#no i am not performing but man i might as well hop on stage

[whirlybirbs]

spending my weekend engaged in the most homoerotic sport imaginable: bodybuilding

[therealcocoshady]

Are you still taking requests if not by past this

Lilly (Marshall’s daughter) has a recital that she invited him to but for obvious reasons (him being a celebrity) he isn’t able to go so Lilly is upset and Marshall is kinda bummed and he try’s to make it up to her

« Just Daddy » - Eminem One Shot

Author’s note : THANK YOU for your request ! I am so in love with the Lily/Marshall duo ! If ay of you guys have any requests about this… PLEASE keep them coming, because they make my heart full ! (Also, it is the perfect opportunity for some cute and comforting fluff !!!) 

MARSHALL’S POV 

Marshall usually needed a very good reason to interrupt a studio session, especially if it was one with Dre. In that case, he had interrupted a studio session with Dre, Fifty and Snoop, which could only mean one thing : there was an emergency. In that case, the emergency was Lily’s first big ballet recital, which he couldn’t attend. In truth, he could easily have rescheduled his trip to LA to record a feature and produce a few tracks for Fifty’s latest album, but he couldn’t have attended the recital in person anyway. So far, he had managed to attend the smaller representations, but since this very recital involved most of the art schools in Detroit, with a bit of press coverage involved, he couldn’t take the risk of causing any problems. So instead, he had his wife FaceTime him, so that he would not miss the whole thing.

The sight would make anyone raise an eyebrow : four hip-hop legends sitting in front of an iPad, watching a five year-old’s ballet recital. 

Which one’s yours, man ? Snoop asked. 

Here, Marshall said proudly. Front and center. 

He lovingly watched his baby dance on stage, dressed as a little mouse (or was it supposed to be a cat ?) In a tiny pink tutu. He arbored the brightest smile upon noticing his good his baby was doing. And, being totally objective, she was the one shining the brightest ! When the performance ended and his wife ended the call, he reluctantly turned off the iPad. He had been gone for a whole week and he was gutted to miss such a big event for Lily. So far, in spite of his hectic schedule, he had been able to attend all the major events for her, showing up whenever he could, whether it was school activities or dance performances. 

You good, bro ? Fifty asked. 

Yeah, yeah, he shrugged. 

Missing the family ? Dre chimed in. 

… Yeah, he admitted. I’m usually able to be there for these things. 

We could have rescheduled, you know ? Snoop said. This shit’s important. I’d never miss my grandchildren’s things. 

I know, Marshall replied. I would have. But it’s a fairly big city event, there’s press and I can’t show up like that. You can’t have Eminem ruining a children’s performance by causing a riot or whatever… I wouldn’t have been able to attend anyway, so I might as well work, you know ? 

The press still don’t know about your kid, right ? Dre asked. 

Nope, he said with a smile. Best kept secret in the country, so far. 

Drake’s meat gets leaked on the Internet and meanwhile, you have a family the world knows nothing about, Fifty mused with a grin. 

It’s better this way, Marshall shrugged. Lily’s living the life I always wanted for my eldest : I can give her everything and she doesn’t have to deal with the whole « being Eminem’s daughter » craze. And Y/N doesn’t have do deal with the attention either. 

Not bad, Dre conceded. We all know you love your privacy. 

And how you get crazy when it comes to your kids’ lives, Fifty added. 

They never asked for the bullshit, Marshall simply said. And I swear to God, if Lily’s face ever gets leaked to the press, you guys will have to visit me in jail. 

The others all chuckled. He had always been a protective father but it was even worse when it came to Lily. Rightfully so, though : when the eldest were growing up, attention was a bit easier to avoid. But now, with social media, his baby could become viral in a matter of hours, with no hope for his team to be able to kill the story by bribing the press or threatening to sue. Even now that Alaina, Hailie and Stevie were grown up, they were always dealing with the consequences of having a famous dad, and he wanted to avoid that for his youngest. The less she knew, the better. As far as she was concerned, her Dad made music she didn’t really care about (who was Eminem to compete with Disney princesses and puppies anyway ?) and she had no idea of the magnitude of things. Most of the time, he was able to go places with her and, on the rare occasion people walked up to him, she just assumed it was people he knew. He was also lucky that, so far, she hadn’t really batted an eye when it came to the security officers that discreetly accompanied them. 

They slowly went back to their recording session, the conversation shifting to the others’ kids, then going back to what brought them to Dre’s studio in the first place : music. A few hours later, he was getting ready for dinner, while FaceTiming Y/N. 

We miss you here, she said. 

I miss you girls too, he admitted. Three days and I’m back home. Is Lily with you ? I want to congratulate her. 

In her room, his wife said. She… doesn’t want to talk to you.

What do you mean she doesn’t want to talk to me ?! He asked. What’s wrong ? The performance was good, she was amazing on stage… What went wrong ? 

You weren’t there to hug her when she walked off stage, like you usually are, Y/N explained. She’s upset. She was a mess for fifteen minutes and Hailie had to bribe her with ice cream. 

Shit, he sighed. 

I told her you had to work, she explained with tears in her eyes. But yes… That was a hard. 

Babe… Are you crying ? He asked. 

Don’t worry, she said with a smile. I’m tired and hormonal. Blame it on the babies you put in me. 

How are my sons, by the way ? He asked with a soft smile.

Your possible sons are making their mom’s life a nightmare, she laughed. If I could, I would sleep all the time. And I don’t sleep as well when you’re not in bed with me. 

A few more nights and I’ll be able to cuddle the shit out of you, he said reassuringly. And I’ll stay home for the rest of your pregnancy. 

It’s fine, she said with a yawn. I’m only nine weeks pregnant. I can manage. 

I can’t wait to tell everyone we’re having two more babies, he said. We talked kids with the guys and I swear… Keeping it a secret is harder than I thought it would be. I’m so excited for my sons. 

Possible sons, she giggled. I have to go and put Lily to bed. Say hi to everyone for me, will you ? 

Sure, he replied. Tell Lily I love her ? I’ll try and call tomorrow morning, ok ? 

Of course, Y/N said. I should warn you though… She’s really upset. And she has her Daddy’s temper, too. 

Fuck, babe, can you… Can you try and get her to talk to me ? Please ? 

He could see Y/N open the door to Lily’s room and ask her if she wanted to say hi to him before bed but he heard his daughter’s voice say « No. He wasn’t here, I’m not talking to him ». These two sentences were enough to break his heart, nearly making him sick. He could see his wife looking annoyed and upset, mouthing a silent « I’m sorry » to the camera. They exchanged a few more words and « I love you » to each other and they ended the call. 

It took about thirty seconds for Marshall to make up his mind : screw dinner, screw work, he was flying home. When he decided to adopt Lily, he promised himself to love her, care for her and never do anything to hurt her, and there was no way he would stay in LA while knowing his baby was sad because of him. What kind of father and husband would that make him, leaving his hormonal pregnant wife to pick up his slack ? In five minutes, he packed everything he had in the guest bedroom he occupied at Dre’s house and went downstairs, carrying his bag. 

Ready for dinner ? Dre asked before seeing he had his bag in hand. Oh… 

Sorry man, he said. I have to fly home. 

Anything wrong ? His mentor asked. 

Upset daughter, exhausted pregnant wife, guilty me, he summed up. 

Pregnant wife, huh ? 

Shit. Wasn’t supposed to tell you, he chuckled. But, yeah. Twins. 

Congrats, man, Dre said as he dapped him. Alright. Go back to the family, we’ll pick up sometimes soon. 

Sure, he said. Thanks. Dinner’s on me, I already put my card down at the restaurant. Say bye to the guys for me. 

I should have known you’d fly home, Dre grinned. 

Why ? Marshall chuckled. 

Because it’s Lily, Dre replied. As far as you’re concerned, it’s her world and we’re all living in it. 

Ten minutes later, he was in the car, begging an annoyed Paul to arrange for the jet to fly him back to Detroit as soon as possible. The manager tried to argue with him about his schedule and how late it was but he knew him well enough to know that there was no convincing him to stay in California any longer. Six hours later, in the middle of the night, he crossed the threshold to his house, his heart warming up at the sight of his family’s things scattered all over the place. Evidently, Y/N had had her arms full with Lily in the past week and he couldn’t help but wonder how they would manage once the twins would be born. He usually preferred tidy spaces, by far, but the realization that the mess was caused by his growing, loving family put a smile on his face. He let his bags in the foyer and went to the bedroom, where he found Y/N fast asleep in one of his tee-shirts, hugging his pillow. He got undressed and tried not to wake her up, though he failed miserably as she jumped as soon as she felt the dip in the mattress. 

Hey beautiful, he said softly. It’s just me. 

You’re home ? She asked with a confused expression on her face. 

It’s 90°F in California but the bed was too cold without you, he said with a smile. I was missing home. 

She immediately engulfed him in a hug and he took in her lovely scent as he returned the embrace. One week without the love of his life was too much. He sniffed and noticed something different. His cologne. On her. 

Missed me ? He asked with a grin. 

Oh, shut up, Y/N said as she rolled her eyes. You know I need a big if you you to fall asleep. 

I see, he said with a smile. Enjoy the tee-shirt, babe. Soon, you’ll be too fat to put my clothes on. 

And you’ll have to sleep on the couch to give my fat ass some space in bed, she giggled. 

No way, he chuckled with a shake of his head. We’re sleeping together until the end of this pregnancy. The four of us. 

He placed a loving hand on his wife’s stomach. She wasn’t really showing yet, but he could swear it was just a tiny bit rounder than when he had left. Or maybe he was simply too excited. Y/N laid back down and he kissed her tenderly before kissing her stomach as well. 

Hey guys, he said softly. I’m home. Thanks for taking care of your Mama for me. 

They’re beating the shit out of me, she giggled before yawning. Between fatigue and morning sickness, work and taking care of Lily, I’m a mess. Haven’t had the time to clean up much. 

I saw that, he replied with a smile. I’ll take care of Lily and the mess tomorrow, you just rest, alright ? 

Ok, she said before kissing him. I think Lily’s going to be pleased to see you. 

You think ? He asked anxiously. 

She’s mad but she’ll get over it eventually, she shrugged. 

How mad are we talking, exactly ? 

« The time you forgot our anniversary » mad, I think, she chuckled. 

Any chance the Hermès bag works for Lily as well ? He joked. 

You’re not getting our five year-old a designer bag, she warned. And you know what got you forgiven wasn’t the bag, or any of the other thousand fancy presents you bought to suck up to me that day. 

I know, he chuckled. I’ll find a way to make it up to her. Hopefully it doesn’t involve watching Frozen again. 

You’re on your own with this one, buddy, Y/N said. If I have to sing « Let it go » one more time, I am jumping out of the window. 

Buddy ? He asked. One week away from you and I’ve been downgraded from « My love » to « Buddy » ? 

Make up for your absence and we’ll see, homie. 

You’re lucky I slept on the jet and I’m all energized, he grinned before pulling her to him. 

Safe to say they didn’t sleep much that night, making up for the time spent apart. Y/N was fast to blame the horniness on the hormones and he couldn’t help but think to himself that, if that was true, he would have a lot of fun in the upcoming months. After the deed was done, though, she immediately fell asleep in his arms. She did seem exhausted and it was probably a good thing that he was back, so that she could rest as much as possible. A glance at the clock and he noticed that it was almost 8:00. Lily’s wake up time. And time for him to make amends to his baby girl. He put on some clothes and made his way to the kitchen to prepare some breakfast. He was putting everything on a tray, ready to bring it to her bedroom when the doorbell rang, the florist delivering the huge bouquet he had ordered just in time. Bouquet in one hand, tray I the other, he went up the stairs and knocked on the door with his foot before entering. 

Daddy ! Lily said as soon as she saw him. 

Hey bug, he said with a smile. 

She was sitting up in bed, in her pink PJs, her hair still in the bun she wore for the representation. A smile passed on his baby’s face, before being quickly replaced by a frown. Almost as if she suddenly remembered that she was mad at him. Y/N could say what she wanted, that she took a lot after his personality (which was not wrong) she was so her mother. Thankfully, fifty years of life, countless girlfriends and four daughters had taught him a lot when it comes to charm offensive. 

Thought you’d enjoy breakfast in bed, today, he said. Got you some flowers, too. Do you know what they are ? 

Lilies, she said with a smile - and he could see she was trying hard to conceal it. Like me.

That’s right, baby, he grinned. You did amazing at your recital, you know ? Made me proud. 

You missed the recital, Daddy  she said. 

I know, bug, he said as he put the tray and the bouquet on her bedside table. But Mommy FaceTimed me and I still watched you dance, you know ? 

You did ? She asked. 

Of course, he replied. Wouldn’t have missed it for the world. Uncle Dre, Uncle Fifty and Snoop watched with me, too. 

But it’s not the same, she pointed out. 

I know, he said. Mommy told you I had to work, right ? 

She nodded with a small pout and mumbled something about him usually never working on Saturdays. At five years old, she wasn’t exactly a baby anymore and she was perfectly capable of sensing when things weren’t usual. Seeing the sadness and disappointment in her eyes broke his heart. He sighed and sat on the edge of her bed.

Want to eat, bug ? He asked. I made your favorite pancakes. 

Ok, she said, still frowning. 

You’re mad at me, huh ? 

She nodded as she started eating. He sighed, not sure what he could say. His wife giving him the silent treatment when she was mad at him wasn’t enjoyable, but having your five year-old do it was a nightmare. 

I’m really sorry, he said. 

Will you come to the next year’s ? She asked. 

I… uh… maybe, he said. 

Obviously, this wasn’t the desired answer. She stared at him with her big blue eyes, as if she was giving him an opportunity to correct his answers. He scratched his throat and realized that it was probably time to have a talk about him possibly having to miss some events. 

Look, bug, I might not be able to make it to next year’s recital if it’s a big event, he explained. 

Why ? She asked. You don’t want to see me on the stage ? 

No, no, it’s not that, baby, he said reassuringly. I always want to see you on stage. No one is more proud of you than I am. I want to show up to all of your recitals, but sometimes, there’s a lot of people. 

So ? 

So… You know I make music, right ? He asked. You know that’s my job, and that’s how I make money ?

Yes, she said. In the studio. With the big words I can’t say. 

That’s right, he nodded. Well… A lot of people listen to my music. 

They do ? She asked with a raised eyebrow. 

The side-eye almost made him chuckle. With his level of fame, it would be easy for him to get big-headed but, thankfully, having children usually did a great job in keeping you humble. Rap God or not, his kids usually weren’t too impressed. It had taken years for his eldest to start showing an interest in his music, and Lily was no different. 

They do, he nodded. I’m sort of… famous. So a lot of people know me. You know, the places where we usually go, a lot of people wave and say hi ? 

Yes, she said. 

They’re not my friends, he said. They know me from my music. 

Ok, she said, still not seeing what he was getting at. 

Usually, people are very nice to me, and it’s not a big deal, but if I turn up at a big event, a lot of people might come and talk to me. Like… A lot of people, he explained. And if I show up to one of your big events where the press is, people are going to take pictures and if they see you with me, they might start bugging you. 

Really ? She asked. 

Yes. And, as your Dad, it’s my job to be there for you, but a most important part of the job is to make sure that no one bothers you, he added. So, if you have these big events, I’m super proud of you, and I want to be there but, sometimes, I’m going to have to watch from somewhere else. I will always try to show up, and I can do it if it’s small events for school and stuff, but big events with thousands of people is a bit harder.

Oh. Ok, she said with a hint of disappointment. 

But no matter if I’m here or not, I’m always super proud of you, you know ? And I never want to make you sad, he added. 

So, it’s not that you like work more ? She asked with pleading eyes. 

Of course not, bug, he said as he stroked her cheek. Work will never be more important than you. Never. 

Ok, she said with an understanding face. 

Are you still mad at me ? He asked. 

No, she shrugged. But I’m still sad. 

Let me make it up to you, ok ? He suggested. How about we spend the day together, just the two of us ? We can do whatever you want. 

She nodded with a sly smile and, deep down, though he was relieved to see her smile, he knew he was doomed. And, indeed, she made him go through the labour of Hercules. They went to walk Winky, the corgi they got her for her fifth birthday and then, she wanted to go for some ice cream. She knew full well she wouldn’t be allowed to have it so soon after breakfast, but she reminded him that he said they could do « whatever she wanted », while making puppy eyes at him. He obliged and took her to her favorite ice cream place, at the mall. Thankfully, it was Sunday so there weren’t a lot of people around. The two security guards, dressed in regular civilian clothes so as not to attract attention, were almost unnecessary. It was one of the perks of living in Detroit : not as many people as NYC or LA, no paparazzis, not so many tourists and, mostly, people either didn’t recognize him (perks of dressing with regular, inexpensive clothes for everyday life) or treated him as part of the scenery. He knew full well that, if he had lived elsewhere, everyone would know about his marriage, him adopting Lily and his wife being pregnant. Thankfully, though, he was able to maintain a private family life and prayed that it would remain this way for as long as possible. At the mall, they saw a poster for Taylor Swift’s album and Lily was really excited. 

Daddy, when you say you’re famous… Do you mean like her ? Lily asked. 

Yes, he said. Kind of like her. A bit more. I’ve been doing this for a long time, you know ? Longer than her.

Because you’re old ? She asked. 

Older, he grimaced. 

Mommy says you’re old, she pointed out with a giggle. 

Well I’m going to have to have a talk with Mommy, he said as he rolled his eyes. 

Lily ended up dragging him to what seemed to be every single store of the mall. Ice cream shop. Build A Bear. Clothing stores. Toy stores. They finally went home after he spent an ungodly amount of money but the smile on Lily’s face was worth it. However, the day was still young and his daughter was clearly not done. Once they were home, she insisted on having a princess tea party with him and the two bears they made at the mall, so he found himself on the floor of her bedroom, drinking juice in a teacup while she applied makeup on his face. He inspected himself in the mirror. 

Are you sure that’s the exact same way you had your makeup done for your dance recital ? He asked with a raised eyebrow. 

Yes, she nodded. Just like that. But I had whiskers because I was a mouse.

Mmmh, ok, he said as he tried to hold a chuckle. I need the whiskers then. 

When his wife came to see them, she burst out laughing as soon as she saw him. 

Are you guys having fun ? She asked with a grin. 

Time of our lives, he said sarcastically. Right Lily ? 

Yes, she said. Daddy said we can do whatever I want today. 

Is that so ? Y/N asked. Looks like Daddy should be more careful with his words. 

Aren’t I the prettiest princess in all the land ? Marshall asked. 

Yes my love, she giggled. Though I believe a princess would have a proper manicure. 

Mommy can I have your nail polish for Daddy ?! Lily suddenly exclaimed. 

I’ll bring it right away, Y/N said with an evil grin. 

I can divorce you. I have my lawyer on speed-dial, he warned - but she was already gone. 

Of course, Y/N just had to join the fun and get in on the torture. He loudly complained but, in truth, he was too happy to see the smiles on the faces of two of his favorite girls as they did his nails. 

Starting to miss Dre’s house ? Y/N asked. 

Missed you girls too much, he said. I don’t think I could get such an… artsy manicure in California. 

Do you like it, Daddy ? Lily asked proudly. 

Oh, sure, he said. I never thought my cuticles could use sparkly nail polish all over them, but I was clearly missing out. 

You’ll be so pretty for tonight, his daughter said. 

Tonight ? He asked. 

Your daughters are coming for dinner, Y/N said. I didn’t tell them you’re back, it’ll be a nice surprise. Especially if they see you like this. 

No way in hell, he chuckled. 

Not even the nails ? Lily asked with puppy eyes. But you said…

Maybe the nails can stay, he sighed. 

They spent the rest of the day as a family of three and, just when he thought he had dodged a bullet, Lily begged them to watch Frozen. Again. And just like every parent bullied by the smiles and supplication of their little one, they obliged. Y/N fell asleep on Marshall’s shoulder and Lily sang along to Let It Go while coloring his tattoos with highlighters. 

I missed you, Daddy, she said. I’m happy you’re home. 

I’m happy to be home, he said. I missed you too, bug. 

I’m having fun today, she added. 

I’m glad, he chuckled. 

In the evening, the whole family was reunited for dinner and no one missed Marshall’s elegant manicure. This brought back memories for Alaina and Hailie, who used to beg him to do his makeup. Being a girl Dad for about thirty years, he’d certainly had his fair share of tea parties and home spa sessions. He absolutely loved having daughters, though, and if that’s what it took to put a smile on their faces, he would happily endure hours of this. However, he wondered what it would be like, having boys in the house. He was absolutely positive the twins were boys - no specific reason, just a gut feeling. Originally, Y/N and him had agreed not to find out the gender before the birth, but he wasn’t too sure how he could be expected to wait for about seven more months. And he couldn’t wait to hit the twelve week mark either, because keeping the pregnancy a secret from the rest of the family was a nightmare. He was just so excited to be a Dad again and he was so proud that the love of his life was carrying his children. She was already a splendid Mom for Lily and he knew it would be the same for the twins. The conversation shifted and someone pronounced the word « delusional ». 

What’s that word ? Lily asked. 

Delusional ? Hailie said. When someone’s delusional, it means that they believe things that aren’t true. 

Oh ok, she said. Like what ? 

Like believing in San- Stevie began. 

Like Stevie believing she’s getting that new car if she doesn’t pay attention, Marshall scolded with a smile - not wanting Lily to be crushed if she learned Santa wasn’t real. 

Oops, she said. 

Is Daddy  delusional then ? Lily asked. 

Wha- No ? Y/N said confused. Why would he be delusional, baby ? 

Because he thinks he’s more famous than Taylor Swift, Lily explained. 

You don’t believe me ? He asked, almost offended. 

She is really really famous you know ? his daughter explained. You, you’re just Daddy. 

Everyone chuckled and stared lovingly at Lily. They all knew how important it was to Marshall that she be shielded from his fame, also because he didn’t want it to get to her head that her Dad was famous. He kissed the top of her head and smiled. He was fine with the title, really. When he was at home with his children, he was just Daddy, and that was more than fine with him. There was nothing more upsetting to him than Eminem getting in the way of his family life. So he was really fine with her not getting the level of things for now, hoping that he wouldn’t have to miss another event anytime soon. 

When it was time to put Lily to bed, he went with her downstairs to tuck her in and read her a bedtime story. 

Time to sleep, now, baby, he said. Good night. 

I had fun today, Daddy, she said softly. And thank you for the flowers. 

Am I forgiven ? He asked with a smile. 

Yes, she said. 

I love you, you know ? He said softly. And, as much as possible, I promise I will not let work get in the way. I always do my best, you know ? Whether it’s for you, Hailie, Lainey, Stevie or the babies…

What babies ? She asked. 

He stared at her with a hint of panic, internally facepalming himself. Oops. 

Do you know how to keep secrets, baby ? 

