#the art is all hers i just stuck it on coat dude

[tashacee]

Legend says if you say @breannasfluff's name three times in a mirror she appears and tells you about Ravioli

[pod-together]

Pod-Together Day 4 Reveals 2024

Strawberry-Coated (Hannibal (TV)) written by Artemiaz, performed by Dr_Fumbles_McStupid Summary: At last, the monster turned its head. Cunning had departed from mercurial eyes. There was no pride in that sharp face; no wicked smile hidden at the corner of an insatiable mouth. Right now, Hannibal Lecter was just a man. “Will… don’t do this.” After five sweet years of domestic bliss, there’s only one thing that could sour the atmosphere between Will and Hannibal: the anniversary of Abigail Hobbs’ death.

Gifts Are Given (Not Taken) (Original Work) written by Hagar, performed by DuskDragon39 Summary: It is the tradition dictated by King Tharus, founder of the Kingdon of Artium, that his heirs renew his treaty with the dragon Kess'ar before they ascend to the throne. Unfortunately for them, Kess'ar also retains his right to not renew the treaty - and the dragon does not suffer fools kindly.

holding on where i am able (RWBY) written by hopelessgemini, performed by MistbornHero Summary: it is a quiet night in vacuo, and ruby rose can't sleep.

Death's Champions (The Sandman (TV 2022)) written by Lalaith_Quetzalli, performed by godoflaundrybaskets Summary: It is said that there can be no true life without death. Likewise, it is known that without one of the Endless, reality will eventually crumble. When the Magus and his Order of Ancient Mysteries prove smarter and stronger than expected, and succeed in summoning and capturing Death, something must be done in order to rescue her. What kind of individuals can be expected to undertake such a mission?

Brownstone Ghosts [text, audio] (Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston) written by Mansikka, performed by ToughPaperRound Summary: It's time for Henry to share some secrets with Alex. Past time, actually; if only he'd figured out a way to explain before those secrets all but introduced themselves. "Alex," Henry says, clutching a bottle of whiskey for support while giving him a nervous smile. "How do you feel about... ghosts?"

Perfect Days (The Furious Pain of Living) (Batman - All Media Types, Green Lantern - All Media Types, DCU) written by Mbira, performed by Poluche Summary: The thing is, Hal was meant to fly. To go, to see, to be, to not be stuck in the same place without moving forward, isolated without future. So yes, he was freaking out. Enough to ask a sketchy dude whose real name he didn’t even know for help. Or Hal is stuck in a time loop. Batman and Robin are there for him.

How Steve became "Sir Steve the Brave" [text, audio] (Stranger Things (TV 2016)) written by MeggieJolly, performed by steddiestories Summary: Eddie tells Steve a story about how Eddie the Banished and Sir Steve the Brave met. It was only supposed to be a fun little story, but it sort of turns into an accidental feelings confession. ~ »This is the story of Eddie the Banished, Sir Steve the Brave and their merry band of fools.« Eddie started with his usual dramatic flair. He had been stretched out on the bed next to Steve, but now he sat up to do his story - or well, maybe ‚performance‘ would be the better word - justice. »Their story happened a long, long time ago, somewhere in Europe. A place with castles and fortresses, with princes and knights, bards and fools. The kind of place that only exists in history books and fantasy these days. This was the world in which Sir Steve lived in a castle up on a hill overlooking a small town that was ruled by his parents. Sir Steve had been knighted a few years ago and fought in some tournaments to prove himself, but nowadays he was mostly stuck on his parents’ estate.«

A Gift of Flexibility (titanium) (Star Trek: Deep Space Nine) written by BardicRaven, performed by BardicRavenReads, audio production by onegoldenraptor Summary: When Julian is struggling, someone gives him a gift. A gift that helps. A gift of flexibility. When Garak is struggling, Julian gives him a gift. A gift of flexibility. A gift he hopes will help.

The Art of Not Letting Go, Chapter 2 (Ted Lasso (TV)) written by rockinhamburger, performed by klb Summary: Beard takes a deep breath and gives in to the impulse he’s been restraining for weeks: “But with your permission, I'd love to run off this plane and into her arms.” Ted’s eyes widen now, and Beard watches anxiously for hints of how he’s taking this. Ted leans back in his seat and closes his eyes for a few moments, like he’s doing some internal reflection. Then he opens his eyes again, looks at Beard, and says, soft and quiet, “No.” No. The no hangs in suspension as Beard struggles to make sense of it, that’s how sure he was Ted would say yes. He’s too surprised to speak. He must be taking too long because Ted shifts forward, expression conflicted. “Now, obviously you got free will, Beard. I’m not about to tell you what to do. You’re free to make whatever choice you want, so if you wanna stay here… stay with her? I trust you to make good choices, and I’ll support whatever you choose.” Ted lets out a slow, emotional breath. “But if you’re asking for my permission, I—” He visibly swallows, “I’m not giving it.”

The Doctor Doesn’t Text [text, audio] (Doctor Who (2005)) written by waltztangocache, performed by rscreighton and oddfront Summary: The Doctor shares some near future communications technology with Donna.

refreshing as an evil forgotten [text, audio] (魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù) written by unitaryexectheory, performed by Wonderlandian_Geek Summary: Mo Xuanyu dies to bring back Wen Ruohan.

[silviakundera]

Lighter and Princess ep 1

@dangermousie 's posts have seduced me and I always meant to get to this drama, because the lead actress is one of my cdrama crushes. So let's gooooooooooo

Holy shit, how are these the opening lines for a modern cdrama lmao

"Betrayers shall go to hell." / "Just consider me a betrayer. Anyway, it's not binding to me. It doesn't matter if I go to hell. I'm experienced." 😶

Ok but actually, the metal fence separating them, the wind in her hair, the way the field of dry grass matches his bad dye job. Captivating.

Mom starts nagging FL about marriage and all I can focus on is how beautiful her hair looks as it spills over her shoulder. Her pouty mouth 😩

Sorry ML I know your prison release is very poignant but still stuck on how perfect your once & future gf looks when eating cherry tomatoes.

ok ok I'm with u buddy. Setting things on fire on a rooftop at night. Dressing in all black, including long coat. Terse replies. Your goth stylings and soulless eyes are bewitching me, body & soul.

FL's first visit home is to a self-proclaimed 'vampire' friend with a fridge literally half-filled with booze. I can see why she's a girl that's hard to get over.

I'm guessing L&P CEO man is the villian and tbh he's got my respect by not sweating across the table from glowering feral mongoose in human form who seems one moment away setting that office aflame, just to feel something.

ah, the 3 were best friends in university! yep, the dude that didn't end up in prision or flee the country is DEFINITELY the villain.

yaaaassss "betrayers have to pay a price" Simple, vague, yet ominous. Like all threats should be.

awww I like his prison buddy. They shared the same cell and he managed to survive. He's totally foreseeing how intense his bro is gonna be about all this.

wow, flashback More Innocent Times FL was pretty intense herself about pyro boy.

who....is stalking her in the present? Or I guess not.

The fact that he actually came to collect his debts and demand money: based. I'm pretty sick of a 'the only thing I have is my pride, so I refuse all financial support from people who can easily afford it' protagonist.

She has no interest in art? HUH. I like that too. Goes against the 'cultured rich girl' cliche.

lmaooooooo band friend got her revenge by forcing ML to run into FL and bland painter boy.

Prison buddy ganking the check and booking it brings a sense of pride to ex-cons everywhere. Plus, I get the pleasure of FL's silky hair in the lamp light of the street corner she's slammed him into. 😍

[pinkprimrose05]

character asks bc other anon was a coward: blade

HAJFTOVNWHYFAGDYSDNTJ

General opinion/How much I care about them: Ren Blade Yingxing my beloved beloathed depressed miserable angsty bastard aaaaaaa-

This man, oh my god. This edgy mess is somehow the second fastest blorbo to be coined as such in my blorbo-having history, and I think that alone says a lot. But even if not, he has his special little spot for being: 1) my first HSR fave, 2) my current main (the gameplay is ridiculously fun holy shit), and 3) the reason I downloaded the game at all (shoutout to Bronya, of course, but it was mainly Ren).

Also I really like the fact that he's genuinely batshit insane. An unapologetic menace to the galaxies. He can be so unhinged and evil sometimes, and that's a new flavor of fave in my collection. Did I mention the story doesn't try to redeem him at all? Because it's true! Extremely uncommon win on the hyv writers' part there; doubly so because they manage to balance this aspect with the subtle gap moe they love to give to all their stoic characters.

Yes. Ren is simultaneously edginess incarnate and a tired grandpa that sucks with words and doesn't know shit about technology. Oh and he keeps getting roped into Situations by his colleagues- and goes along with them all the time! The dude was literally asked to pose for a movie cover and he just. did that. No questions asked. Nothing.

I care about him a very normal amount. He's so neat and- oh my god I forgot to mention the aesthetic. Black/blue/red/gold is such a banger color scheme. He also has a spider lily motif and that looks very cool! And the pretty ribbon on the back of his coat is a 10/10 design choice. His only problem is that the game keeps forgetting to edit his silly beta design sneakers out of splash art, and that the washed out jeans clash hard with the coat. But otherwise? Perfection. I could (and did) stare at him for hours on end.

A ship I love: Kafblade is one of those pairs that you can read as romantic or platonic with equal efficacy and I love that for it. They're partners in crime! There's a great sense of trust and faith between them! They're each other's guardian and tether and the one who understands them best and they're such an awesome dynamic, good lord.

Honorable mention goes to jingren for the old man yaoi potential to take the relationship in a very (bitter)sweet or very sad way. There's something to be explored here and I wish canon could give it consideration someday.

A non-romantic relationship that I love: Stellaron Hunter agenda!!! They're so awesome individually and as a group, and the comedy is just lovely. You have Ren wrangling two terribly reckless women because in some way, by some miracle, he happens to be the braincell holder among the three. You have him trailing after Kafka on one of her shopping sprees with a whole bunch of bags and coats, you have him going to an arcade with Silver Wolf because she wanted to show him this brand new game she's been talking about nonstop for four days, and you have him in an impromptu shooting session with them both because they wanted to make silly movie covers and needed an extra actor.

They're one small hilarious family and I adore them so so much, you have no idea. Can't wait until Sam and Elio make an appearance in the story so I get more fuel for shenanigans.

The NOTP: None here sir, as long as the ship is normal it's fine by me.

My biggest headcanon about them: Ren is autistic and you will pry this hc from my cold, dead hands. He's stuck in his own head 80% of the time. He doesn't do conversation at all. Back when he was still Yingxing, he used to spend so much time at the forge when inspiration struck him, to the point of tuning out everything until his friends physically dragged him out to touch grass. He's an autistic nerd through and through, and even several thousand deaths can't take that from him.

An idea for a fanfiction I would like to write/read about them: One idea I've been curious about lately is what would happen in a roleswap scenario, where the Astral Express crew find Ren before the Stellaron Hunters do. He may not make for a great archivist, his state of mind may be less-than-stellar, but it's interesting to imagine the dynamics between him and the crew- and hey, who doesn't love taking sad guys out of situations for a change?

I'm filing this concept for later, just in case. Who knows? The writing ghost visits when I least expect it.

Something that makes me think of them: Everything these days The flute, the sound of wind blowing, red spider lilies, and -to the immense detriment of my composure in public- mentions of the word blade in any context ever. Why gee, thanks for permanently altering my brain chemistry.

[enigma-absolute]

when u get this u have to answer with 5 things u like about yourself, publicly. then, send this ask to 10 of your favorite mutuals (non-negotiable, positivity is cool!)

Both you and @choasuqeen had sent me this at roughly the same time, so I guess I’m gonna have to answer this with ten things instead, which is fine!

I was able to cut, sew and stitch on a collar on to my Steve shirt in time to wear it out to my local convention with Blue in hand! Here's one of many photos!

2. Still can't believe I'm saying this, but I managed to rope in three friends to help me sing a cover of 'The Rainbow Connection' for a friend's belated birthday present. I genuinely still listen to it because... wow. It genuinely made both my friend and I tear up when we listened to it together over discord.

(And honestly, we could all do with a bigger choir together...)

3. I'm actually kinda proud of how far my art's come since I started keeping sketchbooks. Looking at the shelf on my right from 2019 to now (though I started in 2013), it's nuts how much I've drawn in those years.

4. On the topic of sewing and sketchbooks, I'm actually kinda surprised I still have bookbound my own sketchbooks, and now they sit in wait to be used someday, ready and waiting in their drawers until I choose the next to go ham with.

5. ...oh my god I still can't fully grasp the weight of having written my show's complete pilot episode, complete since last year for Honours. I know I usually talk and think about it in a very light manner, but dude! I have LORE for that story in SEVERAL notebooks, building and retconning and rewriting as I've gone. I did that??? I DID that?????!!!!!

6. If I really like someone international and online (PLATONICALLY), I'm the kind of woman to mail them physical gifts. The fact that I've sent so much mail and have a minor hoarde of envelopes and sealing wax should say something. This only comes at a certain level of closeness though, since, well, of course. You don't go exchanging physically addresses that easily.

7. Something I hadn’t noticed myself until someone had pointed it out to me is that I’m very outwardly silly in front of my friends. And why shouldn’t I be, I love it! I love that I can say or do something that can make my friends laugh; that I have the lack of care to just do a family guy death pose in a video games shop, get a lab coat for a Beaker Bit, or even have the dumbest grin and cackle while everyone else is done at another dad joke I can think of on the spot.

8. It’s hard to believe it now, but me ten years ago on this hellsite didn’t really have two cares about fashion aside from emulating her idol at the time. Now? I’ve developed some tastes and aesthetics, and while I still have a way to keep growing, I’ve found multiple styles and dream outfits and even outfits I own that not only work in comfort, but also style. Velvet green flared pants? Gold jeans? Bright blue overcoat? Vests? YES.

9. Now that I think about it, I’m… actually kind of impressed with my range of voice acting and impressions? Yes it’s very silly and often for the bit, but I’ve had people compliment my Kermit the Frog voice before, and even if I can’t reach the octave Columbo is at, I can still do the vibes.

10. This is off the back of having a psychology appointment recently, but... I'm kinda proud of how far I've come, honestly. From a lost and lonely and scared girl stuck in NZ to someone about to get a teacher's aide job (hopefully, pray for me y'all!) at her old school's sister school for kids on the spectrum - WITH a Bachelor's and Honours in Animation. In Australia. Who would've thought? I sure didn't. But now I'm here.

[five-rivers]

@lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks came up with this op!Danny/Marvel AU!

BTW I need help naming this newest proof that I can't keep anything to a short little one-shot.

.

Loki was not, and never had been, a good man. For that matter, whether or not he’d ever been a good boy was debatable. His mother would argue that he had, but she would very likely be the only one. Well, except for Thor, perhaps, but that was because he was an idiot who could drown in three inches of nostalgia. Like he didn’t remember every time Loki had humiliated him. Maybe he didn’t, for all that he kept falling for the same trick over and over again.

It made Loki’s late nights studying the arts of illusion, misdirection, and lying seem redundant. Almost. Not everyone was as dense as his big brother.

No. Loki had never been a good man. He had, however, been a free man.

Free to run or hide. Free to explore the nooks and crannies of Asgard, to uncover her secrets in ways few cared to do. Free to walk hidden paths between the Nine Realms and even farther flung territories, where his people did not and had never ruled, to play games, make deals, have adventures, take risks. To be. To exist as his own creature.

He had been free. He had.

But on one of those little secret excursions, he had discovered something that had made even his flippant, slippery heart clench with fear. A ravening plague, spreading across the stars. The death of half of everything on the horizon.

Loki was not a good man. What cause did he have to care for all the sundry others in the universe? There were too many. It was too much to ask.

But Asgard—His home, even though the had long ago realized the blood in his veins originated on very different soil. That was different.

Asgard, he could help. Asgard could survive.

But it had to be strong. It had to have strong allies. None of this barely-held peace, this enemy eternally at their gates. It needed strong leadership. Not his brother’s simplistic view and longing for the glory of war.

Loki was not a good man. But he was one who could get things done.

Before he knew it, he had burned all his bridges behind him. In one case, a literal bridge that was literally broken.

And he fell.

And he fell.

And he fell right into the hands of the one he had feared enough to do this. Broken enough for poison to drip into the cracks. No one knew where he was, no one could know where he was, except, perhaps, Heimdal, and Loki sincerely doubted Heimdal cared. No one was coming for him. No one was looking for him. No rescue was forthcoming.

He was alone.

Asgardians were considered gods for a reason. Their bodies and minds were much more resilient than the average mortal’s. But Thanos’s people had been titans, and there was a reason for that, too.

Thanos enjoyed breaking him.

And Loki turned his lies on himself. A skilled master of games always had one gifted opponent, even alone. Hadn’t he wanted to rule? To command? To see a world, any world, prostrate at his feet? To be given the recognition and praise of which he was so worth?

To pull something, anything, out of the fire?

(If he had spent less time learning how to spin lies and more on how to see the truth, he might not have believed it. A better, wiser, man would have. But Loki was not a good man. And he was very skilled in his craft.)

So, his new master put a weapon in his hands, and he went off to conquer a world.

.

Danny was used to rude awakenings. He was used to those rude awakenings being full body chills and ghosts, not someone knocking on his door.

Blearily, he pulled himself out from under the blankets. Quasi-military government facility or not, the beds were comfortable. Maybe Mom or Dad had gotten themselves locked out of their room? Or Jazz—No, not Jazz, she hadn’t come with them. She was at college, not being flown places by Mom and Dad’s suspiciously generous new consulting job.

At least it wasn’t the GIW.

He stood on tiptoe (curse his perpetually short body) to peer out the peephole. His parents’ buff, one-eyed, and incredibly imposing new boss stood in front of the door, hands on his hips, slightly sweeping back his long dark coat. If Danny listened carefully, he could hear two other people near the door, and… was that an alarm? Yes. Faint, but present, was a warning klaxon.

Okay. Danny would bet his right arm that something had gone horribly wrong with whatever his parents were consulting on. Didn’t explain why the boss was in front of his door.

Unless they’d gotten the rooms mixed up, somehow?

Ugh. Danny wasn’t paid enough to deal with this.

He opened the door. “What-?”

“Phantom,” intoned eyepatch guy with great solemnity.

Danny immediately tried to close the door. The guy stuck his foot in the jamb, and, sure, Danny could have crushed it, but that would be a jerk move. He didn’t think this guy was going for a pirate look, after all.

“We need your help.”

.

“I’m not sure what you think I can help you with,” yelled Danny over the beating of the helicopter blades. He’d remained stubbornly in human form. “My parents are the scientists. This sounds like a science thing. Not a punching-people thing.”

“We spoke to them earlier,” said Fury, “and we have plenty of scientists working on the theories they brought up. You’re the one with practical experience.”

“Practical experience in what?”

“Interdimensional portals,” said the woman, who had yet to introduce herself.

As if this whole thing wasn’t already giving him a bad feeling. “My parents built an interdimensional portal. Again, you should be talking to them. They’re the ones you’re paying.”

“We could pay you, too,” said Fury, “but we assumed you would want to avoid letting your parents know about this, as you’re still a minor and they have control of your bank accounts.”

Danny stared flatly. “This is blackmail.”

“We aren’t threatening you,” pointed out the woman.

“Emotional blackmail,” said Danny, glaring, daring her to challenge him on whether or not he actually knew what blackmail was.

In the meantime, the helicopter landed. Danny unbuckled and hopped out, trailing slightly awkwardly behind Fury and the woman. He didn’t want to stand out, but he suspected that, being the only kid here and being in the general vicinity of Fury, who radiated authority, that was a lost cause.

“This is Agent Coulson. Coulson, this is Phantom.”

Danny’s mouth went dry(er) at how casual the introduction was. His eyes went nervously to all the other people running around the field. With all the noise, it was unlikely anyone had heard, but still…

“Can you not? Secret identity and all? Unless you’ve told everyone herealready, which, rude.”

Fury sighed. “How bad is it?” he asked Coulson.

“We’re not sure,” said Coulson. “That’s the problem. Big fan of your work, by the way,” he added as an aside to Danny. He glanced at the woman. “Agent Hill.”

“Background?” asked Fury as he led the way into the building.

“The first energy surge was four hours ago. Dr. Selvig’s equipment picked it up – He’s the head scientist on this project.”

“Dr. Selvig isn’t authorized to test,” said Fury. “We wanted to run his plans by the Fentons.”

“He wasn’t testing. He wasn’t even in the room. He called it ‘spontaneous advancement.’”

“It turned itself on?”

“What are the energy levels?” asked Fury before Hill’s question could be answered.

“Climbing,” said Coulson.

“Mr. Fenton,” said Fury, “any comments?”

