, you know? You being so far, right when I want you even closerâ.
Your breath catches in your throat.
Whatâs happening?
Across the room, Tom stiffens in his seat. He knows that with one simple statement, heâs crossed a line that thereâs no going back from â so he pushes forwards. âIâm just gonna say this now, cause I donât know that there will ever be a right time, so⊠I canât be âjust friendsâ with you anymore, Y/N. I canâtâ.
He lets the words hand in the air for a second, pausing to gage your reaction.
You can barely allow yourself to breathe, lest the tiniest sound or movement fracture the moment you almost canât believe is happening. Slowly, you lift your gaze to meet Tomâs. His eyes are dark and intense, cheeks flushing a heated pink as he holds your gaze. Still you say nothing, but the steady eye contact is enough to steel him on.
âI think Iâve known it for a while. Haz certainly knows it, and I donât know, maybe you know it as well. But itâs true. I justâŠâ he continues, swallowing hard. All of his bravado, his easy charisma, his defenses â it all drops away. Thereâs a vulnerability about him as he sits across from you, his eyes wide and his lips parted.
âI love youâ.
And then, almost as if heâs admitting it to himself for the first time, âIâm in love with youâ.
There it is.
Whatever happens, heâs said it. No going back now, no matter how much he fears heâs ruined things forever. âSo now you know. And Iâm not⊠Iâm not expecting to you say anything, cause I know itâs a lot to just drop on youâ he says, pushing himself to his feet. âSo Iâm gonna head to bed and give you some space, and when itâs right for you maybe we can ââ
âTom, waitâ.
You push yourself out of the armchair, fighting the fog of emotion and adrenaline to get your words out straight. âNow is right for meâ.
Tom pauses, choosing neither to sit nor move any closer. Heâs frozen, held in limbo, and you know that your next words are the key to setting him free. Itâs a lot of responsibility, but luckily this is a moment youâve been rehearsing over and over in your mind. You know exactly what to say.
âEverything youâve said, about not being âjust friendsâ anymore? I get it. I get it cause Iâve been thinking the same thingâ
You let your gaze roam over his face, his perfect face, and you recognise a glimmer of hope in those beautiful eyes. âTom, thatâs the reason why Iâve been running away all the time. Every time we got close it was too much for me, too hard to act normal. It was just easier to stay away rather than risk giving myself upâ.
Even though heâs already made it clear how he feels, the nerves still claw at your throat as you let slip the most crucial words. âI love you too, Tomâ.
In seconds, heâs across the room and right in front of you. That glimmer of hope has burst into pure light, his eyes full of joy and love as he gazes down at you. His arms wrap around your back, pulling you into his chest for the second time tonight â now, though, you donât want to pull away. This feels right, even more so when he tilts his head and closes the gap between your lips. Itâs a gentle brush at first, the two of you savouring the moment before he catches your bottom lip between his and deepens the kiss. Your hands tangle in his hair, and one of his comes up to cup your jaw and pull you even closer.
You can feel him smile into the kiss, before he pulls back ever so slightly to rest his forehead against yours. Neither of you say anything, basking in the momentâs glow as you gaze into each otherâs eyes.
A clatter from the kitchen interrupts your post-kiss haze, and you turn to see Haz frozen with a glass in his hands. âDonât mind meâ he says, slowly backing away until heâs just the other side of the door frame. âAs you wereâ.
Tom lets out a low chuckle, his hands gripping your hips as he nods at his friend. âGoodnight, mateâ.
Haz disappears into his room, raising his glass to you in a mock salute before closing the door.
âHow do you think he feels about being a third wheel?â you ask Tom, resting your hands against the firmness of his chest.
âAh, I think heâs okay with it. Doesnât really have a choice, does he?â he replies, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. âNow, where were we?â
#file under my stuff#tom holland#tom holland imagines#boyfriend!tom holland#tom holland fanfic#tom holland oneshot#tom holland fic#tom holland x reader#roommate!tom#back on my bullshit#my fluffy tropey bullshit
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