[cillyscribbles]

munkuposting (metastrap?) for the jellinclined (i am so sorry)

you tell me i'm insane but i know my truth and my truth is that munkustrap wants to help her. he wants to reach out and help her up like he just helped jennyanydots during her song. he leans down and it's not just so he can look at her better. it's not just cause there's no point to his defensive stance here except for her to see, for him to communicate she's unwanted, and he knows it. shit dude the guy can't look her in the eyes for longer than 5 seconds.

like come on. munkustrap's running after old deuteronomy and the rest of the older/less agile cats so much in this goddamn film he might as well be Munkustrap the Mobility Aid Cat. man knows what he wants in life and that's going on as many walks with senior citizens hanging off his arm as physically possible and neither god nor the heaviside layer will stand in his way.

his responsibility's a whole different thing, though. look at the lad puffing up when grizabella shows up. that's a guard he uses against perceived threats like macavity and it's well and warranted then, but what in the name of ye olde cat gods is the old lady gonna do? garbage stink them all to death? it's performative as hell on purpose. both of them know she's not gonna jump him and he doesn't need to protect himself or his fellow cats from her physically.

in the macavity scares, odd as it might look on a person, The MunkuStance™ is a genuine threat. he's up above everyone else or he's one of the few cats on the stage, he's spreading himself out to look bigger, he HISSES lmao.

look at the lad. hissssss lmao i love him.

not only is he saying i won't hesitate bitch he's also establishing himself as The Guy You Fight. if you're an outsider looking in, you're probably not gonna notice Mr Mistoffelees Scampering Through The Pipes Again, but you sure as hell are gonna see the Snarling Tabby Fresh From Hell hopping around in the middle of the stage with his legs 16 kilometers apart at all times. and okay, doing that for the entire musical sure is a Choice, but it's a Character Choice, and mr michael gruber the man you are. the star that you are. i want to send him flowers and chocolate and a card. i would greatly like to do that.

with grizabella though? jesus christ she's about as threatening as a patchy sock. it's not even his first instinct to go Tall Big Puffy when he's trailing after her because there's genuinely nothing to defend against there.

he just sort of slowly stands into it as though he's forgotten he was supposed to be Protecting for a second. the stance, the threat, all that's only there to set a dynamic. it's there to say you're not one of us, we don't like you, please go away, but he's half-assing it so much it loses all its i won't hesitate bitch and turns into i have never hesitated so hard in my entire life. he still establishes himself as The Guy You Fight, but it's obvious grizabella isn't about to fight anyone, so now he's just The Guy She's Staring In Incredulous Longing At, and he can't even hold her gaze for long enough to pretend it's not getting to him because at his core he's not a bad person and he knows that all this is kind of a Dick Move.

this is what makes munkustrap so dummy god tier as a character to me. he may wish he could help grizabella. hell he may even want her back, if not as openly as old deuteronomy does. when all the cats scuttle away and turn their backs to grizabella before memory reprise, munkustrap never even fucking bothers ?? like he's straight up just watching her, and then later watching old deuteronomy watch her like with the most somber wee eyebrows up so can we finally do something about this expression i've ever seen on a performer lmao.

but that means nothing without the approval of the entire tribe! absolutely nothing! because munkustrap, in that regard, is exactly like old deuteronomy: what he wants comes second to what the jellicles want. it's harder to see in him because old deuteronomy is mostly up on the tire being cat jesus and munkustrap mingles with the rest of the ensemble way more, but it's really obvious when you look. they defer to his leadership, but he defers to their collective decisions.

he moves mistoffelees away from grizabella (just like the rest of the older cats) because mistoffelees doesn't know any better and grizabella is untouchable, but then he stalls and waits when demeter reaches out to her. like, i'm pretty sure he would've just let her touch grizabella right then and there. had demeter been a little less aware of the fact that this was the first 30 minutes of the musical, i'm pretty sure she would've just taken grizabella back in right then and there and memory wouldn't have even been necessary. munkustrap sure wasn't about to do shit about it.

he's actively leaning back to give her space!! (i know logistically that it's mr michael giving an opening for ms aeva to execute her Conflicted Scuttle Away but munkustrap is still leaning back however you put it so i'm right automatically. haw yee)

i'm fascinated by it specifically because this way it's almost as though munkustrap is an extension of the jellicle collective, if that makes sense. obviously he's the narrator so we can't give him a complex emotional storyline if we want to keep the aryas in single digits, but in turn this means that now he's a character who chooses to forgo his own feelings in favour of those of his community, and that's just, man, that's just. man. ca(s)t of all time for real. a guardian and a weapon and a storyteller and a teacher and not one of those for his own sake. Man.

tl;dr, old deuteronomy can be hella proud of his kid, and i can eventually stop crying. also here are the gifs of him finally getting to comfort grizabella a little. experience emotions with me.

unfortunately i have similar (if slightly less rambling) thoughts on tugger and why he's constantly being such a massive cunt to grizabella lmao. if you guys are unfortunate enough i may subject myself to the giffing and writing of that post too. toodlepip ✌️

[avantegarda]

Razzle Dazzle

So it's been like 2 years since I wrote any Silmarillion stories, and like 4 since I wrote anything in my Victorian AU. But for @luthiendear's Luthien Week, I finally am returning to my roots and writing a short that I've been mulling over for quite some time.

Summary: Luthien duBois, Louisiana heiress and hopeless romantic, kickstarts the greatest jewel heist in American history.

---

San Francisco, 1899

The Angband Club

Luthien duBois was a great believer in positive thinking. It had helped her sail through plenty of trouble already, and no matter how terrifying the man in front of her was, she decided to believe her plan would work. It had gotten off to a decent start, anyway; Beren had gone in the day before and got himself hired as a barman, and the rest was in Lulu's hands.

Mr. Morgoth, frequently described as the most evil gangster in America, looked her up and down suggestively and stroked his luxuriant dark mustache. "You're a pretty thing," he drawled. "Only reason I let you in here, really. Tell me, young lady, what can I do for you?"

"I've come looking for work," she replied with a coquettish smile. "Word around town is, you run the finest saloon in this city, with top-notch talent. And I'm an excellent dancer."

"Oh, I can well believe that. But you must understand, miss..."

Lulu dropped into a curtsy. "Call me Nightingale."

"How sweet. You must understand, Miss Nightingale, I have very lofty standards for my employees. Simple talent isn't enough, nor are big eyes and pretty ankles." He set his drink down with a clatter. "Loyalty, miss, and discretion. The same a general might demand of his troops. Behind these doors, there is no law but mine. Have you the strength of character to promise this?"

I have enough strength of character to rob you blind, you old roué, thought Lulu fiercely. But she managed an innocent giggle. "Why, of course, Mr. M! It would be my absolute honor. For you, I'm as well-behaved as a schoolgirl."

"Oh, but I do hope you won't be too well-behaved. I like my girls with a bit of...spice."

Revolting man! "Why don't you let me audition," she purred, "and you'll see just how spicy I can be."

He gestured to the small stage across the room. "Do, please. I cannot wait."

She took a deep breath and pulled the pins from her hair, letting it fall around her like a cloak. "Play something lively," she ordered the man at the piano, and hopped up onto the stage. As the pianist struck up a jolly ragtime tune, she shut out her surroundings and danced.

She'd been trained in ballet, but this wasn't really ballet, not entirely. There were bits of flamenco, some calypso she'd seen on the streets of New Orleans, a hint of Irish jig, and plenty of whatever simply occurred to her in the moment. There was no point in being shy; she did have talent, and it didn't feel like a sin to show it off. Even in this situation.

The song ended at last, and it took a moment to remember she was in a dank gentlemen's club being leered at by a slimy old criminal. She bowed gracefully, trying her best not to shudder in disgust.

"You weren't lying, my dear," Morgoth breathed. "Consider yourself hired. And perhaps I can tempt you to give me a private performance from time to time.

"It would be my pleasure," Luthien lied. "But golly, this is such an honor! We ought to celebrate, don't you think?"

"We certainly should." Morgoth snapped his fingers at the pianist. "Boy! Two brandies, double-quick!"

The pianist- a young fellow with curly dark hair and olive skin-nodded obediently and scurried to the bar, returning with two glasses. Morgoth raised his to Luthien.

"To you, my pretty Nightingale," he said, and drank.

Three...

Two...

One.

Morgoth's dark eyes grew wide and confused, and he let out an undignified burp before slumping to the floor. Luthien sighed with relief as the pianist hurried to her side.

"Nice work," she said. "Where's the real pianist?"

"Out cold behind the dustbins. He'll be fine." Beren glanced down at the unconscious gangster. "What an old pervert," he muttered, shaking his head. "Sorry you had to do that, Lulu."

Luthien, who had been rummaging around in Morgoth's pockets, withdrew her hand with a grin. In it was a tiny silver key. "Don't be too sorry, darlin'. We're halfway there."

[starboybutler]

Cotton Candy Land (Ch.1)

summary: on top of elvis’s already-packed performance schedule, he had been receiving all kinds of violent threats. it had started when they were out of town, in houston, but they seemed to follow him. the first threat had been harmless enough– a shoddy note with chicken-scratch writing that said “i am going to kill you”, but now they were becoming physical– and taking a toll on elvis.

word count: 3496

warnings: age regression, crying, death threats, panic attacks, tantrums

notes: hi! this is my third attempt at a multi-chapter fic, and i hope that it goes well! elvis's age regression has always been a fascinating topic to me, so i wanted to write a fanfiction based on it and how it affected him. i'm including jerry and steve because i like them. we may get smut in the future, as well as some fluff/crushes, but who knows! i'm just really excited to get this first chapter up. shoutout to bee (dontbeecruel) for beta reading!

enjoy!

dim moonlight shone through the thin, white curtains of the work suite, illuminating the room in a pale aura. a heavy, dense silence hung in the air as binder and schilling stood on opposite sides of their paperwork-littered desk, their expressions exasperated.

tonight had been stressful.

on top of elvis’s already-packed performance schedule, he had been receiving all kinds of violent threats. it had started when they were out of town, in houston, but they seemed to follow him. the first threat had been harmless enough– a shoddy note with chicken-scratch writing that said “i am going to kill you”, but now they were becoming physical– and taking a toll on elvis.

in the middle of his performance tonight, two men from the front row hopped up onstage and rushed towards elvis, and things went south. colonel rushed from his seat in the crowd, while jerry, red, and elvis attempted to draw their guns.

the men were quickly subdued, and elvis was dragged off the stage, yelling and screaming that he would kill whoever just charged him. he was furious. the colonel met up with him backstage, and it was suggested to him that the show be stopped due to safety concerns– but elvis insisted he continue. he refused to be pushed off of the stage.

binder pressed his fingers under his aviators, rubbed at the bridge of his nose, and squeezed his eyes shut. he was developing quite the migraine trying to figure out how to deal with all of this. he thought he had security all under control– but knowing the colonel, he had probably done something dumb behind his back to compromise that.

schilling was just as stressed. serving as elvis’s bodyguard, close friend, and public relations– he had a whole myriad of issues to worry about– but the most daunting was the press. he knew those newspaper writers would be on him as soon as they could, asking for any behind the scenes details of the attacks. then there was the problem of elvis’s mental state. even though he insisted he was fine, both binder and schilling knew that the man was growing more and more paranoid with each passing hour. he had barely slept since the first threat. there’s no way he would just shake off this much more jarring one.

“we should…” jerry started, hesitantly. “we should find ep. talk to him. check up on him.”

binder let his sunglasses fall back into place on the bridge of his nose, sighing as he ran a hand through his brunette locks. “will he even let us in his room?” he asks, affixing his wary eyes on schilling. “he's been pretty shaken up lately. he’s not letting anyone in. not even vernon.”

“i know.” jerry sighs, crossing his arms over his chest. “i mean, he might let me in, but…”

“over his own father?”

“hey man, vernon and e have a bit of a… rocky relationship.” jerry says, shrugging. “i’m just saying, i might have better chances to be let in.”

binder fell silent, pursing his lips in thought. “it's worth a shot,” he admits, before sighing. “christ– we should really get to all this paperwork though.”

“later.” schilling mutters. “i’m worried about elvis.”

binder gave a curt nod, and followed after the taller man as he stepped out from their workspace. truth be told, he was worried about elvis too– terribly worried– but he just didn't need another earful from the colonel about his ‘hippie work ethic’, and how he was always falling behind on important matters.

sometimes it was maddening how much the colonel was on him. he wanted to walk away at times, but he reminded himself that he took this job for elvis. the colonel was annoying to deal with, of course, but binder needed to stick around to make elvis's job a little more bearable. binder always fought that old toad tooth and nail for ep to have more creative freedoms, but the colonel just had this aura to him. it's like he knew how to twist your words and thoughts just perfectly enough to make you reword yourself until you agreed with him. most of the time, steve opted for pointedly ignoring the man, but sometimes he couldn't help but snap back at him.

jerry was much more skilled at dealing with the colonel. mainly because– for some odd reason– he got along with him. schilling was just that type of guy. he got along with everyone, no matter how unlikeable the other person seemed. maybe it was his good looks, or his southern charm– but whatever it was, the colonel took a liking to him. jerry didn't necessarily see parker as a friend, but he didn't see him as an enemy either. when binder asked about it, schilling said that him and the colonel were a “strictly business” arrangement, and that they just happened to agree in those terms.

hell, maybe jerry should take his job. they’d be a lot more productive without parker poking his nose into everything binder did, and then purposely doing something to render his plans useless.

the two men stepped into the elevator, pressing the button that would take them directly up to elvis’s private room. it wasn't that far of a ride, as the work suite was in pretty close quarters with elvis– in case he needed to speak to binder or schilling about anything. it felt like forever, though– thanks to the tense situation at hand. usually when they visited elvis, it was under a much more light-hearted guise– like for a game of cards, or to see if they could sneak out on the town without getting recognized.

but nothing like this had ever occurred before. who knows how elvis would be feeling? he was so hard to predict sometimes– you’d think he'd be feeling one way after a certain event, only to find him feeling the complete and exact opposite.

the elevator halted, the doors slowly opened and let them onto their desired floor. it was quiet– almost eerily so– as they approached the large, intricately decorated double doors, steeling themselves with a deep breath.

schilling knocked tentatively, holding his breath as he waited for a response.

nothing.

he didn't seem phased. he just knocked again, a bit firmer this time, and spoke loudly enough so whoever was inside could hear.

“ep? it's…it’s jerry ‘n steve,” he said softly, biting his lip. “we uh– wanted to check on ya.”

silence.

binder was starting to get worried at this point– and it's obvious that schilling was as well. the way his brows furrowed together tightly told steve everything he needed to know.

“try the doorknob.” binder said, nodding towards one of the shiny, golden knobs. schilling hummed and tentatively gripped one of them, attempting to turn it and stiffening when it obliged, allowing one of the large doors to open.

steve swallowed heavily. elvis’s doors were almost never unlocked.

he looked over to see jerry borderline panicking. his eyes were wide, and he seemed to be frozen on the spot as he stared into the darkness of the room before him. binder placed a hand on his shoulder lowering his voice a fraction.

“hey– don't panic,” he muttered, giving the younger man’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “we haven't gone in yet. don't assume the worst.”

“okay.” schilling gulped, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath to steel himself. “okay. yeah.”

they walked into the room slowly. it was cold and dark– almost pitch black, save for a small bit of moonlight peeking through a crack in the curtains. steve stumbled over his feet a few times, but jerry seemed to know the room like the back of his hand. he swiftly made his way over to the right-hand side of the room, calling out anxiously.

“elvis? it's us, man!”

there was still no response, but binder became aware of a soft, barely-present noise coming from the bed tucked away in the corner. he strained to listen out, trying to figure out what the source of the noise was, only to get thrown off by schilling yelling out again, panicked.

“elvis–!”

“shh!” binder hushed, making jerry's head whip around to face him, half-curious, half-pissed. before he could snap at steve for shushing him in a moment of panic, he seemingly heard the noise as well.

steve held a hand out, blindly feeling for the edge of the mattress. he sat himself down, leaning forward until the noise grew into a more distinctive sound.

someone was crying.

“elvis…?” steve murmured, blinking in attempt to adjust to the dark of the room. “is that you?”

only then, he spotted a lump under the blankets of the bed, quivering and jumping with each harsh noise that left it. instinctively, steve reached out and pulled the blankets away, revealing a red-faced, trembling, crying elvis.

he was curled up into a ball, sniffling gently into the synthetic fur of a small plush bear that was clutched to his chest. his tears glittered in the faint light, illuminating his flushed cheeks– the small bit of his face that they could actually somewhat see.

he looked so small, like a little boy.

“g’way,” elvis sniffled, trying to hide his face behind the now soaked stuffed animal. “leave me ‘lone.”

no one spoke for a brief moment– just out of pure shock. out of all the possible things they could have discovered, this wasn't even a possibility for them– but here they were.

in reality, maybe they should have seen a sort of breakdown coming. the death threats weren't the only thing bothering elvis. the cancellation of his overseas tour had kickstarted this whole series of events. after that, he started his american tour, which was a whole other stressor for him– then the colonel was still so adamant about him performing at the goddamn international twice a day. in other words, elvis was at his limit– and while he had the temper of a thousand suns… he was most likely just exhausted rather than angry.

still…to see him crying, cuddled up to a plush toy was far from expected. though, now that binder pondered on it, it did make a bit of sense. elvis didn't have the easiest of childhoods– growing up dirt poor with only his momma and his love of comic books to skirt him by. maybe what they were seeing was elvis’s way of trying to relive that childhood.

jerry spoke first. it felt appropriate, seeing as he had a closer relationship with elvis. with a curious expression, he knelt down by the bed until he was eye level with the sniffling, trembling elvis.

“hey, you okay, ep?” he asks lowly, his voice gentle and laced with concern. “It’s jerry. a-and steve. we came to check on you, ‘cuz we were worried ‘bout ya after what happened on stage–”

“no!” the raven haired man cried out, harshly jerking his body so that he was facing the wall opposed to schilling. “no no no! don’ talk about that!” he cried out, his voice broken and utterly distraught at the reminder of what went down on stage. he was being absolutely petulant, the tears streaming down his face becoming fatter. jerry cursed under his breath as elvis continued his tantrum. “d-d-don’ wanna think ‘bout it! j-jus wanna go home!”

“alright, alright,” jerry muttered lowly, his expression grew more concerned as elvis went on, his grip on the stuffed bear tightened significantly as he thrashed around. steve felt absolutely helpless as he watched the other man try to calm elvis down, only for the dark haired man to thrash around more wildly in frustration.

binder felt horrible for his boss. seeing him so clearly distraught made his heart clench in a painful way. he could have done a better job to prevent this pain. maybe if he had pushed back against the colonel more– elvis wouldn't be in such a pained mindset.

spurred on by his guilt, he slowly extended a hand towards his boss, laying it on his shin gently. elvis slowed in his thrashing for a moment, thrown off by the touch. he stared at steve, who was just giving him a patient, understanding look. schilling set his jaw, taking the momentary calm as an opportunity to speak once more.

“we’re here, elvis. we just want you to be okay.” he murmured.

the man stilled, his chest heaving as the tears continued to roll down his cheeks hotly, staining the satin of his top with little wet blotches. his wailing slowly turned into sporadic whimpers, his shaky hands reaching out for either of the two men beside him for comfort. they obliged him, scooting closer to elvis and allowing him to cling onto them as tightly as he needed to. he pressed his tear-stained face into the crook of binder’s neck, making the man jolt in surprise. elvis continued sniffling, his plush bear now dangling in his grasp as he weakly sobbed into steve’s warm skin.

the men shared a look, a mix of bewilderment, relief, and slight fear. how long would elvis be like…this?

“what's the matter, elvis?” schilling asked, rubbing a large hand up and down his back. when all he got in response was a series of harsh, hiccupy breaths, jerry hushed him and pat him on the back firmly. “hey, c’mon. it's alright. no more tears, you're alright.”

“take a deep breath.” binder said softly, his voice laced with an unsure, wavering tone that he inwardly cursed at himself for. “just breathe.”

the dark-haired man took a series of deep, shaky breaths, before he lifted his head from the damp crevice of binder’s skin. his eyes were red and glassy, his face shiny with his tears. his lip was trembling– giving him the look of a lost little boy. binder felt an overwhelming urge to protect him.

“...’m sorry,” elvis muttered, his voice soft and hoarse from his earlier crying. “d-didn't mean ‘t yell.” he sniffles, his face flushed with shame as he avoided eye contact with either man. “‘m a bad boy.”

“no, no,” jerry said softly, shaking his head. “you're not bad.”

“yeah.” binder agreed softly, moving a stray piece of hair from elvis’s eyes. “you’ve had a rough day. you're allowed to be upset.”

“b-but i yelled,” he murmured. “i-i yelled at you….’n…i-i-i was bein’ mean.”

“that’s okay. we don't care about that now. we just wanna be sure that you're alright.” steve explained, watching as elvis pawed at his eyes feverishly. “are you alright?”

“mhm.” elvis answered with a pitiful little sniffle, leaning into binder once more. “i’m jus’ tired…’n scared…lonely,” he admitted, pulling the tear stained bear close to his chest. “wan’ go home.”

“i know,” schilling piped up. “we just got a little while longer, and we’ll be back at graceland, playin’ football in the yard. how's that sound?”

“wanna go home to all ‘m stuffies,” he mumbled, rocking back and forth gently. “a-all them in my room, up in ‘m closet…” elvis said softly, smiling gently to himself.

“s…stuffies?” steve asked, curious.

elvis wipes at his nose with his sleeve. “l-like this guy..!” he said, holding up the brown bear in his arms. “e-e-except at home, i-i got lions, ‘n tigers, a-and even little b-b-bunnies….”

“is that right?” schilling asked, a small smile on his lips. “do they all have names?”

“mhm,” his boss muttered, shy as he idly played with his stuffed animal's arms. “all of ‘em.”

“maybe when we get back, you can give us a little tour.” jerry mused, giving elvis a patient little smile.

elvis stared at schilling owlishly, before looking away and flushing a light pink high on his cheekbones. he pressed his face into the fur of his bear once more. “okay,”

steve felt the clenching in his heart be replaced by a warm, fuzzy feeling. seeing him calm, and somewhat demure made him flood with relief– elvis truly seemed happy when he was like this.

was it odd? maybe a little. steve had never seen anything like it where he was from, but in this line of work, he learned to be open-minded. he was just glad it was him and schilling, one of elvis’s closest friends, that happened to stumble upon him in this state of mind, and not someone that might have set him off more– like the colonel, or maybe even vernon.

with a little hum, steve stood. “well, we need to get going. we got a lot of work to get to.”

elvis’s face fell. he looked disappointed. “oh. okay.”

jerry cocked his head to the side at his reaction, leaning down so that he was eye-level with him. “...what's wrong?”

elvis averted his gaze from the two men shyly, swaying back and forth lazily as he muttered softly into the soft, synthetic fur of his teddy bear.

“wan’ you to stay,”

“me?” jerry asked. “or steve?”

“both,” elvis sniffled. “don' wanna be alone.”

jerry and steve shared a curious look, before looking back at the small, frail looking elvis.

“you want us to stay with you?” steve asked, to which elvis nodded in response meekly, wiping at his eyes. his movements were growing more and more sluggish, his eyes becoming droopy and lidded as he spoke again.

“mhm. need…what if someone tries ‘t attack me ‘gain? you’ll stop ‘em, right?” he mumbled, eyes beginning to flutter shut as he slurred out his words. “you’ll protect yittle elvie..?”

steve watched as the man dozed off, the ear of his stuffie between his lips as his breath began to even out. jerry pressed a hand to his lower back, guiding him to lay down fully in the soft, plush pillows.

“i’ll protect you, bud.” schilling muttered, his expression fond as he watched the man nuzzle his nose into his stuffed animal, a small, content smile on his lips.

binder blinked up at schilling, who was already kicking off his shoes and making himself comfortable in the bed beside elvis. he sat up, his eyebrows furrowed.

“are we actually gonna sleep in here with him?”

“i am.” jerry answered simply, settling on his side. “he asked me to, so i’m gonna stay. he needs me.”

“but our work–”

“christ man, if you're so worried about that you don't gotta stay!” schilling whispered, annoyed. “y’can leave if you want, but i’m staying here– where it matters.”

binder felt his face flush with shame under schilling's scornful gaze. he hadn't meant to come off like he didn’t care about elvis, but he just didn't want to have to deal with another long, boring lecture from the colonel because they were behind again. all of this stuff was kind of starting to get to him as well. all he wanted was to get his work done in peace– without hearing the colonel butcher his name and call him a hippie.

“no, i…i’m sorry,” steve muttered, fidgeting with his ascot idly. “i’ll stay. i just– ugh, i don’t wanna hear his mouth in the morning.” binder sighed, undoing the fabric around his neck.

schilling's expression softened slightly in understanding. “yeah, i hear ya. i know he never yells at me directly– but man, i hate hearin’ him yell period.” he murmured, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. steve huffed warily in amusement, before silence fell over the both of them.

“...y’shouldn’t let him talk to you like that.”

“i don't…uh, really have a choice.” steve admitted. “i’m not…the confrontational kind. i prefer to push back in a much less direct way. he just…he just keeps approaching me, though, like he knows how uncomfortable he makes me.”