“Look, I don’t even know what this thing that you built looks like or what it’s a door to.” Danny frowned as a thought occurred to him. “You’re not expecting me to fight whatever comes out of it, are you? Because, unless you’ve got a ghost portal down there, I can’t make guarantees.”

“It’s called the Tesseract,” said Coulson. “It’s supposed to be a connection to the other side of space. A source of unlimited energy. At least,” there was a note of humor in his voice despite the evacuation taking place around them, “that’s what the scientists say.”

“A door to space?” asked Danny, firmly shoving down his excitement at the prospect. “Like, a Stargate?” It was no good, he could practically feel himself sparkling. He took a firm grip of his core and reminded himself he might need to fight before the end of the day.

“Well, no,” said Coulson. “It’s this little… cube… thing.” He made a shape with his hands.

“Oh,” said Danny, mind still whirring. “You know, if it’s really a tesseract, it isn’t a cube in just three dimensions, so bigger things could come out of it than you’d think.” He’d seen some weird portals in the Ghost Zone.

“Well, right now, we’re just getting energy.” They entered a large room with an extremely sci-fi setup. It looked like they were planning to shoot some kind of laser across the room onto a platform surrounded by strange-looking panels. There were men with guns scattered around in what was probably a well thought out formation Danny couldn’t see. There was also a dude with a bow sitting up in the rafters. He frowned down at Danny as he noticed Danny noticing him.

“Dr. Selvig!”

“Director!”

“What do we know?”

Danny allowed himself to be distracted by the centerpiece of the room, a piece of machinery built around what was indeed a little cube thing. He tilted his head and approached, trying to get a better view of it around the people in lab coats and protective gear currently swarming it. He caught mention of radiation a grimaced.

It was unlikely to kill him, but, really, everyone here should probably be wearing more PPE. You never knew what was going to come out of an interdimensional portal, after all. Except trouble. Trouble was a pretty safe bet.

It was pretty. Blue. Reminded him a little of a blue raspberry ice pop. Part of him wanted to lick it. Which was stupid. He didn’t want to wind up half what-ever-lived-on-the-other-side on top of his regular ghost nonsense.

“Mr. Fenton?”

Danny jumped and turned, refocusing on the adults, who had multiplied while he’d been daydreaming. The guy with the bow had joined them.

“Mr. Fenton? Like the Doctors Fenton I spoke to earlier?” asked Selvig.

“Yeah, it’s—”

This, of course, was when everything decided to explode. Sort of.

The blue cube shot out a beam of energy that had more than a little in common with the Fenton Bazooka’s portal setting. The beam terminated on the platform, a portal rapidly forming.

Danny slid into a fighting stance, and barely even noticed as blue energy washed over the room, throwing many less-prepared people back.

Something shaped like a man stepped through the portal.

Danny did not break his stance. Still. “An alien,” he whispered, eyes wide. If they were friendly, maybe they’d answer his questions about space. If they weren’t friendly, maybe they’d answer his questions about space after Danny beat them up.

(Danny did not go ghost. Did not even think about going ghost. There were too many people here, and the space was too open.)

Fury attempted to negotiate. Danny approved. Not everything that came through an interdimensional portal was necessarily evil.

Except this guy apparently was. Go figure. He could also deflect bullets and was very good with throwing knives, which led to Danny having to pull several of the gun guys out of their own line of fire as well as the alien’s line of knife. Who would have thought an alien’s weapon of choice would be throwing knives? The energy-blasting spear was much more in line with his expectations.

The bow guy proved to be more competent than the gun guys. This didn’t really surprise Danny. Bow guy sort of had to be competent. Otherwise, no way would they let him go around with a bow. Like, seriously. A bow.

Even so, bow guy was fighting an alien and—

“You have heart,” said the alien, raising the spear.

Danny pushed bow guy out of the way, and his mind fuzzed out.

(The human part of it, anyway.)

.

Loki didn’t know what a child was doing here, and he didn’t particularly care. The boy would do for a hostage, at least. He had a mission he had to fulfil, or else…

Or else.

“Please don’t,” he said turning with a shadow of his usual lazy affect, vaguely insulted that the human thought he could be sneaker that him, “I still need that.”

The human went on and on, apparently burdened with the delusion that he was on the same level as Loki.

Loki was burdened with other things. A glorious purpose. Glad tidings. Freedom. What could be better than freedom?

“A world free from what?” asked the human.

“From freedom,” said Loki, and wasn’t that what he believed, now? Wasn’t that what he’d been shown? “Freedom is life’s great lie.” He would know. He was an excellent liar. “Once you accept that, in your heart—” He batted away an arrow and tsked. “Shield me, boy,” he demanded. Had Thanos misrepresented the scepter’s powers? Or was the boy merely—

A dome of green surrounded him and the boy, thrumming with magic the likes of which he had only seen once, in a tome thrice forbidden.

“Oh,” said Loki, almost purring. “You are interesting. What are you?”

“Half human, half ghost,” replied the boy, tersely.

Loki had never heard of such a creature. No matter. He’d be sure to make good use of him.

“Grab the scientist,” he said, nodding at the balding man who had been with his brother when he’d fought the Destroyer in the desert.

Loki wanted the archer. He seemed interesting. Useful.

.

Fenton was under thrall. Phantom knew what that felt like. A hundred feet under red water, trying not to drown, whispers everywhere. Pulling. Pushing. Prodding.

This was different, but the principle was the same.

Neither half of him could truly ‘fight’ the other. Fenton and Phantom were a single entity. Not two in lockstep. Even so.

Fenton grabbed onto Dr. Selvig, as ordered. Phantom made sure that was all they did.

“What are you doing, boy?” snapped Loki. “Follow me! Bring the scientist.”

And so, they followed.

.

Loki breathed. Acquiring Barton had been the right choice. The boy was powerful, but, perhaps because of his unique biology, did not have Barton’s presence of mind, and couldn’t have led him to such wonderful allies.

Allies.

These weren’t truly his allies. Nor were they subjects. They were…

Loki forced himself to breathe. He just had to follow the mission. Follow the mission, let Thanos’s army through. He’d been promised this world. He would have this world.

And then he could be… His mind stuttered over the next word, and he shook his head, trying to drive out the painful buzz of Thanos’s herald and mouthpiece trying to contact him.

He looked up at the drones bustling around, all according to his will. Except the boy, who stared at him, somehow managing to be both utterly blank and challenging at the same time.

He was alone, here.

He was alone.

But what did it matter? Bad men always wound up alone, and Loki… Loki could never be a good man.

[borkthemork]

Finally cleaned up this draft based on @/popcornbee’s art and it is now officially on AO3 as well, so I hope all of you enjoy!

---

There were numerous pathways for a sparrow to travel. Following their migration patterns, they'd travel down to warmer lands, typically somewhere protected for the nights. In doing so, they'd rest in the winter and return back all new. Refreshed for the upcoming springs and summers.

For American Tree Sparrows, these patterns were necessary to survive.

For Joe Sparrow, the true information depended. 

He liked to flit about on rapid wing beats. He preferred curdled mealworms due to previous battles hurting his digestive system. For migration, he remained stubborn on whether he liked the warmer breezes or if the Newtopian stables were of true home than anything else.

Newtopia had a history of domestic birds. Joe Sparrow was the mixed case when he grew all-natural, got captured and owned by one or more owners who called him previous names, and then found Marcy in the middle of sweltering rain. Where a mission lead to something new and surprising, bold and unorthodox, and the moment Joe saved her — chose her hand of all people — Marcy promised to keep him safe. Safe, protected, cared for.

And nothing had pulled these two away from each other. Not even the fleeting concept of gravity. Or the fact winter threatened his nests.

Anne asked about him before. On one occasion, where Marcy groomed him under Plantar barn shade, Anne looked at his big, round, puffy belly and wondered out loud where the scar above his eye fit in out of all things.

Of course, Marcy had the answer.

“Oh, you know Joe,” she sighed. “He keeps pushing his limits. You won’t believe how many scars this bad boy got during his old career. For the eye one, he actually got that scar back when he was just a fledgling, but this was during the morally ethical times where amphibians didn’t really care for mounts unless they were battle resistant.”

Her hand parsed through his plume, giggling when Joe tweeted pleasantly against her skin. “But now he’s in a morally ethical place, aren’t you, boy? Yes, you are.”

Anne snorted. She ruffled Joe’s feathers too, and the two giggled quietly when the sparrow seemed to lean into the touch. Almost as if the sparrow connected immediately to Anne.

And Anne teared up over the thought. “It’s just like mother nature intended.”

The week afterward reminded Marcy of her sparring days, but instead of swords and smoke bombs, she had worms and patience. Lots of patience as Anne attempted to feed some mesh into Joe’s beak — and ultimately got stuck when she leaned too hard into his mouth.

It was funny how all this bonding time left her blind to anything else on the schedule. Marcy could instruct Anne to direct the mealworms to Joe for hours and still find Anne’s laughter to be the highlight of her day. Maybe Joe would sit on Anne, and leave her yelling and laughing under floof-fulls of bird, and Marcy would sketch that scene than the typical mission schematics Lady Olivia instructed her to look through.

Marcy hypothesized that Joe's love for attention spurned her focus. It made sense for birds to tease if they didn’t get the proper reaction out of people. It made sense for a bird such as Joe to find affection in someone who exuded goodness from their heart. But then Marcy would remember Anne. For Anne had Joe’s affection at the palm of her hands but irritated the bird enough to prefer dipping her into a nearby pond just for the sake of playfighting. And that enough had gotten her intrigued.

Was it another phenomenon she needed to analyze? To understand fully until the cusp of discovery?

Perhaps. Not right now though.

Marcy had found a breakthrough. A breakthrough in Animal-Human Sociology. But her focus lingered elsewhere, came down to how she rested next to a bucket load of dirty feathers — snoring into her best friend’s shoulder until the moon rose high above the Amphibian mountains.

---

When Marcy stared through the sky, and the act alone reminded her so much of Kid Icarus. If she ignored the wings branching out from the corners of her eyes, and only focused on the colors then she thought of herself as flying. Flying through skies that bled yellows and reds like Aivazovsky, framed so well against the crisp horizons that Marcy could almost paint the perfectest picture in her mind.

And when wind buffered her hair, parted the clouds with her hands, she swore that the taste on her tongue was of fresh saltwater.

Navigation. Freedom. The fades from orange to blue to maroon. Marcy loved riding for a reason. She held onto Joe’s reins with the utmost quickness, spelled out her name with short dives and leaps through cumulus tufts. And in the aftermath, she wrung her coat dry of moisture.

At least, until Anne became a priority.

Anne Boonchuy. Friend of ten years. Friends since the term friends became part of the Merriam Webster. Now, the latter sounded silly, but friendship could be a frank concept at times, it was something Marcy had no clue how to navigate, and yet Anne found her and decided Marcy was worth her time.

So they were here now: One readying an avian saddle, the other petting Joe’s tufts with the heaviest affection. And aw, Joe seemed to like it, what with the amount of cooing he’d been doing for the past hour.

Not like Marcy didn’t want to get in on that action. She just needed to finish clipping on the latches — and when she did that, it would be go-time, her a-game.

“Anne, can you push me that satchel?”

“Sure thing, Marce.” With ease, Anne somehow lugged a chair-sized bag over to where Marcy was, and they remained silent afterward as she finished the remainder of preparations.

What preparations? Well, the kind that remained out of her league.

“Sooo, where are ya’ going, exactly?” Anne asked. She had the same perturbed look to her ever since she whiffed the scents from the bag itself.

Marcy couldn’t help but rub her neck, not knowing how well to respond. “Well, I’ve been planning to scout an area somewhere high up in the Southern sect of Amphibia. I got wind that some bandits plan to use a route to jump ambassadors from here and there on the pathways, and I just wanted to make sure that doesn’t happen again, you know?"

“For sure, dude. I mean, you are the boss after all. That stuff’s gotta be pretty important if you’re getting loads of homework for it.”

“Well,” Marcy puckered her lips. She was right in some sense. Chief rangers plopped themselves into some high category up in the Newtopian ranks. It made sense. “Correct, kinda. I don’t really call it a boss position, more so a job. A very fun job, actually. You’d be surprised at how many prefer office desks to infantry, it’s nuts.”

Although, the more she thought about it, being able to stay safe in a big ole’ cube than getting skewered by bandits did sound appealing. Less probability for harm, sure. But Marcy loved the hunt way too much for her own good.

If Andrias gave her another objective, she might as well do a little dance at this point; there was always something exciting to partake in.

And with Joe, the fun always doubled with him.

At least, until she remembered that Anne had been staring at her, snapping her fingers in front of Marcy’s nose. “Marbles, you good? Another zone-out moment again?”

“Oh yeah, definitely. Thanks, I was about to get worried, the internal dialogue I had was getting way too extensive for my taste."

"Well, now that you’re out of your internal dialogue stuff, I got to ask.” Anne peered at Joe again. “Can I get on your bird?”

Marcy blinked at her. “Oh. Of course. You don’t really need to ask me if you’re curious about riding him.”

“I know, but he’s a big softie, really wanted to make sure I got your permission before anything else.” She coughed. “Plus I’m not gonna take any vehicles without permission. Tried that once. Didn’t go so hot.”

Somehow, Marcy found herself giggling. She couldn’t pinpoint why; Anne’s honesty must’ve just been that funny. “Well, if you want to jump on the SS Joe Sparrow, I’d be happy to show you around and get you a front-row ticket to some action.”

“For real?” Anne beamed, only for her expression to melt into a frown, scratching her chin at the thought. “Aren’t you on ranger duty though?”

Okay, she had a point there. “I mean, yeah, but I’ve mainly done this stuff solo. Sure I’ve got Joe to accompany me but it’ll be interesting to have a second person on board for the ride.” Without a skip in her beat. “And why wouldn’t I have you go with me? Of course, I would. You’re always the best on road trips.”

And with that, Anne’s smile grew tenfold. Oddly beautiful. Oddly hard to describe. Weirder to even have herself think those things in the first place. “Count me in, then. Let’s go, Marbles!”

Oh well. She’d think about that later.

---

Joe softened his landings in-between. And at certain points, when the mountains dipped to valleys he rocketed around and buffeted the gales just for the heck of it. He had the heart of a little kid sometimes, every moment he swooped through some current or plummet forward if he got the chance. He liked to make himself seem so grand when he cheeped. And Marcy confided in the idea that no matter how aged this sparrow would become, he’d still be the softest avian around.

Always there. Always playful. Always…eager for potential mates. He was the total package for best mount in all of Amphibia, and Marcy didn’t want it any other way.

So with Anne, Marcy became delighted when Joe kept that same kindness. It wasn’t just Marcy doing rough landings against solid ground or her zipping through the air. There were two people, two people to consider on the back of his saddle.

And Joe never disappointed her. He pivoted, swerved on command, and coaxed giggles from the girl behind her, whose arms pressed tightly to her waist until their hair puffed out from the wind.

“Keep your arms locked in, Annie B!”

Marcy’s hands whipped the reins, whooping at the top of her lungs when the dive pushed oceans of air into their faces.

The straps and belts dug into their laps when Joe pulled up, braced them in a loop-de-loop that had their eyes rolling when they finally exited out to a steady level.

And Marcy could hear the laughter behind her.

The laughter spoke of so much joy and happiness, of a symphony that Marcy had heard so many times before, and Marcy leaned into her warmth when they passed from the hallowed groves to the shimmering Newtingale creaks.

All throughout the Southern sect, all throughout the faint rattle of Marcy’s heart.

---

The ride home had been a lot darker than Marcy expected. For most of her trips in and out of the valleys, a lot of her path-finding culminated in something one could describe as an adventure. If one described her and Anne beating up an entire bandit group disguised as a clown posse to be an adventure, then yes. That was what happened.

They went head-to-head, toe-to-toe. All while decked out in white makeup and smelly rotten clown noses. This all sounded ridiculous, but out in Amphibia, one should never ever underestimate a theatre group.

For entertainment was their cruelest weapon.

Anne had been the first to ambush the bandits during the mission. With the agile reflexes of a cat, she deflected each oncoming slash with ease while Marcy took aim, calculated her crossbow trajectory until the enemies all knocked unconscious in the mud.

If one ignored the clown get-up, then what she talked about seemed like a typical day for Marcy. Always saving someone. Always doing her best. Always making sure no newts got chewed up by some toad or frog dressed up in rogue wear.

But the difference today was that she had someone to accompany her. Or how that same someone jumped onto Joe and gave that feisty bird a few scratches to his feathers, trying to wash her face in the water bucket they stored earlier today.

It all seemed domestic-like. The kind that Marcy dreamed about in fantasy stories, where the protag had a close ally to travel the world until their dying breaths.

And gosh, it was so cool that Anne became that friend.

She seemed to enjoy it too, what with the close embrace when they finally took off for the night, her chin propped on her cloaked shoulder, or the fact her exhales drifted in crisp Amphibian air.

A sign that she was enjoying everything. Everything from the swoop of Joe’s wings, the purple haze of the night, or how the moon cloaked their forms in red lighting — masking the landscape in darkness like a blanket over bedding.

Anne sighed contently. Her face nestled close to Marcy’s neck. She didn’t show that she regretted being here.

Not one bit.

“I’ve never been this high up before,” she mumbled. “The only times I did were when some creature flung me up into the middle of nowhere.”

Marcy hummed to that. Anne's fingers ghosted the triceps of Marcy's arms, left goosebumps to form and bristle in the cold, it made everything feel weird. Comfortable. Safe. “So is this less traumatizing and more exciting then?”

“Oh yeah, definitely.” Her voice rang, all charmed and sweet. “By a long shot.”

And Marcy was glad about that. Ever since she found Joe, a lot of her adventures had gotten easier to deal with. From zooming over to the Dry Swamp to the many forests hidden deep underneath solid canopies, one of the many pros of having a steed like Joe was of the view.

A view that made scouting ten times easier. The kind that entangled her in clouds, the song of avians, and the dance of the breeze. The kind that chilled her nose, left cumulus droplets on her thumbs, and when she settled down from grazing the upper layers of oxygen her body’s equilibrium warmed her up like it always intended to.

To have Anne feel that same experiences — the same elation — made the trip all the more worth it. Especially when Marcy’s skin grew warmer under non-equilibrium circumstances. All due to the cuddly contact.

Oh, Anne.

“If you want, I know a froggy pitstop nearby that sells slushies twenty-four-seven,” Marcy said softly. Joe went into a descent, already maneuvered by Marcy’s quick hands at the reins. They weren’t going to land yet. At least until Anne said so. “Wouldn’t hurt to take in the view on a full stomach.”

“That sounds amazing.” Anne pressed closer, and Marcy tried not to think about the murmur, how low it rumbled against Marcy’s ear. Gosh, she must be really relaxed by now. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m ready for some grub.”

“Well, they aren’t really grubs more like a mish-mash of every insect on the palette.”

“I try not to think about it.”

With laughter escaping them, Marcy directed Joe into the forest space below, her heart synced with the beat of sparrow wings.

[lunammoon]

The Problem With Hetalia (As told by someone who actually in the fandom until like, 2016)

I'm hoping this post will explain to people who are still into Hetalia why a lot of people have an issue with from the perspective of someone who knows a lot about the show. 

TL;DR: By making the WW2 axis powers come across as a lovable idiot, his serious friend, and the stoic voice of reason, it downplays the serious nature of what the Axis did and seeing as the real-life Axis harmed real-life people, many people have a justifiable huge issue with this. 

I will go more into depth about this under the cut.

A lot of people are talking about how Hetalia is coming back after 5 years and a lot of people are rightfully annoyed at the show. But what I'm seeing is that a lot of the people who are upset are people who clearly haven't watched the show and therefore are unable to explain to people who have watched it why it’s bad. The most that you hear is:

"it glorifies the Axis Powers" (which isn't 100% accurate although the assessment that they are portrayed in a way that makes them seem less bad is accurate) 

"Hetalia Cosplayers wore Nazi uniforms in front of a Holocaust memorial" (which I'd say is more of an issue with fans than the show). 

That is not to say that there isn't an issue with the show, because there really is. But these observations are unlikely to mean much to someone who watches Hetalia. So, in this thread, I'm going to explain why Hetalia is Problematic with the added context perspective of someone who was into the show during most of middle school and until Freshman year of high school. 

I knew the human names, used to jam to "Always With You" and "Pub and Go" and “It’ll Settle Itself Somehow” and “Light my Heart” and “Absolute British Gentleman” and “Mein Gott” and “World Rondo” and “Excuse Me, I’m Sorry” and so, so many more. 

I lost my shit with everyone else when the season 6 ep dropped and Italy danced like he was possessed by a demon. When I hear “ACE” family, I don’t think of Youtubers. I actually took a side on the FruUK vs UsUk debate and if you look in my archive, you can probably find some Hetalia posts that I’m too lazy to delete.

