#not giving each chapter its own summary because my favorite element is the element of surprise

[mistymisfit]

So long, Marianne Masterlist

Minors DNI!!!

Series general warnings: Graphic descriptions of violence, canon typical violence, angst, hurt/no comfort, eventual smut, I'll add more as I go.

Summary: Reader is a spy working undercover in Gotham when she meets Jason Todd, who despite her better judgement she forms a very close friendship with. This story follows their escape from Arkham asylum, their fall out and the times they run into each other as they get older.

Relationship: AK!Jason x Meta!Fem!Reader

*indicates NSFW (series tag is w: slm)

AO3 Link

Part I

Part II

Part III*

Part IV

Part V

[gloster]

FAVORITE FANFICS OF 2022

What is up, you guys? HAPPY 2023. We did it. We somehow made it through 2022 that, in 2 words: TRIED IT. 2022 tried all of us in so many ways than one. Emotionally, mentally, physically, and beyond.

We all had ways of coming up with ways to get through the rough year. Friends & family (both blood & chosen). Music. Movies and shows. And of course fanfics.

The world can be turning, burning, but at least fanfics can always be counted to take us away from harsh reality and bring us into the sweet world w/our fav characters, OTPs falling in love dozens of ways.

Every year fanfic writers both familiar & new to me blow me away with their talent, their writing, their brilliance. And every year I always do this traditional post to give them their flowers.

If you're interested in past lists, here are the ones for 2021, 2020, 2019, and 2018

Without further ado, here are my favorite fanfics of 2021

1). prince & prince by Authoress aka @kiribakus (tododeku)

Summary: Note to self: don't accidentally fall in love with a prince who's in an arranged marriage keeping your kingdoms from declaring war against each other. Especially when you're spying on him as his manservant.

Jaw. On. The. Floor. Jaw. Still. On. The. Floor. This story is the reason why this post is coming January 1st instead of the December 31st. I stayed up till almost 3 in the morning to finish this story and my jaw was on the floor when I read it. My jaw is still on the ground as I write up this review. I buddy-read this w/my bestie @littlenightdragon & our mind are still blown by what we read.

This story has been a long time coming. This is considered the classic fanfic in the tododeku community. It's took me while to get to it since there are so many stories I wanted to get through, but I finally did. Quite frankly, because this is such a popular fanfic, I don't know what else I can say that other readers haven't said in their own rec posts.

However I will happily say this one lives up to the hype. I repeat: LIVES 👏 UP 👏TO 👏THE👏 HYPE! The writing, the dynamics between Izuku & Shouto, the smut that was just 🔥🔥🔥, and again I APPLAUD @kiribakus for how the story was done. This is loosely based off the Captive Prince trilogy, so if you're familiar with the trilogy, you definitely see the elements of the story while also having this fanfic be its own thing. Not an easy thing to do, so massive kudos 👏👏

2). The Pakhan's Jewel by theangryuniverse (viktuuri/victuuri; mpreg)

Summary: No one had ever heard the omega speak.

It was not that they had never heard him at all. They had all heard the voice of the omega at some point – a gentle laugh, for example, a quiet hum, or, quite more often, lustful cries and moans, caused by the Pakhan himself. But the omega never spoke, and never deigned to even look at them, for they all were beneath him, and mattered less than the dirt beneath his feet.

For they all knew that Katsuki Yuuri's heart belonged to one man only - and that man was Viktor Nikiforov, the Pakhan himself.

Someone had said, I believe it was either here on Tumblr or Twitter, that the YOI fandom is keeping itself alive w/fanfics, fanart, and posts on our favorite ice-skating couple. I 1000000000%. And this fanfic is proof of it.

Oh where oh where do I begin? Let's start with this. We have ABO and a Mafia AU with an established happily-married couple who give the same intense, overly-passionate in love energy as Gomez and Morticia Addams.

I repeat an ABO Mafia AU story with a couple who give off the same intense, passionate happily-married energy as Gomez and Morticia Addams, which I needed so badly and was greatly needed. It was soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo good. I ate it up like candy. I devoured every chapter.

My favorite element of the story is how Viktor is the Pakhan, he's the boogey-man that keep enemies and allies alike on their toes. Yet Yuuri is the one who keeps him on his toes- and knees-and however Yuuri decides to see his husband fit. It was sooooooo good. Like if Yuuri told Viktor to burn the world, he'd do so happily. He was such a simp for his husband the same way Gomez is for Mortica and I ATE IT UP.

And I'll definitely check out more stories by this author & suggest you do so too.

3). Winter Song by proantagonist (viktuuri/victuuri)

Summary: The set of Yuuri’s mouth softened into a private smile as Victor squeezed his knee beneath the table. His hands were bare, free from the gloves he so often wore when they were together on the rink, and the heat of his palm burned straight through the denim of Yuuri’s jeans. He slipped his own hand beneath the table and found Victor’s. Hidden from sight, their fingers began to flirt and play. A secret conversation all their own that needed no words.

Yuuri was aware that at some point—a moment in time he couldn’t quite place—Victor had become his boyfriend.

There wasn’t a single instant when it happened. It was a slow awareness, as if Victor had silently been asking the question for months now, and Yuuri had been giving him the answer a little more with each passing day.

Another YOI story? Why, yes, yes it is. Was this another one that gave you all the feels? Yes, yes it did. This one- all I can say is 10 10 10 10 10 across the board. This one was canon, in a way that was more so behind the scenes/deleted scenes that the creators didn't want us to see but the fanfic writer was like Yeah....FUCK THAT, we're getting those bonus scenes.

In this one, we see Viktor and Yuuri develop more as a couple while also coming into their own. I love how it's equal. Like yes, even though Yuuri has social anxiety, Viktor has his own issues with self-worth, past relationships, and expectations. The author noticably took time with the relationship where we see them become a stronger team, better friends, and a sweeter couple.

Such a joy to read.

4). The Roundabout Way of Fate by @itsmyartfam (tododeku)

Summary: “His quirk will get attention no matter where he goes. But if he ends up working with heroes then he’ll have their protection. That’s why I said most doctors and nurses have minor healing quirks- because people with powerful ones often catch the attention of heroes, who will in turn protect them from any villains who also have their eye on them.”

“Oh! Okay. Okay… this… this is a lot…. Heh, and I was worried he’d breathe fire…”

“Don’t ever forget- Izuku’s quirk is a good thing. He just needs to be a bit more careful than most children.”  _________

Midoriya Izuku wants to become a hero. Midoriya Izuku is born with a healing quirk. He learns how to save people a different way.

You ever read a story that's so canon yet not like canon, but you wish it could be canon? Like if you had a chance to redo canon, you'd pick an alternative. Well, for this one, if I could make it canon, I would in a heartbeat. Like it was among one of the first fanfics I read in the beginning of the year, but the fact I still think of it fondly proves how much of a great, fun read it was.

There are so many things I love about this fanfic. Obviously the writing, obviously the pining that goes on with both Shouto and Izuku. But I think the main things are I love how Izuku has a quirk, a Healing quirk at that, that seems so minimal to society but he's like, NAH You're not gonna push me around and treat me like I'm delicate flower. There were even scenes where he had to remind Shouto of that, and it was too satisfying to read.

But most of all, I love the platonic relationship between Izuku and Bakugo. This is one where you can tell there is a bond there, but it's much healthier with boundaries clearly set. One where Izuku isn't afraid to call Bakugo out & Bakugo actually thinks things before before just exploding.

I ADORED IT. Just as much as I adored the author @itsmyartfam for making Izuku a healer. They had expressed they dealt with backlash from other readers who didn't agree with the quirk, but I thought it was very fitting. Given Izuku's personality, his caring nature, his compassion, healing is perfect match.

5). flawless by @irishseeeker (kathony/kanthony)

Summary: Kate Sharma is the diamond of the season.

Viscount Anthony Bridgerton plans on courting and marrying the Diamond of the season.

Kate is going to make that as difficult as possible.

First off I like to give massive thanks & props to @irishseeeker for doing the damn thing and giving me what I wanted. Me & my besties @littlenightdragon & @kila09 all agree on several things

Season 2 KICKED ASS. Season 2 carried. Simone & Jonathon did what needed to be done and carried season 2 on their bare backs.

Season 2, much as it is amazing & gave me my new favorite OTP, would've been better if Kate had been made the diamond. It definitely would've given the Queen the buzz she wanted. It would've been made the season more better- not to mention take away the barely-there love triangle they were trying for and failed at EPICLY.

The fact @irishseeeker as if they could hear my thoughts took the idea and run with it, they have my eternal gratitude. Currently it is a WIP, but y'all should definitely check out because you'll be devouring and begging for more. I know I did.

6). Bottom by Anonymous (kathony/kanthony)

Summary: By day, Anthony Bridgerton is in control. He eats at exactly the same time every morning, he exercises for exactly the prescribed amount of time, at work he never misses a deadline or forgets to show a friendly face, and at home he's a dedicated son and big brother, always there when his family needs him. His life since his father's passing has been about control.

By night, Anthony is ready to let go. He doesn't want to think. He doesn't want to plan. He wants to let go and let someone else take the wheel. (Or the dog leash.)

This is Anthony's journey into being a sub.

Before this story, I never really read femdom unless the couple is a queer-sapphic couple. Now after this story? I just want more. Especially if it's Kate being that dom. Like please give it to me. Please please please.

Mind you, we don't get much of Kate or kanthony/kathony until the last chapter. The beginning is more so Anthony and Simon, but the main thing I love about this story is how it does explore Anthony's trauma with being the oldest, having so much expectations placed on his shoulders. Which is what the show did hint at, but didn't go deeper. In this story, we did. And I appreciated it.

7). All That series by @himawaribees (Itafushi)

Summary: Fushiguro Megumi and Itadori Yuuji first meet at a frat party and proceed to have lots and lots of sex. Like, a silly amount of sex. Some (the author) might say they have too much sex.

Follow itafushi's journey as they fall for each other and slowly, eventually get together!

This was an unexpeted I found on Tumblr, I believe. I've been rocking in the Jujusten Kaisen fandom for awhile- also highly recommend the anime as well as the manga. But as long as I've been rocking in the fandom, I didn't have a definite ship. Until now.

Sometimes, all it takes is a good fanfic to kinda show you how well a ship can be. Which is what happened here.

I've always liked Megumi and Yuuji's dynamic in the show. Definitely gives sunshine & grump energy. Eager pup & annoyed cat. But this story, along with many from the author proved how that dynamic can work even more than as a couple. The way I just devoured the first story of the series, then the 2nd one, then the next, and the next till I finished what's been poste & am eagerly awaiting the next update.

Honorable mentions:

Sweet Tooth

Trust Me

Slow Down

8). Like, Comment, and Romance by @xskyll (tododeku)

Summary: In the hero community, it’s common for popular heroes to have merchandise for sale. Amongst these items are a few staples: t-shirts, figurines, and, of course, replicas of their costumes. This is where Deku, a well-known YouTuber, comes into play. Deku’s Hero Analysis is a series where the host, Deku, dresses up in official pro hero costumes, then does an analysis of each hero and reviews some of their merchandise. Joining him is Hito-nyan, the sarcastic cameraman who never shows his face and loves to push Deku’s buttons. And watching them is pro hero Todoroki Shouto, who absolutely, without a doubt, does not have a crush on Deku. Except actually he does, which is fine, because it turns out they have a friend in common and getting to meet the adorable YouTube star is more likely to happen than he ever would have dreamed.

Midoriya Izuku + Youtuber. A combination that never crossed my mind and never seemed so right until now. Like second, I started reading the story, I was like WHY DIDN'T THIS COMBO CROSSED MY HEAD BEFORE. It makes total sense, especially with how in depth his hero analyses are and how much of a fanboy Izuku.

Along with Izuku being a total fanboy, we also have Shouto who becomes a massive (obsessed) fan with Izuku's channel, and quickly afterwards with the boy himself.

I love how we got the unexpected duo that was Shouto and Ochako, a duo I didn't realized I needed until now.

9). Most Favorite Bedtime Story by Sasunaru (drarry; mpreg/implied mpreg & veela-Draco)

Summary: Scorpius' most favourite bedtime story? The story of how his parents fell in love. And his grandmother tells it the best!

My friend Melissa aka Sasunaru can go no wrong when it comes to her pen game & her wickedly brilliant brain. This was no differeny.

A simple story, but a sweet one nevertheless of how young Scorpius loves hearing his favorite story, how his parents first met and fell in love. And who better to tell the story than the grandmother who was there to witness the love story unfold before her eyes.

10). Like Honey and Grenadine by bazooka (taekook)

Summary: A Somewhat Cosmic Adventure, In Which: Jeon Jeongguk is both a Flustered Meme Child as well as the King of Hell; Kim Taehyung is really good at peeling back layers; Jeong Hoseok can go wherever he wants; balance requires sacrifice.

A retelling of the Abduction of Persephone, but with extra awkward flirting and way more gay.

OMG, this story. OMG, THIS STORY. It just delivered. And I eat. I ABOSLUTELY LOVED LOVED LOVED IT.

We have a Hades and Persephone AU, which I never get tired of, but in this one it was a bit more modern, kinda like Lore of Olympus where Taehyung quickly finds the boogey-man everyone fears and is weary about is a nothing more than a bunny. So insanely cute.

Honorable mentions that I seriously wanted to add to the list but this post is already lengthy. All amazing, all greats reads by various writers y’all should check out:

With Just A Little Help From Our Friends by @sashadistan (tododeku; ABO AU w/Shouto quietly pining, Izuku being oblivious, Kiri being helpful, & Bakugo being done w/all their butts)

Letting It Go by dreamchaser31 (kathony/kanthony; Kate being through w/Edwina's shit & calling her out AS SHE SHOULD, Anthony & Lady D backing her up all the way)

Brighter than The Sun by @goldentruth813 ( sheith; a retired vet in care of care & Keith answering the call)

Hooked on You by @trenchcoatkitten (tododeku; heartwarming story invovling cats, Shouto being a pet daddy, and Izuku a knitting mentor that he falls hard for)

in his hands by @softlystarstruck & @babooshkart (drarry; trans-drarry who are happily married w/soft BDSM & even softer aftercare)

And there you have it, folks. Those are my top fanfics of 2022. I can already tell I'm gonna have LOADS for 2023. To the authors, thank y'all so much for your incredible stories, including the time and effort.

Happy New Year, guys

[amberlynnmurdock]

Lost and Found Chapter 2

Summary: While chemistry is not your favorite subject, at least this class seems promising. 

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader 

Genre: Fluff 

Chapter 2: Chemistry 

A/N: I watched No Way Home again and got all in my Peter Parker feels. I hope to consistently update this story for you because I really want to tell it. Enjoy :)

Archive of our Own Link 

“All right, class. Remember these seats because these will be your seats for the rest of the semester, and the person you are sitting next to is your lab partner,” Dr. Connors announces before starting his lecture. You were lucky to pick the back row and the back seat. It was a preference of yours.

And it was lucky that Peter Parker ended up sitting next to you. You wrote your name and date at the top of your notebook, ready to take notes. Peter nudges your arm. You look at him.

“This coffee is really good,” he whispers. Your heartbeat picks up in your chest as you smile.

“I’m shocked you’re still drinking it,” you whisper back.

Peter shrugs and takes a sip, “I–uh–had to do some errands before class and got distracted.”

As the class went on, you noticed how fast Peter takes his notes. It was like everything Dr. Connors said about something boring about chemistry, Peter wrote it down verbatim. If you missed something Dr. Connors said, all you had to do was look over at Peter’s notes, which he gladly shared.

“Some of these things Dr. Connors didn’t even write,” you say out loud, “how’d you know all this stuff?”

“Well, I’m a science and biology major,” Peter says sheepishly. You feel silly. Other people are here for their majors, not just gen-ed requirements like you!

“Oh, well, I got really lucky then, huh?” You laugh.

“What’s your major?” Peter asks.

“English,” you tell him.

“Well, I suck at English,” Peter says, “maybe we can help each other out.”

“I’d like that,” you reply. “Do you live on campus?”

Peter shakes his head, “no, just at an apartment off-campus. It’s not too far from here. Housing was too expensive and my scholarship didn’t cover dorm fees.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you reply, “but that’s cool you already have a place. Are you from the city?”

Peter is silent for a moment. “Yes. Queens.”

“Really?! Me too,” you say to him. “What high school did you go to? I feel like I would’ve seen you.”

“I was homeschooled,” Peter tells you, “I didn’t go out much.”

“I see,” you reply.

“Parker!” Dr. Connors shouts. “Are two atoms of the same element identical?”

Peter clears his throat. You look at him.

“No, sir,” Peter answers, “two atoms can react differently if they are in different states.”

Dr. Connors slowly nods his head. “Just making sure you’re paying attention.”

Peter looks at you and gives you a shrug. It’s silly, it’s charming. You can’t help but stifle your laughter. Peter laughs, too.

~

After class, Peter walks you outside.

“Do you have another class?” Peter asks, scratching the back of his head.

“I do. A class that is actually related to my major. American Poetry,” you say.

“Oh, okay. I don’t, but can I walk you to your class?” He asks. You nod your head.

“Sure. It’s this way.”

You and Peter walk in tandem through NYU’s campus. It’s nearly 4 pm. It’s starting to get dark out earlier now that fall is on its arrival. The leaves are starting to change color and the air is getting cooler. You and Peter don’t say much save for the small comment on how cold it’s getting, and when you’d be working at the coffee shop again.

You and Peter arrived at the English building. You stop at the front door and turn to Peter.

“This is it,” you say, “thank you for walking with me.”

“Of course,” Peter says. He smiles, but something is in it that you can’t quite figure out. His warm brown eyes hold yours. He’s holding his notebook in his hand still. The veins on his hands stick out. You notice a purplish bruise on his knuckle.

“I’ll see you around?” You offer.

“I hope so,” Peter says. “Can I… maybe get your phone number? Maybe we can study together for chem or… American Poetry,” Peter says with a shy smile. You smile in return and nod your head.

“I’ll write it down for you,” you tell him. You graciously take his notepad and pen, scribbling the numbers down fast because you don't want to be late for class.

“Text me,” you say, meeting his eyes again. His gaze never left your face. You blush, realizing this.

“I will,” Peter states, like a promise. “You work tomorrow?”

“Yes, I do.”

“I’ll be back for more maple pumpkin.”

“I’ll have it ready for you, how about that?” You smile.

“Enjoy class, ___,” Peter says.

Peter turns on his heel and walks the way the two of you came. You watch as his shrinking figure disappears. Finally, you head inside.

~

Peter Parker doesn’t have class the rest of the day, which means there is more time for him to do his part-time job.

He rushes to his apartment. Instead of taking the stairs, Peter finds the back alley of the building and shoots a web at his window. He doesn’t have much time.

He opens the window to his apartment and smoothly slides in the window, shutting it closed behind him. Peter rips off his jacket, shirt, and pants and changes into his red and bright blue suit.

Taking his police station phone from his bedside drawer, he sits on his bed with his mask hanging from his lips as he listens for… anything. His heart is racing, the adrenaline is pumping. It’s been so much easier for him to fight crime at night now that no one knows Spider-Man’s identity anymore. No one knows him, which means no one has to worry, or ask questions.

Peter has gotten used to living in the shadows, living a quiet life. After passing his GED test with flying colors, it was time for college admissions. The dream of MIT died long ago. Peter came to realize New York City will forever and always be his home. It only made sense to go to school here, too. Plus, NYU gave him a scholarship he couldn’t pass up.

Police dash: we’ve got a disturbance at Times Square, a man with a weapon threatening tourists.

Peter pulls his mask over his head, and dashes for the window again.

[cupofteaguk]

switching my positions

summary: Fresh out of college, Min Yoongi makes a name for himself amongst his online fanbase as an artist who writes about the ins and outs of falling in love. But when he is signed to a record label, his producer insists that he reveal a public romantic relationship to weed off any potential scandals or dangerous assumptions about the source of his love songs. So who else should Yoongi turn to, but you: his manager—but more than that, his best friend and secret crush. 

pairing: yoongi x fem!reader

genre: solo artist!yoongi, manager!y/n, fake dating au, friends to lovers au | fluff/angst 

warnings: yoongi starts off as a musician on youtube but it’s not really highlighted for most of the story, kim seokjin is a Hot Music Executive who’ll take good care of his favorite boy, jungkook gets promoted from a cameraman to a bodyguard and i love to see it <3, nayeon + hoseok cameo as radio show hosts BECAUSE THIS STORY HAS SO MANY CHARACTERS I’M SORRY, IU shows up as a ~superstar~ because i love her so much, it’s a slow burn fic what can i say, mutual pining, actually an idiots to lovers plot tbh ????,  recreational alcohol consumption, POV switches occasionally but i try to make it as obvious as possible as to what is going on, mentions of insecurity, there’s angst BUT IT’S A HAPPY ENDING !!! 

word count: 40.1k 

a/n: big big thank you to @gukyi​ for being my fic consultant for this story! she encouraged me and believed in this story more than I ever could (and contributed like 50% of the foundation that made this fic into what it is), and also reminded me that yes this is a fic so no it doesn’t require one hundred percent accuracy to the music industry despite every discord message i sent her falling somewhere along the lines of “how realistic is this scenario…” she was a very big support for this fic, and this story wouldn’t have existed without her!! 

and regarding the word count… my hand slipped. I’ve clowned this fic a lot over the past month but I am really happy that this is done and so so excited for you all to read it. Pls enjoy!!!!!!! Xx 

.

.

CHAPTER 1: THE DISCOVERY 

.

You’re late. 

Yoongi lets you know that much as you have to shove your way through a rather large crowd of people to reach him. When he turns away from his keyboard to glance down at you, your chest is heaving and your knees are bent in order for your hands to rest upon your thighs. There’s a plastic bag curled on your arm, the hard plastic of CD cases reflecting off the street lamps. 

“Sorry, sorry!” You breathe out, giving yourself a few more seconds to catch your breath. Nothing more, nothing less, because there is a crowd of people around you, currently staring you down, counting down the seconds until the clock struck 8:00—but many people wondering just who were you to shove your way towards the front. “The printer wasn’t working, and do you realize how difficult it is to get your stupid picture into these cases?” 

Yoongi scoffs, walking towards you and holding both his hands out. “Don’t call them stupid, you took the picture,” He hisses, taking the plastic bag from you and rummaging through the many CDs you had to make for him last minute. After ensuring that everything he had asked for is in this very bag, he softens up. “But thanks for getting these done for me.” 

You finally are able to straighten up into a full standing position. “Not my fault you underestimated how many of your wonderful fans were going to show up.” 

Yoongi reaches over and presses his index finger straight into your forehead for that comment. The force knocks you back a few steps, and Yoongi takes your few seconds of distractions to pull a phone out of his pocket. “Just go off to the side, dummy, my show starts soon.” 

“Fine, fine,” You tease back, easy smile, but your hand goes up to take the phone from him. “Break a leg, Min Yoongi.” 

Yoongi gives you a playful glare but he turns away from you to line up his CDs along the now-table next to his set. As soon as he starts placing CDs atop the surface, a small line of people step from the crowd—pointing to the CDs and holding out a stack of cash. Yoongi nods, takes the money, and hands over the CD. This happens a few more times before the line of people have died down. Yoongi looks over at the significantly less amount of cases at his table, and looks over at you, where he flashes a thumbs up. 

As Yoongi steps up to his keyboard and microphone, the crowd around him starts to cheer. The claps echo through the gathering of people, enough to draw the attention of passersby who crane their heads to see who has attracted so many listeners. 

Yoongi’s fingers curl around the microphone. “Hey guys, thank you all for coming out today.” 

The crowd claps back in acknowledgement, a few of them giving their own shy nods and waves towards Yoongi—gestures that the boy responds with his own nods and gummy smiles. 

His attention returns back to the next set of words he’ll speak into the microphone. “I got a couple covers and original songs for tonight, all requested by you guys—so let’s have some fun today.” His voice is deep, raspy and gentle, croaks slightly along the edges, but a perfect reflection of the soothing nature he brings to his audience. 

And you are attune to every single second of it. Of course you are. You blend into the crowd but really your responsibilities for Yoongi lie far beyond just packaging CDs for him and dashing through hoards of people at the last fucking second to make your delivery. You further prove this further by logging into his phone and clicking into the first background music he’s produced for today’s show. Using the music as a guide, Yoongi starts to sing. His fingers dance across the keyboard to bring an extra sound to his performance—to give it that extra live element that his fans love. 

You know that Yoongi has added these additional things over the months because he adores his fanbase and would likely do anything and everything he could to give them the best experience he could offer. After all, they’ve propelled him to this very spot—his own little corner of the bustling city streets amongst all the bars, shops, universities, street food stalls, and cafes. 

As the music continues from one song to the next, and Yoongi shifts his focus from singing to rapping to the in betweens, you see his passion. You hear it in his voice, in the way his lines string together where it seems like the boy doesn’t require oxygen anymore. Months of these live shows, even longer years to get here—and the people around him only continue to watch him in awe. Just like he’s done since the beginning. 

Min Yoongi started off his music career on Youtube, where he uploaded music covers with his own special beat thrown into the mix. Yoongi enjoyed music arrangement (still does), and used his videos as an opportunity to explore that hobby and share it with people who could also enjoy it. And enjoy it people did, as viewers started pouring in and his fanbase grew in the form of positive comments and increasing subscribers. From some videos, Yoongi had always teased the idea of original songs he had written in various notebooks that expressed the wide range of his emotions—overall all the trials and tribulations of growing up: the notion of love in all its forms. Normally, there was always a fear of an audience losing interest at the prospect of original songs, especially coming from someone who previously arranged already popular #1 hits. 

But that never happened with Min Yoongi. His songwriting abilities became part of his brand—became his entire brand. Yoongi always wrote out love to be more than sappy pop songs or tragic heartbreak. He established himself as someone who seemed to speak from the mind of every single person he came into contact with. At least, that’s what his comment section claims. 

In the beginning of his Youtube career, you found Yoongi’s online persona unusual and amusing to say the least, but it was always clouded with an air of sweetness and sensibility. After all, you had known him about a year before Youtube was even an option for him to pursue. The pair of you met in a general ed college class—big lecture halls and voices getting lost in the background as the professors’ voice boomed through speaker systems. Yoongi had asked to borrow a pencil, and the pair of you spent the rest of the class making side-handed comments about the lecture material. You sat next to each other for the rest of the semester and have been friends ever since.

So it’s not like Yoongi’s core characteristics have ever been anything other than caring, thoughtful, or loyal—he’s just never been outwardly expressive about those emotions. But Youtube changed everything: it’s made him a more vocal person, more open about his feelings as well as his need to share those feelings with the world. 

The world responded positively—wrote in the comments that they would love to hear some of his original songs, that he had already provided just a small taste of his talent and left them an insatiable desire for more. 

As soon as you and Yoongi graduated, his commitment to Youtube increased tenfold. With the previous obligations of assignments, papers, and research internships out of the way, it left more time for writing, for filming, for editing, for sharing. As his work levels increased, so did his subscribers. And so did the attention. 

You’ll never forget the day his followers suggested live street performances in one of Yoongi’s neighboring cities—a city street more specifically that was famous for taking in street performances of all origins and talents, a place for him to show off his freestyling on a keyboard and finally meet his fans firsthand. The idea caught on so quickly and vividly that Yoongi was immediately attracted to the idea. He held his first performance just a few months ago, as a thank you present for reaching one million subscribers. If you had trouble materializing Yoongi’s musical success before, the first live performance and meet and greet Yoongi hosted did well to eradicate all those thoughts. 

Hundreds of people showed up—standing alongside the shops, restaurants, food vendors, and cafes that already lined the streets, everyone intersecting to meet the artist who made them feel heard. 

You still remember that day very vividly. Yoongi had been so nervous that day, had worked so hard to put together the perfect set for his fans. Obviously, though, he had nothing to worry about. Soon, one show turned into two, and just like the request for live performances and meet and greets, the question of monetary compensation became a topic of discussion amongst Yoongi’s fans. That’s where the question of albums came into play: a singular place for Yoongi to put his covers and original place—and charge money for it as well! 

As per the request, eventually you and Yoongi decided that exclusive covers and original songs would be part of his album as a way to open up different modes of access rather than take away an individual’s general (free of charge) chance to view Yoongi’s content and just simply support without having to spend money. The introduction of his albums has been a very recent development, something added into Yoongi’s live performances after the tenth show and usually always sold out by the end of any aforementioned show. From what you’ve been able to see as of now, the albums have been a good addition. 

In terms of Yoongi’s current career, you acknowledge that it has always been you and Yoongi—him staying up late for last minute song-writing sessions or recording or arranging a specific set of chords he had been holding off for weeks, or you arranging the time and date of his live shows and fulfilling requests to put songs on CDs and figure out how to market those in an era of streaming services. And if there’s anyone who knows that he has what it takes to get big—it’s you. After all, you would do anything for him. As you would have done from the moment you met him. 

An hour later—after twenty songs and a swaying crowd around him singing along—the last song fades out and Yoongi pulls back from the microphone to catch his breath. Everyone else around him seems to hold onto their own, before Yoongi pulls himself back towards the mic to utter his last words for the night: “Thanks for coming out you guys. I really, really appreciate it.” 

In the midst of the claps and cheers, Yoongi smiles towards the audience, turns around to address the circle of crowd that has formed around him. 

As some of the crowd begins to disperse and some begin to linger for a potential meet and greet, Yoongi hastily remembers to return back to his mic for one last word to his audience. “And thank you guys so much for one million subs!” 

You smile to yourself as members of the crowd acknowledge his thanks with thanks of their own. As you watch Yoongi start disassembling his equipment for the night, you simply stand where you’ve stood for the past hour, allowing the crowd to simmer past you towards their next destination for the time. You pocket Yoongi’s phone into your coat, waiting for a few minutes, before you slip around towards the front of the crowd. There, a boy stands in front of a tripod, and his fingers dance around to unclip his camera from the standee. 

“You get the whole thing, Jungkook?” You ask with the tilt of your head. 

Jungkook whirls towards you, bright eyes full of excitement as he holds the camera with both his hands now. He utters your name. “Oh shit, yeah I did. We’ll get to see how Yoongi’s mic set up works.” He taps to the cord that connects the mic on Yoongi’s clothes and on his piano into the camera. 

You perk up at the sight of new technology. “Oooh, going fancy with us, I see JK. Very future.” 

Jungkook’s grin widens, as it always does when talking about cameras and filmography. “Yes. Future…” He stretches out the word with the exact dips, curls, and croaks the way Squidward does in that one Spongebob episode, which makes you laugh. Jungkook clicks through the video of Yoongi’s set that he’s just recorded, before he clicks the screen off and lowers the camera. “It’ll probably be better if I wait until we get back to look through the footage. I’m sure Yoongi is anxious to get back too…” He looks up towards where Yoongi is supposed to be standing a few feet away, but the younger boy trails off. “Hey, look over there.” He jerks his chin towards Yoongi. “Some guy is talking to him. Do you know him?” 

Furrowing your eyebrows in confusion—none of your college friends had texted saying they were going to come by and listen in on Yoongi’s set—you crane your own neck towards the direction Jungkook is gesturing to. Up ahead, Yoongi is indeed talking to some guy that you don’t recognize so of course it would peak your curiosity. 

It’s a feeling that increases tenfold when Yoongi looks up, seems to find you from his search, and points across the space right at you. There’s even something in his eyes that beg you to walk over to him. This makes your frown deepen, because what the hell is this about? 

. 

Min Yoongi doesn’t allow for too much vocal expression that doesn’t involve the assistance of a keyboard or a music arrangement, but he speaks into the microphone without thinking. “And thank you guys so much for one million subs!” His smile widens as the crowd responds with the claps and cheers of their own—all responding to him and communicating with him. This is it, this is what makes coming out to do these shows all worth it. Obviously there’s a thrill he gets from being in front of a camera and another thrill from uploading a video that people can access from all over the world. But to see the faces of the people who have left positive comments underneath those aforementioned videos… now that’s a completely different kind of feeling he didn’t think he would enjoy so much. 

So Yoongi steps away from the mic to put away his equipment for the day. He only gets so far as to open the case for his microphone and mic holder before he’s hearing his name behind him. Turning around, he is faced with a few unfamiliar and a few familiar fans that are asking him for pictures and a short conversation. He indulges them, of course he does, and he signs a few albums while he’s at it. 

It’s like you always teased him about: he really is a softie for his fans. 

The fan interactions only last for a few minutes, before another voice comes in—it’s a deeper voice and radiates so much confidence and presence that it actually halts the next fan from trying to finish a conversation with Yoongi. All gazes turn towards the source of the voice: it’s a tall man with broad shoulders, pointy boots and a long coat that drapes down, hands stuffed into the pocket of that very coat. He looks like a model. 

The man gives an apologetic smile. “Sorry for interrupting, but I need to request a chat with Mr. Min and am in a bit of a hurry. Do you mind if I cut in for a moment?” 

The fan gives a weak smile. “N-No problem.” 

Yoongi gives his own small smile. “Sorry about that. Oh, here.” He quickly makes a grab for the CD in her hesitant hands, signing his name across the sleek surface. “Thanks for coming by. Have a good rest of the night.” 

Her smile brightens. “Thank you so much!” With a quick little bow, she runs off towards her friends. 

This leaves Yoongi alone with the stranger. “What can I help you with?” 

The stranger extends his arm. “Mr. Min, I’m Kim Seokjin. I’m a music executive. Nice to meet you.” 

Music executive. These two words pique Yoongi’s interest. Just enough. “Wow, uh, nice to meet you sir.” Yoongi can’t help but lower his head slightly in a small bow as he returns Kim Seokjin’s handshake. 

Seokjin waves him off. “Oh, no need to be so formal Mr. Min. I just thought that I should finally come by to introduce myself. I’ve been following your Youtube channel for awhile and think that you’re extremely talented, very capable to be a recording artist, in fact.” 

Yoongi blinks in surprise, completely taken aback by the direction of this conversation. When he came out for his show today, having a conversation with a whole ass music executive hadn’t been on the list of things he was expecting. Of course, it was always a dream of his to be a recording artist. But he thought something like that would always just remain a dream.  “T-Thank you.” 

Seokjin continues. “Honestly, this is the third live performance of yours that I attended. Artists like you who radiate lots of passion and dedication both through the screen and on a stage are pretty rare. But your confidence and presence is quite admirable.” 

At that, Yoongi can’t help but laugh a little. He scratches the back of his neck. “Well, I wouldn’t call this a stage, Mr. Kim, it’s just a small street corner.” 

Seokjin laughs. “Fair enough—but you treat this little street corner like a stage and I find that cool. It appears that that’s what a lot of your fans think as well.” He pauses. “Mr. Min,” He starts up again after a moment. “Have you ever considered becoming a recording artist? Signing with a music label, releasing music and being able to reach millions of people? Having concerts in venues all over the world?” 

At the question, Yoongi utters a scoff of disbelief. “I have,” He acknowledges after a few minutes. “Having this youtube channel and these street performances is amazing…” 

“Of course,” Seokjin replies with a nod. 

“But sometimes I do wonder what it would be like to do more than that. So, to answer your question, I have thought about it before. Many times, in fact.” 

Seokjin nods again. “What if I told you that I was interested in signing you, Mr. Min?” 

Yoongi stares at that, stares and stares with unblinking eyes, one hundred percent of his attention on the man standing in front of him—waiting for the signs, waiting to see the laugh or the glint that gives away his prankster tendencies. But none of those things come. Seokjin just stares right back, challenging him to question him and agree to his claim. 

But Yoongi is younger, more naive, so of course he falls for it. “Why would you want to sign me?” 

Seokjin grins. “Mr. Min, I like to think I’m pretty good at spotting talented people who have a fully fledged career ahead of them—which is something my gut is telling me that you can do. And don’t worry, it’s not just the gut feeling I have. Like I mentioned, I’ve been keeping tabs on you for a few months and I’ve seen the numbers and the turn out. You clearly have what it takes to bring fans in, keep them, and create events that’ll drive their attention—and I want to help you make an opportunity out of that.” 

Yoongi hears the words of the older man, he really does, but he still cannot help the feeling of his head spinning at all the positive things Kim Seokjin says to him. Not only that he believes Yoongi has what it takes to make it, but that Yoongi has the concrete numbers to back that up. He is offering Yoongi an opportunity—an opportunity that seemed much too big for his youtube channel to birth, an opportunity that he had always just written off as nothing more than a dream. Yet for Seokjin to say that it could be more than that? And for all of this to happen on a normal performance night? 

Was Yoongi about to faint right now or what. 

Seokjin takes in Yoongi’s stunned silence and smiles. “I understand that this could be a lot to take in. No worries. I have a card for you to take—so call me when you make up your mind, alright?” He rummages into the pocket of his coat before producing a business card. The name KSJ RECORDS is printed on the surface, shiny lettering in sleek font. 

Yoongi takes it wordlessly. 

“By the way, do you have a manager?” Seokjin asks. “You can have them reach out to me if that’ll make it easier.” 

Yoongi stays quiet for a moment. He doesn’t have a manager; he never really saw the need for one if his schedule was as simple as it was. After all, it was more than enough for him to handle with you—! 

His mind explodes, as if someone had just plugged it into an outlet. His gaze flickers to you, where he sees you now standing just a few feet away next to Jungkook. You’re already staring back at him, but your head tilts slightly as if you could read his internal struggle. Before Yoongi can even figure why he’s looking at you, his body seems to act on its own. His arm raises, finger pointing straight at you. “She’s over there.” 

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, seeming to read something in his gaze that even Yoongi couldn’t figure out. Still, you walk over to them. “What’s going on?” 

Seokjin acts first, turning towards you and giving you a nod in greeting. “Hi there, I’m Kim Seokjin. Yoongi says you’re his manager, is that correct?” 

You blink, caught off guard by the question because you definitely were not Yoongi’s manager. He knows that you know this. You give Yoongi another look, and his eyes widen at you, poorly attempting to transmit a singular message: please. 

You understand immediately, of course you do (you’re his best friend), as you turn back to look at Seokjin. “I am, it’s nice to meet you.” 

The pair of you shake hands. “I was just telling Mr. Min over there that I was interested in signing him to my company. I’m a music executive for KSJ records, and think that he would make a great addition to the team.” 

It takes you a second to process the news, but you do so quicker and much more graceful than Yoongi could ever hope to do. “Oh my gosh, are you serious?” You turn to look at him, bright-eyed. “Yoongi, that’s amazing!” 

“He hasn’t made a decision yet,” Seokjin continues to explain. “I don’t blame him, it’s a lot to process. I just told him that he could have you call me once he made up his mind. Then, contracts could be drawn up.” He pauses for a moment, then seems to scramble on something when you don’t say anything immediately. “Of course, you would remain his manager. I’m sure that he’s gotten as far as he has with your help. I would want you part of Mr. Min’s team regardless.” Seokjin composes himself quickly afterwards. “Like I said, take some time to come to a decision and let me know. Let me give you my card as well.” He mirrors his previous movement at Yoongi towards you now until you have his business card between your fingers. 

“W-Well,” You start, lowering the card and offering up your hand. “Thank you so much for coming by, Mr. Kim. We’ll be sure to send you a response soon.” 

Seokjin takes your hand carefully, giving it a firm shake. “I look forward to hearing from you.” He turns to Yoongi. “And I hope we’ll be able to work together, Mr. Min.” 

Yoongi blinks, but he snaps himself out long enough to return Seokjin’s handshake. “Y-Yes…” He replies, still feeling completely starstruck by what the fuck this encounter had just been. “T-Thank you for stopping by…” He trails off. He stays quiet as he watches Seokjin give one last departing word before he’s turning around and making his way down the street of the city. 

When he regains some of his attention back, he turns to find that you’re already staring at him with an unreadable expression across your face. “Let’s head back,” You say at least, holding up the business card. “We have a lot to talk about.” 

. 

“No way,” Jungkook utters, completely shocked as he practically throws himself onto the couch in the living room. His camera equipment has been set down near the door, too much exhaustion present in its owner for the trudge back into his room. “You got casted today? That’s incredible, hyung!” 

“I-I didn’t even realize what was going on,” Yoongi grumbles back, crossing his arms over his chest. “I still wonder if that moment even happened or if I conjured it up in a strange fever dream.” 

You raise your hand slightly. “I was there. Can confirm that it was real.” You dig the business card out of your pocket and stare down at it. 

Jungkook hikes himself deeper into the couch as he turns on his phone to start scrolling. “I gotta know who this guy is. Kim Seokjin you said? Of KSJ records?” 

“Yeah, KSJ records,” Yoongi replies, looking down at his own business card. “He seemed pretty legit.” 

A whistle from Jungkook confirms that. “Yeah, he’s definitely real. And look at that!” Jungkook turns the phone over to expose the photographs of Seokjin. “Used to be a singer as well. I bet he knows a lot about the industry.” 

Yoongi nods. “He did seem nice.” 

“So, does that mean you’re planning to meet up with him? Get signed and all that jazz?” 

“All that jazz?” Yoongi echoes, but he shakes his head before he could go off on that tangent. “But honestly? Yeah, I’m thinking about it. I really do love youtube and do want to continue that, but I just feel like there’s more for me to explore with the right connections.” 

Jungkook grins. “Wow, I can’t believe my roommate is gonna be famous.” He says the last word with a bite of curl in his tone, flashing a teasing smile when Yoongi merely glares in embarrassment. Jungkook’s eyes flicker further back towards where you are standing in the apartment, calling your name to get your attention. “What do you think of the idea, Miss. Manager?” 

You perk up at that. “Before I get into my answer—when did I suddenly become your manager? I don’t remember us ever having that conversation.” You’re situated in the kitchen, drumming one hand on the counter and using the other hand to stir some last night boxed mac and cheese. 

Yoongi coughs at your observation, sinking himself further down into the couch. “I didn’t want Seokjin to think I was an idiot or something for not having a manager. But when I do officially make up my mind…” He angles his head to stare over at you. “You’ll do it for me, right? You’ll actually be my manager?” 

You frown, hesitant. “You’re serious about asking me? I don’t know anything about being a manager though.” 

Yoongi almost pouts at that, sitting up so he can whirl around completely on the couch to face you. “But you know me and my music career almost better than anyone! And you graduated with a business degree, what do you mean you don’t know anything about being a manager?” 

You flush hotly at that. “It was just a general business degree, Yoongi, it seems like what you need to make it big is a legit artist manager! Someone who will actually know how to schedule your tour dates or keep up with your public image and know exactly how to market you to the general public. You really want me doing that for you?” 

Yoongi gaps at that. “Okay, but who’s the one who literally schedules my street performances and helps me with editing my videos?” 

“Jungkook does some of the editing too,” You grumble underneath your breath. 

“Yah! Stop selling yourself short!” Yoongi interjects, pointing at you accusingly. He does, however, lower his finger long enough to turn and address his roommate. “Not that you don’t help out with any of the editing, Jungkook…” 

Jungkook waves him off. “I know where my talents lie.” 

Yoongi turns back to you. “Besides, Seokjin acknowledged that you and I basically come as a packaged deal. He saw that you were working just as hard to get me my gigs.” 

You give him a one-shouldered shrug, the hesitation still laced in your tone. “I don’t know Yoongi. I just don’t want to fuck up and jeopardize your shot.” 

Yoongi’s attention is one hundred percent focused on you now, so much so that he has made his way into the kitchen and has come so close that he can switch off the stove that held the macaroni and cheese. “Hey, listen, the only reason I’ve even been given a shot was thanks to you. You work just as hard as me to keep my channel up and running—and you already have another job on the side, so you don’t have to do anything for me. But you do.” He plants both his hands on your shoulders and twists you around. “Would you be my manager? Please? I seriously don’t trust anyone else enough to do this for me.” 

You sigh, staring down Yoongi as tensely as he’s staring you down. He sees the flicker of continuing hesitation in your eyes, and responds with just tightening his grip on your shoulders—trying to convey as much pleading as he could to you. Honestly, if you rejected his request, he knows that he wouldn’t be able to do this without you. 

So when you seem to realize that he won’t give up, you sigh and look down for a moment. “Damn that I can never say no to you, Min Yoongi.” 

Hearing those words of confirmation, Yoongi’s gaze hyper focuses on you. Even when you look back over at him, you don’t look away and that merely confirms the unspoken question of your participation. 

When he realizes that you aren’t going to outright reject him, and that you’re actually on board for him, Yoongi’s face lights up as he immediately envelops you into a hug. “Thank you! Thank you—wow, that means a lot to me.” 

You suck in a breath at his words, tensing slightly at his words, but you eventually learn to relax long enough to pat him slowly on the back to return his hug. “Don’t thank me yet,” You grumble into his shoulder. “We haven’t even had a meeting. I may not be able to negotiate as well as you think I can.” 