“he prolly does,” jerry hummed, his voice growing tired. “wouldn't put it past ‘im.”

binder smirked crookedly. “you getting tired on me, schilling?”

“hell yeah,” he mumbled, his eyes halfway closed. “been a long day. we all need some sleep.” he yawned, finally shutting his eyes.

“fine. goodnight.” steve hummed, laying his head down. he didn't get a response– just snoring.

he laughed to himself, studying the two men in front of him. elvis was fast asleep, clutching onto that same little bear for dear life as he chewed on it's ear, mumbling incoherently in his sleep. it made binder think. he mentioned his collection of plushies at home… so how long has this been a thing?

taking elvis’s past into account, and his relationship with his mother, binder suspected that this was more that a quirk or a hobby of his. he seemed like he was genuinely a little boy. like he couldn't control his emotions. that pitiful, petulant look in his eyes, those tears rolling down his flushed cheeks, the worn stuffed bear he clutched onto like a lifeline– maybe it was a lot deeper than just another thing he did.

steve could only wonder on the specifics as he dozed off, the soft snores of the other two men lulling him into a dreamless sleep.

[crimefightingspiderguy]

holding out for a hero

Summary: Shaun (Shang-Chi) offers you go out for drinks and who are you to refuse?

Warnings: Drinking. Talk of sex (none actually happens). No spoilers for Shang-Chi and the Legend of the the Ten Rings (but I do give away what his job is in the movie if you didn't know that pre-movie).

Pairings: Shang-Chi x reader

Word count: 2,492

A/N: I did make the female reader bisexual in this piece, but if that's not how you identify, it's only briefly mentioned in a sentence or two and you can just swap out the pronouns, or skip over it really quick, without affecting the plot :) Also, please do not think I'm using the name Shaun because I didn't want to use Shang-Chi or am being disrespectful to his true name. I'm basing this timeline wise, before he reveals his past to anyone close to him.

“Hey guys!” You waved to Shaun and Katy as you walked into the hotel to clock in. You were taking over Katy’s shift. She needed to go home early to go to the doctors, but Shaun was still there for another 3 hours with you. You were very willing to take over her shift when she asked. You loved working with both of them and any chance you got to, you gladly took it. I mean, who wouldn’t want to get paid to hang out with your best friends?

“You’re welcome.” You heard Katy say to Shaun as she was walking inside to clock out, passing you by with a cheeky wink, as you took your spot next to him.

“Well, she’s in an awful good mood for having to go to the doctors. I thought she had a fear of the doctors.” You gasped, “Is she drunk?”

He chuckled, “No. She’s not actually going to the doctors. She just wanted an excuse to leave work early to go to some concert in LA.”

“Oh, that wench! I gave up going on a date to come in for her. I thought she was dying or something.” You pouted, not actually mad at her, but you were still sad you told your date no.

“You had a date? Who’s the lucky one.” Shaun asked.

“Well, she is a lucky gal who I paid to go to dinner without me.” You huffed.

“You paid her to go out to dinner? By herself?”

“Well, we already had reservations, but I told her something came up with work and I had to go in. But she could take the reservation if she wanted, my treat. I’m sure she probably took someone else since it was a reservation for two.”

“So let me get this straight.” Shaun started to laugh, “You paid some random girl to go on your date with someone else?” He was doubled over in laughter by the end of his sentence.

You kicked his shin, “Hey, I was trying to do something nice for someone I stood up… but yeah it does seem like I probably just sent her on a date with someone else.” You started to laugh with him.

“You’re too nice for your own good sometimes.” He patted you on the shoulder. “How about this, after our shift, I’ll take you out for drinks and karaoke, my treat.”

“Well, that would make me feel better.” You grinned at him, leaving his side to help the new guest pulling up.

After the shift, the two of you took a bus to his apartment so he could change out of his uniform. You were going to stop at your house, which was between his apartment and the bar but when you got into his room, a deep blue sweater hanging in his closet pulled your attention to it. You walked into his closet and shut the mirror door over it. Pulling the sweater off the hanger, it was softer than you could ever imagine. You stripped of your uniform top and threw on the sweater. It was so comfortable and after a deep inhale, smelt exactly like Shaun. It was heavenly.

“(Y/N)?” Shaun called out to you, coming out of the bathroom after getting dressed himself. You stepped out of the closet, “Why are you wearing my sweater?” He laughed at your guilty expression as you slowly walked up to him.

“Well, it was just sitting there looking so comfy, I just wanted to try it on, but now that it’s on I’m afraid I’m never going to take it off. It’s too comfy.” You wrapped your arms around yourself, snuggling into the sweater even more.

“It looks good on you.” He smiled.

“It can be our sweater, how’s that sound?” You batted your eyelashes up at him as he threw his head back in laughter.

“Let’s go short stuff before I end up staying here and cuddling. Our sweater isvery cozy, so it’s very tempting.” Him saying he would rather stay home and cuddle with you, and him holding your hand as he pulled you out of his apartment caused you to blush. He let go of your hand to lock his door, turning to you, “Are you blushing?” He chuckled, grazing his fingers over your burning cheeks.

“No, it’s just getting a little warm in this sweater.” You rolled the sleeves up, letting your arms breathe, “There, that’s better.” You lied and turned away to the exit with determination. He just shook his head and chuckled.

You were a few shots deep into your bar night when you couldn’t help but stare at Shaun. ‘Has he always been this pretty?’ you thought to yourself.

“What are you staring at?” He laughed as he set your next drink down. You said nothing but answered him by putting your hand in his hair, “Your hair is so soft. Oh my gosh it’s softer than this sweater.”

“How many drinks have you had?” He burst out laughing, pulling your hand out of his hair and holding it on the table in his own.

“I haven’t had anything to drink.” You slurred as you take a sip of the fruity drink, he put in front of you.

“Mhmmm, and how many fingers am I holding up?” He held up 3 fingers on the hand not holding yours.

“3, now how many am I holding up.” You stuck up your middle finger and stuck your tongue out as he pretended to be hurt and gasped. “I have to pee.” You got up and stumbled your way to the bathroom. It was a pretty simple trip there and back, but when you got out you couldn’t remember where your table with Shaun was. So instead of going to the table you headed up to the stage and picked the first song that stood out to you, “Holding out for a Hero” by Bonnie Tyler. As the intro music was building up you spoke into the microphone, “This one goes out to that beautiful boy right there.” You pointed vaguely in Shaun’s direction and then burst out into song.

He laughed as he made his way up to the edge of the stage. He was mostly concerned that you’d fall off the stage and land right on your face, but he was really enjoying the performance that you’d likely forget tomorrow. When you finished your song, you held your hand out to meet Shaun’s stretched out one to help you off the stage.

“Oh my gosh, thanks for helping me down. That was like a 20-foot drop. You’re the hero I was holding out for!” You exclaimed as you threw your arms around his neck.

“It’s a stage maybe 3 inches off the ground, but I’ll take the credit I guess.” He pulled back from the hug and grabbed your hand, pulling you back to your seats.

“Oh no, I’m empty.” You pouted when you found nothing in your cup at the table.

“I’ll get us refills. Stay here.” He made his way up to the bar.

You pulled out your phone and opened your texts with Katy,

“OMG KATY THIS REALLY HOT GUY IS GETTING ME A DRINK AT THE BAR. I THINK I MIGHT GET LAID 2NIGHT! 🤪”

“I thought you were at the bar with Shaun?”

“Who’s Shaun?”

Shaun came back to your table and set down your glass.

“Well, hello handsome.” You wiggled your eyebrows at him, “Do you come here often?” You leaned your head on your hand, elbow on the table. You were as Katy would describe it to you, “heart-eyeing” him.

“Okay, I’m glad I grabbed you a water.” Shaun chuckled as he took his seat across from you.

His phone lit up with Katy’s contact picture. He answered it, plugging the opposite ear.

“Hello?”

“Hey, are you still with (Y/N)?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Who else are you guys with?”

“No one, why?” his question was met with silence, then a loud laugh from Katy.

“HA! No way, she totally texted me that a hot guy was getting her a drink and she was definitely getting laid tonight. When I asked her if she was still with you she said ‘Who’s Shaun’ and proceeded to stop texting me. She thinks your hot and that you guys are hooking up, this is going better than I thought it would when I called in.”

“Shut up, you’re messing with me.”

“Well, what is she doing right now?”

“She’s staring at me and sighing contently… OH MY GOD SHE DOESN’T KNOW WHO I AM!?” Shaun whisper-yelled into the phone.

“Well of course I know who you are silly! You’re the handsome man who’s sitting across from me and I’m the lucky gal who gets to look at you.” You giggled as you continued to stare at him with a sweet, but glazed over, look.

“Oh my god she’s so far gone.” Katy laughed on the other end.

“What do I do? Have you ever seen her this drunk?” Shaun was beginning to worry that you’d had way past your limit and you were about to get really sick.

“Oh yeah, definitely. All you have to do is bring her home and put her to bed. She’ll be fine, I’ve seen her drunker than this and not get sick.”

“Okay, should I make her coffee or something?”

“She’s allergic to coffee genius.” Katy rolled her eyes.

“Right, right. I knew that. Thanks Katy.” He hung up the phone and got up to grab your stuff.

“Hey where are you going?” You pouted as he walked up to the bar to pay the bill

“I’ll be right back, just wait here for me.” You nodded your head and waited patiently for him to come back.

“We’re going to go home now, alright?” Shaun pulled you out of your seat carefully helping you land on your feet. You nodded your head and yawned, stretching your arms over your head.

“Shaun, I’m too tired to walk.”

“Oh, now you remember who I am?” He chuckled, and you gave him a questioning look,

“Of course, I remember you, why wouldn’t I?”

“Well about 5 minutes ago you didn’t, I brought you a water and I guess it cleared your head enough. Come here.” He bent over enough for you to hop onto his back so he could give you a piggyback ride.

“My hero.” You mumbled into his back, closing your eyes as he started walking out of the building.

“Hey, (Y/N).” Shaun shook his shoulders to wake you up.

“Mhmm?” You moaned.

“Where are your keys?”

You sighed and climbed off his back, reaching into your purse, you handed the keys to him. He grabbed your hand and led you up to your porch, unlocking the front door and bringing you inside. He locked the door behind him and picked you up bridal style. Your head lolled into his chest as he carried you to your bedroom. He put you down on the bed, pulling the covers up and over you.

“Shaun…” You let your hand reach up to pull his arm back to you.

“What’s up?” He looked at you with concern.

“Can you help me take my pants off?” You laughed, and he blushed.

“Uh… yeah, sure.” Once he pulled back the covers, he realized why you asked. He hadn’t realized you were still in your dress pants from work. He went to unhook the buttons and slowly pulled them down your legs, tossing them into your hamper across the room. He pulled the covers back up to your chin and laughed as you happily took them and snuggled farther into the bed. He went to leave again but you stopped him yet again, “Shaun…”

“Yes?”

“Will you stay with me?”

“I was going to crash on the couch. I’ll be right outside, holler if you need something okay?”

“No… will you stay in here with me?” You opened your eyes for the first time since you got into your house. You gave him a puppy dog pout that made him melt.

“I can set up some couch cushions on the floor I guess…” he began looking around the floor to find a big enough space for him.

“No… Shaun… just come here.” You pulled him onto the bed and scooted over, pulling the covers over him. He hesitated for a second, body freezing, but when you snuggled your body into his side, he quickly melted under your touch. Not strong enough to fight off sleep any longer.

Shaun sighed as he woke up, he forgot to set his alarm last night. He probably was going to be late for work. He opened his eyes to see an unfamiliar bedding surrounding him. It then hit him that he was not alone. He was holding onto someone. Looking down, he saw your peaceful face resting into his chest. Your breath fanning over him, tickling him. ‘When did I take my shirt off?’ He thought as he quickly realized why it tickled. He looked under the covers slowly, trying not to wake you, ‘When did I take my pants off?!’ He questioned himself in alarm as he realized he was snuggled up to you in just underwear. He slowly leaned up on his elbow to look around them. Your pants and bra were thrown haphazardly towards your hamper and his shirt, pants, and socks laid at the end of the bed. He laid back on his side and looked down at his current position with you. He had his hand resting on your back underneath his sweater. Your legs tangled with his, and your hands cupping under your face that was cuddled up into his chest still. He couldn’t help the giant grin that plastered his face. He’s wanted to be with you like this for years. He’s wanted to be able to hold you close when he wakes up, to be able to kiss your forehead as you wake up, smiling up at him. He’s wanted to feel how soft your skin is, how gentle your lips rest against his skin. He’s got goose bumps all over his body as he realizes just how warm you are. He started rubbing circles on your back, trying to wake you up.

“Mhmm. That feels nice.” You smiled into his skin. You slowly opened your eyes and looked up at him, “See, isn’t this so much better than sleeping on the couch?”

“This is way better.” He kissed your hairline.

“I hope you know when I said this is our sweater, I meant I’m never giving it back.”

“You look better in it anyway.” He shrugged, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear, getting a good look at you, ‘Oh yeah, way better in it.’ He thought to himself as he blushed thinking about beautiful you were and how lucky he is right now in this moment.

Find more of my work here.

My work is exclusively posted on Tumblr by me, on this blog. If you see my work posted elsewhere, please reach out to me.

Thank you, xx.

[almatiarau]

Intertwined - chapter 1

Pairing: Idol!Jungkook x Fem. Reader

Genre: fluff, (eventual) smut, angst? Slice of life, age gap (reader is older than JK), Idol!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: None in this chapter

Word Count: 4.5k

Disclaimers: I don’t own BTS - they simply inspire me!

Summary: Jungkook is a superstar, y/n is a divorcee, two unlikeable worlds colliding with the love of music and just talking. But life is not a fairytale right? Does love worth a dream 10 years to build? Does love worth straining relationship with family?

A/N: Hi All, this is my first story ever here, and this is just my pure indulgence, so hopefully you can enjoy it and pardon me if there are many grammatical errors since English is not my first language. Thank you for reading and have fun!

chapter 1, chapter 2

JK POV

“How’s the lyrics doing Kook?” Namjoon flopped himself besides his donsaeng whose looking like scribbling something in his notebook.

“Ah hyung, still the same, feels like lacking something, the whole story feels like lacking something.”

“Go out Kook, meet with your friends, see the city lights, or the nature, whichever, or do something new.”

I heaved a sigh and took out my phone. Should I chat some friends? Should I watch new movies? Things have been pretty monotone these days. Especially since we have to cancelled our world tour due to the pandemic. I was quite lost for some times. We have been prepared so much and so long for the comeback, the album, then we were expecting to tour this summer. I love to tour. Don’t get me wrong, it can be very exhausted and will drain all my energy at the end of the day, but the excitement and exhilaration is beyond words. It was also one of the thing that made me sure I want to do this as a career, a lifepath, was the thrill and high I always get when I performed.

So the fact that all of that had to stop so abruptly was kind of confusing to me. While it was great to get a break after years of constant country hopping, get to spend more time with my family, get to finally be a son whose there for my mom and dad, but I’m just a performer at heart, I miss seeing the fans singing along to us, seeing them getting into their feet and just have a good time.

We were discussing to release a new song, or maybe an album, and since we might not be able to perform it in a live stage on tour for a while, we wanted to do something different, we wanted to write a story of our own. So here I am, still pondering what kind of story should I write. Unlike Yoongi hyung or Namjoon hyung, I like to write something that might not be from my own experience. I like to create a story.

“Kook, you might want to try watching interviews, documentaries or listening to radio stories, just to hear something new.” Namjoon hyung adds while he walked out of the studio.

I nodded to him. That might be an interesting idea. I don’t really like going out to crowded places anyway.

 Y/N POV

 “Hi guys, I hope you are having a chill night tonight, lets hear your thoughts, your concerns, send ‘em in to me right away, let’s discuss, let’s brainstorm and just chill while vibing to some great song, I’m Y/N and you’re listening to Heal and Chill on K-FM”

Everytime by Ariana Grande comes to play after I clicked the play button. I took my tumbler and took a sip, then stretched out my hands on my back to relax some muscles. It was surprisingly full house at the café this afternoon, I had barely time to change to go here to my second job of the day. Well, this one might not feel like a job for me. I actually love doing this. People had told me all my life that I’m a good listener and gives great advices. That actually I should be a psychologist. Well ain’t life never that easy ain’t it? Life did not give me time for youth. It was my second year of college when my dad passed away and I had to drop out to help my mom and younger brother to survive. I had to make sure my brother could go to college, well because he’s a man, he will need to have proper degree for proper job to make sure he can feed his little family later on. And me? Well since I’m a girl, with no degree I can try to find a husband who will take care of me, right?

And that’s what I did. After my brother got into his latest year in college, I married my then boyfriend. He’s nice, loving, family man who has a stable job. Isn’t that enough? Well I thought so, until we got into our 5th year of marriage, with a little girl of 2 years old, I felt numb. We were disconnected in so many ways that we couldn’t even find any conversation besides our kid or the house chores. The split was amicable, we got to split equal times with our daughter, Ae Ra. My argumentation being we deserve to live a fulfilling life, an excited life cause we only got one lifeline.

But it was two years ago. What are we calling an exciting life? Is it a two job single mom divorcee?

I held back a chuckle when the on air neon box came light up. “That was Ariana Grande’s Everytime, hope to get you in the chill mood everyone. Grab yourself a hot drink, bundle up in your blankies and let’s read some emails shall we?”

 JK POV

 I was about to connect my Bluetooth to the car audio system when I remembered what Namjoon hyung said earlier. Let’s try to hear some radio tonight. It’s been awhile since I listen to one while driving.

Ariana Grande’s song caught my attention when I’m searching the station. I’ve always liked her songs. I checked the rear view mirror one more time, before putting the gear on D and drove out of the basement parking lot.

“Hmm this one is interesting, from someone who does not want me to say their name. Hi Y/N, I’ve just graduated from college, I really wanted to start my own business but my parents are retiree and I think they are expecting me to help them for their daily needs. I am an only child, and my parents had paid for my Business School tuition in the hope that I could find a good job with good salary. What should I do? I feel like youngsters nowadays are more into chasing our dreams instead of working in corporate world.”

I heard the broadcaster heaved a deep sigh, a sympathetic one. This might be interesting, this kind of show.

“I feel you dear, I do think it is admirable for young people right now having the courage to chase their dream, I also feel like many job opportunities especially in creative areas are available right now, that a good job doesn’t always necessarily a 9 to 5 kind”

I smiled silently. Aren’t I one of that lucky ones, to get to pursue music as a career, and if I may say, a successful one.

“And I know to do business you need many sources, not only financially, but experience, and everything, and it might not be the fastest way for you to earn. I think your dilemma here is faced by many also.”

The broadcaster chuckled a bit. Hmm, she does have this smooth and warm vocals, no wonder she became a broadcaster.

“Unfortunately as your big sister here, I have to say, let’s help your parents first. I’m not saying you should just bury your dream, oh no honey, a dream is worth chasing for, however we’re living in real life aren’t we? I hate to say that your dream might not be able to pay for your gas next month, maybe not right now.”

I nodded without even realizing it. She really gives the hard truth isn’t she? At the same time I feel very fortunate to be able to pursue my dream from very young age, with parents whose very supportive. Oh, that reminds me, I need to call my mom later, haha.

“Let’s find a good paying job right now, save up some money, while you can also support your parents, and this is where the hard part begins, you need to double the work, work on your desk job while also research for your business, find out and learn as much as you can, then maybe a few years down, after you saved up, then your dream can finally begin.”

Then La La Lost You by Niki starting to play. Oh I love this song also, especially this acoustic version. Nice, a good segment show plus good songs so far. The traffic light had just turned to green, I step on the gas and make my way home.

I was just joking around with Jimin hyung, when our manager came into our lounge with some coffees.

“Guys, there’s a new schedule for tomorrow, we will be having an interview with K-FM from 1PM to 2PM.” Manager Jae said as he put down the coffee cups on the table.

“Ndeee~” we all responded in unison.

“Kook, aren’t you been listening to K-FM lately?” Namjoon asked me while sipping his coffee.

“Yeah the past 2 weeks I’ve been listening to one of their segment, Heal and Chill I guess was the name.”

“Was it the one you said people share their stories and the broadcaster giving advice?” Taehyung asked joining me and Namjoon hyung on the sofa.

“Yup. It was fascinating hearing all kinds of stories, sometimes it’s about love, or parents, or just life basically. And I really like their song playlist, really vibing with mine.”

“It’s been awhile for me also listening to radio shows, I mean, sometimes I don’t realize that I’ve almost always connecting my playlist to the car’s audio.” Tae added.

“Me too.” I said. “That’s why I just realized how I enjoyed hearing this segment, it’s like reading a book without actually reading it.”

“You can try audio book, Kook.” Yoongi shouted from his desk across the room.

“He’ll be asleep from the first paragraph.” Jimin teased while others joining him for a laugh.

 Y/N POV

 “Okay so that’s the schedule for next month, if you wanted to switch or anything, please arrange by yourself, just make sure there’s someone who back you up okay? And let me know too. Thank you guys!”

I then pinned the schedule paper on the board and went to the small back room that is supposed to be my office. This is my day job, a small café manager. Well I’m sad to say that broadcasting paycheck is not enough for me to cover our expense every month.

Since splitting up, I moved back into my parent’s house, because I need someone to watch over Ae Ra while I’m working. Since my brother had moved out and live in his own house with his wife and kids, my mom is living by herself, so it’s a win-win for us both. We get to accompany her everyday, and she watches over Ae Ra for me, for 4 days a week, while the rest 3 days, my ex will take her to his family house.

“So are we drinking out tonight or not?” My co-worker and also closest friend, Hana, leaned on my doorframe while crossing her arms. “Come on you’re not broadcasting tonight right? My girl needs to get out!”

I chuckled at her. “Aren’t I too old for going out drinking? You’re 25, Hana, I’m just an old lady with aching joints.” I pretended to massage my shoulders in pain.

“Since when 31 is old? I think you’re getting into your big sister character too much and forgetting that young MILF inside.”

We both bursted into laughter.

“2 years ago you said you wanted a fulfilling life, an exciting one, that’s why you split up with Seo Jun.” Hana sits herself on the chair in front of me. “been asking you to finally LIVE your life, but you’ve been choosing this dull nowhere life since, so what’s the difference?”

I sighed. “I thought so too, but now I’m thinking about Ae Ra. Does a mother allowed to have that kind of fun?”

Hana rolled her eyes at me. “Happy mom happy kids aren’t I right?”

 JK POV

 The interview ended in a breeze. We were having fun as always. Its been hard not being able to see our fans in person, therefore this kind of interview, appearances, becoming some kind of remedy, I think for both ways. I know our fans will love getting to see more of our personality, while we’re also happy doing it as a re-connection to them.

I was just walking down the hall to get into the elevator, when a poster caught my attention. It’s the promotion material for Heal and Chill with Seo Y/N. It’s the first time I finally see the broadcaster’s face, while I’ve been hearing her voice. She’s pretty. While I must say not the strikingly pretty kind, but I can see the attractive features. And as I have thought, her smile is warm, inviting almost. Honestly, I have been very curious with her personality, because I do think her replies and advices for the stories that had came in resonates with me.

She was truthful, straight to the point with no bullshit, but still hopeful. And I had been liking her choices of songs also. This really drew me in as I can’t imagine my life without music everyday. Hell I even installed a speaker in my bathroom just to be able to listen to music while showering.

Manager Jae saw me stopping in front of the poster and slowed down his walk. “Something wrong Kook?”

“Nope, I’ve just been listening to this show for a while.” I said gesturing my hand to the poster.

“Ah I see.” He looked at the poster also.

“Jae hyung nim, is it possible for me to get her number?” I just blurted out. I don’t know what for exactly. I thought maybe I can discuss something with her, for the song I’ve been trying to write. This is so random but I really want to have a talk with her.

Manager Jae furrowed his brows. “Hmm, I can ask around, I’ll let you know.”

I gave him an ok gesture with my fingers and started to chase other members who are waiting for the elevator.