The point here being, I’ve actually seen the show so I know what I’m talking about. This isn’t an outsiders perspective is what I’m saying.

So, let’s get right into it. While technically only seasons 1-2 are officially actually called "Axis Powers" (Seasons 3-4 are called "World Series" Season 5 is "Beautiful World" and Season 6 is called "World Twinkle") WW2 and things relating to the Axis Powers are an important part of every season and appear prominently.

While Hetalia has covered many things from all different time periods, the two most common periods covered are the modern-day and of course, the second World War. The show is Japanese and (I assume) because Japan was on the Axis side, these portions focus more on the Axis Powers of Italy, Japan, and Germany. The Allies do come into play. And while the Allies aren't directly like, evil, which would've been FAR WORSE they've got a kind of Team Rocket-esque thing going on? They're not exactly mustache-twirling villains but they're clear antagonists. Make no mistakes.

I think the deserted Island arc is the best example of the problems many people have with the show.

Take for example, that beach fight. If you've watched Hetalia, you'll know the one I'm talking about. The one that they reused like, 50 times. The Allies are clearly shown as the antagonists/aggressors while the Axis are literally just vibing on a (kinda) deserted island and defending themselves. 

Now, if this was three dudes chilling on the beach and they suddenly got attacked by another five dudes also on the beach who they then fought off until the five attackers ran away that’s be one thing.

The issue is that this is supposed to be a representation of WW2. It's basically saying "oh, Nazi Germany, Imperial Japan, and Fascist Italy were literally just vibing, not bothering anyone when suddenly, the Allies attacked for no reason. Luckily, they (the Allies) retreated because the Allies are Cowardly but they keep coming back and bothering them,". Do you see the issue there? Most of the beach arc seems to be the writer forgetting that these are supposed to be Nations, not a random Italian dude, a German dude, and a Japanese dude.

“Oh, but they don’t glorify Nazi Germany. They don’t really even talk about what Germany was doing! Look at this pic of Germany in a lab coat holding a dandelion :)“

That’s not the defense that you think it is and it’s actually a main part of the issue that I, and many other people have with Hetalia.

I think the scene where this issue is the most obvious is the one where they are gathering around a campfire and talking and one of them comes up with the name "the Axis". The whole scene has the same energy characters in a moe anime coming up with a band name.

They’re sitting on a beach at night. I think there might’ve been a campfire, the stars are out, and the three of them talk about their dream of making a world that revolved around them. One of them comes up with the name “the axis” and then they all talk about how you would translate "axis" in their language. It’s all very found family-esque. The way the scene is framed is to encourage you to route for them to reach their goal. It’s the same kind of tone you’d see in a shoujo with a girl telling her friends about how she wants to win the singing competition no matter what or in Sword Art Online when Kirito talks about saving Asuna.

The issue is that their goal isn’t to win some competition or to save someone they care about. It’s to spread facism, imperialism, and bring about genocide.

There of course don’t SAY that that’s their goal, and outside of a one off line in the English dub that’s been since censored, they don’t really bring up what Germany was up to during WW2 vis-a-vie the Holocaust and if they did bring it up, I either wasn’t paying attention, it was in the manga, or it was in one of Germany’s character songs.

The issue is that during WW2 the show seems to at best forget and at worst, gloss over it that the main trio that they're focusing on are the villains. And not like, fantasy villains. Actual real-life villains that hurt real people in the real world. Imagine if instead of Ludwig Beilschmidt and Feliciano Vargas, it was Adolf Hitler and Benito Mussolini. 

Are you seeing the problem yet?

I get why people like to watch the show. Ignoring the WW2 bits, it’s actually pretty good. I, as an American, really like Alfred F. Jones and the way he’s portrayed.

If Hetalia had stuck to non-WW2 related things such as that episode where the nations all talk about how horror movies differ in their nations, or they talked about their Christmas traditions. Or the ones where America and Japan are roommates. Or when they showed that time when America airdropped XL condoms on Russia labeling them as "small" for intimidation reasons. Or that series of episodes where they talked about Micronations. Or that time they all had to come together to fight aliens. Or the bit where they talked about the WW1 Christmas Armistice. Then it would be fine.

The issue is that they didn’t.

If they kept WW2 stuff for SOME reason. They had two options. 

Make the axis as proper villains

 Be explicit in showing that the nations will doesn't reflect what their leader wants. 

The first option wouldn’t be ideal if they wanted to cover any time period other than World War 2. The axis would be too unlikable and I doubt that an anime where Japan is the villain would appeal much to Japanese audiences.

But what about the second option. Have a bit where Ludwig is passing out White Rose pamphlets or smuggling people to safety.

Have Kiku (Japan for people who don’t watch Hetalia) purposefully looking the other way as Sugihara writes visas to get people to safety and covering for him against his boss. SOMETHING!

But instead of doing either of those, they took the bad third option which was, their choice to instead make the axis seem like likable individuals who are a group of three good friends who work together will in contrast with the “bumbling Allies” who are barely cohesive and constantly fight and argue. At best, makes it seem like both sides had a point and at worst, makes it seem like the Axis was a better than the Allies.

All of this is to say that liking Hetalia does not make you inherently a bad person, but you need to be more critical of what you watch and understand that there is a reason that some people have a genuine issue with it and they have a very good reason for that. You can still watch it the show, but do keep this information in the back of your brain as you do

[iridescentjin]

Summary: The summer that you meet Kim Taehyung proves to be a cruel summer. kth x reader

“I’m drunk in the back of the car, and I cried like a baby coming home from the bar. Said, “I’m fine”, but it wasn’t true. I don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you. And I snuck in through the garden gate every night that summer just to seal my fate.” Taylor Swift - Cruel Summer

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Warnings: vaginal fingering, swearing, recreational alcohol use, protected and unprotected sex, impact play, light choking, everyone’s fingers in everyone’s mouths, smol amounts of exhibitionism, oral sex (f. receiving and m. receiving)

a/n: this is mostly just a story that I wrote a bunch of my friends into. Anyway, I didn’t even read it all the way through once. It could make no sense at all. It’s my your queen of not editing and not having someone beta read. I don’t remember who else I was supposed to tag. @moonpjms @glossyfever @onherwings @softguks​ @ot7always​

WC: 18K+

You pulled up your hood then firmly tucked your arms around yourself. You ducked your head as you ran across the street through the rain. The awnings covered most of the sidewalk, but the street was uncovered, rain splattering all over the black asphalt. The neon and LED lights from the shops bouncing off the wet ground, creating a constantly changing abstract art display. You felt yourself hesitate as you were coming upon the curb because you were entranced by the dancing colors.

Leaving work this late hadn’t been your plan today, but at least you’d come prepared with a jacket, knowing that the monsoon season tended to span most of the summer. You, however, had forgotten your umbrella at home. You admonished yourself in your brain for being such an airhead today, like always. Thank God for Find My iPhone, or you’d constantly be in trouble.

You look at the sidewalk ahead of you, still glinting with the lights from the shops and business, and you sighed in exasperation upon seeing the large sections ahead of you that had no awning. Normally it wouldn’t be a big deal, but you were supposed to meet friends tonight at a bar in Gangnam. You were already running behind, not to mention the 30 minutes on the train that you had ahead of you. Now, you also had to worry about looking like a drowned rat, with your hair falling stringy and wet around your face.

You stand at the edge of the awning as if you’re looking down a steep precipice for your inevitable end. You stand for one more second, close your eyes, and accept your fate. Before you can take a step into the downpour, someone clears their throat behind you. You turn quickly to see a tall man with dark shaggy hair standing a little too close to you. You can’t see most of his face because he’s wearing a mask and a hat with a bill, but his eyes are sparkling just like the lights off the wet pavement.

“You look like maybe you could use an umbrella,” he says, and you can tell just from his tone that he has a smile on his face.

Normally, you wouldn’t accept help from a strange man on the street, but it’s raining and you’re late.

You sigh and say, reluctantly, “Are you going anywhere near Saetgang station?”

He shifts his weight in an energetic kind of way. “As a matter of fact, I happen to be going to Saetgang station.”

He shifts his umbrella to his left hand and holds it over you more than himself. You walk with your shoulders touching, and after about 2 minutes, he talks. He isn’t looking at you, but you still know it’s for you because no one else is around.

“You can just call me Tae, by the way.”

“Oh, thanks,” you pause, unsure if you want to give him any more information about yourself than you have to; stranger danger and all that. “I’m y/n.”

“Y/n? That’s an unusual name for around here.”

“Well, I’m originally from the States, but I moved here when I was very young. My dad worked at the consulate and my mother was an English teacher, so I’ve been here most of my life.” You realize the insane amount of detail you’ve just given him, and you shake your head at yourself. To shift focus, you snap, “Besides, Tae isn’t that common for around here anyway. If you were traditional Korean, wouldn’t your name be three syllables? Whoever heard of a traditional ‘just call me Tae.”

“Hey! Come on. I’ve got a Korean name. I would just like to have a tiny bit of anonymity, thank you very much. Not all of us are open books, Ms. my-father-works-for-the-consulate.”

“Worked.” Your tone drops, and you keep your head down as you see the stairs down to the subway before you. You thank the universe or God or whoever was listening to the shouting in your head for the awkward interaction to be over.

As soon as you are down the stairs and out of the rain, you thank him and try to scurry off. Hopefully you’ll never have to see that jerk again.

You swipe your transportation card and make your way to the platform to wait for the next train. The train from Yeoui-dong to Gangnam comes every 12 minutes, and you have the times memorized in your head. The last train had come at 7:11pm. You look down at your watch. 7:22pm. Perfect timing you think to yourself. Despite being slowed down slightly by just-call-me-Tae, you were still perfectly on time.

When the train arrives, you clamber inside around the car stuffed with bodies. You find a place to grab the railing overhead and cast your eyes at the floor of the car. It’s best to avoid eye contact on the train.

After the first stop, the people inside shift around, and the shoes in front of you now are not the same as the last pair. The person before you before was wearing black shoes, the kind that are so shiny that you could see your reflection in them. These shoes are slip on loafers with a little decorative metal clasps on top. Something about them is familiar. Oh shit.

You draw your eyes up the slender frame before you, and you take in the muscles on his chest that you hadn’t noticed before. When you finally look at his face, he has a smug, amused grin showing his teeth. You roll your eyes, and then your heart speeds up.

“Are you following me? What do you want? I don’t have any money.”

His eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “Oh my god! No! We just happened to be on the same train! I’m meeting friends at SAHM in Gangnam, I promise!”

The panic in his tone makes you want to trust him, but you still remain wary. As his words set in, you roll your eyes again.

“Seriously? SAHM? Are you kidding me call-me-Tae?”

You know you didn’t tell him where you were going except to the station, but the fact that he says he’s going to the same bar as you seems too crazy to be coincidence.

“Yes?” he says, the surprise wiped from his face to be replaced by confusion.

“Why?” you ask to yourself in exasperation.

The train stops, and people shuffle around the car. You get pushed a little closer to the man in front of you, and you feel your cheeks redden.

“Well, my friend is hanging out with his girlfriend and her friends tonight, and they invited me and some other friends too.” He’s confused, and you want to call him an idiot for not realizing that the question wasn’t directed toward him.

He reaches into the pocket on his long, sweeping tan coat. You recoil ever so slightly from the unexpected movement.

He plucks his phone from his pocket and holds it toward you. “Dude, relax,” he laughs. “I’m not stalking you. I’m not going to murder you. You’re fine. I see you clutching that pepper spray. Use it if you need, but maybe just not in the confined train car.”

You become aware of the fact that your hand is in your purse, gripping your pepper spray, and you feel a little embarrassed. You mutter an apology.

“Look.” He holds his phone out to you.

Very clearly in the group chat he shows you are several people making plans to meet up at SAHM tonight. You roll your eyes again.

“If you keep doing that, they’re gonna get stuck like that.”

Every moment with this man is more embarrassing than the last, and you cannot wait for the ride to be over. Only one more stop before yours, and you can get off the train, mosey around the station for an inconspicuous amount of minutes before going to SAHM to meet your friends.

You ride the rest of the way to Gangnam with your eyes on anything but that embarrassing man, and he doesn’t push the conversation any further.

When the doors open, just-call-me-Tae bows slightly and says it was nice to meet you. Then he disappears into the sea of people in the station.

It’s about 30 minutes later when you finally make it to the bar, and you see your friends across the crowded space. The place has a kind of rustic feel to it, lots of wood and exposed brick. It reminds you of the hipster bars back in the states when you visited family last summer, and your cousin, Lindy, had insisted that you just had to try the new bar in town. You had a good time, but those fancy hipster drinks were stronger than you thought. You’d ended up drunk, flirting with the bartender. You even started an argument with Lindy when she refused to let you go home with a stranger in a country that you didn’t know well or speak the language perfectly.

You wriggle through the crowded bar to make your way to your friends. You smile at the sight of them all laughing and drinking together. Your friend, Rey, has her arm around the waist of a guy a little taller than her, who has a mask and a cap on, covering most of his face. You assume it’s her boyfriend, who she talks about non-stop but rarely goes into detail about.

Once you reach them, you see your friends’ beautiful faces and smile. They’re all gathered around a tall table, drinking and talking loudly. You say hello to all of your friends, hugging Rey last.

“y/n, this is Jimin. I’ve told you a little bit about him,” she shouts over the loud bar sounds, beaming up at him. She’s so precious when she’s in love.

She’s talked vaguely about Jimin for a long time, and you aren’t totally sure what his job is. You know that he travels a lot for work and that sometimes Rey goes with him. You know that she never says exactly where he lives or who his friends are or anything like that. She’s so smitten that you are so excited to finally meet him.

“Hi, Jimin. I’m so glad to finally meet you!”

You shake his hand and exchange pleasantries. His eyes are the only part of his face that you can really see, but they are full of light and excitement and joy. You feel overwhelmed by the feeling of happiness in your chest just from meeting your friend's boyfriend.

“y/n, I brought some of my friends along. Everyone else has already met them, but I’d love to introduce you.”

Jimin’s friends are all gathered together, talking and drinking. Jimin pulls each of them over to introduce them, the smile in his eyes shining above the mask. He finally pulls over a man with white shirt, when he turns, it’s undeniable that the face before you is the same one that you’d hoped to never see before. Luckily, you’re drunk and having fun, so you feel a little more relaxed.

“This is my best friend, Tae,” says Jimin. Tae shakes each of your hands, and when he gets to you, he hesitates as he says, “Nice to meet you.”

“Hi, I’m y/n,” you say, with snark dripping off your tongue.

“y/n? That’s such a unique and beautiful name.”

You blush a little bit, and you’re not sure why. You know he’s just making a joke, making up for what he said before. The alcohol pulsing through your body leaves you feeling a little hazy as you realize that you’ve been holding his handshake for too long. You yank your hand away from him and rub your cheek gently.

You turn from him and make your way back over to your friends. “y/n, you are so red!” exclaims Ahhyun.

You duck your head and cover your face with your hands. You’re just red because you’re embarrassed by Tae nothing else. You throw back the rest of your drink and track down the server to get another one.

After a few drinks, you are feeling silly and giggly with your friends. Everyone, including Jimin’s friends, decides to play a game around the table, and everyone is giggling and drinking. You’ve missed nights out with your friends like this, and for some reason, you keep finding yourself next to Tae.

Someone suggests that you all play suck and blow because apparently you aren’t actual adults with real jobs and retirement accounts. At least not tonight. You end up next to your friend Seoyeon on one side and Tae on the other. As the card goes around, you look up at Tae thinking about the fact that he has yet to remove the mask from his face. He sneaks the straw from his drink up under the bottom and drinks. You laugh to yourself at the silliness of it all.

“Are you going to be able to play with that mask on?” you ask him pointedly.

“Of course. You have no idea how strong my skills are.” He giggles and sets his drink on the table.

You finish your drink, and you feel that fuzzy feeling in your head that tells you that it’s probably time for some water. You watch the group pass the card from one person to another. Jinhee intentionally drops the card as she turns to her girlfriend, Ash, an adorable girl who is studying abroad in Seoul. You feel yourself blush as they kiss, and you melt a little bit more. You’re such a hopeless romantic, and love makes you so soft.

You get the card from Seoyeon and turn to Tae. He tries his hardest to hold the card against his mouth with his mask on, but it falls. Everyone laughs as he keeps his face close to yours.

“Oops,” he whispers. His tone hints that maybe it wasn’t an accident, but you can’t tell.

Suddenly, your mind is full of the image of you pulling down his mask and kissing his lips hard, tasting the sweet alcohol on his tongue. You want to put your hands in his hair and pull his hat off. His shirt is loose, and you long to see the shape of his chest underneath it. His collarbones are poking out of the top of his shirt, and you can see how perfectly your mouth would fit on them.

You are completely lost in the lustful thoughts when someone drops a glass on the floor, and it shatters. You realize the thoughts that you’ve been having, and you feel like the heat immediately shooting into your cheeks again. You decide to head to the bathroom to try to rinse your face with cold water. Maybe it will sober you up and keep these thoughts about Tae out of your head.

You splash the water on your face and wash your hands. This is the first time that you’ve looked in the mirror since before you walked in the rain, and you can see that your hair, while not as bad as it could be, is windblown and messy. Your fingers fumble through your hair until you get it slightly more presentable. You rinse your face once more, trying to wash away the redness in your face from the drinks.

When you stumble slightly as you exit the bathroom, and you trip slightly and grab onto the arm of the man that you trip into. You look up, and a tall gruff looking man is looking down at you.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry,” you mutter and try to slip away from him.

“Where are you going, cutie? You didn’t even introduce yourself yet,” he says as he grabs your wrist.

“Look, I should really get back to my friends.” You’re panicking a little, and you try to wiggle your wrist free of his grasp.

“Ah, honey, won’t you stay and chat a while with me?” he starts to pull you closer to him, and you yank your wrist away from him.

“Oh goodness, darling, there you are. I’ve been looking for you,” a male voice announces from behind you. When you whip your head around, Tae is standing there.

You scoot closer to him and grab his hand. “Sorry, babe, I didn’t mean to get lost. It’s just so crowded in here. I lost direction.”

The man who had been trying to get you to stay with him looks disgruntled as Tae pulls you into his side. Before he can say anything, Tae pulls the mask down from his face and the bill of his hat up a bit to reveal the absolutely gorgeous face before you. There’s something super familiar about it that you can’t quite place. Upon seeing his face, the guy mumbles some apologies and skulks away.

“Really? Your face scared him? That pretty thing?” you ask, drunker than you felt a minute ago.

Tae laughs and pulls his mask back up. Then something clicks in your brain. You’ve seen that face before in the subway, all over the television, all over the internet. Oh fuck.

“Thanks. I have to go,” you blurt out and slink away from him.

“Wait!” he shouts after you, but you keep moving through the crowd to your friends.

When you get to the table where you’d all been gathered and grab your bag. You say a quick goodbye to Ahhyun, seeing that Rey and Jimin are way too wrapped up in each other to notice. You slip out the front door onto the cool, wet sidewalk. Luckily, the rain has stopped, so you can walk briskly toward your apartment, your shoes slapping against the wet pavement.

When you’re a little way away from the bar, you slow your walk slightly, trying to process what just happened. Tae, who is an idol, had just attempted to protect your honor in public. Why was he even there? Shouldn’t he be...dancing or something?

You’re not sure why you’re so angry at him just for being who he is. Your ego is a little bruised in that you thought this guy might actually be interested in you, but there was no way that someone like him was going to be interested in someone like you. You’d seen the female idols and movie stars; he could have anyone he wanted.

You shake your head to try to get the image of him with a beautiful super model, laughing about the girl at the bar who flirted with him like a child by being mean to him. The sound of feet on the wet sidewalk pulls your attention away from your thoughts. You turn around, and you cannot believe your eyes. Tae is walking briskly toward you.

“You’re kidding me, right?” you blurt out, hoping he isn’t within earshot.

“Look, I know we don’t really know each other, but I felt like I connected with you in a way that I haven’t with other people,” he huffs out. “Plus, you didn’t look at me differently when you saw my face. I mean...you did, but it was almost disappointment on your face. You have to know how rare that is for me, right?”

You feel the corners of your mouth tugging back. You didn’t want to admit how beautiful you thought he was or that you thought his sense of humor was funny, but it was true. You were glad that he was here because the way it felt to stand next to him was warm and real.

“I just don’t really know what you want from me,” you say as you turn your face away from him.

There’s no way that a famous idol is standing in front of you telling you that your disappointment made him feel good. You shake your head again.

“Just...hang out with me. Just one time. It will be casual, and I don’t expect anything from you, but it’s worth it to me to try to see if we can even have a friendship. I like you. I think you’re funny.”

You blush and push your hair behind your ear. You inhale and exhale deeply, trying to slow your thoughts. You don’t want anything about your life to be in the spotlight; you don’t want to be seen in public with an idol. You don’t want to have sasaeng fans who wish death upon you for just being near their “one true love.”