Yoongi shakes his head at that, tightening his hold on you. From his close proximity to you, he doesn’t notice the way your breath seems to shake and your heart seems to quicken. “It doesn’t matter,” He reassures, finally backing off. “I don’t care if you don’t know how to do all those fancy manager things. Like I said, you’re the only one I could trust to do this.” 

You stare at Yoongi for a few more seconds before you sigh in defeat, knowing that you’ve just put all your thoughts and feelings on the table for him to react to. “Alright then,” You say, placing one of your hands across your chest and onto your shoulder—atop his hand still lingering. “I’ll make the call tomorrow then.” 

Yoongi nods. “Thank you.” 

There’s a brief silence that covers the pair of you, before a voice rings from the living room. “Do you mind bringing the mac and cheese over here?” 

.

.

CHAPTER 2: THE REQUEST 

.

One year later, and you learn that the crowds from Yoongi’s street performances are nothing in comparison to this. This—overwhelming and unmatched in all degrees, the screams and the cries and the shoves, all of it echoes around you just as it has for the past few months. Surprisingly, you’ve always been okay with being a little more firm if the situation called for such and today is absolutely no exception. 

“Off,” You say gently, tapping an outstretched hand trying to get past you and grab at the person behind you. 

The girl you’ve intercepted jerks her hand back as if you’ve burned her, her eyes wide and vaguely hurt as if you’ve singled her out specifically from this crowd. Rather, it’s more along the lines of keeping your client safe and trying to avoid the incident from last week. You block the memory out for the time being. 

You feel a hot breath at your ear. “If you make my fans cry, I swear—!” 

“Try to be less desirable then,” You bite back over your shoulder, holding up your hand when another fan tries to shove a sharpie past you. “Sorry, but we’re in a bit of a rush,” You say to the boy. “Come to the next concert—we’ll have a meet and greet then too.” 

The boy deflates, but that expression only lasts for a second before he seems to brighten slightly at whatever has just occurred behind you. Stealing a glance, you realize it’s because Min Yoongi has just thrown him an apologetic wink. 

The car appears in view a lot quicker than you had been anticipating, which is good as you muster all your energy to pull the handle that opens the car door. You step off to the side, further cutting off the fans who are trying to keep Yoongi from entering the vehicle. Soon enough, a taller and more dominating figure appears next to you as Yoongi manages to slide his way into the back seat. You and Jungkook exchange a nod—you had been in the front of Yoongi’s protection squad and he had been in the back, and the arrangement continues to work wonders. As long as Yoongi doesn’t lose a whole sleeve (like last time) then you would consider this departure a success. 

Jungkook tilts his head towards the still opened car door, allowing you to enter the car yourself. As soon as you’re settled, Jungkook leans forward to join you. He slides his way into the seat all the way in the back of the car. Closing the door behind him, you signal Taehyung to take off with a nod into the rearview mirror. 

The screams and calls of Yoongi’s name are loud, and pass through the metal structure of the car as if it is nothing. But you know that the boy doesn’t mind, and that he lives and breathes moments like these as he has for the past few months. 

It’s crazy to think how much a year could change, after you and Yoongi decided to meet up with Seokjin to discuss how Yoongi was going to be signed under KSJ records. Seokjin had talked about the big plans he had in pushing Yoongi towards the spotlight—and goals like an album, a concert, and meet-and-greets around the country had been promised for Yoongi’s first year. 

And of course, Yoongi was completely enchanted by the promises. Just one final ‘of course’ confirmation to have you as his manager, and Yoongi was signing on the dotted line. Truth be told, you didn’t know what KSJ records would have in store for Yoongi—how long that glimmer of passion would remain in the boy’s eyes. 

A year later, and you acknowledge that you might have underestimated Kim Seokjin. As a former performer, he knew all the ins and outs of the music industry and his well established connections as well as his good ear for good music meant that Yoongi was allowing his music to get the treatment it deserved. Pair that with Yoongi’s growing popularity on Youtube, and it all equates to an EP that debuts with tens of thousands of copies sold within the first week. The EP itself hadn’t been much—just six songs that contained a mix of old songs and new songs, but all written by Yoongi. His previous (although small) experience with producing and arrangement allowed him constant access into the various studios at KSJ records, where he learned from all the other producers on how to make good music.

The hands-on, personal touch Seokjin allowed Yoongi to deliver in his music had been a good call and a large contributor to the success of the EP. You recall fans praising the album and talking about how it matched Yoongi’s youtube aesthetic perfectly, but just with the higher quality element that top notch equipment could bring to music. 

In a way, the current atmosphere of concerts and meet-and-greets is just a way to celebrate the success of Yoongi’s music career launching off into the stratosphere. 

“Hey.” There’s a gentle tap against your head, and you jump before turning to face Yoongi in the seat next to you. “You good?” 

You blink, bringing your finger up to brush the hair out of your face. “Yeah, just spaced out.” 

“Cool. I thought you might have fallen asleep.” 

“If anyone should have fallen asleep by now, it’s you,” You point out. “I think that today’s meet-and-greet was the largest one you’ve had so far.” 

“Don’t worry,” Yoongi says. “I have every intention of following asleep as soon as I fall into bed. Plus, don’t let me hold a pen for the next week—I think my wrist almost fell off.” 

You laugh, angling yourself so you can face him. “But you love it, don’t you?” 

Yoongi’s gaze softens as he lets your question sink in. “Course I do. I never realized how cool it would be to have an audience sing my lyrics back to you. More than that, it was all lyrics I used to write in the apartment, or in between lectures back at college, or late into the night on my phone… back when the idea of all this was just a dream.” He pivots his body towards you, eyes bright as the passion for his current place in life seems to have gotten him hyped up again. “You know, during the meet and greet, this girl came up to me all confidently and told me that my album got her through a tough time. I think that’s when it really hit me that this was all happening.” 

The corner of your lips quirk up into a smile. “Oh yeah, I actually do remember you writing those songs and you showing me the lyrics. You speak from the heart, and your fans understand that. Helps that you’re pretty cute too. Anyone with eyes could see that.” As soon as those words escape your lips, you almost want to chide yourself and immediately throw yourself out of the car. Why would you say something like that—why would you openly admit to Yoongi’s cuteness? Your face grows warm at the realization, leaving you to hope that Yoongi won’t notice your flustered state. 

Yoongi doesn’t notice. He’s too busy gawking at your observation, too busy tearing his gaze away from you to stare firmly out of the car window. 

Jungkook simply shifts his gaze between the two of you. 

In the midst of the silence, you fish out your phone and start scrolling through your social media pages. Due to the third party cookie ads that follow you around, you immediately notice news of Yoongi’s concert of the day has started hitting various news sites—most articles praising Yoongi on his song selections and live adaptations of his music to suit the concert style more. Reading these articles leave you unable to stop the grin, because Yoongi deserves this so fucking much that you could have sworn your heart sings a little as you continue reading. 

It’s a moment that lasts for only a couple of seconds, as recommended articles start coming up that do well in setting up the gray cloud. With the increased amount of attention that comes from being a newly top rated best selling album artist, so does the intrusion into personal life that follows—the dark side of the media, the side that just loves to stick its nose in places it does not belong. It’s something that you had been seeing since Yoongi’s youtube account hit five hundred thousand, but at the time these kinds of questions were more dark shadows or curious inquiries taken in the form of casual comments. 

Now, those questions have become much more normalized, as a common curiosity seems to have taken form from all these drama articles: was Min Yoongi dating anyone? And even better: who is Min Yoongi writing all his love songs for? 

As if love was limited to romantic relationships, and wasn’t a feeling one could recreate from other love songs or romantic comedies. Or just the feelings of growing up. 

“We’re here!” Taehyung calls from the front seat, as you jump up from your train of thought. Refocusing on your surroundings, you realize that you’ve made it into the parking lot of the hotel. 

You sigh, regathering your belongings that have moved around during the drive. “Thanks, Taehyung.” 

“Hey.” Taehyung utters for you to come closer to him as soon as the pair of you step out of the car. He jerks toward Yoongi, who is exiting from his side of the car before quickly side-stepping to let Jungkook come out as well. “Was that flirting back there?” 

You protest hotly at once, your hand raising up and wave side-to-side frantically in complete denial. “N-No, it wasn’t—!” 

“Okay, good,” Taehyung interrupts, leaning back to stuff his hands into his pants pockets. “Because if that was the case I think we would have had to re-evaluate your definition of flirting—!” 

“Will you stop?” You squeak. 

“Is everything okay?” Yoongi asks, having rounded around the car to stare over at you and Taehyung. 

You whirl around quickly, tightening up your expression once more to make sure that any remnants of your conversation with Taehyung would be undetected. “Yep!” You say immediately. “Everything is fine. Let’s get going, yeah?” You allow Jungkook to lead the four of you out of the parking lot and into the elevator that’ll take you to the main floor of the hotel room. Yoongi has to slip on a pair of glasses and a baseball cap, just on the off chance that a fan might be staying in the same room—it happened a few stops ago—before the four of you are making your way through the lobby. The four of you have reserved four separate rooms for your overnight stay in the city, rooms that you have already checked into earlier that day, so it feels nice to just make your way to the elevator and select the correct floor. 

Taehyung decides to check in first for the night, waving you all off and congratulating Yoongi on another well done performance. Jungkook lingers around as you make your way to Yoongi’s room next. 

“Thanks for walking me,” Yoongi says, sliding the key card into the slot and pulling out when he hears the beep of confirmation on his door. 

Jungkook flashes him a thumbs up. “Good show today. Now get some rest.” 

Yoongi nods, just about to close the door when you make a sudden noise from the back of your throat. “OH!” You call out suddenly, startling both boys as you reach your arm out suddenly to prevent Yoongi from closing the door. He had been so close too. “Sorry, I just realized. Seokjin sent me an email of some deadlines he wanted me to go over with you. Your sleep is gonna have to be put on hold.” 

Yoongi grumbles something under his breath. 

You turn to look at Jungkook. “We’ll be fine, Jungkook, go rest up—you deserve it.” 

Jungkook nods, grinning at Yoongi. “See you guys around.” 

“No fair…” Yoongi pouts as he watches Jungkook stroll down the hall to reach his hotel room. “Why do they get to rest and I don’t? I’m so tired…” 

“Well, this is the price of fame,” You retort with the shrug of your shoulders. “You have your face the paparazzi want to see, and the name that sells the albums. Naturally, it means you just have to put in more work than everyone else.” 

Yoongi runs a hand through his hair, still pouting but less so as he opens the door once more for the both of you to enter. “When you put it that way…” 

You giggle behind him. “For the fans, Min Yoongi.” 

You immediately task yourself with throwing yourself atop his bed, surprisingly put together despite the fact that you had checked everyone in earlier that day. You would have assumed he would have taken a nap. But the bed doesn’t look slept in at all. 

Yoongi notices your observation immediately. “I was too nervous to fall asleep earlier today,” He provides, taking a seat on the couch on the other side of the room. “So what was it that Seokjin needed you to go over with me?” 

“It’s short, I promise,” You reassure, pulling out the iPhone from your pocket. As soon as you unlock the device, you’re faced with the articles you had previously been looking up—the ones about Yoongi’s dating life. Without meaning to, you sigh heavily at the sight. 

Yoongi quirks an eyebrow. “What’s up?” 

You jerk up. “Oh, no, nothing sorry. I just��” You hold the phone up for Yoongi to see. “These articles about you and your dating life—it’s getting worse.” 

“Oh.” Yoongi’s fingers fiddle with each other. “Yeah, I’ve seen a few of those floating around too. Honestly, for someone who writes a lot of songs about love, these curiosities don’t really surprise me. I wish that they wouldn’t be so intrusive.” 

“Unfortunately, people always think it’s their right to know who these love songs are for.” You spare him a quick glance, only to realize that he’s already staring at you. Hastily, you look back down. “If the songs are even for anyone, that is.” 

Yoongi is quiet for a moment. “Right.” 

“Anyways…” You exit your internet app, tapping through until Seokjin’s email comes up. “Seokjin just wants to know your progress on the new songs. He’s trying to gauge your progress so he can see whether or not to arrange studio time for you to start recording.” 

The new songs—it’s a reference to Seokjin’s next plan for Yoongi’s career. With the launch of the EP and the current success that it has been harboring, it makes sense that the next step would be to launch a full-length album. Technically it could be called a repackage, since the album would most likely feature a few songs from the EP and cover the rest of the spots with new music. 

But aforementioned new music takes time to write, not that Yoongi ever had a problem with writing music. That has always been second nature for him—and was something he could do anywhere so long as he had a functioning, conscious mind. It was all just a matter of whether or not he could create the required number of actual songs within the scheduled deadline. With those higher expectations, time definitely plays the biggest issue and it makes sense if Yoongi couldn’t write proper songs given the current circumstances. 

Nonetheless, Yoongi nods at the question. “I actually have rough drafts of most of the songs, if that was okay with Seokjin. We could probably schedule some meetings to polish up the writing, since a lot of them are still in the beginning stage.” 

You blink at his answer, surprised by his response. You had been expecting one, or maybe two songs to be written out but to have all eight songs written out? “W-Wow…” You utter. “You wrote so many songs so quickly.” 

Yoongi shrugs, but he does look a little prideful at your words. You don’t notice his lingering gaze. “I have a lot to reflect on, what can I say.” 

“I-I mean,” You stammer, not really hearing his response. “I could schedule the meeting with Seokjin, but if he knows that you have everything basically done, he’ll probably be okay with giving you a little more time to polish up your work yourself.” 

Yoongi ponders this, but he shakes his head. “No, go ahead and schedule the meeting. It’s actually nice having extra hands in the music.” 

You nod. “Alright then, I’ll go and do that. I think I should also just go over tomorrow’s schedule with you.” Quickly, you relay the time details of what tomorrow’s day will look like since you’re flying out for another show the next morning. You give him some details about the stage, how many people are going, and how many people he will be meeting afterwards. It’s a standard review conversation, one of the many that you’ve had with Yoongi over the year. “And… that should be it,” You wrap up as soon as you’ve reviewed the day. Looking over the schedule once more, you cannot help but sigh once more. 

“What is it this time?” Yoongi asks from the side. 

“Oh, no nothing!” You reassure with a promising smile. “Just another busy day.” 

Yoongi gives you a grin, but you can see the exhaustion clinging to the corner of his eyes. “There’s only a few more stops left of the concert—what happened to you being positive rock?” 

At that, you laugh nervously. “Sorry, sorry. You’re right.” You clench a fist in front of him and pump it up to showcase a display of energy. “Another day of excitement and one more day towards fulfilling your dreams!” You lower your fist and give him a slightly dryer look. “How was that?” 

“I could have done without the look at the end, but it’ll do, I guess.” Yoongi stands up from his place on the couch and throws himself atop his bed. His head ends up near you, his back on the mattress, and his feet dangling off the side. “There’s only a few stops left of the tour, and for some people this is their first time seeing me live. And for other people, maybe they saw me back when I would perform on the streets, so in that case it’s their first time seeing me perform on a stage and everything!” He lifts one of his hands up into his field of view. “Either way, I just want to do the best I can for the people that take time out to come see me and support me. Because I owe them everything—I owe them more than what I can give them.” 

You don’t say anything to that. What could you say, anyways? Instead, you reach over and run your fingers through his hair. After a second, you retract your hand. You shouldn’t let yourself linger for too long anyways. “It’s late,” You say, a tone of finality in your voice. “I should head to my room. I’ll make sure to let Seokjin know your update.” You slide off the bed into a standing position. “You should get some rest.” You turn to him. “You may not think you can pay back your fans, but you probably help them out every single day. The same way they help you out too.” 

Yoongi tilts his head back to see you. Upside down, but still look at you nonetheless. He grins. “There’s that positive energy I was looking for. Thanks.” 

You laugh, already making your way towards his hotel room door. “Thank me by giving me another kickass performance tomorrow. Makes my job a whole lot easier.” 

. 

The following weeks of concert tours pass by without a hitch. To Yoongi, any event now that doesn’t end up with a torn sleeve and nail scratches up and down his arm is a success. And you haven’t freaked out for the remaining dates as you had when security had been at its worst—so he’d consider that the icing on top of the cake. Although he’s glad to finally be be home and be anchored to his own bed and be in his own space for the first time in months, he knows that his first concert experience to celebrate his first EP had truly been a memorable undertaking. 

And it had been more successful than anyone at KSJ records could have predicted. At least, that’s what Seokjin tells him when Yoongi arrives at the studio the following day to start going through the process of polishing up his song lyrics. 

“It seems that you really enjoyed yourself throughout the tour,” Seokjin remarks as Yoongi steps into the former’s office. Seokjin is scrolling through some articles on his laptop. He closes it as Yoongi takes a seat and regards the younger boy with a look of curiosity and wonder. “How was it?” 

Yoongi brightens. “So much fun. I didn’t realize how cool it would feel to have audience members sing song lyrics right back at me, but that was probably my favorite moment.” 

“Ah, of course, first time for everything as they always say.” Seokjin folds his fingers atop one another. “And how was your team?” He says your name, given that you are Yoongi’s manager. “Along with Jungkook and Taehyung? I wish I could have given you more people, but we didn’t know how crazy moving you around was going to be.” 

Yoongi nods. “I mean… it was fine. Jungkook was really good.” He can’t help but think that Jungkook should have been good—after all, Yoongi is the reason why Jungkook has been getting safe with job security recently. “And Taehyung too. I think having the small team was good because we ended up all getting really connected and had this whole system in place after a few stops.” 

“I heard a fan tore your sleeve,” Seokjin points out, looking mildly concerned. “How did that go?” 

“Oh, it was just a one time thing,” Yoongi tries to brush off with the wave of his hand. He thinks of you, because of course he does. He mentions you. “She would tap the fans who were getting too close. It was reassuring, honestly.” 

“That’s good to hear,” Seokjin says. “And I’ve heard that you’ve been making a lot of headway with the upcoming album. So we’re definitely gonna set some time for us to go through the lyrics and structure what you’ve come up with already. But I did want to go over something with you first—the main reason I called you in, actually.” 

Yoongi tilts his head. “Okay, what’s up?” 

Seokjin re-opens his laptop, and clicks through a few links before he’s pivoting the laptop in a 180 degree motion so Yoongi can see the screen. At once, he’s faced with several articles, all centering around the topic that has been haunting him since the beginning of his concert journey. He gets a flashback to one of the nights you came into his hotel room to discuss scheduling, and how you had mentioned this particular topic showing up more and more.

Yoongi had known it was becoming a problem. He just didn’t think it was something that required urgent discussion. 

“As I’m sure you’re aware, your growing popularity means that people are developing a growing interest in your relationship. Since you are labeled specifically as a song-writer who writes songs about growing up, struggles, and love, this only heightens people’s curiosity.” 

Yoongi allows Seokjin to continue talking, as he moves forward in his chair to actually scroll through one of the articles Seokjin has pulled up. It’s entitled: UP AND COMING SINGER SONGWRITER MIN YOONGI IS DEFINITELY IN A RELATIONSHIP, BUT WITH WHO? As he scrolls down, there’s several people that are listed as potential girlfriends to Yoongi’s partnership—some people he does not know at all, some people he has only seen once. 

You’re on the list too, and Yoongi’s eyes widen when he identifies your picture amongst the lot. He zeroes in on the description underneath the simple title: Yoongi’s manager? Although most manager and artist relationships are platonic, we can’t leave this one out! Fans have tracked down Min Yoongi’s current manager as an old assistant from Min Yoongi’s youtube days, so there’s definitely some history between them! 

“This article has been blowing up. You may or may not know, but people making assumptions about your relationship status could be dangerous. Since you write songs about relationships, it leaves a lot of room for error and scandals, especially if news sites decide to publish something or someone else with bad intentions try to claim you wrote a song about them. Or something else of the sort.” 

Yoongi nods slowly at that, not entirely understanding what direction Seokjin is going with his build up. It makes sense though. Leaving Yoongi out in the open like this could be dangerous for his career. “S-So, what ideas do you have to combat that?” 

“I’ve been thinking about this in the recent weeks you’ve been on tour,” Seokjin says quietly, pressing his hands together. “I think that we should push your relationship status into the public—get you a girlfriend to maintain your ‘pure romantic heart’ reputation so it looks like you’re writing love songs solely for your girlfriend.” 

It takes a second for the words to sink in. “Aaaaah,” Yoongi finally says, but his voice sounds far away all of a sudden, the further time seems to creep on. Sure, he’s seen this concept of surface relationships between in film and television—and the idea of it makes some sense. For someone whose best songs were related to moments of being in love, surely most people would suspect that the inspiration for those songs had to come from somewhere. If Yoongi came out to admit his lack of relationship experience, would people approve of that? Or would they think he was lying? 

In that regard then, it makes sense that Seokjin would come up with the idea. But faking a relationship for the sake of faking a relationship has never been something Yoongi thought he would ever have to go through. 

Mainly because first of all—who would play Yoongi’s girlfriend? 

Now, Yoongi isn’t the worst actor in the world. But he can be stiff at times, and if Seokjin wants to push a relationship status into the public eye then Yoongi imagines that this girlfriend would be someone Yoongi felt the most natural around. Someone he wouldn’t mind pretending to be in a relationship with. 

Would Yoongi even get a say in the matter? Or would Yoongi’s approval be the only requirement before Seokjin went off to find a girlfriend for Yoongi himself?

“D-Did you have someone in mind?” Yoongi finds himself asking instead. 

Seokjin hums, tapping his chin with his finger. “Not at the moment. I just wanted to bring it up with you in case you had an idea for someone.” Mindlessly, he reaches to take back the laptop and flip it back towards him. This exposes him to the article Yoongi had been previously scrolling through—one where pictures of you are plastered over the current screen. 

At the sight, Seokjin wavers slightly, staring down your pictures and furrowing his eyebrows. Yoongi looks over, noticing immediately that the laptop (and the pictures of you from that article) is no longer right in front of him but rather in front of Seokjin instead. When he glances over at Seokjin, he finds the older man lost in thought, running the side of his finger across his lip. Back and forth, clearly pondering something. 

“Yes…” Seokjin says after a moment. “That could work, actually.” He looks across the desk at Yoongi. “Good idea, Yoongi. I think originally, I would have said no, but these pictures and this description actually makes a valid point.” 

Yoongi blinks, not really connecting the dots right away. “Uh, sorry, Seokjin, but I’m not really following…” 

Seokjin makes a noise, gesturing to his laptop screen that he has just gotten back from Yoongi. “You were suggesting Y/N as your fake girlfriend, weren’t you? I’m assuming that’s why you stopped on these pictures. My initial thought was that it probably wouldn’t work, but actually considering your history with each other it seems like this could be the most likely case scenario.” 

It takes another second for the information to fully process. You. His fake girlfriend. Seokjin misunderstanding that unintentionally stopping on your pictures meant that Yoongi was trying to convey some sort of message. 

You—playing the role of his fake girlfriend, the ‘supposed’ inspiration for all his music. It would be funny if it wasn’t so ironic. 

It would be funny if you didn’t inspire all of his music—but you do. And Yoongi isn’t laughing.  

He should say something. He knows that it would make sense, as Seokjin is claiming, but it would also potentially inch him towards a can of worms he has been so sure would never see the sunlight. More than that, having you as his fake girlfriend would bring him the closest he has ever been to feeling hopeful. 

He really should say something. 

But for some reason, the words don’t come out. He just lets Seokjin believe his ingenious plan. “Yes, yes!” Seokjin continues after the many moments of silence that lapse between the two of you. “This could work actually. You guys have known each other for years, and older fans of yours from the youtube days would definitely recognize Y/N. That way, the announcement of your relationship wouldn’t seem entirely out of line, especially if we say that you guys have been dating for years. It also makes sense that we could say you becoming Yoongi’s ‘manager’ was always part of a cover up—after all, that’s what they did in that movie That Thing You Do…” 

The more Seokjin drones on and on about his plan, and how exactly he intends to work up to it, the more nervous Yoongi gets. Was Seokjin actually planning on doing this—enlist you as Yoongi’s fake girlfriend and drag you along to participate in this facade? Yoongi is mildly shocked. He should have known Seokjin would follow through on the question, but he had just assumed that today was just the idea phase and that plans to arrange this fake relationship would take weeks. 

But if there’s anything Yoongi knows about Seokjin, it’s that the man knows how to get something done. Quickly, too. In Seokjin’s word, it’s a natural occurrence for a simple idea phase to morph into actual concrete plans within the time span of a day. Yoongi should have planned this out better—but then again, he didn’t think that him accidentally stopping on a picture of you from a fucking drama article would serve as the catalyst for Seokjin’s ideas. 

Yoongi straightens up onto his feet. “Why don’t I talk to Y/N first about this?” He asks. “The idea may seem good on paper, but if she’s uncomfortable then it’s a no go.” 

Seokjin studies Yoongi carefully, before the former relents. “Okay, fair enough. Let me know what happens.” 

As soon as the pair of them exchange the last nods, Yoongi is dashing out of Seokjin’s office with one clear objective in mind: to talk to you. 

Luckily, you aren’t too far away. You’re in your office, typing up something on your laptop and your eyes scanning through what he can only assume are emails. It’s eyes that widen when Yoongi practically storms into your space, shutting the door behind him. 

You straighten up. “Yoongi, you alright? You look like you just ran a marathon.” 

Yoongi doesn’t even realize that his chest is heaving until you point that out. He coughs. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Didn’t run a marathon though.” 

Your eyebrows furrow, but the corner of your lips turn up in mild curiosity. “Okay. What’s up?” 

Yoongi presses his lips together. Even with the many feet of space between the two of you—he can make out the glimmer in your eyes from the sunlight pouring through the window, he can see the shadow of your eyelashes and the line where your collarbone dips below your blouse. Fuck, he’s in deep. There’s no way he could ask you something so monumental to the downfall of his sanity. But he knows that it’s too late to just walk away. Partly because he’s already in your office and partly because the idea has already been planted into Seokjin’s head. And if Yoongi didn’t speak up, then Seokjin was going to. 

So Yoongi opens his mouth. “I may or may not have gotten you into a situation,” He starts up. 

You snort, of course not taking him seriously. “That might just be the summary of our relationship.” 

“No, I don’t think you understand…” Yoongi pleads, stepping deeper into the office. 

You frown at his behavior, closing your laptop this time to address him completely. “Okay, what’s up, really? You’re kind of scaring me…” 

“Oh, don’t worry, it’s not… scary or anything…” He trails off. 

You raise an eyebrow. “Let me be the judge of that.” 

So Yoongi shoves his hands deep into his coat pocket, and slides next to your desk, leaning against the surface as he starts his story. He covers everything: from Seokjin bringing up the drama articles about his relationship status, how he had scrolled through and saw your name, how Seokjin had misinterpreted that as a sign, and worse of all, how Seokjin thought it would be a good idea for you to play as Yoongi’s fake girlfriend. 

To say you’re appalled would be an understatement. You’re staring up at him, eyes wide and lips parted. “Are you serious?” You ask. “B-But I’m your manager!” You scoff at yourself. “No, more than that—I’m your friend, Yoongi. Seokjin must be on something. He has to be. What did you guys decide on? Please tell me that you said no.” 

“W-Well, there was no agreement or disagreement,” Yoongi argues weakly. “I walked out before Seokjin could make up his mind.” He pauses for a moment, something sinking in. “Wait a minute,” He brings up, a slightly teasing smile across his face. “Do you really find the idea of dating me that gross?” 

You make a noise in the back of your throat at his accusation, and you immediately begin to scramble. “I-I mean,” You start, the flush present in your throat as you start speaking very quickly at once. Both your hands go up in a defensive position. “It’s not that I don’t find you gross… because I don’t! You’re a very attractive person—it’s just that—we’re friends and—stop looking at me like that!” You stand up, slamming your palms onto the table when you realize that he’s just flashing you a shit-eating grin. 

He has half the mind to be mildly disheartened that you are so against the idea of dating him. But then again, he’d probably say no to fake dating you if he was being forced into a situation like this. He’d definitely say no. 

Okay, he’d probably say no. 

“Well, I told Seokjin that if you were uncomfortable with the idea, then it’d be a no go and he seemed to respect the idea.” 

Still standing, you sigh and press your face into the palm of your hand. Your fingers brush through your hair. “Okay, let’s step back for a moment.” You remove your hands from your face. “If I were to say yes, what exactly would that entail?” 

Yoongi manages a weak one-shouldered shrug. “I’m not sure exactly. Seokjin would probably have a better idea of that. I imagine KSJ records would release a statement about our relationship, and we would be scheduled to go to variety shows or press interviews together. We’d probably have to go out to restaurants together too. Hold hands…” The thought of holding your hand dries up his throat a little, but he passes it off well by faking a cough. “That sort of stuff.” 

You glare at him. “And what about your fans? You’re trying to preserve this ‘pure romantic heart’ image, but I’m sure there’s a lot of fans that like to believe the songs could be about them.” 

He shrugs. “That—I’m not too sure about. I imagine Seokjin prefers the idea of my fans believing that my heart only belongs to one person rather than them believing that I’ll just write a love song for anyone.” 

You nod. “That’s valid, I guess.” 

Yoongi stares at you from the smaller space of distance between the two of you. “Again, you don’t have to say yes. Frankly, I think it’s a batshit crazy idea.” 

“It’s not… completely out of line.” After a moment, you sigh. “I can actually understand why Seokjin would get the idea of trying to set you up like this. The news articles will probably get worse. And since your songs market themselves on being personal, people want to know who the songs are about. If Seokjin gave the public a face, then there’d be no room for assumptions and even less room for scandals to come about.” You give him a look. “Sadly, if you were to stay single, there’s only so much I could do as your manager to control that bad press.” 

Yoongi raises both his eyebrows up. “Does that mean you’re saying yes—?” 

“I’m not… saying anything yet.” You plop yourself back down into your seat. “I’m not saying yes. But I’m not saying no either.” You sink further into your seat. “Hopefully Seokjin will change his mind before I have to make up mine?” 

That’s an unlikely case. But Yoongi doesn’t argue with you, and you don’t wait for him to. He simply nods one more time before leaving your office. 

.

You would be lying if you said you never thought about dating Yoongi. Of course you have. You’re sure that you’ve had a crush on the boy within the first week of your introductions. This crush explains so many of your past actions—your support for his Youtube channel, your fulfillment as his manager, and now this pull towards agreeing to become his fake girlfriend. And you hate yourself for the every second you consider it a good idea. 

Because it’s not a good idea. It’s a terrible idea. More than that, it’s an unfair idea. Agreeing to fake date someone you actually want to date seems like too cruel a hand to be dealt. Considering your more-often-than-not fragile state, setting yourself up with Yoongi in this way already seems doomed to fail. It would be unfair to Yoongi, because agreeing to this would deprive him of an actual relationship he could be happy in. But it would be more unfair to you, because losing control would mean losing your best friend. 

So you don’t give Yoongi a positive confirmation. But you don’t give him a negative one either. See, you don’t have the heart to just outwardly reject him, because you know that he needs you to help him with this. You know that he understands the situation he’s been put in, and that getting a fake girlfriend seems to be the best case scenario. You know that it wouldn’t make sense with any other girl—it had to be you. Saying no straight to face is something that you don’t have the heart to do. 

Rather than give a yes or no answer, you opt for the second best option: hold off and avoid indulging too deeply. 

It’s a strategy that works for a grand total of one day. 

The following day post Yoongi’s conversation, you show up to work with information that Yoongi is going to start recording songs for his new album. His first full-length album, at that—something he has been working hard for since the beginning. Every second of free time available to him during the tour, during off-days had been dedicated to writing the music necessary to fill the album. You know how hard he’s been working—you’ve watched throughout the duration of his tour, and spoke to him for many nights about the progression of this album. 

You just didn’t think that the recording part would be coming around so soon. 

This is a thought you reflect to Seokjin when you enter the recording studio. Yoongi is already behind the glass, and his voice is amplified in the studio, where they appear to be discussing the arrangement for how a song is going to go. This leaves you vaguely surprised—if Yoongi is in the booth already, it means that there must have been some ground covered on how the arrangement was supposed to go. Just how long has Yoongi been in the studio before you showed up? 

“Ah, good morning,” Seokjin greets from the back of the studio, seated on the couch and his arms resting along the back. “Don’t get mad, but Yoongi worked through the night again.” 

Your lips part into a gape as your eyes widen in disbelief. “Please tell me you’re joking,” You return. 

Seokjin merely laughs in return. “I wish I was! When I left, he was going at it with Namjoon and when I came back this morning they were still going at it. But, you know, who am I to rain in on a breakthrough moment?” 

You relent your control of the situation slightly (only slightly) at Seokjin’s rhetorical question. Namjoon is one of Seokjin’s top producers and arrangers—very gifted in songwriting and how to make a good song. From the year that you and Yoongi have been a part of KSJ records, Yoongi and Namjoon have gotten along great and their close relationship has been the reason for many late nights. The pair of them were always caught in the drift of making sleepless but record-selling hits. 

Like Seokjin said, who are you to interrupt art in progress? 

Although you have a sudden flurry of desires and objectives (mainly to reprimand Yoongi for being so careless with a slap or a hit where you could put him to sleep yourself), you bite it down long enough to shed your jacket and rest it on the armrest of the couch. “Fine, fine, I’ll let it go this time.” 

Seokjin chuckles at that, removing his gaze from you and sliding it across the studio back into the booth where Yoongi is still in the midst of discussing something with Namjoon. Something about how the arrangement isn’t as smooth or on beat as they had originally intended. “You’re a good manager,” He says at last. “I can tell that you really do care about him and will definitely give him a peace of your mind once he’s done with today’s session. And what’s more…” He laughs. “He’ll actually let you walk all over him. You’d be surprised how often I see managers in it just for the money, where they don’t have their artist’s best interest in mind. You’re definitely not like that.” 

You slide into the vacant seat next to Seokjin. “If I don’t keep an eye on him, I know that no one else will. It’s nothing against other people, but no one else in his life is as involved in his career as I am. But I’m his friend first, and his manager second.” 

The pair of you are quiet for a moment, as you watch Namjoon fiddle with some of the switches on the music panel. They seem to come to an agreement on the newly modified beat, because it starts playing through the speakers in the booth. Yoongi presses his hands against the headphones he’s wearing, and starts to relay the lyrics into the microphone. It starts off slow—Yoongi has his phone in his hands to read the lyrics, to double check the flow and the tempo. After a few lines, he stops. “Ah—let’s reword this line. I do like the change we made to the music, so let’s change the lyrics to match.” His voice is amplified through the studio. 

Namjoon presses a button on the music panel, allowing him to communicate with Yoongi. “Sure. Want to head in and make the changes?” 

Yoongi ponders this for a moment, but shakes his head. “Give me a second. Maybe if I listen to the song again, I can feel what I vibe with.” 

“Sounds good.” Namjoon releases his hold on the button, and turns around in his chair to face you and Seokjin. The sight of you makes his eyes widen, as Namjoon coughs back a choke. “O-Oh, Y/N, you’re here—!” 

His words make you narrow your eyes as you point a finger at him. “YAH! Which one of you was it that contributed to your all-nighter?” 

“I don’t know, I don’t know!” Namjoon protests, raising both of his hands up in defense. “We were both in the groove!” 

You lower your finger with a sigh. “You’re lucky that you’re in the middle of helping Yoongi achieve his dreams. Otherwise I’d kick both of your asses.” 

Namjoon seems to realize that you’re not messing around, because he emits a nervous laugh. “I promise we’ll be a little more careful next time…” 

“Oh, Namjoon, I rewrote some of the lines!” Yoongi calls from inside the booth. 

Namjoon whirls around in his chair again to press the button. “Sounds good, let’s do it.” 

As the music starts up again, Seokjin decides to speak up once more. “Yoongi told me that he talked to you about the little fake dating plan I had.” 

The mention of it, as well as your previous internal insistence of not talking or thinking about that, makes you stiffen. “He might have mentioned something like that.” 

When you turn to look at Seokjin, he has an unreadable look glinting in his eyes. “Since you were talking about achieving Yoongi’s dreams and all…” He trails off. “I wanted to apologize for bringing that idea onto you so quickly. I didn’t really consider how you’d feel about the arrangement. I just wanted to try and do what I thought was best for Yoongi.” 

You sigh. “I know why you thought of the idea. And I totally agree with you—I think that if he wants to carry on, this is the least costly next step that should be taken. I just… I don’t know if I’m the best fit for it.” 

Seokjin nods. “I respect your decision. After all, Yoongi told me that if you were uncomfortable with it, then it’d be an immediate no go.” 

The corner of your lips turns up upon hearing Yoongi’s thought process. Even though you’ve already heard the words from the man himself—it’s nice to hear that assurance from his boss. Knowing that Yoongi puts your thoughts and feelings on the forefront of his mind is a nice feeling. A misleading feeling if you let yourself think too deeply into it. But a nice feeling, nonetheless. 

You decide not to comment immediately on Seokjin’s apology; rather, you tune into what exactly Yoongi is singing about in the song. It’s got a softer beat to it—an opening song to the album, perhaps? It’s much more whimsy compared to his hard-hitting personal rants that touch on the frustration of miscommunication, of not saying something when he should have said something. 

Instead, this is a song about distance—about missing someone due to distance and the longing of returning home because of the normality it brought. About how even closeness sometimes isn’t enough to fill the gap of desire in his heart. It takes on a beat you’ve never heard before, and a feeling of missing something that isn’t even tangible for you as a listener. Nevertheless, his words, his raspiness, and the hard lines hidden within the otherwise soft tone of the song work hard to poke at your edges and your weak spots. The parts of you that have always been willing to cave for Yoongi, the part of you that has never hesitated to do what needed to be done if it benefited Yoongi. 

You were his manager, so you always want what’s best for him. But you’re also a friend who has been in love with him for years, so you will do whatever it takes to get him there. 

You hope you don’t regret this.

“Actually,” You admit quietly, but it’s loud enough to perk Seokjin’s attention. “I’ll do it.” 

Seokjin blinks, clearly trying to process your words right off the bat. “You’ll…” He trails off.

You look away. You have a feeling that if Seokjin looks at you for too long, he’ll see your emotions spill out across the entire fucking studio. “Do the fake dating idea.” 

Seokjin fumbles a little. “H-Hold on a second—are you sure? Seriously, I’m not trying to pressure you or anything. Since you’re the one least adjusted to being in the spotlight, a lot of this pressure is going to fall onto you. I don’t want you to say yes and then regret it later on… so maybe you should think a little more about this…” 

You steel yourself. It feels a little bit like holding your breath. Finally, you spare Seokjin a look. “I won’t regret it,” You say. “You and I both said that Yoongi needs me to keep going at this pace—I was going to get roped in eventually, so I think it’ll just be easier if I agree now rather than drag this thing around for a couple of months. Besides…” You try to relax a little in your seat, but it’s hard to tell if you’re being convincing or not. “It’s nothing too serious right? You just want us to go out together, hold hands occasionally, speak highly of each other… We already do half of those things but it’ll just be emphasized now. No big deal.” 

Seokjin is wearing that unreadable look in his eyes again, like he knows something that you don’t even know yourself. “You’re right,” He settles with after a long pause. “It’s nothing too serious. You’ll probably have people also digging into your space though, but we’ll make all the necessary arrangements before any sort of announcement.” 

“If that’s the case,” You reply. “Then I’m sure it’ll all be fine. Besides.” You try for a smile. “It’s all just fake anyways, right? As long as the ones who really matter know that, then I don’t really see the harm in it.” 

Seokjin only continues to stare at you, before he relents. You know just as well as he does that your decision is one of an adult, and that if you really had a problem with something you would vote your opinion without hesitation. No matter if he can somehow read the thoughts in your head. 

At last, he nods. “We might need you to sign another NDA but…” He extends an arm out towards you. “Welcome abroad, Min Yoongi’s girlfriend.” 

You laugh a little, hollow but still present, as you reach over to take his head. “We’ll start having problems if that nickname becomes a regular thing.” 

Seokjin laughs a little louder, a complete opposite of his more quiet and observant side displayed just a few seconds ago. “Don’t worry—just for formalities. HEY, Namjoon, let me talk to Yoongi for a second.” He practically throws himself off of the couch and towards the music panel where Namjoon and Yoongi are still mid-discussion about another aspect of music you do not understand. Namjoon relents, pushing himself and his chair off to the side as Seokjin comes up to press the button on the panel that allows for discussion between the booth and the studio. “Hey, Min Yoongi, there’s been some discussions behind the scenes. Say hello to your new girlfriend!” 

There’s a brief silence in the studio, and Yoongi’s eyes immediately bug out of his head like this is the last thing he expected to hear on this very casual Wednesday morning. Knowing the agenda for the day, it probably has been. “What?” Yoongi says after a long moment, his voice amplified by the speakers in the studio. 

Seokjin turns towards you, jerking his head at the booth, and you get up with a sigh. You approach the music panel where Seokjin and Namjoon are currently situated—and aren’t sure how to feel when you see the way Yoongi’s eyes widen at the sight of you through the window. 

Still, you cannot help your own weak smile as you lean in towards the microphone. “Hi honey,” You say. 

Yoongi continues to stare at you, before his lips part and his face takes on a very unusual shade of red. “HUH?” 

. 

. 

CHAPTER  3: THE ANNOUNCEMENT 

. 

KSJ records releases a statement within the next following days, and it gains momentum like nothing you’ve ever seen before. 

HELLO, WE ARE KSJ RECORDS. 

Recently, we acknowledge that many fans have developed a curiosity about the relationship status of our newest artist Min Yoongi. The release of his latest EP and the undertaking of his concert has left many questions regarding who he writes his songs for—and many of the different assumptions made by people around the world could leave very dangerous and lasting impressions on people that our artist sees as platonic. We want to respond properly and say the truth. 

Min Yoongi has been in a relationship with his current manager, Y/N, for the past three years. When Min Yoongi was first signed to KSJ Records, they were already in a relationship and Y/N was assigned the task as Yoongi’s manager given her experience working alongside him during his Youtube career. They have good feelings about each other, and have agreed to make this information public to avoid future misunderstandings. KSJ Records and Yoongi hope that you all will support their relationship as they continue to navigate through Yoongi’s growing career together. 

You cannot help but laugh a little at the statement, which is flying so close to the truth that it might as well have been your reality. And in a way, it is. You’ve already prepared, molded your online presence just barely to meet these new expectations to the new facade you have to put up. 

And it’s not like the announcement actually changes anything in your daily life. In the days leading up to the post, you had decided to delete your Twitter account (you weren’t making much use of that platform anyways—what, with all the thirst accounts for Yoongi that you were stumbling upon due to internet cookies and the algorithm), and archive a fair number of your Instagram photos on an account that was already set to private. For someone who didn’t live and breathe social media, it wasn’t too hard to rid of that element in your life. 

One thing you hadn’t really accounted for, however, were the news stories that wrote about you in the hours following the press release. Several of them were base-level lists about your childhood and how your relationship with Yoongi could have festered—most of which were correct given that older fans of Yoongi knew what university he attended and how you were also a student there. But that information is generally public, and it’s not like you attend the university anymore.

Other than that, there are a few comments on your looks, a few assumptions on your personality. But surprising, there’s nothing too severe. At least, from the surface-level information you can collect from just doing a basic google search. Social media would probably be a more difficult battle, one that you would need nerves of steel and a hardened heart in order to navigate, but like mentioned: professionally managing your own personal social media isn’t exactly your forte. 

Over the next week, you follow Seokjin’s advice to lay low and let the news of your relationship with Yoongi continue to spread through the ranks. You spend that time in your apartment, answering a few messages from friends and family but doing what you could to keep the information as limited as possible. You assume that too many people knowing, regardless of how close or trustworthy they were, sort of went against the NDA you had to sign. And you’re not sure how your friends would react if they found out you were only dating Yoongi for a cover-up. Especially since some of them actually are fully aware of your feelings for him. 

Regardless, you carry on. Yoongi sends you some screenshots he takes of supportive messages from his fans wishing the both of you the best in your relationship, and he also sends you some memes about your relationship that make you laugh. His fans have a good sense of humor, what could you say. 

However, a week is the most you allow yourself to hide away within the comfort (and boring nature) of your apartment before you’re already texting Seokjin with news that you were showing up to the studio. 

Surprisingly, Seokjin doesn’t question this. He calls you. “I was just about to ask if you were going to come over anyways!” He says in a rather upbeat nature. “So it’s good to hear that we’re both on the same page.” 

So you step out of your apartment, dressed up in your usual work uniform and feeling much more put-together than you had been for the week you were ordered to remain quiet and lowkey. There’s something exciting about stepping out after being unable to do so for an extended period of time—and it shows in the little bounce that occurs with every step that you take down the sidewalk. Since you usually take the subway to work, you decide to dawn a bucket hat with a face mask tucked over your nose and mouth to blend in just enough but not so much so that your strange fashion choices could draw attention. 