 Y/N POV

 “I’ve been feeling romantic and sappy these days guys, maybe I’m getting my period soon.” I started laughing at myself. “Ok, that might be TMI, but let’s get to some love life trouble stories kay?”

I have browsed over some of the emails with love life topic and picked this one up.

“Hi Y/N, I’ve been having arguments with my girlfriend lately. I don’t understand what is the problem, feels like she’s nit-picking on every other things just to argue with me. I have tried to apologize even though honestly I don’t know what for. I always do whatever she asked me to do, I’ve never got into any trouble, my life has just been revolved around her and my job, and my family. Please give me your big sister advice.”

I took a deep breath and quickly re-read the email, just to make sure I understand correctly.

“Okay honey, first of all, hats off to you being this devoted to her, my ladies out there, aren’t we loving this kind of man?”

“It might be true that it’s not your fault at all. But, here’s a food of thought, it’s actually something I came up with just by observing, I think you guys need to be able to create your own drama, a drama you can control with your ladies.”

I paused. “What drama do you mean? Well the way I see living as a girl, we love drama right ladies? We love watching them on TV, movies, therefore I think women themselves are drawn towards drama in life.”

“I’m not saying bad guys are better than good guys, of course they’re not. But there is a certain charisma, a certain adrenaline pull, that a girl wanted to be satisfied with. Therefore I say to all my good guys out there, create a drama once in a while. Don’t be so obedient, following whatever she wants and demands, especially if her demands are insane.” I chuckled lightly.

“And have that light argument once in a while, so that your ladies gets that adrenaline rush, that friction she craves once in a while, because if you don’t control it, then she will be the one who creates it and that’s hard because you won’t be able to control it, it might spin so hard and finally out of control. What do you think about that guys? Let me know your comment and tweet me @K-FM with hashtag #healandchill.”

I clicked the play button and You by Regard, Troye Sivan and Tate McRae started playing.

JK POV

 I’m listening to Heal and Chill again while making a snack. I’m craving for some gyeranmari with cheese, so I’m whisking some eggs when this topic really caught my attention.

 “I’m not saying bad guys are better than good guys, of course they’re not. But there is a certain charisma, a certain adrenaline pull, that a girl wanted to be satisfied with. Therefore I say to all my good guys out there, create a drama once in a while. Don’t be so obedient, following whatever she wants and demands, especially if her demands are insane.” I chuckled lightly.

 “And have that light argument once in a while, so that your ladies gets that adrenaline rush, that friction she craves once in a while, because if you don’t control it, then she will be the one who creates it and that’s hard because you won’t be able to control it, it might spin so hard and finally out of control. What do you think about that guys? Let me know your comment and tweet me @K-FM with hashtag #healandchill.”

 I listened intently. That was interesting. A pov from woman that I haven’t heard before. So she suggested us, guys, to create a drama once in a while with our partner because women actually craves for some frictions?

This is some point of view that made me think I wanted to have some discussion with her. I put my egg bowl on the kitchen counter top and took my phone. Earlier that day, manager Jae managed to get me Seo Y/N’s number and sent it to me.

Before thinking too much, I started typing…

“Hi Seo Y/N, this is Jungkook, I have been listening to your show for some times now, and I must say I really enjoy them. If you have time, can we have a talk over coffee? I’m trying to write a song and I think a discussion with you may help me out.”

Sent.

Not long after a new message appeared.

“Hi there, sorry I have been receiving these kind of prank messages for a while now, I don’t think THE Jeon Jungkook (if you are the correct Jungkook I was thinking about) will listen to my show, let alone send me a message. So bye.”

I furrowed my eyebrows. What the hell? I typed a reply as fast as I can.

“Seo Y/N, I AM Jeon Jungkook, I got your number from your producer, let’s meet up then so you’ll believe me.” Sent.

“Uhm, that will be scary to meet someone I don’t know. Bye.”

I typed again more furiously. “Let’s meet up on daylight in a public space if you are that concern.” I clicked send but a reply came again. “Your number had been blocked by this number.”

I put my phone on the counter and bit my bottom lip in frustration. Maybe I did being creepy just reaching out to her out of the blue. I heaved a deep breath. Should I just let this go? I looked at the clock on the wall, it’s 11.30PM, the show will be over in half an hour. Without thinking too much I grabbed my keys and jacket and head outside.

JK POV

 I put on a mask and pull the jacket’s hoodie over my head. I got out of my car that I parked in the basement and went into the building. Heading into the main lobby, there’s no one there as it is approaching midnight. However there is a security guard standing by the receptionist desk.

“Good evening, Sir. May I help you with something?” The guard stood up in front of me, blocking my way to go further into the building.

I slide down my mask a little bit. “Hi Sir, it’s me Jungkook, I was having an interview this afternoon here, I think I left a bracelet in the studio, is it possible for me to get them?”

The guard was a little bit surprised seeing who I was. He looked around, seeming hesitant a bit. He then looked back at me, a little bit scanning me from head to toe.

“Okay Sir, do you know which studio you were leaving it behind?”

“I think it’s the one they’re using for Heal and Chill tonight.”

“Ah, studio 3 on the third floor, okay Sir, please don’t take too long.” He moved back towards the receptionist desk.

I gave him a smile and walked into the elevator.

 Y/N POV

 “That’s all for tonight guys, I hope you had a good time because I sure did! Please send me your concerns, issues, to our usual email and let’s discuss it together on air next time. For the last song from me, this is Keshi with Like I need you, goodnight everyone!”

I clicked play and took off my headphone. I nodded my head to my producer who gave me a thumbs up from across the glass studio. I glanced back on my phone on the table. What a weird night. I had been receiving some prank messages, but never gave a thought of it. This one however is on a whole another level. Someone really pretended to be Jungkook from Bangtan. I smiled weakly and shook my head. That’s when I heard a knock on the studio’s glass. I looked up and my eyes went wide.

He slide down his mask and took off his jacket’s hoodie. Jeon Jungkook?? He smirked mischievously. Am I hallucinating right now? Maybe I was so tired as the café was more crowded than usual this afternoon. But when I saw my producer’s puzzled face, I realized that he really is standing there. He gave me a gesture of come out with his hand.

I opened the studio door and come out hesitantly. He stood there with hands in his jeans’ pocket. To say this man is handsome is an understatement, I guess. His hair is jet black, a little bit in longer side, his bangs covering his eyes a little. He’s wearing a black jacket hoodie, ripped denim jeans and just a pair of sneakers. It’s just casual attire but his built up body made it look even better. I had to reminded myself to blink.

“Seo Y/N right? You blocked my number, so I have no other choice.” His smirk lingered.

I tried to find my caught up voice. “Sorry, it’s just I’ve been receiving many prank messages. I never thought you really listened to my show.” I tried to smile nervously.

“It’s okay, so you can unblock me now right?”

I nodded. It was an awkward silence for a while. I really don’t know what to say.

“So, are you going home right now? The show’s over right?” Jungkook asked casually.

“Yep..” I glanced at my watch and saw it’s already 12.15AM. I have to hurry now to catch the last bus.

“I have to hurry now, last bus is on 12.30AM, maybe tomorrow we can discuss on the talk?” I glanced around to spot my bag.

Jungkook saw me looking at the bag on the sofa behind him. He took it and handed it to me.

“You’re taking the bus at this hour?”

I nodded.

“Can I drive you home? I mean, it’s already late.”

I looked up to him, didn’t know how to react. I just met him 5 minutes ago, even though he’s a well-known celeb, I don’t know his personality or anything about him.

He chuckled a bit seeing me being hesitant. “Don’t mean to brag but I will not do anything weird, I have a reputation to uphold.” He started to walked towards the door and looked back at me. “Come on.”

I followed him out and we walked to the elevator. “I’m curious.” I said.

Jungkook only replied with a hmmm and looked at me at his side. Wow he is kinda tall. The top of my head only reached just under his shoulder. He smelled nice too. The kind of scent you whiffed from spa place, with more masculine vibe.

“Why do you want to discuss things with me?”

The elevator opened and we walked inside. Jungkook pressed the basement floor.

“Well, I’ve been listening to your show for a while now, and I like your point of view on things. Plus I like your playlist a lot, quite similar with mine.” He answered casually.

Before I could mutter a reply, we have reached the basement floor and I followed him to his car. It’s a matte black Mercedes which light up when he clicked his keys. He opened the passenger door to me and closed the door carefully after I got in.

He started off the engine, connected his Bluetooth and started off his playlist. Chase Atlantic’s Drugs & Money started off playing, I smiled and closed my eyes momentarily feeling the intro. Jungkook glanced at me when he put the gear into Drive. “You like this?”

I started humming with the song, when the chorus came, I sang it in tiny and saw him smiling with his eyes on the road.

Jungkook saw his GPS when the traffic light came into red. “Hmm, your house is not that far away.”

“Yup, that’s why I feel okay taking the bus.”

“Still it’s a little bit dangerous don’t you think? Especially from you whose very concern with pranksters.” He teased.

I put my hands over my face in embarrassment. “So sorry for that.”

Jungkook chuckled. “Nah, it’s okay.”

10 minutes later we arrived in front of my old house. I unbuckled my seatbelt and Jungkook had gone out to open my door from outside. He’s wearing his mask and hoodie again.

“Don’t forget to unblock me, okay.”

I looked up to him and nodded. “Thanks for the ride, please drive home safely.”

He winked at me and got into his car again. I waited for him to drive away but his car did not move. I looked to him curiously from outside the tinted car window. He then rolled down his window. “I’m waiting for you to go inside, make sure no pranksters are walking by.”

I couldn’t hold back a little laugh and waived at him before going inside the house. Closing the front door I finally saw his car drove away. In the mix of exhaustion after a long day and a shock because Jeon Jungkook had just dropped me off I felt my head spinning and decided to quickly showered and just go to bed.

This is my first ever fic in tumblr, hopefully you guys enjoy it! thank you so much for reading!! Please leave comments or feedbacks if you’d like, I will really appreciate it!

[erensproudsimp]

One Night Stand

Gojo Satoru x reader

�� Sexual Content Ahead ⚠

Summary : Working as a stripper, it was your job to please men for your daily bread until the day you met a handsome man offering to give you a ride back home, naughty things happening along the way.

Word count : 2.4 k

Looking at yourself in the mirror in the changing room all decked up in your glittery lingerie, ready to put on a show for disgusting men. Painting your lips a bright red, you smacked them together to spread the colour. Being a stripper sure brought a lot of money in which made you so happy but the fact that you had to please men for it didn't sit right in you. Taking a deep breath, you exited the room, your five inch heels clacking the surface with your each step. Gesturing your colleagues a 'hi' by waving your hand, you entered the area where the clientele would be.

Electronic music echoing around the entire room, gracefully you walked to your respective pole with the other stripers going to theirs. Prepping yourself up and warming up a little, you made sure you were perfect to earn more money. Led lights falling on your being as you were made among the centres of attraction for people to feed their eyes on your show. Placing your manicured hand on the cold pole, the other on your hip, you waited for people to enter the club so that you could start dancing. Your golden lingerie really brought out your curves and your sex appeal. Sparkling under the stage light, feeling like the bad bitch you are, you could bet your ass that money would be flying like nothing in your pockets.

Once people started entering the club, you started your performance to attract them to you. Gliding your heels on the floor, you split your legs, synchronizing your movements to the beat of the song currently being played, your sensuality bursting into the most vibrant dance. Your legs extended like a primal ballerina as you stood up, brushing your hair off your face before dragging it down your chest to finally grab your pole.

For the most part, you felt as though the front people were your main audience unaware of two bright blue eyes analyzing your every move. As you turned your body, your eyes caught caught a man sitting not far away in the back, him less adept at hiding his gaze than you. He had the kind of face that made you stop in your tracks. One glance at him was enough to make you fall on your knees for him. He dropped his eyes momentarily before looking away, his head tilted on one side supported by his arm placed on the couch, a hopeful smile playing on his lips as he pushed his dark glasses back.

Ignoring him, of course, you continued dancing making old men's pocket hurt. At some point, you became bored with staying on the stage and got off to approach your clients closer. Catwalking nearer to the man who caught your attention, you halted to the couch beside him where a blond man wearing glasses was drinking what seemed to be a glass of whiskey. Licking your lower lip, bending down to drag your index finger on his cheeks, you saw in the corner of your eye, the white haired man staring at you with a frown. More money thrown you, you sat on the man still sneaking peaks at your main interest for the night to see if your actions were affecting him.

Not so long later, you got bored of the blond guy, blowing a kiss at him, you finally went over to your target. Oh lord, to say he was just handsome was an understatement of his true attractiveness. He was beyond gorgeous, having the beauty equivalence of probably a god, he was radiating so much power. Dressed in a tight white shirt half buttoned, his abbs see through, with black pants, he laid on the furniture with crossed arms. However, upon seeing you approaching him, he opened them, placing them on the couch beside his shoulders.

Sitting next to him, you inclined yourself towards him, your hand on his thigh.

"Enjoying this night?"

"Now that you're close to me I sure am enjoying it more," he flirted.

"Oh really, is there any other thing I can do to make your night even better handsome?" you cooed in his ear.

"Hoooo? you'd do anything?"

"A n y t h i n g."

"Well then if you're insisting, please yourself on me, that would make me happy", he smugged.

Something about him was so alluring, from his appearance to his melodious voice, it made you want to know how his lips move in a kiss, how his hands move around your curves.

"As you wish dear sir."

Wasting no time, you hopped on his lap, your legs spread on his each side. Your hands resting on his shoulder playing with his hair from the back, you gazed into his eyes, his glasses falling his nose bridge. Irises so blue, as though containing all the blues of the sky to the ocean spanning the galaxy. Hell, they might even be the definition of a black hole due to their insane gravitational pull though which anyone could be sucked into.

Straddling his thighs, you rocked your hips back and forth, you grinded on him.

Just swaying to the music in the background, you traced his jawline with your tongue. Not even once did the man touch you as he just watched you do whatever you wanted. His smirk was like liquid adrenaline was being injected into your blood stream making your body tingle.

"Look at you, ignoring your work to grind on me, what a dirty slut you are", whispering in your ear he grabbed your hips to lift you and turn you so that your ass was right on his growing bulge.

Raising yourself up and down, you bounced on him. Intoxicated by the alcohol and cigarettes in the air, your vision blurry, hands moving down your boobs to your waist. Twerking on him, you felt him growing bigger. You bent back, your head placed on his shoulder, giving him a subtle smile. His hot breath fanned on your face, he smelt like booze with a faint vanilla. Cupping your breasts with his big hands, you slapped them away as you stood up to sit next to him. Kissing his cheek with your one hand on his other side of his face, you felt something entering your bra; the man was stuffing a bundle of money in.

Wingling your fingers, you waved him bye as you were going in the changing room to freshen up yourself. That was a lot of money he gave you, you thought while counting but there was one odd thing in it.

There was his business card in it. There was his phone number in it. Was this his way of telling you to contact him?

Shrugging your thoughts off, you typed him a message.

You : Hey handsome, so what's up with the business card?

Him: When does your shift ends?

You: Midnight.

Him: Great. You'll see a white limousine outside. Wanna come in for a ride at home?

A gorgeous man offering to give you a lift? Damn you couldn't miss this opportunity.

You: Sure thing, see you later.

After fixing your makeup and adjusting your clothes, you went out to slay the night until your little date. You couldn't wait until then.

When your shift was finally over, you rushed to change into your black mini satin dress you wore coming to work as well as ensuring you looked charming.

Your black handbag over your shoulder, you went outside, the fresh air of the cold night hitting your face. Lungs feeling so fresh, you were excited to see him again.

Indeed there was a white limousine parked at the entrance of the club. Upon seeing you arrive, the man asked the driver to unlock the doors so as to let you inside.

"Thank you so much for this offer, Mr?

" Oh please, name's Gojo Satoru but you can just call me Gojo", he said loosening his tie to remove it. Goodness, that was hotter than the core of the earth mixed with the sun's heat.

"Sure thing, Gojo~", seductively you said while you took a place on a seat beside him.

"Care for some wine?" he demanded while pouring a glass.

"Why not?"

"So, where do you live?" Gojo asked handing you the glass.

After telling him your address, he signaled the driver who understood the message and pulled up the black windshield to leave both of you in private.

The bitter yet sweet liquid warmed your body making you feel more relaxed after a long work. Throwing your head back, you let the wine disperse in all your veins, Gojo watching you while drinking his.

"I loved your lapdance, it was so erotic and you looked so...hot," he complimented scooching closer to you.

Tucking your hair behind your ear, he removed his glasses to place on the counter nearby. He stroke a finger down your throat, making you shiver. Holy shit that felt good.

"Not going to lie but you caught my attention the moment I saw you dancing on the stage. That golden lingerie hugging your perfect curves was enough to make me drool for you", whispering in your ear while his hand was sliding the strap of your dress off your shoulder.

More shivers down your spine.

Leaning in his touch, your hands reached to unbutton his shirt. Lips on your neck. Hot. Sinful. Goosebumps rose up your flesh. Gojo's shirt was on the floor, his chest threatening to make you swoon. It was so hard not to stare at the most beautiful male body you've ever seen.

"Love what you're seeing?" his voice came out husky.

"Very much", you replied before colliding your lips with his.

Big, warm hands stroke up your torso to cup your breasts. You jerked at the bold move, moaned in his mouth.

Feeling his smirk, he pulled back trailing his tongue down your neck to your collarbone before drawing back. As you straightened your back, his hands unzipping your dress.

His eyes went big when he saw that you weren't wearing a bra. His gaze caressed your plump boobs. Wasting no more seconds, he attacked the area with his mouth making you yelp.

"Fuck's sake, you're so gorgeous", he complimented in between sucking your nipple.

Your stomach clenched. Never had you craved a man with such hunger, never had you been more aware of your own femininity so much.

Pulling away, Gojo turned to take something from the table counter behind him. Taking this moment to take a deep breath to calm your quick heartbeats, you removed your hair from your face. Curious to know what he was doing, you tried to sneak a peak until he turned around to face you, in his hand, an orange slice.

Your head was filled with questions.

"Open your mouth", he ordered and you obeyed, of course.

"stick your tongue out."

Doing as he asked, you took it out as he pressed the fruit on it making its juices spreading throughout your mouth, even spilling down your jaw to your neck. The citric acid running down your skin so slowly as Gojo trailed his tongue down chasing all the droplets, his other hand holding your head by your hair.

"Hmmmm"

"You really like me licking you huh?" Gojo smirked.

"Ooooooohhh"

Unbuckling his pants, he slid them down leaving him in his boxers, his hardened dick pressed, like you were in your soaked panties. Unable to resist the temptation, you pulled them down releasing it from its trap. His dick sprung free, Gojo could no longer contain the heat he felt inside of him to bury himself deep in you.

"You don't mind, do you?" he asked before taking off your underwear.

"Why would I after how wet I am for you?"

Loving your answer the man tore the cloth from you revealing your soft folds to him.

"I hope you can handle me, I'm not going to go easy on you~", Gojo warned teasingly placing his member at your entrance.

"Go ahead, let's see if you can wreck me because I'm pretty sure I can handle you", you sneered.

"Heh~ well, we'll see about that in a few", he said before thrusting into you without any warnings.

"Ah!"

Throwing your one leg on his shoulder to gain a better position to fuck you, Gojo was not slow into gaining speed. This man was like an animal, so violently pushing and pulling in and out of you.

Your moans and heavy breaths was so loud, you were sure that the driver was hearing everything but Gojo didn't care about it one single bit. All that mattered to him at that moment was to fuck you into oblivion.

Right before either of you could come, Gojo pulled out to turn your body on the car couch, your boobs pressed against the leather, your ass lifted up as Gojo inserted himself again in you. This time you couldn't help it but let out whimpers.

"What's with the whimpers? I thought you could handle it, didn't you say so?" he ridiculed you.

Lost in a haze, you could barely hear his words, only feel his thrusts deep in you. He didn't seem to be stopping any time soon.

He grabbed your hand and pressed it against your stomach.

"Can you feel how deep I am into you right now? You like it don't you? Being fucked like the shameless whore you are?"

"Ahhh-yes I do, I do."

Feeling your climax getting closer and closer, you gripped the couch for dear life as you were going crazy with this insane anount of pleasure.

"Ah- Gojo-I-I'm-"

"It's okay my love, you can release it, I'm close too."

It wasn't long before you were screaming his name as he filled your insides with his hot fluid. Pulling your hair as he did so, he collapsed on the couch beside with you laying on top of him rubbing circles on his chest.

Remembering that you had to get off to go home, you took your clothes from the floor and wore them while Gojo was admiring you.

You wished that this could last forever but alas it was just a one night stand as Gojo left you at your home saying a final goodbye to never meet again.

End.

Thank you for reading this. :)

[painless-innit-colourful]

Hi everyone, it's Crim, back again with our Eurovision commentary for the night. Coming at you from: one Eurovision superfan, one dance teacher, one former professional dancer, and the dog we scared every time we screamed. Here we go!

Czech Republic: She's really changing it up, huh.

Romania: We spent two and a half minutes talking about sexualsation in dance and that man's ruffled shirt.

Portugal: That was very beautiful.

Finland: The musical equivalent of The Smiler ride at Alton Towers. Director of Cinematography really said "YES WE CAN DO THAT FOR YOU."

Switzerland: We thought that resembled a charity advert song. Also, why are all the costumes too big.

France: And we are summoning something in this Eurovision tonight. My aunt just let out an unholy scream. I'm slightly scared for her.

Norway: That felt like a fever dream. We're all reeling from the lyrical genius of "Before that wolf eats your grandma, someone give that wolf a banana."

Armenia: Graham Norton made a remark about this one being the reason the UK had no toilet paper early in the pandemic, and it killed us for the whole song. Can we vote for the tech team to win.

Italy: Good *heavens* that was awful. We will discuss it no further. Was nice to hear the crowd singing though.

Spain: Well that was phenomenal. What a singer, what a dancer, she rocked it! Best choreography and staging of the night so far.

Netherlands: Is it just me or are pop songs getting more predictable.

Ukraine: A true Eurovision banger. None of those people looked like they were dancing to the same song, but man did they dance dance. I expect pink woolen bucket hats to be the trend by Monday. (We also really want to know what they're singing about.)

Germany: No wonder they had to go to the presenters for that change-over: they had to get the carpets on. The German Eminem.

Lithuania: As my aunt said, "Jessica Rabbit meets Liza Minelli. [...] She should audition for the [candlestick] in Beauty and the Beast. [...] Bit of Twiggy as well." This woman has turned both my aunt and my mom gay. She is my favourite so far. Who is she. I am very gay.

Azerbaijan: That wasn't a dance, that was pilates/a battle between a man and his rogue, evil doppelganger. Nice voice.

Belgium: Ehhhhhhh (I was out getting brownies. Why are they putting all the ballads together.) Why does no one's shoes match the rest of their outfits tonight. Why is there always a Bond Theme-ish one.

Greece: Goodness that was beautiful. The staging was cool, but just the song on it's own. A memorable ballad, and that's not something I'd say often.

Iceland: Thank goodness the ballads are over.

Moldova: Beastie Boys with 80% more acordian. Moldova is 30 years behind the rest of Europe and I ran out of words to describe that one mid-performance.

Sweden: No shoes this time. Costume department is having an evening. My aunt made a comment about how hard you would have to slam your head on the floor to change the lights and I lost it.

Special Mention to the Presenter Moment Where One of the Norweigan Wolves Attempted to Kidnap Mika.

Australia: Eh. It's no ice queen on an oscillating stick.

UK: WE MIGHT ACTUALLY STAND A CHANCE HOLY SH!!!!! THAT WAS REALLY GOOD I FORGOT I WAS WATCHING THE UK ENTRY!! That was such a jam - rock, ballad, good staging, great costume, great singing!!

Special Mention to Mika Getting Lost, Saying Romania was Spain and Misreading His Autocue, Announcing Holland to be Next.

Poland: Current theory on the couch is that the costume department this year only has five pairs of shoes and keeps needing to run them between acts. While are they all so big. Why was that so wet.