“I don't know. The kind of attention you get isn’t the kind that I want in my life. I don’t want everyone in Korea knowing who I am.”

His eyes drop slightly, and his shoulders sink a little lower. “You won’t have to have that kind of attention. We have ways to make sure that you aren’t seen. We can be really careful. Come over tomorrow. We can have dinner, and I can show you that you don’t have to be in the spotlight.”

You pause and sigh. “Fine.”

You can see the smile in his eyes, and you fish your phone out of your bag. You open Kakaotalk and hand it to him. He sends himself a message and hands it back to you.

“Trust me. This is going to be fun,” he says.

“I hope so. I gotta get home though. Have a goodnight, Tae,” you mutter awkwardly.

“Thanks, y/n. I will. Thanks.”

He walks away quickly, and he turns back and looks over his shoulder once before you turn and walk away from him toward home, smiling to yourself.

*****

“Kim Taehyung!”

The shout greets Tae in the hallway as he makes his way toward the practice room the next morning. He has a little bit of a headache from drinking too much, but he doesn’t let that get him down. Tae still feels the way that it felt to hold your hand in the bar. He doesn’t want to be dramatic or anything, but he feels like you might be his soulmate. He would never say that out loud though.

The voice down the hall belongs to his manager, Minjoon, who is looking at him with disappointment in his eyes.

"Kim Taehyung, I cannot believe that you slipped your team again and spent the whole night out. At a bar, Tae? Really? What if you'd been seen? What if you'd been mobbed by people?"

Tae smiles at him, with the dreamy look still in his eyes. "But I wasn't. And Jimin was out too!"

Minjoon rolls his eyes at Tae and leads him away by the wrist.

"Yes, but Jimin took the proper precautions, and he took Beomseok with him."

Tae rolls his eyes and begins to walk away. "I'm sorry, okay? I won't do it again."

His manager lets him walk away, and he feels a damper starting to fall on his good mood that he thought that nothing could ruin. He makes his way to the practice room and flops down on the floor. Jimin is in there practicing hard in the mirror, hair pushed back off of his forehead and sweat shining on his brow. He ignores Tae for a couple of minutes, focused on getting the correct moves down. Finally, he looks up and sees the lump that is Tae lying on the floor.

"What's wrong with you? I thought you had a good night last night?"

Tae flops over again, so he's turned toward the mirror, looking at Jimin's reflection in the eyes. He brings his hand up and runs it through his hair. He lets the memory of your scent sink into his brain for a moment.

"Sometimes I just get so sick of not being able to be a normal 24 year-old. Not have to take security everywhere. Not worry about the spotlight. Don't you?" he asks, feeling the desperation in his voice.

"Of course I do. My relationship would be so much easier if I was able to just be a normal guy, but I chose this life. I think that Rey loves me, so she knows that this is the way that things have to be. It can be hard some days, but it's the way it is. Plus, Minjoon-ssi shouldn't have yelled at you. Beomseok hyung was there."

Jimin walks across the room to where Tae is lying on the floor. He encourages him to stand up, and when he finally gets Tae off the floor, Jimin heads to the boombox and puts on the song "My My My" by Troye Sivan. Jimin starts dancing silly all around the room, beckoning Tae to come dance with him. Soon Tae is laughing with him, and the two are singing loudly and dancing wildly around the room. When the other members come into the room, Yoongi rolls his eyes, and Hoseok joins in dancing.

After practice, while they have time to eat lunch, Tae decides to go ahead and shoot his shot. He opens KakaoTalk and pulls up your messages. The only thing in there is a message from him to himself.

Hey, y/n, I was wondering if maybe you'd want to come over for dinner tomorrow?

Now, all that he can do is wait. Wait for you to read it. Wait for you to decide. Wait for you to respond. Even though his schedule is very busy lately with press and practices, he feels like waiting for you has been the most important thing that he's waited for in a long time.

As he waits, he eats his Kimbap quietly. Namjoon comes up to him and sits next to him.

"Hey, Tae, are you all right?" he asks gently.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"

"You've been really distracted all day. Just kind of smiling into space."

Tae takes a moment to think back to his effort in practice earlier, and he realizes that his hangover and daydreams have made him noticeably less engaged than usual. Shit.

"I'm sorry, Namjoon-hyung. I will get my head back into it." He hangs his head slightly as he says it. Maybe having you come over tomorrow was not the best idea.

Namjoon sighs and wraps his arm around Tae's shoulders. "Hey, I know how you get. Just...don't put everything into this one person, okay?"

Before Tae can question it, Namjoon has gotten up to take his bowl to the staff before they start work again. He turns and looks at Tae one more time before he leaves the room to head to the studio. Tae sighs deeply and throws his head back on his shoulders. What am I even doing? he thinks to himself.

Your name shows up on his screen when he's all but resigned himself to not hearing from you. When he opens the message, he doesn’t know what else he had expected from you.

Fine.

His heart leaps slightly in his chest at the thought of it, and he smiles at his phone. Instantly, his mind is darting between all the things he wants to do and all the arrangements that he wants to make for you. For the rest of the day, he feels like he works hard enough to make up for how much he was dragging in the morning.

*******

Be ready at 8:00. I'll send a car for you.

That's not ominous at all you think to yourself. You weren't sure if this was a good idea, but you suppose if anyone can figure out how to sneak around fans and paparazzi, it's the famous idol who simply rode the subway with you last night.

You curl your hair slightly and slap on a small amount of makeup. You don't want to look like you tried too hard, but you didn't want to look like a total schlub either. When you look at yourself in the mirror, you actually are impressed. Trying not to look too long, you pull yourself away from your reflection as you start scrutinizing that your eyeliner is slightly uneven on each side. The last time that you'd done that, you had ended up with half of each of your eyelids covered in black liquid liner, and you'd had to remove the entire look at start over.

You had sent Tae your address the day before, so you assumed that you should just wait outside for the driver. The elevator ride down from your apartment is long and slow. You realize how mildewy and old the elevator smells, even though your building was built in the 80s. When the doors of the elevator slide open, you see a black town car with black tinted windows sitting in front of the front doors of your building.

You had never seen a car with such dark tint on the windows, but this must be the kind of car that Tae has to ride in all of the time to avoid being seen. You walk up to the car, your flats making your steps nearly silent through the lobby. You see your reflection in the pitch black car. A white crop top and a purple pair of cut off shorts with flats on your feet. The outfit had seemed like a perfect summer outfit that flattered all the right parts of your body without looking like you were trying too hard to be fancy or dressed up for a "date."

For all you knew, this wasn't even a date. It was just two people hanging out. While you were lost in thought, the driver of the car came around and stood next to the rear door.

"Miss y/n?" he asked in such a formal tone, that you felt taken aback. No one ever talked to you so formally. You were the youngest in your team at work, and you were so used to being everyone's dongsaeng that you didn't know what to do with all the respect he was giving you.

"Yes, thank you," you blurt out awkwardly.

He opens the door for you, and you clamber in. The ride is almost 45 minutes with traffic, there's always traffic in Seoul. You have plenty of time to think about all the ways that this could go wrong. Think about how you're going to see your face on all the gossip sites tomorrow. You hardly let yourself relax or breathe as you sit in the car. Maybe it won't be so bad. Or maybe it will be a nightmare.

Finally, the car reaches the first gate of an apartment complex, and the driver gives the man at the gate his idea. The security office records it in a big binder and waves him on.

"You'll need to get out your ID for the second gate, miss," he says back to you.

You fish your ID out of your bag and hand it up to him as he pulls up to the second gate. He hands the IDs to the security officer, who enters the information into his computer and wishes you both a good night. Wow. You didn't know what you expected, but it wasn't this. It makes sense though.

The car pulls into the garage, and after parking, the driver leads you through the concrete labyrinth. You have to check in at the front desk too and be led by someone else in a black suit to the elevator and up to the apartment.

When you get to the door, he knocks in a unique pattern and waits a moment before Tae swings the door open.

"y/n! Hi!" he exclaims. He is beaming, and the smile spread across his face is infectious.

Shit. He's so beautiful.

He leads you into the apartment where there is a chef in the kitchen who barely looks up at you. There is one man sitting in the living room, and no one else to be seen. The man on the couch turns around and grins at you, popping up out of his seat. His eyes scrunch up slightly as he smiles at you. Shit. He's so beautiful too.

"Hi, I'm Jungkook," he says as he extends his hand out to you.

You shake it, blushing. "hi, I'm y/n."

Tae seems to see the blush in your cheeks, and he puts his body slightly between you and Jungkook. You smile to yourself at the possessiveness and jealousy that he seems to feel for his roommate.

"Jungkook was just leaving. Weren't you?"

You laugh out loud at the obvious "hint" that Tae is trying to drop. Jungkook laughs too, and the two of you make eye contact.

"Actually, I wasn't. I was just going to hang out and watch TV for a little while." He gives Tae a teasing look, and Tae flushes from his neck up to his cheeks. There's a small pleading look in his eye. It must be hard for him because his whole life is surrounded by people, even though some of them are his friends.

"Oh, you know what? I actually told Laur that I would call her tonight, and I should probably go do that because I love her." Jungkook trails off slightly, making long hard eye contact with Tae. "it was nice to meet you, y/n. Have fun!"

Jungkook disappears into one of the doors down the hall. You turn to Tae after you watch Jungkook make his way away from you. Tae has a slightly hurt look in his eyes, but he tries to hide it from you with a smile.

"What? What's wrong?" you ask.

"No. Nothing. I just don't want you to feel like you can't hang out with the other members if you want to."

You grab the sides of his face and make him look at you. "I'm here for you. I agreed to hang out with you, not them."

He smiles at this and leads you to the couch. It's a huge sectional that takes up most of the room, and you follow his lead in sitting right in the middle, leaving a little space between the two of you. You are still hesitant and don't know him well. You aren't trying to cuddle up on the couch with him just yet.

He grabs the remote to turn on the TV. On the screen are the titles of literally hundreds of movies.

"We can watch whatever you want," he says in a more normal and steady tone than you've heard from him since you were on the train.

"Why don't you pick?"

He smiles huge, and from the look in his eyes as he reads each of the titles, he is in his element. Ultimately, he selects Midnight In Paris. Before he hits play, he looks at you to confirm his decision. You nod toward him gently and smile up at him. He's taller than you remember, even sitting next to you.

You watch the movie, laughing along at Owen Wilson, until the chef in the kitchen announces that food is ready. He graciously brings it to you, and there is so much to choose from you don't know what to choose. Kimchi jjigae, oi kimchi, samgyeopsal, galbi, and tons of other food are spread out on the coffee table in front of you.

"I don't know what you like...so I told him to just make some of everything. I figured you can't go wrong with the staples."

Tae sounds nervous, but it looks amazing. There's no way you could pass up a meal like this. The two of you lean over the table, watching the movie and laughing, and eat way more food than you had planned on eating.

Once you're finished, you lean back onto the couch, certain that you're going to fall asleep. Already, this has been so nice, but you realized that you've hardly talked to Tae at all. Your plan was to come here and get to know Tae better to decide if spending time with him was worth the struggle.

When the movie ends, Tae turns to you to ask what you think of the movie. You hesitate for a second.

“It’s not that I didn’t like it, but...Woody Allen?” you know you shouldn’t be starting into it the first time you’re hanging out.

His jaw drops slightly, but after a brief discussion, he agrees that it’s hard to separate the art from the artist and there are amazing directors who haven’t done even half of the terrible shit he did. You were impressed with his maturity, and you decided that you’d definitely give him a chance.

“Would you like a glass of wine?” he asks as you sit awkwardly in silence after that discussion.

You can’t think of a single reason that you should say no, and a glass of wine sounds delicious. “Yeah,” you smile. “Why not?”

Tae heads into the kitchen, and when he returns, you laugh at the comical size of the wine glass. It is roughly the size of your head, and even though it’s only half full, it is roughly the amount of two or three glasses of wine. 

“What? These are the only glasses we have,” he laughs along with you as he sets them down.

After you’ve had the entirety of one glass of wine, you are feeling lighter and looser and less awkward. You forget about the fact that Tae is one of the most famou men in the country, and you are just hanging out with your friend. The two of you talk about your childhoods and exchange embarrassing stories from high school.

You don’t feel yourself scooting closer to Tae, or maybe he’s scooting closer to you. His face is just a few inches from your face by the time you realize it, but you don’t want to move away from him.

“I’ve had a really good time with you, tonight, y/n,” he whispers, leaning even closer to you.

You can feel his breath on your lips, and you can smell his skin and his breath. The smell of the Cabernet mixed with lavender and vanilla, and it’s more intoxicating than any drink that you’ve had. The condensation his hot breath leaves on your lips makes your skin tingle. 

“I’ve had such a wonderful time, Tae.”

You close even more of the space between the two of you. There’s less than an inch in between your mouths. You can’t stop your lips from darting down to his mouth. Shit. He’s so beautiful. His mouth is a perfect pout with his pillowy lips tinted slightly darker red from the wine. When you look back up at him, his eyes are on your mouth too. You can see him tracing every curve of your lips. Your heart pounds in your ears at the thought of kissing him, touching him.

Tae moves to close the distance between the two of you. Your lips ghost across each other, but before you can fully feel the rose petals of his, you hear a key in the lock. You feel like a teenager being caught by your parents, so you jump back from him, putting at least a foot of space between you and Tae.

Tae turns toward the door and the gorgeous, thin-framed man coming through the door. Behind him is a tall, blonde girl who is stunning. Tae’s face is flushed from the wine and the embarrassment of the moment.

“Hi Yoongi-hyung,” Tae mutters as he averts his eyes. “Hi Soph.”

The man hardly acknowledges Tae, but the woman sends a warm smile Tae’s way. “Hi, Tae! How’s your date?”

Your eyes widen at the word date, and you choke slightly on the breath that you were taking in at the moment. Her eyes dart toward you, and she immediately turns pink. She immediately becomes awkward, and Yoongi turns toward her and laughs at the blush in her cheeks.

“Well, this has been sufficiently uncomfortable.” Yoongi turns to you. “Hi, I’m Yoongi. This is my girl, Soph.”

“Hi. I’m y/n, and I am, indeed, sufficiently uncomfortable.”

Yoongi laughs and then leads Soph down the same hallway that Jungkook disappeared into, entering a different door.

After they’ve been out of sight for a moment, you turn back to Tae and say, “I should actually probably head out,” rubbing your arm awkwardly, still warm in your cheeks.

Tae calls the car for you, and a few minutes later, the rhythmic little knock on the door tells you it’s time to go. Tae walks you to the door, and before it opens, he leans in and presses his lips to your cheek. A huge smile spreads across your face, and you’re sure the security agent can tell that something just happened between the two of you.

On the way out of the gates, you can see through the tinted windows the young women gathered around outside of the gates in a contained area. They are holding signs and wearing t-shirts with Tae’s name and face on them. It gives you an uneasy feeling in your stomach, but once you’re past them, you can’t help the warm feeling that is bubbling inside of you from the night.

*****

“You didn’t even kiss her?” Jimin asks, exasperated as he sits on the couch next Tae. The two sip wine together while the television plays in the background.

Tae groans and throws his head back, hand on his forehead. “I tried, but Yoongi-hyung ruined it. He came in right when I was going to.”

Jimin starts giggling uncontrollably, eyes shut tight. His laugh is infectious, and no matter how much Tae doesn’t want to laugh at his own misery, he can’t help but laugh that of course it was Yoongi who interrupted. Any of the other members would have been cool about it, but Yoongi just had to make a sarcastic comment. The two laugh for a long time, the wine pulsing through their veins. Taehyung feels grateful that they don’t have to work early tomorrow, but this was not the end to the night that he had hoped for.

Taehyung had an image in his head of him kissing you, fingers laced into your hair. He imagined what it would feel like to have your lips against his, the smoothness of them and how pert they are. You would have leaned closer to him and run your fingers over his neck. He would have slowly moved his hand up your leg, feeling your skin up to the frayed hem of your shorts.

Tae feels himself hardening in his loose linen pants and adjusts himself awkwardly. The thing about these loose flowy pants is that while sitting down, they don’t hide anything. He looks over to make sure that Jimin didn’t see, and when he’s confident that he didn’t, he relaxes slightly.

“I’m going to though,” he states.

“You’re going to what?” Jimin asks.

“I’m going to kiss her. I’m going to make her mine.” A smile stretches across his lips, and he sinks back into the couch to watch the rest of the show with Jimin.

*******

Three weeks after hanging out at Tae’s, you are sitting at your desk looking over an expense report that someone messed up the spreadsheet for. Everything in one of the columns is one row off, and you are trying to fix it and all of the equations.Your phone vibrates next to you, and you welcome the distraction from the tedious work.

You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face as you see Tae’s name appear on the screen. Though you hadn’t seen him in person since the day that you went to his place, you were able to text everyday and video chat a few times. Things with Tae felt simple, like he was your oldest friend in the world. You couldn’t believe how well he knew you even after such a short time of knowing you.

Tae: Tonight?

What a vague message. What did he want tonight? To video chat? To hang out? For you to do your laundry?

You: Tonight will be Thursday night, yes.

You are always a little sassy with him, and he dishes it right back. The dynamic that you’ve built between the two of you is natural. You’re pretty sure this what people mean when they say that two people have chemistry, though you’ve never really understood the expression.

Tae: Oh thank goodness. I thought it was Saturday, and I’m busy Saturday.

Tae: Since it’s Thursday, do you want to hang out tonight?

You smile. You’ve been looking forward to seeing Tae since the last time, and you want to be able to pick up where you’d left off before Yoongi had interrupted the two of you. After video chatting with Tae several times, you learned that’s just sort of Yoongi’s M.O. if he interrupts anything. Be awkward and sarcastic then move on. A solid technique.

You: I guess I can pencil you in.

Tae: Excellent. Be ready at 6.

You look at the clock, and it reads 3:30pm. You only have 2.5 hours before you’re supposed to do god knows what with Tae, and you know that you are not looking your best. You figure you can leave at 4:00 if your boss doesn’t see you and you ask Aecha to cover for you.

When she agrees, you thank her profusely, slip your purse off the back of your chair, and head out the door. You get out without any trouble and walk briskly toward your apartment building. Your head is swimming with the idea of seeing Tae and the possibilities for the evening. You’re trying not to get too ahead of yourself, but all you can see in your mind’s eye is the shape of his body.

It’s been months since you were even interested in a man. You’re most recent ex, Yongsoon, had been a delightful man, but he was so boring and predictable. You never felt challenged by him. You never felt like he was that passionate about anything. You’d ended things, and even during the break up, he’d seemed so apathetic about the whole thing.

Tae didn’t feel like that. He was bright and vibrant. He had so many passions, from art to film to fashion. He made you feel like you could shine as bright, reach as high as you wanted. He also made you feel like you wanted to see what was underneath his whole clothes.

You shake your head as you unlock the door to your apartment. Stop being lustful, y/n! You rush around your apartment, trying to make your hair and make up look better. You decide that tonight, you’d like to wear a skirt. In the heat of mid June, you wanted to be able to move freely. Plus you loved the way that your black skater skirt swished when you walked or twirled. On top, you wear a purple shirt, tied up at the waist.

When your phone turns over to 6:00, you take one last look in the mirror, grab your bag, and try not to sprint down the stairs. Outside, once again, you can see the black town car with tinted windows waiting for you. The sight of it makes your heart leap a little, and you smile again. Everything about Tae makes you smile.

The driver meets you at the rear door, and he lets you into the vehicle. Expecting it to be empty, you jump a little upon seeing a figure inside. Sitting on the driver's side seat, Tae is wearing black slacks, a button up shirt, and beret-type hat. He has his mask pulled down around his chin, and he’s beaming at you. You climb in next to him, mumbling a hello as you get comfortable.

“Didn’t expect me to be here, did you?” he asks, with a sly grin on his face.

“I honestly didn’t know what to expect. You just told me to be ready. You didn’t even tell me what.”

He laughs, amused at his own vagueness. “It’s best if you only know what you need to know.”

“Well, can I know where we’re going now?”

He smirks at you and then announces, “We’re going to Ihwa Mural Village!”

He can’t be serious. A public place? While it’s light outside? With an idol? You start to panic as you think about all the possibilities of things that could go wrong. He could get rushed by people. You could get hurt. He could get hurt. It was far too risky.

Seeing the panic in your eyes, he blurts, “Don’t worry! I went the safe route this time. I have security who are going to be there, and we should be in the clear. They’ve cleared it out for a filming. We did everything we needed to keep us safe.”

You relax slightly, but you still know that people crowd around movie sets and things like that on the street. You know that Tae would never do anything to intentionally hurt you, but you are terrified.