It doesn’t, and you enjoy the rocking of the subway racing down the tracks as you peer out of the window quietly. KSJ Records is just a few stops away from your apartment, so you waste no time standing out and stepping out as soon as the doors of the subway open at the right stop. You bound up the stairs, through the familiar pathways you’ve always taken to get to work, and after a few blocks, you arrive at the building of KSJ Records. 

As you shoulder open the door, you greet the secretary behind the table, who smiles back at you. “Oh, good morning!” She greets cheerfully. “Seokjin is waiting for you in his office. I believe Yoongi is already with him.” 

You nod. “Sounds good, thank you so much!” You bound deeper in, navigating through the different hallways until you arrive at Seokjin’s office. True to the word from the front desk, Yoongi is already there. He looks surprisingly meek for someone who has been trending on Twitter for a few days, but you suppose that he’s still trying to adjust to the fact that Seokjin’s plan is already in motion. After all, he didn’t even get the final say before Seokjin started taking the situation into his own hands. The last he had heard of it was your apparent agreement before Seokjin drew up a company statement for him to approve. 

A part of you feels guilty—but Yoongi had been the one to ask you first! Perhaps he’s still in that normal state of uncertainty. After all, you feel like that as well. 

“Good morning guys,” You greet as soon as you register who exactly is in Seokjin’s office. You close the door behind you as both boys turn to acknowledge you. 

Seokjin grins. “Hi, thanks for coming in.” 

You wave him off. “You gave me the week off. I was starting to get a little restless.” You take a seat in the other vacant chair, in front of Seokjin and besides Yoongi. “What’s up, Yoongi?” 

Yoongi is already looking at you when you turn to greet him, but as soon as you ask your question, the corner of his lips quirk up into a vaguely uneasy and nervous smile. “H-Hi honey.” 

You freeze at that, immediately furrowing your eyebrows as you produce your own nervous smile. “Hi?” You return. “What the fuck are you on?” 

Seokjin interrupts before Yoongi can get an answer in. “Stop, stop, you’re way too stiff, Yoongi!” 

“Well, I’m trying!” Yoongi spits, before looking back at you with an utterance of your name. “Sorry, Seokjin wanted me to try treating you the same way I would treat a girlfriend. Apparently I didn’t do too hot.” 

“Not apparently, you just didn’t do hot at all,” Seokjin retorts back, flashing you an apologetic smile. “We were trying out a few moves easier to see how well you guys can adjust from having your normal manager slash artist relationship to displaying a long term, healthy and happy romantic relationship. It’s one thing to say that you guys are dating, but you guys do need to have something of an act ready.” 

You fold your fingers over each other, your mind on a dissociation for the briefest of seconds as the realization sinks its teeth just a little deeper. Holding hands and saying cute shit to each other had been easy to talk about in passing dialogue to Seokjin—but actually having to do it is a hurdle you hadn’t considered to the fullest. 

“I mean…” You speak up after a moment. “What if we’re just one of those couples that aren’t handsey with each other? Or don’t need that lovey dovey look in each other’s eyes to prove that we’re in a relationship?” 

Seokjin ponders this for a second. “True. But if we’re starting this, there needs to be a full level commitment on the act. If people start questioning the legitimacy of your relationship, that would be an even worse scandal than just letting people make assumptions about Yoongi’s relationship status in general! We definitely, at least, need to develop a basic level of your relationship, and then you guys can work around your own varying levels of comfort. This is something that we need to get rolling as soon as possible, because you.” He points at Yoongi. “Are booked in the next few days to do some radio interviews. And you.” He points at you. “Are going to go with him, as his girlfriend.” 

Even though you had known the label was coming, you can’t stop from feeling hot all over at how you were now technically Yoongi’s girlfriend. 

“So,” Seokjin continues. “How about I give you a base level of what I’m looking for. And we can do a few practice runs to make sure you guys are comfortable enough with these expectations?” 

Yoongi nods, leaving you little option but to do the same. But the thought from the recording booth bubbles up again: you hope you won’t regret this. 

. 

A few days later and you don’t think you’ll regret the outcome of this situation. But you’ll definitely get a little sick on the way. 

“I don’t know if I can do this,” You say in the car. You’re sitting in the back, next to Yoongi, staring straight ahead at the passenger seat before you. “And stay all in one piece,” You add as an afterthought. 

Yoongi glances over at you, looking nervous enough to admit a pout. “At least you don’t have to say anything—I’m the one doing all the talking…” 

You huff out a breath. This is true. You’re just here to play the supportive girlfriend, the agreeable partner who’ll publicly accompany Yoongi to a public event since a public announcement. Seokjin says that doing this with the lense of a romantic relationship makes you seem friendly, open, and supportive of the relationship. You’re not too sure how public perception is shaped, but you understand where Seokjin is coming from. Tagging along to an event as a girlfriend instead of a manager makes you and Yoongi seem free. Like you have nothing to hide. 

Only in reality, it’s the complete opposite. With everything coming out to the surface, you have everything to hide. 

It only takes a few more minutes of driving before you arrive at the radio station. The instructions for today’s assignment have been easy: get out of the car, and walk the many steps needed to reach the entrance of the station. The empty step ahead is surrounded by paparazzi and fans, all screaming and shouting—trying to get their fill of Yoongi. 

You sigh. You could do this. You and Yoongi have been practicing for the past few days. Albeit, ‘practicing’ just mainly consisted of the pair of you walking down a hallway close together. It was more lackluster than anything else, and you don’t think it was entirely productive use of time. Seokjin seemed to think that the pair of you needed to work on a closer level of proximity. But you know the truth about your feelings, and know that the complications will come from just being too close to him. 

Yoongi unbuckles his seatbelt and is already moving to tug at the handle that’ll open his side of the car door, immediately exposing him to the walkway along with the flashing cameras and loud screams. Before he can pull all the way, however, he stops short. You’re about to ask what the problem is, before he angles towards you and flashes you that grin he has when he’s thinking of ideas you wouldn’t approve of. “I have an idea,” He breathes out, quickly reaching over to grab your hand. 

You stiffen at the contact, trying to ignore the flash of your heart speeding up in your chest. You and Yoongi hadn’t agreed on this—if you had, maybe you would have been a little more prepared for the situation! Oh god. 

On instinct, you try to wiggle out of his grasp. “What are you doing?” You hiss. 

Yoongi gives you a dry look, reaching over to grab your hand again. “Calm down,” He argues back, lacing your fingers together for extra measure, like that’s gonna be the thing to help you calm the fuck down. “This’ll help sell it, okay? Just trust me.” 

Leaving little room for arguments, he squeezes your hand briefly before loosening it enough. He pulls the car door handle, pushing it outwards, and stepping out into the wild. People notice his appearance immediately, because the screams grow louder as Yoongi uses his unoccupied hand to wave and bow towards those who have come out to see him. 

You trail behind rather helplessly; the hand connected to Yoongi pulling you out of the car. Yoongi stays near the door, staring down at you with a rather watchful gaze that only leaves you feeling hotter than before. Still, you don’t speak of it as Yoongi steps back just enough for you to step out of the car. “You okay?” He asks. 

You nod, readjusting yourself with one hand before Yoongi starts to pull you alongside him to walk the distance towards the radio station entrance. Although you want to engage slightly with the crowd, your nerves keep you mainly at bay, forcing you to angle your head downwards just enough to avoid any serious eye contact. Yoongi keeps his gaze ahead, walking a rather brisk pace towards the radio studio—where security leads the way in opening the door for the pair of you. Whether he’s walking fast because he doesn’t want to keep up the charade of holding your hand for so long… or because he can feel how sweaty your palm is getting. You don’t know. 

It’s only a few more steps before you and Yoongi are entering the building for the radio show, where Jungkook is lingering near the entrance. He’s on his phone, probably having just made a call with Seokjin about your arrival, before he spots the two of you entering. “Hey guys, how was it?” 

Yoongi nods. “A little loud, but I think it went alright.” 

Jungkook’s eyes flicker down to your intertwined hands. “Wow, you guys are committed,” He comments. 

You seem to remember that your soul has returned to the body that is still currently holding hands with Min Yoongi. Alarmingly, you take your hand back. “Y-Yeah, Yoongi thought it would be a good show for the people outside! No biggie—just a simple hand holding technique, people do that all the time!” You realize that you’re rambling. 

Yoongi, oblivious as always, raises an eyebrow. “You okay?” 

“Y-Yeah,” You manage. “Why do you ask?” 

Yoongi is about to answer, before an intern shyly approaches the three of you with an iPad in hand. 

“Are you all under Mr. Min’s team?” She asks, fishing out some badges when you nod in confirmation. “Okay, so make sure to take these so everyone knows who you are. Mr. Min? I can lead you to the studio you’ll be interviewing in, if you’ll follow me—did you need me to grab a soda for you?” She begins listing a series of questions about his well-being, leaving you and Jungkook behind in the hallway with your newly acquired badges in hand.

Jungkook, observant as always, gives you a look. “What was that all about?” 

“Huh? I-It was nothing…” You trail off looping the badge around your neck, meeting Jungkook’s eyes and realizing that he’s wearing a shit-eating grin. The same kind of grin that Taehyung gives you when you’re standing too close to Yoongi. Your eyes flare. “WHAT DO YOU KNOW?”  

Jungkook laughs. “Calm down, calm down, Taehyung and I gossip a lot on the side—hey, what the fuck, don’t hit me—we’re in a public place!” 

You relent your aggression, but only slightly. You lower your arms as well. “Just—don’t tell Yoongi.” 

Jungkook levels with you a dry look. “Do you think I have a death wish? C’mon, let’s head over.” 

With a hesitant sigh, you relent and let Jungkook lead you down the halls of this studio, until the pair of you find a door with Yoongi’s name written on the white board. There’s a darkened LIVE light panel above the frame, indicating that Yoongi’s radio interview hasn’t started yet. There’s some people lingering about, who nod and open the door for you when you present your TALENT badge at them. The inside of a radio booth is similar to the recording booths Yoongi has found a home in as of late. There’s people in this current room, headphones on and monitoring what’s happening before them while being surrounded with sound panels and laptop screens. On the other side of the glass is Yoongi, and the main hosts of the radio station, Jung Hoseok and Im Nayeon. 

From your side, you can hear their conversation amplified through speakers in the studio. They’re all currently joking around about external matters—it makes sense too. Yoongi has been on this particular radio show a handful of times. 

“Okay, okay, you guys,” Hoseok speaks after a few more minutes of playful banter. “Today, we have a very special guest with us today. He’s fresh off the tour of his first and most recent EP, we have Min Yoongi in the studio! Yay!” He claps. Nayeon follows suit. 

Yoongi stops his clapping sooner to speak into the microphone in front of him. “Thanks for having me back.” 

“Thank you for deciding to hang out with us for the afternoon,” Nayeon says. “Especially since you’re a big hot shot now.” 

Yoongi laughs. “I wouldn’t say that… I just finished my first tour, Nayeon, no big deal.” 

“‘No big deal’,” Nayeon quotes him. “As if your EP didn’t chart into a top 50 list or anything like that.” 

The conversation trails like this for a little bit. Yoongi is scheduled to spend thirty minutes doing a segment, which is meant to be uploaded onto Youtube later, so it gives the three of them a lot of legroom to play around and play off of each other. The purpose of the interview is to discuss the tour, the progress of the album, and (if anyone dared venture there) the status of his relationship—! 

“Well, moving on from the album—which I’m sure is going to be a huge success, by the way,” Nayeon continues on, bringing you back from the daydream that you’ve slipped into. “Seriously, it’s a very highly anticipated release.” 

Yoongi manages a nervous smile. “I’ll make sure not to let anyone down.” 

Nayeon nods. “I think it’s a good time to ask about a recent development that has occurred with you as of late.” 

“And, that is the announcement of your relationship,” Nayeon carries on. She glances at Yoongi from across the table. “We’re allowed to ask you questions about it, right?” 

Yoongi nods, choosing his words very carefully. “I’m all ears for your questions, Nayeon.” 

Nayeon brightens at that. “I just think that a lot of people want to know: how are you guys doing since the announcement?” 

He takes in a breath. To the general public, it’ll probably look as if he’s steeling himself to finally come clean about a relationship he’s been hiding for three years. But to you, you know it’s because he’s just trying to figure out what exactly to say. 

“We’ve been doing well,” He says with a nod of assurance. “It was a little stressful at first, and it still is because of how recent the news is, but I am glad we decided to make this call. Y/N has been with me since the beginning and has supported me and has been the inspiration for a lot of my music—and I’m at a point in my life where I want my fans to know that rather than drag them along and just make them assume these parts of my life.” 

“That’s so sweet,” Nayeon gushes. “So Y/N wasn’t always just your manager, even back in your Youtube days?” 

Yoongi shakes his head. “Actually, she was my girlfriend before I decided to upload song covers.” 

Nayeon swoons a little. “Can you tell us the story of how we met? You can be brief, of course.” 

Yoongi laughs. “We shared a class together in college, and she was probably the funniest person I had ever met—of course, we were friends for about a year before we started dating. But Y/N was always very supportive about me pursuing music, even when it was just a hobby. When I did start my Youtube channel, she stayed up to help with editing and just letting me know how some lyrics I had written would sound. She was a business major in college, so it felt right to let her have the reins on scheduling my appearances—and now she’s my manager. Besides just being my girlfriend, we work together really well.” 

You huff out a breath, something you hadn’t even realized that you were holding. You didn’t think Yoongi lying straight through his teeth could cause you so much anxiety. As if there are people around this radio station to fact check everything leaving Yoongi’s mouth. 

Nayeon hesitates for a moment. “Alright, I want to ask one more question.” 

Yoongi gestures for her to continue. 

“You write a lot about being in love and all these little moments of stability and that feeling of contentment—but what is your experience with love? How did you know that you were in love?” 

Your lips part in shock at the question, having not expected it. After all, Seokjin didn’t quiz Yoongi on this answer. And to talk about love in such a personal manner—would Yoongi even have an answer for everyone? 

Your gaze is trained on Yoongi, watching them through the glass separating you from him. It seems as if the entire room is silenced in anticipation. You can feel Jungkook’s gaze hot on your back, clearly trying to gauge your response—but you try not to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. 

“It’s actually funny,” Yoongi speaks up after a moment. Your heart lurches, thinking that he’s going to divert from the question. But you should know him better. “I always thought love, when it came to romance, was supposed to be this big explosion of fireworks and what not—like in the movies. You see someone and there’s this feeling in your gut right away, you know, this whole concept of love at first sight. I used to think that was how I was going to fall in love. It was going to be dramatic, but everything I wanted right away, and I was going to be whisked off and everything would be sunshine and rainbows. I thought that I’d meet someone, and they’d be everything I wanted them to be right off the bat, and that I’d know right away they’d be the one. 

But the truth is, through my relationship, I realized that it’s not like that. I didn’t know Y/N would be the one right away. It took a long time—because we liked each other, but that’s not the big explosion of fireworks I was promised. We liked each other, but it was never love at first sight. And truthfully, she wasn’t even everything I wanted right off the bat. I’ve realized that love is more about these adjustments you as people have to make to fit, and it happened so subtly with me that then I didn’t realize it was happening until I just woke up one day and knew. 

I knew because one morning, I woke up in a fit—I had fallen asleep at my desk again trying to get through some of the music arrangement of this one video I was working on, or something like that. I was always working on music and editing—so I actually don’t remember. Anyways, I woke up and my head was resting on a pillow, and there was a blanket over my shoulder, which I didn’t remember fixing up the night before. I got out of the little makeshift studio I had in my apartment, and there was breakfast food from this cafe I really like around the corner at my table. It was a little cold, but Y/N had taped a little note on the bag with heating instructions and what not, just telling me to do my best—really nice and supportive things. I had assumed that she had gone back home, because she knew I was pulling another all-nighter for work. That’s what I thought, until I look into the living room and find her sleeping on my couch. More than that, her hands were still on her laptop, where she had been in the process of still editing one of my videos. She still had her headphones on and everything. We had been dating for a little less than a year at that point, so it wasn’t like this was a rare thing. It was a pretty normal thing for her to do—wrap me up in blankets and buy me breakfast food the following morning, even falling asleep on the couch was a weekly occurrence. But I just saw her sleeping on my couch and I felt this wave of warmth and contentment. Like I always knew that she’d be on my team. I think that was the moment I really knew what love was.” 

It’s a long story, one that ends with a stunned silence—like no one had expected him to give out such a detailed answer and make it sound poetic at the same time. That’s the songwriter Min Yoongi for you, you supposed. 

Quickly, both the studio and the booth give out a chorus of aw’s and ooh’s, gushing amongst one another over the charming nature of Yoongi’s story. But you are still trapped into submission, staring straight through the glass with millions of questions still going through your mind. The spike in your heart rate also points to the rush of adrenaline flowing through you. Because you know this story that he is telling. He’s not lying through his teeth. You remember this night. Or, one of the nights, at least. Like Yoongi had said, you giving out blankets and food like air was second nature in your friendship. So was you falling asleep on the couch. 

Did those situations hold as much weight for him as they did for you? Or, was he just making up his feelings? After all, the key to lying was skirting as close to the truth as possible. That kind of situation may work for Yoongi, as the liar, but it wasn’t as comforting for you. 

You watch the way Yoongi laughs at the gushing Nayeon does, the way he smiles brightly and continues to reinforce how important you are—and you recognize his facade better than anyone else. Of course he’s lying, and you reach their realization with a bit of downfall in your stomach. There’s no way he would be telling the truth, especially considering the situation the pair of you are now in where Yoongi’s career is dependent on his ability to tell a proper lie. 

You allow yourself to sink a little deeper into the studio, near the back where the producers of the radio station can discuss amongst each other. This puts you with Jungkook, who has been watching the situation closely the entire time. 

“Yoongi can be quite the actor,” Jungkook mumbles. He has this unreadable expression in his eyes, but you know that Jungkook knows that situation Yoongi is describing. It had been Jungkook’s apartment as well. He glances at you, but says nothing. 

You continue to stare ahead. That pensive silence continues as Yoongi is released from the radio interview, and thanks Nayeon and Hoseok eagerly for their time and energy. Nayeon returns the gesture, waving to you through the glass when Yoongi points you out. You weakly return the action. 

It isn’t until you get into the car, where the pair of you are safe from the wandering eyes and careful ears of the entire world, that one of you elects to speak up. “So, what did you think?” Yoongi asks. 

By this point, you’ve recovered swiftly from your disappointment. You smile like it’s your only shield. “As your manager, I’m glad that you were able to make love so poetic—just on brand for you. As your fake girlfriend, I also really have to congratulate you for your storytelling. I even remember those nights too, so it was definitely a good memory to lie about.” 

Yoongi flushes a little at your comment, looking pleased with himself for a moment. You smile at his expression, before turning to train your gaze out of the window. The gesture makes you miss the way the smile slips off his face, the way he glances over at you. A good memory to lie about—right. 

.

Yoongi’s radio interview goes viral, and so does any hope you have in trying to forget the tale he had spun during it. Granted, you are happy that people bought his story. You just wish that it wouldn’t have muddled up all your thoughts and feelings along the way. 

Naturally, Seokjin is excited about the good press and the fact that the pair of you completed your first assignment well enough. At least, that’s the display he’s presenting when you walk into his office two days after the radio interview. Yesterday was spent looking over social media to see the public’s reaction to Yoongi’s speech about love, and if you as his manager would need to do any damage control. Luckily, you do not. As his manager, it leaves you in good spirits. 

But as someone who actually has a crush on Yoongi, it’s less so. 

That dejection only furthers itself when you see how excited Seokjin looks, like he’s already plotting the next steps to his little project. 

“Ah, Y/N!” Seokjin greets carefully. “Hi, hi, congratulations on your first successful outing with Yoongi! Per the reports I’ve been seeing over social media, you guys did a very good job.” 

You sigh, placing four coffee orders onto the table and sliding into the seat in front of Seokjin’s desk. “I didn’t really do that much,” You admit with a half-hearted shrug. “Yoongi did all the talking. I just waved at Nayeon through the glass window.” 

“Aaahh,” Seokjin hums, opening up his laptop and turning it around in order for you to see what is on his screen. “Seems like you did a little more than that.” 

Your gaze flints down to the big, bold words across the screen: THE INSIDER REPORT ON MIN YOONGI’S RADIO INTERVIEW: Employees at the K-IM Radio Station detail their experience meeting Yoongi and his girlfriend following the announcement of their relationship. 

That piques your interest, and you scoot forward in your chair slightly in order to reach out and see what Seokjin is talking about. It’s not a very lengthy article—there is a summary detailing Yoongi’s interview, of course referencing his grand speech about love—but that’s not what takes up the most space. 

Your eyes continue to skim over, almost not even believing what you were reading. The intern that first greeted you and Yoongi is in here, talking about how the pair of you were holding hands “in such a loving way, and the way they looked at each other before I led him to the radio booth was so romantic!” (The intern’s words, not yours). There’s even some excerpts from the employees and producers inside the radio booth, the same room you had spent the interview in. Surprisingly, a lot of the accounts are not talking about what Yoongi said. It’s all about how you looked when Yoongi was telling his story. 

“It was such a powerful speech, I couldn’t help but look over to Y/N to see her reaction, and she was staring back at Yoongi in such a way that I knew immediately that the genuine nature of their love was a two-way street.” 

“... a definite softness in her gaze, like she was reliving that memory with him.” 

And so on, and so on. 

Your face feels a little warmer when your eyes as you push the laptop away, glancing up to see Seokjin’s staring at you. “See? You did good. The small gestures you do can go a long way—especially when you don’t notice you’re doing them.” 

You close the laptop, as if that can physically distance yourself from the assurances of those who had been around you. “Right…” You manage weakly. 

“Well,” Seokjin hums, already moving onto the next point of the conversation. If he senses something fishy in your response, he doesn’t comment on it. “Anyways, Yoongi is in the studio right now with Namjoon, so I just want a little update report on your relationship with Yoongi. As in, how is it going between the two of you?” 

You ponder this for a moment, thinking about how he took your hand in the car, how he recounted such a personal story to explain the details of his love, the look he gave you when you congratulated his storytelling abilities—like he knew something that you did not. 

At the same time, it was such a minor appearance that you didn’t get much of a feel about the romantic aspect of this fake relationship. This is why you sigh. “I’m not too sure. We had such a minor acting role together that it’s hard to say. I will say that right now it feels pretty much the same.” 

“Alright, fair enough,” Seokjin approves with a nod. “So you don’t have a problem if I want to plan some informal hang-outs for you and Yoongi? Just as a way to keep your guys in the public eye enough times that fans don’t start doubting your relationship.” 

You smile weakly. “Of course. That’s what I signed the NDA for.” 

Seokjin laughs, finally waving you off. “Okay, sure. I’ll look into where I think your relationship will make the biggest impact and will update you and Yoongi when I’ve made my decisions.” Finally, he looks over the multiple cups of coffee you had brought over on your cardboard tray, and fishes out the one with his name on it. “This one for me?” 

You lean over, flickering your gaze from the cup to his face. “Well, at the very least, I know you can read now.” 

His relaxed expression morphs into a playful scowl. “Get out of here brat.” 

Your laughter echoes through his office as you take your cardboard tray of three coffee cups and reemerge back into the hallway of the record studio. You walk the familiar path until you reach the door to the recording room—pulling open the door and letting yourself in. Inside the booth, Yoongi is rapping away into his microphone, as his low voice fills the tiny space of this studio. You place the tray down onto one of the tables, picking up your own before sliding over to take a seat on the couch. 

As you continue listening to Yoongi wistfully hum about a desire to cross an emotional distance, about how he tells the truth because “it’s you, it’s always been you”—you cannot help your mind wandering into what Seokjin has in store for you over the course of the next few months. 

.

. 

CHAPTER 4: TURNING POINT 

. 

Yoongi’s first full length album is set to release in two months. 

At least, that’s what KSJ records claims after uploading a quarterly report of Yoongi’s schedule. At first, you don’t think it’s a big deal for Yoongi’s label to post a tentative update about his music progress, but his fans are extremely observant and catch on immediately. It’s good to draw up the hype, you suppose. 

Anyways, at the rate that Yoongi is working on the songs for the album, you won’t be surprised if he manages to follow the schedule down to a T. The boy lives and breathes music, and last time you checked the album would consist partly of songs from his EP and new songs—meaning that it cuts down Yoongi’s usual workload into half. Not that he minds, at any rate. 

“Okay, Min Yoongi,” Seokjin starts up, standing at the head of the meeting room which only consists of three people. Normally, with meetings with the head of KSJ records himself, there’s a lot more people around to discuss schedule, promotions, and the likes. The fact that it’s just you and Yoongi tells you exactly what you’re doing here. “It’s been a few weeks since your radio interview, and I know that you’re doing well in your progress of the album—but I think it’ll do you well to take a break.” 

Yoongi huffs. “It’s nice that you’re reminding me about this, but I’ll rest when the album is released.” 

Seokjin snorts. “When did I say rest? I just meant take a break from your album work. Plus you need to get some vitamin C, or whatever shit you get from the sun.”  

“It’s vitamin D,” You interject gently. 

“Pish posh,” Seokjin waves away your interruption. “Anyways, like I was saying, there is a way for us to kill two birds with one stone. So that you.” He points to Yoongi. “Can get out of the studio for a few hours and you.” He points to you. “Can play into a relationship that’ll help us kill two birds with one stone.” 

You raise an eyebrow. “What exactly are you proposing?” 

“Well,” Seokjin continues, leaning over his side of the table to get a few good at his laptop, where it appears that he has a few notes written down regarding the direction of this meeting. “In order to continue generating curiosity about Yoongi’s upcoming album and maintain the public’s constant queries about your relationship, I want you two to go on public outings. I have a few specific places I think would be good cornerstones to touch on, but I’m also willing to let the two of you figure out where you want to spend your time.” He glances up at the two of you. “That should be okay, right?” 

You and Yoongi glance at each other. Come to think of it, the pair of you haven’t talked about nor reviewed the events at the radio station since it happened and the underlying questions you still have about his side of the story feels vaguely like a weight hanging over you both. But Yoongi smiles at you, and you think that you can continue to do what you’ve done for years: hide away your feelings. 

“Yeah, that should be fine,” You speak up first, smiling back at Yoongi. You turn to Seokjin. “What did you have in mind?” 

The question is how you find yourself in a car with Yoongi a few days later, your hands in your lap and your mind spinning with nerves. The radio interview had been one case, but a limited one at that—your role had been very minor and your interaction with Yoongi had only been seconds long. They had definitely been a lot smaller than this new role that Seokjin has assigned to you. 

For today, Seokjin has directed the pair of you to the streets of Yoongi’s old stomping ground—the same shopping district with the same corner Yoongi spent all his nights performing in from a time period that seems so long enough. Not long enough, apparently, as Seokjin thinks it would be a nice nod to be ‘accidentally’ discovered walking along a place that holds so much memory. 

“I just want you guys to walk around—be happy, but be close,” Seokjin had noted just a few hours prior to you and Yoongi’s departure. “Just look like the pair of you are on a date. Hold hands, smile at each other, all that jazz. Nothing too serious.” 

Too bad it actually was kind of serious for you. 

You and Yoongi make minor conversation, making some jokes here and there that do well in helping to ease your nerves. You don’t think Yoongi would take notice, but he can be strangely observant. Perhaps the way you keep bouncing one of your legs helps let him know that something is up. 

“Are you okay?” He asks. 

You stop bouncing your leg. “It kind of feels like I’m about to perform, or something—it’s that same kind of rush.” 

Yoongi stares at you for a moment, before he looks out his side of the window. “Well, technically speaking, you are about to perform. You know, with this whole relationship being an act and all.” 

“Very true,” You say, nodding your head. “Do we need a game plan?” 

Yoongi shrugs. “I thought that we’d just wing it. We held hands back at the radio station so, uh, I’m assuming that you’re still comfortable with doing that?” 

“O-Oh yeah, of course!” 

“Then, we can do that. And walk around. Improvise while we do so—just see how the day goes.” 

You nod. “Okay, true, true. That sounds good.” You can’t help but give him a sneaky smile. “Look at you, Min Yoongi, you’ve become quite the performer. Improvisation used to be something you were never too good at.” 

Yoongi flushes a little, smiling back at you. “Give me a little credit. You gotta have backups for your backups, especially in situations when your sound gives up on you in the middle of one of your sets.” 

You laugh, because this reminds you about one of Yoongi’s first live sets along the very street the pair of you will be approaching shortly. His speakers had just given up, forcing Yoongi to go entirely acapella. In a way, that mistake ended up garnering him more fans who grew to respect his craft and talent for music and singing. But as they say, hindsight is 20 20. 

You and Yoongi continue to laugh about that memory for a few minutes before Taehyung arrives along the outskirts of the shopping district, pulling up along the curb. The car is on the other side of this bustling area, just a few feet away from the pedestrian walkway that is littering with people going to and fro. 

Taehyung turns around in his seat to give the pair of you a look. “Now kids, I want you to call me whenever you’re ready to get picked up.” He’s grinning around the words though 

You glare at him. “Sure thing dad,” You bite back, already opening the car door to take your leave. Your feet land onto the concrete of the sidewalk as you pull yourself into a standing position. Yoongi joins you shortly after, standing close to you. “Bye,” You say, slamming the door into Taehyung’s face before he can get in one last snarky reply. 

Yoongi looks like he’s trying hard not to laugh for Taehyung’s benefit. But it’s an act he can only hold together for so long, because he does start to laugh as soon as Taehyung and the company car turn the corner and disappear out of sight.

After a second, Yoongi turns to you and gestures towards the pedestrian walkway just a few feet ahead. “Shall we?” 

You nod, taking the hand that he extends out to you. Just an act, you tell yourself, you allow him to lace your fingers together. Nevermind the fact that the weight on your hand feels entirely too reassuring and comforting for the current context. 

Ignoring that feeling, you squeeze his hand and let him lead you towards the walkway, where you cross the street with no problem. Since Yoongi nor Seokjin had announced Yoongi’s presence at this plaza for the day, you can only hope that too much attention won’t be drawn to you. 

It’s a thought that you are able to entertain for a few minutes. Yoongi may not have the star quality status of mainstream celebrities (yet), but he’s still someone who has been on the radio, has done a country-wide tour, and has a youtube following of a couple million people (four now, the last time you checked—subscriber counts tend to zip by after a person hits a million). That small list of accomplishments is more than enough to drag in a few wandering eyes. Okay, maybe a little more than a few. 

You think that you’ve kind of developed a seventh sense to knowing when Yoongi was being recognized. It’s shown in the double-glances some people start shooting at him, at quick whispers behind closed hands, and craning necks over shoulders. 

You’re okay with people knowing about Yoongi’s current location, but the memory of his tours and even the crowd problem that came up during his street performances flashback in your mind. You don’t think you want to deal with that situation right now—secretly preferring if people just observed from a distance. 

Without thinking twice, you tighten your hold on Yoongi’s hand long enough to lead him into one of the stores along the sidewalk—an accessories booth with fake glasses, rings, earrings, the likes. 

Yoongi watches you, a touch of amusement in his eyes like he knows what you’re thinking. Still, he asks. “What are you doing?” 

You rummage through the wide selection of glasses, fully aware that one or two people have spotted the pair of you and are lingering near the entrance to catch a glance at what you two are doing. From the looks of it, no one is going to stir up a commotion. You still want to make sure. 

“You stand out,” You explain vaguely, finding a pair of circle glasses in black-rims from the pile before turning around and more or less smashing the glasses against his face. It’s difficult to try and put glasses on another person, you miss his ears a few times and almost get him in the eye, but Yoongi strangely enough lets you manhandle him. 

In the midst of your last few attempts you step forward and scoot even closer to him to try and get the glasses more properly situated on his face. Due to the proximity, Yoongi’s hands fly up from his side to avoid being pressed uncomfortably against his chest, choosing to rest at your waist. At first, you don’t feel the weight of his hands, you’re too focused on making sure the fake glasses you’ve selected can fit in place. 

As soon as you’ve properly aligned the glasses to his face, you lower your hands from his face. The action makes you suddenly hyper aware of the current position you’ve put yourself in. It’s not very often that you get handsy with Yoongi, it’s a side of you that comes out when the pair of you are in a hurry, but hardly during candid moments like this. 

Immediately, Yoongi’s hands feel like warm flames tickling your skin, and you suddenly feel hyper aware of his position, of his closeness. Your eyes flicker up, seeing his face with those glasses you’ve just shoved onto him sitting nicely at the bridge of his nose, highlighting the intensity of his gaze. The stare he’s giving you only heightens the gravitational pull you feel towards him. 

You don’t know how long the pair of you are just standing in the middle of the store, staring at each other, until you feel the weight of a third party approaching the pair of you. 

You practically shove yourself away from Yoongi, trying to make it seem as if you’re just stepping back to get an overall look at his face (Yoongi featuring glasses). Yoongi lets you go. 

The third party is an employee of the accessories booth, smiling widely. “Sorry to interrupt,” She says, looking over at Yoongi. “Sir, I just want to say that those glasses look great on you. And just to let you know we’re having a sale on that collection so it’s a buy one get the other one half off so maybe you two can match if you’re up to it…” 

You tune her out after a second, realizing that you can’t really keep up with what she’s saying considering the current firestorm that’s going on inside your head. Why couldn’t you have just asked Yoongi to put the glasses on himself? You curse yourself for letting your guard down—sometimes you try to do things of your own accord, and today you were paying the price.

When you don’t speak after a few seconds, Yoongi smiles at the employee. “Got it, thanks a lot.” He waits until the employee returns back to rearranging some earrings on a nearby shelf before turning back to you. “How does it look?” 

He does look good, but you play it down by tilting your head and settling with a shrug. “Well, you’ve looked better—but this’ll have to do.” 

Yoongi laughs, before he does something that catches you off guard. He steps closer to you. “So you think there are times when I do look good?” 

You try not to look too bewildered at his gesture. You can tell that he does feel a little nervous about the fact he’s testing the waters so boldly without any practice, but it’s all part of the act. Just as Seokjin said: be happy, be close. 

So you place a hand on his chest, pushing him slightly with your own little teasing smile. “I said better—that doesn’t always mean you were ever good to begin with.” 

Yoongi makes a noise of protest, and without warning just swings his arm around your shoulder and pulls you close to his side. “You’re breaking my heart everyday!” 

“You must like the abuse, you’re still with me,” You bite back playfully without thought. For a split second, it doesn’t feel like you’re in a store with people who vaguely recognize Yoongi’s appearance—for a split second, it feels like just you and him, and everything you’ve ever wanted. 

Upon Yoongi’s lips hover over the shell of your ear. “Good job, I think the group of girls outside caught our picture.” 

That dreamy fantasy where it was just you and Yoongi and nothing else mattered came crashing down, squaring you right back into reality. It’s not a disappointing feeling per say—just a vague extra hammering of your heartbeat, a vague guilt that you let your mind let its guard down like that. “Right,” You say. “Uh…” You try to think, which proves to be a difficult thing to do with Yoongi’s weight pressed up against you and everything. You clap your hands together. “Okay, let’s grab a hat and then we’ll be on our way.” 

You make sure to be a little less handsy when it comes to hat selections, but you knew there was only so far you could escape given the current context of the situation. Yoongi seems to know that, because he stays close to you as you’re both shifting through hats, and even when he pays for his hat and glasses combination before exiting the booth. The pair of you pass through the two girls that were lingering outside of the booth, where Yoongi gives them the smallest wave and hello before carrying on with the rest of the trip. 

With the hat and glasses combination, it definitely draws less attention to Yoongi’s classic fluffy black hair and gummy smile—especially if you’re using what was going on in the beginning of your trip as a baseline. This means that you and Yoongi can carry on with the rest of your outing with feeling the obvious heavy weight of gazes on your shoulder. 

With intertwined hands the pair of you first stop by one of the local cafes and sit right alongside the window to enjoy some pasta and soda combinations. You roll up the noodles onto your fork and clink utensils with Yoongi before slipping the noodles in your mouth—tomato sauce with flavor slipped into every side piece of noodle. It’s amazing, and you cannot help but gush so as you smile brightly around your fork. 

You’re too busy stirring your fork around yet another string of pasta that you fail to see the softening look of the boy across the table from you. It’s a look that disappears by the time your gaze glints back up to resume the conversation. The pasta is considered a snack above all else, so it doesn’t take long for the pair of you to finish up your meal. Leaving a tip behind on the table, Yoongi walks over to you just as you’re straightening up from your chair. Silently, he offers his hand to you. 

Knowing the routine by now, you take his hand, silently lacing your fingers together and letting him lead the way out of the cafe and back onto the sidewalk. The later afternoon shows itself in the steady increase of people, which is good because it makes you feel as if you can blend into the crowd either. There are still the occasional phones out, trailing after you and Yoongi as you walk along the sidewalk, but nothing that ever makes you feel as if you need to call Taehyung. 

“Actually, this isn’t as bad as I thought it’d be,” You grumble to Yoongi quietly, a comment that he laughs at. 

“I’m not that famous,” Yoongi jokingly teases you. “And my fans are just being respectful—give them a little credit.” His voice dies down shortly after, however, but it only takes you a few seconds to realize why. 

The pair of you, in the midst of your simple ‘walk along the sidewalk’ plan, have arrived at a very familiar street corner. The sunset means that arriving performers who work best once the sun leaves are just beginning to set up their stage—laying out equipment, testing out sound systems, saying hello to some passersby who recognize the artists getting ready. You can read the signs of these interactions very easily. After all, it’s what Yoongi used to do a year ago, at this very spot too. 

In front of you, a new performer, a singer, is setting up her own equipment—guitar in hand as she practices her strumming. You inch closer to Yoongi, your arms molded against each other. “Hey, hey,” You whisper at Yoongi. The boy leans over to better hear you. “She reminds me of you.” 

Yoongi laughs. “What do you mean? How?” 

You glance over at the girl again, not noticing the way Yoongi is still staring at you, quietly awaiting your answer. “You guys have the same drive,” You eventually note. “And the same determination. It’s easy to see in her, just as it’s always been like that for you…” You trail off, looking over to realize that he’s still looking at you. 

“You noticed those things, huh?” Yoongi asks quietly. 

His gaze is too enticing to look away from, pulling you in through a situation not unlike what had happened at the accessories shop earlier that afternoon. “I-I mean, of course I do…” Yoongi’s gaze feels like hot magnets that are just pulling the next words out of you. “I always notice with you.” 

The world seems to quiet down at that, everything slowing down as you feel yourself mentally curse yourself out for those words. Why would you say it like that? 

A million thoughts go through your head at once. You weren’t really lying or trying to play a part. You were being honest. You do always notice with Yoongi. And since he clearly only sees you as a friend that could participate in whatever scheme he can get himself into, then he would obviously hear your statement and think of it as nothing more than a friendly complement. Right? RIGHT? 

Except, Yoongi is still just standing next to you, staring at you, not making any sort of comment whatsoever. He has that unreadable expression in his gaze, a look he always gives you when you let the cracks slip in your facade, but it’s something he never talks about, never explains to you—just like right now. 

The silence grows tense, so tense that it begins to feel like weights on your shoulders, like a coil wrapping itself around your heart, because why isn’t he saying anything? 

Yoongi hums, low and throaty and that coil around your heart drops into your stomach. “Is that so?” He inquires softly, continuing to gaze at you. 

His gaze drops down to your lips, and that coil is replaced with butterflies all around you. It starts are a flutter in your stomach, in your heart, and your mind starts to race because what the fuck is happening?

Around you, the growing number of people means that someone accidentally bumps into you, driving you forward right into Yoongi’s chest. The pair of you stumble, effectively dissipating that cloud of tension that had threatened to curl through you. You cough, taking a small step away from Yoongi so that while the pair of you were still holding hands, that was the only thing connecting the pair of you. 

You and Yoongi don’t have another run in like that for the remainder of the date, as that late afternoon sunset fades away into nighttime and you and Yoongi spend that time trying to enjoy each other’s presence whilst also not engaging in too much physical contact. Your fingers remain loosely intertwined but it never tightens as if the small air of space between your hands can hide away the nerves and tension you feel yourself trying to contain. 

Even when Taehyung comes to pick the two of you up, and you no longer are under the obligation to hold hands, that air of space still feels heavy between the two of you. 

.

The overwhelming positive response of your first official public date sends Seokjin through the moon, as well as provides him with a drive to arrange and send you and Yoongi out on more dates. All of which, fortunately for you, don’t come nearly as close to the level of tension experienced from the first date. Partly because you know your limits, and go into each planned date with a level of expectation for yourself as well as rules that you’ve internally programmed yourself to follow every time you and Yoongi step out of the car. 

At the museum date, you make sure to keep your distance, using your intertwined hands with Yoongi as the only signal of your relationship. The pair of you joke around about the art pieces, whispering between each other about how many fans have taken pictures of the pair of you lingering about the museum, as well as relay information to each other about various rooms that you are interested in. But in a way, it definitely feels more like a typical friendly hang-out rather than a date. 

The same idea can be applied to the next date Seokjin sends you on—a casual date at one of the local botanical gardens, each garden filled with a different culture to serve as the theme for its layout and plant growth. Some gardens have little cafe booths and grassy fields to buy some snacks before sitting down to enjoy the sunlight, which is an idea that Yoongi suggests that the two of you do. He points to one of the ice cream shops along the outskirts of a garden, and claims a seat on one of the benches so the two of you can enjoy your treat. The current summertime weather emits a warmer heat and breeze that curls lightly through the air throughout the day, making for a perfectly comfortable season to wear a sundress. It’s also the kind of undetectable weather for ice cream to melt down the cone, onto unsuspecting fingers curled into the dry waffle texture. Yoongi makes that well aware by poking your cheek with his sticky finger, garnering several pictures of the encounter. 

Seokjin has even tried to implement studio life into his constant narrative to keep up the facade of your relationship with Yoongi. While the pair of you go on these occasional dates, Yoongi also has a deadline to fulfill with his album release. On the days where dates are not planned out, he’ll be in the studio—rearranging songs to fit in with the music beats that have more or less been tapered down to perfection. As his manager, sometimes you find yourself staying past your allotted time slot of being at the studio, before sneaking into the recording booth way past midnight to see what Yoongi and Namjoon are up to. 

Just as it follows: you straighten up, craning your neck backwards a little to allow for slight muscle extensions after sitting at a desk for an extra hour too long. With Yoongi’s album steadily approaching, there are interviews that need to be arranged, magazines and newspapers and radio shows alike all reaching out to you for the opportunity to cover Yoongi’s growth as an artist. Albums also equate to tours to help promote the album, and with the close call from Yoongi’s last experience with such, it means that you need to book more locations—or the same location across multiple dates. 

Overall, the growing pile of work means that you and everyone else at KSJ Studios are just as anticipated for Yoongi’s album release as the general public. It seems as if his collective fanbase are hoping and waiting under the same parameters: was the album going to be as good as they were expecting? 

You shoulder your purse, stepping out of your office and shutting it behind you. You navigate through the hallways, glancing sideways to peek out the long glassway of windows, all overlooking the city skyline, the multicolor lights flickering ahead in the distance. You quirk a lip. 

Your usual brisk pace dies down when you pass the studio you know Yoongi and Namjoon are recording in. The soundproof walls inside mean that hardly any music ever seeps out from between the cracks, only heightening your curiosity. Your busy schedule recently has made it so you have hardly been able to hear what Yoongi and Namjoon have come up with. 

You glance down at your watch. It was nearing midnight. Well, you think to yourself, a little peek wouldn’t hurt. You reach over to grip the door handle, pushing it down and pushing it open. Inside is the usual scene: Yoongi behind the glass, his fingers curled around the headphones as he speaks into the microphone. His voice filters through the main studio area, where Namjoon sits behind computers and music panels, capturing every single second of what is going on. 

Further driven by curiosity, you find yourself pulling harder at the door to let yourself in. Namjoon turns at the sound, but softens a little when he sees that it’s you. 

“Burning the midnight oil?” You tease, standing next to Namjoon at the table, watching Yoongi’s closed eyes as he loses himself in the song. 

Namjoon grins back. “You’re not gonna tell us to stop, are you?” 

“Hey.” You bring both arms up in a sign of surrender. “I’m off the clock on this one. Just wanted to see what you two were up to.” 

Suddenly, Yoongi calls your name from behind the glass, as the noise is amplified through the studio. You jump slightly, having not expected to be noticed so soon. Yoongi waves. “It’s late!” He calls. “What are you still doing here?” 