Serbia: That was. A lot of things. It felt like a cross between a bad GCSE Drama devised piece, a dystopian hygiene advert, and whatever they meant by "God has abandoned us" or whatever it was.

Estonia: A fun bop to conclude. Funky little hop down across the stage.

[rainbowsky]

Episode 5 of SDOC4 and Episode 4 of Let's Chat (Complete With Recipe)

Finally caught up and I have to say these are some of my favorite episodes so far. (Spoilers under the cut).

SDOC4 Episode 5

I REALLY enjoyed the choreography battles. I wasn’t quite sure what to expect given that some groups ended up with songs that were far outside their normal style, but everyone made it work so well. I am blown away.

AC vs GoGo Brothers

I was disappointed that AC’s team didn’t win their battle. I admit it might partly be my bias speaking, but I felt their performance was exquisite, creative and unique. They had a beautiful concept that was well executed. There were more ‘wow’ moments in their routine, and they were up against a much greater challenge with the music they had. I feel they really knocked it out of the park.

Team GoGo Brothers did an excellent job, undeniably. They’re all incredibly skilled and everything flowed together nicely, but I felt like I didn’t see anything that I hadn’t seen before. It was great that they were really tight and performed well together, but I wasn’t surprised by anything they did - I didn’t have any moment of holding my breath or feeling inspired. A bunch of strong dancers dancing in sync to a funky song. It was good. They did well.

Regardless of who had the better performance, it really broke my heart to see a krumper go home so early in the show, when I feel like we have 50 ‘funky lockers’. A real shame.

David vs Liang Liang

David’s group’s performance really touched me. The choreography stirred up images and feelings of youth and friendship. So well done. I was completely stunned. Even though I couldn't understand the lyrics, I felt the performance told the story of friendship in a very moving way. Great dance performances transcend words, and this is a perfect example of that.

Every aspect of their work contributed to the story/atmosphere in some way, right down to the color palette they chose for their costumes and the styles they chose to wear. I loved the fusion of contemporary and hip hop elements. Exceptionally well done.

I was sad that we didn't get to see the performance from Liang Liang's group, but I am grateful that production was respectful in deciding not to show a performance that had fallen apart.

I can't understand why he didn't just remove and toss the hoop from his head the second he realized it was interfering with his performance. Although it seems that wasn't the only reason their performance suffered.

Nelson vs Acky

Nelson’s team - what to say? They were incredible. Their choreography, the flow they had, the costumes, the creativity - I was stunned by what they came up with. My jaw had to be retrieved from the floor. These artists together are a formidable force. What a dream team. Wow.

Almost every moment of this routine was a 'wow' moment, and they incorporated so many innovative, original elements that I (and the judges) hadn't really seen before. I admit, I felt dismayed when they didn't win.

Acky's team was excellent, and I loved what they did conceptually, and they brought in some exciting elements and moments along the way (that levitation bit was incredible). I love the 'family' atmosphere Acky's team brought to the stage, and their performance was energetic and uplifting.

It can't be denied that the story they told touched the heart and was probably a big part of what the audience was responding to. The extra effort Acky took with the red envelopes for the judges was also a nice touch.

Plus who doesn't absolutely LOVE Acky? Could such a person be said to have a soul? And can I just say, that man can move!!

I really loved the looks as well. Whoever styled their costumes did a great job. Very colorful and lively and fresh. It added a lot to the overall atmosphere of the performance.

Still, seeing Klash go home so soon was 💀💀💀.

Yang Kai vs Ibuki

Wow. They both did such a great job of their performances. The concepts were both very engaging and told stories I found interesting and entertaining. Tough call for the judges, but they chose the performance I would have chosen.

Getting to Know Each Other

I especially enjoyed watching the various ways the team leaders worked to bring their teams together and get to know each other. The chalkboard drawings, the meals shared, the heartfelt and very touching letters from Acky, the shared stories... I loved this aspect of the show so much.

Final Cypher

Nelson dominated completely, throughout the entire battle. He was hard to catch, but AC really left it all on the floor. I think the end result was fair and reflected my own thoughts on how well they all did.

Team Building

This is always a fun part of the show. It's interesting to see who the coaches choose, who the dancers choose, etc. I am looking forward to seeing how it all works out.

AC and Ibuki on the same team, Nelson and Bouboo on the same team - I can't wait to see the performances that come out of that.

So far, just based on the initial four choices, I think DD and Han Geng have the strongest teams.

Han Geng giving DD Nelson was a total🥺moment. That's devotion! Poor Henry, though. Such the underdog!

AC's Haircut

Hard to feel sad about it when he looks so damn adorable in his shorter hair.

Let's Chat Episode 4

I always love these episodes. They're so much fun, and we get to see DD eat.

Watching DD cook is even more fun, and this episode really delivered. Best of all, The Pancake™ made an appearance! Based on what I was able to see, here's the recipe:

DD's Quarantine Pancake

1 pre-made scallion pancake

1 egg

Bacon

1 slice cheese

Lettuce

Ketchup

Heat a bit of oil in a pan. Add pancake and fry until golden brown on one side. Flip pancake and crack an egg on top. Stir the egg with chopsticks to scramble. Once the egg has cooked enough to stick to the pancake, flip to finish cooking the egg. Remove pancake from pan and place on a plate egg side up. Fry bacon. Top pancake with cheese, bacon and lettuce. Drizzle with a bit of ketchup. Roll into a wrap. Enjoy.

The other coaches were all such great cooks! I was impressed. Especially Han Geng, I mean, the guy really could cook. I loved watching DD react to Henry's noodle dish. Such enthusiasm for food. If he were an animal he'd be so easy to train - highly motivated by food. 😅

I wanted to try every single dish those guys made. Especially DD's pancake - which I fully plan to make one of these days.

DD is a born entertainer, and he is such a sucker for praise! It's very endearing. He always outdoes everyone around him, to hilarious effect. The yoyo, the magic tricks. Quite the showman.

My only complaint about this episode was that we didn't get to see much of DD with his little lettuce garden. I'm very invested in DD's relationship with those sprouts, and I was disappointed not to see more from them. Next time!!

I also wish I had more time to watch them right as they air. It's annoying have to dodge all the posts (spoilers) everyone is making, and then later try to catch up on them all!

Anyway, already looking forward to next week's episodes.

IMPORTANT: Please, when responding to these, remember not to post any spoilers. I want people (including myself) to be able to read the notes of these posts and not get spoiled. Thanks!

[butwhyduh]

Since you wrote Christmas with tha Bois are you planning on writing a New Years Eve fics too 🎇🎉?

*insert surprised pikachu meme*

now I am (!!!)

They are all required to go to a Wayne gala that Bruce has thrown since before he took Dick in as a ward. It’s important. So of course, I wanna show what kind of suits they would wear too. (Indulge me lmao) [none of these images are sensitive. Tumblr is an idiot]

Tim

Okay I get that you wouldn’t think high strung proper Tim Drake Wayne , Mr CEO, would were a pretty casual suit. But he wears a suit everyday and by golly, he isn’t wearing a tie for New Years freakin Eve. It’s something different and he can relax. And he’s so tired of black. Plus the blue brings brings out the color in his eyes.

—————

He adjusted the collar of his suit. He always wore a nice suit to work. But this was for a gala. The tie just wouldn’t lay flat. You walked up behind him and pulled the offensive fabric off and tossed it on the bed. He moved to protest but you started unbuttoning his collar.

“Okay,” he said with a slow smirk. “But it’ll have to be quick.”

“I’m just fixing your shirt,” you said rolling your eyes. “I’m not messing my makeup up before a gala. That looks nicer. I never see you relaxed,” you said leaving your hands on his chest longer than necessary.

“I relax sometimes. I’m relaxing tonight. With you,” he said turning to give you a quick kiss. You smiled and he took a look at your outfit. “I’ll have to keep my eye peeled though. You’re going to attract a lot of attention in that.”

“Too bad I’m already dating a man they couldn’t possibly compete with. Come on, lover boy,” you said and he took your hand before going downstairs.

It was always stressful to first go to a gala. Tim was moderately famous as Bruce Wayne’s heir, heir to the Drake family fortune, and the acting CEO of Wayne Enterprise. Luckily this was very boring to most young people and his pictures were in a small section of the business page of the papers rather than like Dick Grayson being splashed all over the lifestyle section like a celebrity. But cameras flashing as you walked down stairs in heels was terrifying. Tim was the only one to notice as you gripped his arm like a vice each time.

You could usually smile and drink champagne as Tim talked shop with the old men he worked with or young men who were trying to climb the business ladder. Tim’s fingers made idle circles in your hand or on your back as he talked. He was also taking glances at you in you outfit all evening.

Only when he was desperate for a break would he ask you to dance. Tim was a good dancer. He had been taught at an early age. But he was not a natural and he didn’t want you bothered with more photos. You insisted after a full hour of talking about some sort of quarterly investment opportunity that he take you to the dance floor.

“Dance with me, Timmy,” you asked quietly in a lull in the conversation. It was almost midnight anyways. He smiled at you before looking back at the men.

“Excuse us,” Tim said before letting you lead him to the floor. He gently held your waist and you wrapped your arms around his neck. The song was fairly slow so you barely danced more than a sway. That was fine. You were more interested in staring in to his ocean eyes than cutting a rug.

“Sorry if it’s been incredibly boring,” Tim said. “You’d probably rather be doing anything else.”

“Dancing is nice. Seeing you more than 5 minutes is nice,” you said.

“Speaking of 5 minutes, it’s 5 minutes until midnight.”

“No more work talk tonight. Just be with me,” you pleaded softly. Tim frowned for a second before pulling you closer.

“I can do that. All yours tonight. I’ll just punch anyone who tries to talk business to me,” he said.

“Good enthusiasm. Terrible plan. Sweet though,” you said kissing his cheek. He smiled.

“Or we could just leave right after New Years,” Tim said with a wiggle of his brows. You giggled.

“Better plan.”

Bruce had gotten on the stage and the music stopped. You didn’t let Tim go. As they counted down to midnight, you and Tim gazed at each other.

3-2-1

🎆🎇

You leaned your face up and kissed him. Tim held your waist tighter and your wrapped your fingers up in his soft black hair. After just a few seconds you pulled back and smiled at him.

“Happy New Years, sunshine,” he said.

“Happy New Years, Duckie.”

“Let’s get out of here before they see us leave,” he suggested. The rest of the night was spent in his room and you were so glad for the loud fireworks to cover any noise you might have made.

Dick

Dick has been to 714 galas. He’s an expert. He’s expected to play the handsome charming eldest son. Wearing a beautiful suit is half the battle. Not to mention, he kinda likes showing off a little. It’s New Years. And the blue and grey bring out the color in his eyes so well.

———————————

Dick barely got in the door before flopping on the bed with his detective uniform still on. You sat on the edge of your bed, already in hair, dress, and makeup, and reached over to rub his shoulders. He groaned softly.

Barely off of work and already having to change into a suit for a family event. Dick needed a day off. Badly. He had the next 3 days off of work and he just had to deal with this night. No, he needed to be positive. You hadn’t done anything and he didn’t want to ruin New Years Eve.

You pushed your palm into a knot on his shoulder. He all but moaned. “Thank you, baby,” he said. “It’s these stupid cases. They have been driving me- baby,” Dick said turning to look and taking you in. “You look good.”

You smiled and giggled. “You think?”

“Always, but this? Wowza,” he said laughing. “Im going be showing off the prettiest girl at the ball,” Dick said sing song. You rolled your eyes with a grin. His compliments were usually over the top.

“Yeah, yeah. Not likely. You need to get dressed or I’m going to be very fancy for no reason,” you said and he hopped up. Dick was overworked but he always was. In record time he was dressed.

“Do you want to drive,” he asked hopefully. A quick 30 minute nap would be awesome.

“I can’t drive the Porsche since it’s stick,” you admitted.

“Well in that case, I’m teaching you soon. But not tonight. You gotta learn how to drive my car,” Dick said and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. You added that to the list of skills he thought completely necessary that hardly anyone could do anymore. Could you even buy a new standard transmission car?

“Sure, hun. Let’s get going before we’re late,” you said kissing his cheek. You straightened his pocket square and you were both out the door.

“-and then you push the clutch. Right here,” he pointed at the floorboard as he drove.

“Not tonight. We can do this some other time. And if we don’t get there, it’s fine,” you said evasively.

“Ever? It’s important to be able to drive any kind of car and if it’s just you and the Porsche,” Dick said with a frown. You could see a contingency plan forming in his head.

“I very much doubt there will be a situation where I have to drive your car,” you said with a shrug.

“I’d rather plan for it,” Dick said and you dropped it. It was like a security blanket for him to plan for anything.

Walking into a gala was exciting and nerve racking. Dick was extremely popular back in Gotham and it was honestly weird as he was normal back in Bludhaven. Dick was the perfect gentleman and made sure you felt comfortable and safe when the cameras flashed. You smiled and ignored whatever anyone said about you. It could be mean with jealousy. You were with him for his money, you were just arm candy, and you weren’t that pretty. The first time had hurt pretty badly. Now you had a new ring on your hand and you felt almost as nervous as your first gala. One through the door to the ballroom, you relaxed.

“Are you okay? You looked really nervous,” Dick said and you grimaced. That sounds like nice pictures.

“Just a little,” you said subconsciously playing with your ring. Dick, of course, noticed right away.

“What’s wrong? Do you not want the ring? Or the engagement,” he asked quietly and it broke your heart that he was even worried about it. His big blue eyes were wide with worry.

“Not at all,” you said grabbing his shoulder. “I just don’t like how they talk. I’m very happy. And I love the ring. It’s beautiful.”

Dick’s frown turned to a pleased smile. “Good. Because that was my mom’s ring.”

“Dick! You gave me a family heirloom without mentioning it? That makes it twice as special,” you said shocked. “Thats so sweet of you.”

You leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. “I love it. But if you give me something that important again without telling me, I’ll beat you,” you whispered in his ear and he laughed.

“Let’s dance,” Dick said. He pulled you to the dance floor. He was the best dancer out of all of the Wayne children and possibly better than Bruce. He had been dancing since he could walk. His parents were performers and taught him many dance styles. Bruce also insisted that all the children knowing all the common dances they would need to know at a gala.

Keeping up with Dick was the biggest issues with dancing. He could dance quick dances for hours and you had to remind him that not everyone spent hours a day training and fighting. At the moment you had insisted on stopping to get a drink. You practically pounded a water bottle while he sipped on some punch.

“Kinda floral. Not bad. Little sweet,” he said.

“It’s not alcoholic, is it?”

“I don’t think so. It’s just one glass,” Dick said. “I’ll be fine to drive later.”

“No. It’s just that Damian and his girlfriend have a cup each,” you said motioning over to them.

“It’s fine. They wouldn’t give them alcohol,” Dick said and you relaxed. Of course not. That would be crazy to give kids alcohol.

“Let’s sit down. My feet are getting a little tired,” you said with a wince. He nodded and you sat at a table by the dance floor. As if Dick had put out a sign, a bunch of people flocked over to talk to him.

Somehow a plate of small snacks ended up in front of you, probably Alfred. You ate a little while he played the philanthropist son of Bruce Wayne. It was actually really nice to be ignored.

Until it wasn’t.

An older Wayne investor brought a woman over as his ‘date.’ She instantly latched on to Dick and started flirting with him. Her hand kept touching his arms and shoulders. You were getting mad but this wasn’t a surprise. People acted like he was someone they could grope and touch without consequences.

Finally it was too much and you cleared your throat. She looked at you in disgust before going back to flirting with Dick.

“Can you give my fiancé some space,” you asked politely as you could. Her eyes raked over your body.

“He could do so much better than some poor trash like you in a second rate dress. Not even that ugly little ring could change that,” she said nastily. You gasped.

“Okay we’re leaving,” Dick said standing up. The woman had to back away from him. His jaw was clenched in controlled anger. He had a temper and this wasn’t the time to lose it.

You stood up and hissed as your shoes cut into your feet worse than when you had been wearing them all night. Great, you couldn’t even wear heels in front of her. She laughed. Dick simply picked you up bridal style and carried you out of the ballroom and upstairs to his old bedroom. He sat you on the bed gently.

You knew that she was just a vapid socialite but it did hurt. She had pretty accurately attacked your insecurities and you blinked to prevent yourself from crying.

“Baby,” Dick said bending to a crouch in front of you. “Don’t think anything about what she said. She’s just jealous. Not worth your time.”

“She’s not wrong though. I’m just a poor kid trying to fit in in Wayne freaking Manor,” you said wiping your face. Stupid tears.

“And I’m just a circus kid. Don’t forget that,” Dick said sitting beside you. He pulled you into a hug. “Not a single damn bit of that matters. It’s almost midnight in a minute. Do you want to go back downstairs?”

“Not a chance,” you said with a dry smile.

“I figure. We have a better view anyways,” he said opening the curtains. You could vaguely hear the noise downstairs.

3-2-1

🎆🎇

“Happy New Years, baby,” Dick said giving you a kiss. He wiped the tears from your cheek.

“Happy New Years. Sorry I’m all teary,” you said.

“Nope. Don’t be sorry. My new New Years resolution is to make you smile,” he said with a devious look. His fingers suddenly attacked your sides and pulled laughter from you. He pushed you to the bed in his attack.

“Dick! Okay! Quit!” You shrieked with laughter. He stopped his hands and leaned over you.

“Alright. I quit. But since we’re alone. Wanna ring in the New Years the right way,” he asked with a smirk. You grinned back.

“Got any ideas on how to do that?” You asked back.

“So many. Baby, so many,” before kissing you. Fireworks sounded in the background.

Damian

(Older 16 yr old) Damian is literally the son of Batman. He’s going to dress like it. Nice and formal and expensive. It was like a form of armor. Homeboy looks like a million bucks. His watch might be. And if a burgundy turtleneck A accents his well defined pecs, B shows the gold in his tan skin, and C the gorgeous green in his eyes, he ain’t complaining.

“Beloved,” Damian said pulling on his jacket. “Come out,” he said in a sing song voice that would have been completely foreign to hear to anyone else but you.

You flushed as you came out. His jaw dropped before he quickly straightened his face. He’d taken the risk of buying you a dress for the party. He’d seen Bruce do it for women all the time. It was practically his calling card. Even Dick had done it a few times. But this was a first for Damian.

“You look very nice. Beautiful,” he said quietly looking away at his cuff links. “Are you ready to go downstairs?”

“Just my shoes,” you said, trying to slip them on and almost falling over. Damian quickly grabbed your waist.

“I got you. I can put them on,” he said kneeling to the ground. He hadn’t meant anything besides efficiency with his offer. But as he slid your foot into a heel and strapped it across your ankle, it felt far more intimate. His hand held your calf a little longer than necessary before switching to the other foot. This side had a slit up to your thigh and he could see your bare leg up close. Damian gulped before attaching the shoe. He quickly stood up and cleared his throat.

“Are you ready now?”

You nodded. He offered his arm and you went downstairs. Cameras flashed for just a few minutes before Damian skillfully steered you away from them. His father would kill any pictures of you before they got to the papers but Damian knew how much you hated them.

“Dance with me?” You asked and he happily complied. He had been trained in several dance styles and was good at it. He also enjoyed the way you would smile when he would spin you. If it made his beloved happy, he was happy. It attracted a little attention. Bruce Wayne’s teenage son and his date could dance with skill. This too was only viewable in person.

“Let’s get a drink,” Damian said pulling you to the refreshments. You were out of breath but happy and followed him. There was suppose to be people handling the drinks but there were so many people. Damian pushed through and grabbed two drinks and handed one to you.

“Let’s find a table,” you said. As always, Damian pulled you along to a secluded corner close to the door to the garden. Cold air and little whiffs of cigarette smoke swirled around but at least you weren’t in the overheated body filled floor anymore.

You sat and drank at your punch. It was heavily sweetened and floral. It was refreshing and... warm. You waved at yourself.

“Is it hot in here to you?” You asked Damian.

“Want to go for a walk outside? It’s cooler out there,” he suggested. Damian took your arm again and you walked out the door into the garden. A stone path lined little beds of delicate plants. Topiaries lined the path. Small solar lights and the full moon lit the garden. There were a few people walking but not many.

Damian looked so handsome. Long dark lashes frames his bright green eyes. His skin almost glistened with silver light of the moon. He bent and plucked a flower from a bush. Damian tucked it behind you ear with a little smile.

“The prettiest rose in all the garden,” he said and you smiled shyly.

“I don’t think that’s actually a rose though,” you said and he laughed. A rare occurrence.

“It’s not. But I was talking about you. May I kiss you,” he said lightly touching the side of your neck with his hand. You nodded and he leaned down. You closed your eyes and his lips brushed against yours. You pressed a hand against his chest.

Damian’s hand slid to the back of your neck to hold you as he pressed harder against your mouth. His tongue slipped in your mouth and you made the softest whimpering sound. Damian’s eyes flew open and he almost froze. That was new and he could get used to the pretty sound.

You kissed like this for a little while. Damian’s hand slid down to hold your waist when he noticed you shivered. He pulled back.

“Beloved, are you cold,” he asked, cursing himself. Of course, you were cold wearing a thin dress while he was in a full suit. He quickly pulled off his jacket and put it around your shoulders.

“Just a little. It’s fine,” you protested. He insisted on sliding your arms in the sleeves and button the jacket.

“Let’s go in. It’s close to midnight anyways,” Damian said giving you one last kiss.

3-2-1

🎇🎆

“Happy New Years beloved,” he said with a kiss. Damian had grabbed another two glasses of punch and you two touched them in cheers.

“No sir,” Alfred said sternly, taking the glasses from your hands. “No alcohol for either of you. There is juice on the other side of the table.”

You waited until Alfred walked away before laughing. “They should have labeled that better.”

“That explains why it felt overly warm in here earlier,” Damian said thoughtfully.

The music had changed to overly sappy and people were kissing and dancing far too close. They were feeling the effects of the alcohol they had been drinking all night. Damian looked at them in disgust.

“Want to go upstairs,” he asked. You quickly looked at him. “Not like that. We can watch a movie or something, anything away from this.”

“Sounds great,” you said and you both left.

Jason

I’m fairly certain I’ve seen him in a suit like this in the comics. I considered him saying FU to Bruce and showing up in boots and black leather jacket. But Jason knows he looks good in red. And he’d probably get a kick out of wearing one of his suits he wore as Red Hood to a fucking gala. Bruce would know.

—————————

“Princess, if you make me wait any longer I’ll kick down the door and physically carry you to the damn party,” Jason said with no malice in his voice. You opened the bathroom door.

“Not all of us look good without a little work,” you said playfully tapping his chest. You yanked his tie straight with a little more force than needed.

“I’d have to disagree, doll. I’d honestly prefer you in nothing,” he said with a smirk. You rolled your eyes.

“How does it look?” You said with a twirl.

“Like a million bucks. That ass. Let’s skip the party and-“

“No no no. Let’s get going. You can be handsy later,” you said grabbing your purse.

“Promise,” he asked as you both left. The roads weren’t too bad with ice and in fact, it was going to be a rare dry night in Gotham.

Jason didn’t do pictures. He hated them and so you both parked in the servant entrance and walked in a side door. It didn’t matter. The Manor was beautiful no matter how you looked at it. And being a poor kid from Gotham, you couldn’t believe you were actually at a party in Wayne freaking Manor.

“Don’t be nervous. It’s just a bunch of shitty rich people in pretty walls. They aren’t any better than us. Hell, worth half of you, sweetheart. Let’s get a drink,” he said pulling you to the drink table. It was pretty packed but he muscled through to the front. He got your preferred drink. “And a whiskey on the rocks.”

“Don’t get drunk,” you whispered to him. “I won’t sleep with you drunk.”

“With a finger of water,” Jason added to the bartender who nodded.

“Good save,” you said turning to look at the floor. You sipped your drink and people watched.