“Hey,” he grabs your hand and squeezes it with his. “It’s going to be okay, I promise.”

The feeling of his warm palm in yours is comforting and feels like home. You wiggle your fingers slightly, just to take in the sensation of each of his between each of yours. 

“Okay. I trust you,” you mutter, trying to believe your own words.

The car pulls up into an area that you’ve seen before and know is usually crowded. This time, there are only three men outside, all wearing black jeans. Tae pulls up his mask and pulls down the brim of his hat. You pull your mask over your face, wishing you’d known to bring a hat with you today, but hoping everything would be fine.

After a while of walking on the deserted street, looking at murals, making jokes, and taking pictures, you get lost in the moment with Tae. You let yourself breathe into the way that his hand feels in yours, the warmth of his body next to yours. His scent is soft and subtle, just like him.

After about an hour of walking around Ihwa, he asks if you’re hungry. You smile broadly at him, but quickly realize that half of your face is covered with cloth. 

“Yes, I am starving!” you exclaim, feeling the hunger pangs in your stomach for the first time. You had been so distracted with Tae that you forgot that you hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

Tae laughs, and he leads you back to where the car was parked. The driver lets both of you into the car, and Tae thanks him by name. He slides over to the seat in the middle and wraps his fingers around your knee while you ride together. You feel him slowly creeping closer to you, and you know that if you turn it’s all over. Isn’t this what you want?

While driving through a tunnel, you turn your face to see Tae’s. His eyes are searching your face, and you can’t resist it anymore. You move toward him and press your lips to his. It’s soft and sweet, and he moves his mouth slowly, positioning his bottom lip between yours. You shift slightly, so you can turn toward him more. He wraps his hands into your hair, running his fingers along your scalp. Your hand traces its way over his shirt along his collarbone. You can feel the heat growing between your legs, but you become aware of the third person in the car.

You pull away, panting slightly, and drop your head, cheeks burning. You can’t wipe the stupid grin off of your face if you wanted to, but you don’t care because the way that Tae’s mouth felt against yours is burned into your brain forever. You’ll never forget how he melted like chocolate on your lips. Or how he tickled your scalp just right while his exhales made the peach fuzz on your face stand on end. Your senses feel heightened after kissing him, and you know that you want to do it again.

The two of you ride the rest of the way in silence, with your fingers entwined on top of your knee, and you can’t help but think that this is maybe the beginning of something wonderful.

When you get to the gate of the apartment complex, you try not to look at the crowd of people who are wondering if Tae is in fact inside this car. You pull your ID out of your wallet, and Tae pushes your hand down.

“You only have to do that when you aren’t with me.”

Once inside, he leads you to the apartment. Before he opens the door, he turns you around to face him. You’re looking up at his perfect face. He is so smooth and symmetrical, and you feel so homely next to him. He plants his hands on the wall behind either side of your head, and he leans down to you. He gives you a quick kiss on the forehead. Then the nose. Then each cheek. Then the lips. It’s so soft and sweet that you think you’re going to melt or explode or both.

He unlocks the door and leads you inside. In the kitchen, a chef is preparing food again.

“Dude, how do you do that?” you gawk at the man working in the kitchen.

“Do what?” He follows your eye line and laughs. “Oh, Bonhwa-ssi? I texted in the car. He works for us, and he’s the greatest guy ever.”

Bonhwa looks at the two of you briefly, then he goes back to chopping and preparing. You can see that this meal is a little different from the last one, but you are so excited to eat anything that your mouth starts to water.

The two of you hang out at the dining room table until Bonhwa brings over the hamburgers and sides he’s prepared. Tae is smiling at his food, and you get to see him just as he is. One bite in, and you know that you’ve never had a hamburger this good before. You try to force yourself not to eat too fast, but you can only restrain yourself so much because it is so good.

After you eat, the two of you sit at the table just staring at each other for a while. You feel a little sleepy, but you don’t want to miss a moment with Tae.

“Do you want to see my room?” Tae asks awkwardly.

You aren’t sure if he genuinely wants to show you his room or if this is his awkward attempt at getting you into a more private space. On both fronts, you are more than happy. You want to see the inward private space that’s kept only for Tae, not for the public figure. And you would be more than happy to have some private time with Tae because you can’t stop thinking about the way he felt against you.

You nod, and he pushes back his chair from the table. He helps you up onto your feet and leads you by the hand down the hallway. He opens the third door in the hallway, and upon entering the room, you feel Tae in every inch of the room. In the corner are canvases, blank and painted, stacked in the corner, and an easel stands tall above them. A desk sits in the other corner, scattered with pens and pencils. It looks like he’s been brainstorming or planning or writing, and to the small messes side there is a nice desktop computer. You don’t know too much about gaming computers, but you do know when you see a nice one. This one is definitely a nice one.

His bed is made with a gray comforter on top, and there are lamps on either bedside table. He flicks them on quickly and shuts off the overhead light.

“I hope you don’t mind. I just like the ambient light better,” he says quietly, making his way across the room to you.

Every picture in the room draws your attention. There’s one large painting on the wall. It looks like an acrylic painting done with a palette knife. It’s beautiful, and the muted colors swirl together to create intricate patterns.

“This is so beautiful, Tae. Did you do this?”

He chuckles a little and sneaks in behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. “I wish. No, I bought this one. I hope someday to be able to do that.”

Seeing the things that Tae loves and hearing his aspirations as an artist fill your heart with warmth. His fingers sneak along the top hem of your skirt, tickling your skin and make you shiver in place. You let him continue to do it, and you drop your head back against his shoulder.

He pulls you closer against him, your back flush against his chest, and you can feel the growing stiffness in his pants against your ass. You smile. Knowing that you made Tae excited like that causes your chest to swell with pride. 

He has the option of any woman in Korea and probably the world, and he is choosing you right now. His fingers continue to dance along the skin of your waist and the top of your skirt. They slowly dip under the waistband, tracing small circles under the fabric. You can’t control the small moan that leaves your mouth when his fingers creep into the waistband of your panties.

He exhales sharply, and you feel him press against you. His other hand makes its way to the bottom of your shirt and ghosts underneath the cotton. You are rapt in the smell and the feel of him. You never want anything but his soft skin to be touching you again.

“Is this okay?” he whispers into your ear before he continues.

“Yes, it’s so much more than okay.” You turn your head, and your lips find one another. This time the kiss is desperate and pleading. It feels like if you don’t kiss him without enough passion, he won’t know how badly you want him. All of your desires try to escape off your tongue, dancing against his. Your hands try to find purchase on his hips, and you grip him on the top of his pants. One hand slides to the bulge that’s pressing against his pants and against you. His cock is hard and thick, and you immediately feel wetness pooling in your panties the second you touch it.

All you can think is how badly you want that cock in your hand, in your mouth, in your pussy. You want all of him tonight, even though you know it’s a little improper. Tae’s fingers dip all the way into your panties while the other hand finds your nipple. He gently pinches it between his index finger and thumb. He rolls it carefully, and the arousal shooting to your core is almost overwhelming. His other hand is tracing small circles through the wetness between your legs. He slides his fingers up and down your slit from your entrance to your clit. He moans a deep, low groan into your neck.

His wrap around the skin on your neck, teeth nipping at you. His breath is hot on your neck, and you lean further into him. He slips one finger into your entrance, and you inhale sharply. He begins a slow pace with his finger inside of you, just barely giving you what you crave before pulling back out again.

His teasing sets you off. You turn around to him and kiss him hard, caressing his tongue with yours. You drop to your knees before him and glance up at him, smiling, before your fingers undo the button on his slacks. Once you have his pants undone, you yank them to the floor. His cock is pleading to escape the confines of his underwear and who are you to deny it. When you pull him out, your mouth immediately waters at the sight of it. It’s thick and smooth, and you cannot wait any longer to have it inside of you. 

You let one droplet of spit fall slowly from your mouth onto the shaft of his cock. You use your tongue to swirl the wetness around it, making him slick for you to take him all the way in. Your hand wraps around the base, and, as you look up into his eyes, you slide him into your mouth. With his cock inside your mouth, you use your tongue to massage the head, slowly flicking it around the tip. Tae groans.

His hand slides into your hair, gripping it firmly. You bob your head up and down slowly, taking in all that you can, using your hand to rub it up and down as you take it into your throat. You press your face against his pubic bone, the hair tickling your nose slightly, and Tae’s hips thrust slightly further down your throat. You gag around him, and he moans again. You moan around him, knowing the vibration will feel good, plus you are so beyond turned on.

You feel his cock pulse slightly in your mouth, hardening further. He pants and uses your hair to pull your mouth away from him.

“Fuck, you make me feel so good. I’m going to cum too fast.”

You smile at his words, using your tongue to wipe the spit off of your fingers. His eyes widen and he pulls you up to his level. “Get over here.”

Tae picks you up and throws you gently against the bed. He stands above you and rips his shirt off over his head, tossing it aside. His fingers slide up your thighs and loop around the waistband of your panties. He pulls them off, leaving your skirt on.

“You’ve been teasing me all day in this skirt, haven’t you? You knew how good you looked in it when you were getting dressed.” He’s panting a little and his hair is sticking to his forehead slightly at the sweaty spots.

The gruffness of his voice and his words are making you a wanton mess for him. You know that you look good in this skirt. You know that it’s pretty short and shows off your legs. You, however, did not know that it would have this effect on Tae. With your panties thrown aside, he pulls your shirt over your head, revealing the lilac lace bralette that you have on underneath.

“Fuck,” Tae whispers to himself, eyes raking over every inch of your tits.

Tae climbs on top of you and plants his lips against your neck. He’s teasing the delicate skin and leaving little nips all over your chest and collarbone. His mouth makes its way down to your breasts, and he pulls each one gingerly out of the cups of the bralette. He marvels at them for a moment  then takes your right nipple into his mouth. You moan immediately, having extra sensitive nipples.

“Tae,” you moan out, hand lacing into his long dark hair. “Please.”

He looks up at you smiling. “Please what, darling?”

“Please....” you’re a little embarrassed to say, but you’re too turned on to care. “Please fuck me.”

He growls in his chest and pushes himself away from you. At first you think that you’ve offended him, but then he opens the drawer of his bedside table. He pulls out a condom, holds it up, and smiles at you. You take it from his hand, tearing the packaging to get the little latex shield out. Rolling it on to his cock, you can feel how hard he is, and you get even more aroused, looking at it and feeling it.

Once the condom is in place, Tae lies you back on the bed. He aligns himself with your entrance, and before he pushes himself inside of you, he asks, “You’re sure this is okay?”

You blush slightly because you did just moments ago beg him to fuck you, but you smile up at him. “Yes, Tae. I am so so okay with this. Please.”

He smiles and pushes himself slowly inside of you. Your eyes meet his as he hovers above, his eyes growing in intensity. His thrusts are rhythmic and deliberate, and you can’t believe that you feel like you’re going to cum already. Your fingers claw at his back, and you know that you’re leaving little scratch marks behind.

Soon, he pulls his cock almost all of the way out of you and thrusts it back inside, less gently than before. Your hands, unable to control themselves, grip firmly on his arms. You can feel how wide your eyes are, and you gasp for air as he does it again. Your head is growing foggy, and you feel yourself hurtling toward your orgasm, unstoppable. 

Your pussy pulses around his cock, and Tae moans out your name. The sound of your name falling off his lips while he’s inside you is enough to send you over the edge. You feel the muscles in your pussy contracting, and your clit feels like it’s covered in warmth. The orgasm tears through you, and your mind goes completely blank, only pleasure exists.

“Fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight,” Tae pants out. As you come down from your orgasm, he starts thrusting faster and less rhythmically.

“Cum for me, Tae. Please,” you say, and that’s all it takes to send Tae over the cliff. He moans deeply and spills inside of the condom with his buried deep inside of you. His breathing is rough and jagged, and you can feel all of his muscles clenching. You run your fingernails gently over his back as he comes down. The two of you stay there wrapped in each other for a moment.

With a sigh, Tae pulls his softening cock out of you. He slips the condom off and tosses it into the trash. “Stay here,” he says and disappears into the bathroom.

At this moment, you’re very glad that all the guys don’t have to share one bathroom. When he returns, it looks like he’s washed his face and gotten all the wetness off his cock. He tosses you a warm, wet cloth.

“You can use that bathroom if you need to.” He points from where he just came, and you smile at him, popping up off the bed to go take care of yourself.

When you come back out of the bathroom, Tae is standing there in his underwear, looking much more shy than his behavior just minutes ago.

“Just so you know, I wasn’t planning on that happening. I don’t want you to feel like I just brought you here for that.” He rubs the back of his neck and looks at you through his eyelashes.

“Tae, it’s okay. I really enjoyed it.”

“I just don’t want you to think that I’m just trying to use you or something. I’m not like that. I really care about you.”

You don’t know how to comfort him or make him feel validated. You hadn’t at any point in time thought that he might be using you. You’d been having filthy thoughts about him since the train ride that first night. You cross the room to him and throw your arms around him. Your fingers run through his hair at the nape of his neck.

“Tae, I asked you to fuck me. I wanted this more than I care to admit. You looked so good in that outfit today. I couldn’t help myself.”

He wraps his fingers into your hair and pulls your head back gently. He angles your head so that your mouth is free for him to kiss. He presses his mouth hard against yours. Your lips are swollen and bitten, but you kiss him back with all the affection that you're feeling. You part your lips for his tongue as it snakes back into your mouth. You feel yourself getting aroused again, and you laugh into Tae’s mouth.

“Tae, I worked all day. I kind of want to just take it easy,” you say against his mouth, immediately regretting it when his breath is no longer on your lips.

He laughs and pulls you into a hug then lets go. He walks over and picks up your shirt for you. You still have your skirt sitting on your hips where he left it, and you adjusted your bra in the bathroom. With your shirt adjusted on you, you watch Tae put on a shirt and a pair of loose comfy pants.

“Want to watch a movie?” he asks.

You smile up at him, taking his hand. “As long as it isn’t Woody Allen.”

***

After that night in Tae’s bedroom, whenever the two of you are together, you struggle to keep your hands off of each other. Whether you’re in the kitchen at the apartment, in the car together, or in Taehyung's room, you are touching each other somehow.

Being with Tae feels amazing when you’re together, but it’s hard because he is so rarely around, and you can’t have normal dates with him. After about 3 months of talking, you’ve only seen each other a few times. You feel grateful for the time that you have with him, but half the time he is too exhausted to do more than lie on the couch or in his bed together.

You love the way that Tae makes you feel, but you don’t love the way that you feel when you see him on some gossip site. You know they’re just fishing for whatever story they can get, and his name gets clicks. It still doesn’t feel good. You have mixed feelings about everything in your relationship, but you keep it to yourself.

One Friday afternoon, Tae texts you to make plans for the weekend. You see the text, but you are swamped with work and ignore it. Two hours later, he texts you again, asking if you’re angry with him.

You: No. I’m not angry. I’m just busy. What’s the plan?

Tae: I’ll pick you up at 7 tonight. I’m taking you to dinner.

Tae: AND BONUS! You can stay over tonight if you want.

You haven’t been able to stay the night at Tae’s place throughout your whole relationship because he has manager’s coming in early every morning. The other member’s girlfriends tend to leave around the same time that you do, and you’ve made friends with some of them. You feel your heart flip slightly as you read the words. You smile to yourself, trying to plan what cute jammies you’re going to take and then not wear.

When Tae picks you up, you’re wearing a dress with lace panties underneath. You made yourself up a little bit, but you figured you didn’t need to dress too nicely since dinner with Tae was always just at his house. When the driver, Beoseon, opens the door, you are taken aback by the site of Tae in a suit. He looks deadly, and you feel sinful just looking at him.

“Wow. I feel underdressed,” you say as you kiss his cheek.

“No way. You look amazing!” he says as he gives you a cheeky look that you have grown to recognize from him. “I have a special plan for us tonight.”

The two of you are all smiles in the car, hands searching each other. You hook your fingers into the waistband of his trousers, and you sneak your way into his pubic hair, resting at the base of his cock. You don’t wrap your hand around it, don’t grab on to it. Instead, you just run your fingernails gently over the skin through the hair. Teasing Taehyung is one of your favorite things because he’s normally silly and mild mannered, but as soon as he gets aroused, he becomes a determined little demon.

Tae sits still, smirking over at you while you tease. You can feel him growing harder, but he doesn’t reveal any of it on his face. Working Tae up just means that things are going to be better for you later. You smile to yourself thinking of all the things that the two of you could do.

“So, what are we having for dinner tonight?” you ask casually, as your fingers caress his cock gently, and you look up at him.

“Like I said, I have something special planned. It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you. Though, if you keep that up, I’m gonna have something else in store for you too.”

The car turns a different way than it usually would to take you to Tae’s place, and you look at him with surprise. He has only taken you out the first time when you went to Ihwa Village. You’d had so much fun wandering around looking at the art with him, but you were worried about being in a public place. It was Friday night. Places would be busy. People would be walking wherever you went.

The car pulls into a service parking lot under the Horim Art Center, and you look at Tae confused. You go in through the employee entrance and take the elevator up. When you walk through the doors of the restaurant, the entire place is empty except a server, a bartender,and the kitchen staff. You turn to Tae and smile. He takes your hands in his and pulls you along to the table.

“Only the best for you, jagiya.”

The man leading you to the table pulls out a chair for you and then for Tae. This place is so fancy, and you feel a lot underdressed in your summer dress. You feel like this is the kind of place that you need to be dressed to the nines in high heels with your hair actually done instead of messily curled when you got home from work.

“Kim Taehyung, you did not tell me that I needed to be dressed for a place like this,” you glare at him.

He laughs. “y/n, you do not need to be dressed up. It’s just you and I here. We aren’t trying to impress anyone.”

“Well, maybe I’m trying to impress you,” you coo, trying to use your seductive tone on him.

Realizing that it’s just the two of you in the restaurant, you are determined to get him worked up. You slide your hand sneakily under your dress, and Tae quirks his eyebrow at you. You remove the black lace in one swift movement and the reach under the table to place it in Tae’s hand. It’s a little more awkward than you’d pictured, but it does the trick when the warm fabric hits his hand. You see his eyes widen at the feeling of them.

“Is someone feeling a little naughty?” he asks.

You wink at him and open your menu like nothing just happened. The food on the menu is all super expensive, and you are taken aback by the prices on it. You wouldn’t spend this much on dinner, opting instead to just go to the barbecue by your house. You look at Tae, and he’s smiling softly at you, an intimacy in his eyes that you haven’t seen before.

The waiter comes over and Tae orders wine for you, and you order your food.

“Tae, you shut down this whole restaurant just for me?”

“Of course not. That’s absurd.” When you cast him a confused look, he smiles. “I shut down the whole museum.”

You can feel the heat in your cheeks as the flattery overwhelms you. You know that he’s rich and famous and can do things like this but still.

“We can eat and take in some of the museum...then go back to your place maybe?” he asks.

What? What is happening? I thought he said you could stay the night with him, not him staying the night with you.

“What?” you blurt out after finishing your sip of wine.

“I’ve just never seen where you live. Not in person anyway. I just want to feel what it feels like in a space that you created.”

Your heart feels like it’s going to fucking explode. You absentmindedly start running your foot up the inside of Tae’s leg, and you reach for his hand across the table. He grabs yours loosely with one hand, and the other hand snags your foot and pulls it up toward his crotch. While the waiter delivers your food, Tae slides your shoe off, and you press your foot gently against the bulge in his pants. You can’t even start eating yet you are so focused on the way that Tae feels in your hand and against your foot.

You adjust the way that your fingers are intertwined and move both of your hands toward your mouth. Your tongue creeps out of your mouth, and you lick up the length of his pointer finger. With a satisfied little smile, you pull your fingers away and sink your whole mouth down onto the finger, sucking slowly up the length of it, staring into his eyes. There is a fire behind his eyes, and he growls a little under his breath.

“Filthy girl. We should eat dinner, and then you can tease me some more.”

“Though this food looks amazing, it’s not really what I’m craving right now, Tae,” you pout.

“Tell you what. If you eat your dinner like a good girl, you can come sit in my lap.”

Tae chuckles to himself, placing your foot on the floor, adjusting himself, and picking up his chopsticks to eat. He looks like he’s proud of the comment he’s just made, and you roll your eyes at him. You can’t deny that the comment sent heat straight to your core, but you don’t like proving him right.

You straighten your napkin in your lap and begin to eat. You look at him through your lashes, but you make sure to hold your posture perfectly like you are unaffected by his comment. The two of you eat silently for a few minutes before picking conversation back up.

When you finish eating, Tae takes you on a tour through the whole museum. He shows you all of his favorite exhibits, and the two of you spend much of the time laughing and kissing. You aren’t sure if he’s forgotten that he has your underwear in his pocket or if he’s just biding his time, but you love the little game that you’re playing.