You lean forward to press the button that opens the two-way communication. “I’m not sure you heard, but there’s an artist in this studio that’s working on an upcoming album—it’s causing a lot of pain for the rest of us.” 

Yoongi laughs at that. “Touche, touche.” He brightens up slightly. “Hey, we’re wrapping up on this song, so if you stick around I’ll drive you home.” 

This is a natural offer for Yoongi to make, considering the extent to which you’ve spent long nights here. Brushing it off as nothing more than Yoongi just being a good pal, you nod and flash him a thumbs up. “Sounds good, sounds good. But take your time. Don’t let me get in the way.” 

You turn around, allowing the music of Yoongi’s song to refilter back through the studio. You park yourself atop the couch at the back, settling into the soft cushions. Come to think of it, falling asleep definitely isn’t the worst thing in the world to do—especially on this couch. And you’re exhausted, what with scheduling events all day and having to burn through your social battery by making one too many phone calls with various people within the industry. 

The last thing you remember is Yoongi’s soft humming that fades away into a quiet static. 

You jerk awake after what feels like a few minutes—but judging from your new position on the couch (horizontal this time, instead of vertical) and the blanket that has been tucked under your chin, you realize quickly that this few minutes has actually been a few hours. It might be hard to believe that, because the world around you still seems very similar to what it had been when you fell asleep. The lack of windows in the studio make it very difficult to distinguish time—although Yoongi’s voice sounds much closer than it had when you first fell asleep. 

You sit up. 

Namjoon and Yoongi jolt at your sudden movement. “Woah! She’s awake now,” Yoongi teases. 

Blinking for a few seconds, you turn your head to find Yoongi out of the recording booth and instead sitting at one of the tables in the actual studio setting. Surrounding Namjoon and Yoongi looks like an entire McDonalds family meal: chicken nuggets, $1 menu burgers, lots of french fries… 

You let out a breath to help further situate you to your new surroundings. “Min Yoongi…” You start, voice hoarse. “You said you were just finishing up.” 

“I was,” Yoongi explains, looking vaguely guilty. Only vaguely though. “But I had this sudden epiphany, like holy shit you really had to be here—it was crazy.” 

“I was here,” You choke out. 

Yoongi waves you off. “You know what I mean—here here. Anyways, yeah, we realized that we couldn’t leave, especially when I got Namjoon on the same page. He was just as excited as I was!” 

Namjoon slaps his hand. “Don’t drag me into this!” 

Yoongi ignores him. “Anyways, it’s like two in the morning and we got hungry. McDonalds is the food of champions, after all. You hungry? Here, have some water first.” He grabs a bottle of water from the table and unscrews the cap. Suddenly, he’s standing up and making his way towards the couch. He sits down next to you, offering the water to you. “Here. You must be thirsty.” 

You are. Still heavy-lidded too, but you try your best to blink away the exhaustion as you blindly reach for the water and manage to grab it after Yoongi adjusts his own angled arm. He watches you as you tilt your head back to down some of the water, accidentally drinking a little more than your mouth can handle. Some of it slides down the corner of your lip, making you angle your head back properly and remove your lips from the bottle head. 

Yoongi softens a little at your clumsy nature, tugging the sleeve of his long-sleeved forward in order to pat the corner of your mouth. “Aw, look at my tiny little baby, can’t even drink water properly,” He coos. 

You flinch slightly away from him, trying for a glare that comes out more like a pout. Yoongi laughs softly at the sight. “There are no cameras around us, Min Yoongi,” You grumble out. “You don’t need to be so attentive.” 

“Nevermind that, I’m just trying to be a friend. You want a french fry?” He reaches across the space separating the couch from the table, and grabs the box of salty french fries. His voice carries that usual positive disposition from previously, but the light in his eyes has died down a little. You don’t notice it, too busy looking at the french fries and realizing that you are actually a little hungry. 

The remainder of Yoongi and Namjoon’s break is dedicated to finishing up the family meal, before Yoongi looks at the clock and claps his hands together. “Hey Namjoon, I think I should take my girl home before we get back to working. Is that okay?” 

Namjoon’s eyes flicker between the two of you, but he relents. “Of course.” He utters your name. “Have a good night.” 

“I should be saying that to you,” You return teasingly, more of your senses have returned since putting food into your stomach. “See you tomorrow, Namjoon.” 

So Yoongi takes you home, driving through the darkened streets, making light conversation with you, completely ignoring the fact that he has just addressed you as his girl, before your phone starts to buzz in your lap. It’s a notification from Instagram, saying that Namjoon has tagged you in a picture. Raising an eyebrow, you tap the alert, which takes you to a picture from just a few minutes ago—you and Yoongi at the studio, Yoongi tapping gently at your face with his sweater paw. The caption burns into your mind: three am company, ft my favorite artist and his favorite girl. 

His favorite girl. 

His girl. 

.

.

CHAPTER 5: HIS GIRL 

. 

Yoongi’s album is entitled Y2, and it releases in the autumn, when the leaves are colored orange and the breeze has called for cozy jackets and big sweaters. It’s the perfect attire to wear as the earphones get plugged in and slipped into ears—curled up by soft cashmere and Yoongi’s luring voice. He’s got about sixteen songs on the album, a sweet mixture of loose beats and soft vocal voices that seem to simultaneously battle the drawn out harsh tone of stories extended across various three minute arrangements. The stories cover the low point—passive aggressive fights, of late nights, of “holding your hand, being so close, yet feeling so lonely”. But the songs also touch on the high points—coming back together, of soft morning light, of “being with you, wiping the traces of exhaustion from the corner of your lips, so close yet so far away, and still knowing you’re all I [he] could ever want”. 

At least, it is what one article touches upon in a Y2 review, where the journalist gives high remarks to Yoongi’s album. She calls it a refreshing interpretation of music, continuing in the era of singers actually singing about their feelings. More than that, an era of storytelling in music. Of anything, of life, of the highs and the lows—the sadness, the happiness, the softness. 

Safe to say that Yoongi is very excited to read this review on his phone, along with the surplus of positive things people have to say—from highly regarded journalists who belong to highly regarded newspaper companies, from social media, from his friends and family. Most especially, from you. You: whose hand he holds underneath the table as the numbers of listens start pouring in from various streaming websites. 

He’s been nervous about this. He’s put his blood, sweat, and tears into the creation of this album, every song has been nailed down to perfection. His name, and his heart, is back out into the world. 

The night of the album release is the launch party. 

“Dude, it’s supposed to be a chill night,” Jungkook calls from the hallway, and you can’t help but laugh at how exasperated the boy sounds. “Would you just calm down?” Jungkook emerges from the aforementioned hallway. Despite his mention of this ‘chill night’, he’s still wearing something vaguely casual chic. “You’re his manager. Manage his overthinking tendencies.” 

You laugh, watching as Jungkook plops down into the empty spot next to you on the couch, immediately leaning back into the cushion. “You know as well as I do that I don’t have that much control over him.” 

Jungkook shrugs his shoulders. “You probably have more control than you think.” 

Before you can ask more questions, think more deeply into what the fuck Jungkook means by that, his eyes land on the hallway entrance before straightening up in the cusion. Your eyes follow Jungkook’s movement, where Yoongi is now standing in the once vacant space of his apartment. But his stance isn’t what gets you to stare, what makes your breath feel like it has just caught in your chest. Although he’s following the ‘casual chic’ dress code that Seokjin has ordered, there’s something about a white t-shirt that hits differently when it’s paired with a coat and dark jeans that highlight his long legs. 

Yoongi gestures down at what he’s wearing meekly. “What do you think?” Although it appears that he’s addressing both you and Jungkook, his gaze is almost entirely fixed on you. 

Trying hard to ignore the racing of your heart, you straighten up and somehow manage to make your way over to him without snapping your ankle on your chunky platform boots. Doing your best to pay attention to his outfit over his face, you reach over to straighten out the silver necklace he’s got dangling at his chest. “You look good,” You settle calmly. “And Jungkook is right—it’s supposed to be a chill night. Seokjin just invited people from the label. And some of your friends as well. Relax a bit, will you?” 

Finally, you force yourself to level your gaze with Yoongi’s, fully confident that he’s just staring at you and probably wondering why you aren’t making eye contact with him. But when you do manage to glance at Yoongi’s face, you realize quickly that he’s not even staring at you. Instead, he’s staring down, at the curve of your throat. 

Without warning, your cardiac system seems to pump itself too hard, because your breath of surprise comes out through your nose, effectively bringing up and lowering your lungs so fast that anyone would be able to read your vital sounds now. This proves to be true, because Yoongi’s gaze darts up from your neck to your eyes so quickly, that you probably wouldn’t have noticed had you stuck around without looking at his eyes. Doing that, however, might have saved you from this now tricky situation. “Sorry,” Yoongi manages, eyes flickering between yours. “I, uh, didn’t hear what you said.” 

You realize the gravity of your position—your fingers now curled around the lapels of Yoongi’s jacket and one of his hands curled around your waist. That gravitational pull from every single one of your dates with Yoongi comes back again, curling around your neck and seeming to push you closer, closer—! 

Jungkook coughs loudly from behind you. 

You and Yoongi tear your gazes away from each other, as you uncurl both of your fingers from around Yoongi’s coat. “I-uh,” You start. “Was just saying that you should relax a little. You don’t have to try and impress anyone tonight.” 

Yoongi sneaks one last glance at you. “We’ll see,” He says, before stepping away from you and brushing past Jungkook to make his way towards the door. Jungkook turns to look at you, wide-eyed and mouthing the words ‘what the fuck was that?’ 

To which you shake your head, very sure that you don’t want to get into this tonight of all nights. This was supposed to be a celebration for Yoongi. Just as you’ve done for the past few months, you can continue to keep your emotions in check. Easy-peasy. 

Except it’s not easy-peasy because you see Seokjin at the club that he’s reserved for Yoongi’s album release party, and you realize that this is not a chill event for you—you still have to keep up the facade of your relationship in front of everyone. 

Yoongi seems to realize this at the same time you do, because he inches closer to you and laces your fingers together. From afar, Seokjin nods in an unspoken confirmation regarding your behavior. 

The beginning of the party starts with the trickle in of the various guests Seokjin has invited—from the friends he has made in the business, to others signed under the KSJ records label, to you, Jungkook, and Yoongi’s personal friends from college. The onslaught of new people fills you with the usual sense of excitement after not having attended a party in what feels like years. Working as a manager for a budding new artist is a lot less about the parties and more about the hustle. 

The first hour of the event is dedicated to the mingling of people—of free food and conversations around the bottomless cocktails that every guest rushes to the bar to take full advantage of. It’s nice to be able to catch up with the friends that you and Yoongi haven’t spoken to since graduation—which is the group you and Yoongi first approach, as Yoongi is slinging his arm around one Park Jimin. The latter whose eyes widen and lips curl up into a grin at the sight of the two of you. It’s nice to see an old friend again, it almost brings you back to a time where you and Yoongi were both in-tune and surface-level friends.

“Hey, congratulations on the new album release!” Jimin exclaims brightly after the three of you have acquired some drinks from the bartender. Jimin raises his drink first, to which you and Yoongi follow suit. 

As the glasses clink into the air, Jimin adds in another thing that reminds you of the fact that you and Yoongi are not back in college. You are here, in the present, with a fake relationship on the line. 

“And congratulations to your relationship announcement,” Jimin continues. 

You cough on your drink at that, lowering the glass immediately, feeling guilty all of a sudden. “Jimin, I know what all those reports have been saying…” 

“Don’t worry,” Jimin brushes off. “I read through some of them. You guys have been dating for three years, right? I’m honestly surprised I never saw it. In hindsight, it makes sense.” Jimin takes a longer sip, gesturing towards Yoongi with a noise of acknowledgement coming from his throat. “Hm—I guess because you guys are dating now, I can let the cat out of the bag—but, Yoongi liked you from the first moment he met you.” 

Now it’s Yoongi’s turn to choke on his drink, his chest heaving as he coughs into his sleeve. “Jimin, ah, you don’t need to talk about that—!” 

Jimin laughs, naturally assuming that Yoongi’s choke was done out of shyness and not something deeper than that. “What, you think just because this happened when we were at college, I wouldn’t have said something all these years later?” 

You can’t help but smile at their exchange. Although Jimin’s comment about Yoongi’s crush definitely piques your interest. You turn to Yoongi. “You had a crush on me back then?” 

Yoongi opens his mouth, but Jimin beats him to it. “Oh yeah, he wouldn’t shut up about you—said that you had this smile like starlight and were super easy to talk to.” 

“You have a great memory for someone who almost flunked college algebra,” Yoongi bites out hotly. 

Jimin, clearly oblivious to the situation, laughs out loud. “I agree. Normally I would have forgotten all about that. But.” With Jimin’s fingers still curled around the wine glass, he is only able to point an index finger out at Yoongi. “I’ll never forget that look in your eyes. Like you saw something you were never going to let go of.” 

You know Jimin is the one talking, but you cannot help but look at Yoongi as you feel your world spinning slightly around you. You blame it on the alcohol—as small of a sip as you have taken so far. Jimin, unlike a lot of the other parties you’ve been spending your time with, is not in on the joke of your relationship with Yoongi being a PR cover story. So there has to be some merit to it. Right? 

Right? 

Before you can even think how to phrase the billions of questions flying through your mind, the soft beat of a hand against a microphone sounds through the bar, as the original music that has been pounding through the club gets lowered to show that someone is trying to command everyone’s attention. 

It’s Kim Seokjin, situated at the stage, with the microphone in hand. “Hey everyone! Before we actually start unveiling the numbers that Y2 has hit so far, I just want to say a few words. First of all, thank you everyone so much for joining us tonight as we celebrate the anticipated release of Min Yoongi’s album.” 

Lots of claps sound from the guests, several cheers, one of you and Jimin join in just for the sake of embarrassing Yoongi. If he’s flustered with the attention, he’s gotten a lot better at hiding it. 

“Actually,” Seokjin continues. “Why don’t we have the man of the hour join us? After all, my words don’t mean shit up here—I wasn’t the one who just released new music. Yoongi, come on up!” 

Lots more claps and cheers, and the music volume increases dramatically just to give Yoongi some sort of platform to enter on. It makes you laugh. Seokjin is clearly having fun with his role. So you watch, sticking by Jimin, as Yoongi emerges from the crowd to step onto the stage. Seokjin pulls the microphone away from the pair of them as he leans over to whisper something into Yoongi’s ear, where the latter nods a few times before accepting the microphone that is now being extended out to him. 

Yoongi clears his throat, speaking over the lowering music. “Hi guys, thanks so much for coming out,” He starts, laughing a little when there is another round of cheers. “As I’m sure a lot of you know, this is my first full length album that’s being released out into the world and it’s basically everything I ever could have dreamed of. One lesson that I’ve learned is that making albums of both the cover songs I did and the original songs I would produce in my shitty college apartment is a completely different experience than getting professional equipment to do a lot of the work for me.” 

You laugh at that, the memories floating through your mind. 

Yoongi smiles a little at the feedback he gets. But he continues. “And of course a lot of that professional equipment was able to work in my favor because I had helped. Seokjin of course, deserves a thank you for letting me learn and experiment with new sounds, and for letting me take a risk by trying out beats and stories that a lot of people might have turned down. And Namjoon.” He seems to spot Namjoon from the crowd, because he delivers a nod. “For being more than my favorite producer, but also my mentor and my guide. We had a lot of lightbulb late nights together. And finally…” His eyes land on you, and you feel yourself self-consciously straighten up. “Y/N—my Y/N. For those of you who don’t know, my girlfriend is my manager and we recently made our relationship public. I thought the transition from private to public would have been the hardest thing of my life, but she made it so easy. Just as she’s always made it so easy to inspire my music, to be my best friend—and to love her.” 

Love. 

You suddenly feel like you’re seeing the world through a small lens, unable to believe the words you are hearing and the sights you are seeing. Yoongi is staring right back at you, with all this love and adoration in his eyes, lips quirking up as a result of the coos from the audience. 

It’s a vague kind of spotlight anxiety from seeing so many people looking at you considering the circumstances. It’s a feeling that only heightens when Yoongi opens his mouth again to continue speaking. “Actually, honey, why don’t you come up here, so I can thank you properly.” 

The whoops and cheers sound again, and Jimin has to nudge you in the ribs to get you to move. Your initial thoughts are one of panic, suspicion, and curiosity. One glance at Seokjin’s direction conveys the high influx of questions that are flowing through your mind—what exactly are those two boys planning? 

Yoongi’s hand extends out to you, helping you up onto the stage, as you turn around to face the crowd of people Yoongi has just been addressing. Of course, you have less experience hiding your general shyness around crowds, so the most you can muster is a smile and a wave. 

Yoongi laughs into the microphone. “Don’t worry baby, I didn’t call you up to embarrass you. I just wanted to show you that all of this…” He gestures to the whole club, the crowds of people who have taken time out of their schedule to show support, the sounds of his album now filtering through the speakers. “All of this was possible because you believed in me, you supported me, and agreed to help me work toward my dream. This is all as much yours as it is mine.” 

Then, he surprises you by leaning forward to brush his lips across your cheek—a gesture that further incites a bigger reaction of positive cheers and hoots from the audience. You turn your head immediately towards him as soon as he pulls away, your eyes wide with surprise. After all, you and Yoongi have never discussed the rule on kissing before, have never brought up any sort of lip contact to any degree. His boldness is something that takes you completely off guard. 

And judging from the uncertain look that dances behind his eyes, a flicker that only you can see and decipher, you can tell that he hadn’t been expecting that from himself either. 

You’re about to pull away, maybe walk off the stage and take another drink to whatever the fuck that was all about, before Jimin’s familiar voice sounds off from within the crowd. 

“You call that a kiss, Min Yoongi?” Jimin calls, close enough now that it’s easier to see him. “C’mon, kiss your girlfriend like you mean it!” 

The rest of the crowd immediately catches onto what Jimin is doing, and they play into it immediately. Suddenly, shouts of “KISS HER, KISS HER!” sound throughout the guests. 

The new direction that this has taken over the span of just a few seconds seconds you into another wild onslaught of differing emotions. Nevermind the fact that you’ve never agreed to actually kiss Min Yoongi. Obviously, the internal choice has been made for a handful of reasons, none of which you can explain to Yoongi or Seokjin without digging yourself further into this hole where you would truly have no way of escaping.

Which is why you clearly can’t say anything of protest right now. Everyone thinks the pair of you have been dating for years, and that kissing has become a natural action for you both to do. Of course they would play into Jimin’s game, thinking nothing harmful of it. 

Your heart pounds loudly in your ears as you shift your gaze from the crowd of people before you to Yoongi, who looks equally as stunned by the request as you. He plays it off a little bit, however, smiling as he brings the microphone close to his mouth again. “I’m not sure you all would want to be subjected by some PDA, especially you over there, Park.” 

Jimin makes a noise of disapproval. “It’ll just be this one time! I’m sure people don’t mind! Spread the love, Min.” 

Other people from the guest list add on that they don’t mind in between their laughter and giggles, probably writing off you and Yoongi’s shy disposition as just that: a shy, private couple who is still getting used to the watchful eye of the general public. Nevermind the fact that you and Yoongi have just never kissed each other before. 

Yoongi then turns to look at you, microphone down to his legs so that it can’t pick up the small whispers the pair of you start exchanging. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought you up here…” 

“No, no, it’s fine, I understand why you did it…” You trail off. “Kissing my cheek, on the other hand…” 

Yoongi groans. “Yeah, that’s my bad. Seokjin said I could consider doing it but I wasn’t thinking when I leaned over. I completely forgot that Jimin is a menace to society. I’m gonna kick his ass after this.” 

You want to continue this private, side-lined conversation, but it is overrun by the louder voices that keep repeating the same two lines over and over again: “KISS HER, KISS HER!” until the echoes of it start ringing in your ear drums. 

Yoongi switches topics to the more pressing one at hand. “So, uh, I guess we should…” 

You exhale quickly, nodding. “It seems so…” 

Yoongi inches closer to you, his breath fanning your lips as your eyes instinctively close. “I’m sorry,” He whispers, the final thing he says to you before he kisses you. 

Now, let’s backtrack a little. You’ve liked Yoongi for years, so to say that you’ve never thought of this moment would just be a lie to yourself. Of course you’ve thought about kissing Yoongi. Or, at the very least, you’ve caught yourself staring at his lips when he would go off on another spiral about his passions. That type of talking is very hot, so what? 

But you never thought you would be able to experience it, to kiss the lips you’ve flickered your eyes to more times than you’re willing to admit. So as soon as you feel the weight of his mouth against your own, your brain goes haywire. Suddenly, all your senses are hyper focused on Yoongi—from his lips, to the warmth of his body wrapping itself around you, to his fingers curled around your wrist. 

You hardly hear the cheers from the audience, too busy allowing your heart to melt into butterflies as he presses harder into you, moving his lips against yours. You part your lips as well, curling your wrist to gather the material of his shirt into your hands. 

It feels like time has stretched out before Seokjin claps both of you on the back, forcing you to jolt away from Yoongi. He actually looks flustered this time—pink cheeks and reddened lips, his eyes are fixated on you, chest heaving. You feel like you’re in a similar state of shock, especially because kissing Yoongi makes something dawn on you. A realization of ice cold water. 

This isn’t just a crush you’ve harbored on Yoongi for the past few years. This isn’t just some small schoolgirl crush living out a fantasy, or something you can easily brush off, or simple butterflies you can squash everytime he reaches out to hold your hand. This is love. You’re in love with your best friend. And you have absolutely no fucking clue what to do about it. 

If the audience is taken aback by this long-term couple in front of them looking zero point two seconds away from devouring each other in a frenzied passion, no one settles long enough to comment or stare upon it for too long. Seokjin does well to grab the microphone from Yoongi and bring the attention back to the actual party on hand. He mentions another round of free alcohol, which are two words that can take anyone’s attention away. 

“And Yoongi, uh, I actually need to borrow for you a moment,” Seokjin murmurs in a low voice. “So I hope I’m not taking away from…” He trails off, gesturing awkwardly between the two of you. “Whatever this is…” 

“Oh no!” You interject quickly, taking a step away from Yoongi. “Not taking away at all.” 

Yoongi gives you a concerned look. “Maybe we should, uh, talk about that…” 

You shake your head. “No, it’s okay, seriously.” You shrug a shoulder. “Just part of the act, right?” 

Yoongi’s concern melts away into something that might be hurt, but it’s gone just as quickly as it had come. “I’ll try not to be long then.” 

You nod. “Yeah, no problem—no need to rush or anything… I’ll just be hanging out with Jimin…” 

Yoongi gazes at you for a few seconds longer, before he lets himself get dragged off the stage by Seokjin. Rather than immediately go out to seek your old friend, you find your gaze following after the two of them, trying to see where exactly Yoongi is getting roped into. 

You continue to trail after them in the club, until the two of them are pulled into a booth—the person opposite of them makes your lips part in utter shock. 

. 

“Yoongi, I want you to meet an old friend of mine,” Seokjin starts as he and Yoongi dive deeper into the thrones of people. Yoongi feels himself being directed towards a corner booth, currently occupied by two people. “She wanted me to introduce you.” Finally, the pair of them stop at the head of the table. “This is Lee Jieun.” 

Right off the bat, Yoongi is vaguely insulted that Seokjin thought that someone like Lee Jieun needed an introduction—because who wouldn’t know who Lee Jieun? 

Lee Jieun, like Yoongi, is a singer-songwriter with a sweetheart reputation, who weaves stories and experiences through her music. But unlike Yoongi, who got his start through Youtube and built himself from the ground up, Lee Jieun signed into a record label at the age of 15. As one could tell, she was that talented. Still is, as a matter of fact. Her albums are continuously winning awards, establishing herself in the charts, connecting with people all over the world. He would know—when Yoongi finally discovered Jieun in the midst of his Youtuber days, it was the catalyst that served as the biggest influence towards the release of his original songs. The fact that they’re both the same age only makes Yoongi even more in awe of her. 

Yoongi being able to see Lee Jieun, in the flesh, is a powerful enough sight to leave him speechless. 

Lee Jieun sits at the booth, looking all prettied up with her big eyes and red lips. Everything about her seems regal, from the smile she flashes Yoongi to the hand she extends out towards him. 

It takes a second for Yoongi to register what he needs to do. Hastily, he steps forward and takes her hand in his. Despite her delicate nature, her handshake is firm as the pair of them move their joined hands up and down once. Honestly, considering their status difference, he feels like a handshake is too casual for them, but he doesn’t speak of it. He just basks in the moment, until he lets go of her hand. 

Afterwards, he joins Seokjin in the booth, sliding into his seat. 

Jieun smiles brightly at the two of them. “Thank you for going out of your way to come talk to me. I hope I wasn’t disrupting your night.” 

Yoongi shakes his head immediately. “Oh, god no. Of course not. I’m just—I’m really honored to see you here. I-I had no idea that you were friends with Seokjin.” 

Jieun laughs. “Oh yeah, we go way back—we were actually signed under the same label. Seokjin left to pursue management a few years ago, but we’ve always kept in touch.” She reaches over to take her glass of soda from the table. “He told me when he signed you, you know. He said that you were doing street performances a few cities down?” 

Yoongi flushes at that. “Oh yeah—my origin story.” 

“I mean, everyone starts from somewhere,” Jieun brushes off, laying down her cup again. “So I’ve honestly been looking out for your name since Seokjin signed you. I heard about your tour, but knew that I wanted to wait until your first full length album just to make sure your reputation was a little more fleshed out before bringing up my idea with Seokjin.” 

Yoongi blinks, switching his gaze from Jieun to Seokjin. The latter nods, as if to let him know that Jieun would be the one providing information. So Yoongi turns back to Jieun. 

Jieun continues. “Since it seems that we’ve both developed a songwriting, storytelling reputation amongst the music industry, I was hoping that you’d agree to do a collaboration with me. Just one single, both of our names attached to it. It’s been awhile since I worked with another artist, and I’m sure that doing this will only further put your name out there. It could also be a really good learning experience.” 

Yoongi almost cannot believe his ears. Lee Jieun wanted to do a collaboration? With him and his inexperienced ass? 

Yoongi coughs out in wonder. “Wow.” 

Jieun smirks. “Not what you were expecting?”

“No, no, not at all!” Yoongi reassures, but then he backpedals a little. “I mean, it’s not that I was expecting you to ask for a collaboration—I just—!” He cuts himself off, exhaling heavily to calm his nerves. “It’s just, you were a very big reason I even wanted to sing my original songs back when I was street performing. So the fact that you’re asking me to do a song together is honestly so crazy to me.” 

Jieun grins. “I’m honored—so are you agreeing to my request?” 

Almost on instinct, Yoongi turns to Seokjin. It’s not that Yoongi doesn’t want to do the collab, it’ll probably be the single most greatest thing to happen in his career, but Seokjin was technically his boss and their contract had it so Seokjin usually had to final say in what he believed would be best for him. 

And for the briefest flicker of a second, Yoongi’s mind switches to you. More than Seokjin’s approval, he finds himself seeking your praise the most. After all, you know how much he admires Lee Jieun. He wants to share this moment with you. 

Instead of jumping up to go find you, he forces himself to stay rooted to his seat. “I-I think I would be the one who feels honored. T-That is, if Seokjin says it’s okay.” 

Seokjin holds his arms out. “Of course it’s okay! The collaboration was also partly my idea. Anywho.” He turns back to Jieun. “We’ll have to run through Yoongi’s schedule with his manager just to see when he’s available. But after that, we can get started.” 

At the mention of you, Yoongi’s manager, Jieun’s eyes brighten with her smile. “Oh yes, your girlfriend.” She sits a little straighter, trying to seek you out. “She’s here at the event right? I’d really love to meet her, if that’s okay?” 

Yoongi nods immediately. “O-Of course!” He also sits up a little straighter, moving about in his seat to try and locate you. He finds you near the bar, seeming to have ditched your hang-out with Jimin, as you take an occasional sip of your drink. “She’s over there.” 

With a nod, the three of them move out of the booth and towards the bar, where you’re still slouched over, scrolling through Instagram on your phone. You seem to notice their approaching presence, because you take a quick glance over to acknowledge them, before doing a double take when you realize who else is in Yoongi’s company. 

“Oh my gosh!” You exclaim, immediately sliding out of your bar stool, your gaze fixated on Jieun. 

Seokjin laughs at your starstruck reaction. “Y/N, this is Lee Jieun—but I’m guessing you already knew that?” 

You seem to realize your behavior, because your shyness comes back. “I do. Um, hi! It’s really nice to meet you.” You reach over to offer your hand. 

Jieun takes it, shaking for a second. “The pleasure is all mine.” 

Your gaze immediately flints to Yoongi. “Yoongi, you didn’t tell me that you were acquainted with Lee Jieun herself!” 

Yoongi waves you off. “Actually, Seokjin is the mutual party.” 

Your lips part in shock, as you nod once, twice, in understanding. “Well, uh, in that case, I hope you’re having a good time tonight, Jieun.” 

“It’s really a wonderful launch party,” Jieun praises. “But I do admit to having ulterior motives. I actually came by to ask Yoongi if he wanted to work on a collab song with me.” 

Your lips part, and Yoongi feels a vague sense of pride swell up in his chest when you turn to look at him, eyes brighter than they have been all night. “Yoongi! That’s so amazing! I hope you agreed.” 

“I did, actually,” Yoongi says with the nod of his head. If you notice that he’s puffing his chest out a little as your words go straight to his head, you don’t comment on it. “We’ll definitely have to go over my schedule with you, pick some dates where Jieun and I can have some writing sessions, and then the recording sessions, just to name the big picture stuff that’ll have to get done. But we should all be good to go.” 

As Yoongi continues to list everything that’ll need to be done in order to create music together, your gaze shifts between Yoongi and Jieun occasionally, taking in their equal excitement and passion for the long project ahead. It isn’t until the end, when you and Yoongi leave the launch party, after having collected praise and much more from the many friends and connections that have been gained throughout the night, you enter the car wearing an unreadable expression—like you’re pondering something that threatens to break you. 

. 

To be frank, you aren’t surprised that Lee Jieun asks Yoongi to collaborate together. Sure, maybe she came a little earlier than you had expected, but you always knew it was a matter of time before the pair of them met. Their reputations are too similar, their personalities too good together; you’re sure that fate would have lined them up at some point. 

It just feels like maybe the universe made them a little too perfect for each other—and it’s something that becomes glaringly obvious as a month of songwriting goes by without a hitch. Every few days, Jieun would turn up to KSJ Records, bright-eyed and always looking so, so pretty. Every few days, Jieun and Yoongi would sit next to each other, conversing about the story of their song, both bright-eyed with unbridled affection for what they were writing. And sure, Namjoon would be a part of these songwriting sessions. But that’s not the point. 

The point is that as Yoongi gets bigger and success becomes a more natural occurrence in his life, the more people he’s going to meet with whom he shares a common interest and dedication for. People he would probably (most definitely) get along with a lot better than he could get along with you. Friendship is nice and all, but it can’t substitute for the powerful combination of passion, intimacy, and commitment that comes out of romantic companionship. 

And you see it in his eyes: the excitement he gets when he’s surrounded with like-minded people. You’re Yoongi’s manager, sure, and one of his best friends, obviously, but there’s only so much you can contribute to conversations about the actual music. Truth be told, when it comes to editing, you just do whatever Yoongi tells you to. And don’t even get you started on the music arrangements—you can’t even lift a candle to what Yoongi himself can do. Or Namjoon. Or especially Lee Jieun. 

And although you know that Yoongi means no ill-intention, it feels as if he takes every opportunity to remind you of that fact. 

“I mean, she’s amazing.” He’s sighing dreamily over his bulgogi. The pair of you are at a corner booth in a Korean barbeque restaurant, on another fake date Seokjin has prearranged for you. It’s not the first date you’ve been on since Jieun entered the picture, and it’s definitely not the first time Yoongi is bringing her up. And although this isn’t even a real date, and although this isn’t a real relationship, there’s only so much you can take—both as a friend and as someone who is starting to feel the curl of jealousy in your stomach. 

Still, you refuse to let the cat out of the bag. So you sigh, picking up your chopsticks and digging into your meat. The only thing you can manage is: “I bet she is.” 

But Yoongi doesn’t stop there. “You should have seen her today, she was on fire. Songwriting abilities, obviously. We were stuck on this one part of the song, but then she just swooped in with this perfect one-liner that made my heart drop. Seriously, it was so cool. I don’t know how her mind works, but I want to keep hanging out with her to learn more.” 

You almost drop your meat completely into your salt dish, but you recover quickly with a cough. The noise helps cover up the fact that your heart feels the white-hot burn of frustration and confusion. “W-Well, you guys do make a good team. You know, being on the same level talent-wise.” 

Yoongi laughs at that, completely oblivious to your state of mind. “Talent-wise? I wouldn’t say I’m anywhere near the level Jieun is at…” 

As he trails off, you dare yourself to flicker your gaze up to him, seeing the pink flush that dusts along his cheeks. Interpreting this as shyness for the internal praise and fondness he has for Jieun, you look away and pick up the plate of raw beef brisket to dump into the grill. 

Yoongi notices what you’re doing, and immediately reaches over to take the plate from you. “Here, let me do it.” 

A part of you wants to fight about it, but you know doing so will just lead you down the path of no man’s land. So you let go, offering the tongs to Yoongi as he takes it to scrap the meat into the grill between the two of you. He takes the silence as an opportunity to further gush about Jieun, and how he can’t wait to work on music arrangements with her, how he’s excited to record the song with her, so on and so forth. 

How could you even contribute to a conversation like this? He’s talking to you about a girl in a way that reminds you of your college days—back when the pair of you were strictly friends and nothing more, and he would talk to you about girls he thought were cute. It feels a little bit like right now. Yoongi and Jieun do make a good team, they get along together, and have formed a closeness within such a short period of time that anyone passing by the studio would assume they’ve been friends for years. Or, even further, that they were dating. At the very least, Yoongi speaks highly enough of Jieun that one could assume that she was the one he liked, and not you. 

It feels a little bit like being left behind—it’s a thought that only continues to fester. 

.

It takes a few more weeks, but you eventually draft up Yoongi’s tour schedule. It’s a few sheets of paper that detail the duration of the tour, the cities, the locations, the dates of each location, the size of the venue, how ticket distribution will work, on, and on, and on—all information that Yoongi has insisted on knowing about ever since he was signed into KSJ Records. The man just likes to know what his fans have to go through in order to see him, and you respect that. 

However, before you can officially create the tour post that’ll be up on the KSJ Records social media account, it needs to go through a final approval: from Yoongi himself. And because he likes to take notes with paper and pen, like the old-fashioned songwriter he is, he’s asked you to print everything out for him. 

This is what leads you to stand near the printer in your office, waiting for the last page to print and slide into your awaiting hands. Once all the pages come out, you flip through them to make sure that every city on the tour is accounted for. You turn back to your desk, collecting some magazines that have been stacked on top of your table. 

Along with getting the setlist for the tour, Yoongi had also asked you to get a hold of some magazines and articles that provided reviews from his first tour. Something about wanting to read any critiques people might have had for his show.

You gather the small stack as well before sliding it into your bag and stepping out into the hall. It’s surprisingly early for you to be leaving your office, the late afternoon, but there’s a part of you that just wants to give the document stack to Yoongi and dip out for the rest of the night. By now, the doubts of Yoongi’s affection for Jieun has dug itself deeper into your mind and letting yourself be around Yoongi for too long brings up too many questions that cannot be good for your mentality. 

Questions like: If he could, would Yoongi prefer to date Jieun for real? 

Was Jieun better than you? 

And the best one of them all: Were you just holding Yoongi back from better relationships? 

You continue to walk down the hallway of the building, your pace a little slower than normal because of the cloudy thoughts that threaten to overtake your mind. Finally, you stop outside of the studio you know Yoongi and Jieun are recording in. You take in a deep breath, forcing your usual cheery personality to shine through as you pull down on the handle and let yourself into the studio. 

As soon as you step inside, you almost wish that you had just slid the documents under the door. The sight of that would probably have been easier to process than the one in front of your eyes right now. 

Namjoon, as usual at the desk surrounded by music panels and laptops, playing the recently finished music through the recording booth situated on the other side of the glass. Behind this aforementioned sheet of glass are Jieun and Yoongi. With headphones on, they’re standing next to each other behind the microphone. Their shoulders practically touching, you don’t miss the way they both keep sneaking glances at each other, the corner of their lips turning up, looking like they’re having the best time together. 

You try not to slam down the door behind you, but your grip on the knob is a little too harsh to call for a softer click. Fortunately (or unfortunately, given how much fun Yoongi and Jieun look like they’re having—wait, did Jieun just touch Yoongi’s arm), neither of them notice your arrival. 

Namjoon, however, notices. 

He turns around to look at you. “Hey, what’s up?” 

You try for a smile, your hand brushing against the door. “Sorry, I slipped a little,” You lie cleanly. You hold up the documents in your other hand. “Yoongi wanted me to prepare a few things for him, stuff for the upcoming tour.” 

Namjoon gestures for you to sit next to him, something that you follow. As soon as you sit down, Namjoon asks to see these aforementioned documents, which you pull out of your bag and hand over to him. It’s quiet between the two of you, the only sounds being the laughs and giggles between Yoongi and Jieun—as if one has them as just told a secret only understood between them. It’s a feeling that doesn’t settle well in your stomach. 

“Wow, this is very efficient,” Namjoon observes, seeming completely oblivious to your internal seething. 

You shrug, eyes still locked in on the inside of the recording booth. “Yoongi asked for the best, so I gave him the best. Hey, so—!” You change topics. “Is there a reason they’re in the booth together? Don’t a lot of collabs nowadays just exchange everything virtually?” 

Namjoon hums. “I didn’t know the jealous girlfriend was a full time act of yours now.” He’s clearly just trying to have fun. After all, only Taehyung and Jungkook know about your crush on Yoongi. “But honestly? I’m not too sure. They just wanted to go in together—said that they could be more personal when working in a face-to-face setting. And they’re actually making a lot of changes as they keep going through the song and hearing how the music is turning out. They’re a good team.” 

Namjoon’s usage of the very same phrase that has been haunting you for the past few weeks doesn’t sit well in your stomach. 

Namjoon returns the documents to you. “Did you want to talk to him now? See if he’s cool with you just dropping it off?” 

You nod. “If that’s okay?” 

Namjoon smiles. “We’ll just wait until they take a breath.” 

Waiting doesn’t turn out to take a long time, because Jieun stops the song to make another statement about what line should replace the one they just sung. And Yoongi looks at her like she’s just hung up all the stars in the galaxy. 

“Namjoon, do you mind starting the song over? We got a new idea for this part,” Jieun calls from inside the booth. 

Namjoon leans forward to press the button. “Actually, you guys have some company.” 

You lean forward as well. “Hey guys.” 

Jieun grins, waving at you through the window. Yoongi acknowledges you as well, but there’s something suddenly stiff about his movements. You notice that he’s also stepping away from Jieun, as if to hide what has been going on between him and Jieun. As if that makes you feel any fucking better. 

“Hey, uh, Yoongi?” You continue. “I have the documents you asked me to prepare for you. I can just leave it here for you to go over if that’s cool. Maybe take a little bit of time today to go over everything.” 

Yoongi thinks about this for a moment. “Actually… honey,” He adds the pet name as an afterthought. “Do you mind dropping it off at my apartment? We’re probably just gonna be focusing on the song until pretty late tonight.” 

The acknowledgement Yoongi has that he and Jieun are in for another late night only grows the seeds of doubt in your mind, as you clench your teeth. You can’t let your insecurities get the best of you. Not now. “Sure,” You manage, trying for a small. 

Yoongi grins. “Thanks baby. I’ll make it up to you this weekend, okay?” 

At this point, it just feels like he’s teasing you and it’s something you find you aren’t really in the mood for. So you manage a curt reply, giving a positive response that you’ll drop by his apartment to deliver the documents regarding his upcoming tour, before you’re up and out of the studio before Jieun, Yoongi, or Namjoon can say one last thing. But you don’t care. The sooner you’re out of there, looking at the heart-eye festival between Jieun and Yoongi, the better you feel. 

So you take the train to Yoongi’s apartment, a now much bigger space in a slightly nicer area of the city. At least, nicer than the college apartment he shared with Jungkook that was no stranger to bed bugs and constant maintenance issues. The newer apartment Yoongi has recently acquired is nicer, has more modern finishes, and is now a space he fills in all by himself. 

As you unlock the door to his apartment, you immediately make your way down the small hallway entrance, where a mirror and his shoes occupy a small corner of the area. The hallway opens up into the living room, and you turn on the light and take in the vaguely familiar sight of his new furniture—home pieces that you helped arrange with him a few months ago. Come to think of it, that was probably the first and last time you had come by Yoongi’s apartment. Before certain life elements got involved. 

Tonguing the inside of your cheek, you plop yourself down on the couch and place the document stack at the corner of the coffee table. It looks rather strange just stacked like that, no context provided, so your eyes shift over for a pen and a post-it note. 

You find a stack of post-it notes, and find a pen sticking out from inside a notebook. Paying little attention to the notebook, you just make a grab for the pen and rip it out of the notebook with the aggression of a gorilla. The notebook flies open, the contents inside barring itself right at you. 

Your immediate reaction is to close the notebook. After all, it just takes one glance at Yoongi’s scrambled handwriting to know that this is one of his writing journals. His most recent one, in fact, judging from how flat the pages after the one currently open appear—like it hasn’t been stained with a pen yet. 

You want to close it—you really do. You and Yoongi have built a friendship on trust. That’s what kept you both together throughout the long years, and you know better than to risk everything just for the chance to scope through what is essentially a songwriter’s diary. 

Your fingers inch towards the edge of the book, about to close it shut, before the title at the top header makes you freeze. 

MY SECRET 

Without meaning to, your eyes read over the lines. And you feel sick to your stomach. 

The song is so raw, so personal, brimming with desire in every verse. It covers lingering stares, secret smiles. A barrier. How Yoongi “wants you more and more with each day, but I know I can’t have you, that I shouldn’t have you”. And you know Yoongi—you know him better than anyone. You know that for all the love songs he sings and the topics he sings about that he feigns ignorance for, he draws on personal experience to write his music. How else could he make everything so personable? 

How could this song not be about Jieun? 

The lingering stares, secret smiles: it clearly points to the events in the recording booth you saw earlier that day, and if he’s writing a song about it, it’s obvious that today hadn’t been the first time for those stares and smiles. 

The barrier: obviously you. The relationship facade he’s forced to put up with you, when he’s clearly so much happier with someone else. 

With those factors, it’s so clear that Yoongi would want Jieun, but would be unable to have her. 

And you’re just the girl in the background with the starry eyes for a guy who would never even look at you the way you want him to. 

That realization brings the hot tears to your eyes, as you slam the notebook shut and bring your hand to your mouth, biting your finger to muffle your sobs. What comes out is the build-up of months of insecurities, of having to keep the biggest secret of your life to yourself, and the additional jealousy brought in by a third party. 

This despair and sadness isn’t good for you, and you know that only continuing to hide it away in light of Yoongi and Jieun’s partnership, in light of your feelings, and Yoongi’s exploding career—you should only be able to handle so much. You’re a human being, and you have your limits. 

And you think this might be it. 

.

.

CHAPTER 6: TRUTHS 

. 

“Y-Yeah, I think it’s food poisoning or something,” You speak quietly into the phone, playing with the edges of your blanket. “I’m really sorry, Seokjin, I’ll try to send out some emails to respond to news outlets today…” 

“Hey, no, you’re totally fine,” Seokjin replies hastily. “I don’t blame you for that. Just try and get some rest today, and update me on how you feel tomorrow.” A pause. “What was it?”

“Uh, it must have been in the takeout I got last night.” That’s a lie. You cooked your own dinner last night, and are lying straight through your teeth regarding your condition, but you can’t find it in yourself to go to work today. Not since the discovery of Yoongi’s crush on Jieun made you want to dig yourself into a hole and never crawl out. 

It’s not like you ever thought you had a chance with Yoongi—but you had just thought maybe something would be different after the hand holding, after his radio interview, after your kiss together. 

But Jieun serves as that nice splash of reality that Yoongi wants someone better than you. Someone more like him—someone passionate about music, who gets along with him better, who can write music with and write music about. 

At this point, it just feels like you’re a weight, dragging Yoongi down in the waves of his past. 

On the other side of the phone, Seokjin sighs. “Damn, that’s always the worst. Those are the ones you suspect the least. Anyways, I’ll let you go. Get some rest. Maybe I’ll let Yoongi know so he can bring some soup.” 

The mention of Yoongi makes you feel like you could actually get food poisoning. “You can let him know, but he’ll probably be too hung up on Jieun to give a shit.” 