Dick and his date were dancing some quick steps in the middle of the floor. No surprise there. Tim was talking to boring business men and his poor date looked absolutely bored on her feet. Alfred was watching Damian and his date from the corner of his eyes whereas Damian seemed completely oblivious with his eyes on her all night. And Bruce was currently heavily flirting with a woman who literally meowed at him. You resisted the urge to gag and turned back to Jason.

“Wanna dance,” Jason asked casually watching the floor. But you knew he wanted to dance because he asked.

“Yeah,” you said grabbing his hand. He pulled to to the floor. Jason was also trained to dance as all the Wayne boys had been. But he was probably the worst dancer out of all of them. His parents had never taught him anything as nice as dancing and he’d only lived with Bruce for a few years before the whole Joker thing. But Jason was a natural athlete and his dancing was still pretty darn good.

The dance was a bit slower than the one Dick and his date had been dancing to earlier. Jason held one hand on your waist and the other stayed in your hand. His dancing was visibly polite and innocent. The words he whispered in your ear were far from.

“Is it hard being the hottest woman here? This dress on your ass is fucking delicious,” he whispered and you flushed at his words. “I can’t wait to fuck you in it later.”

He really enjoyed saying things that were completely naughty in public where you could do nothing about it. But you knew that if he kept it up, you’d be finding a spare room before New Years even came. And you didn’t want to miss the fireworks again this year.

As the song ended, and you thoroughly turned on and scandalized, you asked him to walk in the garden with you. Lover boy needed something to cool him down.

“Sure, Princess,” he said snagging 2 glasses of punch on the way out. You both walked between the flower beds and he told you stories of things that had happened there. “And that’s when Dick accidentally cut the top foot off of this bush. Alfred had him scrubbing floors for a month,” Jason said with a laugh. “It was so bad that there is still a rule of no swords in the garden. Damian hates it.”

“I bet he does. But he could probably destroy the entire garden with a pocket knife,” you said with a laugh. Jason suddenly pulled you to the side with a hush. He motioned over a ways.

“Speaking of the kid, look over there,” Jason whispered. You looked over to see Damian making out with a girl his age. It was so weird to see him being so sweet. “I didn’t know he felt human emotion, much less find someone his age to makeout with.”

“They could have said that about you a few years ago,” you said slyly.

“Yeah, point taken. Want the best view of the fireworks?” Jason said.

“Where?”

“Top of the roof.”

You blanched at the idea. “No thanks. I choose life.”

“It’s safe. There’s a ladder and everything,” Jason said hugging you from behind. “Best view in the house. And if not, dinners on me.”

“Jay, you get the check every time,” you reminded him. He chuckled.

“Maybe I’m just trying to get a pretty girl alone to give her a kiss,” Jason said pulling you to the roof. You flushed. “Unlike demon boy making out in the garden. I have class.”

“You’re a classy lady. Show me the way before I change my mind,” you said. He took you to a ladder over the library. You pulled off your heels and started climbing.

“Don’t worry I’ll catch you you if you fall Princess. I’m right behind you. Did I mention your ass in this dress? I kinda have the perfect view,” he said. You rolled your eyes before throwing your leg over the side of the roof. Jason quickly followed you.

“Here, wear my jacket,” Jason said throwing the red blazer over your shoulder.

“Oo my knife now,” you said feeling in his pocket and pulling out a sizable switchblade.

“I forgot to take it out of there. I wouldn’t touch it too much,” Jason said taking it out of your hands with a grimace. You gave him a look.

“That’s incredibly gross. Seriously. Do I even want to know?”

“Not really. Look at the stars. You can see them through the shitty Gotham sky,” Jason said sitting on a box. He pulled you into his lap and you were grateful as it was really quite cold. You could see some stars and you leaned your back against his chest and looked up at the heavens for a few minutes.

The music stopped downstairs. It must be almost midnight. You couldn’t understand but you heard Bruce talk over a mic. Then everyone started counting.

3–2-1

🎇🎆

“Happy New Years, Jaybird,” you said turning your head and holding Jason’s jaw. You leaned your head up and gave him a kiss. He held you close and you made out until the sound of a firework had you jumping. You laughed before turning to look. The roof really did have the best view.

After a few minutes of watching the fireworks you heard some lewd noises. Jason looked over at a window near your spot.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” he said with a disgusted look. “That’s fucking Tim’s room and the sound of him getting laid is literally the last thing I want. What I do want is to take a bite out of that ass I’ve been looking at all night.”

[thran-duils]

Lost in Zero Gravity (P.2)

Title: Lost in Zero Gravity (Part Two) Summary:  Fem!Reader x Mob Boss!Tony Stark x Mob Boss!Steve Rogers.  Reader is a call girl who runs high end parties. She catches the attention of Tony Stark who invites her back to his room with his friend. She might have performed too well because she becomes their new favorite play toy and they don’t like to share. Words: 3,072 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Smut, prostitution, infidelity, angst, domestic violence, stalking, possessive behavior Author’s Note: Song inspo for this fic

Part One || Part Three || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

“You must have made a really good first impression,” Tatiana commented, blowing out a ring of smoke. Her charcoal lined eyes creased with her pleased smile.

You shrugged, “I was just working.”

“Don’t try to be modest now. It’s not becoming on you,” she laughed in response.

She had called you into her office to tell you that you had been specifically requested for an assignment. It seemed Tony and Steve’s mob were going to be taking a vacation and they wanted you available. You were not one to turn down a paid vacation, especially if they were going to be there. As dangerous as they were, they had been a good fuck and Tony had made sure to get you off. That was far more than probably eighty percent of the people you had been with since you started working the service.

You hated the smell of the cigarette smoke and it was always the hovering stench in her office. She was going to kill herself far too young and maybe shave a few years off your life in return for however she made you stand in here. You adored her, there was no doubt about that. But you wished she would kick the habit.

“Where are they going?” you asked, feigning that you were contemplating about refusing the assignment.

“Riviera Maya.” You narrowed your eyes and she said, “It’s in Mexico.”

An inclusive resort no doubt. It could be fun. Maybe you could ask someone to travel with you so you would not be completely alone when they were not wanting to bed you. Or maybe not… some time alone might do you well.

Tatiana added, “Wives are going to be there though.”

“So, why am I gonna be there?” you asked honestly.

Tatiana snorted, “Oh, stellina.” She took another deep inhale exhaling as she said, “There are so many things there to keep the spouses occupied. They’re rarely together except for dinner. It’s just for appearances.”

Rich people’s lives sounded exhausting.

“You just need to be out in the open, keeping yourself available for them whenever they have an opportunity to slip away and have some fun with you. Otherwise, just keep yourself occupied with the beach and nice drinks. I know you hate suntanning but there are shops to poke around in. I know you like shopping.”

“That I do.”

“Maybe they’ll give you extra.”

“I don’t want to go around trying to get greedy.”

Tatiana smirked at that. “That’s my girl. I trained you well.”

<><><>

Pushing your sunglasses up onto your head, you hopped up onto one of the barstools on the bar you had just walked by and circled back to. You had yet to see either Tony or Steve and you had been here since yesterday. The place was relaxing and the room was great. You had basically sunk into the bed, having one of the best nights of sleep you had had in a long while without any noise from Elisha in her room along your wall back home. Leaning over the counter, you asked for a strawberry lemonade.

“Strawberry lemonade? It’s a party, dollface.”

You recognized that voice and you straightened back up, turning your head to look in his direction.

Steve was standing there, leaning on the counter. He was a sight for sore eyes. He was only in swim trunks, aviator glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. That did not hide the fact you knew his eyes were running unabashedly over your body. Your stomach fluttered at the sight of him, thinking of how he handled you last time.

“I bought this specifically for this vacation,” you said, hopping down from the stool and turning around for him to let him see the whole suit. When you turned back around, he was grinning. “It looks good right?”

He nodded, “You look damn sexy.”

“That’s what I like to hear.”

“My wife is here,” Steve said, and you frowned instantly at this immediate change in conversation. Was he trying to kill the mood so quickly? He said, “I know. She’s got her little masseuse guy here to keep her entertained, so I should be able to have my own fun. But I’m trying to be good.”

Picking up on his hint, you sauntered towards him. Your hand came up, resting on his chest. “Why do you have to be good if she isn’t being good?”

“I had to hold it in until she ran off,” he told you.

You pulled his sunglasses down to see his eyes, keeping them on the bridge of his nose. You smiled when you were able to actually meet his gaze.

“Well, when do you get to not be good?”

“Right now,” he said and you smiled in response. “It’s why I came and found you. I saw you yesterday. Wandering around. Took everything in me to not come up to you. Looked like you found yourself a nice little boyfriend though?”

“He was trying really hard but no… no dice for that guy,” you told him.

You pushed his glasses back up and your arms wrapped around his neck. He grinned back at you, his fingers tracing along your exposed back.

“I’m assuming you’re liking what you’re seeing?”

“Very much,” he murmured, his fingers playing with the hem of your suit.

You nuzzled your nose to his. “Hmm. So we know where this is going?”

<><><>

You stood in front of the mirror, completely bare. Steve had brought you back to their villa. Tony’s wife was gone, off to a spa treatment. The room had a wide door open to the patio overlooking the ocean. There was a hot tub and pool on the patio and although you wanted to indulge, you refrained. You got undressed for them instead, waiting for them to get antsy enough to take charge. It did not take long as you predicted.

Tony came up from behind you, nude as well. His hands ran across your breasts, cupping.

“Don’t you look marvelous…” he murmured, his fingers tweaking at your erect nipples. You bucked ever so slightly, and he smirked. His nose came to nuzzle into the nape of your neck. “I knew I chose right… a perfect gem.”

“You still seem to like what you’re seeing?”

He chuckled, one hand snaking down to toy with the top of your sex.

“You’re gonna look even better underneath that mirror.”

You turned in his arms, your forehead pressing against his. “A man that likes to review his work. I don’t know if I should be worried.”

“I didn’t get to where I am by being a half ass.”

Steve was at your other side and he enveloped you to him. To both of them, you asked, “Any critiques?”

“Loaded question,” Steve chuckled. “I mean, the biggest is you haven’t sunk one of your holes on either of us. I mean, it’s been a whole five minutes. What’s the hold up?”

“Sorry, I was enjoying the company.”

He kissed the tip of your nose lightly, “And I’m sorry for being so charismatic.”

“I’m assuming you can’t multitask then? Be charismatic and fuck me at the same time?”

A low growl left his mouth now, “You’ve got a mouth on you.”

“Are you complaining?”

“Not at fucking all,” he told you pulling you over to the bed.

Steve was looking upwards, and you knew he was taking in the sight of you hovering over him as you sunk onto his length in the ceiling mirror. His eyes were swimming with arousal and you hoped to always be the cause for that.

<><><>

“Y/N, you got a gift,” Wendy said, pointing at the table as you walked into the brothel’s kitchen. You had come in to get a drink but smiled seeing the bouquet and gift.

“Really?” you asked, letting your backpack fall from your shoulder and along with your carry-on drop to the ground. You had just gotten back from Mexico; that was quick if it was from who you thought it was. Upon seeing the flowers, you knew your assumption had been correct. They had asked you what your favorite flowers were and even though that was extremely obvious why they were asking, you had told them all the same.

The bouquet was large and there was a nice heart balloon in the center. You smiled, leaning in and smelling the flowers deeply.

“Where’d you get those from?” Elisha asked, coming into the kitchen. You shrugged, smiling sheepishly, and she rolled her eyes, giving a little laugh, “I know exactly where those came from.”

“There’s also this,” you said picking up the gift bag from beside it, waving it at her.

“That’s dangerous,” Elisha commented, grabbing the bloody mary that Wendy had made her. They must have had a rough night.

You shrugged again, opening the bag. Your lips curled into a smile as you pulled out a bright blue teddy. “Cute,” you giggled. Elisha and Wendy shook their heads, taking a drink. You held it up against your body and asked, “Think they want me to wear it for next time?”

“I don’t think they bought it for shits and giggles,” Wendy snorted. “How was the trip?”

“It was nice.”

“Good to hear it. You should relish in this.”

“Oh, I am,” you said, putting the teddy back into the bag. You thought of the extra money that Steve had tucked into your bag, remembering that you should tuck that away. It was smarter to not spend all the money that was thrown at you. That is what fools did; you needed to think ahead.

<><><>

The dress was loose and casual, perfect for the saloon they had asked you to meet them at. They had sent a car for you and met you at the curbside. When you got out, you looked around, cocking an eyebrow at the sight of them dressed in nice, pressed jackets. You were going into a dive bar, what were they doing?

Tony took your arm, Steve trailing behind. “Hmm, a sun pattern,” Tony commented, his fingers pulling at the fabric of your dress.

You gripped his arm, smiling. “I like to be a shining beacon in people’s lives.”

Tony chuckled in response, his grip tightening on your waist. The bouncer did not ask for your IDs; they must know them. It was dimly lit, packed. There were dancers on the stage and your eyes were drawn to their movements. The woman dancing had curves to die for.

“Where we going?” you asked as they led you through the bar. Your eyes ran around the tables the further you went in. Did they have a reservation?

“For the real party, sweetheart,” Tony told you, his lips brushing your ear. You shivered at the touch.

It was dark back here and you tensed. Tony felt it, a light chuckle leaving his lips. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I got you.”

Two men were standing in front of a door and they opened it when they saw the three of you approaching. There was a table with a group of other men, looking like they were waiting for the three of you. There were a handful of other women sitting around the perimeter of the room behind the players. They made brief eye contact with you, sizing you up quickly before averting their eyes again.

“Took you fucking long enough,” one of them drawled at Tony and Steve.

“Sorry, we were waiting for our lucky dame,” Tony returned.

Tony kissed your hand as you sat, before he turned away and sat in his chair. Steve’s hand grazed you affectionately, before he sat down as well.

You sat quietly, watching them play. It was poker, that much you knew. It was intense, the tension in the room could be cut with a knife. They were taking this seriously and you surmised they were gambling a bunch of money.

Steve was staring across the table at the first man who had spoken to them when they walked in, his eyes narrowed. The other man was not flinching but something must have been a tell for Steve because he pushed chips forward.

“Well, senator… I’m gonna raise you,” Steve commented.

Your heart stopped a bit, hearing him call him that. Your eyes narrowed at the man across the table. You did not pay attention to politics but the way the man’s face scrunched at Steve’s tone… you knew he had to be one. A senator. What had you let them drag you into?

The man chewed on his lip before throwing his cards down on the table without showing what they were.

Steve’s mouth broke into a wide grin and he held out his hands.

“Fuck you, Rogers,” the man snarled before getting up from the table. He buttoned his suit jacket, leaving the room without a second glance.

“Sore loser,” Steve commented, much to the amusement of the other men at the table to your surprise. You thought they would be more angry about losing the money they had but maybe the man had been a common enemy.

They gathered up the chips, tossing them into a bag. Tony’s hand snaked around your waist.

“Wanna spend this?” Tony asked, grinning broadly, holding the bag up to you as he guided you towards the door. You giggled and he kissed your cheek. “Steve’s treated us. But especially you, baby.”

<><><>

Pulling your dress back on over your head, you straightened it, making sure it was covering your ass. It was short and you did not need to be flashing anyone on the sidewalk.

“You sure you don’t want me to order you a cab…?” the man asked from behind you, taking a long drag on his joint. He was still lying in bed, watching you get dressed.

Confidently, you turned around, fluffing your hair. You shook your head, “It’s not too far. I’ll be fine.”

“You’re a tough cookie,” he said, shooting you a smile.

“I try to be,” you said winking at him, grabbing your purse.

You left his place quickly, heading back to the brothel. It was not a lie, it was not far.

The distance did not matter though when it came to what was waiting for you outside.

A hand closed around your arm, yanking you into an alley. You screamed but another hand slapped across your mouth as you were slammed up against the wall. Your heart was pounding, your eyes wide in fear staring at your assailant.

Your fear melted away to a mixture of anger and disgust. You would recognize those hazel eyes anywhere. You had stared into them far too many times as he towered over you, beating you into submission. You had run away from them far too many times, locking yourself in the bedroom until he got tired of trying to beat the door down.

Garnering strength from a place you did not know existed, you shoved him away, much to his surprise. He did not expect you to fight back, and he stumbled back.

“Have you been fucking following me?” you demanded, your chest heaving.

“Just interested to see what you’ve been doing since you ran off. Looks like you are visiting a bunch of men,” Jared sneered at you, getting back on his game and closing the space between you. Your fists clenched by your sides and he noticed, smirking. “You gonna hit me?”

“No,” you spat.

“So, what’s got you leaving someone’s apartment this time of night, baby?”

“That is none of your business.”

He shoved you back into the wall and you winced against the cement scratching at your skin. You swallowed it though, clenching your jaw, glaring at him. You were acting far braver than you felt. Jared always had the power to make you feel small and weak and it seemed just his presence had that same power. You felt just as helpless as you did a year and a half ago. He was frightening; you knew what violence he could unleash.

“What’s this?” Jared asked, yanking at your purse.

“Nothing, it’s my purse!” you said, your hands closing around it to try to yank it back from him.

“Looks pretty expensive, Y/N… Marc Jacobs? What have you been up to?”

He gave another hard yank, and the chain broke and you hissed against the pressure against your shoulder as it snapped away from you. You reached for it and he shoved you back again, harder this time and you let out a pained noise. Your eyes searched the buildings that surrounded you, hoping someone would be looking out the windows and be able to come to help you. It looked like no such luck.

He yanked out the hundreds the man you had just left had given you.

His eyes were dark, glowering at you. “Where’d you get this?”

“From work!”

His backhand was swift, knocking you off balance. But he was there to catch your falling momentum only to slam you up against the wall for the third time, his forearm pressed into your throat. You gasped, trying to breathe.

“You left me to spread your legs all over the city?”

“What are you talking about?” you exclaimed pitifully, trying to deny it. Your hands clawed at his arm and he only pressed in harder, making you gasp more desperately.

“I saw you go into that building with that man. Yes, I was following you! And you come back out with all this money? I shouldn’t be surprised. You always were a worthless slut.”

Tears pricked at your eyes and he growled, “You always did cry too soon for my liking.”

Your purse fell to the ground and his other hand reached up between your legs. You tried to fight him, and he socked you this time. Your head knocked against the wall and you saw stars.

Jared pushed away and you crumpled to the ground, gasping for air. You squeezed your eyes tightly, trying to gain back some sense of balance.

“Hey!” you heard someone shout from far off.