By the end of the evening, your heart is full to bursting with the love for the man with you, and you don’t ever want to let go of his hand.

“Tae…” you pause.

He raises his eyebrows and looks at you with that curious, dark stare of his, and you feel like you’re going to melt.

“You feel like home.”

The smile that rips across his face feels like the first warm day of the spring. It wraps you up in its comfort, and you feel yourself falling even deeper for him in that moment. There are things about his life that you don’t love, but you know that you love him.

“y/n, no one has ever felt more like home to me than you do.”

You can’t control yourself, and you throw your arms around him, pulling him tightly against you while you kiss his lips. This kiss feels different, like the first kiss after saying I love you. But I love you means so many different things to so many different people, and the feeling of being home feels right to you.

Later that night, you are lying naked on Tae’s bed, hair tousled, feeling exhausted. You and Tae are having your designating scrolling time on your phones, and you hear him whisper, “Oh fuck.”

“What’s wrong?” you ask him softly, worried that something has come up with the band.

“I-I have to go.” He shoots up off the bed and throws a pair of pants on quickly before darting to the door.

You look flabbergasted at him, worried that something is really wrong.

“I’ll be back soon. I promise.”

He disappears out the door, and you’re left to wonder what you should even be doing.

*********

“This is so bad,” Tae groans as he holds his head.

He’s pacing in the kitchen while Jimin is trying to comfort him.

“Honestly, it can’t be that bad. The company will take care of it. There were only so many people there, they’re going to find who did it.”

“It’s….just...these pictures are bad, hyung. They’re really bad. Look.”

He hands his phone to Jimin whose eyes widen upon seeing the pictures on the screen. Tears are starting to roll down Tae’s cheeks, and he looks at Jimin wildly. Jimin wraps his arms around him and holds him closely. Neither man is really sure what to do.

On the screen of Tae’s phone are several slightly grainy photos of him in the restaurant earlier that night. Your face is completely visible, and your tongue is running along his finger in one of them. His finger is in your mouth in another.

“This is so bad,” he sobs out. “I can’t believe I did this to her.”

While Jimin is telling him to just breathe, you emerge from Tae’s room, hair messily thrown up. You look confused and as soon as you see the tears in Tae’s eyes, you run to him.

“y/n, I fucked up,” he whispers.

“Tae, it’s going to be okay. Shhh. Breathe through it. Tell me what happened.”

The way that you’re looking at him with so much concern in your eyes about something that he’s done to you, the last thing that he ever wanted to happen to you, something he promised wouldn’t happen. He can’t say it, so he just picks up his phone and hands it to you.

“What the-” you trail off as you look at the pictures retweeted by hundreds of thousands of people already.

Your face turns white as you look up from the screen at Tae. Your expression is grim, and he can’t tell if you’re angry or sad or numb. He’s so worried about what you’re going to say as you look at him. Instead of saying something, you turn and walk down the hall back into his room. He looks puzzled at the door, unsure what the hell you’re doing.

You return with your bag that you brought to stay the night and your phone in hand. You don’t look at him as you walk out the front door of the apartment.

“Wait, y/n, wait!” he shouts after you, taking off down the hallway.

Jimin catches him and holds him firmly in place, deceptively strong for his size.

“You have to let her go. You have to let her handle this on her own.”

The hot tears are gushing from Taehyung’s eyes, and he feels like a volcano of devastation is erupting out of him. He isn’t sure he’s ever sobbed this hard and definitely not in the last few years. His stupidity and carelessness caused you to be photographed with him. He is the reason that risque pictures of you are now online. He knows that the company will catch them, if they haven’t already, but it’s not consolation for the cost of losing you.

******

Your chest heaves as you ride in the back of the car. Beoseon is silent, but you can see his eyes flitting back to you in the rearview mirror every couple of minutes. You wish it wasn’t such a long trip home. You just want to get out and walk and feel the cool air on your face. This car is suffocating, the air inside stale and recycled. You ride in the back of the car until you can’t take it anymore. Beoseon pulls over and lets you out, and you take off briskly down the sidewalk.

You breathe in the humid midsummer air, and you think that this has to be a joke. Taehyung and Jimin had to be playing the worst prank of all time on you. He was going to call you any moment and tell you “gotcha! Jimin took them!”

It wasn’t though. You weren’t going to get that call because you say the tweet. You saw the retweets. You didn’t even want to think about the comments on it. You just want to go home and become one with your bed. You wonder if The Secret applies to becoming furniture.

You wonder to yourself why Tae hasn’t even texted you yet. You feel like this would be one of those things that he would continually text you about like that time that he thought he’d made you angry when you were arguing about mint chocolate ice cream. This was a much bigger thing than fucking ice cream, and now, radio silence.

You turn the corner, and the breeze against your skin feels calming. You can feel yourself sweating, and you realize you left your underwear at Tae’s house. You don’t even care. You left your dignity in the restaurant when you had your lips wrapped around his finger. How could you be so stupid? Nothing is private. Especially not when you’re with him.

The tears come again as you make your way up the stairs to your apartment. It’s only a matter of time before you’re getting calls from people. It doesn’t say your name anywhere, but you know how stan twitter works. They’ll find anyone and dox them.

Once in your apartment, you strip down and put on your comfiest sweater and sweatpants. The air conditioning makes you feel as chilly outside as you do inside. You can’t believe this is happening. You can’t believe you let this happen. You curl up on your bed on top of the covers and fall asleep, face wet from the tears soaking into your pillow.

You didn’t leave the house or go online all weekend. Instead opting to clean your entire apartment and reorganize your entire bedroom. You felt a little better being away from the situation. You felt worse knowing that Tae hadn’t called or texted at all. It seemed like he’d completely resigned himself to you leaving and wasn’t going to fight for you at all.

You had resigned yourself to showing your face at work on Monday, and you hoped that you would have a normal day. When you walked into the building, everything was completely normal, almost everyone ignoring you, and you feel hopeful.

The work day ends, and the only conversations that you’ve had have been about spreadsheets and the copier. You heave a sigh of relief as you walk outside. You never thought that it would be so easy to get away with dating an idol. Maybe his company took care of it? Maybe you were lucky, and no one recognized you.

Tuesday is a different story. It starts with glances from the other girls in the office.

Wednesday, Aecha comes up to you and stares at you for a minute before you turn to her.

“Can I help you with something?” you ask, thinking maybe she needs help with a task.

“Do you really know Kim Taehyung?” she asks, eyes wide, nervously holding onto her left arm with her right.

You roll your eyes. You knew this couldn’t last.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, with no expression on your face.

“There are just these pictures and...they really look like you.”

Her nervousness is palpable, and you feel your hands getting clammy. You had already decided that if anyone asked about it you would deny deny deny.

“Well, maybe I’ve just got one of those faces.” You shrug and turn back to your computer.

Aecha stares at you for a moment longer, but then she sighs a nevermind and walks away. After she’s gone, you let out an exhale of relief, but you are hoping that she’ll spread the word to the rest of the women at the office. You hope that no one thinks it’s you. Such lewd behavior in public could lead to you being fired.

That night is when the notifications start. Thousands of them every hour. Eventually, you turn your phone on to airplane mode just to get away from them. This. This is what you were afraid of. You decide not to read of the messages, fearing that the content could be detrimental to your already fragile psyche.

You get a phone call from your boss telling you that you should probably take the rest of the week off, and the two of you will talk about next steps when you return on Monday. You knew at that moment that your life wouldn’t be the same. You wished you had someone to talk to about it. That’s when you remember that Rey has been seeing Jimin for almost a year. There’s no way that she hasn’t been exposed if you have after a few months.

You find her number in your contacts. Afraid to turn on your phone, you hesitate slightly then swipe the screen to allow connectivity. You ignore all the badges on every app you have and call her.

You can hear voices in the background when you call her, but she sounds relieved to hear from you.

“y/n hi!” she exclaims, a little too eagerly upon picking up.

“Hey, do you have a minute to talk?”

“Of course I do,” she says to you. You hear her whisper off to the side, “shut up, it’s y/n.”

There are muffled whispers on the other end. “Oh, I can talk to you later if you’re busy.”

“No, no. I’m not busy. I want to talk to you.”

“Did you hear about the pictures?” you ask meekly. 

“I did. Yeah. I saw. I’m so sorry, y/n. How are you holding up?”

“I honestly don’t know what to think. I don’t feel that bad about it in general. I haven’t read any of the messages, and I haven’t had too much happen in person either. The worst part is that I haven’t even talked to Taehyung since that night. I just don’t even know where we stand. Is he embarrassed? Is he in trouble? Does he want nothing to do with me anymore? I thought I knew what I wanted, but it’s hard when I have no one to talk to about it.”

She pauses for a moment, and you look down at your phone to see if you dropped the call.

“All I can say is this. It’s going to be hard and trying and challenging. Sometimes he’s going to be gone for months at a time. Sometimes he’s going to be too tired to talk. Sometimes people who think they’re meant to be with him are going to hate you. I decided that it didn’t matter. As long as I had Jimin, I could make it through anything. I loved him too much to not fight for him.”

Her words hit you in your heart, and you immediately start crying. You thank her and hang out the phone. You lie down on your bed staring at the ceiling for a long time, and you aren’t sure at what point you drift off to sleep.

*****

“Kim Taehyung!” a shout echoes down the hallway.

“Why is everyone always yelling my fucking name?” Tae grumbles to himself.

He stands up from his bed, dressed messily, face unshaven. When he gets to the hallway, Jimin, Jungkook, and their girlfriends are all standing around in the dining room, staring at him.

“Did I hear that you have called or text y/n AT ALL since the night that she walked out of here?” Jungkook demands. Even though he’s the youngest, his tone is commanding and dark. If anyone knows about the pain of having their private photos leaked, it’s Jungkook.

Shit.

“She doesn’t want anything to do with me. She made that clear when she walked out on me.” Tae turns to go back down the hallway.

“Seriously? You haven’t talked to her. You’ve literally said zero words to her since you showed her that someone took pictures of an incredibly intimate moment. How do you know how she feels?”

Taehyung shakes his head. “No, no. If you could have seen the look on her face...I broke the one promise I made to her.”

Jimin walks up to Taehyung and grabs him by the shoulders. “Hey, look at me.” When Taehyung lifts his eyes up to his friend’s, he can feel the tears welling behind his eyes.

“Taehyung, if you love her like you say you do, if she feels like home, you would fight for her. You know that.”

He feels the water fall on to his cheeks, and he can’t stop all the doubt running through his mind. It’s like Jimin sees it in him, and he says, “you can’t get caught up in what ifs. You have to go to her.”

He nods and runs back to his room. He throws on a casual outfit and calls Beoseon on his way out the door. He knows that if he doesn’t do something right now, then he won’t be able to say all the things that he needs to say to you.

****

A gentle knock on your door wakes you from your sleep. At first, you aren’t sure if you even heard it, when you blink your eyes open, looking around confused. Then it comes again.

You drudge yourself up off the bed and maunder to the door. The sight out of the peephole is one of the last things you expected to see. Standing in the hallway outside of your apartment, a sullen-looking Kim Taehyung is knocking softly against your door.

You unlock the door and swing it open to face him. He simply stares at you for a moment. He opens his mouth and closes it again like he doesn’t know what to say.

“Why don’t you come in?” you mutter.

Once inside, the two of you stand, shifting your weight between your feet. You aren't sure what to say, but you know that you can't just stand here in silence any longer. The things that are unsaid between you hang in the air. It's thick and heavy and difficult. Seeing Tae's face after the last several days is painful, and you hope that he'll speak first.

"I..was an idiot," he says.

It isn't really what you expected, but it was true. He was an idiot.

"Yeah. You were."

He winces slightly at the bite in your tone, but you know that he has to have more words to say.

"I wrote a song for you."

Well...this conversation is not going how you expected it to.

"Well, I'm glad you were writing a song in the five days that you weren't talking to me after a super embarrassing photo of me was posted on the internet."

You turn away from him and start to walk toward your bedroom. He grabs your hand before you are too far away from him. You remember the man in the bar the night that you met, and you freeze, melting a little at the memory. The way that he felt that first night was the reason you'd even agreed to any of this at all. The warmth of his palm on yours reminds you of all the things that you loved in your time together.

"Look, y/n. I can't ever apologize enough for abandoning you when this happened. I should have immediately called and texted and come over and hired a skywriter. Instead, I was a coward and assumed that I would know what you would say to me about it. I didn't even talk to you before assuming that you were done with me and wanted nothing to do with me. I broke a promise that I made to you. I can tell you that the company is taking legal action against that line cook, and they were fired. It doesn't change what happened, but I just want you to know that I'm trying to do everything I can to make it up to you."

You know that Tae didn't mean to hurt you. You know that. But it doesn't change the fact that he did.

"Taehyung...I know that you didn't mean to, but you hurt me. You broke promises."

"y/n, please. I love you. Please forgive me."

Those three words hang in the air, wrap around you, and overwhelm your senses. You know that you feel that way about him, but the fact that he said them first fills you with joy.

You leap at Tae, and he grabs you as you jump into his arms. You kiss him hard, breathing him in. Your lips move together, and you know that it's all worth it for him. You pull back, wrapping your fingers around his neck, messing gently with his hair.

"I love you too, Tae. You are worth it."

He grabs your bottom lip between his teeth, and you feel your heart quickening in your chest. You tug at his hair. He lets your lip go, and you slip your tongue across his bottom lip. You want to feel every inch of him, taste every part of him. Your tongue traces his bottom lip and then sneaks into his mouth. His tongue finds yours, and they feel like they were meant to be together.

He pulls back from you and drops you down on the couch. He pulls his shirt over his head, and then he grabs the hem of yours and rips it off, tossing it aside. You aren't wearing a bra, so your nipples harden at the cool air and the arousal. Tae growls quietly in the back of his throat, and he leans down to kiss you. You pull him toward you until he's on top of you.

He laughs as he kisses you, and he presses his torso against yours. He wraps his hand in your hair and pulls gently. "Is this okay?"

He pulls a little more. You nod fervently at the small sting in your scalp. He pulls harder and harder, and you smile as he pulls your hair hard. The pain makes the wetness between your legs grow, and you can't wait until he hurts you again.

"Tae?" you stare up at him. "Do something for me?"

“Anything, my love. Anything.”

“Will you...slap me?” His eyes widen, and he stiffens slightly. “Shit. If you’re not into it, then we really don’t have to do that.”

“No, yobu, that’s not it. I really love it. It’s just that I hurt you emotionally already…”

“Well...make the outside match?” You thought it would be fun and flirty, but it just sounded kinda rude. You laugh to try to make it clear that you aren’t actually upset with him.

He stares at you for a moment, then he brings his hand up away from your hip. It smacks against your cheek, and you try not to flinch as it comes down on you. The sting in your skin makes you soak through your underwear. 

“Now, I’m going to show you how much I love you,” he whisper-growls in your ear.

He drops his weight back on to the couch and pulls you into his laugh. You slightly awkwardly straddle his lap from the position you’ve been placed in. Taehyung slips two fingers into your mouth and pulls your jaw open. He rubs his fingers on your tongue, and you moan in the back of your throat. He pushes his fingers further into your mouth to back of your throat.

He brings his other hand up to the back of your head, stroking your hair, and says, “Good girl.”

Around his fingers, you plead, “Pleath Taehong.”

He smiles at your inability to properly pronounce the words.

“You sound so desperate with my fingers in your mouth like that. Sweet dumb baby can’t make words when she’s so turned on.” He’s smiling and pressing his fingers further into your mouth again. “You don’t know how desperate I am though, jagiya. Should I show you?”

You nod, and his hand leaves the back of your head and wraps around your throat, squeezing gently. “Use your words.”

“Yes Tae.”

You are starting to drool down your chin with your mouth so wide open, but you don’t care because you want to cover him in your spit. Tae shifts his weight and pulls his pants down, hard cock bursting free as soon as the fabric that contained it is gone.

“Do you see what you do to me? Every time I see you, it’s like the first time again. I feel like I’m infatuated. A lusty mess.”

You moan around his fingers, and your spit drips from your lips onto his cock, and you smile at the sight of it.

“Does my lovely baby like to see her spit on my cock?” he asks, smirking at you, still holding your jaw open.

“Yeth.” More spit falls from your mouth.

“My love, I just want to feel you,” Tae whispers against your neck. His mouth finds purchase on your collarbone. He bites down hard and then sucks the skin where he’s just bitten. He looks up at you with so much affection in his eyes, it almost hurts.

He pulls his fingers from your mouth and sucks the drool off of them. You feel like you are going to explode if you don’t get some sort of stimulation soon.

“Bedroom?” you ask him.

“Bedroom.” he states back.

You lead him into your bedroom, and he pushes you back onto your bed. You pull your sweatpants and your ruined panties off and toss them aside. Tae stands before you, completely naked, and you marvel at him. He’s so beautiful and so perfect, his honey skin stretched just right over every curvature of every muscle and bone.

Shit. He’s so beautiful.

He slowly lowers himself between your legs, and you can’t believe that it’s possible to grow any wetter until you do. He positions himself about your clitoris, blowing cool air on the aching bud. You squirm beneath him, but he holds your hips in place. His tongue makes contact with the sensitive skin, and you immediately moan. He pulls away after one lick and blows again. The pleasure and the desire are overwhelming. Your mind is losing control.

“Please. Please,” you beg without knowing what in particular you are begging for. His touch? His tongue? His love? All of it?

He chuckles against your folds, and the stimulation makes your squirm even more. He isn’t touching you, but you are dying for his touch.

“Hold still.” 

He holds your hips as the gyrate, trying to get attention in some form. He pushes a little hard on your hips, but you can’t control yourself. You are out of your mind, and you need his touch now before you die for the lack of touch.

Smack!

Tae’s hand lands on your inner thigh heavily. You look down at him with wide eyes. “I said hold still.”

With all the power you possess in your mind, you force your hips to quiet. You hold perfectly still while panting in anticipation. You want to be good so that he’ll reward you with the thing you want most, and your brain tries to focus on still hips instead of those still lips.

Finally after what feels like years, he dips his head and traces gentle patterns through your arousal. Every time his tongue passes over your clit you moan but fight to keep your hips still. You feel yourself losing your grip, hips shuddering from the pleasure, and Taehyung slides a finger inside of you. Slick with your arousal, it easily caresses the bundle of nerves inside. The stimulation from his tongue and his finger immediately send you over the edge.

It’s sudden and forceful. It feels like all of the emotions, anger, sadness, hopelessness, all burst from within you, melting into your orgasm. Your pain melts away as the only thing left in the room, hell, the world is the sensation that Tae is giving you. Your fingers pull at his hair, and even the feeling of his soft locks is too much for you, adding to the pleasure.

As the feeling begins to wind down, you can’t stop your hips from rolling against his face. He doesn’t seem to mind, hands wrapped around your ass and hips, pulling your hard against his face. When he pulls away, his chin is shining almost as much as his eyes.

“I love you, y/n.”

He climbs up on top of you and kisses you deeply. You taste yourself on his lips, and you moan into his mouth.

“Tae...fuck me raw?”

You stare up deeply into his eyes, and you hear the intake of air from him being startled. He nods, and his cock presses against you. He slides his cock through your folds, and the way the head of his cock feels against your clit causes your to shudder. It feels like small shockwaves that are left over from your orgasm are rocking through as the stimulation continues.

Once his cock is coated in your wetness, he pushes himself inside of you, and you moan a deep, heavy moan as he sheaths himself within you. The stimulation is already pushing you toward another orgasm, and you can feel yourself pulse around. He has a way of making you cum over and over so quickly.

“I love you, Tae,” you whisper, and he starts to move his hips in rhythm. The thrusts leave you breathless. He repositions himself so that his weight is resting on your legs, and he is pushing your knees up near your chest. It burns in your hamstrings, but the feeling inside of you demands more of your attention.

You moan loudly, hearing your own sounds echoing off the ceiling and the walls. Tae repositions once more. He’s holding your ankles, pressing himself deep inside of you. Another orgasm tears through you, and while you clench around him, Tae spills inside of you, filling you full of his cum. You feel him fucking it deeper inside of you. You relish the feeling of being filled with Tae, knowing that there will be a day soon where you will make him fill every hole with him.

You both pant in each other’s arms before you finally start talking.

“I mean it, y/n. I was such an idiot. I’m so sorry. I know that it doesn’t change what happened, but I think that we can try to figure out a way to make this work.” His eyes are a little desperate again, veiled in exhaustion.

“Kim Taehyung, if someone is worth it, you make sacrifices. For what it’s worth, I love you. Ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard?” you giggle as you say it.

He flips himself onto his back and pulls you tightly against his chest and kisses your nose. “Far from it.”

*****

On an unseasonably warm November afternoon, you lie on the roof of the recording studio where Tae is working today. He had a few minutes to sneak away for lunch, so you brought Banh Mi for him. You kissed him on the cheek when you saw him and greeted the other members.