Seokjin, of course, knows nothing, so he laughs at what he thinks is your joke. “That’s true. They’re actually at it again today, which is surprising considering Jieun only comes by a few times a week. But no, she was here bright and early and so was Yoongi. Basically, they showed up to the studio at the same time. They called it fate, or some shit like that.” 

“You don’t say,” You return dryly. 

Namjoon’s confirmation that they make a good team, paired with Seokjin’s admittance that Yoongi is hung up on Jieun, puts you in a delicate mood for the rest of the day. You try to watch some TV shows, some movies, play some video games, but you are constantly distracted by thoughts of Yoongi and Jieun. 

You’re all curled up on the couch, about to click into another movie, when there’s a knock on your door. Your heart leaps in your throat as you stand up. You hate the brief flicker of hope in your chest, the curiosity that perhaps Yoongi is the one knocking. 

All those hopes are dashed when you see it is Jungkook on the other side of the door. 

“Oh,” You remark, the smile dropping from your face. “It’s just you.” 

Jungkook looks at you like you pissed in his cereal. “Uh, I don’t see other amazing friends over here bringing you store-bought chicken soup because they heard you got food poisoning last night.” He holds up the bag for extra emphasis. 

You roll your eyes, grabbing the bag from him. “I don’t actually have food poisoning, I just didn’t want to go to work today.” 

Jungkook furrows his eyebrows at your statement. There’s a lot you’ve given him that he can work with, lots of things he can ask about. Maybe ask why you would lie about your food poisoning, maybe ask why you didn’t want to go to work today, maybe ask why you still looked like shit. 

But the first thing he says: “You owe me twenty dollars.” 

You roll your eyes, beckoning him inside with the jerk of your head. “Sure.” 

Jungkook laughs a little. “Wait, okay, I was actually kidding.” But he still steps into your apartment. “I’ll be serious now. Why lie about food poisoning? And since when do you not want to go to work? If anything, you love to go so you can stare at Yoongi’s ass through the recording booth—!” He cuts himself off when you give him a glare of such pure hatred that it actually shocks him. “Wait, are you mad at Yoongi?” 

You tear your gaze away from him, placing the bag of groceries on your countertop. Sorting through what Jungkook has bought serves to be a good distraction. 

Jungkook continues to look at you. He’s quiet, but he always has a lot to say, and since you’ve been his friend for so long that only heightens his need to talk. “I knew it!” He finally says. “I knew you were mad at him. Taehyung and I were placing bets down.” 

You slam the can of chicken soup on the counter. “HEY. What did I say about gossiping?” 

“Not in front of your face?” 

Your hand flinches, as if to stop yourself from grabbing the can and throwing it at his stupid face. Jungkook doesn’t even move in fear, the bastard. “I’m just gonna pretend I don’t know about the bets. You want a can of chicken soup?” 

Jungkook confirmation finds you at the stove, heating up two of the many cans Jungkook had bought for you. Included in his twenty-dollar purchase had been a few containers of tums, and some orange juice. 

Jungkook lingers in the back. “You wanna tell me why you’re mad at Yoongi?” 

You whirl around to face him. “How did you even know I was upset?” 

Jungkook snorts, but quiets down when you glare at him. He coughs. “You’re pretty easy to read, you know. You’ve been acting weird ever since Jieun started coming by the studio.” 

“Weird how?” 

He shrugs. “I don’t know. You’re just a little quieter. And you haven’t been spending as much time in the studio as you used to. That was the biggest giveaway.” 

You’re quiet for a moment. You rub at your cheek. “Does Yoongi know?” 

Jungkook shakes his head. “Doubtful. But I think he knows something is up. I was on the phone with him last night.” 

It’s your turn to snort. “Okay, that’s really fucking funny.” At Jungkook’s raised eyebrow, you explain. “I thought he’d be too busy comparing Jieun to sunlight, or something, to notice me.” 

“Oh, so you’re jealous.” 

You and Jungkook have a staring contest, before you sigh. “I accidentally saw Yoongi’s writing notebook yesterday. It had all these love confessions in it, and I’m pretty sure he was talking about Jieun.” 

Jungkook’s eyes widen. “No way? Are you sure?” 

You cough. “Well, I’m not a hundred percent. But it was all about this forbidden crush he couldn’t act on because of a barrier. Who else could be the barrier? He obviously thinks I’m holding him back from pursuing a relationship with Jieun.” You think about your words for a second, trying to decide if Jungkook is trustworthy enough to disclose this information to. “I think I’m gonna break it off with him. Maybe quit too, while I’m at it.” 

Jungkook’s lips part. “But why?” 

“What else am I supposed to do?” You cry. “I can’t keep up this fake dating with Yoongi anymore, it’s too complicated, and I’m actually in love with him so that opens up this whole other series of complications. And it’s not fair to Yoongi—he shouldn’t have to deal with feelings he obviously doesn’t return. The whole charade thing just isn’t doing me any good. And even if I break off the relationship, I would still have to see him all the time because of the whole manager situation. Quitting just seems like the best option for me.” 

Jungkook is quiet for a second. “How do you even know he wrote that song about Jieun?” He finally asks, speaking carefully. 

You shrug. “I don’t know. I just have this feeling. Who else has he been spending all this time with? Who else could that song possibly be about?” 

Jungkook gives you a long, hard look, like he almost can’t believe your brain can be thinking those thoughts. But he relents. “I think you should talk to Yoongi before quitting. He’s one of your best friends. He deserves to know why, at least.” He looks over your shoulder. “The chicken soup is done.” 

You whirl back around to turn off the stove. But also so Jungkook can’t see the tears glassing over your eyes. 

. 

It turns out, telling Yoongi you want to quit is a much more difficult task than you could have thought. For starters, Seokjin sets the pair of you up on more dates than before. Apparently, there are some rumors going around regarding Jieun’s more and more frequent turn-ups at KSJ Records, and people have started connecting the dots that her appearances are tied to either one of two reasons. Either Yoongi and Jieun are collaborating on music. Or they’re dating. 

The second reason is a lot juicier, much more exciting, so naturally a lot of people have gravitated towards supporting that reason. To try and expel those thoughts, Seokjin sends you out on more dates with Yoongi. It’s all fine, but your thoughts about breaking off this relationship and quitting just makes you more quiet and closed off as you wallow deeper into your thoughts. 

You suddenly don’t know how to contribute to the conversations Yoongi tries to bring up to you. The words seem to fail you every time, and you feel yourself constantly resorting to silence or one-worded answers. And it constantly always feels like Yoongi is standing too close to you. Every step towards you is a step away from him. When he tries to hold your hand on the sixth date in two weeks, you wiggle out of his grasp and pretend that you need to fix your jacket. 

Your own journey to self-destruction means that you are completely oblivious to the hurt in Yoongi’s eyes with every step you take to distance yourself from him. But what could you even say to him?

How could you tell him you want to quit your job in public? That would obviously lead to a fight, and it would reflect badly on Yoongi’s public image. Just because you want to quit doesn’t mean you still care about him, because you do. And you still want him to succeed. With Seokjin’s constant scheduling of dates, it leaves little room for you to share in an actual private discussion. The only off times Yoongi has are the days Jieun comes by the studio, and you try to stay a mile away from that place now. 

But it turns out, you don’t have a choice today, because Seokjin calls you into his office and tells you to drop off the samples of cover art that has just been dropped off at the studio. The cover art is something that Jieun and Yoongi have designed together for the album, to be displayed when the single is released. 

With heavy feet, you make your way through the hallways and towards Yoongi’s studio space. Every fiber in your being hopes that Yoongi and Jieun will be in the recording booth, working on their song (or even better, just not in the studio at all), so that you don’t have to face them enjoying each other’s company right in front of your face. There’s no music coming through the door, so your heart soars that latter prospect. 

As you open the door, however, you realize that there’s no way for you to be so lucky. 

Inside, Yoongi and Jieun are eating lunch, takeout noodles split between the two of them, and they’re in the middle of laughing. The laughter, however, stops when you open the door, effectively interrupting their fucking date. Which is a thought that does nothing to make you feel better. The silence that echoes on only further makes you feel like shit. 

You and Yoongi sharing a room privately nowadays is a rarity, since you’ve been doing a good job at avoiding him at all costs. His unanswered text messages and shortened calls echo through your mind at the sight of him. With the look he’s giving you, you wonder if he’s thinking the same thing. 

Jieun, however, remains completely oblivious to the situation as she gives you her normally bright cheery greeting. You stare at you, momentarily stunned. You would have thought Yoongi shared the troubles of your relationship with her, for some reason. You try to remain nice about it, though, giving Jieun a small smile as you return her greeting. 

“I, uh,” You start, bringing the package up for both of them to see. “Your cover art came in today. Seokjin just asked if I could drop it off here.” 

Jieun brightens at the sight. “Oh my gosh, it came! Do you mind if I…?” She trails off, hands reaching out to take the package from you. You give it to her. “Yoongi, isn’t that so exciting?” 

“Yeah…” Yoongi trails off. A quick glance at him tells you that he’s staring at you. You look away. “Did you see it yet?” He asks you. 

You shrug. “I, uh, haven’t. But, anyways, I have to get going.” 

“Hey,” Jieun calls, freezing you slightly in your path. “Thanks for bringing this over. We really appreciate it.” 

We?

The use of that specific noun, while supposedly harmless in the current context, makes your stomach flare with that white hot curl of jealousy. Your teeth clench, as you swallow down the spiteful words that almost manage to escape into the air around you. You smile, no teeth. “You’re welcome.” That’s the only thing you can manage before you’re turning around to open the door and practically bolt yourself out of the studio. 

You only make it a few feet before the door to the studio opens and you hear footsteps trailing after you. He calls your name, and your heart drops. You are so not ready for any type of one-on-one conversation with Yoongi right now. 

But your entire soul still gravitates toward him, so you stop and turn around to face him. 

Yoongi is by himself this time, and looking like a mixture of confused and defeated as he approaches you. “Listen,” He starts. “I know that we haven’t had a lot of time to really talk…” 

“It’s okay,” You brush off. 

Yoongi says your name again. “You know, you don’t need to lie to me. You’re my best friend—I can tell when you’re hiding something from me.” 

You sigh, shaking your head as every nerve in your body is telling you to walk away. “Yoongi, I’m not sure I can do this right now.” 

“Do what?” He presses. “I know that I’ve been super busy, but if you want to talk you can just let me know. Tell me what’s bothering you, okay? Because I…” He trails off, sighing, and you feel that vague sense of guilt wash over you. “I can tell that you’re avoiding me and it’s really shitty. I can’t even focus that much on my song with Jieun.” 

The mention of Jieun stiffens you up again. “Well, sorry for being an inconvenience,” You spit. “Why don’t you go back to your new fucking girlfriend if you’re gonna bring her up to my face again.” You couldn’t stop yourself this time—the words were too ready at your lips. Your chest is heaving from it too, but it is things that you know that you will regret saying. 

Yoongi’s eyebrows furrow deeper together as your words. 

You stare right back at him, the shadow of a thought passing over you. If you’re going to tell Yoongi your biggest secret, it might as well be right now. You don’t know the next time you will be this brave, this reactive, this bold. 

Both of you open your mouths at the same time. 

“Did you just call Jieun my girlfriend?”

“I’m quitting.” 

You clamp your mouth shut. You hadn’t meant to speak at the same time as him. A small wave of regret passes through you, as you hope that Yoongi wouldn’t have heard your statement over his question. But of course he does. 

Yoongi’s frowns at you. “Did you just say you were quitting?” 

You take a step back, running a hand through your hair as your exhale comes out shaky. More shaky than you intended it to. Oh no. “Yeah,” You manage, already feeling your emotions bottling up. “I was gonna try and talk to Seokjin about quitting before I left.” 

If Yoongi thinks you were joking before, he definitely doesn’t now because he takes a step towards you and catches your wrist before you can go that far. “B-But why?” His eyes have gotten a little wider, and he’s staring at you like his world is being pulled apart. 

You try to tug your wrist away to no avail. Your mind tries to flash through several different excuses, but you realize that you need to tell him the truth. Yoongi deserves that much, at least.

As you try to collect your thoughts, Yoongi starts scrambling. “W-Was it something I did?” He asks quickly. “Because normally you’d always try to call me out and I’d fix myself immediately. A-Are you unhappy with your position? Because I can try to get Seokjin to give you less workload or something. I-I’m really sorry if it was something that I did to hurt you. I-I just really need you here so talk to me… please…” 

You shake your head. “It’s a little more complicated than that,” You whisper. “I know your secret, Yoongi, and that’s why I can’t do this anymore.” 

“W-What secret?” His eyes are still on you. 

You take in another breath. “I went over to your apartment that night,” You start. “And I saw what you were writing in your journal. I know that you’re in love with Jieun, and that you only see me as a barrier to pursuing a relationship with her. And that sucks because normally, I’d encourage you to go after her. But we’re doing this whole dating thing, and I feel like I’m neck-deep because…” Your words come out a little more shaky. “Because I’m in love with you,” You whisper. “I’ve been in love with you for years. B-But I know now that I’ll never measure up to Jieun, or any of the other girls in this industry who deserve you more than I do. I thought that I could keep being professional for you and your career. But it’s too hard for me.” 

“W-Wait,” Yoongi says, tightening his grip on you. “Can you just let me explain, please? It’s not like that, I promise you.” 

You rip your wrist from his hand. “I read it!” You retort loudly. “Who else could be the person you want more than anything, but can’t have because of a physical barrier? When else have you used a real person to inspire your music? It’s too hard for me, Yoongi! I can’t keep doing this!” 

Yoongi seems to be struggling with his next words. “So, what?” Yoongi asks, circling around his next question carefully. “You’re just going to leave? Is this… the end of our friendship?” 

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I don’t know! I haven’t thought this out that far. But I know that we shouldn’t be doing this fake dating charade anymore, because I know there’s no way these past few months have meant the same to you as it did to me. I also know that I can’t really be in the same room with you right now.” 

Yoongi hopelessly gazes over at you, his own chest heaving as he himself struggles with what to say. “Please don’t do this,” He returns softly. 

Your gaze lingers on Yoongi’s for just a while longer, trying to burn the image of him in your mind, before you shake your head. “I’m sorry.” 

. 

As it turns out, Seokjin is out of the office for the rest of the evening. Which is fine, right? Whatever. You can just call him tomorrow morning and schedule a meeting with him, tell him the urgency of it and will definitely be able to muster your strength for another conversation about your secret feelings for Yoongi. 

You return to your apartment and immediately burst into tears as the weight of today’s confrontation sinks its teeth right into your neck. You just shared your feelings with Yoongi, you threatened your employment, and almost cut off your friendship with Yoongi as a result of that. 

Your many years of friendship, of late nights, of laughter together. It seems silly to want to cut off an important friendship just like that—but it just seems unfair of you to carry on with a friendship where you’re always going to crave more. And if Yoongi is smart, he’ll know that as well, and he won’t come back. 

Still, a part of you just hopes a little. Even though, of course, it’s a stupid thing to hope for. Yoongi has already established his taste, and it’s definitely for people leagues above you. The thought only makes you cry a little harder, so much so that you try to drink some water in order to calm down. 

You’re in the beginning stages of patting down your face, of grabbing some spoons to put into the freezer, when there’s a series of frantic knocking at your door. You turn your head towards the source of the noise, trying to figure out who could be visiting at a time like this. It’s been a few hours since your confrontation with Yoongi at the studio, but you assume that he’s probably blowing smoke up Jieun’s ass. There’s no way that it could be him. 

So you open the door, and freeze when you realize that it is Yoongi. 

More than that, it’s Yoongi with his chest heaving. Almost like he has just run around the entire city to reach you. 

The only thing you can manage right now is a wide-eyed stare.

Yoongi stares right back at you. Just a few hours ago, he had looked so helpless and lost for words. A first, actually. But this time, he’s staring at you with so much intensity that you cannot look away. 

Yoongi finally seems to catch his breath. “You’re an idiot,” He states. 

You’re so caught off guard by that statement that you forget you’re supposed to be upset with him. “I’m sorry?” You ask. 

Yoongi huffs, practically barreling past you to step into your house. You try to tell him to stop, but he’s distracted by rummaging through his backpack for something. With a sigh, you decide to close the door. As soon as he’s standing in your kitchen, he finds an old, beaten up notebook that you vaguely remember from his college days. He points at you with his notebook. “You’re an idiot,” He repeats. “If you think that the lyrics on my coffee table are the first time I’ve written lyrics about a specific person.” 

At your shocked expression, he immediately starts flipping through the notebook. You notice that certain pages are marked with sticky tabs. 

Yoongi settles on a page and clears his throat. “Hidden within the walls of our lecture hall, your laughter curls through the cracks like liquid fire. You light up my day amongst borrowed pencils and shared jokes. I knew that you were going to change my life,” he reads. He looks up at you. “The first day I met you, when I asked you to borrow a pencil.” You remember those lyrics. It was from a song he had written called ‘starlight’—the opening song on his first EP. 

He flips through a few more pages. “I never learned about love, but I watch her believe in my dreams, take the same steps to join my team, and I feel like I could figure it out.” He looks at you. “When you agreed to help me with my Youtube channel.”

He continues through his notebooks of lyrics, of stories, of secrets. Every single lyric he reads to you connects back to some memory he holds of the two of you. All the memories together in college: from the panic attack he had in the bathroom of the first party the pair of you attended, to exploring the nearby cities via subway until early mornings, to corner ramen shops. 

Soon enough, he moves on to the lyrics he had written during his first tour. The distance he felt, and how that related to the emotional distance he felt with you—that desire he constantly felt for more, and how the manager and artist relationship the pair of you had couldn’t hold a candle to the friendship you once held. The distance was never a physical challenge, and that was something you could never connect the dots on. 

Every stone of his hidden affection is turned over, every lyric he has marked read over and explained with such a passion. It’s like he has waited years to finally have his turn, to finally speak the way he’s always wanted to—directly, with no tricks of music and whimsical arrangements to make you doubt everything he could say. 

He had written whole songs about the fake dating experience, of how he wasn’t sure he could only pretend to love you when it was the only thing he ever knew how to do. 

Finally, he flips to his most recent song. The very song that you had stumbled upon the other day in his apartment. “I want you more and more with each day, but I know I can’t have you, that I shouldn’t have you,” He reads. He looks up at you. “The barrier was the blanket of our fake relationship. You were never stopping me from doing anything, because you were the only thing I have ever wanted. So…” He gestures to all the notebooks that he has laid out across your kitchen counter. “Do you now see how many song lyrics are actually about you? All about you. Because you’re all I’ve always known.” 

Your gaze carefully studies each notebook, layered over each other, overflowing with dedication and passion. The privacy of someone who has surprisingly spent his entire singing career sharing nothing but his darkest secrets. Your arms are overlapped with each other, tightening against your form. “I-I had no idea.” 

Yoongi shakes his head, but when he looks at you, his eyes are soft. “I figured that.” He’s leaning across the counter to keep his gaze leveled with you, but he pushes himself even closer to tap a finger on the spot between your eyes. “I thought I made it so obvious. You were never listening.” 

“I-I never thought to,” You admit softly. But Yoongi has a point. Ever since he started writing and sharing his original songs, he has done nothing but sing them to you in any and all forms. From the private sessions the pair of you shared in his college apartment, to the performances he would deliver on the street, in the recording booth at all hours of the day, to the tours and the audiences that sing those love declarations right back at you. For years, Yoongi has done nothing but give, and give, and give. And you had no idea. 

Your breath hitches, and Yoongi rounds the counter and gathers your face in his hands. “Shh,” He coos softly. “It’s not your fault.” 

You sniff. “It is my fault! I’m such a stupid bitch. And I treated you and Jieun like shit because I thought you were in love with her. I thought I was holding you back from being able to date who you really wanted to be with.” 

Yoongi shrugs. “I mean, technically, you were.” At your look, he hastily goes to explain himself. “The person I really wanted to date was you. But since we were, uh, fake dating, that prevented me from being able to date you for real…”  

You groan at his teasing grin. “You idiot, that was so bad.” 

“Sorry, sorry.” Yoongi is still grinning though, tracing his thumb over your cheekbone. His eyes follow the movement, mentally outlining you into his mind. “I just wanted to see you smile.” His smile slips a little. “Since you had been ignoring me for so long.” 

You pout. “I told you, I thought you were in love with Jieun. And honestly, that would make a lot of sense… she’s really pretty and talented and you guys could talk about music for hours, especially compared to me—!” 

“Stop,” Yoongi cuts in, closing his eyes briefly. “I’m gonna stop you there before you say something I don’t like.” He angles his head to level his gaze with you. “Jieun is really cool, I’ll probably be the first one to admit that. But she’s not you. Hey, c’mon, look at me.” He forces you to look at him again. “You are also so, so pretty and smart and talented. You may not know a lot about music and songwriting, but you were always the one who pulled all-nighters with me to edit my videos, or learn music with me, or point out if something in my music didn’t sound right. Your passion to help is something I really love about you.” 

You pursue your lips to hide your smile. “Love, huh?” 

Yoongi doesn’t even hesitant. “Well, yeah, because I’m in love with you. I thought that was obvious.” 

You exhale. “Yeah, well, it’s different hearing you say it outloud.” 

Yoongi grins. “Well, hopefully you’ll get used to it. I have many years to make it up to you.” His smile dies down a little. “I’m sorry,” He finally settles with. “I should have been more straightforward and honest with you about my feelings. You must have been suffering for so long, having to keep it all in and everything.” 

You shake your head. “I’m also sorry,” You whisper. “For jumping to conclusions so fast. And also not really listening to your lyrics. That was kind of stupid of me, considering I’m your manager and everything.” 

Yoongi laughs. “It seems like you’re good now, seeing as you’ve just gotten an exclusive behind-the-scenes artist cut and commentary about his songs.” He pauses for a second. “So, I hope this means that you won’t quit being my manager. And that, maybe, we can promote our relationship from fake dates to real ones.” 

You smile. “I’d like that.” 

His smile turns softer. “And I was hoping that maybe I can kiss you again. For real, this time. No cameras, no Seokjin breathing down our necks.” 

You giggle. “Just so you know, if the kiss at your album release party had been a real one and we were actually dating at the time, I probably would have wanted you to fuck me in the bathroom or something.” 

Yoongi groans. “Don’t say that with that cute smile on your face. Makes me want to do things to you.” 

“I don’t see you pulling away though.” 

“Of course not.” Yoongi’s figure loams over you now, his lips brushing against yours. “I have three years to make up to you.” 

With that, he kisses you, silencing whatever next words you were going to say. That is, if you even had any to begin with. Now that he’s kissing you, stealing the breath from your lungs, you’re not even too sure any thoughts have been floating around at all. Unlike the kiss at the album release party, which had been softer and dainty, held back to hide a secret, this kiss is rougher. Yoongi is already moving his lips against yours, already parting his lips to brush his tongue against your lower lips. His hands are already sliding across the counter, trying to cover you more and more. 

His hand slips on the counter though, almost sending his sprawling on top of you. You catch him with your hand on his chest, as the sudden action makes both of you pull away from each other. The sight you both face is very much like the sight from the launch party: flushed cheeks and redden lips, a desire for more flickering behind eyes. 

But this time, there is no expectation to carry on in a party like a long-term couple. That is what allows Yoongi to wrap his arms around you, pulling you to his chest this time. He kisses you again, slower, softer, but you deepen the kiss with the part of your own lips this time. There is an unspoken agreement between the two of you as he lifts you into his arms and blindly navigates through your apartment, into your bedroom, where you both fall atop the mattress. 

“And just for the record,” You whisper, right when Yoongi pulls away to let both of you catch your breath. “I love you too.” You’ve already admitted your feelings earlier in the day, but it’s worth it to see Yoongi deliver that heart pounding gummy smile. 

[misdemeanors-are-stolen]

a recommendation of homestuck fics

long edition

these are fics i treasured enough to come back to over years of browsing homestuck content. fics that take homestuck itself, translate it beautifully into pure text, and make it something new; like a cool caterpillar into an even cooler somehow butterfly

TLDR at the bottom if you just wanna get my summary of a fic’s vibes instead of all the rambling. also, this gets long, so here’s a read more:

Like One Sundered Star by Oriflamme https://archiveofourown.org/works/869819/chapters/1670205 The longest fanfic narrative I’ve ever read, and what’s even more impressive than its 1.7+ million words is the high quality throughout the whole of the tale. I’ve avoided saying ‘fanfic’ singular because it’s actually split into three works, with the second two fics in the series being linked to at the appropriate point in the main fic; don’t go out of order, or you will be massively confused. LOSS is a fanfic of a fanfic, an AU of an AU; it sources from Real Men Wear Tights, a superhero AU centered around John and Karkat, and then adds so much to it (like reincarnation and mafia elements and horrorterror POV) that it ends up outgrowing those roots to become a fully-original fic. It’s got deep depths of characterization and introspection for every main character. The eight human kids, the twelve prominent trolls, the four guardians present, three Exiles for the beta kids’ session, all four of the Midnight crew, plus a handful of extras like the aforementioned horrorterrors - they each get a long POV section to their own. And it’s not overcluttered or crowded - nobody is forgotten in a scene, or squished somewhere awkwardly. The time travel ends up being clear enough to track, although it is very clever the way it wraps everything up, and because there are so many characters, you get to see so many interactions that never ended up happening in canon. Plus the adorable friendship between Dave and the Mayor. It defines and makes use of fraymotifs and game powers in very fitting ways, giving them weird arbitrary conditions and abilities, and clarifies what the Sylph class actually even does! Epic battles - emotional sincerity between parties and partners who really need it - John’s journey of learning to reach out to others and ask for help - the true horrors of Horrorterror possession and what can go wrong when you have such a condition - as well as slice-of-life when you have a bunch of superpowered kids living under one roof. They’re remarkably like regular kids, except traumatized, or Jade. And the side characters, such as Janine and Rose’s fellow magic practitioners, are lovable characters that pop up every so often to remind you that yes, there is a whole planet besides our main characters. I can’t even pick a favorite part, because I keep running through it all and finding things I like just as much as what could have been my favorite. What I will mention is that Dave teaches WV to make horribly inaccurate use of sign language, has a lovely platonic hate/rivalry with Karkat for half the fic, and ends up making an enemy of the Condesce. Over apple juice, that is. It’s a long read, and by the end it’s so full of thick loss and genuine concern over whether anyone’s even going to survive till the end it becomes slow reading where you have to take it all in before the next blow hits you, in the most admirable way a fic can be. I’m not typically emotional when I read, but this one got to me a good few times.

Refuge In Oblivion (series) by Adjourned https://archiveofourown.org/series/1569664 Comprised of two fics of comparable length; You Are a Refugee From an Omnicidal Empire and You Guard the Pyres of a Stillborn Universe, either of which may be read first, as they both provide context for the other.

YGTPOASU is the prequel, centered around the four beta kids. This one features a wonderful dive into sort of the actual process of playing through Sburb’s world quests; the themes, symbols, and metaphors the game uses, and a glimpse at intended boss fights and progression and all. (And quite possibly the saddest scene involving an anvil ever written.) It’s mostly told from Dave’s perspective, but does branch out for the other kids. YAARFAOE happens after YGTPOASU, but can be read first for a unique experience that becomes totally recontextualized after reading YGTPOASU next. It sits firmly on Karkat’s perspective for a while before going back to Dave, and is mostly average college life when the weird kid in shades indoors who won’t talk to anyone suddenly becomes a chatterbox around Karkat. Who he shares Sburbian Mythology 101 with. RIO hasn’t been updated since 2020 and may not be again, but it’s still a read worth your time, especially as it’s the shortest of these three fics at merely ~220,000 words. It really weaves theater magic in front of your eyes, especially in YGTPOASU, I can still feel the magic of those scenes. Hephaestus’s last challenge for his Knight, the ache of realizing what the anvil scene comes out to, the outsider’s view of Jade and Rose that really puts into perspective how terrifyingly powerful these kids are, even if it doesn’t seem so compared to the strength of the opponents they face. And it has, by quite a measure considering Like One Sundered Star is among the fics I’ve read, my favorite interpretation of in-game mechanics of Sburb; fraymotifs, power activation, the truly impressive timeline monologue in the anvil scene, and the alchemization process itself is touched on.

Dayvhe’s Broken Diamonds Club by Unda https://archiveofourown.org/works/16031783/chapters/37419350 (fic is locked to AO3 members only) Another long-haul fic at just over 1.1 million words, this one is a trollstuck, no-sgrub au that does a fantastic job turning what little we see of Alternia in canon into a whole living world, really leaning into the sci-fi alien society of it. And I can’t praise well enough how it manages to stick the trollified beta and alpha kids into Alternia’s current and old history as if they were always meant to be there. The fic centers around Sollux, Karkat, and Dayvhe (trollified Dave, as is obvious) - unlike the other fics, Sollux gets roughly 80% of the POV, with Dayvhe and Karkat sharing the other 20%. Still, the 12 main trolls and trollified human players have a large presence in this fic. The big strengths of this fic are in 1) its development and care for the alien world trolls have; taking care to remember trolls’ nocturnal nature, changing terms and expressions to fit it; plus the definitions in troll quadrants that really illustrate how, when taken seriously, they would work; and bringing in little-mentioned facts of alternia like the existence of zombies, 2) its interpersonal relationships and how these people, so flawed, still choose each other, they don’t flake off at the slightest inconvenience or distaste but continue to work to be better - or sink and fall off by refusing to. The fic’s summary does a great job of describing the start, but know that this fic ends up with full-out war between the Condesce and an Heiress or two, assisted by a famous movie director. !! It does tag a few things readers should know about, but particularly by the end it gets quite heavy, and does feature legitimate mental illness/health issues, plus torture (physical and mental), dissociation/doubting reality, and a couple other things I don’t know what to name as. If you’re unable to deal with anything in this vein, you might not want this fic.

TLDR: Like One Sundered Star starts out superheroes and ends up cycling back around to Sburb the long way around. It can’t be summarized as a humorous or plot-focused fic alone because it balances both simultaneously in a similar vein to Homestuck itself. It has sad chapters, funny chapters, despairing chapters where you can feel just how overwhelmed and outgunned these kids are, but they’re still moving forward.

Refuge In Oblivion is a two-part choose-your-starting-point series where either fic you choose first will provide half the picture, which the second fic completes beautifully; will you choose the college au where Sollux and Karkat get in over their heads with Dave right by their side; or the events leading up to that, the kids sorting through a world intertwined with what Sburb used to be and what’s on the kids’ plates now, before sending off a goodbye to one of the two.

Dayvhe’s Broken Diamonds Club is all about romance. Troll romance. Troll romance and also ludicrous levels of violence - well, not all that ludicrous if you’ve read anything about Alternia. Also turning Alternia into a whole planet, expanding on the many ‘wondrous’ horrors and tortures trolls have at their disposal, and following a rebellion against the Condesce’s rule that ends in a wildly unprecedented way.

that is actually as much as I could attempt to condense these fics to, summary-wise. i’ll have a shorter-fic list out some time whenever, these are just the three cream of the crop fics i’ve seen. genuinely if you’re just looking for good homestuck content, if you like novels and prose more than comics, go read sundered star and/or refuge in oblivion. but if you’re aching for something alternia with trolls and troll culture, dayvhe’s broken diamonds club is for you

[thesunshinebunny]

When the world falls apart, the only thing we can hold onto is ourselves (Part I)

Series Master list

Pairing: Canon Eren Jaeger x reader

Content: Angst, unstable relationship, breakup, smut/nswf+18, major character death, violence, blood (obviously), war (pretty obvious)

Summary: War and hate. It’s what defined the world at this exact moment. You failed your comrades, and by failing them, you failed yourself. Your relationship is hanging by a thread and your enemies will not only be found on the other side of the sea, but also in the mind of the person you love the most. How will you take the reins in the face of so much destruction?

Chapter Summary: After watching their teammates die in battle, reader begins to question their sanity and of their so-called partner.

AN: let me say goodbye to my favorite girl, who got me the best laughs and relieved my anxiety while reading manga chapters. At the same time, let me succumb to the misery and enlarge the wound with an canon Eren. I won’t be against following this fic if I see that a lot of people like it, but my list of fandoms isn’t going to change, this will be a unique exception.

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The chill in the air from the airship rushed through my veins. Less than two hours ago, I had seen countless comrades die, each one of them struck by bullets in different parts of their bodys or eaten by a Titan. I had seen countless lives fall and had been unable to save any. I knew we were going on a suicide mission, but deep down inside of me, I hoped we would all come home alive.

I was very naïve to think of a happy ending in this rotten and violent world.

Inside the room I was in, my mind wandered looking through one of the few windows this war machine gave us. I wasn't paying attention to what Levi or Eren were saying, I didn't even have the slightest intention of asking why Zeke was with us. Although being a member of the Survey Corps and a direct and in training medic, I was not fully informed of the missions. Eren’s courtesy.

Bored and mentally tired, I left the room where my leaders were having a heated discussion with "humanity's last hope." I didn't have the strength to add more charcoal to the fire, but trust me when I tell you I wasn’t at all happy with Eren's plan, simply and exclusively because I was completely unaware.

I walked down the hall making a mental note to kick the brunette in the face like Levi did when we got back. If my so-called partner, who had the decency to slowly push me away over the last year without explanation, wasn’t confident enough to tell me whatever was going on in his mind, then we would be in front of the doors of a serious conversation back home.

I opened the door where the scouts were when I heard a rifle go off. My eyes went wide and fear washed over me. I instantly scanned my body for wounds, completely ignoring the situation happening in front of me. Finding no sign of impact, I looked up only to find Sasha falling on her back, with a bullet impact on her chest.

The world seemed to have frozen as did my body. No one was able to move. Blood was spreading around Sasha's body, staining the floor, and that's when I reacted. My body moved on its own, pulling the cloak off my shoulders and folding it to make a small pillow. My ears didn’t catch any screams or cries from my teammates, as if I was underwater and the only thing I could hear was my heartbeat accelerating, threatening to come out of my ears.

"I need a syringe with anesthesia, a pair of tweezers, a needle, a lighter, bandages and hot water, NOW !!"

No one was moving, everyone was in shock, including me, but I was layered enough to know that if we didn't do something, Sasha wasn't going to survive.

"Jean, Connie, I need surgical elementes! NOW!!"

The two boys came out of it, running around the room, even going to the continuous, looking for something that might serve, while I tore Sasha's shirt and took her equipment. Mikasa was next to me grabbing the pieces that were in the way.

"Mikasa, I need you to put pressure on the wound and don’t move your hands"

Connie came running back with the anesthesia in hand, trying to give it to me, but me failing. The syringe fell to the floor, but thanks to whatever deity was watching us it didn't break. My hands were shaking with adrenaline, making it impossible for me to inject the needle into the glass vial.

“Sasha… I need you to stay awake, ok? I need you to keep your eyes open at all time"

The dying girl in front of me didn't give me an answer, but I knew she heard me. In the background, I could hear the desperate cries of the others, apart from the fact that someone had hit the culprit in the face. I injected the anesthesia and proceeded to remove the bullet from the lung. Mikasa reapplied pressure with wet cloths.

"Sasha everything will be fine, I assure you, everything will be fine, so don't you dare die on me, okay?"

I couldn't tell who I was addressing those words to, the girl who gave us the best laughs in our training days, or me.

Lighter in hand I proceeded to cauterize the wound, but my eyes fell on Sasha's, noticing how the life had left her eyes. The light that was so bright in her pupils had faded, leaving nothing more than an empty countenance.

"Sasha?...Sasha? hey, this isn’t funny, Sasha wake up…Sasha?? SASHA?!!?!" ...

"SASHA!!!"

Again.

Again I’d been unable to do anything.

Again I’d to see how I was unable to save someone.

Again.

I had seen a mate die. Again.

My chest contracted, the air was impossible to get in or out and my lungs cried out to explode. My stomach wanted to regurgitate, but there was nothing in it, causing me to spasm. My vocal cords were damaged from screaming and my head was about to collapse.

My whole body was about to collapse.

"How dare you!? You son of a bitch, how dare you to shoot the person who forgave your life?"

My anger was now directed at the child they had wanted to bring with us. It was impossible for me to look at her without having the desire to break her face, to make her suffer ... to kill her. To take revenge for Sasha.

“SHE FORGAVE YOUR LIFE BY NOT GIVING YOU A SHOT IN THE HEAD AND IS THAT HOW YOU PAY HER? YOU HATE US SO MUCH? HOW MANY MORE LIVES DO YOU WANT TO TAKE FOR US TO BE SATISFIED?"

My legs got up, leading me towards the girl, but arms held me from behind, preventing me from continue walking, preventing me from taking revenge.

"HOW DARE YOU? HOW DARE YOU? YOU ARE THE REAL DEVILS"

In the end, my body collapsed, completely loosening and causing me to almost slide down Connie's arms. I fell to my knees when he released me, snuggling up and hiding my head in my arms. Tears flowed like waterfalls with no intention of stopping and my screams reverberated across the metal in the room.

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Connie opened the door where our commanders were still arguing. Both with tears in our eyes gave the worst news of the night.

"Sasha died"

Jean and Hange's faces were disfigured and Levi hid his grim outline from us. The room was silent, but all that could be heard were my sobs, spasm after spasm.

"She had a ... a bullet impact ... in ... in the chest ..."

It was difficult, almost impossible, for me to relate the precarious medical report of our friend's death, trying to help me with the movement of my hands ... but even so the spasms won me over. I fell back to the floor, tears invaded my face once more and my ability to articulate words was gone down the drain.

Hange approached with a slow step and placed their hands on my shoulders, giving me the help I needed to give the report. I took several minutes of deep breaths and when my lungs returned to normal, I spoke again.

"Sasha had a bullet impact on the chest, on the left lung ... There was no exit, so the bullet was stuck in there...it pierced two ribs, tearing the skin of the lung and causing internal bleeding... I managd to remove the bullet, but I didn't have time to cauterize and sew the wound ... she bled to death"

Every pause I took to breathe made it so much worse for me to speak back. If it weren't for the fact I was undoubtedly taking deep breaths, I would have passed out from distress and hyperventilation.

"I could have saved her ... I know I could have saved her"

Silence reigned over the room, sobs from Hange and Connie could be heard if we were paying close attention. Jean and Levi glared at Eren, who had not deigned to lift his head at any time.

I got up as best I could, running Hange's hands gently, and left the room once again. I needed to be alone for a while, I needed to let go of these horrible feelings, I needed some air, otherwise I doubted I’d do anything rational in the state I was in.

My legs led me to a room away from all the common ones. It was empty, but it had a couple of windows that chilled the already cold metal walls. Some windows were at my height, allowing me to appreciate the view from the air, but let's face it, it was impossible to appreciate the landscape when your mind and heart were breaking to pieces. The only thing that kept my mind intact from any collapse was the path of smoke and fire that could be seen in the distance... signs that Marley was still on fire.

"Are you ok?"

That familiar voice, all too familiar, echoed in my ears pulling me out of my entrance. Eren had entered the room quietly with the aim of… what? See if it was okay? Because I really wasn't, it showed on my face and that's what made me even more angry than I was.

"Oh, I don't know? Am I ok? Do I FUCKING LOOK OK TO YOU?"

I turned from the window too quickly causing me to stagger and fall to the floor. My head was spinning and starting to ache as was every muscle in my body. I put my hands to my head, hoping the pain would dissipate a bit, but the only thing I managed was to sink further into misery.

"I could have saved her ... if I’d been faster ... I know I could have saved her"

He hadn't moved from where he was, he just stayed there, looking at me. My blood-soaked eyes looked him up and down searching for something, whatever, to speak of, but all I found were non-glare eyes and a neutral gaze, as if he hadn't cared how many lives this mission had claimed.

"Do you want to know how I feel? Fine, I’ll tell you"

I stood up heavily, my muscles begging for a break. I turned my head to see the black smoke rising on the horizon, still clearly noticing an orange and red flare.

“I am tired…I am full of rage and hate. I saw our comrades die and I couldn't do anything, I was unable to save them ... to save Sasha...and all because of not having been informed like everyone else"

My eyes hadn't left the window because I knew, if I looked into those dull turquoise eyes, those same eyes that once shone with all the innocence and life that a young man could have, I would end up punching him.

"Are you happy? Did you accomplished your mission now that you have the power of the warhammer titan? What will be the next step? Go back to Marley in a few months, finish what you started and devour the jaw titan and Reiner? Assassinate the cart titan?”

Again, I got no response. My patience had already reached it’s limit and I looked back at the man who was now standing in the middle of the room.

"You're not going to tell me, are you? No, you never say anything to me, it's like I'm a burden to you" I shuffled on the metal, standing right in front of him "I'm with so much anger in my veins that I want to kill a child, a child Eren! ... A child who had her head washed all her life, a child who doesn’t know the whole truth and who only knows that by killing she can be free"

Unconsciously, my body moved everywhere, as if it wanted to release all the pressure by tiring the muscles. I stood back in front of the window and with all the accumulated anger I gave it a strong blow, slightly scratching the glass and probably breaking some knuckles.

"Sasha died because of my incompetence and the violence of this world...I want to save lives Eren, that's why I'm practicing medicine...I want to dedicate myself to saving souls, not killing them...and we have the culprit stuck in one of our rooms...why?" ...

“WHY DO WE HAVE TWO CHILDS ON OUR AIRPLANE? WHY IS YOUR BROTHER WITH US? WHY DON'T YOU LET ME KNOW WHAT IS GOING THROUGH YOUR HEAD?"

I was sure that my screams could be heard by our entire war machine. I was impatient for answers, but knew I wasn't going to get any, at least not now. My hands didn’t remain calm, they moved everywhere, a sign of my anxiety and my eyes turned around the entire room, looking at each screw, each metal beam... everything except the eyes of my supposed lover.

I was giving up, now I just wanted to rest and have a trip home in peace, even knowing that home was not going to sound the same or feel the same.

"If you have nothing to say Eren, you better leave"

I turned my back on him but didn't proceed to walk away from him. I needed to find an anchor point so as not to give up and throw myself into the arms that one day gave me warmth, the arms that wrapped me in the dark, the arms that reflected their love and affection ... into the arms that now wouldn't hold me from the waist or draw me to his chest. I wasn't going to throw me into some arms that weren't going to contain me.

I heard him take a few small steps towards me and his hand rested lightly on my shoulder. I put it aside abruptly and I distanced myself towards the remote window, seeing how little by little the smoke was getting smaller and I could no longer see the orange flame clearly; now I could only see a thin yellow line fading.

"Leave Eren"

His footsteps rumbled on the metal floor, leaving me alone once and for all.

The trip back was going to be a long one and, to be honest, I wasn't sure if there was anything for me in our home. Nothing was going to be the same anymore. Without Sasha, without Eren and with a war on our feet I doubted to even call “home” a piece of wet land in the middle of an ocean which is still the target of a world full of hate.

[twiceasfrustrating]

Absolutely Nothing

I said I wouldn't post my new fic until after SWBQ is done, but I want to begin posting it before S4 drops. It won't update consistently atm, but it's there... I will only be posting the first two chapters to Tumblr. Everything else is going on AO3 because Tumblr is not longfic friendly.

Rating: Teen and Up

Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Category: Gen

Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!

Characters: Main Character, Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor, Diavolo, Barbatos, Simeon, Luke, Solomon, Michael, Raphael, Uriel, Original Angel Character(s)

Additional Tags: Other Additional Tags to Be Added, War, Trauma, Abuse, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Canon is like a vampire, it can't enter this house unless I let it, Emotional Baggage, Lies, Manipulation, Ships not intended but I'm not stopping you

Summary: War is not unknown to the three realms, but that does not make them any less a tragedy of strategy. Though relations between the three have never been favorable, they have never truly gone to battle with each other. At least, not until now. The heavens have been planning for a long time and have finally decided to execute their machinations. Now it is time to see how every piece will play out this bloody battle.

A/N: These tags are for the overarching fic, not the first two chapters. Only Lucifer, Simeon, Micheal, and Gabriel show up in the first two chapters.

Chapter 1: I Will Not Go With You

“We’re heading for a war,” Lucifer warned, “and I want you to come with me.”

Simeon solemnly blinked a few times before closing his eyes. The weight of the choices laid before him pricked at the edges of his mind. He’d known this was coming. He’d known for a long time that this question would eventually be asked of him and for just as long he’d known what his answer would be, “I must decline.”

“Why?” Lucifer spat out, “Simeon, you have to know what’s about to happen. If we don’t fight then Lilith-”

“I am not stopping you from this rebellion.” He opened his eyes and looked to the pages stacked neatly in the corner of his desk, carefully flipping through the avalanche of writings he’d collected over the years. Somewhere, buried deep in the pile, he vaguely recalled his moment; where his brother would ask him to do the impossible. He’d hidden it away from prying eyes, afraid that others would find it and interpret it as he had. Though, even if they had read it and understood what the contents were, it was nigh impossible to change the events that were foretold.