All you could see was Jared’s shoes coming in and out of your vision. You felt a sharp pain in your stomach making you lose all your breath before his shoes were gone. You blinked again before losing consciousness as you saw a new pair of shoes come into your line of sight.

~~~

Tags: coconutqueen21

[vixenpen]

To Resist Temptation pt.3

(Priest! Hawks x Succubus Reader)

(This is the last part and it’s just a blasphemous as the rest of them.)

Keigo worshipped you. You were his goddess.

He couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, couldn’t attend mass, couldn’t lead sermons, couldn’t do his charity work—nothing—without desiring you, and the personal heaven between your legs.

You had consumed him entirely. Lust was his damnation now.

Keigo paced anxiously, feverishly dabbing at his brow as he pontificated to his rapt congregation. Stupid, gawking things all of them. He couldn’t help, but think. Those nasty, blasphemous thoughts of his only grew stronger by the day.

And then, you slipped in. Keigo’s golden eyes fell on you. Your painted lips, sparkling eyes, bouncing tits, and swaying hips. And his mind grew cloudy with thoughts of you.

The two of you had taken to communicating covertly through those tempting, stylish outfits of yours.

Pink when you wanted soft, tender loving. White when you were feeling chaste, wanting only to spend some time with him. And red when you wanted to be fucked. Well and truly fucked.

That was the color you wore today. A red wrap dress. The same color as your plump lips.

It was the first time in weeks that you’d worn red.

Keigo stalked back towards the podium to hide his erection. His golden eyed gaze was zeroed in on you.

“Now, if you all will allow, I want to talk speak on the whore of Babylon. The temptation and sin that she represents. The way she presents herself in so many forms, taking root in our lives permanently as she beckons us to bed her.”

Every venomous word was spat with such passion and radiating with such underlying lust, that it shot straight to your core. Keigo’s amber eyes remained fixed on your own as he continued to preach on the whore of Babylon.

He was angry for having to wait for sex for so long, and you knew it. You had counted on it.

You smirked at him as you uncrossed your legs to reveal your sex—wet, and warm, and shaved.

Your smile widened when Keigo stumbled over his impassioned speech. Then his voice softened into a gentle, loving tone that you had become all too familiar with.

“But there’s beauty in that scarlet whore’s hell,” he all but purred, “and it may look like heaven to a man easily lead astray...”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The church was dark and quiet. Keigo stood at the podium in a daze, gazing unseeingly at the empty pews where he’d been for half an hour now.

Finally, you emerged from your hiding spot where you always waited for the rest of the congregation to clear out. The red heels you wore, were muffled against the carpet as you marched through the center of the aisles.

The sun beamed through the stained glass depiction of Jesus and spilled over your approaching figure, bathing you in red.

His goddess. His devil. His light. His darkness.

You stopped just at the stage, and smirked up at him, hip cocked and arms folded.

“That was quite the performance you out on today, father.” You taunted. “Though next time, maybe refrain from all the innuendo. Why don’t you just tell them we fuck in the confession booth every other week?”

Keigo gripped the wooden podium so hard his knuckles turned white. He hung head.

“You’re the only thing that feels real anymore.” He mumbled almost as if to himself. “You’re all I think about. All I want. I don’t deserve to call myself a man of god.”

You ascended the steps and joined his side.

“No, you don’t, you never did.” You replied, laying a gentle hand on his back. “That wasn’t the path meant for you, my love.” You nuzzled his cheek.

When he spoke again he sounded broken. His smooth voice cracked under the weight of his emotions.

“What did you do to me? Please, goddess, you have to be honest with me.”

Grabbing his shoulders, you turned him to face you. Your beautiful face was soft with sympathy.

“I made you something better.” You caressed the stubble on his cheek. “I made you what you were always meant to be. A creature of sex like myself. Every succubus or incubus yearns for their twin flame, love, but not all of us find it. You’re mine. Now I don’t have to worry about the temptation. You were meant for me, Keigo.”

The man’s mouth was gaping slightly as he took in your words.

“You...you’re a-“

“Succubus, yes.”

And suddenly, like a light being flicked on, rage shrouded his handsome features.

“It’s because of you,” he hissedx “You’re the reason I’m like this.”

You said nothing.

“You don’t even care do you?”

You scoffed.

Your lack of an answer only angered the young priest more.

“Oh, not responding, huh?” He grabbed your arm roughly, spinning your body until your torso was flush with the podium. “I know what’ll get an answer out of you, whore.”

The fire was back. It rushed over both of you. Consumed the two of you from the inside out.

Keigo groped at your curves, desperate and clumsy.

You sighed and groaned as he squeezed your breasts, manipulating them out of the dress

“You knew exactly what you were when you came in that day.” He mumbled against your neck before bending you over.

A strangled moan fell from his lips as he massaged your round ass before exposing it to the cool, still air of the chapel.

“Dick hungry slut,” his hand landed against your plump bottom.

It made you moan. Such a beautiful sound. How he had missed your moans. He did it over and over again until his hand stung.

“A whore hungry for the souls of good men deserves to be fucked this way.”

You felt the tip of him run along your lips and bent over further.

“How daddy?” You cooed in response. “How does a dick hungry whore like me deserve to be fucked?”

Keigo growled low in his throat before slamming himself into you.

“Looking at these chairs,” he grunted back, rocking his hips. “Thinking about all those lost, idiotic souls who could’ve fallen prey to a Jezebel like you.”

Your juicy walls gripped and grabbed at his dick with such hunger, you thought you might absorb the man. Every thrust, every nasty word, every insult, every spank; sent an inferno of pleasure rushing through your body.

Keigo spat on your holes, admiring the beautiful skin of your ass and the pretty lips of your pussy as he plunged into you.

“You did this to me,” he sank his thumb into the puckered hole of your ass. “It’s your fault I no longer believe in his grace. It’s your fault that I’m a sinning fuck. A liar. A joke.”

If that’s what he wanted to believe. Then sure. You’d allow that for now.

You groaned as his finger slipped in and out of the tight, sensitive hold of your ass. His dick hit your gspot with every slam.

“You-you...” he practically sobbed. “You’re the only thing that feels as good as his love was supposed to.”

Your tongue lulled out of your mouth. The intense build up of your desire grew so swollen that it smothered your senses.

“Ahh, daddy! Fuck!” You twerked your ass back to meet his thrusts.

“Kei-Keigo,” you gasped between they squirting and thrusting and screaming. “It was you that allowed yourself to be corrupted, wasn’t it?”

Without missing a beat he replied, guiltily; “Yes, goddess.”

“Because, ah, a small part of you-oh fuck-never believed in the word to begin with. Did you?”

His hips stuttered.

“No,” he replied, his voice meek and quiet.

“Lie down.” You commanded, calmly.

Without hesitation, he lie down on the floor. The way he gazed at you was reverent as he awaited further instruction.

You stood poised over his hard on, looking down at this pitiful new incubus. He needed you. He craved you. Poor thing.

Slowly, you sank onto his dick, forcing him to feel every crevice and ridge of your dripping pussy until you were balls deep on him.

You rode him like a thoroughbred until his mouth fell open.

“You were always a sex crazed whore weren’t you, pet?”

“Y-yes, goddess.”

“Yes what?” You hissed. You squeezed his neck, red coffin nails digging into the skin

“Ahh fuck, y-yes I’m a sex crazed wh-whore goddess.” He croaked.

You leaned down until you were right in his flushed face. Keigo struggled to crane his neck towards you. He wanted to taste you. Needed it so badly that it hurt.

“Goddess, please..” his hips bucked weakly. “My goddesss, I-I, ahaaa!”

He came. Hard. His eyes crossed. Drool trickled from the corner of his mouth.

“You’re my slut aren’t you?” You snapped in a low, demanding voice. You jerked his head against the floor. “Say it!”

“I’mmmm y-you’re slut, goddess. I’m your slut.”

The desperate strain in his cracking voice made your pussy convulse with pleasure. Your eyes rolled back as you rode out your orgasm again and again and again.

Keigo was sobbing from the over stimulation. It hurt. It hurt so good.

“Goddess,” he whimpered, “stoppp, please, p-please, goddess.”

Your wicked laughter filled the chapel as you mocked him.

“You want me to stop, slut? Hm?” You hummed. You squeezed his throat again. In a sinister his you spat; “Then beg. Beg, my little pet incubus.”

The man’s lips trembled.

“Mercy, goddess,” he groaned. “Mercy on your pet slut, mercy. Mercyyy, fuccckkkk mercy!”

After feasting on his pleas a while longer, you finally hopped off of his half mast erection.

You kissed the man’s trembling lips over and over again, whispering words of love and praise in his ear for being so good.

“What do I do now, goddess?” He asked, weakly. “Who am I now?”

“You’re mine, pet.” You kissed his temple. “You’re mine.”

[amygdalagustd]

Kim Namjoon on Identity

Namjoon explores the concept of identity time and time again in his life and in his music. He tends to focus on how different parts of himself might be in conflict with each other, and the tensions and confusion that goes with that experience. People are filled with duality, sometimes to the point that it tears us apart. The question of “who am I?” seems a simple one, but underneath it lies a lot of complexity. Who do I want to be? Who do other people want me to be? How much of my identity is formed by my past? Can I change who I am? Can I be multiple things at the same time? Who is the real me? What does it even mean to be the real me?

The question of “who am I?” seems to both fascinate and terrify Namjoon. In this essay we will tackle the question together as I explore all the different ways that Namjoon contemplates identity in lyrics and interviews.

From his decision to become a rapper in the first place to the struggle of taking care of himself as a world famous idol to the questioning of what having an identity actually means, we will travel through Namjoon’s career and highlight all the moments that he asks himself:

“Who the hell am I?”

It’s no secret that Namjoon was a very intelligent and driven student who got good grades in school. In his earlier lyrics he often writes about the pressure that was put on him to succeed and follow a certain path in life. As someone who was good at studying it was expected of him to prioritize his education above all else. Namjoon fit into that role well, but behind the scenes his heart was longing for music. He discovered rap and decided that he wanted a different path for his life. BTS’s early work is filled with messages of following your dreams and not letting other people decide what type of life you want to live. Namjoon often talked about the struggles of living in between the expectations of those around him and his own desires for his future. Some of those conflicting feelings are expressed in Voice, the intro song to his 2015 mixtape RM:

Straight A student and underground rapper

I occupied myself all day with being graded with meaningless numbers like beef gets graded

I just wanted to succeed

because that’s the only thing I was told by others so much that I almost got sick of it

The mirage called happiness- I thought it would be held there

But, sitting at my desk, I was never happy, not for a single moment

I secretly hid a blank sheet of paper between the pages of my study book without my mom’s knowing

My identity that I wrote down along the sound of drums and bass

The feeling of breathing that is different from that of receiving grade reports

Even when I was the top of my class, my mind was never at ease

Is it absolutely necessary to want something that others want?

I secretly raise the volume of my voice

so that you can know, so that it can reach you

I again raise the volume of my voice

so that you can know, so that it can reach you

He also touches on the subject in Born Singer, which was released in 2013:

To be honest, I was scared that I was to prove myself after talking big

that I, who used to know only pen and book, was then to surprise the world

I dunno, that I and the world’s expectations are too asymmetric,

I was scared that I might betray everyone who trusted me

I stretch my burdened shoulders and step onto the very first stage

BTS and Namjoon will continue to talk about the pressure of society's expectations and the difficulty of following your own path in songs like No More Dream, N.O and School of Tears. Fighting back against the oppressive school system is a huge part of their message and mission in their early career. They ask their fans and themselves to look at the person that they are expected to become and question if that image is in line with their own dreams and desires. Namjoon wrestled with this question himself, and therefore has the experience and passion to guide others who might be struggling with their identity and the identity that is put on them.

Idol and artist

The concept of being an idol vs being an artist is one that comes back often in BTS lyrics. Namjoon is an underground rapper who ended up in a boyband, and the identity of being an idol is one that he has wrestled with quite a bit. Can you be both an idol and an artist? Does becoming an idol mean that you have to give up on being an artist? Does it matter if you call yourself an idol or an artist? Does it matter what other people say about it?

Namjoon mentions this conflicting identity in Awakening on his 2015 mixtape RM:

Every night I fight myself inside me

My heart pounds, and my colleagues stab me in the back

saying I became a cripple after going into a company

Yeah fuck you I’m an idol, yeah yeah i’m an idol

I hated it at one time but now I love to get that title

Unlike some keep denying [their identity] to the end on television,

I now fully accept myself, and I just do me

Whether I’m an idol or an artist- it actually never mattered

The way you guys look at me was what defined me

I was obsessed over titles and hung up on how people described me

Listen to the rap of the guy who became a bit smarter as time passed

Namjoon gets shit for being an idol from the underground rap scene and gets shit for being an artist from the idol scene. He is hovering in between, writing his rap lyrics with the power and authenticity of a hip hop artist while simultaneously dancing and looking like a full fledged boyband member. He responds to this dilemma with unwavering pride, the drive to prove himself and a fuck you attitude. This energy dominates a lot of early BTS music. They are still trying to find their place in the industry while not really knowing where exactly they belong. Songs like the Cyphers and Mic Drop highlight the anger they feel about the mistreatment they face from both sides of the industry while boasting about their accomplishments and pride in who they are. Just like Namjoon in Awakening, Yoongi also often mentions his struggles with the identity of being an idol in his solo work. In Idol, the title track of the 2018 album Love Yourself: Answer, BTS face the subject head on:

You can call me artist

You can call me idol

Or you can call me anything else

I don’t care

I’m proud of it

I’m free

No more irony

Because I’ve been me all the time

You can point your fingers at me, I don’t care at all

Whatever reason you have to denigrate me,

I know what I am

I know what I want

I never gon’ change

I never gon’ trade

Why do you talk loud “blah blah”

I do what I do, so mind your own business

You can’t stop me loving’ myself

Idol is a proud, joyful, wonderfully weird and confident self love anthem. It’s a celebration of who BTS are at their core. In the song, they have accepted all the different aspects of their identity and they don’t feel the need to fit in with just one label. In the future, they will go on to say that BTS’s genre is just BTS, and they see no point in categorizing themselves.

RM and Namjoon

In 2018, BTS released a documentary series called Burn The Stage. The series followed them throughout the Wings tour and was supposed to show a more raw version of them.

In episode 6, Namjoon said:

Being an idol star, you don’t have a choice but to have two identities. I invested a lot in my identity as BTS and RM, and this is really a dilemma. We need to find ways to overcome this, and I’m trying different things. I study, I read books. I need time to be wholly me, the original me that I know.

Everyone in BTS has a stage name, a person they become when they present themselves in front of their fans. On stage Namjoon is RM, a fierce and confident rapper, a powerful and charming performer, a dependable leader and someone who lives a fiery and intense life.

Behind the scenes, Namjoon is Namjoon, a man in his twenties who is trying to figure out how to be an adult just like everyone else. He likes to go on bike rides, take care of plants, go to museums, read books and spend time in nature. He gets lazy and reads webtunes for 5 hours straight and sometimes argues with the people around him because they annoy him.

Namjoon spends the years of his youth as part of BTS, in the public eye, and sometimes that causes tension between these different parts of himself; the stage persona and the private person. In Break The Silence: The Movie which came out in 2020, there was a lot of talk about identity. During one of Namjoon’s segments he said:

There is also the fear of how well I’m taking care of myself, the Kim Namjoon as a person. Aside from money, fame, and a sense of calling, what do I really have? When you have those things all other things start to feel really valuable. Those who don’t have them would find them really special. I think it’s a repetition of that, so for me, there is a fear about whether I’m faithfully living the story of my life to the fullest.

He also mentions this dilemma in Airplane pt.2 on the 2018 album Love Yourself: Tear where the lyrics go:

Who should I live as today, Kim Namjoon or RM?

25, I still don’t know how to live well

For Namjoon and anyone in BTS, there is no simple answer to this question, as the nature of their job puts them in a position that makes it hard for them to develop a sense of self outside of the work they are doing. Even though Namjoon is part of an incredibly successful band, that doesn't mean he got it all figured out. As he has poured his youth and his energy into becoming the best performer he can be, he now feels like the Kim Namjoon behind the scenes deserves some energy and space to exist too.

Rap Monster and RM

Before Namjoon was RM, Namjoon was Rap Monster, a stage name that he used until November of 2017. The name Rap Monster fits the fierce and somewhat angst-ridden style of music that Namjoon was making in the beginning of his career. He decided to move on from the name in 2017 because it was no longer representative of him and the music that he was making.

In an interview with Entertainment Tonight Namjoon said that RM could stand for many things. He mentioned Real Me as one of the possibilities, but seems to prefer not to pin one specific meaning to the name.

In another interview with J-14 Magazine when asked what kind of advice he would give to himself in 2013, he said:

Hey Namjoon, Don’t name yourself Rap Monster. You’re a human. You’re not a monster. You’re a beautiful human.

Namjoon has often said that one of his missions in life is to love himself. This struggle to love himself often reflects in his lyrics, and now also in his decision to change his stage name, as the old one had some negative connotations to it. Perhaps Namjoons struggle with self acceptance, self worth and self love is one of the reasons that identity is such a big theme for him, as he is trying to figure out how to be a Namjoon that he can love. RM is a stage name that is more aligned with that goal as it leaves more room for flexibility and change.

Map of the Soul

The subject of identity is explored to the fullest in the Map of the Soul era that started with Map of the Soul: Persona in 2019, followed up by Map of the Soul: 7 in 2020.

Map of the Soul is inspired by the ideas of psychiatrist and psychoanalyst Carl Gustav Jung. The words persona, shadow and ego that are used in Map of the Soul come directly from his theory. BTS uses these concepts to examine different parts of themselves and their career over time. A lot of this era feels like a final examination of the question that Namjoon has been asking himself in different ways throughout his entire career: Who am I?

In Intro: Persona, the opener to both albums, Namjoon writes about his journey with identity in the first few lines of the song:

“Who am I,” a question that I’ve been asking myself for my whole life

A question that I will probably never be able to find the right answer for

If I were answerable with only a few words,

God wouldn’t have created all those many beauties

Namjoon realizes that he will probably never have a clear answer to the question of “who am I?” and he accepts that. He recognizes that his identity can’t be summed up by a few words or traits and that this isn’t a bad thing. Sometimes it can feel more secure to build our entire sense of identity around one aspect of ourselves (I am a straight A student, I am an underground rapper) but that puts us in a position without flexibility and without space for growth. As different parts of ourselves clash with each other we end up feeling scattered, unsure of who we are, and angry at ourselves. It’s only when those different parts of ourselves are allowed to co-exist that we can find peace and a true sense of self.

BTS will talk about this idea in other songs too, like in Idol, where Taehyung sings:

There are tens and hundreds of myself within me

Today, I greet my another self

They are all me after all,

so I just run rather than worrying

The notion also comes back in the speech that BTS held for the United Nations in 2018. The final message of that speech was to find your name and find your voice by speaking yourself. There was a lot of talk about losing your identity as a young child in favor of fitting in, and Namjoon encouraged everyone to be their own person and to find their own voice back. Throughout the speech he mentions how he is both an idol and artist, Kim Namjoon and RM, and also just an ordinary 24 year old guy. He is saying that he can be many things at once and strives to love all those different parts of himself at the same time.

In the final verses of Intro: Persona, Namjoon boldly and confidently claims that he is no longer ashamed of the different parts inside of him, writing:

Yeah my name is R

The ‘me’ who I remember and who people know

The ‘me’ who I created by myself to speak my mind

Yeah, I might have been deceiving myself, I might have been lying

But, I’m not ashamed of it, this is the map of my soul

The lyrics continue, focusing on duality, complexity and balance within his identity, accepting the different parts of himself that coexist together even if they clash:

Dear myself

You must never lose your temperature

because you don’t need to be warm or cold

Though I might sometimes pretend I’m good and sometimes pretend I’m evil,

this is the barometer of my direction that I want to set

The ‘me’ who I want to be

The ‘me’ who people want

The ‘me’ who you love

And the ‘me’ who I craft

The ‘me’ who’s smiling

The ‘me’ who’s crying sometimes

Living and breathing every second, every moment, even now

Within these lyrics there is a tone of direction and intent rather than one of being lost and questioning. This tone is very strong throughout the entire Map of the Soul concept, especially in ON, suggesting that maybe “finding” your identity isn’t about anxiously defining every single part of your personality, it’s more about choosing who you want to be and boldly pursuing the world as an incomplete human being. In the end, there is no simple answer to the question of “who am I?” and that’s okay.

All lyrics translations come from Doolset. Visit the website for additional notes and interpretations of BTS lyrics.

[bailey-reaper]

Ok I'm sorry but I love the concept of people thinking Barok is blackmailing his s/o into being with him and going to them like 'blink three times if you need help'. Could you maybe do a drabble about it?

Betrothed of the Devil

Notes: I'm inclined to agree with you, anon! It's hilarious to think of Victorian London's scandalised gossips being horrified at the idea that this dour demigod has found love, and thinking it must be coercion!

Content Warnings: assumptions; gossips; toxic suggestions

"Gracious... isn't he simply ghastly?" observed Lady Violet Beaufort, "Stood there like a living corpse... I swear his skin looks more grey every time I see him. Reaper indeed!" she took a sip of tea, then cast her glance to the one stood beside him in mid-conversation, "And what on earth has happened to force that innocent soul into his clutches?"

"I heard," Lady Cora Griffiths began, causing the congregation to lean in, "That that's his betrothed! Can you believe it?" there was a collective gasp, "I thought the person who told me was having quite the merry josh with me, but when I asked them they confirmed it!"

"How dreadful," Violet gasped, "I cannot believe it... what on earth must he have done to force their hand?"

"Blackmail, perhaps?" Lord Leonard Morris mused, "Or maybe coercion? He might have told them that to refuse him is to invoke the Reaper's ire..." several of the gossips nodded along, clearly in agreement about the unsavoury tactics the Reaper was likely to deploy –– no doubt had to deploy in order to secure a mate.

"It's utterly disgraceful," Cora said, before sipping from her teacup, "To think that such a ghoul is in our midst... I wonder if there's anything we can do?"

"Hmmm," Violet looked from the Reaper to his prey, "Maybe we ought to stage an intervention? Go over there and ask if they're alright?"

"And invoke the wrath of the Reaper?" Leonard paled, "No thank you!"

"Well I, for one, am not afraid of the Reaper!" Lord Alfred Wilson muttered, clearly intending to impress the ladies within their midst, "I would have no qualms with stepping in to save them from their fate, were they to communicate such a desire."

"Hmm... Oh look, it appears the Reaper is going to refresh their glasses –– let us hope he does not intend to fill them with blood and in someway bind that one's soul to his..." Violet hopped up to a stand, I'm going to go over and lend our services to them!" without waiting for the thoughts of her coven, Lady Beaufort walked over, "Greetings!" she said with a coy smile.

"Mm?" they looked at the stranger and smiled politely, "Hello..."

"I say... are you quite alright?" Violet asked, and when they didn't seem to understand her meaning, she pressed on, "In the company of that man. I'm sure you are familiar with his pseudonym –– the Reaper of the Bailey?" they nodded, "Well, I know not what kind of hold he has over you, but fear not... if you would like our assistance, just nod three times to me where I am seated and one of us shall come and save you from his clutches."

"Huh?" they were genuinely perplexed by the offer of assistance, why would they want to be saved from their fiancé?

"Lady Beaufort," Barok said, towering over the slender sower of poisoned words, "Was there something you needed?"

"M-My!" the woman stiffened, "Lord van Zieks! No, no, nothing, I was simply speaking with your charming... friend," she gave a pointed look to Barok's beloved before promptly excusing herself to return to the safety of the group.

"What was that about?" Barok asked his beloved as he handed them their drink.

"It was really quite strange..." they said, "That woman was offering to save me from you... by telling me to nod three times if I wanted some sort of intervention?"

Barok arched an eyebrow then scoffed, "Clearly they think I have you with me under false and malicious pretenses, my dear... No doubt they think I've forced you into some sort of supernatural pact, signed in your blood from which you cannot escape, or that I've threatened death upon all you hold dear if you rebuff me."

"... Goodness me they must be incredibly bored if they have to waste so much time fretting over our love life."

"Hmh," Barok smirked, taking their hand to kiss the back of it –– a display he would not normally perform in public, but given that there was an irksome peanut gallery watching he somehow felt it appropriate to put on something of a performance, "Indeed they have precious little else to do than stick their noses where they don't belong."

They laughed softly, "Well... let them, I don't care what anyone else thinks. I love you and no one else will change that."

"... Thank you," he was truly grateful that this one saw through the monstrous image his peers were so keen to paint of him. The fact they loved him, and so openly, was a blessing; for he loved them with equal ardour.

[hanoella]

Affettuoso- With Feeling (Part 6)

Pairing: Bucky x Pianist!Reader

Set after the events of TFATWS: In an effort to start over and make a home in Louisiana, Bucky meets a friend of Sam’s who ends up being his landlord. With only a driveway to separate them, he finds that he’s not the only one looking for a fresh start.

Series tags/warnings: Slow Burn, Eventual Bucky x Reader, Mentions of Domestic Abuse, Canon Level Violence

Part 6 Word Count: Just over 6k

A/N: It's been such a joy to write this series. Once again, thank you for all your support! Every heart and comment motivates me and is just so wonderful

Taglist!: @vicmc624 @officiallykuute @undiadeestos @tailsoflightning

Read Part 1; Masterlist

“Please join me in welcoming Irina Novikov, the Reigning Queen of Russian Classics!”

Bucky watched from the special box seat as you walked out from the left curtain, the silver embroidery on your sea-reminiscent blue-green dress and matching hairpin glinting in the bright spotlights. You shook hands with the conductor and faced the crowd, greeting them with a deep bow at the waist. You sat at the piano which had been moved from the back left to the front, right by the conductor. The crowd clapped all the way until you sat down on the bench. Bucky watched you smooth out the tea length dress on your lap, your black velvet flat peeking out to settle on the golden pedal.

Bucky tried to pay attention to conductor as he explained the piece, but he was just so confused about the name. He looked down at the program he had gotten at the front. Irina Novikov was featured and italicized, indicating that person as their featured guest for this concert season. There was applause once more as the conductor gestured to you to open with your opening solo piece. Seeing your shoulder rise with your preparing breath, he watched as you raised your arms to begin playing.

The opening notes grew in intensity before settling into a haunting melody. It gradually filled the extravagant room. It was amazing how one instrument could fill an entire room. Or rather, one person. One beautiful, talented person.

You captured the attention of every person in the theater. Framed on either side of the stage with deep red curtains, you were in the spotlight. The way you moved as you played conveyed the emotions of the music. You could have been a dancer, arms moving gracefully up and down the entire length of the black grand piano.