The two of you lie looking at the sky, picking out shapes in the clouds. He’s gently holding your hand, and you are tossing Swedish Fish into his mouth.

“Isatrashcan!” he says with several gummies in his mouth.

“Isa what?” you ask, laughing at him incredulously.

He points out a long cylindrical cloud. “It’s a trash can!”

He looks so proud of himself, and you can’t help but love that about him. The sexy man that ruins you and dominates you. The devastatingly handsome man who wins awards and forgets to call you when he’s on the road. The oblivious man who almost cost you your job and almost broke your heart. He is also the love of your life.

You lean over and kiss his lips, smiling at him. You know that this trash can cloud is just the beginning of many adventures to come.

[surprisemodafakas]

𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐚 𝐄.–𝐅𝐚𝐧 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝐈𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞(𝐬) 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐞/𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞. 𝐈 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐞𝐫(𝐬).

𝐓𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞: 𝐅𝐚𝐧 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫(𝐬): 𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐚 𝐄. × 𝐅!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐓𝐲𝐩𝐞: 𝐅𝐚𝐧 𝐅𝐢𝐜 𝐒𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨(𝐬)

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): 𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬...𝐈 𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐬?

🗿 🗿 🗿 🗿 🗿

"Y/n, you just can send that art work you made for him without noticing you if you're really that ashamed. Stop beating yourself and get that done so you can rest."

Kendo, being the big sister your section tried knocking some sense on you but as usual, it seems like jittery is the one that flows in your vein and not blood.

"B-b-but he might see m-me and then he'll g-get mad! Wh-what if he'll throw this w-w-work?! I-i-it'll hurt my feelings!"

Tetsutetsu then put a hand at your shoulder before giving a you a stern look and light squeeze before sighing.

"Class 1 A students don't act like how Monoma says specially Kirishima, ok? Man up and give that art you have for him Y/n!"

Although your quirk isn't flashy because you can only make your drawings move like how you want them, they are specifically good for covert missions though. Looking down to your work of a doodled version of Kirishima—your long time crush, you sighed loudly before looking to both Kendo and Tetsutetsu. They're right. Kirishima is the real definition of what he always say. He's a "manly" man! You know or rather hope that he won't throw your work away at the school bin.

You waited for the bell to ring, signaling for all the classes to end before rushing to collect your things and your art work. Your heart is pounding wildly in your chest. It feels like it may burst any given moment while trying to walk normally towards the class 1 A's door.

"You can do it, you can do it, you can do it Y/n! You're the best artist in the whole academy! It's just a fan art and nothing can harm you!"

You winced as you tried this 'self pep talk' Tetsutetsu taught you and wait for the supposedly calmness to coat your body but your nervousness hit UA's rooftop when you saw Kirishima talking while walking with his friends towards the door you're rooted in.

"Tch damn extras!"

You looked down floor when you literally could sense their groups' literal tsundere A.K.A. Bakugo getting near.

"Come on on Bakugo, our provisional hero licensing test would be tomorrow so there's nothing more good than to calm and not practice til we drop! Let's go have a sleep over on your room!"

Ashido, the only girl in their chaotic group spoke. Indeed, the provisional hero licensing exam is tomorrow that's why you made Kirishima this moving inspirational doodle art in one of your canvas, so he could feel motivated but it feels like you're the one who'll need a motivation because in a matter of seconds, you might die from embarrassment.

"No—move you fucking extra!"

Bakugo denied his friend's request earning him an earful of groans but when the moment he said move, you lifted your head and panic striked your whole body. The tsundere we know as Bakugo shouted at you because you're blocking their exit while his friends looked at you with cluelessly.

"Hey man, that's not manly to shout at a beautiful girl!"

Oh my goodness I'm going to die, I'm going to die, I'm going to die! Your chest tightened with Kirishima noticing you but when he said that you're 'beautiful' your eyes blurred with tears of joy. On the other hand, the whole Bakusquad suddenly froze with worry etched in their face because you just suddenly shook and looks like your going to burst anytime soon.

When Sero decided to step in front of you, your instinct kicked in and slapped him with the canvas in your hand with all your might in his face making him fly to the other side of the room.

"I like you Eijiro! Oh fuck! Oh shit!"

You just blurted that out and ran fast like you're going against Husain Bolt. Meanwhile, Bakugo, Ashido and Kaminari were laughing out loud like hyenas while clutching their tummy. They weren't expecting someone to just randomly stood outside their door, shake like they're doing some Harlem Shake dance, slam their friend Sero to the other side of the room and then confess to Kirishima before bolting out of sight.

Kirishima was stunned at what had happened before his eyes and tried to regain his composure fast but it atleast took a minute or two before he could help out poor Sero on the floor. He then helped Sero stand up before noticing a stuck canvas on his friend's elbow.

"Kirishima, I think that was supposed to be a confession for you huh?"

Sero joked light heartedly. Kirishima just rubbed his nape while blushing at his friends taunting before chuckling a little.

"Yeah, I guess so..."

"Here, this one's supposed to be for you and not me. Next time, I'll make sure to stay away from your crazy fans."

Sero removed the canvas from his elbow and gave it to Kirishima. With both of them curious at what is in the canvas, they were in awe at the doodle they saw. It was even moving!

"Damn, dude! That one really have a talent! It's even moving and wishing you luck! You're so lucky to have a fan girl!"

Sero teased Kirishima who blushed even more. It is indeed true. He's lucky that someone who's talented as you noticed someone like him who's weak and not manly enough—in his own perspective though. When the three other knuckleheads were done laughing their ass off, they came over to Sero and Kirishima who're both looking in awe at the canvas. When they also took a peak, they were amused at they saw. A doodle of their best friend that's moving on a canvas isn't always something they see unless you're at Hogwarts where all pictures or portraits move!

"Look at that. Someone's into our "manly" hero huh?"

Ashido jokingly jabbed her elbow into Kirishima's side.

"Want me to tell you how to do some awesome move and pick up lines?"

"Fuck, another extra in the group."

[refinedbuffoonery]

Flawless (6)

masterlist.

Content Warning: swearing, violence, sex, PTSD

Not gonna lie, this is a bit of a filler chapter. But the NEXT chapter...that’s the one you’ve all been waiting for. Also, I’ve had “bad guy” by Billie Eilish stuck in my head for DAYS, so that’s the song playing during the runway show. 

*****

A week after the job at the director’s house, Riley sank into her first-class airplane seat and immediately opened her laptop, the tan pleather chair squeaking slightly as she crossed her legs beneath her. Dimming the brightness, Riley angled her laptop so no one could see it but her. She’d been profiled plenty of times in the past while writing perfectly benevolent code. Riley certainly didn’t need anyone catching her working on something more nefarious. 

If she did this right, then she’d be able to just connect her phone to whatever Louvre computer that controlled security and be free to do whatever she wanted. 

If she didn’t...she’d need to brush up on her French. 

Nikki dozed in the seat beside her. She’d been bouncing off the walls all morning in anticipation of getting to see Fashion Week in person after Riley had promised to go with her to as many fashion shows as they could sneak into. Nikki’s excitement was infectious. While the priority was to see the runway show of the designer whose Louvre afterparty they were crashing, before they boarded the flight, Riley found herself sifting through fashion blogs to determine which other shows she wanted to see. All couture, of course. 

Across the aisle, Jill had her nose buried in an incredibly thick book Riley couldn’t see the cover of, and behind her, Cage and Desi curled together like a human pretzel as they watched a movie. They were disgustingly happy, and that made Riley happy too. 

When they were somewhere over the middle of the Atlantic, Nikki awoke, grumbling, “You’re going to ruin your eyes if you stare at that screen any longer.” She was right. Riley’s vision had started to blur at the edges hours ago, and she knew she’d have a hard time focusing on things in the distance when she finally looked up. Riley saved her work and shut her laptop. 

Nikki still hadn’t budged from her awkward curled position, but her eyes were open. Riley figured now was as good of a time as any to make Nikki answer her last lingering question. “So you still haven’t told me why you and your boyfriend broke up,” she probed. “You know, the one who hacks everything else.” 

Nikki sighed, rolling her head to glare at Riley. “Do I have to tell you?” 

“Yes.” 

“Fine.” Nikki sat up. “When we met, he told me he worked for a government think tank. Really nerdy stuff, does a lot of consulting. I figured he was smart but harmless.” 

“I remember.” 

“That was a lie. He’s a government agent, all right. But not the nerd kind. The double-O-seven kind.” 

Riley nearly choked. “A spy?” she hissed. “You dated a fucking spy?” 

“Surprise.” 

“How did you find out?” 

“The same way he found out about me. I originally told him I was a freelance art appraiser”—not far from the truth, actually— “and the IT job was to help make ends meet. We both bought each others’ lies at first, but over time we both struggled to keep our stories straight. And then one day it all just...fell into place, I guess. We had a massive fight, and by the time the dust settled, I think we both knew there was no going back to how things were before we knew the truth.” 

Riley laced her fingers through Nikki’s, conveying her empathy through touch rather than words. “What agency does he work for?” 

“The Phoenix Foundation.” 

“What the fuck is that?” 

“It’s DXS. The name changed while you were gone.” At least Nikki couldn’t still say the P-word either. But DXS...DXS could move Christmas. If Nikki’s boyfriend told anyone about her real job, they were all in trouble. Big trouble. 

“Think he’s going to come after you? Come after us?” 

“I don’t know.” 

Trying to lighten the mood, Riley said, “Ignoring the part where he knows you’re a criminal, it must’ve been pretty cool to date a real-life black-ops spy. I bet he knew all kinds of tricks.” The innuendo easily rolled off Riley’s tongue. 

Nikki smacked her shoulder. “We were having a nice moment and you had to go and ruin it by being gross. What the fuck, dude?” 

Riley rolled her eyes. “Love you too.” And she did. Despite the grudge she may or may not be holding, Riley loved her. She never stopped.

*****

They landed in Paris at night, and the Five Eyes crashed the moment they made it to their swanky, overpriced hotel room. The next day, they bounced around the city attending as many runway shows as traffic allowed. Riley didn’t understand the hubbub and overdone romanticism; Paris was just like any other major city—loud and overcrowded. And snobby. So very snobby. 

On their second day in Paris, the women chose to divide and conquer. Desi, Cage, and Jill teamed up to scope out the Louvre. Riley and Nikki attended the runway show of the designer whose masterpiece they intended to steal. 

As she and Nikki found their seats along the runway, Riley made a mental note of all the exits. Their seats were in the back, against a wall. Nikki hoped for a better view, but Riley liked it better this way. Sitting by a wall, she had something solid behind her and could see everyone come and go without having to turn around. Riley had always kept meticulous tabs on her surroundings—that’s what made her so good at her job—but the fear of not being able to see what’s coming was new. 

She didn’t tell Nikki about it. 

The blonde blended right in with the highly fashionable crowd, wearing a floor-length, gray plaid coat with hot pink lining. Nikki was completely in her element here, and sometimes Riley thought her friend would’ve been better off legitimately pursuing a career in fashion rather than letting Riley drag her into the world of shadows, secrets, and cons. 

While they waited, Riley fidgeted with a button on her black blazer. Her whole outfit was the same shade of her signature color—blouse, blazer, leather leggings. But her boots were the real showstopper—thigh-high black suede with intricate gold embroidery down the entire front. Riley saw them in a window yesterday and had immediately gone inside to purchase them. The boots were outrageously expensive, but it didn’t matter. Riley Davis was already a filthy rich woman, and after this job, she’d have more money than she would ever know what to do with. 

The house music quieted, and the designer—older man, favored his left leg, voice thin and raspy like a smoker—strutted down the runway, microphone in hand, welcoming the audience and beginning the show. He rambled on, ruminating over his inspiration for this collection. Nikki hung on every word. Riley tuned him out. 

So this was the man who was renting out the Louvre. Riley couldn’t even imagine the amount of money and favors it took to secure such an ostentatious party venue. 

What she could imagine, however, was that she’d surely be subjected to yet another one of these long-winded speeches at the afterparty tonight. On the bright side, that would buy her and her team extra time, making the job that much easier. 

The show began with a sweep of the lights as the music dropped to a low, pulsing beat Riley could feel just as much as she could hear. The crowd murmured respectfully as the first model appeared wearing a shiny black gown that looked like a trash bag had been melted to her body with the excess pooling on the floor. She told Nikki as much, earning an eye roll. 

The next gown was better—sheer fabric with countless thin, metallic gold vertical stripes. The skirt had pretty lines, giving the model the illusion of curves she didn’t have. After that was a strapless canary yellow ball gown with a full, pillowy train. 

“I don’t understand why designers keep making yellow clothes,” Riley hissed. “No one looks good in yellow.” 

“That model does.” 

“No one looks good in yellow.” 

Nikki twisted in her seat and glared, which Riley ignored. “Are you going to say anything nice?” 

“You’d miss my commentary if I stopped.” Riley’s snide comment earned her an elbow to the ribs, but she caught Nikki’s smile all the same. 

The next gown was cherry red satin, with huge ruffles on one shoulder and the opposite hip. The extra fabric was a lot, but there was something elegant about the gown nonetheless. 

Leanna would look good in that one, Riley stopped herself from saying aloud. Nikki—nor anyone else, for that matter—hadn’t said another word about Leanna since Riley first asked weeks ago. Suddenly their longtime friend was taboo, and Riley didn’t want to disrupt the tentative peace she had with Nikki just to push for answers she probably wouldn’t get. 

Another ugly gown, this one feathery pink with a sort of netting over top. 

But the last one...the last one caught the eye of every single person in the audience. 

Including Riley. 

The sheer dress was covered in intricate silver beading that accentuated its long sleeves and mermaid silhouette and left little to the imagination. It was the kind of show-stopping gown one wore when they wanted to be the center of attention. 

Despite the audience’s rising hum of approval, Riley still heard Nikki murmur, “That one is all you.” And it was. Riley would wear that gown in a heartbeat if she had the opportunity—too bad most jobs required her to blend in, not stand out. 

She was too busy lusting after the gown to respond. 

From her seat, Riley could just see into the wings, and she spotted who could only be the designer’s assistant, running the show behind the scenes. Even from a distance, Riley had a feeling the young woman’s hawk-like gaze missed absolutely nothing. The designer would be easy enough to bamboozle during the heist, but this woman could very likely become a problem. 

Riley committed the assistant’s appearance to memory and set the thought aside for later.

*****

Later that afternoon, the Five Eyes reconvened in their hotel suite. They still had a couple hours until they needed to get ready for the afterparty. Since only Cage and Nikki had been there before, Desi, Cage, and Jill had spent the day scouting the Louvre. It was good for Jill to work with Desi for a change; because of her military background, Desi’s way of thinking through a job diverged greatly from everyone else’s. 

Team meetings like this were one of Riley’s favorite parts of the job—swapping intel and strategizing the best way to pull off the job. Or the most fun way, which was usually also the riskiest. But tonight, the team was in unspoken agreement that they would play it safe, both because of Jill and the importance of this long-awaited job. 

Piled onto one plush, king-sized bed, the five women sat tangled together as they tore through the box of pastries Riley purchased on the way back to the hotel. For the first time in forever, Riley was hungry. She avoided dwelling on that fact as she licked her fingers and picked up stray crumbs that fell on the off-white comforter. 

“So, what did you learn?” Nikki quizzed Jill. 

Jill pushed up her glasses with her middle finger, speaking with her mouth full. “The room the party will be in is super fancy and at the far corner of the building.” She swallowed. “First floor.” 

“Good. What else?” Riley prompted. “How do Nikki or I get to security and the building’s system control?” 

“There’s an employee door in the hallway…” Jill trailed off. “Wait. This is a test, isn’t it? You already know.” 

Riley smirked. “I do.” 

Disbelief etched Jill’s face. “How? You told me yourself that you’ve never been there!” 

“I have my ways.” Riley would tell her eventually, but for now, it was more fun to lure trade secrets over Jill’s head. She reached for another buttery pastry, selecting one topped with slivered almonds.  

But before Riley could continue her taunting, Desi spoke up. “There’s something you should know.” The mood plummeted into seriousness. 

Riley and Nikki both raised their eyebrows. Go on. 

“Nikki’s ex was at the museum.” 

“Which one?” Nikki asked cautiously. Riley could hear the dread in her tone, the same dread that churned in her own stomach. 

“You know which one.” 

Riley swore. Nikki’s ex, the spy, was at the Louvre. “Did he see you?”

Cage answered, “We have to assume he did. And we also have to assume he recognized Desi and me as Nikki’s friends.” Riley set her pastry down, no longer hungry as the heist of her dreams started to crumble before her eyes. She refused to let that happen. 

“He was with a middle-aged man who definitely had a gun tucked into his belt,” Desi said. “Based on that and his haircut, I’d say he’s probably ex-military.” 

“Mac is too.” Tucking her knees to her chest, Nikki’s voice was uncharacteristically small as she spoke. Defeat wormed its way across her features. Nikki thought they couldn’t pull off the job now, Riley realized. 

No way. She wouldn’t let one stupid ex-boyfriend get in the way of her dream job. And her grossly large payday. 

“It’ll be fine,” Riley reassured. “He knows you’re into fashion, right?” Nikki nodded. “Then he has to assume you’re there for innocent, legitimate reasons. Innocent until proven guilty, remember? All we have to do is avoid looking suspicious, which we already do anyway. He won’t have any evidence to pin it on us besides a hunch, and even if he shares that hunch, he’ll get in trouble for not disclosing information about you and your relationship sooner.” 

Jill said, “That seems overly optimistic.” 

“Which one of us is the expert?” Riley snapped. Jill flinched, and the other three watched Riley warily. “Sorry,” she grumbled. 

The tension only somewhat dissipated. 

“Anyway,” Riley redirected. “We picked up the replicas.” She gestured to Nikki’s Balenciaga bag sitting open on a nearby chair. 

“Replicas?” Riley fought the urge to sigh at Jill and her constant questions. 

“What did you think we were going to do? Just take the jewelry and run like hell?” 

Jill’s silence was a resounding yes. 

“Pickpocketing 101. What did I tell you?” 

Understanding dawned in Jill’s wide, blue eyes. “When you steal something heavy, put something else in its place.” A pause. “We’re going to replace the jewelry with fakes so no one even realizes the real set is missing.” 

It was Cage’s turn to smirk. “She’s catching on.” The blonde leaned in. “So, can we see them?” 

Nikki was off the bed in an instant, retrieving a package wrapped in plain brown paper from her purse. She let Cage have the honor of unwrapping it and revealing the masterfully crafted jewels. 

The faux-sapphire and diamond necklace and earrings were stunning. And exact replicas of the real set. The only difference was a tiny, insignificant bump Nikki’s jeweler added to the back of each piece so they could quickly tell the difference between the replicas and the real deal. 

Desi whistled. “Damn. Those are stunning.” Beside her, Cage nodded appreciatively. “You would look so hot wearing those,” Desi murmured to her girlfriend. “Wearing only those.” 

Blushing furiously, Cage shoved her girlfriend off the bed. 

Riley knew that if she let them, her friends would spend hours examining the jewels. Clearing her throat to get everyone’s attention, she asked, “Everyone clear on the plan?” 

The four other women nodded in turn, first Desi, then Nikki, then Cage, and finally Jill. 

“Good.” 

“That’s it?” Jill questioned. “No team pep talk?” The other women chuckled, but Riley just rolled her eyes. 

“That one,” Desi pointed at Riley, “is the wrong person to ask for a pep talk.” 

Riley’s jaw dropped in mock outrage. “Hey! Speak for yourself.” Desi shrugged. Directing her attention back to Jill, “You really want a pep talk?” 

Jill blinked. 

“Don’t fuck this up.”

~ Tag List ~ Want to be added? Send me an ask. 

@macrileyedits​ / @hellishrose​ / @incorret-macgyver-quotes​ / @mylifequotesshowallofthem​ / @thecarrieonokay

[autistic-beshelar]

'm loving everyone venting about Molly! Thanks! And I want to ask you how you imagined the finale was gonna be? I have this whole fanfic in my head about Molly realising he had a four leaf clover stuck in his hair and upon noticing it he would give it to Yasha. Then the M9 would deal with Trent and Molly would finally know how terrible of a person the dude was. And then the M9 would introduce Molly to everyone else they met and visit every place they left better than they found it.

that's so sweet!

it's weird, because while like every other molly fan, i've had thoughts on his resurrection and a fic series i'm working on, but i'd never really... thought about the end of the campaign, or what it might be like?