He pulled the page from the pile, taking care so the others above it would not collapse onto the delicately inlaid wood of his desk, and perused the contents held within. The paper was so old that it had begun to grow fragile to the touch and discolor at the edges. Simeon desperately wished that time had chosen not to show its touch on this particular relic he would rather have forgotten about. It was frightening how long he’d known about this day and he would rather pretend he was shocked when Lucifer had come to him. Sometimes, having a glimpse into what would eventually be was a cruel reality.

That brother, who would come in need of his fellow, will find no quarter. So shall he return with hands left empty, but convictions emboldened by the forge of his stature. He shall take with him those who share his resolve and lead them to where metal sings and cries. Blood shall be shed but on one side, though the cost of the blood spilled shall

It was an old, short paragraph he wished he could forget. Though he could never truly put it out of his mind, because he knew it was left unfinished and his mind and pen longed to see the end of the story. However, his heart and will would prefer not to know every detail of this particular future. For so long, he’d clung to that final shall and hoped that not knowing the entirety of the story would somehow keep it from unfolding. However, his pen only put the stories to page. He was not responsible for the events that inspired him to write.

“You will have to make do with those who are already on your side. No one else will turn their back on Father for your cause.” It was the only warning he could give. In those words he hid the message that Lucifer should tell no one else. If war was approaching, then it was better he have the element of surprise.

Lucifer could only stare at him in disbelief, “Is that your answer?”

“It always was.” He placed the paper face down atop the pile, “I cannot aid you in this, Lucifer.”

“Then you would fight against me? You would condemn Lilith in the same way as our Father?” His voice shook, the rage building inside of him clearly beginning to boil over even as he tried to contain it.

“I will not betray my family.” Simeon’s face remained unchanged as he pushed his chair away from the desk and rose to his feet. Despite the malicious aura that began to circle around his fellow Seraphim, he approached with an unguarded stance until they were only an arm’s reach away from one another. No matter how upset Lucifer may become, Simeon would not fear him. Though, he did fear *for* him, “You and she are still of my kind and that means I will not meet you on the battlefield.”

Lucifer’s eyes widened at the declaration. This time, it was his turn to fear for the other, “You can’t stay out of this. You know they won’t allow you.” If he did try to remain on the sidelines, Simeon would still be seen as a traitor. Not in the same vein as him and his siblings, but a traitor nonetheless, “I won’t ask you to fight if you really refuse to lift your blade, but you can’t stay here.”

“As much as you and Lilith are my family, so are Micheal, Raphael, Uriel, and Gabriel. I cannot leave them.”

“Simeon…”

Simeon’s lips pulled back into a smile and he let out the shortest of laughs, “You worry far too much, Lucy. You are aware that I am still a Seraphim, are you not? Even if I do not step onto the battlefield, I do not believe I am in nearly as much danger as you are putting yourself in.” He wanted to reach out and touch his brother one last time as the fear of the unknown overtook him, but he kept his hand within his own space. He did not know what would happen at the end of all of this, but he knew it would not be the same and reaching out to hold onto what they had would only pain them both.

Lucifer looked over the other angel’s shoulder, toward the pile of papers where Simeon had placed one face down. Countless writings that revealed the future to their author and Lucifer did not envy that gift. Others often wished to know what would be, but he had seen far too many times the burden placed on Simeon for having such a skill; the amount of times he had been made to see both grace and tragedy was carved on his face, just behind that smile. That is why, despite knowing that whatever was on that page was related to this very discussion and his ultimate goal, he would not pry. It was not as if knowing the future allowed it to be changed anyway.

“We’ll still be on opposing sides, you know?” No matter how much Simeon proclaimed not to betray his family, that was an unavoidable truth.

He nodded, “I am aware.”

“And you refuse to go against your family?”

This time his confirmation was wordless.

Lucifer took in a deep breath, “Then once the battle begins, I believe we can hardly be considered family anymore.”

Large blue eyes shot up to look at his pale face. It seemed that Lucifer had said something Simeon hadn’t expected, “What?”

“You will not betray your family, but you know they will not allow you to remain neutral in this. As soon as the drums of war beat, it is fine to stop thinking of me as your brother.”

There was a long moment of silence before Simeon could reply, “You cannot ask me that.”

“I am not asking. I am stating a truth,” one that would hopefully allow Simeon a way to follow his morals and gain some leniency if he continued to insist on this path, “I refuse to be your brother from that moment on.”

“Please... you cannot ask that of me.”

“I am not asking anything of you. I am simply stating where we will stand.” And now he needed to leave before the hurt welling in Simeon’s eyes tugged at his heart anymore and shattered his resolve.

He dipped his head in a polite bow, “Thank you for your time, Simeon. I do hope we may speak like this again.” He turned on his heels, refusing to truly look at the other angel again. His only goal was the door, where he opened it wide and stepped through the threshold.

“Lucifer! Wait!”

It took far more will than Lucifer would ever care to admit as he shut the door behind him without saying another word, and even more to walk away.

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Chapter 2: Traitor

“How long have you known?” Micheal nearly growled as he stared down Simeon where he kneeled. His pale blue eyes ran wild with rage and it was clear he was just barely holding himself together. That was to be expected after everything he had just been through. Lucifer was unapologetically his favorite brother so it was unimaginable the distress he was in right now as he came to terms with having lost a member of his family. They had been like two halves of a whole, and now they were fractured.

“How long have I known what?” Simeon asked, feigning ignorance.

“That Lucifer would lead a rebellion against Father!” Micheal’s voice raised so loud that the room literally shook around him.

“Calm yourself, Micheal,” a melodious voice shushed him and lithe hands rested on his shoulders to hold him steady, “We’ve lost enough of our siblings today. There is no reason to lose yourself and risk losing another.”

“You would call him our brother after that disgraceful scene, Gabriel?” The disgust in his voice was clear and overwhelming, “He knew this would happen and refused to warn us or lift a finger. Everything we lost today is because of him.” Simeon had to know about today. He was blessed with the gift of prophecy and spent his time writing what was to come. If he had simply shared whatever he knew about today, Micheal knows they could have prevented the rebellion. He knows that he could have convinced Lucifer to stay somehow. Instead, he was left to face his own brother on the battlefield. He could still recall the cold eyes Lucifer had looked at him with as if they barely knew one another. That sight would never leave the darkest parts of his mind.

“You are blinded by your pain, Micheal.” She removed her hand from his shoulders and moved to stand over Simeon, “He is clearly as much our brother as ever. If he were against us he would have joined Lucifer, but Father has deemed that he is still worthy of his halo. Is that not enough for you?”

Micheal chuckled darkly before answering, “Uriel nearly lost an arm and he’s one of the lucky ones.” Even with so few numbers on their side, the rebellion had a gifted Dominion that made the most of their small force.

“And everyone harmed will heal, but we gain nothing in dividing ourselves further, and our brother has already been punished for his transgressions.” She took a knee before Simeon, reaching out her hand and running her fingers through his silken hair, “Will you not put our brother’s worries at ease, Simeon?”

Simeon knew the threat in those words. As kind as Gabriel pretended to be, she was someone he feared far more than Micheal. Not because she was stronger, but because she knew exactly how to most hurt those who upset her. As such, he had no interest in declining her wish, even if what she was asking for was for him to show his shame.

He took a deep breath before unfurling his wings behind him. They shimmered golden in the neverending light of the Celestial Realm, a blessing bestowed upon him by their Father that reflected his very essence. Every angel had such a blessing; different colors, shapes, a range of sizes, and lays of their feathers all differed from angel to angel all dependent on their Father’s grace. That included how high in their Father’s favor they were, and it was obvious at a glance just how out of favor Simeon had fallen. His six beautiful wings, the blessing afforded to all Seraphim, had been reduced to a simple two.

Gabriel’s eyes filled with pity for him but Micheal’s face twisted in glee and disdain, “Is that all? You betray us and all Father does is reduce your rank.” The laugh that left his throat was so dry that it sounded like it hurt, “You must really be beloved to get off with such a light sentence.” If it was up to Micheal himself, Simeon would face the same punishment as Lilith.

“Still your anger, Micheal. As you can see, Father has spoken.” She raised to her feet once more, her nails pulling painfully at Simeon’s hair as she stepped away from him, “Simeon is still of our kind and as one of our subordinates it is our duty to shepherd him.”

A wicked smile crossed Micheal’s face as he continued to look down on Simeon and his now unsightly form that marked his betrayal, “You may be correct, Gabriel. It is only right that we guide lost sheep, especially those of our own flock.”

[washymylifeaway]

hi! do you have any favourite fantasy/mythology esque sakuatsu fics?

Haikyuu SakuAtsu fanfic recs: Fantasy Edition!!!!

To the anon who requested this, you are an ABSOLUTE GOD. I don’t know if you know, but fantasy AND mythology are some of my FAVORITE genres of ALL TIME. STILL, I saw the esque and I ran with it (cause there isn’t a lot of like pure fantasy or mythological journey fics ie. my poor excuse OOPS LOL and I wasn’t too sure what would be okay on this list AHAHA), so if it’s not the right kind of fics you were looking for, I’M SO SORRY :((((((( May this rec list be up to your expectations!!!!!! (And if it isn’t, feel free to re-request :’))))),,,, ALSO, ignore me switching between Sakusa and Omi LOL.)

As per usual, pls check WARNINGS, TAGS, and SUMMARIES for each fic before reading and make sure you’re taking care of yourselves (since mental health is key!) Stay healthy loves <3

if you make me feel in love / if you make me open up by volchitsae (E) 6.4k // this is a reincarnation AU, and it has a major folklore/japanese-ish mythology (gods) element to it. This honestly MIGHT be my favorite from this list cause it’s just done SO well and I LOVE the reunion after the TRAGEDY :’)))) I’m trying to be vague cause I REALLY don’t want to spoil this fic at ALL, so PLEASE read it heh.

my love, take your time by bastigod (T) 9k // this is another reincarnation AU, but this time it’s with greek-ish mythology :’D However, the fantasy part of it is kinda on the back burner (ahaha oops LOL). It becomes more apparent near the end of the fic, but the build up to it is worth reading, which is why it’s here LOL. I love how they added Sakusa’s own memories concerning certain things, and how he collected pieces of them in the museum! The writing is so good, but also, I’m a sucker for Omi making lists relating to Atsumu hehe.

your flame will not survive in this cold tundra by awkwardedgeworth (T) 26.5k // this is an AtLA AU, but even if you don’t know the show, you’ll still enjoy it! I absolutely love this fic and the plot is really AMAZING and asihfkjahsdkfjak their DEVELOPMENT. Especially with the separation of POV’s in both chapters (and what we get to see which we didn’t previously) UGH,,,, it was so GOOD. (Their other AtLA AU fics are really good too, so don’t be shy, go read them as well LOL.)

one life, one encounter by bastigod (G) 5.7k // this is a japanese-ish mythology AU, with our first appearance of foxsumu. We do stan Kita-san and Sakusa being friends with one another in this house :D This fic was really cute and Sakusa is so baby in this (but in a GOOD WAY), and when he talks to Atsumu at first,,, HE SOUNDED SO LONELY LIKE I’LL BE YOUR FRIEND :((((((

give me a moment so devoted by volchitsae (T) 4.5k // immortals! YES! I really really like this one and I think that their relationship in it was SO cute. I am really into the idea of Atsumu being insufferable throughout Omi’s lifetime and them having INSIDE JOKES AHHHHH. It’s really light and fluffy so if you just want some love in your life, this is the read :)

show you my best disguise by volchitsae (T) 5.1k // this one has NICE Sakusa in it (which I think should be more common fight me) and their relationship with one another is actually good from the beginning :D I love how naturally it progressed and how we get to see the habits slowly build as they spend time with one another. Very good fic, but not lots of magic until the end LOL. (There’s also a lot of poetry LOL.)

both our hands speak for us and complicate it by volchitsae (M) 8.6k // MAGIC/superpowers :D FIRST, the puns are such a nice touch to this fic and SECOND we do love the yachi/yama agenda being pushed here. I really like the conditions Sakusa’s powers have, and how that added to the plot (and the ending for that matter, may there be a universe where they can touch LOL). Honestly, the magic is also kinda back burner for this one and it focuses more on relationship dev. but it’s still a fun read so I added it LOL.

Rain and Its Incendiary Properties by firtree (M) 24.5k // so we get some Sakusa turning into vampire backstory in this one, and the revelation of more mythical beings LOL. Bless Komori and tbh Suna for being some MVP’s in this fic, we do love the familial bonds :)))) But also, the knowledge at the end does give some second hand embarrassment so brace yourself LOL.

two slow dancers by orphan_account (T) 1.2k // AHHHHHH BLOND SAKUSA! Also, yes another vampire fic. What? Sue me. This is just a load of fluff and sap from Atsumu, and warning: there ARE twilight references in this one ahahahaha. (If you thought that with this many vampire fics on the list, you would be safe from twilight, you obviously thought wrong.)

crimson colored lotus by sieges (M) 16.5k // this was a demon slayer AU LOL. TBH I haven’t watched DS, but you honestly don’t really need to in order to read this LOL. It’s explained really well and the writing is AMAZING! It’s not a linear fic, but you can read it in order if you so choose. I know it’s a stretch for this list, but it’s just that good, okay? LOL.

how can I not be moved (by you) by Ann1215 (T) 26.4k // this has warlock Atsumu (with an actual REASON for his blond-ness that isn’t Osamu) and halfling Sakusa, who is eventually a sap LOL. I really love fics with familiars and animals so this fic was one that I really liked hehe. The ending? Embarrassing but we do love the love LOL. Also the second part with Atsumu’s POV, FLUFF like, yes please give me all the love :DDDDD

enchanted to meet ya by zantetsvkens (T) 4.8k // FAST BURN but it makes sense. I agree with the a/n at the end for the confession, so there’s that LOL. I liked this one because the tactful provoking was SO good and funny for that matter HAH. But Sakusa WOULD be more concerned with the window costs than Atsumu’s wellbeing (it had to have been said).

when morning comes we'll be safe by bestcarrot (T) 2.7k // another demon slayer AU even though I’ve never read or watched ds? Yes. Again, sue me. I know it’s teeeeeeechnically a stretch BUT fox demon Atsumu...... (Also it’s written so well I felt like I needed to add it okay? :’)))))) AND yes, I WAS holding onto the no character death (YOU SHOULD TOO), the close ending was scary.

a boy is a thing with fangs by unthank (T) 3.5k // foxsumu! ngl I’ll just be straight up honest with you all, I added this for the response Sakusa has to Atsumu when they’re watching SunaOsa play shogi in the next fic LOL. I thought it was so funny and perfect for that moment please. Just,,,, forgive me once AHAHAH.

Falling For You (Literally) by Anubis_2701 (T) 6.5k // clumsy Atsumu makes me feel some type of way LOL. This is another NICE, soft Sakusa fic (like i said we need more: me pretending like I don’t see the tag for it LOL) and it’s just really cute. There’s some medical tings that occur (cause Omi is literally a magical medic LOL), but it’s just very FLUFF hehe.

The curse of a blessing by basinnit (E) 7.8k // CHECKING WARNINGS AND TAGS!!!!!!! I felt like I knew what was going to happen, but DENIAL IS NICE OKAY. Honestly, it seems short with it’s 7.8k word count, but with the number of mental breaks you’re gonna need,,,, it’ll seem long. Also, yes Atsumu punching people (one person in particular) because I would’ve too and I love that person >:((((( It looks scary and confusing with the tags, but I’d read it anyway LOL. (If you’re wondering, the magic is that Suna and Sakusa are warlocks LOL.)

The Fox Prince by cinnamonlove (T) 13.1k // okay there are some INSULTS thrown (and lots of cursing LOL) and so TW: LOTTA CURSE WORDS. Aside from that, we see once again MVP Komori making an appearance, but also vulnerable SakuAtsu near the end :0 It’s definitely an interesting fic, so that’s why it’s here LOL. (Also it’s like fake foxsumu but not really,,,, you’ll understand.)

the echoing halls by ohwickedsoul (T) 11.7k // GAH THIS ONE WAS SO GOOD. To read it though, some background knowledge (or google LOL) is needed cause the mythology references are very strong in this one. But I love when Sakusa was so desperate (honor’d light AUAHFKJDHFKJS) and Atsumu was aboutta (basically) punch him LOL. V GOOD V CUTE IN LOVE? I AM.

Did I just take this ask as an excuse to read a crap ton of fantasy/mythology AUs instead of doing any of my other work? Yes, yes I did. Also, I know it’s kinda short (LOL NOT ME SAYING THIS but I did NOT (surprising IK) put some of the fics I liked D:), but I tried to REALLY narrow it down a bit hehe. I hope I didn’t miss too many good ones, and I’m sorry for not really staying on ‘topic’ LOL. I realized while re-reading these that a lot of them are just Atsumu like meeting Sakusa by chance and being like dang, he’s hot. Gotta bother him forever ig? Thank you for the ask, it was really fun and I hope you liked the fics hehe :)

[lollybliz]

bout to make a Monster of a fic rec post here we go

heyo @jinx108! We’ll start with the complete ones because sometimes you’re just not in the mood to wait for the last chapter, you know? I don't remember details of all of these so i’m just going to copy the author’s summary rather than write my own. I am literally just going through my bookmarks, I got 400 of these to sort through. if ive talked to or am familiar with the author im gonna mention them, but if I mention you and you don't want me to have Please tell me and i’ll remove it.

If you’re not into spoilers Please Tread Carefully, I don't watch out for that stuff so I wont know to label it

1>Crushing Truth by Bunzuku: Tododeku. “Romance is hard enough for a teenager to understand when they have a good relationship role model. For Shoto, it takes two excited meddlers for him to even realize what his feelings really are.“

2>Disowned by b00mgh: tododeku + others. Unrated, some traumatic elements. “Shouto freaks out under a bridge and I use the word "grass" a lot more than I really should. Izuku does his stupid martyr thing and everyone makes continuous references to his propensity to break his bones. Aizawa goes "oh FUCK my kids are dying again" and his students use him as emotional (and physical) support. A friend requests angst, I say what kind, she say idk make someone get disowned and i say oh this I can absolutely provide my good buddy.”

3>cotton candy hands by @chonideno: Kiribaku. I will take Any excuse to rec this fic, its the most fluffy pile of feels Good Lord. also the first fic I ever bound into a physical book. “Studying to become a hero requires knowing how to take care of yourself. Sometimes you might need help on the way so if your crush offers to do your hair for you or to give you a well-deserved back rub, it'd be stupid to say no. A series of soft vignettes in which a love-struck Kirishima and a touch-starved Bakugou care for each other and it's definitely not making their hearts jump through hoops, they’re never this close to kissing, no, they're totally best friends bro“

4>Catching Sight of the Storm by neo7v: Kiribaku, tododeku. A considerable amount of Whump and related angst, and kinda sad tbh. “Blind. Quirkless. Useless.The first two things were stated clearly by the doctor that sat about five feet in front of Izuku. The third was a word that Kacchan called him everytime he failed to make the jump on whatever forest excursion they were on or when he ran into a tree because he hadn’t seen it. “I’m so, so sorry, Izuku.” Was his mom giving up on him already? But he could still be a hero if he tried hard enough, right? Quirkless or not. Blind or not. Just because Izuku was useless now didn’t mean he would stay that way forever, right? *** A Blind!Izuku AU”

5>Yell Heah by fakecharliebrown: Chatfic. M a n y pairings. technically complete, but part of an ongoing series. “Iida creates a group-chat for Class 1-A. It doesn't go as planned.“

6>Sunshine by Rosey_Note: BIG SAD. tw- failed suicide attempt. KiriKamiBaku. “They didn't deserve to put up with his crappy mood. Because Denki Kaminari did not feel like Sunshine right now. And they deserved sunshine. In fact, Denki didn't feel much of anything right now.“

7>Electric Connection by  Onlymostydead: ShinKami. “Kaminari's quirk has always had... Weird side affects. Like his ADHD. And his constant energy. And his insomnia, which wouldn't leave him be right now, when he really needed to just get some sleep. But, thankfully, he has good friends.“

8>The Best (The Worst) by Onlymostydead: no romantic pairing. tw- rampant transphobia, both outside and internalized. “Bakugou Katsuki has known who he was since he was four years old. He was a boy, it was as simple as that. Around his friends, at school... But things couldn't just be that simple, could they?“

9>Lichtenberg Figures by Q_loves_you: no definite romantic pairing. “Kaminari Denki has a very powerful force of nature running through his body. Kaminari Denki doesn't want to hurt anybody. He doesn't always get what he wants, and "anybody" does generally include himself.“

10>Eventuality by KikaTouka: ill be honest I don't remember this one at all, I maaaay not have read it yet :/. anyway. ShinKami. “Shinsou learns more than just hero lessons after being transferred to 1-A.“

11>Pickup Lines for the Soul by MustardSoup: ShinKami. “Denki is twelve when he is flicking through the TV channels and lands on an old RomCom movie about soulmate marks – specifically the same type that he has. “I can’t believe I’ve had to walk around with a cheap pickup line written on my ankle my entire life because of you!” The leading lady yells at the leading man as he stares at her in awe. Denki laughs. “Oh no.” His mother says, watching him. “Oh no, indeed.” His sister repeats quietly.“

12>caught in my own web by @anxioussailorsoldier: ShinKami. “Shinsou needs some help after getting caught up in his capture weapon. Kaminari enters from stage left.“

13>not so summer love by nataliya: ShinKami. “Class 2-B’s common room, although typically quiet, was currently filled with five students—three slowly giving up on homework, one bitching about noise and another that rushes through the front door. “We’ve been waiting for you—” Mina starts, but Kaminari’s vaulting over the back of the couch, eyes wide as he practically buzzes out of his skin, emitting light like crazy as currents dazzle across strands of hair. “I have a big ugly crush,” He steps off the couch and onto the coffee table, much to Bakugou’s chagrin, “On big ugly Shinsou.””

14>Blamed by coldandhotsoba: ShinKami. Tw- they fuckin kill a guy and its a lil nasty. “This was not how the day was supposed to end. They were supposed to end the day like they do most nights.  Kaminari clutching onto him like a koala as he slept, wrapped in the millions of tacky blankets Kaminari had bought. Warm and safe in their bed. It was not supposed to end with both of them tied up in some cold metal room.“

15>Lightning Scars by Present-Mics-Scream (write_your_way_out): Shinkami. “It's hard to be confident in your abilities when you're surrounded by people with incredible quirks. Shinsou Hitoshi would know better than anyone. Sure, he was admitted to the hero course in his second year, but being admitted to the hero course, and keeping up with the rest of the class are two different things. Lucky for him, Kaminari is there to prove that the flashiest quirks come with the largest drawbacks.“

16>See No Evil, Hear No Evil by randomfan188: no romantic pairing. “Kaminari Denki is legally blind. When he forgets to wear his contacts and breaks down during math class, comfort appears in the strangest of ways.“

17>how not to enjoy the weather, an article by kaminari denki by dreamtowns: no defined romantic pairing. “If there was one thing Kaminari hated the most in a world wth villains, it would have to be thunderstorms.“

18>���Studying” by emmyrox22: ShinKami, EraserMic. “Shinsou and Kaminari have been “studying” together for a while (but not for school). Shinsou gets stopped by his dads on the way to another “study” session and mistakes are made“

19>Weaknesses by sunflowerstorm: ShinKami. “Kaminari's quirk and storms compliment each other in the worst way, but he's convinced he can deal with it on his own... until he really can't any longer. When Shinsou accidentally overhears Aizawa confronting Kaminari about recent changes in behaviour and hears about the hell his quirks been putting him through, he can't just pretend he never heard. He wants to help.“

20>it’s hurt denki hours by memeingfultrash: ShinKami + others. ““Certain members of our class are...under the impression that...you’re the traitor.” Denki’s body went cold and felt like he was going to short circuit. ~some of class 1a believes that denki is the traitor and avoid him”

21>Petition to replace Mineta with Shinsou- (signed by Kaminari Denki) by CharaTheQuartz: ShinKami + others. This is one of my favorites, I go back to reread it from time to time. It SAYS 41/42, but that's just a glitch cus chapter 36 doesn't exist for some reason, I talked to the author about it and its fine. “Mineta brings shame to the color purple. You know who does not bring shame to the rich color, but pride and sexual tension to one infatuated Kaminari Denki instead? Shinsou Hitoshi, aka sexy zombie man, aka the most perfect hunk of a man to walk planet earth, aka future husband. Shinsou has finally gotten his chance to prove himself to the hero course, and he did more than prove himself. The only question left unanswered is whether he will start in A or B, and how Kaminari can manipulate the end result.“

22>How to Get a Boyfriend (in Four Easy Steps!) by e1ana: ShinKami, EraserMic, + others. “Step 1: Get kicked out of the house by your homophobic parents. Step 2: Run headfirst into your brooding, mysterious crush. Step 3: Sleep in his dad’s (see: your homeroom teacher) house Step 4: Watch everything you thought you knew go to shit. This isn’t exactly the sweet, romantic plan that Kaminari Denki longed for. Will everything be ok, or will step 5 be to crash and burn?“

23>Bakugou and Todoroki’s Foolproof 5-Step Plan to Fuck with Mineta Minoru by Anubis_2701: Kiribaku, TodoDeku, + others. This is another one of my favorites, and the one I am currently folding and sewing into a physical book. you learn how to do funny things when bored and quarantined ig. “It was a simple enough idea; screw around with the resident bastard of Class 1-A to let him know that his medieval ways and perverted behaviour weren't going to be tolerated by even the most career-focused of UA's students. To say that things had snowballed was an understatement. Todoroki had no idea how he had ended up sitting on Bakugou's floor at 1 am, holding a dossier of incriminating material that would make the FBI slobber, but he wasn't sure he wanted to know. The long and short of it was, fuck Mineta.”

24>Colour Theory by chancellorxofxtrash: TodoBakuDeku. this one’s a series. “Midoriya/Bakugo/Todoroki slow burn soulmate AU. All three of them are nerds with their own emotional issues, trying to navigate their way through becoming heroes, and their own relationship with each other.“

25>Summer Sunshine by Mara97: TodoDeku. Ever want a Barbie in a mermaid tale/Bnha crossover? No? well here you go anyway! “Instead of worrying about college, Izuku spends his summer vacation finding out his father is, supposedly, a dead merman king and going on a quest to dethrone the current king, Endeavor. Along the way, Izuku becomes close to the three journeying with him, makes friends with strangers, starts crushing on an unattainable prince, and, in the end, learns to love himself. Oh, and he saves a kingdom, too.“

26>The snowflakes on our skin and the flames in our soul are one (and the same), my love by missunderstuffyou: TodoDeku, Kiribaku. this is one of the ones I keep a running reread comment going on. its at,,, 6, atm.  “Before your quirk begins to present itself, the soulmate link comes through, and suddenly whatever you write upon your own skin appears on the body of your soulmate. As your soulmate writes to you, the emotions they feel follow through the ink.Izuku Midoriya is four years and a few months old when he first feels the slight ebbing in his arms. It doesn’t hurt… he can just feel something, and it’s enough to make him sprint into his mother’s arms screaming that his quirk is coming. She had been washing in the kitchen, and the sudden screech as her son rockets into her side is enough to make her jump with panic, immediately grabbing at him and looking for cuts and bumps before she understands his words and the stupidly bright, alight smile on his face with large, watery, hopeful eyes. Shoto Todoroki doesn’t feel his soulmate connection open up. It is drowned in the aches of a small body worked far too hard.“

27>It was dark inside the closet by Chad_Champion69420: Pre-ShinDeku? maybe? its tagged shindeku but like. it’ll make sense if you read it. “Midoriya is invited to a party. He and Shinsou decide to play a little trick on the rest of the party during Seven Minutes in Heaven.”

28>how to woo your local trash gremlin: a comprehensive guide by Todoroki shouto by wonhaebunny: TodoBaku. this is the fic that dragged me into todobaku, fun fact. “five times shouto tries to confess to bakugou, and one time he doesn't bother tryingaka: wikihow is a scam and bakugou is a terrible, terrible boy“

29>top ten photos taken right before disaster by Shookspeare: ShinDeku. “Izuku participates in a harmless prank, only to end up ruining it and running for dear life.“

30>Secrets to Share by pechebaie: no definite romantic pairing. “Kirishima comes out first, and nothing changes. Kirishima and Kaminari still hang out to complain about class and talk about boys - and sometimes girls, too, in Kaminari’s case; he still plans stupid pranks with Sero that get them sent to the principal’s or nurse’s office every time; Ashido still kicks his ass at Mario Kart without hesitation; and Bakugou doesn’t get angry at him any more than he usually does.“

31>What One Hides by Pinalinet: TodoDeku. “All Might gives class 1-A an unusual assignment that results in Midoriya Izuku and Todoroki Shouto attending a weekly acting class. But with a mysterious villain targeting individuals without Quirks, and a developing issue of Todoroki's own, an after-school assignment is the least of their worries.“

32>whether or not we’re fated, we’re meant to be by juurensha: KINDA SPOILERY. TodoDeku + others. “Todoroki didn’t have a soulmark for most of his life.His siblings all did, but up until the day of the U.A. entrance exam, he had shoved the idea aside. It’s not like they could help him anyway. And then a 9 appears on his chest, and a green-haired boy barrels into his life with a fire and ice soulmark on his arms, and suddenly Todoroki cares very much about all this could mean.”

33>The Midnight Shift by meiishu @meiishu @totallytodoroki (idk which you’d rather I attach so I went with both): ShinKami. ““Hey Toshi,” Denki says, and he laughs, clearly embarrassed. He’s got on a jean jacket that did him absolutely no help and a white tee shirt that is currently stuck to his torso. It’s got a pikachu design in the center. “By any chance, do you sell umbrellas?” “You really went out in this weather.” Hitoshi deadpans, instead of dignifying that with an answer. or hitoshi works the midnight shift at the gas station, which also doubles as a pokestop for pokemon go. of course, denki is a regular.”

34>Rock the House by AkabaneKayo: ShinKami. “It wasn’t just his bed. It was his entire fucking room shaking. Only one thought crossed his mind at that moment: “Holy shit. My room is haunted.”“

35>Technically, they’re morning kisses by CharaTheQuartz: ShinKami. “Most nights, Shinsou cannot fall sleep. Neither can Kaminari. It seems counterproductive to have a sleepover then, but they try to make it work. And they fail, but that is okay.“

36>someone to call mine by nearly_theyre: ShinKami, EraserMic “From: Me wish you were here, denks From: kitten 💛💘💛 what if i was tho? OR Four times Denki snuck into Hitoshi's room and one time he walked through the front door.“

37>Pretty by Onlymostydead (noticing some repeat authors? me too): no definite romantic pairing. “(Or, Kaminari still can't figure out bra clasps.) Kaminari has never really felt good about himself. Herself? Whichever way, not knowing doesn't make anything easier. Especially when he (she?) and Mina have their bodies swapped during training, and everything seems too right.“

38>If I offer you my hand, will you take it? by bleukitsune: Kiribaku. SPOILERY. ““Why?” Kirishima leaned back on his hands, trying to create some space between them. Too close. The ash-blond looked really nervous, his usually arrogant and cunning demeanor gone. “What do you see when you look at me? Kirishima is worried. Bakugou is hurting. After his confrontation with Midoriya, he finally reaches out to him. “

Theres way more but I haven't tagged them properly yet so that m a y come later if I can ever finish going through and adding my sorting tags.

and then a last few that Are Not Complete but im really very fond of them. not as many as id like to add, but my hands are getting tired tbh.

39>State of Mind by GuardianOfTheLoaf: no relationship YET but its looking like it’ll be either tododeku or shindeku, probably the former. EraserMic. tw- childhood neglect and severe depression. Izuku’s not a happy kid. “Izuku was a late bloomer, his quirk lying dormant until his tenth birthday when in a fit of emotion he grabs his mother and she disappears. With All Might slowly restoring his confidence Izuku begins the difficult journey into becoming a hero.“ 18/? chapters.

40>Izuku Eats His Problems by CosmicAce: ShinDeku. Izuku’s a flerkin, what more could you want? “His whole life, Izuku Midoriya was taught to keep his powers, his Quirk, hidden from the world. His kind were feared, hunted to near extinction because of it. He just wants to show people he’s different. That he can be a HERO. And nothing is going to stop him. Even if his Quirk IS like an eldritch abomination.“ 43/? chapters

and then probably my current favorite bnha fic- although it fights with Apertum Mortem for that spot but that ones d a r k and not here-

41>family of the year by periiwren: EraserMic. “Hitoshi is done. Done with moving around every few months to a couple that will scrutinize him and eventually dump him right back where he started. Good thing he’s well past his strike limit now- at least he can stay in one place, be content to age out of the system and finish out his training with Aizawa. Maybe transfer into the hero course, maybe be a hero- but none of that was guaranteed. The only thing for sure was that he was going to stay in that center for the rest of his childhood. Or so he thought- because Aizawa Shouta and Yamada Hizashi have other plans.“ 24/? chapters. we’ve been informed that this one’s gonne be l o n g and im Very Grateful.

42>Here There Be Dragons by here_and_there: pre-ShinDeku. “Izuku looked at the small circle Aizawa had motioned to in front of them. "I won't fit," he whispered, thinking. He raised his hand, tentatively. Sighing, Aizawa grumbled, "What?" "I-I have a question. Actually, two." His teacher just stared at him, unimpressed. Izuku continued. "Can we activate our quirks before we step into the ring?" Aizawa looked up into the sky, muttering something Izuku didn't hear. "If you must." "O-Okay. Uh, second question. You said we have to stay inside the circle, right?" "Yes." The man looked disappointed, not only in Izuku but in himself for letting the kid speak. "Great. Uh... does that include tails?"“ 6/? chapters.

43>Another Option by sandersonsister: TodoBakuDeku, Touya/Hawks, Dabi/Hawks. Potentially Spoilery, depends on whether horikoshi has the guts to confirm Touya. this one is waiting around the corner with a baseball bat, its really cute, and then r e a l l y painful. it might be getting better though. maybe. it might be getting worse. “When Touya stops his mother from hurting Shouto, he decides enough is enough. He needs to get out of this house and he's taking his baby brother with him.“ 33/? chapters.

That's it i’m done for now, oof. maybe ill edit more onto this post later, maybe i’ll just make another one. hope some of these work!

[deathonyourtongue]

Winter Passing | Chapter 10

Summary: After car accident leaves him at the base of a mountain with no sign of civilization for miles, a breakup is the least of Henry’s problems. Just as death’s icy fingers begin to coil around him, salvation presents itself in the form of an old cabin in a clearing. Despite years of being told fairy tales and ghost stories that warn against such things, he uses his last of his strength to reach the cottage. When he wakes, he finds not a demon, but an angel, long removed from the insanity of the modern world. Pairing: AU!Henry Cavill x OFC Word Count: 2K Warnings: None, for once. A/N : I think my tag list broke during the last update. Should be fixed now. Like what I do? Buy me a coffee!

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Send me a PM me if you’d like to be added/removed from the tag list!

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Foraging in the winter was a skill to be honed, and after finishing the morning work on the property, Henry followed Olivia out towards the wilds of the forest that took up the back end of her home. 

“I didn’t think anything grew in winter, especially out here,” he murmured, watching her intently, keen to learn and-as he tended to be more and more often with each passing day-in awe of how she moved, how she lived. 

“Technically nothing grows in winter, but there’s plenty to gather,” Olivia explained as she opened her hand, showing Henry a seed pod that resembled a dancing flame.

“The pancakes we had the other day? Were made with flour from these Hornbeam seeds. And here? These are delicious when you prepare them correctly,” Olivia explained, her other hand holding a few crabapples. 

Eyebrows up in amazement, Henry dutifully turned around, letting Olivia put more foraged goods into the backpack she’d strapped him into. “What about poisonous stuff? Or stuff that you can use for...You know…” He made a face and Olivia couldn’t help but laugh, cupping Henry’s cheek and reaching up on her tiptoes to give him a kiss as they continued their walk through the forest, protected from the elements by the thick overhead cover of the ancient trees. 

“That too. Holly and Mistletoe, though I personally have little use for them as nature intended,” Olivia nodded, her smile growing bigger as she felt Henry tuck her in under his arm, pulling her close as they fell in step with one another. 

“Tell me a story from when you were...Before you were a witch?” Henry asked, his voice soft and tinged with reticence, lest he say the wrong thing. 

“I was born a witch, sweetheart. It’s not like vampires. You don’t get turned into one at the peak of your life,” Olivia laughed sweetly, squeezing his waist with one hand while the other rubbed gently over his chest. “And before you ask, no vampires do not exist. Some of us do blood magic, which is pretty close, but none of us have fangs...That I know of.” Gazing up at him with amusement, she leaned into his strong form as they continued to walk.

“A story from when I was younger. Let’s see...When I first became aware of my powers, my favorite thing to do was hide things up in the trees. I started small; little bits of fur, some meat, one of my mother’s hair combs. No one noticed at first, of course, but then I started to get bolder. My father’s saddle was the first thing anyone really noticed, because, well, we only had one at the time. My crowning achievement though, was putting the family goat in the tallest tree of our village. It lasted all of an hour before the goat began to bleat, and a crowd formed. My parents were none too impressed. I’ll never forget my father having to climb up there, only to throw the poor thing down into an elk skin a few of our neighbors held out.”

“You were-”

“A little shit, yeah.” Olivia grinned proudly up at Henry, earning a laugh and a playful kiss, neither her nor Henry paying much attention to their surroundings, too wrapped up in the moment to care about what might be headed their way.

“Well, you turned out alright, that’s what matters, no?” Henry chuckled, giving her a warm squeeze and another kiss to the temple. 

Olivia couldn’t remember a time when she’d felt more at peace and more elated. Looking up at him, she knew Henry was the root cause, but after centuries of solitude and suffering, Olivia refused to let the fear of the unknown take hold. What they had was all she’d ever wanted, and she wasn’t about to let it slip from between her fingers. 

The choice, however, didn’t seem to be hers. 

As they rounded the path into a smaller clearing just west of the cottage, the woods turned silent. Though it was winter, the forest still tended to be a cacophony of sounds, from bird calls to deer munching on berries. The silence was unnerving, and looking over her shoulder, Olivia’s unease grew into fear as she watched Gunnar go into a low crouch. Eyes fixed on the clearing, the husky bared his teeth and raised his hackles, on the defensive. 

Olivia had barely turned back around when she caught sight of the apparition. Despite the cloud-covered sunlight that streamed into the clearing, the creature still terrified her, as the light allowed her to see her mother’s visage in greater detail. 

Henry’s hold on her tightened instinctively, his eyes fixed on the ghostly image before him. “Liv, darling, what do we do?” He whispered, his concern growing when he felt Olivia begin to tremble. 

Hiding her face in his chest a moment, Olivia worked to get her breathing back under control, fighting off every urge to run, knowing that doing so would only aggravate the apparition. Instead, she felt an anger grow inside her, usurping the fear as she forced herself to remember that this land was hers. With a push away from Henry, she turned her full attention to the spirit, drawing it closer with her actions. 

“Gunnar, stay.” She commanded when she heard the husky stalk closer, a low rumble making it clear he was ready to attack at any moment. 

“You’re not welcome here. Leave. Now.” Olivia spoke firmly, taking off her gloves. Henry’s eyes went wide when he noticed the aquamarine waves entwining around Olivia’s fingers. Moving like the ocean itself, they crashed and flowed, gathering in strength and fury until they created a stormy swell between her hands. There was no doubt, even to Henry, that if she let go, whoever was on the receiving end of the rush of water, would be in for a terrible time.

“Last chance, wretch. Tell me who summoned you and from whence you came, or suffer even more than you already have.”

The water between her hands began to glow, and upon closer inspection, Henry realized there was fire beneath the waves and the true nature of Olivia’s threat became clear. Being hit with a jet of water was one thing, but if that water were hotter than an open flame, spurned by anger, it was something else entirely.

Frozen in place, Henry couldn’t stop his cry of fear as the apparition suddenly lunged forward, screeching when it was hit full on by Olivia’s fury. To his surprise, the thing began to disintegrate once more, although this time, the process seemed far more grotesque. Instead of fading, the water seemed to eat away at the apparition, like acid on metal. It turned his stomach, but he couldn’t look away, fascinated and appalled in equal measure. 

Just before its face melted away, the creature let out another ear-piercing wail, the singular word it spoke chilling Henry to the bone. 

TABITHA!!

Unable to keep from shivering, Henry only found himself able to move when Gunnar nuzzled at his thigh, the husky’s demeanor back to normal as he sat at Henry’s feet. 

“Tabitha? Who’s Tabitha?” Olivia asked as she shook off her own chill, the creature’s all-white stare one that would be burned into her memory for a very long time. Moving back to where Henry stood shell shocked, she rubbed his back, knowing full well this could be his breaking point. 

“T-Tabitha’s my ex-girlfriend’s name. I w-was leaving her the day you saved me.” 

Olivia could feel the chill in his body, the fear in his heart as he made the connection. Though she had no idea how long they’d been together, the betrayal and astonishment Henry felt coursed through every vein, and it didn’t take a genius to realize that Tabitha had kept her true nature a secret from her lover. 

Taking Henry’s hand in hers, Olivia turned them in the direction of home, hoping the hearth, some tea, and her thickest blanket would be enough to ease the pain she knew was imminent in Henry’s very tender heart. 

“What I don’t understand is...Why’d she have your mother’s face?” Henry mumbled long after his tea was gone, his gaze still despondent as he sat curled up on the couch, as close to the hearth as he could manage. 

“If she’s as strong as she seems, Tabitha will have seen me with you. It doesn’t take a lot of work to conjure up a family line, even one as old as mine. She’d have found my mother’s face in my thoughts without breaking much of a sweat.”

A visible shiver went through Henry and he shook his head, looking for all the world like he might cry at any moment. Frowning, Olivia curled up next to him, making sure he could feel her arms squeezing tightly around his torso, hoping the contact would ground him. 

“Am I cursed?” Henry’s question made Olivia’s laugh spill out before she could stop it. 

“I wouldn’t say that. After all, only one of us is sending threats, and from what little you’ve told me, it sounds like she wasn’t the most pleasant person to begin with.” Shifting easily with Henry, Olivia let him settle as they both laid out on the couch. With his head between her breasts, she finally felt Henry’s anxiety ease and his heart rate slow. 

The crash against the window sent them both flying off the couch, once more on high alert. 

“Oh my god, it’s just an owl. Christ, where’s Dyster when you need him?” Olivia muttered to herself as she moved to the window, opening it to let the bird in. Scrambling up the couch and as far away from the black-and-white-feathered creature as possible, Henry’s wide-eyed look matched the owl’s, the two staring at one another for a long moment before the bird turned its attention to Olivia.

“I come on behalf of--”

“Theofina, right? Yeah, I get it. I’m wanted in Rome. Since it seems I don’t have much of a choice, tell her to ready my apartments, and that I’ll be bringing a guest not of our order. How’s your beak? You hit pretty hard.” 

“It’s fine, ma’am. Just wasn’t paying attention as there was a mouse and, well, I’m hungry.” The difference between the two emissaries couldn’t have been more blatant, and not for the first time, Olivia wondered just how much had truly changed in her former home.

“Here, I have some rabbit to spare. Warm yourself by the fire. Are you pressed for time?” Olivia asked, doing her best to ignore Henry’s befuddled expression as she pulled some raw rabbit from the floor cooler, cutting it in half before meeting the bird by the hearth.

“What’s your name?” She asked, stroking over his head gently, surprised when she still felt a chill in his feathers.

“Atrix, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am.” Atrix bowed his head for a moment before taking the offered meat and downing it in go. 

“Are you treated well?”

“I’m given a home, food, and responsibility, ma’am. That’s all I require.” Atrix nodded, his eyes closing in peaceful enjoyment of the food in his belly, the heat from the fire, and Olivia’s caring touch. 

“Good. Go when you’re ready. I’ll leave the window open.” Olivia spoke softly, feeding Atrix the second half of the rabbit before moving to wash her hands. 

“Thank you, ma’am. You’ve been most kind. Is this the guest you intend to bring, in the typical way?” Atrix questioned, his eyes going as wide as saucers before he turned his head nearly all the way around to look at Henry. 

“Yes. It might be uncomfortable, but it’s the quickest way there, and I know he’s strong enough to endure it.”  

“Endure? Endure what?” Henry asked, eyes still fixed on the owl, unsure of what was being talked about, given he could only hear one half of the conversation. 

“How do you feel about a quick trip to Rome with me?”

[fuckyeahharryhart]

PART 3 HARRY HART FAN FICTION Because they better give him a good story for the last Kingsman. In case they don’t, I wrote something myself.