Enchanted, Bucky was focused on you, and only you. The blue tulle cape on your right sleeve of your dress fluttering as you moved, hiding the shoulder. There was one stray piece of hair that moved with you, having fallen out of the low bun you had pinned with a silver chrysanthemum comb. The silver thread twinkled. It was as if you were the night sky itself, clear and brilliant.

---

Earlier in the month…

Bucky had just gotten back from his trip with Sam. Parking his sports bike, he walked into the garage to the door of his apartment, where something was sticking out. A white envelope, addressed simply to his first name. Walking up the steps and chucking the keys on the table, he opened the letter to find a note stuck to a lanyard with a ticket in the holder.

Here’s a season pass I got from the orchestra. If you’ve got nothing better to do, come see me play! :)

He looked down at the bottom where your name was scrawled, half-cursive and half-print. Flipping the ticket around, he saw the dates of all the concerts, the opening of the season being next weekend. Russian Classics-Part One was listed as opening weekend’s theme. Well, that was your specialty, right? He had to come.

Peeking out the window facing your house, he saw that your car was missing from the driveway. Probably at rehearsal. Wait, what do you wear to something like that? Did he even own a suit?

After taking one look into the closet, the answer to that was no. He was going to have to get one. Which is how he ended up at the tailor’s with Sam.

Sam had replied to Bucky’s text on where to get a suit. How have you gone this long without having a suit? Every man needs a good suit. What’s the occasion?

Bucky had texted him back. Never needed one until now. It’s for the concert next weekend.

Oh snap, that is an occasion. Meet me here-

So now, he was sitting in the plush velvet armchair by the entrance, waiting for Sam to show up. He was on his phone, scrolling through the news, trying to avoid the gaze of the sales clerk who was giving him quite the look from under her eyelashes. Thankfully, Sam came to the rescue.

“So, what’s the vibe we’re going for? Sleek? Rich? Mob boss?” Sam asked, rubbing his hands together.

“What? I just need a suit, man.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he mumbled under his breath, before getting hyped up again. “Let’s get you a suit!”

An older Black man dressed in brown slacks and a white button up came up to them and greeted Sam with enthusiasm.

“Sam! Good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you Mr. Frank!” Sam said, hugging him. “You remember my friend Bucky from the cookout, right?”

“Of course, I do. Good to see you Mr. Barnes” Mr. Frank said with a smile that brought out little wrinkles in the corner of his eyes, giving him a handshake.

“Bucky, please.”

“Well Bucky, what can I do for you?”

Sam answered for him. “Bucky here is going to need some suits so that they don’t kick him out when he shows up at the orchestra.”

“The one that your friend is at?”

“Yeah, actually. How do you know that?” Sam asked.

Before Mr. Frank could answer, a familiar voice floated faintly into the room.

“Wow, Selena, it’s absolutely stunning! I honestly couldn’t have asked for better. It’s beautiful.”

Sam and Bucky looked at each other before walking under the arch into the other room, Mr. Frank following. There on the short pedestal, you were standing in the middle of the room, holding the slightly big shimmering blue-green dress to your chest to prevent it from falling while the seamstress pinned the various alterations. Your hair was up in a messy bun, giving the seamstress room to work. The soft light of the chandelier giving you an ethereal glow.

Sam gave a low whistle. “Wow, you are one pretty lady.”

You looked in the mirror to make eye contact with Sam.

“Sam!” You said excitedly, turning your head and causing the seamstress to chastise you while chuckling. Your eyes then flitted to Bucky, suddenly leaving you feeling very exposed. You hadn’t seen him from the angle in the mirror. A blush creeping over your nose, you spoke

“Bucky!” You said with more surprise than enthusiasm. You were very happy to see him. He had just caught you off guard. His eyes lingered on the exposed piece of your back, framed with soft sea foam tulle, before meeting your eyes.

“Hey.” He said simply, before clearing his throat, red creeping up his neck. You stared at each other for a moment before the seamstress hung the measuring tape on her neck and gave the all clear.

“You can move now, but don’t mess up my pins.” Selena said, turning to point at Sam for the last part of the sentence.

“I would never.” Sam said fondly, putting a hand to his chest before wrapping the seamstress in a hug.

“This is my wife, Selena. We’ve owned this shop for the last twenty years.” Mr. Frank explained proudly, introducing Bucky to Selena. “Selena, this is Bucky Barnes, Sam’s right hand man.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” She said with a smile, shaking Bucky’s hand.

You hopped off the pedestal to give Sam a hug.

“I am so excited to get back to performing, Sam. You have no idea. Are you coming next weekend for the opening performance?”

“I’m gonna try my hardest! I have a meeting with Senate that morning, but I’m gonna use the supersuit, try and fly back in time. If I don’t make it Saturday, I will for sure see you on Sunday.”

“Awh, it’s no problem Sammy. I appreciate it. I’ll just be happy if you show up at all this season.” You said, taking a step back and turning towards Bucky.

“Well, Bucky’s going to be there, for sure. That’s actually why we’re here. To get him a suit.” Sam said, tossing Bucky a wink on the side.

“Really?” You said as you looked up at him, eyes sparkling.

“Yeah. You look beautiful… by the way.”

You averted your gaze shyly. “Thank you.” You said meekly, swishing the dress slightly. “I’m glad you’re coming. I was wondering if you had gotten the season pass.”

“I did, thank you.”

Sam, Frank, and Selena all exchanged knowing looks, Sam rolling his eyes while smirking.

“Well, you guys got an exclusive sneak peak at my opening night dress. It was nice to see you guys!” You said as you gathered your dress up, Selena grabbing the back. You waved as you disappeared around the corner into the dressing room.

A few moments went by in silence before Mr. Frank spoke up.

“Well son, I see why you got it bad.” He patted Bucky on the shoulder, turning around and walking towards the main room.

“Well, I-” Bucky started, turning to see that he was alone with Sam, who was leaning over on his knees, holding in the laughter.

An hour later and Bucky had settled on a slim cut dark blue suit and a similar one in light grey. With a handful of ties and a pair of dress shoes, they were at the front to check out.

“So, the suit alterations will be done by this weekend so you can pick it up anytime this Saturday or after.” Before Bucky could pay, Sam held out a hand, shoving his card in the payment kiosk.

“This one’s on me. Just promise me you’ll make it this weekend. I might not be able to. But someone she cares about should make it to her first night back in action.”

Bucky paused before putting a hand on Sam’s shoulder and squeezing. “Thanks man.”

“Anytime, Buck.”

“Actually boys, the bill’s taken care of.” Selena said as she strolled up to the desk. “Your friend footed the bill. So, you’re paid in full.”

---

A week passed by and he hardly saw you to thank you for the suits. You would wave hello and goodbye in passing as you got into your car. Sometimes, you were dressed for physical therapy, donning clothes like army green leggings and an oversized black hoodie. Sometimes, you were dressed in business casual for rehearsals, wearing slim cut khaki slacks and a light blue blouse with the sleeves rolled up into cuffs just above your elbow.

Bucky really didn’t have anything to do since you weren’t around much. Occasionally, he raked the fallen leaves in your yard. He’d finally fixed that mower, though there was no use for it now. So, he spent his days catching up on reading, watching The Hobbit movies and waiting up for you to come home. He couldn’t really sleep if you hadn’t made it home safe yet. Something that had taken him a while to realize. It made him linger by the window facing your house, pretending to watch something on TV until he saw your car come down the driveway.

Today though, he had one thing on his to-do list. Walking into the tailor’s shop to pick up his suits, he saw that the sales clerk from last week with the eyes was working today. He cursed in his head as he walked up to the desk, where she was leaning over trying to show off some cleavage.

“How can I help you?”

“Picking up some suits. My ticket number is-”

“No need, I remember you from last week. Hard to forget a face like that.” She said with a wink as she walked to the back. Bucky purposefully looked the opposite way, clearing his throat in the process.

“Here you go Mr. Barnes, I appreciate your patronage.” She said with a sly smile.

“Thanks.” He responded dryly.

As he grabbed the hanger of the garment bag, she startled him by refusing to let go. Bucky pulled the hanger lightly out of her grasp and left. Sure, she was conventionally attractive. But she doesn’t hold a candle to you.

---

On the evening of the concert, Bucky turned to look in the mirror, making an impressed face. He didn’t look half bad. The dark blue suit had a little bit of texture, and while the white button-up made him feel a little claustrophobic, the wine colored tie really brought it all together. Running his fingers through his hair to straighten it up, he didn’t look bad at all. It made him happy that like this, he looked like a normal guy who cleaned up nice. Well, almost. He had gotten a finer, more delicate set of black leather gloves. Ones that weren’t so clunky, to match the nicer clothes he had gotten.

He looked at the clock. Still had time to buy flowers. He’s got to do something nice for your opening night. Taking a backpack, he started his bike and drove to first florist in the city to find a gift. He took a lap, everything he was looking at blending together. Red roses were too formally romantic… Daisies were too casual…

Rounding the corner of the counter, he saw a small arrangement peak out from behind a large one. It was a smaller jar filled with a few blush pink peonies, with a few stems of lily-of-the-valley, lilac and eucalyptus pouring out of the sides. Wrapped around the neck of the jar was a crème colored satin ribbon, pinned with a small square cut emerald brooch.

“Ah, that’s the perfect gifting pair, one gift to enjoy now and one to last!” The florist said, popping out from the back. Bucky thought back to your room, with the soft sage greens and soft crèmes. It was perfect. Bucky nodded while holding up his backpack.

“Uh. Is there anyway I could get it to last a trip in this backpack on a motorcycle?”

---

The florist first emptied most of the water, wrapped it in plastic, and then put it in a firm cardboard box. Carefully setting it in his backpack, Bucky thanked the florist, tipping him extra. He waved on the way out of the store, feeling good about the flowers he had picked out. The ten minute ride from the florist to the concert hall was taken very carefully.

Parking his bike and joining the long lines of well dressed people, he felt a little self conscious wearing a backpack and holding his lanyard. He tried not to draw any attention to himself as he made his way slowly up to the box office.

“Welcome to the Louisiana Philharmonic! May I see your ticket?” A perky young woman in usher’s attire asked through glass.

“Sure.” He said, sliding the lanyard through the window.

“Hey, you can’t bring backpacks in the concert hall.” The security guard said, pointing at the bag Bucky was holding.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know, I just-”

“Either return it to your vehicle or throw it away.” The man sternly said before the usher whispered through clench teeth and gestured for the security guard to come over. Bucky couldn’t hear exactly what she was saying, but he caught every other word or so.

Ticket… Ms. Novikov’s personal box… have to let…

The security guard squinted his eyes at Bucky before gesturing at the bag.

“What’s inside?”

“Just my wallet, keys, and some flowers.” Bucky said, unzipping the bag to show him. The security guard had him open the box and show him the flowers for good measure before grumbling something, handing the lanyard back, and letting him pass.

Yikes… Bucky thought, putting as much distance between him and security as he could. Getting up to the usher, he showed him the ticket as he was handed a program. The usher took a moment to look at the ticket before directing him to the left, away from where everyone was walking.

“Box one will be on the second floor, last entrance on the right.”

Huh.

Bucky walked up the stairs, passing a fancy bar and going down the empty hallway. Coming upon an entryway labeled Box One, he pushed aside the heavy red curtain to find that he was directly overlooking the stage. He was the closest balcony seat to the stage, the private viewing area containing five seats, two in the front and three on the step behind, staggering the tiers so that everyone could see properly. Sitting in one of the front seats, the one closest to the stage, he admired the scene.

The seats were plush and comfortable, the architecture of the theatre traditional yet stunning. The stage was framed by a huge rectangular arch that was rounded at the edges. The gold on the trim and handrails accentuated the softly glowing lights that hung in two rows over the aisles. Each bulb was captured in a long tube of rectangular glass, creating the image of a row of glowing piano keys floating in the aisles.

Speaking of pianos, the shiny black grand piano in the front caught his attention. The keys were facing him. If this is where you were playing, he would be looking at your back and have a clear view of your hands. Most of the musicians were already on stage, except for you, warming up for the night. Suddenly the orchestra stopped, commanding everyone’s curiosity. The sound of dress shoes against the stage prompted applause as the conductor, an older man, walked out onto stage. After pausing to let the applause die down, he gestured for someone to come out. There was more applause as the first chair violinist, the concert master, walked out onto stage. The woman bowed before playing a note, prompting the rest of the orchestra to tune to her pitch. She did this several times before giving a nod to the conductor and sitting down in the first chair of the row of violins.

Clearing his throat, the conductor grabbed the mic and turned towards the crowd, slight German accent coming through.

“Good evening. It is my pleasure to welcome you to the Louisiana Philharmonic Orchestra.” The crowd gave more applause before he continued.

“My name is Arthur Albrecht, your guest conductor for this season. This weekend we have a lovely selection of classics that stem from Russian composers.” He went on to explain some of the history behind Russian composers and how their music was influenced by their culture. Bucky looked at the piano that was still empty, wondering where you were. A sudden loudening of the conductors voice snapped his attention back.

“We have with us this season, the most lovely pianist, nicknamed for her excellent performance of these very pieces. Please join me in welcoming Irina Novikov, the Reigning Queen of Russian Classics!”

---

Sam had showed up right before the end of the first piece, dressed in concert attire. Playing the last chord, you held it down as it reverberated all around the auditorium, waiting for the slow fade before finally releasing the keys. A moment of silence emphasized the heavy digestion of a piece such as that. Then, the applause and whistles came. People stood up in waves as you got up from the bench and bowed once more.

Sam and Bucky stood up as they clapped, just in time as you looked towards the box. Eyes flitting over Sam, you made eye contact with Bucky before bursting into a big smile, the breathlessness from the adrenaline making the rise and fall of your chest evident. Turning back to the crowd, you graciously accepted their applause. Sam glanced to his side at Bucky. But there was no acknowledgement. Bucky stood smiling and clapping, completely enamored, completely smitten by you.

---

After a few longer pieces that included the entire orchestra, the lights came on to signal the intermission. Bucky and Sam got up leisurely, greeting each other and stretching their legs.

“Glad you were able to get here.”

“I did! That suit is amazing, man. Stupid fast.”

“You’re welcome.” Bucky said, bemused.

They chatted for a few minutes before the curtain moved, letting light in from the hallway.

“You guys made it!” You said as you hopped down the two steps before hugging Bucky, who was closest to the aisle.

“Woah, you’re gonna push me off of the balcony!” He joked, steadying himself before hugging you back tightly around his waist, resting his chin on the top of your head. You let him go, moving onto hug Sam. He squeezed you back saying, “You were amazing! And these fancy seats you scored us really let us in on the action.”

“Yes, it was incredible, seeing you play up there on that stage.”

Practically radiating happiness, you tucked the one loose strand of hair behind your ear as you let go of Sam and faced the both of them.

“Thank you guys so much for coming. I was so nervous to get back in the spotlight. Especially as a featured artist, you know?”

“Oh yeah, speaking of-” Sam said as he reached into his suit pocket for the program. “Who’s Irina Novikov?”

“Oh, shoot. I’ve been so busy with rehearsal; I didn’t even get a chance to tell you. One of the things that we worked out in my contract is that I work under a stage name, and they get all the talent of a known artist. That way, I can… avoid anyone who’s looking for me.” There was a slight pause, Bucky chiming in to lighten the mood.

“Okay, but ‘Reigning Queen of Russian Classics?’”

“Hey now, I got that nickname ever since I won that International Rachmaninoff Piano competition while I was in college. When I got back, my friends threw me a huge party with a banner that said that, and now it’s followed me throughout my career. It started as a joke, but now I kind of like it.” You said, laughing.

“Well, you basically are!” Sam exclaimed, gesturing out to the stage. “You’re gonna tell me that you don’t look like royalty up there? Especially with this dress.”

As you smiled and accepted Sam’s compliments, Bucky’s eyes finally got a chance to take in the full dress. Selena had done a fantastic job. The silver accents sparkled lightly, the fabric orchid blossoms making their way up one sleeve. She had made it to look like the bodice was made of two large delicate petals of a sea green blossom. If Thor was the god of thunder, you were the goddess of greenery.

“Ms. Novikov,” an attendant called as they peaked their head through the curtain.

“One moment!” You called back. “Sorry, excuse me for one second.”

You looked like you were practically floating as you pulled up the dress slightly to go up the couple steps, the waves of fabric moving like a mist off of the sea. The attendant said something in a hushed tone and you sighed. The attendant left and you made your way back over to them.

“I have to go, but thank you both so much for coming. I mean it.” You said, each of your hands reaching out and squeezing one of their arms.

“Wait, I got this for you.” Bucky said, reaching for his backpack. He carefully took out the cardboard box and removed it off of the vase of flowers. He watched as your face lit up.

“Oh, these are beautiful Bucky. Thank you so much. I’m going to take them to my dressing room.” You said as you accepted the flowers, gently rubbing one of the petals between your fingers.

“You have a dressing room?”

“Yeah! Its around the hall and down the stairs. If you want to see it after the show. I’ll tell the attendant at the bottom of the stairs to let you through. You too Sammy.”

“Alright, sounds like a plan.” Sam responded.

“Okay, see you guys after!”

You walked away, arranging the flowers in the vase with a small smile on your face. Bucky watched you walk away before turning to Sam who, for once, had a serious expression on his face.

“What?”

“She’s a good one, Buck.”

“What does that mean?”

“You know what it means.”

“Aren’t you the one she calls Sammy?”

“Oh, so you noticed that because you’re jealous.”

“No, of course not-”

“She’s a nice girl.” Sam said, cutting him off. “I think you two would be great together.”

Bucky bit his lip and looked to the side. “I don’t think so. I’ve still got… so much going on.”

“No offense to either of you, but so does she. She makes you happy. I can tell just by how you perk up around her. You deserve to be happy. And so does she. You know you have the same effect on her, right?”

Bucky didn’t answer.

“You’re a good person, Buck. She’s a good one, and so are you. So, give it a shot. Don’t be afraid to be happy.”

Bucky paused before swallowing and nodding.

“Thanks.”

“Of course, man. Anytime.” Sam said, putting a hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

---

The show ended with a standing ovation. The conductor took a bow, then signaled to you. You swung an arm out and gestured to the orchestra, giving them credit before you took a deep bow at the waist. When you came up, you clapped along with the crowd, facing the orchestra to applaud everyone’s fine work.

Bucky and Sam turned right out of the box, which was the opposite direction that the crowd was filing out in. After rounding the corner, they found a stairwell heading downwards, just as you had said. At the bottom, the attendant greeted them, leading all the way down to the end of the hall to the last room.

“Ms. Novikov? Your guests are here.” The attendant called, knocking on the door.

“Thank you! You can send them in.” You called from inside the room.

The attendant opened the door and gestured for them to enter. Walking in, they admired the aura of being backstage of a performance. The attendant shut the door behind them, leaving them with you as you sat at the vanity. You were adjusting your hair, just having taken it out of the bun that it was in. Soft curls fell out and framed your face, the lightbulbs around the vanity giving you a halo of sorts. The cement-bricked walls kept the room cool, housing the green velvet couches, mini fridge, coffee table and faux fur rug. There was a three-paneled, gold mirror right next to the bathroom. There was a clothes rack with several garment bags hanging from it.

“Wow, major movie star vibes in here.” Sam commented, touching the edge of the velvet couches.

“Thanks! This is the suite for guest artists. Every time they have a guest star, they make a little nameplate and hang it up outside. When my time is up, they’ll stick it outside of the room with the others.” You said, now getting up from the vanity. Your hairpiece was set down on the vanity, next to an open velvet box that held your earrings.

“I didn’t realize you were making big money like this! Dang, can’t Captain America get a raise?” Sam joked.

“Ha ha,” you said sarcastically. “I will admit I get a nice salary, but the only things I spend money on are fancy dresses and jewelry to perform in. Gotta keep up the look, give people something to see.”

“And that you do.” Sam said as he chuckled. The sound of a phone vibrating paused the conversation.

“Oh, hold on, I gotta take this. This might take a minute. Be right back.”

That left you and Bucky. You looked at him for a moment before settling down on one of the couches, folding your legs underneath of you and resting your arm against the back cushion to support your head. Swallowing, Bucky tentatively sat down next to you. It remained silent before you both spoke up at once.

“I know I-”

“I’m so happy you-”

You laughed and he gestured for you to go ahead.

“I was just going to say, thank you. I’m so happy that you came to support me. It’s been a long road to get here and I just want to let you know how much I appreciate you. I wasn’t expecting for us to be friends at all, and here we are. I’m so thankful for it. You’re just… amazing.” You said, smiling softly at him. He felt the red creep up his neck and didn’t know what to say. Fortunately, you figured that and gave him an out.

“What were you going to say?” You now gestured to him. Taking a moment, he cleared his throat.

“I was going to say, I know I already said this earlier but the concert was amazing. You sounded great.”

“Thank you.” You said simply, still staring into his ice blue eyes.

“And you look great.”

“Yeah?” You said amusedly as you raise your eyebrows.

“Yeah. You look beautiful. One might even say stunning.” A little of the old Bucky, the smooth-talking one, made a surprise appearance.

“Oh? Who’s the one?” You scooched closer to him.

“I thought it was obvious.”

“Not to me.”

His eyes met yours in a deciding moment. You watched as his eyes flickered down to your lips momentarily. You wondered if he could notice how your breath quickened.

“Ms. Novikov?”

The attendant’s voice was muffled through the door. The knocking that preceded it had startled you out of your moment. Tentatively, the door was opened just a crack.

“They’re ready to toast the champagne.” They called in. You sighed and got up.

“I’ll be there momentarily, thank you.” You called back. Satisfied, the attendant walked away, the soft clicking of dress shoes slowly fading away. You turned towards Bucky, who had also stood up.

“They’re opening a bottle of champagne in celebration of opening night, if you’d like to join me.” Your fingers nervously picking at each other.

“Yeah, of course.” He accepted, somewhat awkwardly. You tried not to be disappointed about what might’ve happened if the attendant hadn’t interrupted. Turning towards the door, you were stopped by his hand gently grasping your upper arm. Eyes wide, you whipped your head around. Bucky opened his mouth, though no sound came out.

“Yes?” You said softly, features softening from shock to gentle anticipation.

“Did I hear the attendant say something about champagne?” Sam’s voice floated in through the crack of the door. Quickly, Bucky dropped your arm and you turned towards the door. Sam opened the door and eyed the both of you. His expression changed slightly as he looked back from you to Bucky, eyes narrowing slightly.

“Did I interrupt something?”

“No.” Bucky said quickly.

“Not at all!” You said, a little nervously. Clearing your throat, you smoothed out the front of your dress. “Let’s go, they’re handing out champagne on stage.” You flitted around Sam and into the hall. Sam raised an eyebrow at Bucky, who gave him a look that told him not to ask. They followed you to the stage where the chairs had been cleared to the side to make room. The red curtains were drawn, separating the stage from the auditorium where people were still filtering out.

Upon seeing you, the conductor cleared his throat and called everyone’s attention. It fell quiet as he made your presence known. An attendant handed you a glass of champagne and you quietly requested two more for Sam and Bucky.

“This had been such a wonderful opening night. We’re so happy to have you with us this season, Ms. Novikov.” He started. A hum of agreement made it’s way around the other orchestra members. “It is a delight and an honor. Without your charity, we would not be standing on this stage tonight. Truly, you have helped us keep this program successful and alive in such turbulent times.” The orchestra broke out into thanks and cheers. Your face lit up, your smile breaking out into one bigger than it had in a long time.

“If I may, I’d like to say a few words, Arthur.” You said, gently squeezing his arm with your free hand. The conductor reciprocated warmly, setting his hand atop your before you let go. Looking behind you to make sure that the attendant had gotten Sam and Bucky some glasses, you started speaking.

“Many of you know that this is the first I’ve performed in quite some time now. The road to recovery was and still proves to be difficult. But I’m so happy to have found my way back to performing, and it is an honor that it be with the incredibly talented people in front of me. Each and every one of you has cause to be proud. This was an incredible performance. And it is with pleasure that I say the real recognition goes to you all. With all of your hard work, you were able to reopen the concert hall and provide people with a bit of respite in a time of rebuilding.”

You raised your glass. “So, with that, I say we toast. To growth, and a wonderful season.”

The others raised their glasses while repeating the words. After the celebratory sip, another round of cheers erupted. Several members came up to you with words of thanks and commendation. The jovial atmosphere under the golden hue of the stage lights made it feel surreal. Bucky looked at you, nodding your head and redirecting praise to whomever you were talking to. Your dress made you stand out in a sea of black suits and black dresses, like a gemstone amongst the coal. He’d never seen anyone so beautiful, inside and out. He was snapped out of his daze when he heard you excuse yourself politely and walking back over to them.

“Sorry about the long speech, guys. Thanks for staying.” You apologized, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Are you kidding? That was beautiful. I’m glad your back to it. You seem happy.” Sam said, always quicker than Bucky with the responses.

“I am.” You said with a big smile, gaze moving over to Bucky.

Normally, Sam would be rolling his eyes or something at Bucky, but a text stole his attention away. He looked at his phone and cursed under his breath, scrolling through something. Bucky took the moment to ask a question.

“What’d you do for them?”

You swallowed the sip you had taken and looked at him with a confused expression.

“What?”

“Sorry, for the orchestra. They mentioned charity.”

“Ah. Yes.” You looked over at Sam, who was busy texting a reply.

“I, uh… Some unexpected problems with the building were going to close the orchestra. They couldn’t afford to fix it. So, I donated half of my salary for the season to repair the theater.”

Bucky looked at you incredulously. You smiled sheepishly under his gaze.

“What?” You responded, as if he was the strange one for the reaction. You never got it though, Sam now done on his phone.

“I’m sorry, but something came up. I thought it could wait ‘til morning, but things are developing a lot quicker than I thought. We need to go.” Sam said, looking at Bucky.

Bucky opened his mouth and closed it, nodding in reluctant understanding.

“I’m proud of you. Great job tonight. Sorry we have to leave so suddenly.” Sam said, hugging you.

“Oh please, don’t apologize. Go save the world. I’ll see you when you get back. Thanks again for coming.” You said, rubbing a hand on his back before letting go. Sam looked at his phone again before looking at Bucky.

“Your go-bag is on the plane; I’ll meet you there.” He said, before walking away, giving you one more wave before typing on his phone. You and Bucky turned to each other, not saying anything. You spoke first, reluctance filling your voice.

“You should probably go. Sounds important.” You said, looking up at him.

“Yeah…” Bucky looked in the direction that Sam had walked away in before turning back to you, still unmoving. He opened his mouth to speak, unsure of what to say before settling on an apology.

“I’m sorry.” Something told you he was probably apologizing for more than just having to leave.

“It’s okay,” you said softly, placing a hand on his arm and squeezing gently. “Be safe. I’ll see you when you get back, right?”

He nodded and you reluctantly dropped your hand. He walked backstage, but not before looking back at you one last time. Someone had approached you, but you were still watching him. You gave a little wave and then he was gone. You took a big sip of your drink and nodded at whatever was being said to you.

Bucky Barnes was going to be the death of you.