PART  3

FAN FIC

KINGSMAN III: REDACTED

MULTI PART SERIES:(My version of Kingsman 3)

Harry Hart x Original Character

Warnings: Reference to violence

Word Count: 5,000

OVERVIEW: After the events of Kingsman, The Golden Circle, Harry, Eggsy and the rest of the survivors rebuild their agency to it’s former level of integrity. A new player arrives unexpectedly, carrying memories of the past that will change the future of Kingsman.

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Gwendolyn, having played her last card, shares a drink with Harry and Eggsy while she tells them who she is, where she came from and why she was spying on them.

------

The Black Prince Public House stood on a quiet corner in South London’s, Kensington. The pub dated back to the early 20th century and its name referred to the road where it stood. The wall were painted a dark forest green with black trim. Its name was displayed in gold. It was the place to go, its sign stated, for FINE ALES AND STOUT, but the three patrons inside, seated at one of the booths at the rear, decided that something a little stronger was appropriate after the evening’s turn of events.

Gwendolyn decided this was a drink she was waiting for her whole life and, therefore, if she was going to “celebrate”, was not the right word, perhaps “commemorate the occasion” was a better term, she was going to do it properly. She had acquired a taste for fine scotch and chose accordingly. She was quite sure the two men were slightly taken aback when she ordered three The Macallan 25’s, neat, for the table. She was fairly certain that this warm, friendly, unassuming neighbourhood pub would not carry The Maccallan M Edition, or the Silver Jubilee, or the Dalmore 64.  so she didn’t inquire, but even the cost of the three glasses would be relatively extravagant. The price wasn’t a concern of hers and she was sure it wasn’t a concern of the Kingsman, whose coffers went deep. She wasn’t beyond offending any gentlemanly sensibilities this evening. They were beyond chivalry. And she wasn’t about to tolerate either of them possibly ordering for her.

The two men regarded her if she were a new species of female. She probably was. There were female Kingsman agents, but they too, followed Kingsman protocol, regardless of gender. The behaviour, actions, mannerisms of all Kingsman were consistent, familiar, reliable, while she was under no such constraints.  If her behaviour this evening was unseemly, “unladylike”, she really couldn’t give a rat’s arse. She was here for a reason and her methods got her job done. Perhaps with less grace and finesse than she was hoping for, but she got her results.

The three short tumblrs of scotch were placed in front of them. It had been a very long time since The Black Black Prince had poured not one, but three from that particular bottle. As it was custom that the host, or hostess for this matter, make a toast and she didn’t yet make a move toward her glass, the two men waited to follow her lead. So now they decide to be polite, she thought.

“Well, then.” she began. She was slightly irritated at their seemingly perfect presentation, at least on Harry’s part. Eggsy was not beyond taking a more relaxed shape and leaned back into the booth. His tie was loosened and his suit coat unbuttoned. His hair slightly mused even though he did not participate in any of the more physical aspects of their evening, as if that was its natural state. He would have shrugged out of his jacket if it weren’t for his shoulder holster.

Harry Hart, returned back to his gentlemanly demeanour, sat straight, but comfortably, his suit and tie still perfectly in place. Even his hair had somehow returned to its initial state, smooth waves brushed back into shape. It made her feel somewhat uncomfortable to see him so poised after the physical contact they had made. She had flipped him over her head, had a knife to his throat, kicked him fairly hard in the shin, and he looked none the worse for wear. Only his expression, equal parts indignant, concerned, and vaguely offended, revealed that anything of interest had occurred.

In contrast, even turning toward him was likely to throw her off balance. A feeling she did not enjoy one bit. Just her quick glance in his direction and she could feel him behind her again, pressing against her, the long line of his legs, the broadness of his chest across her back, the sheer size of him, the smell of his wool suit and the cologne, soap or whatever made him smell so good and she felt a rush of blood rise up to her cheeks. She clenched her jaw and flushed. She was hoping that they would take it for her high emotional state after their confrontation, not the fact that she found herself neatly attracted to a man she only just met and almost twice her age.

His refined manner only made her that much more aware of her own disheveled state. Her hair, a black cloud that had been blown all over, her pedestrian attire, though not unattractive, in no way matched the elegance of their Kingsman suits. No cosmetics, no adornment, not that those elements of her outward appearance were particularly important to her, in the face of their stately masculinity, she felt decidedly unfeminine. And regardless of her feelings, she knew that her looks were as much of a tool for a spy as her words or actions. She convinced herself she wasn’t concerned just because she wanted Harry to find her attractive.

Her personal feelings seeped into her professional persona. She reeled back her thoughts and replaced them with a cool, calm, collected mindset with a specific objective. If she kept her personal feelings at bay now, she could let it all out after her mission was accomplished. She drilled into her brain, be smart now, feel later.

Until she felt differently, she approached this as she would any other meeting of an asset or target. What she needed from the relationship and how could she get them to do what she wanted was just as much about finding out what they needed, and how to make it seem she was giving them what they wanted.  Almost every relationship was based on a desire to be heard and understood. Wants and needs were always self-revealed, unwittingly or intently. She just had to listen.

Unfortunately, for this first meeting, she would be the one doing most of the talking. She knew being genuine, sincere, and honest, would be in her best interest.  The more and better we are heard and understood, she thought, the more we are willing to and want to engage and respond. The sensation of being listened to was a powerful motivator and feeling enhancer to all people, it was human nature.  It was why we befriended those that listened to us, worked for those that heard us, and fell in love with those that understood us.

——

“Well” she repeated, refocusing. She shifted her posture, drew her shoulders back, lifted her head a little higher, and held the space around her. Composing herself just as she would with any new asset would put her back on target. Remember your training.

“I’m sure you have many questions.” She opened up the table.

Harry, as direct as she, got right to the point.

“How are we to trust that you are really Merlin’s daughter? He never spoke of family.”

He folded his hands together, looking stern with a slight narrowing of his eyes, his brow with just a hint of a furrow.

Harry’s eyes roved over her, her posture, hands, the angles of her face. He listened to the inflections of her voice, searching for any tells that might indicate she was being less than honest. He looked for any hint of the tall Scotsman in this young woman. The loss of Merlin was still a wound that was raw. For both he and Eggsy. He wouldn’t tolerate anyone using his death as an excuse, no matter the reason, but especially if it was a false one.

“He wouldn’t have.” She replied bluntly. “

“ How much did you know of Hamish?” She asked.

She emphasised the pronunciation of his given name. Hay-mish.

“That is, before he came to Kingsman.”

The two men glanced at each other, but did not speak. Admittedly, they did not know of Merlin’s past. He never offered, and as gentleman, they never asked. They both knew that spies usually became spies because of something dark and fucked up from their past, and Harry had no doubt this was the same for Merlin. Hence, he never questioned his unwillingness to disclose his life prior to Kingsman. Harry was the same, just as unwilling to divulge his own personal information.

Eggsy, “That doesn’t mean anything. Anyone can say that.”

Harry leaned forward slightly, emphasising the importance of his words. They were low and sharp.

“If you really are who you say you are, then you know that his loss is one that we still feel every day.”

He shot a glance toward Eggsy, who more than anyone, felt the weight of his death.

“We will not condone anyone using his name for their own motives. Have you proof?”

She surveyed them for a moment. She considered her words and chose them with care. Her words were all she had and they carried a heavy weight. They had to be strong enough to deliver the message she was about to send. He eyes moved to her drink, still untouched.  Mindfulness was key. As was paying attention to their responses, observing them with the intent to understand. Through her words, she would see how they felt, what they were thinking, and most of all, what they wanted or needed.

She cleared her throat. She met one pair of eyes and then the other.  She poised herself to say something that, to her, held the utmost honour and importance. She took a deep breath in. At the end of her exhalation, she spoke. Her voice was low as well. Her words were even more powerful for her lack of emotion.

“My father’s favorite song was ‘Country Roads.’ by John Denver.”

The entire room seemed to suddenly quiet with stupefaction.

“My father was singing it, when he stepped off of a land mine to save both of your lives. And to save your mission. For my father, the mission always came first.”

For the two men, this was an impossible statement. No one, set aside Eggsy and himself had that knowledge. Not even other Kingsman.

Harry spoke, this time with frank disbelief. He wasn’t even questioning her. He was asking himself. Out loud. Without his familiar strength and surety.

“That is impossible. There is no possible way you could know that.”

With the same poise, the same simplicity, she explained.

“I was there when he died.” Observing their state of bewilderment, she clarified. “Via satellite and reconnaissance drones.” Which didn’t ease their confusion.

“If you worked with my father, you knew he was a brilliant strategist. He wasn’t merely good, he was gifted. He had the talent of an artist. Some of that talent filtered down to me. I’ll never be as good as he was, but I was good enough to hack the communication band that Statesman had in place for reconnaissance and I had access to audio and visual of the events that led to, and after his death.”

Impossible would never have the same meaning for them again. Because this young woman’s story was utterly impossible. Yet, here it was, an impossible situation.  

She turned slightly toward Eggsy and held his blue eyes with her grey. Her voice took on an undefinable emotion, “I know that he took your place on a land mine, Eggsy.”

And with that confession, he was forced to drop his gaze. Is this how Harry felt when he had to tell him that it was due to Harry’s own mistake that Eggy’s father died? Guilt was physical. It was a crushing weight on his chest that made it hard to breathe.

“I know that he died in the way that he wanted.”

She added with a note of empathy and understanding to slightly ease their guilt and their shock.  

“He was able to give his life for those close to him.”

Neither of the men could think of anything to say. Harry Hart, who was never at a loss for words, found himself unable to find a single word that would be appropriate for a time and situation like this.

Gwendolyn sighed internally. At least now she had their full attention. She was quite certain that she would not be interrupted this time around.

“Perhaps,”  she said. Her voice now carried a softer note. It was not the voice of an agent. It was the voice of a daughter.

“Perhaps, I should start at the beginning”.

“But first.” she paused and picked up her glass, holding her arm out toward the men, the glass in her hand.

Harry and Eggsy, first exchanging a look in the other’s direction, followed suit. Each man took a glass and waited, with the warm golden liquid breaking up the lines of dim light that hovered over their table.

She suddenly felt overcome once more, as she had been when she first stepped off the train and onto the concourse on her arrival. She channeled that emotion into her toast, which was brief and heartbreaking in its simplicity.

Holding up her glass, “To my father, Hamish Mycroft.” She paused. “And to Merlin.”

Each of them held the gaze of the other two as their glasses touched with a light, crisp ring. Each drank back its contents.

——

As three glasses hit the hardwood of the table. Gwendolyn began to speak. Her story was a long and complicated one. And unfortunately, the two men could tell, it would be a sad one. An unknown daughter of a colleague that you’ve known for most of your adult life doesn’t suddenly appear after his death with good news.

“My father, whose given name was Hamish Mycroft, was married. He had three children. Two boys and a girl. I was the youngest.”

The slightly blank, yet confused faces made it seem like she had already given them more information than they could process. She paused, gestured to the barkeep for another round. The scotch would do good to kick in soon, because her story was not going to get any easier.

“Before he had a family, he worked with far east intelligence, recruited after his time in the army, where he had been stationed in Tibet, Bhutan, and other East Asian territories.”

She nodded her thanks to the barman, who delivered their second round of drinks. The scotch should have been savoured, but she felt at the time, a tip back for her father was right, even though he would have been horrified to see her shoot back a scotch of such high quality. This one however, she would sip.

“While he was working as a field operative at the station in Bhutan, he met a very beautiful Bhutanese woman, Evelyn, my mother, who was also working intelligence, but as a handler. Based on their skill assessment, they were assigned to work as a team. They would run missions together. My father as the operative. My mother, his handler. Hence, I myself am half Scottish, half Bhutanese. If you’ve had difficulty pinpointing my ethnicity. It’s not a common pairing.”

“Even though the agency opposed ‘close and continuing’, inter-agency relationships and relationships in general, Hamish believed that he could live a normal life. That he could have a wife and family despite working in intelligence. They were an example of having a successful home life in addition to a successful career and they were very happy for a long time.”

Merlin as a husband and father were the farthest roles that Harry and Eggsy could imagine him in. The brusk, often testy, disagreeable scotsman, with all the warmth of a potato, with a wife and children.

Gwendolyn continued with her story. Pausing after a long stretch for a sip of her scotch, but for the most part, continuously and without any interruption from the two men. They were both a bit stupefied that one of their closest, most respected and trusted colleagues had an entire past of which they had no knowledge.

—

Hamish was smitten at first glance. On Evelyn’s side, it was more appropriate to say that she tolerated his presence . And even that was putting things kindly. Eventually, he was able to win her over with his rough Scottish brogue, his biting sense of humour and dry wit. Underneath the sarcasm and abrupt, even gruff personality, she sensed a very kind soul who possessed a good heart. It was simply being protected by a shield designed to keep people at arms length.

Though as handler and operative, there could be no shields. There could not be even a hairs breadth distance between a team, let alone an arms length. The operative’s life was literally in the hands of the handler. If they weren’t working, existing, breathing as one, it would be only a matter of time until the operative would find himself in a position where he needed his handler, but the handler wouldn’t be able to provide. Or the agent, not fully trusting his handler, withheld crucial information, therefore setting up his handler to fail in the case where he needs life threatening assistance. These relationships often ended in the death of the operative, as he had to fully entrust not only the capability of his handler, but also fully trust the person behind his earpiece. The relationship had to be based, on not only on professional compatibility, but on a personal and emotional connection as well.  Whatever jesting nature, or standoffish front either of them first presented to each other dissolved when they were on mission. The trust was profound. It was scary to know the circumstances they had been through together and how much each of them put their lives in the hands of the other.

Their relationship was highly personal, intense, and emotional. The nature of their relationship was a powerful force behind their choice to be together and to devote their loyalties to a single agency, with a singular mission, to preserve life and to protect the innocent. However, this often resulted in taking out some very bad, very large, very powerful players off the world’s stage. When they both proved themselves more than capable individually, and even beyond exceptional as a team, they were brought on to the Maximum Threat, Maximum Risk Special Operations Division, or MTMR.

The MTMR, only dealt with the worst of the worst, and then the unthinkable of the worst. These were the terrorists, the warlords, those with enough power and influence to bypass almost any law, any treaty and any world decree. Those who would violate human rights and the rules of engagement. They were the worst of the worst, but also the lowest of the low. In their eyes, life was a commodity to be traded, abused or without value and discarded at will. This is what happened when psychopaths achieved power. Without empathy, without a conscious, without a sense of right or wrong or any moral accountability, without any value of life. These were the most dangerous and most difficult enemies to engage. Not only could they commit the most horrible atrocities, they were usually narcissists as well, dynamic, charismatic, even charming. Therefore, their inner circle was comprised of sycophants who provided his narcissistic supply. They eliminated those that were either immune to their charms, or were beginning to understand the true nature of their personality, which was that of a very highly functioning psychopath.

In this division, Hamish did not operate in the field, but joined Evelyn in strategic planning and outcomes. They worked as a team. Hamish, with his knowledge of the field as a Special Operations Officer, possessed the skills to operate weapons and explosives, to take on missions to gather intelligence and destroy targets in hostile environments. He knew the dangers, the variables, the best strategies.

Evelyn provided critical thinking.  She had the ability to predict outcomes, to make the most difficult life and death decisions without hesitation and be a leader to her team . The pair became an invaluable asset to the division. It was proof to them, when the agency acknowledged their value, not as separate agents, not as a handler and operative, but as a team, that they could be in the world of espionage as husband and wife with a family. The agency saw that their success was based on not only their expertise, but BECAUSE of, not despite their relationship. The closeness, the sheer absolute trust that they had in each other, and their love kept them committed to each other and their work. They experienced both a fulfilling family life and successful professional life for longer than anyone could hope for in their line of work.

During their successful tenure in the MTMR Special Ops, one operation took precedence over all others. They were both actively involved, not only in gathering intel, but in the entire intelligence cycle.  First, with planning, identifying possible threats and what they needed to know about the threat with world leaders and decision makers. Collection, which was the division they both began in, the physical collection of target information through operations. Analysis, examining the new information, looking for connections, key points, new developments, and combining it with what they already knew, creating useful and actionable intelligence. Lastly, was Dissemination, where the new intelligence was discussed with politicians and decision makers who then decided whether to take action or if more information was needed.

It was during one of these cycles, where Evelyn and Hamish were assigned as head officers of a mission. It was a mission that resulted from intel that their team had collected, analysed and produced. The target was an international underground world leader, not of any established or recognised government. He threatened to destabilise society. Not through government or any means of authority. He wasn’t targeting positions of leadership. He wasn’t engaging in the trickle down theory. He was starting at the bottom. First, was taking out crops, tainting water supplies, poisoning livestock. He did not bother with small areas. He targeted the largest ones. Locations with the most impact and the widest effect.  Civil unrest was next. Which turned into peaceful demonstrations. Then came active protest. Followed by violent protest. Then it was rioting, looting. And when fear took hold, it was domestic terrorism. He was using the countries own people to destabilise the structure, the foundation of civilisation, which was based on people working together.

Apparently, he was not one to follow the saying, “The fish rots from the head down.” Meaning that without sound leadership, the people will eventually turn bad and die off. When in actuality, the guts, the contents of the fish begins to rot first. Perhaps the warlord followed this philosophy. Corrupt the innovators, the providers, the creators of sustenance, essentially the life givers, and civilised society will begin to rot from, not the head down, but from the inside out.

In conjunction with the US, the British Armed Forces and other key international allies, they were able to coordinate an airstrike. It was successful in so much that they destroyed their enemies home base, their world HQ and well as almost all of their high level leadership. However, they missed their main target. Also on the strike list, was the home of Azal Aamon, which was where he was supposed to be at the time of the strike. His family, wife and two children were to be collateral damage. Unfortunate, but sometimes unavoidable in times of war. But after reviewing the DNA evidence to confirm the targets as deceased, his family was identified, but Aamon’s DNA was not found. No one had knowledge of how he was able to avoid or survive the attack. The last piece of intel that they had verified, was his location at the time of fire.

———

Inside the Black Prince, Gwendolyn paused. She reached for her drink, lifted the glass to her lips, and took a small sip. Harry saw her jaw working as she let the scotch rest on her palate, allowing it to reach all the areas of her tongue so she could appreciate its aromatic notes before she swallowed.  It was a gesture he was familiar with, one that he made every time he enjoyed his own drink, but it was especially interesting to see this decidedly, he was not a sexist in any way, shape or form, but this particularly male gesture take shape on her extremely feminine and delicate face. He felt decidedly uncomfortable. So he simply took her lead and followed suit with a swallow of his own. As did Eggsy, who was leaning forward at this point, his elbows on the table and his tie even more undone, as were the few top buttons of his shirt. Harry as always, remained properly attired.

She looked at both of them, her eyes inquiring, silently asking if they had any questions, if they needed any clarifications, to see if they understood. To confirm that they believed her.

Harry was particularly intrigued. Out of all the coincidences that seemed to be happening, he knew precisely, the mission she was referring to. The British Armed Forces did take part in the Aamon mission and he knew this because he was part of the BAF at that time.  He had been directly involved in the operations side of the mission. How was it possible that he had this experience in common with Merlin and it never came up in conversation? He thought back to the rare times where they would share stories, sometimes while waiting out a mission, or after a successful one, over a drink just like this. He recalled sharing a few stories from his time in the military, but thinking back, could not recall a single instance that Merlin even mentioned his time in the army, or anything really prior his employment with Kingsman. Harry only knew that he had been military. Out of all the possible connections that they had, one of the biggest ones that they shared remained unknown until after his death.

Gwendoyn was regarding him thoughtfully, knowing that he had made some kind of connection or realisation, but she didn’t mention it and he was grateful. He tipped his head, asking her to please continue.

“As you can imagine, this was seen as a failed mission on paper, since they did not terminate their main target. But in many ways it was a huge success. An operation of this scale, with multiple targets on the board, with international military and intelligence coordination, with minimal collateral damage, is typically unheard of, and my parents were honoured to have lead their intelligence division. I’m not sure if Kingsman participates in this particular tradition, but after high risk missions of this nature, officers and operatives, if it is feasible, are offered time off, mostly to decompress. The agency is aware that if their officers and operatives work at that level of intensity for prolonged periods of time, they will burn out. It’s not possible to sustain that level of stress at length without a chance to wind down.”

It was quiet. Gwendolyn has stopped speaking. Harry could see that she was taking time to collect her thoughts again. He wasn’t sure why she needed to. She was recalling a very complicated and personal story with an eloquence, a clarity and a dignity that he respected very much. She wasn’t just reminiscing about a story, reciting history, or a past event. Their comprehension was important to her. This wasn’t about her “getting something off of her chest”. He had the feeling that she could be very happy never having to say any of these words ever again. She wasn’t looking for support or understanding. She was making sure that THEY understood her story. It wasn’t sympathy for her that she wanted. She was looking for absorbtion  Particularly from Harry. Most likely because he had the longest relationship with Merlin. But she was fixing him with a very intense gaze that he was not quite sure what to do with.

Harry already felt a particular sadness. He knew where this story was heading. He might not know the specifics yet, but you didn’t need to be a spy to know there was no happy ending for her. Out of a family that was once a mother, a father, and two brothers, this woman was the only one sitting in front of them. His respect for her was growing with each moment. He was feeling quite sorry now, for treating her so roughly.

She picked up her story, dusted it a little, found where she left off and resumed. Her voice became detached once again, but her words never faltered.

“We were all on break. Because they both got time off, that meant the whole family was on break. It was very rare for us. For the family, for me, those times were very special.  I don’t remember many other times we had that kind of chance. Of course, outings were still agency outings. I was really too small at the time, six, but that was our life. I didn’t know any different then. But my parents, because of their positions, were at high risk for retaliation and we always had protection with us. My brothers and I had protocol, even back then. No speaking to strangers, at all. Never speaking about my parents, never offering any personal information. Never giving out my name. If we were ever to get lost, we were never to ask for them or speak their names. We had one number to call and it was not even theirs. It was the agency’s number, created just for us to have in case of an emergency. There was actually a person whose job it was to be prepared if they ever received a call from us. Very few people, and only those with high security clearance, had information about our family. We were referred to as assets. Not by our names.”

As she continued, The more emotion left her voice, the more matter of fact she became, as she became more composed, more stoic, Harry felt his sadness slowly turn into inevitable dread. He was also aware of the second mission that followed up the first air strike. He was also assigned operations support for the BAF’s involvement. He had heard stories about what had happened at intelligence HQ, but never anything confirmed. If she had been involved in that, it was worse than he thought.

------

Look for future posts :) If you made it this far, thanks for reading! Feedback, likes and reblogs are always helpful and much appreciated. If you have a chance, would love to hear your thoughts!

[borealis-strange]

Chapter 1: Better off alone

Summary:

— Darling, we've already talked about this. I know you miss your old school, at least try to see the positive side of it, you will surely make a lot of friends —

Regina didn't want new friends, she didn't need them. She wanted to go back to her old neighborhood and her old school. After the divorce of her parents, her mother believed that they could use a change of environment.

It was probably for the best, but Regina didn't care. All this change was making things even more difficult than they already were.

Notes: Inspired by @bambirexwrites​ and a dream I had the other day, I decided to write this. I know it's not amazing, it's more like an experiment to write something without any fantasy elements in it.

Also, I don't know how schools in the UK work, so I based this a little bit in my own experience.If people like this, I'll consider continue writing it. (Even though I don't know how to continue it

P.S: I'm terrible at descriptions ;-;

— Do I really have to go? — Asked Regina.

Regina's mother sighed heavily.

They were both in the car on their way to "The Queen Academy", Regina's new school.

— Darling, we've already talked about this. I know you miss your old school, at least try to see the positive side of it, you will surely make a lot of friends —

Regina didn't want new friends, she didn't need them. She wanted to go back to her old neighborhood and her old school. After the divorce of her parents, her mother believed that they could use a change of environment.

It was probably for the best, but Regina didn't care. All this change was making things even more difficult than they already were.

Regina sighed heavily and pressed her face against the glass. Neither spoke for several minutes while the radio was in the background.

Regina watched her from the car window, it was quite imposing. The school was huge, gray in color.

— Well ... It's time for you to come in — said her mother — Good luck darling —she said as she kissed Regina on the forehead.

Regina just gave him a smile. She took her things, and got out of the car.

"It looks more like a prison than a school" Regina thought before entering.

The hallway was packed with girls, all in the same boring school uniform. The same gray skirt, the same ugly sweater, and the same uncomfortable shoes. Regina already had the first reason for her to miss her old school, there they allowed them to go with the clothes that she wanted. In addition to the fact that here it was mandatory to go with your hair up.

After wandering the drab hallways she found her classroom. With a bit of nerves she entered.

The classroom was small, with only 20 seats. There were a few girls talking, and others were already sitting in their places. They didn't even turn to see Regina, which she thanked internally.

She quickly scanned the room for a seat  without an owner. The only available spot was next to a curly-haired girl at the back of the room. Regina walked over, avoiding tripping over the other benches, and sat down next to the girl.

The girl had her head stuck in a book, it had to be very interesting, because she didn't even flinch when Regina arrived.

"Should I say something?" The blonde considered "It would be rude of me not to"

— Hi  — She greeted her classmates — I'm Regina Taylor, nice to meet you — she said with a smile on her face.

The girl looked up, revealing her hazel eyes.

"What beautiful eyes" Regina thought as she held her breath.

—I'm Brianna — She said returning the smile — Brianna May. You're the new girl, right?

Regina nodded awkwardly, still lost in Brianna's eyes. Why was her heart pounding so hard?

—Yes… yes it's me — Regina stammered quickly when she realized that she was still staring at  Brianna — My mom thought it was a good idea to change schools at the last minute. And ... well ... Here I am — Regina said nervously.

"God, I already ruined my first impression" Regina thought as she mentally beat herself up.

— Did you change your school two weeks after you started? — Asked Brianna puzzled.

Regina forced herself to laugh a little.

— Yes and no. I didn't actually go to school at the beginning of the semester. I just moved here and well ... my mom and I were busy with all this stuff  —

— So ... you don't know the city? —

Regina shook her head.

— I could show you the city one day. If you want ... of course —

— It would be nice — Brianna looked at her strangely — I mean ... it would be fine —

They talked for a while while they waited for their teacher to arrive. Not about relevant things but to get to know each other a little better. Favorite music, movies, a bit of their family, the usual. Regina discovered that they had a lot in common, a great love for music, especially Rock and the dream of becoming a rockstar. In addition, she learned that Brianna had a great passion for the universe and its origins, which she found adorable.

— Good morning ladies — A woman entered, interrupting her conversation — As soon as she entered all the girls fell silent immediately.

The class was about classic literature.

In itself, Regina did not care much about these things and the teacher did not do anything to make her interested. She had the most monotonous and boring voice she had ever heard. Regina had to fight not to fall asleep.

Not to give a bad image to Brianna, who paid attention and took notes of everything she wanted. So she did everything she could to stay awake, mainly to draw pictures in her notebook.

______________

— You must be quick if you want to eat something in the cafeteria — Brianna recommended as they walked through the corridors of the school — It fills with girls when you least expect it. The only good thing is that this teacher lets us leave her class early.—

The cafeteria was small, compared to the rest of the school, with only about ten tables.

They approached the bar to order their food.

Regina ordered a chicken sandwich while Brianna ordered a salad

When the food was delivered, they both found a table clean enough to sit on.

The food was good, rather, better than Regina had expected. In her old school the food was disgusting, many times she did not even know that they were supposed to be serving (which is why Regina preferred to bring her own food) 

Out of nowhere a girl with short black hair approaches their table. Behind her came a girl with brown hair.

— Hi Brie — Said the girl with dark hair — Do you mind if we sit here? — Asked the girl as she sat down

— Great! — The girl exclaimed before Brie could say something.

The black-haired girl turned to see Regina. She looked her up and down with a look of disgust. Regina didn't even know where to look.

— You're the new one, right? — Asked the girl. Regina nodded slowly — I'm Freddie, nice to meet you — she said with the most fake smile Regina had ever seen. — And this is Joanna, my best friend — She pointed to the girl who sat next to her.

Joanna waved sheepishly.

—I'm Regina  — she said, hesitating with her words. — Pleased to meet you?

Regina sought comfort from Brianna but she didn't say anything. She must already know Freddie and Joanna, although she didn't seem very happy with their presence.

For the rest of the recess, Freddie kept talking about things that didn't matter to Regina at all. Every time Regina tried to change the subject, Freddie wouldn't let her and kept talking. She didn't even understand what she was talking about, it was about fashion or something. She reminded her of their first class teacher, only with much more exaggerated movements.

After what seemed like forever, the bell rang, saving Regina from having to keep listening to Freddie.

________________

Finally, there was only one class left so Regina could go home after a long and boring day.

She was in her classroom, waiting for her chemistry teacher. Regina was copying some notes from the first few weeks that Brianna had lent her. Which she greatly appreciated.

Out of the corner of her eye Regina saw Freddie and Joanna leave the room, in the most suspicious way possible.

"What are the two of them up to?" Regina thought.

In a fit of curiosity, or stupidity, she decided to follow them. Regina had never trusted Freddie, even though he had only lived with her once, but she knew he had nothing good in mind.

— Wait for me a minute — Regina told Brianna before leaving the classroom.

She watched as the girls walked carefully, probably so no one would see them. Regina did the same

Freddie and Joanna entered an office and closed the door behind them.

Regina made sure no one was around so she could look out the small window in the door. She saw how Freddie seemed to be looking for something. She opened and closed drawers, carefully sifting through the papers.

She didn't want to be that classmate who accused the others, but Freddie's behavior was unacceptable.

— What are you doing? — Regina asked as soon as she opened the door

Freddie stopped searching and turned to see the blonde.

— What are you doing here? — Freddie asked annoyed, putting his hands on her waist.

— I'm asking you the same. What are you doing in Professor Reid's office? —

— None of your concern — Freddie said as she rolled his eyes

The door flew open, revealing Brianna's curly hair.

— What are you doing here? — Brianna asked closing her door behind her.

— What are you doing here? — Freddie questioned.

— I asked first — Brianna snapped.

— And I ... asked later —

— You can not be here. We have class and you are doing who knows what —

— Well, I do what I want —

Regina wanted to scold Freddie but Brianna did it first. In a few seconds, the office became a sea of ​​shouting and insults. One said something, the other answered and it was a never ending story.

—Girls — Joanna said in a small voice trying to get their attention.

They completely ignored her, they kept fighting as if she didn't exist.

— Girls — she tried one more time without success.

— Girls! — Joanna finally yelled.

— WHAT!? — Said the three in unison, turning to see her.

Once she had the attention of her classmates she was willing to speak but someone suddenly opened the door.

It was Professor Reid. All the girls froze not knowing what to do.

The teacher watched them one by one until she finally broke the silence.

— Come with me ladies — ordered the teacher.

The girls only limited themselves to seeing each other.

The teacher led them through the desolate corridors of the school. Regina was becoming more and more tense, it was just her first day and she had already gotten into trouble, her mother would kill her as soon as she got home.

They finally made it to the principal's office. The teacher knocked lightly on the door and entered. The teacher approached the headmistress.

The girls stood near the door not knowing what to do.

— Madame Graves — The teacher began — These four ladies were in MY office during class hours. I don't know what their intentions were but I assure you they are not good —

Madame Graves looked at them one by one. Regina only limited herself to biting her lower lip until she felt the metallic taste of her blood.

—Leave me alone with the ladies — said Madame Graves and the teacher left, leaving the girls alone.

The air in the room felt heavy. Regina could barely breathe properly. Madame Graves still didn't say anything, she just looked at them coldly. The seconds went on for hours until the headmistress finally spoke.

— Ladies... — The principal finally spoke — Can I know what were you doing in your teacher's office —

None wanted to speak. Regina knew perfectly well her reasons but not Freddie and Joanna's. They were probably looking to change a grade. Regina quickly dismissed that idea, it was barely two weeks into the new semester. Maybe they were looking for something? It was most likely.

— Is there no reason? — Questioned Madame Graves.

None of the girls spoke. Again they avoided the cold gaze of the headmistress.

— Okay — said Madame Graves — So you don't want to talk, I suppose you will be in detention — Madame Graves got up from her seat — An hour after class, during this week and the next, you will start from today. Are you ok with it?

Regina knew it was an inordinate punishment for what they had done, but she didn't want to raise her voice. Not even Freddie complained.

— Very good. I will accompany you for your stuff to your classroom and then we will go to the library. —

The headmistress escorted them to the classroom. Madame said something to the chemistry teacher before letting them pass.

Regina felt the gaze of the other girls on the back of her neck. She quickly gathered her things up, trying not to look anyone in the eye, and left.

Once everyone had their backpacks, the director led them to the library.

— Leave your backpacks outside — indicated the headmistress — Here you will stay for the next three hours. I will notify your parents of your punishment. You can read a little if you like. Well ... I’ll leave you —

Madame Graves was about to leave when she turned around.

— By the way, don't try anything, the librarian will be watching you — And she finally left.

The library had several long tables and at the back were all the bookshelves.

Freddie and Joanna sat at one of the tables, Brianna and Regina sat across from them.

Freddie would occasionally look at Regina with some resentment and she would look back at her.

It could be her first day but Regina already hated Freddie. It was her fault that they had been punished. Maybe it was partly her fault, she had gone to see what they were doing.

Freddie continued to look at Regina in disgust. She reminded her of those high school girls who bothered her so much but this time she wouldn't be quiet.

— Do you have any problem? — Regina questioned.

Freddie watched her and just wrinkled his nose in disgust.

— Do you want to stop that attitude? — Regina snapped

— What attitude? — Freddie put a hand on her chest as if she didn't know what Regina was talking about.

— That attitude — Regina pointed out — You look at me like I'm the one to blame —

— Well, yes you are, dear. If you hadn't gone spying on us, they wouldn't have punished us—

Regina closed her eyes and breathed heavily. This little girl was trying her patience.

— And who was the one who went to the teacher's office? —

Freddie just rolled his eyes.

— Besides, why did you go? — Regina questioned.

— It's none of your business — Freddie replied dismissively.

— Well now it is my business because they punished me because of you — Regina practically spat with poison.

Freddie avoided her gaze and clicked his tongue

— I went to look for something that they took from me, okay? — Freddie confessed with annoyance.

— And that you went to find what was so important —

— A pack of cigarettes, okay? And stop bothering with that — she crossed his arms over her chest and looked away.

Regina blinked a few times puzzled by Freddie's response. Of all the reasons she came to consider that was the least expected of her. They were 17 years old, where did she get a pack of cigarettes from? And why would she risk punishment for something so foolish? Also, if she had a box of cigars taken away, wouldn't they have suspended or even expelled her r? Unless she was lying and was looking for something else, and from the look Joanna gave Freddie she suspected that was the correct answer from her.

She preferred not to inquire further, she was already fed up with that matter. All she wanted was for this to end as soon as possible.

[dear-wormwoods]

may I ask for a style fanfic rec list? 🥺🥺🥺

I have a couple of requests for this and I’ve been thinking about how to respond, because to be honest, I very rarely read fic these days. And by ‘these days’ I mean like, since 2014. I always have things I intend to read, but then time goes by and I don’t get around to it. So nothing I’m going to rec is new and you’ve probably already read them fkjds.

Anyway, sorry to be predictable by just being like “read Hollycomb’s fics” but...

The Scenic Route - 116k words, should be rated E for the final two chapters (I literally have no idea why it’s rated T on AO3, it was definitely M when I first read it on ff.net years ago)

Summary: The boys embark on a six day road trip to California before separating for college. Cartman is a pain in the ass, Kenny has no future, Butters is in crisis, and Kyle doesn't know how he'll say goodbye to Stan.

Why you should read it: The yearning. This fic is written entirely in Kyle’s POV, and Holly does such a brilliant job of getting into his head and really capturing that feeling of already mourning a friendship/relationship before it’s even over and kind of intentionally setting the bridge on fire to make what is (seemingly) inevitable hurry along, as if that will make it hurt less (it doesn’t). The first six chapters, the actual road trip portion of the fic (where the T rating actually does apply), are where it is at its strongest, and Kyle’s gradual descent into panicky, angry desperation is painfully real. I can’t stress enough how in character everyone is, each retaining recognizable mannerisms and dynamics from canon while still clearly being grown people entering adulthood. There’s a reason this fic is THE Style fic. 

Leave the Pieces - 251k words, rated E (though that rating only represents a small portion of such a long fic)

Summary: Stan and Kyle meet as strangers in their mid-twenties, shocked to encounter someone else who can't remember the first ten years of his life. They form an instant connection, but only one person in South Park remembers them, and Kenny can't explain why they disappeared or why the rest of the town forgot them.

Why you should read it: It’s a lengthy epic with supernatural elements, a complicated plot that fits right into the show’s universe, and the kind of love that quite literally transcends time, space, and memory. I can’t explain it much further without giving away the plot, but this behemoth is gut wrenching and powerful. It is equal parts a story about Stan and Kyle finding each other as adults and falling in love despite not remembering who they are, or each other, and a deep exploration into Kenny’s character and his curse. Kenny is really the MVP of the story, despite it initially seeming like “just” a Style fic, and his relationship with Wendy is written beautifully and convincingly. One caveat, though: some parts of this fic... I’m not a fan of. I greatly dislike Cartman/Butters just as a concept, and there were times, particularly in the first half of the fic, where I almost quit reading because of their scenes. I also feel like this fic fell victim to fandom’s earlier tendency to mischaracterize Craig as borderline sociopathic (but in contrast, he’s absolutely perfect in Holly’s oneshot Other People’s Tupperware). However, I’m such a sucker for supernatural memory loss not being able to sever soul connections, and Stan, Kyle, Kenny, and Wendy’s respective journeys more than make up for my reluctance to stomach Cartman/Butters or other comparatively minor issues. And honestly, everything does fall into place as the plot unfolds, so all I can say is... if you hit certain scenes and think ‘wtf IS this??’, just stick it out, the payoff is worth it, especially if you’re looking for high quality Kenny content.

Amalgamation - 78k words, rated T (but should be rated M imo, because there are sex scenes, though they aren’t very explicit, just intimate)

Summary: In 1862, Kyle's family is forced to move from New York to a tiny mining settlement at the foot of Pike's Peak in Colorado. Kyle is sixteen years old and miserable until he meets Stan, a fellow transplant who has been in town for three years. Their feelings for each other are shadowed by the town's haunted history, and for Kyle the local legends begin to feel more like real nightmares.

Why you should read it: I know ‘1860′s gold mining settlement AU’ doesn’t sound very fascinating, but it is. This is another one that’s written in Kyle’s POV and again Holly does a wonderful job of expressing his emotional turmoil, the guilt and shame he feels, his self-righteousness, and the depth of his love for Stan. Everyone is as they would be if the clock was turned back 150 years, made different by the time period and the demands of their circumstances but still obviously recognizable. The old-timey atmosphere and world-building are so seamless and never feels unrelatable. There are also supernatural/ghost/mystery themes in this one and the fear is palpable.

From the Queen of England to the Hounds of Hell - 170k words, rated E, includes major character death (aside from Kenny)

Summary: Ten years after the execution of Terrance and Phillip, the war with Canada has not ended. Stan and most of Kyle's friends are planning to join the army after high school graduation, bound to be drafted anyway. Kyle doesn't believe in the war, but he's not willing to let Stan go without him.

Why you should read it: This is.... a perfect fic, and I don’t say that lightly. It is quite possibly the ONLY perfect fic I have ever read, in any fandom. I can’t actually describe all the ways in which it’s perfect without giving the plot details away, but, God, if you commit to reading just one of the long-ass fics I’m reccing on this list, make it this one. Please. It honestly makes me mad that this one never got the same attention as like, The Scenic Route, or ‘Night School’ did, because it so deserves to be up there. Only Holly could take the concept of the fucking movie and turn it into a completely devastating, bittersweet, epic romance. There is no caveat here, no ‘I loved it except for this and this’, just thorough, soul-crushing perfection. Just... Kyle. God, Kyle. I can’t elaborate, my heart isn’t up to the task. This fic will haunt me for the rest of my life.

The Ascent of Stan - 32k words, rated E, though it is like 95% domestic fluff

Summary: Stan sells his small pest control company and Kyle thinks they should use some of the money to go to Hawaii, where he proceeds to grill Stan about the mid-life crisis that Stan claims he's not having while their kids frolic nearby.

Why you should read it: This one is everything a domestic fic should be. It basically just chronicles the events of a week-long vacation to Hawaii that nearly-40 Stan and Kyle take with their two kids. This one is written fully in Stan’s POV and it works so well... he’s exactly the kind of dad that I imagine he would be, doing his best to provide for and protect his family’s little bubble and resolving to be better than his father while quietly fighting the lingering shadow of his alcoholism and cynicism. There’s no real conflict in this one, just 30,000 words of a very typical family vacation: not exactly blissful, irritating at times, but ultimately the foundation for perfect memories. 

Never Change - 115k words, rated E

Summary: Thirteen years after his high school girlfriend's pregnancy upended his life, Stan is still in South Park, working with his partner Bebe as a local cop. They're in the process of investigating a series of possibly connected murders when FBI agent Kyle Broflovski returns to town and informs his old friend Stan that this is his investigation now.

Why you should read it: This is equal parts a murder mystery and a romance. It features exactly the kind of Stan/Kyle situation I hate to think about - a decade-long estrangement of their own making that comes to an abrupt end due to extenuating circumstances. It hurts because of how likely it is to happen that way, and it works especially well in this fic because of Stan’s reluctance to embrace his own bisexuality until he’s nearly 30 and Kyle’s tendency to put up walls to protect himself. Also, Bebe features prominently in this fic, which is always a huge bonus.  

Bonus Oneshot Rec:

The Reformation of Fart Boy - 7k words, unrated but probably T, just barely

Summary: Five times South Park has brought Kyle to the brink of sanity and Stan has brought him back.

Why you should read it: I love thinking about the ways in which canon-typical nonsense continues to impact the characters in the long term on a serious psychological level. Kyle has suffered a lot in canon and it’s obvious even in the show that it is gradually changing him and wearing him down, so I really love this fic for focusing on his responses to some of the more traumatic moments, as seen through Stan’s eyes. 

I feel sort of guilty only reccing one author for right now, because there are other fics out there that I liked and am planning on revisiting, but this post is long enough as it is. Chances are you’ve already read some or all of these, but they’re my favorites. I reread all of them while making this list, and they still hit me hard after all these years. 

[satan-chillin]

Fair Game

(Chapter 1/2)

Summary: Sam and Dean encountered a completely different version of themselves. An AU of Episode S15E13 "Destiny's Child".

Pairings: Destiel & Samwena/Samwitch

Rating: T

Also available in Ao3

The heavy and ornate mahogany doors opened at exactly 12:30 in the evening and came in a couple dressed handsomely, their cheeks streaked with redness from one too many flutes of champagne from the evening celebration they came from.  

  “Remind me not to wear this outfit again,” the man muttered. He wasn’t one to normally voice his complaint, thinking he would sound whiny, but it seemed that the alcohol was loosening up his tongue. “I look ridiculous in purple. Like… Like Barney.”  

  The woman raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you seriously comparing yourself with a purple dinosaur?” Her sigh was fond. “You should have seen yourself in the mirror, dear.”

  “I mean, I did? While you were helping me with the pocket square.” He idly touched the handkerchief. “I don’t know. I thought it’ll be nice, but, er, I might have stood out too much earlier.”

  “And that’s a bad thing? To stand out on your own book signing event?” the woman snorted. “Honestly, you’re the only person I know who doesn’t want the spotlight even if he earned that right.”

  The man shrugged. “That's me.”

  “Aye. I know you too well.” The woman walked closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I know as well that you deserve everyone’s attention the most, you humble giant.”

  With their difference in height, she has to tiptoe to peck his cheek, though the man eagerly met her halfway to give her an eskimo kiss in return, making her giggle a little uncharacteristically. 

  It only served to make her endearing to him.   

  “Thank you, though, for helping me pick,” he said earnestly. He let his hands stay on her slim waist, nuzzling the top of her head affectionately. “Should I get used to this from now on?”

  “Well,” she began, patting his chest teasingly. “If you haven’t realized it yet that I’m gradually improving your wardrobe, then you’re not paying attention, dear.” She smirked at his mild indignation and pulled herself from his hold. “Although, if I have to choose,” she made a show of running her eyes from his head to toe, “My favorite will always be getting you out of your clothes.”

  The man went red from root to tips, much to the woman’s utter amusement. 

  “Come join me upstairs if you’re willing to let me do so tonight,” she said, flicking her long red hair over an exposed milky shoulder. She walked up the stairs, sashaying her hips, knowing full well that the man's eyes followed her and the sway of her lacy black dress that seemingly molded itself with her curves. 

  As the man stood there dreamily and thinking what a damn lucky man he was to have someone so beautiful not only on the outside but also on the inside, someone who understood all his quirks and accepted him for what he was, he couldn't help but finger the small velvet box he was keeping inside his pocket. 

  Tonight, he promised himself. He would ask the big question tonight. 

  He could have done it during tonight's event, but then again he wasn't really into big gestures. He was in his element in moments where it was quiet with just the two of them sharing a blanket of comfortable silence. 

  Well, springing out the question right before he was about to get sex was not the romantic scene he was aiming for either, but… anymore prolonging and he would butcher this one out.

  He knew her and been together with her for three years now, and yet he found his hands shaking and sweaty in nervousness. She loved him back, of that he was sure of, but what if she didn't want the same? Would she think that they were moving too fast? He didn't want her to think that he would limit her freedom and independence once they were legally bound together. 

  The man was roused out from his thoughts when a black mass of fur rubbed itself against his leg. He picked up the cat and scratched it behind the ear. 

  "Do you think your mom will say yes, Merlin?" the man asked anxiously. 

  Merlin merely purred in response at the attention it was getting, closing his eyes in bliss. The man humored him for a bit if only to delay a rejection he could possibly get. 

  Oh, god, I'm being a coward, he thought. An indecisive coward. 

  Merlin perked his head up and stared at the man. The cat seemed to agree with him, he thought gloomily. 

  The cat jumped back to the ground, sniffing the air and looking around. The man watched Merlin's odd movements before he broke into a run to the kitchen and out in the back. Puzzled at Merlin's sudden bolting, the man followed the cat sedately to the backyard. 

  "Merlin?" he called when he heard a loud and almost incessant yowl from the cat. Must have scented a prey, he thought. 

  And upon walking out to follow, what greeted him was…

  A line. 

  The man stared, stupefied. Line was putting it mildly. It was glowing in an orange hue, for god's sake! It was floating, he supposed, like a tear of some sort in the middle of—he didn't know, space, maybe? 

  "What the hell?"

  Merlin continued to yowl on the ground, encircling the line. If the man didn't know better, he'd say that the cat was excited at the discovery, like it was just handed a new toy. Merlin's pupils were round, illuminated by the reflection of the orange light. He looked up in wonder and awe. 

  It was unnatural, indescribable by words—and the man has plenty of those—yet his hand itched to reach out, to touch and see how it would feel. 

  Curiosity killed the cat, they said, though in this case, its victim was the man instead. 

  "No, Samuel, don't!"

  The last thing he heard was Rowena's warning that came a little too late. 

  ***

Dean woke with a pounding headache. 

  He groaned, sitting up from the cold hard floor and…

  Where in the world was he? 

  Dean looked around his surroundings wildly and noticed that not far from him was someone lying face down and—God, the guy wasn’t dead, was he? 

  He was saved from the trouble of checking for a pulse when the man twitched and shifted on his back, groaning aloud and blinking awake before shooting up in a sitting position and finally noticing Dean. 

  “You too, huh?” Dean said. 

  “What?” the man asked. “What do you mean by that? Where are we?”

  “My guess is as good as yours, man. I just woke up a minute earlier.”

  The man made a move to stand, straightening on his feet. He was tall, and Dean himself was tall. Dean respectfully didn’t take note of the atrocious purple suit and the hideous man-bun that got messed up. 

Just when Dean was having the impression that the man was posh with the getup and all, he approached Dean and stooped down to lend him a hand. Dean thanked him, patting away the dirt from his coat. 

  He got a better look of the area once he was standing and woah, the number of vintage cars he could see everywhere should be enough to trigger some kind of familiarity; it didn’t. They seemed to be in some kind of a large, rich man’s garage. 

  “Battery’s dead,” he heard the man mutter while tapping on his phone. 

  Dean checked his. “Mine too.” 

  His watch was ticking at 7:42 PM, and the last time he checked it had been somewhere around 11:30 PM. Dean couldn’t believe he was out cold for almost a day. Whatever tranq they administer to him, it must have been enough to knock out at least a baby elephant.

  “Are we kidnapped or something?” he asked aloud, mostly to himself. 

  The man ran his hand through his hair, his loose man-bun gone. “It’s what I think as well but the lack of bindings and the presence of a kidnapper suggest otherwise.”

  “Or this is some kind of Saw shit,” Dean suggested. At the man’s puzzled expression, Dean waved his hand. “Nothing. It’s a bad joke.”

  “Are you alright, at least? No injuries on you?” the man asked. 

  “Headache from waking up that’s ebbing away, thankfully,” Dean answered honestly. “Other than that, nothing that I know or can feel on me. You?” 

  “Mild headache. Nothing more,” the man said. He closed his eyes briefly. “Um, I know this is a weird situation we find ourselves in, but if we’re going to work together, might as well get to know each other’s names.” He extended out his hand. “I’m Sam.”

  “Dean.” Dean shook the hand. “Dean Winchester-Novak,” he said fully before he could hold himself back. Force of habit. 

  Sam frowned. “Winchester?” He smiled amiably. “Are you the Winchester one? Because my name is Sam Winchester.”

  “Seriously? Yeah, I’m the Winchester. What are we, some kind of distant relatives?”

  “Maybe? I don’t know. Lots of Winchesters in the States alone, but, yeah, that’s some coincidence.” 

  “I don’t know, man. It’s interesting to find out. Sucks it’s this way, though,” Dean said regretfully. He spotted a door at the far end of the garage. “Think that one’s locked?”

  Sam followed his line of sight, deep in thought. “Only one way to find out.”

  Apprehensively, they approached the door. Dean kept his eye open for any traps because you’d never know; better be prepared, right? There weren't any visible cameras that he could see at a glance so there was that. 

    Dean twisted the knob, half-expecting an explosion or poison spikes or whatever this possibly rigged doorknob could release. 

  Nothing came. 

  Sam peered at the long hallway ahead and gave an all-clear sign. Tentatively, they exited the garage and traversed the corridor whilst frequently looking behind their backs. It was eerily quiet and a bit dark, and it felt like they were actually the one trespassing in someone else’s property. It was ridiculous. 

  There was another long hallway when they turned at the bend, though this time there was a light at the far end of it. Cautiously, they approached the room, a little emboldened since they haven't encountered anyone or anything so far, and noticed that it was a kitchen with a man standing there, his back turned as he prepared coffee. 

  When the man turned around, Dean couldn't keep down his relief. "Cas," he said with a wide grin and rushed to meet him in a tight embrace. 

  Cas was taken aback, a deep frown etched on his face and was about to ask when Dean had beaten him to it. 

  "Cas, what's going on? Where are we? I woke up in the garage of this place with Sam here. Oh, yeah, this is Sam. Sam Winchester—can you believe it?" The words rushed out of Dean. "Sam, this is Castiel Novak. Cas for short. He's my husband."

  "I'm your what?"

  Sam genially extended a hand in which Cas shook dumbly. "Nice to meet you, Cas."

  Cas glanced confusedly between Sam and Dean, studying them carefully as if trying to figure them both, particularly the one they were wearing. "I don't understand. Is this what you call a prank?"

  "What? What you mean pra—"

  "Hey, Cas, you done there?" came a male voice from outside. "We're just—"

  Sam and Dean turned to the source of the voice and found two men standing there. 

  Two men who have their faces. 

  What the hell. 

  ***

  “This is like The Invasion of the Body Snatchers, isn’t it?” Cas heard the other Dean say. 

  “What part of the alternate universe you don’t understand?” Dean retorted. “You and the Sam here with you are our alternate versions.”

  “I think it’s like in the comic books,” Sam in the purple suit said. “For example, Peter Parker is the Spider-Man in his world but there’s another world where it’s his girlfriend Gwen Stacy who’s the Spider-Woman instead.” At the blank stare he got from the other three, he sheepishly added, “It’s a popular thing in our world. I used to be a fan when I was a kid—which isn’t the point, right.” He cleared his throat. “So. You said that you’re our counterparts, and you two are brothers?”

  “Yeah,” Sam said. “Aren’t you?”

  “We just met today, actually. I think Dean here is from another separate world that is not from where I came from.”

  "Alright, stop. This is going to be confusing. I am Dean, and my brother here is Sam. Other Sam, we're calling you Sammy. Other me, you're Squirrel."

  "Why am I called Squirrel?"

  "I didn't make the rules."

  "You just did."

  "Dean," Sam interrupted with a sigh. "Sorry. Is Deanno fine by you?"

  "That's much better."

  "Yeah, you look like a 'Deanno'." Dean snickered. 

  Sam leveled his brother a stare.

  "What's the deal with you two, anyway?" Deanno asked, ignoring Dean. He gestured around himself. "Like, is it your family's thing to kidnap your counterparts?"

  "What? No. No one's kidnapping anyone," Sam defended. “Look, like you, we honestly don’t know how you got here either. What’s the last thing you remember before waking up?”

  “I was driving home from an event,” Deanno recalled. “I might have stopped on the road. It was, uh—I thought I saw something.” 

  “Saw what?”

  “Wait,” Sammy cut in. “That thing you saw… It didn’t happen to be a line, right? Like a tear in space or something.”

  Deanno snapped his fingers. “Yes! That was it. Big orange line thingy!”

  Sam and Dean shared a look. 

  “It was a rift,” Cas spoke for the first time. “You two encountered rifts in space, portals to another world which is… here.”

  “What happened on our side then? Did it remain open?” Sammy asked Cas. 

  “I checked the garage. There are no rifts open there. It’s safe to assume both are closed,” Cas answered. 

  “That’s good.” Sammy sighed in relief. “I mean, my girlfriend’s probably worried to death after she saw me touching the rift, but at least she didn’t follow and possibly landed somewhere.” 

  “And my husband’s bound to be doing the same by now after I left a voicemail I was on my way home and did not arrive.” Deanno rubbed his face. “Fuck.”

  “Woah, wait, husband?” Dean reacted. 

  Deanno gestured at Cas. “Yeah, him.” 

  Dean whirled incredulously at Cas. “Hey, Cas is nobody’s husband!” 

  “Well, not him exactly, but my husband’s name is Castiel Novak. I suppose he’s my Cas’s counterpart then.” Deanno addressed Cas. “But are you really not my Cas? ‘Cause I have to say, you got his character from that adorably confused frown and the trenchcoat.”

  Cas didn’t know what to make of the wink sent his way. 

  “Can you not—he’s not your Cas, alright? For one thing, he’s a freaking angel.”

  “So? My husband is too! He’s a saint!” 

  “I think Dean means to say that I am a literal angel,” Cas put in. “Which I am. I am an angel of the Lord.”

  “Oh,” Deanno said. “My Cas is a theology professor. He’s very much human except in bed—”

  “Dude, TMI!” 

  Hm. It seemed that his alternate self has quite a prowess in copulation, Cas mused. Interesting. 

  Sammy looked like he was embarrassed to be acquainted with the other Dean while Sam wasn’t sure whether to cringe or laugh. Cas believed it was the latter given that Sam was hiding his sniggering behind his fist. 

  “Okay, enough of that,” Sam said, thankfully. “I think it’s safe to assume that you two are our non-hunter versions.”

  “Is that what you do? Hunting?” Sammy asked. “Like professional deer-hunters?”

  “Uh, no. Dean and I are hunters of the supernatural. This place is more or less our home and headquarters.” 

  “You hunt supernatural creatures like vampires and werewolves?”

  Sam nodded. He was thoughtful for a second. “You don’t… Have you ever encountered any supernatural in your world?”

  “No,” Sammy said, eyes wide in awe. “Your job—I thought that’s only something I’ll read in books or watch in films. It sounds exciting!” 

  “It’s dangerous,” Sam told him. “We also lost our family and some friends in our line of work.”

  “Oh.” Sammy’s face fell. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound insensitive. I’m sorry for your loss.” 

  “Thank you. It’s already quite some time now. Doesn’t mean it’s no longer painful though,” Sam said, smiling tightly. A somber mood fell on them. “How about you? Lawyer?”

  “Ah, no. I thought about continuing to law before and realized that if I did, I would have plenty of lives on my hands in that line of career. I didn’t think I could handle that kind of responsibility,” Sammy said wryly. “I took creative writing instead, and now I’m a book writer with a few books under my belt.” He chuckled shyly.

  “It’s not something I saw myself as, but I’m happy for you,” Sam said genuinely. 

  “What about you, Deanno, what do you do?” Dean asked.

  “I own a small business,” Deannos said vaguely. “I used to be a car mechanic.” 

  “What kind of business?”

  “The car manufacturing kind.”

  “That’s far from a small business,” Dean deadpanned. “We get it, you two are our rich selves. We can handle the bragging.” 

  “Are you kidding me?” Deanno snorted.  “Okay, so maybe we pride ourselves in being successful, but we work hard to get to it. The same way you apparently do as well, except you two put your lives on high risk every single time. Now, I don’t know how much hunters get paid for, but I think your jobs are nothing on us.” 

  Sam fell silent while Dean looked startled before catching himself and settling for appearing chastised instead. 

  “I guess you’re not so bad,” Dean muttered. He knocked on the table. “So what now?”

  “You got beer?” Deanno asked. 

  “We do.” 

  Cas watched the four of them file back to the kitchen, smiling a little as he followed them sedately. 

  The tension was finally diffused. Now, on to the solution to get the two home. 

***

Sammy almost forgot the small box in his pocket. 

  He pulled it out and opened it. The ring remained safely settled within. He pocketed it with a sigh. Sam and Dean and Cas were good people—like men from fiction but good people nonetheless. Sammy’s imaginative brain that thrived on fantasies for future story plots couldn’t help but drink in all the knowledge Sam shared with him about this world. It was amazing, the elements of it all, from the creatures that existed aside from the humans and to the magic and beings that governed this universe. 

  Okay, so God being their present enemy was concerning, but still. 

  He would have thought that he was dreaming, but a pinch on his arm said otherwise. It occurred to Sammy he was probably the first man to discover the truth of the theory on Multiverse. He was exactly living a comic book or a fictional storyline right now. It was a paradise for a writer like him!

  And yet… And yet he just wanted to go home to Merlin and to Rowena. 

  “Oh, wow,” Sam suddenly said. Sammy noticed him looking at his pocket. 

  “It’s, um... I was actually planning to ask the big question before I arrived here,” Sammy told him. He sat comfortably in his borrowed clothes (the choices were flannels of varying colors, not that he minded) across Sam who poured two cups of coffee, one for each of them. “Thank you. I’m not really a heavy drinker. I’m a lightweight.”

  “Somehow, I can see that,” Sam said with a grin. “I drink moderately unlike Dean. He’s not hearing me whenever I say we’re not getting any younger.” 

  Sammy chuckled. He was an only child himself, but he thought that if he had an older brother he would either be like Deanno or Dean. There would be no in-between.  

  “How long have you been together?” Sam asked. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

  “Three years,” Sammy said fondly. “We’re already living together and have a cat.” He glanced down on his drink. "I miss them, but to be honest, I don't know how to pop the question when I come back."

  "I don't think there's a formula on how," Sam offered sympathetically. "It's not easy, but if you already made up your mind to ask, then it should come to you naturally."

  "Thank you," Sammy replied sincerely. "If my Dad is still around, I would've asked him for advice. Bobby was helpful with this kind of thing." 

  Sam perked up in surprise. "Your Dad is Bobby Singer?" 

  "Pretty much. My real Dad, John, died of a heart attack when I was six months old. Bobby was a family friend and raised me with his wife, Karen, and my mother, Mary. It sounded weird but they made it work between themselves," Sammy told him. “Bobby was the one who got me into books, mostly sci-fi, fantasy, and mythology. That might have influenced me into being a writer as well.”

  “Bobby, huh? We had a Bobby Singer too, and like yours, he was our surrogate dad. He died eight years ago, and John five years before him,” Sam shared. “Mom’s case was a bit complicated. She died when I was six months old and got resurrected four years ago and died again last year.” Sam’s mouth twitched into a smile. “I told you, it’s complicated.” 

  “I shouldn’t be surprised by now,” Sammy murmured. “I know I’m only saying this because I don’t live here, but the writer side of me actually finds this world fascinating already based on what you told me so far. It’s like there’s an itch in me to explore this world.” 

  “I understand,” Sam said. “It’s not the safest place, but I love it. This is our world, and it has seen a lot of close calls in the last few years, but this is home, you know? Dean and I don’t see ourselves wanting to replace it with a better one, a more normal one. It’s funny because I used to think it hated us with everything life had thrown us so far. Then you find out that it’s not the world or life, but it’s God himself.” 

  Sammy nodded solemnly. “And I can’t believe I’m saying this but I don’t doubt that you’ll give God hell.” Sam's expression lightened. “I’m lucky to lead a different life because if I’m in your shoes, I don’t think I can have the same lifestyle as you do. Frankly, the brave one between my girlfriend and me is her. She’s more decisive and confident, and she’s the kind of independent woman who learns and moves on easily from her mistakes. It’s the main reason why I’m uncertain to ask her to marry me. What if she doesn’t want to be tied down? Or, say that it’s fine by her, but is it okay if it’s with me? I’m not like her or you, Sam. I honestly still think she could have done better.”

  “But you’ll never know if you don’t ask her,” Sam reasoned. “You can’t let your insecurity eat you from within. It sounds to me that you two are fine in terms of communication. Maybe you can open this up to her as well.”

  Sam, who was fully aware that he couldn’t hold a decent length of relationship with a woman without his life as a hunter hindering it, couldn’t believe that he was hearing himself giving advice in romance. To another version of himself even. Strange times. 

  “Is it Jessica?” Sam decided to ask; he was curious, sue him. “It’s ages ago since I’ve been in a committed relationship myself, but Jessica is the last woman I saw myself having a future with.”

  Sammy frowned. “It’s not her, though I recall knowing a Jessica back in college.” He reached for his wallet to show a picture of Rowena. “Actually, her name is—”

  The bunker’s siren suddenly blared, and the kitchen was illuminated by the warning red lights that darkened the room and lit the hallways. 

  “What’s going on?” Sammy asked when he stood abruptly with Sam. 

  “It’s the bunker’s alarm,” Sam told him, pulling out a gun from his waist. “Stay close to me. I think we got an intruder.”    

***

Deanno whistled at the impala. “This is your ride? Sweet.”

  “That’s my Baby.” Dean stood straighter in pride. “Been taking care of her for as long as I remember, even before Dad passed her down to me.”

  “Inherited cars are often the most taken care of and loved,” Deanno said factually. “Well, I’ll be damned. I don’t think I’ve seen this kind of model back home. I should propose this.” 

  “What kind do you drive then?”

  “A ‘78 Lincoln,” Deanno said, much to Dean’s utter distaste. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. My husband chose it.”

  “That’s equivalent to Cas’s pimpmobile.”

  Deanno laughed. “Pimpmobile is the endearment we have for it, alright. What can I say? It’s reliable. And at least it ain’t a Fiat.”

  Dean was inclined to agree with the last one. He wouldn’t be caught with a ten-foot pole with that vehicle. 

  “Everything in here belongs to you, your brother, and Cas then?” Deanno gestured at the other cars. 

  “They’re all here when we inherited the place,” Dean told him. “We use them as spares.” 

  “And you call me rich.”

  “You’re the one with a large business.”

  “We expanded just recently,” Deanno allowed. “But we’re not there with the big players yet.”  

  Dean grunted. Business wasn’t a forte of his, though that was largely because he never bothered to find out. Who knows? 

  Deanno was fine, Dean supposed; a little uncharacteristic for Dean to consider him another self but then again their circumstances were vastly different too. 

  On their way back inside, Deanno told him that he was raised by Mary after John died in a car accident. Mary was a handy woman who learned the rudimentary of car mechanics after John passed and left the startup company he had invested in. It had been a rocky start for both the family and the business, but with some help from friends like Bobby and his wife, Jody, they managed to make it into a stable business. 

  Deanno was put in college, initially for a degree in mechanical engineering until he had thought long and hard and went for business administration with a major in marketing instead. He said that it was the best decision he made since that was also how he met Cas after a series of girlfriends and random hookups.

  “Right,” Dean said flatly. “Your husband.”

  “I don’t get why it’s such a big deal to you, Dean,” Deanno said seriously. “This is not homophobia, is it?”

  “Of course not,” Dean replied shortly. No, it wasn’t that at all. 

  “Then what is it?” 

  He was spared the chance to answer when Jack walked in the war room, staring between the two Deans that he was seeing. Cas was close behind him, nodding at them. 

  “Hello,” Jack greeted them indifferently. 

  “I explained to Jack the situation,” Cas said. “He wanted to help but Billie specifically told him not to use his powers.” 

  “But we can still look for an alternative to bring you and the other Sam to your respective worlds,” Jack said. “Although it might take some time.”

  “Not like we have a choice, right?” Deanno smiled wryly. “Don’t sweat yourself, kid.”

  “I’ll be talking to Billie for the next step,” Jack told them, excusing himself. “Later.”

  “I’ll come with Jack,” Cas said. “If you need me, simply knock on Jack’s door.” 

  "Sure, Cas," Deanno replied on behalf of Dean. He mock-saluted, grinning from ear to ear as he watched Jack and Cas go. "We'll be here too if you need anything," he hollered after them. 

  "Can you stop doing that?"

  "Doing what?" Deanno asked innocently. 

  "That." At Deanno's straight face and the raised eyebrow, Dean elaborated, "The flirting."

  Deanno snorted. "C'mon. All in good fun."

  "You have a husband."

  "And I'm flirting with someone who's technically him but an actual angel." Deanno paused to consider for a moment. "Wait. Is that why?" A smirk formed on his lips. "You're jealous."

  "I most certainly am not," Dean said a little too quickly. 

  "See, that's the thing. You won't be doing that if you already bagged him," Deanno pointed out pityingly. 

  "Alright. That's it. No more of this topic."

  "Eh. Fine by me," Deanno allowed easily. "So who's Jack?"

  "It's a long story."

  "You can summarize," he suggested. 

  Dean sighed tersely. He should get this out of the way. "He's Lucifer's son biologically. Cas is the Dad he recognizes," he said gruffly. "He's half-human and half-archangel, and he doesn't have a soul right now."

  "Oh."

  "Yep. That's our lives."

  "Yeah. Sorry man, I won't be touching that subject too much," Deanno muttered. "I just thought the kid is yours and Cas's."

  "Cas's, not mine," Dean reminded him tersely. 

  "No, like, Jack was from both you and him."

  "What?" Dean exclaimed once he understood what Deanno was implying. "Where in the world are you getting these ideas?"

  "Hey, now. You're the one who said he's an angel."

  Dean wanted to bleach his mind when it began forming a certain image. "Jesus Christ. Cas is a guy! And he's wearing a male vessel!"

  "How about angel magic?"

  "Angel mag—" At this point, Dean believed that Deanno was sent to make his day even more difficult. "Okay. If that is even friggin’ possible, Cas and I are not together that way.”

  “Why not, Dean?”

  “He’s my best friend.”

  “Weak argument. My Cas is also my best friend. What’s your better excuse?”

  “How about: this is a different world, with me living a different life with different circumstances,” Dean said a matter-of-factly. “I am not you, Deanno. I am not some kind of business man with a college degree and a peaceful married life where the most exciting thing that happened to him is accidentally jumping in a portal to another world.”

  A small empathetic smile was the last thing Dean expected to get. “And doesn’t that tell you something that despite the completely different lives we have, the one thing we have in common is Cas?”

  Deanno was right, Dean was aware, and because Deanno was right and his statement was forcing Dean to reexamine things that he didn’t want to in the middle of their crisis right now, Dean was irritated and slowly but surely coming close to being mad. 

  Fortunately for Dean, he was, once again, saved by the bell. Literally. Or saved by the bunker’s alarm, to be exact. 

  Red lights fell down in the war room in an instant, alerting both of them. Amidst the siren, there were scuffling noises against metal. 

  “Dean, what’s that?” Deanno asked cautiously. Dean wasn’t sure if he was asking about the alarm or the sound along with it.  

  “Shit. Intruder.” Dean reloaded his pistol. He reached for another one and tossed it to Deanno. “Take that. We’re gonna need it.” He gestured for Deanno to stay close. 

  “I hope not,” he heard Deanno whisper. 

“And I hope that we won’t need anything stronger than a gun.” 

  Dean crept nearby the stairs leading up to the entrance. From his position, he could see no sign of forced entry. He peered upstairs for any movement. Nothing. 

  Dean was on an even higher alert, the alarm ringing incessantly in his ears. “Let’s go get the others. Something’s wro—”

  A huge black mass collided against Dean, sending him skidding across the floor and crashing him against a marble pillar. 

  “Dean!” 

  Deanno fired three shots at the… thing that tackled Dean down. It whirled at him, its attention was on him in an instant, growling and ready to pounce.  

  It was a fucking black panther. 

  “Take him down, Merlin,” commanded a voice.

  Deanno stood frozen at the huge animal lunging towards him. Its weight slammed him down on the floor where his head smacked loudly he swore he saw dark spots on his vision. Deanno fought back against the unconsciousness and was met face-to-face with sharp rows of teeth glistening with saliva and predatory golden eyes that considered Deanno as the prey.

  “G-Good kitty,” Deanno attempted. The panther snarled, its breath hot on his face. He decided to shut up instead. 

  “Where is he?” came above the same voice from before. 

  Under the red light, Deanno realized that it was a woman in a black dress. Purple lights danced around her hands, poised to attack. 

  “I won’t ask again, where is Sam Winchester?” said the woman furiously. 

  “Sam?” Deanno clarified. “You know Sam?”

  A loud piercing sound rang within the bunker, so deafening that it broke the lightbulbs and the nearby glasses. It was enough to bring the woman on her knees before she snapped her head upwards, her ears bleeding, and sent a spike of purple lightning to someone above. 

  Deanno covered his head when plasters and debris fell on him. To his amazement, though, nothing hit him and the weight on his chest lessened. 

  “Don’t touch him,” warned a different voice, a much familiar one.  

  Deanno blinked. “Cas?”

  “Dean.” Cas—his Cas, Deanno was a hundred percent sure—crouched down to check on him. “Are you alright?”

  “I am, but we’ll talk later—look out!”

  The warning seemed to be unnecessary when the purple lightning from the woman hit Cas on his back and he didn’t flinch one bit. 

  “What are you?” the woman hissed. The black panther retreated to her side, snarling ferociously at them. 

  Cas’s answer was a thin, pointed blade that appeared on his hand in a blink. A flicker of recognition flashed on the woman’s face. 

  “Impossible,” she growled. 

  “If that’s what you think,” Cas shot back evenly. 

  There was a large shadow that loomed above them, forming into the shape of a pair of huge wings that encompassed the vicinity. 

  “Stop!” 

  Jack, the kid from earlier, emerged from another part of the room with eyes lit brightly in gold. Cas turned to him with wariness but more so his fascination with the newcomer and the realization as to what Jack was.

  There were hurried footsteps that followed, and Deanno didn’t have to look to know who arrived. With the present amount of people, it was bound to be a shitfest. 

  “Rowena?!”

  The woman abruptly stopped, eyes darting past Cas and to the two men who came in. “Sam?” she whispered before confusedly glancing between the two Sam Winchesters. “Who is this fake?” she demanded. 

  The fighting had thankfully stopped, but another set of explanations was clearly needed. Again.

  Deanno groaned from the ground. He wished he was as lucky as Dean to be unconscious for all of these.

[betweentheinkk-reviews]

Call Down The Hawk- Maggie Stiefvater

Rating: 4/5

Genre: Fantasy, Young Adult fiction

Summary:

Call Down The Hawk is the first book in The Dreamer Trilogy, a spin-off of The Raven Cycle. Taking place in a world where people can pull things out of their dreams but must live in secret, CDTH follows the stories of the Dreamers, their dreams and the people who have to live with them. Following The Raven Cycle’s resident bad-boy Ronan Lynch, a dreamer himself; his brother Declan, a professional liar; Jordan Hennessey, an art forger with a mysterious existence, and Carmen Farooq-Lane, a woman hired to kill dreamers in an attempt to save the world. Taking us back to Stiefvater’s fantastical Henrietta, Call Down the Hawk continues where the Raven Cycle left off and brings with it all of its predecessor’s beautiful prose, mesmerizing world-building and the complex characters that pull it all together.

Thoughts:

Maggie my love, my queen has done it again.

I’m not much of a fan of authors extending the story passed their ending because in a lot of cases there isn’t much of a need for that. But for this series, I think it is not only completely justified but entirely necessary. Ronan was always the most mysterious part of the Raven Cycle, both to the audience and even to himself, with only two books in the series that actually included chapters by his point of view and the fact that so much of what he is and his family history was still left unanswered by the end of the series, a Ronan centered spin-off seemed only inevitable. 

With a series based-around people who can pull things out of their dreams you can expect CDTH to be a lot more out of this world than TRC and it definitely is. This series, although still keeping a lot of the atmosphere of the first series, is slowly taking TRC’s setting of magical realism and adding a lot more extreme elements of complete fantasy. It’s not a completely strange shift given TRC set the foundation for anything being possible in Maggie’s batshit world. It’s hard to imagine that at one point sentient forests were hard to believe now that we have dreamers, children with goat legs, shapeless monsters and people who can see the future dropped onto our lap like it’s no big deal. 

But world-building put aside, if there’s one thing that really makes Stiefvater’s writing shine, it’s the incredibly well-written and complex characters so let’s get into that:

First of all: Declan, Declan, DECLAN. Ok so if you had told me while I was still reading The Raven Boys that Declan would at any point be my favorite character I would have laughed in your face. Yet here we are. Even after all the strides TRC made to explain Declan’s actions and motivations to us, even after his short story, I could never find myself sympathizing with him and I didn’t think this book would change anything. Yet here we freaking are. This book really dives into all the layers that make up Declan, he is complex and hurt and so incredibly repressed but puts himself through that pain over and over again in an attempt to protect himself and his brothers. It was fascinating to read about and understand this carefully constructed facade Declan had made for himself and how it increasingly takes its toll on him. And even more fascinating to see this act fall away and let us finally see who he is capable of being when he isn’t so determined to be “boring”. His relationship with his younger brother Mathew is adorable and really what sold me on him, Declan mentions taking his role as “substitute parent” very seriously regarding Mathew and he definitely does, his absolute love for him shines throughout every chapter and every time anything goes wrong he’s always the first person Declan thinks of. It was also interesting to see his views on the boys’ father, Nial Lynch. Anyone who has kept up with the series this long knows Declan isn’t his dad’s biggest fan but I thought it was a really interesting contrast to go from Ronan’s romanticized view of him in The Dream Thieves and all the love it radiated, to Declan’s sheer hatred and unresolved anger. It was also really funny to watch him start cursing his dad every time anything went wrong because, you know, he was a jerk so why not.

Ronan has had my heart since the Dream Thieves and this book proves he has no intention of giving it back. It was so wonderful to see how far he has come and how much he has changed since the very first TRC book and that is mainly shown through the way he handles emotions. TRC Ronan converted all uncomfortable emotions into anger because that was the only way he knew how to cope, CDTH Ronan is a Ronan that allows himself to need, to love, to ask for help and, best of all, to cry when he needs to. I really liked how his loneliness was really touched on in this book, not just loneliness as a result of all his friends leaving him, but an overall loneliness from so long being the only one like him.

Ronan and Adam’s relationship was not at all what I expected it to be. These are two boys who have spent so much of their lives repressing their emotions so I didn’t expect them to be mushy and lovey right off the bat, boy was I wrong. Watching them so openly and vulnerably love each other was amazing and a culmination of both of their character development. But, although it was so sweet to see, I kind of wish we had gotten to see a bit of how they got to that point. When we left them at the end of the Raven King they had only just started to consider the possibility of a relationship and I kind of hoped to see the transition from friends to partners and how they learned to open themselves up to each other emotionally, instead, CDTH skips all that and takes us to a point in their relationship where they have already said their I love yous and are completely comfortable with it. On one hand, I love the intimacy on the other I wish we got to see how they reached that point in the first place, I also really wanted to get to see how they broke the news of their relationship to those closest to them, the only one whose reaction we really got to see was Gansey’s. Nonetheless, the boys’ love for each other was one of the highlights of the book for me and all Adam scenes (however few) were a gift.

I kept trying to figure out a way to talk about Jordan and Hennessey’s relationship without spoiling anything and I couldn’t really come up with anything so I’m just going to say it was so interesting and I loved it, it was especially interesting to see these girls who should be exactly the same but aren’t and how Jordan developed into her own person. Not to mention I just plain loved Jordan, she is so badass but soft and caring and funny as heck. As for Hennessey, she is, in a lot of ways, basically a female version of Ronan, except a Ronan who is still volatile and self-destructive, so it was great to see Ronan take up the sort of mentor role with her that he himself never got. 

Another new character was Carmen Farooq-Lane. And, honestly, I thought her presence took up a lot more pages than it should have. Did we need to know about the inner workings of the moderators? Sure. But did we need several chapters describing her dealing with all of (name-of-kid-that-I-already-forgot-because-he-was-unnecessary)’s pet peeves? Absolutely not. 

Finally, my last bit of commentary for this atrociously long review is that nothing really happened? Ok, I need to rephrase that, things did happen but there was no clear plot or even an actual climax. The plot bit I shouldn’t be too surprised by because the entirety of TRC was very, very character-driven and that seems to be the case here too but even with that in mind, I felt like this book was just a series of events just sort of spontaneously happening and characters being introduced with no real goal or direction that felt like they would be leading up to something but then the climax at the end is only brought up in the last couple of pages and is settled, underwhelmingly, in only a few more. Just like I said in my Wayward Son review, I understand the need for a book to set things up for the rest of the series but I don’t think that should mean the individual book should be missing anything from it.

Tl dr: Although the climax and pacing of the book left me disappointed, overall CDTH was a wholeheartedly enjoyable book filled with well-written characters, beautiful prose and encapsulating world-building that has left me more than excited for the rest of the Dreamer Trilogy. 

[mediaeval-muse]

Book Review

Warbreaker. By Brandon Sanderson. New York: Tor, 2009.

Rating: 3.5/5 stars

Genre: fantasy

Part of a Series? Yes, Warbreaker #1

Summary:  Warbreaker is the story of two sisters, who happen to be princesses, the God King one of them has to marry, the lesser god who doesn't like his job, and the immortal who's still trying to undo the mistakes he made hundreds of years ago. Their world is one in which those who die in glory return as gods to live confined to a pantheon in Hallandren's capital city and where a power known as BioChromatic magic is based on an essence known as breath that can only be collected one unit at a time from individual people. By using breath and drawing upon the color in everyday objects, all manner of miracles and mischief can be accomplished. It will take considerable quantities of each to resolve all the challenges facing Vivenna and Siri, princesses of Idris; Susebron the God King; Lightsong, reluctant god of bravery, and mysterious Vasher, the Warbreaker.

***Full review under the cut.***

Overview: I’ll come clean here... despite Sanderson being a pillar in the fantasy genre, I haven’t read one of his books until now. A friend, who is a big Sanderson fan, suggested I start with Warbreaker, so my review is going to be based on no other knowledge of Sanderson’s work. Overall, I enjoyed this book more than I thought I would; Sanderson has a talent for creating complex worlds and an imagination which makes his setting memorable. I also think there were a lot of good ideas built into the structure of the narrative, as well as infused in the character archetypes. The main reason why I didn’t give this book a higher rating, however, is personal preference: I don’t think the main action of the novel kicked off soon enough, and I personally didn’t feel invested in the war plot or the personal arcs of some of the characters. That being said, I do look forward to checking out more of Sanderson’s work. There was enough in this book to intrigue me, and though I didn’t love everything about Warbreaker, I can definitely see why Sanderson’s books are so beloved by fans.

Writing: Sanderson’s prose is fairly straightforward. It doesn’t contain a lot of rhetorical flourishes or figural language, but it doesn’t leave the reader in the lurch, either. I never had a difficult time picturing the world Sanderson creates or wondering what characters were thinking or feeling - everything was described well, and I never had to go back and read something multiple times in order to understand it. In that sense, Sanderson’s prose is simple, yet effective. It’s easy to get through, which helps the story move quicker.

There were a couple of info dumps (the two I can think of off the top of my head include the scene when Siri learns of Hallandran history from a storyteller and the scene where Vivenna learns about the theories of Awakening), but other than that, I think most of the worldbuilding was shown well through descriptions of the scenery, the actions of the characters, etc. I really did have the experience of being immersed in the world, and I think Sanderson knows how to craft a complex setting without overwhelming his readers with pages and pages of exposition.

Plot: The plot of this novel follows four main “threads,” centered on four prominent characters: 1. Siri, the youngest daughter of the king of Idris, who is sent to the kingdom (?) of Hallandren to marry their God King as part of a peace treaty; 2. Vivenna, Siri’s older sister, who was supposed to be sent to the God King, but was held back because of favoritism. She follows her sister in part to rescue her and also to prevent war between her kingdom and Hallandren; 3. Lightsong, one of the gods in Hallandren’s pantheon, who finds himself reluctantly drawn into the politics between the gods; 4. Vasher, a mysterious figure who wields a sentient sword named Nightblood.

Each of these “threads” were bound by the looming threat of war, but I personally didn’t find the war aspect suspenseful, in part because 3 of the 4 characters were “upper class” (and thus, war would impact them differently), and partly because we don’t spend much time with Idrians, who have the most to lose. I also think that the main action of each of these threads didn’t really take off until halfway through the book, and while I appreciate a slow pace to become familiar with the worldbuilding, I think the plot could have moved a bit quicker.

In terms of the individual threads, each had their ups and downs. I first found Siri’s storyline to be a little icky - she’s only 17, yet much of her plot involves discussions of sex and fertility. On the one hand, I get it - she’s sent to the God King as a bride, and her job is to produce an heir. On the other hand, I felt uncomfortable when reading about how often she was naked and how everyone calls her “vessel” rather than something proper, like “my queen.” I didn’t find her story particularly interesting until she finally begins to interact with the God King; for the first couple hundred pages, most of her time is spent getting used to Hallandren and palace life while her husband ignores her. Only when the God King begins to form a relationship with her did I feel invested, in part because Siri finally had a meaningful connection with another person, and thus personal stakes in the war.

Vivenna’s plot seemed interesting on the surface, but I ultimately found her to be too passive for my liking. Vivenna spends most of her time inciting then stifling a rebellion amongst her people, many of whom live as second-class citizens in Hallandren’s capital. It seems like that would be an active role for her, but most of the time, she’s acting under orders/guidance from other characters around her. I personally didn’t care for scene after scene of her meeting with people to convince them to do something, or scenes of her failing and being helpless. She often had to rely on male characters to get around, and while I don’t think she had to be perfect at everything, I do think she could have made use of her extensive training to be a bit more active. I did like, however, that her plot challenged a lot of her biases and supposed values of her religious teachings, shedding light on how we can’t judge people who are living in desperate conditions.

Lightsong’s plot started slow but picked up steam. As a god who is not convinced that his divinity is earned, he copes by indulging in a decadent lifestyle and putting up a jovial façade. At first, he tries to stay out of the debates about war, but once he’s dragged into the politics of the pantheon’s court, things get a little more interesting. I liked the moments when his story was less about war and more about discovering who he was before he became a god. They felt a little more personal, whereas the war didn’t seem to threaten his well being one way or the other.

Vasher’s POV chapters are less frequent, and when they appear, he’s doing something sneaky for reasons we don’t understand until some 2/3 through the novel. While I found his interactions with Nighblood amusing, I was frustrated by the lack of a clear motivation until the point where we learn what he’s up to. After that, I found him more fun to watch.

Characters: There are a lot of characters in this book, so I’m going to cover the main ones and a couple prominent supporting roles. Overall, I can say that each character archetype was interesting, and I often liked the idea of a character on its own as opposed to how the archetype was used in the narrative.

Siri is an impulsive, rebellious princess who has trouble respecting authority. While I’ve seen this archetype before, I think Sanderson avoided the “not like other girls” trope and instead wrote Siri as one who uses her impulses against the authorities that are restricting her. I was actually pleasantly surprised that Siri went from a fish out of water (because she doesn’t have the training her sister has about Hallandren society) to someone who is better equipped to spearhead a resistance within the God King’s own palace, all because resistance requires the guts to take risks and stand up to authority. In that sense, I liked her story a lot.

The God King, her husband, was also likeable, in part because he seemed to genuinely want to be a good ruler. I admired his affection for Siri, as well as his desire to use his power for good.

Vivenna, on the other hand, seemed like a good character at first, but I quickly started to dislike her. All her life, she was raised to be the God King’s bride, so she has extensive training and education. She’s also poised and confident, up until she is out of her element and has to find a way to operate on the streets of T’Telir. I thought Vivenna would use her training in a more meaningful way; knowing about Hallandren so thoroughly, I thought she would do more to apply that knowledge when concocting a plot to save her sister. Instead, Vivenna always seemed to be passive, letting the people around her make decisions and tell her what to do. She also doesn’t seem that interested in saving her sister after some time, despite being protective of Siri when they were younger. As an older sister myself, I found the easy abandonment of her sibling a little hard to believe, and I wish the desire to save her family was more of a driving force than Vivenna’s sense of duty to her people. While she does manage to do things on her own towards the end, I also found that to be undercut by her deference to Vasher. While it might be realistic to let characters with more skill/experience take care of stuff, it made me wonder why we were following Vivenna at all (in other words, why is Vivenna a main character and not Vasher, if all Vivenna is going to do is get in the way?). I also found Vivenna to be a little stuck-up and judgmental, which, granted, she learns to overcome, but for the majority of the book, she just seemed holier-than-thou, and I didn’t find her fun to watch.

Within Vivenna’s chapters (or sections), we see a number of side characters, the most prominent being the band of mercenaries that help her meet with influential people. At first, I liked these mercenaries; Denth seemed to be a good friend, while Jewels challenged Vivenna’s assumptions about Hallandrens in a way I found productive and enlightening. In all, it seemed like these characters were written in a way that broke stereotypes, and I was wishing they could have formed a little found family. However, after the twist, I didn’t quite like how the mercenaries were handled. They seemed to disappear from view, and we only heard of their actions by word of mouth (so everything they did seemed to happen “off screen,” then relayed by another character later). Because of that, I didn’t ultimately feel like they were much of a threat. I did like that their beef with Vasher was seeded early, so that when they finally come into contact, it felt like we were getting a payoff.

Lightsong is full of charisma, so even though his plot was slow, I enjoyed following him. He has some nice banter with Blushweaver (another goddess in the pantheon) and his high priest, Llarimar. I particularly found his relationship with Llarimar rather sweet, and I liked that Lightsong was curious about his past life without letting it distract from the threat at hand. The end of his arc felt a little unfair, as did Blushweaver’s - I was hoping he would get to do a little more.

But speaking of Blushweaver, I found her to be complicated. I liked that she seemed to genuinely care about whether or not Hallandren went to war, and wasn’t just playing a power game for power’s sake. However, I hated how she was written as a sexpot, using her body to distract (or try to distract) the other gods and to get what she wanted. I have no problem with a female character being sexual, but I do hate female characters who use sexuality as a manipulative tool. It’s just a tired trope, and I don’t enjoy it. Also, can we talk about how she calls Siri a slut at one point?

Vasher at first didn’t seem that interesting to me until we learn of his true motivations. After that, I enjoyed his character archetype immensely. He seems like a gruff badass at first, which I am also tired of reading about, but after a while, he’s shown to be something of a softy with terrible interpersonal skills. I probably enjoyed his conversations with Nighblood the most. Nightblood jokes and pouts and talks about killing in an almost childlike way, which was quite amusing. I wish we had gotten more of those interactions.

Other: The thing I appreciated most about this book was the worldbuilding. Sanderson creates a world that feels unique - instead being set in the gritty faux-Middle Ages where everything is violent and dirty, the narrative takes place in Hallandren, a kingdom full of joy and color. I particularly liked how color was important not just to Hallandren culture, but to the magic system. In Sanderson’s world, everyone has a life force or aura called “Breath” or “BioChroma,” which can be used in a variety of ways. BioChroma allow users to enchant objects (so to speak) or sustain life, and I liked that possessing and using BioChroma affected things like sound and color. It was a refreshing change from the dull worlds of grimdark fantasy.

I also liked the tension between the polytheistic religion of T’Telir and the monotheistic religion of Idris. Hallandrens worship “gods” that they can see and speak to, whereas Idrians worship a single god who is unseen. It posed some interesting theological debates, as well as a subtle, yet critical, examination of things like the hypocrisy of priests, the superiority complex of conservatives, etc.

Overall, I did enjoy this book, even if there were things that I wish were different. I hear there is supposed to be a sequel coming out at some point, and when it is out, I will pick it up.