(ETA this ended up so long im so sorry i have a lot to say apparently and this isn't even all of it)

my biggest and most important thing: they are a family. they belong together. maybe they'll go off on their own for a while, or stay with their families, but the nein belong together.

for fjord... he spent so long trying to be someone else, and while he's learning how to be his own person now, he deserves closure on that part of himself. he deserves a last conversation with vandren, and then to move on, to explore new places, to find new goals for himself. there is so much for him now, the open sea with so much life and promise. he buys a ship, a new ship, all his own, not one borrowed or stolen from another, and jester paints its name, decorates its quarters, makes it a home. he wrangles the nein (yes, even veth, yes, even essek) into joining him, and they set sail, all nine of them, the way it couldn't be the first time. he shows molly the ropes, teaches essek how to navigate, and watches his crew, his friends, his family, learning from him, placing so much trust in him, letting him guide them, and sees how truly happy they are to be here with him. usually, the crew is him, jester, beau, and often molly and yasha, but sometimes he will leave for a time, entrusting the boat to orly. sailing isn't all he has now, there is more to see, to do, there are things for him on land now too, but the sea will always be home to him.

for jester... she deserves her happy fairytale ending. i think for a while she stays with her family, seeing her parents happily together, finally properly introducing her boyfriend, and just spending time with her mum in a way that she didn't get to so much when she was young. and then i think she travels, just for the sake of exploring, with no defined goal other than to sow the seeds of joy and chaos everywhere she walks. and as she travels, she begins to write. stories were homes to her as a child, and they're homes even now, for someone with such a powerful imagination. she writes of her adventures, of her friends, she writes of mystical and fantastical things, half of them real. she writes and writes, words and illustrations filling so many books, she gives them to beau, to yasha, passes them off as silly little things, as though they aren't brilliant works of art. all of the nein read her stories - yasha out loud to molly as she plays with his hair, caduceus and calliope in the quiet of their garden, caleb and essek by the light of their bedside table. and in time the stories reach others, scattered journals are copied and bound into books, and one day jester wanders a quiet, nameless town, and in the window of a bookshop she's never seen, embossed on the cover of a novel, there is a brilliant green door.

for caleb... oh man, he is a teacher. that is so perfect for him, and i've been thinking about it ever since his talk with luc. i think there's something so powerful about being the person he deserved when he was younger, about stepping into that position of power and authority and being so kind with it. he's so passionate about magic, and i think it's beautiful to see him come so far - from someone burned and traumatised and so convinced he was irredeemable, to someone who can take comfort in soft things, someone who some days, almost, almost believes he can be good. i think out of everyone, except perhaps veth, he stays home the most. he still adventures with the nein of course, and if there is ever a whisper of artefacts or hidden knowledge or some expedition or other, the nein are with him in an instant to investigate it. but more often than not he is home, making the empire a better place, keeping the fire warm for them.

for veth... i want her to learn that she is enough as she is. i want her to learn that she doesn't have to choose between wife, adventurer, mother. she is all of these things. i want her to accept that her transformation was not a return to her old self but becoming someone new. i think she goes home, as she promised, and i do think she stays there for a long while, a few years perhaps, making up for lost time. and she'll pretend that she's fine with that life, with staying home, with being a wife and a mother. but that isn't all she is, and eventually, with yeza's help, with the nein's help, she will accept that. she'll no longer see it as two lives, two identities. she'll be able to kill fearsome beasts and explore strange new lands with her friends without guilt or fear, and at the end of the day she'll go home and regale her husband and son with extraordinary tales of her and her friends' heroics (that may or may not be exaggerated).

for yasha... i want her to be happy and loved. she's come SO far, from someone running from her past, drowning in guilt and so unsure of herself, to someone strong and bold. i love that ashley said she would do little odd jobs - i think she would do that, go around helping people as they explore. like most of the others, i don't think she would truly settle down. i like to imagine she does have a house somewhere - maybe inspired by the clays, she has a home somewhere green, surrounded by flowers, somewhere quiet and calm and peaceful. a little cottage maybe, for her and beau, just somewhere to return to and feel safe, somewhere she can rest. but i think most of her time would be spent travelling, seeing all the wonderful beautiful things the world has to offer, being with her friends who love her for exactly who she is, who showed her that she was someone worthy of being loved, who taught her that it's possible for her to love herself.

for caduceus... i think, for a time, he rests. he's tired. not done, far from done, but tired. i think he stays with his family at the grove, tending to all the things that are now so vibrant and alive, feeling the walls he was so sure would crumble. but after a time, he would feel that he is supposed to leave. the grove is wonderful, and will always be his home, somewhere he will always return to, and i think throughout his life - throughout the nein's life, and of course they will come to rest there, after everything - he will come home, to tend to the garden, to watch over the temple while his siblings roam. i think he travels, too, but not so much to adventure. after everything he's been through i think he deserves some peace, and quiet. he travels all the lonely winding roads, all the quiet humming spaces, sees all the life in all the hidden corners. while several members of the nein travel with him, it's yasha that walks with him the most, happy to go at his pace, eager to share in that peace and wonder.

for molly... there is so much for him now. he is no longer covered in eyes, no longer has that weight on him, even if he does hold memories of it, in darker moments. he is him but brand new, able to forge himself into whoever he wants to be, and the nein give him so much space and so much time for that. i think he stays with the clays for a little while - while the others deal with trent, yasha, so so scared to lose him again, places all her trust in caduceus to take care of him. and when they return (to find him with freshly cut hair the same colours as his coat, and a particularly proud looking clarabelle), they just spend time with him, all the time they missed and more. fjord tells him of their journey, jester showing him her journal, giving him meaning for it all, and all the time yasha holds his hand, unwilling to ever let him go. it's hard, being gone for so long, and while he is so, so (embarrassingly) proud of his friends for all that they've gone through, and how much they've grown, it's also glaringly obvious that he can't keep up. he almost has it in mind to leave - he doesn't want to hold them back, and he can't help but wonder if he's really the molly they want - it's hard to live up to a memory, after all. and there is so much he's missed. they tell him he's a moron, obviously. he is their friend, and there is nothing they won't do for friends, and waiting, staying, is such a small thing to ask. beau trains him, at his insistence - she thinks it's a joke at first, tells him that she'd be a terrible teacher, just as she was a terrible student. she's wrong, of course, and molly grows stronger by the day. he has so many adventures with them, sailing the seas on fjord's ship, sowing chaos with jester, fighting side by side with beau. there is not a single day that he isn't with his friends, yasha most of all. they are with him through everything, though good days, so many good days, and through bad ones too. molly has so much time - time the nein have given him, as he once gave to them - to live, to love, to wander, to form new memories and experiences. to be everything he never had the chance to the first time, and so much more.

for beau... she is so, so scared at first. they saved the world. they stopped trent. they've done... everything they've set out to do. what's left? what's keeping them together? when molly tries to run it reminds her so much of how she felt before, how she thought to run, to leave them before they could leave her. he returns the favour, reminds her that they are family, reminds her that she has worth, and the nein want her to stay, that they keep her, just as they kept him. (she almost believes him, and definitely doesn't cry). she does so many things - she goes home with yasha once in a while, somewhere tranquil, somewhere to study and research, she travels with caduceus, learning to appreciate a slower pace and all the quiet contemplation and companionship it can offer, she travels with fjord, his first mate, his best mate, allowing someone she trusts to take the helm and lead her on adventures. and she studies - long gone are the days of pretending to turn her nose up at books - she is one of professor widogast's best (and most irritating) students, learning magic not to weave it herself but just to understand it, just learning for the sake of learning. when she confronts her father, fjord and caleb are there as they should be - fjord to talk, to use his words and his charm to help, caleb in quiet solidarity, a hand on her shoulder, just standing with her as she tears down her mentor, her abuser, and comes out stronger for it, just as she had been there for him. finally, she can put that behind her, and she stays with the soul, as their greatest expositor (though maybe one who never does their paperwork), rooting out corruption, seeking the truth, exploring new horizons.

for essek... he spends a long time waiting for the past to catch up to him. it doesn't. it already has, in a way, if only in his own mind, the once unfamiliar guilt that weighs heavily on his shoulders. it never goes away, not entirely, but time heals, and so does the presence of the rest of the nein, always in his life, for as long as they can be. though he and caleb have different goals, they overlap so neatly, and though essek has a place in his own homeland, he spends far, far more time living with caleb. he continues with his research, caleb and beau poring over his notes, sharing his excitement and passion. he doesn't go on adventures near as much as the others, preferring to stay home, but he visits them, in all their different homes scattered across the land - jester in nicodranas, the clays at the blooming grove, veth and her family on the outskirts of zadash, beau and yasha's cottage in a little forest near felderwin. he has homes scattered across the land, so many places he is always welcome, and while guilt never entirely leaves, nor does the knowledge that one day, of course, all this will end, he finds peace.

i guess the reason i've never thought about the campaign ending is because for me.. it doesn't, not really. the mighty nein are family, chosen family. they stay together, they find homes in each other, and they leave every place better than they found it.

[frasermacintosh]

IT’S MY PARTY AND I’LL CRY IF I WANT TO → STRAWBERRY LEMONADE

TAGGING → Fraser Macintosh & Lemon La Bouff ( @lemonlabouff )

TIMELINE → August 14th, 2021

SETTING → Lemon and Carter La Bouff’s 20th Birthday Party

SUMMARY → It’s the La Bouff twins’ 20th birthday party, and the speak-easy 20′s theme is perfection. Everything goes according to plan until Lemon has her first kiss during a party game of all things, and she and one of her oldest friends end up shoved in a closet so that, thankfully, the tears she sheds afterwards aren’t seen by the public. When you play a mashup of Suck N Blow and 7 Minutes in Heaven, anything can happen.

Fraser would've been excited to attend Lemon and Carter's birthday no matter what, but the speakeasy 20's theme had definitely been a huge draw; it gave him a great excuse to dress up in a plaid suit with a bowtie, suspenders, and even a hat, even though that last one didn't stay on for long. After all, the Macintosh hair was too beautiful to hide. It wasn't until a big circle of people signing up to play Suck N Seven Minutes started forming though that his jacket was also tossed to the side. He would've been surprised that something like a kissing game was happening at a party of the La Bouff's, but then again, the party had been advertised as debaucherous, so why not?

He shuffled into place along with everyone else, bumping shoulders with the birthday girl as he did so. She started off the game, facing away from Fraser and passing on the playing card to the player on her other side, and from there, one person to the next passed on the card using only their lips. This version had a fun twist, where whichever pair fumbled the card had to spend seven minutes in the nearest closet, doing whatever they wanted. Fraser couldn't help grinning as the game continued, his eyes scanning the circle excitedly to see who'd be the first two who dropped the ball. When it was some people halfway across the circle from them, he joined in with everyone else laughing or jeering as the two headed off to the aforementioned closet.

"I'm sure I'm like the millionth person to tell you this party is awesome," Fraser laughed, turning to Lemon to make some conversation while someone nearby counted down seven minutes. "How many more games like this are there going to be? Because I didn't exfoliate my lips for nothing."

As much as Lemon liked to believe that every party she and Carter had ever thrown were the most perfect events to ever be curated by “visionaries such as themselves”, she was absolutely certain that they all vastly paled in comparison to their 1920’s themed 20th birthday party. The La Bouffs had really splashed out on giving the twins the perfect vintage speakeasy experience right down to a live band playing modern music in the style of music from the 1920s and a bar that served real moonshine cocktails “for the guests over 21”.

Plus everyone was actually more than keen to go along with the recommended vibe of debaucherous, which was perfect considering Lemon had no intention on actually participating in any of the risque games she’d come up with to give the party that trashy great gatsby 2013-esque vibe herself. The closest she planned to actually participate was by sitting in the circle for  Suck N Seven minutes and daintily sip bourbon from the fancy flask she’d bought to wear in the garter that had come with her glittering white flapper dress while everyone else did all the kissing and lord knows what else in the closet. She’d even specifically practiced the game enough times at home alone to ensure that she wouldn’t accidentally slip up and have to kiss anyone.

“More like the millionth and first person to tell be how great this party is, but feel free to say it more times.” Lemon said, dramatically flipping her hair over her shoulder as she jokingly basked in the praise. “There are a few more games coming. Do you have any one in particular you want to kiss tonight? I’m sure I could rig one of them to work out in your favor.”

"Am I also the millionth and first person to tell you how much this look suits you then?" Fraser tried again cheekily; it was true, Lemon in that dress with her hair flung over her shoulder was basically an art piece. "Because I thought I looked good but you somehow almost look as good as me. Kudos." Maybe by the end of her birthday, he'd tell her that she looked even better than him, but that felt unnecessarily kind, especially when the present he had brought her would probably put everyone else's to shame.

He considered her question for a few more moments, then shook his head. "Nah, not really. I'm an equal opportunity kisser. After all, luck works in mysterious ways. Everyone here deserves the chance. Thanks, though. What about you? Any games rigged in particular for the birthday girl? You can tell me, I can keep a secret," Fraser joked. He was pretty sure that the answer was no, but ribbing Lemon was always fun. It was definitely more fun than waiting for the seven minutes to be up.

“Probably! I do look like such an amuse-gueule, don’t I?” Lemon struck a couple of silly poses to showcase how great she looked before elbowing Fraser hard in the arm. “Dream on, Chere. There isn’t a person here tonight that could ever hope to outshine me and as cute as your bowtie is, you could never.”

Even though Lemon knew full well that Fraser knew her well enough to know that she’d never rig a game so she’d have to do anything with any of her party guests, she couldn’t help but meaningfully look over at Romeo Dubois and let out an exaggerated sigh. Despite having ice in his wine like the grossest trainwreck alive, Lemon really understood how Gatsby must’ve felt staring out at Daisy’s green light, so close but so far away from what he wanted the most. “You already know my biggest secret and unfortunately that’s something I can’t even rig.” Looking away from Romeo before she felt anything other than complete happiness over her success of a birthday party, Lemon pulled the flask out of her garter and took a sip before offering it to Fraser. “Want some?”

"I don't know what an amuse-guele is but if that means that you look like you showered today, sure," Fraser joked, underplaying how gorgeous his friend was partially for humor but also because compliments had to be worked for. When she elbowed him, he gripped his arm and let out an exaggerated "Ow!" and laughed to cover up the fact that it actually hurt a little bit. "Hey, don't damage the goods! I get that your beauty is feeling threatened but bruising me won't make me less awesome."

Fraser fought the urge to roll his eyes so hard at Lemon's theatrics that his eyes actually strained. He knew she had a crush on Romeo but that he didn't mean he liked it. The dude was weird and somehow let the fact that one of the coolest girls alive was into him just pass him by. "Yeah, well, it's his loss. Chalk it up to bad taste -- because seriously, who drinks wine with ice?" Fraser asked, his nose wrinkling.

He burst out into a smile at the sight of the flask and nodded. "Fuck yeah! Now it's a party!" Fraser wasn't sure what was in it but any alcohol was better than none. "Cheers to you, birthday girl! May no one make a baby in the closet of your party," he joked as he took a hearty sip and the door of the closet opened and the couple came back out, visibly rumpled.

“It’s french for party snack, you imbecile.” Lemon laughed, rolling her eyes in reaction to Fraser’s antics. “Must I remind you that denial is not only a river in Egypt.  I could never feel threatened by you, but especially not tonight. Not even Snow White herself could convince me that I’m not the best looking person here.”

Lemon wrinkled her nose a little in distaste, because really who DID drink wine with ice in it? But refused to actually comment on the matter because in her opinion it was rather distasteful to secretly diss the one you love, no matter how bad his taste really was.  

“Oh disgusting, don’t jinx my party!” Lemon squealed, snagging her flask back before realizing that the closet couple had come out and definitely had been doing more than just perusing the coats in there. Once the couple sat back down, the person that had dropped the card smugly passed it on to the next person and the game began again where they’d left off. Lemon elbowed Fraser one last time for good measure. “If someone gets knocked up in there, I’m directing them right to you to blame.”

"Don't call me an imbelice, ya dobber," Fraser laughed right back, shaking his head at her. He wanted to argue further, but the truth was that Snow White herself couldn't hold a candle to Lemon tonight, and it wasn't just her look. It was how excited she was for her party written all over her face. All he really could say was, "Historically, it'd be the Magic Mirror trying to convince you, not Queen White, but if you say so, birthday girl."

Fraser tried his hardest not to spit out any of the alcohol as the flask got snatched away, and his forehead crumpled in confusion. "Hey!" he blurted, swallowing hard. "You better let me get another sip later, that was actually pretty good shit." He fought the urge to elbow Lemon back, not wanting to leave the birthday girl bruised. "If someone gets knocked up in here, it's entirely a result of your debaucherous theme, not because of anything I did! If you direct them to me, I'm going to encourage them to name the baby Lemon. Luckily it works for whatever gender."

There was a close call between two party-goers with the card but with some crouching, they were able to keep the card going until it got closer to Fraser. He took it from the girl on one side of him and winked at her, and when she gave him a flirty face back, it made him think that maybe she was someone worth talking to after this game was over. After all, it was a party! It was the perfect time to talk to a new beautiful girl. He turned to Lemon with the card, but then a chuckle that was stuck in the back of his throat from flirting with the other girl disrupted the surface tension and he felt his top lip connect to Lemon's.

His eyes opened wide in surprise but as the card dropped, he let himself turn the lip touch into a slight smooch, because why not? It was a party! And it may have just been a peck but it sure was fun, especially as everybody ooooohed and awwwwed and pushed them to the closet, opening the door for them and slamming it shut, leaving them alone in near darkness.

“Don’t be an imbecile then.” Lemon responded breezily, waving away the semantics of his response away with another eyeroll and a flip of her hand. Fraser clearly knew what she meant so who cared if she hadn’t said it quite right.

Lemon grinned  at Fraser’s protest when she took her flask back. She’d “borrowed” it from her grandfather’s personal stash and it was easily the most expensive and best tasting alcohol there. “The theme is not debauchery. The theme is 1920s speakeasy, the suggested vibe is debaucherous, there’s a difference. You’re the one actively speaking a baby into existence on them, so if you’re going to encourage them to name it Lemon, I’m going to tell them to make the middle name Strawberry. Then it’ll have all the correct acknowledgments attached to it and it’ll match.”

Lemon watched the game go around in amusement, at least until it got closer to her and the amusement turned into focused determination to not drop it on her turn. Luckily…or rather... Unluckily, she didn’t have a thing to worry about on her turn because instead of the cool touch of the card pressing against her lips, it was the warm lips of one of her oldest friends.

Lemon felt like her blood was turning to ice water in her veins as Fraser made it more of a kiss than just an itsy bitsy gross lip touch they could spend the next seven minutes in the closet giggling about. It was officially her first kiss and NOT the way it was supposed to go. After backing out of kissing Myles earlier in the year, Lemon had decided that her first kiss would be strictly reserved for the boy she actually loved and as much as she loved Fraser as a friend, he was simply not Romeo.

As soon as they got shoved in the closet Lemon had no idea what to do other than burst into tears. Not loudly in case anyone close could hear them but enough to make it more than clear to Fraser that absolutely nothing in the in the closet would be matching the aforementioned debaucherous party vibe.

"Lemon Strawberry. Sounds delicious... and like they'll be teased for the rest of their life," Fraser laughed, faux-shuddering at the very thought. "They might as well go by Strawberry Lemonade or something else that sounds like it's from a children's television show." He was probably thinking about it too much and he wondered if maybe they were talking a baby into existence; he decided that if they did, he wouldn't feel guilty. It'd just be further proof of how awesome he was, that he could make a baby without having to be physically involved at all.

Unfortunately for him, something was about to happen to make him feel solidly un-awesome. He didn't think a kiss between friends could possibly be a bad thing, especially when that friend was as cool as Lemon usually was, but by the time they got pushed into the closet, it was obvious that she didn't share that sentiment. She was crying like her husband had just gone off to war and it left him feeling too many things at the same time. There was concern, obviously, because if a friend was sobbing, any sane human would be concerned.

But more than that, there was annoyance and major insult that, all together, felt a lot like hurt. Fraser didn't spend a lot of his free time wondering what it'd be like kissing Lemon but once it happened, he figured it was something they'd enjoy, or at least be able to laugh about. He knew he wasn't her precious Romeo, but he also wasn't the short weird art kid from the Isle that she'd kissed already either, and from what he knew, she didn't weep when that one happened.

He was hoping something closer to the concerned end of his emotional spectrum would come out when he did finally get over the shock of her tears enough to talk, but what actually escaped him was something like "What the hell are you crying about?! You'd think I slapped you or something. It was just a kiss, Líomóid! It's kind of the whole point of the game! Get a grip." He didn't mean to sound so angry, but he felt rejected, and by someone he wasn't even out to get! The fun he'd been having with her at the party had died and was like a heavy beast was sitting in his chest now. Fraser turned away from her with crossed arms, not able to handle looking at her tears for one more second.

“I’m crying because you ruined my birthday!” Lemon yelled back, dramatically stomping her foot like a character in a movie to emphasize her point. What right did Fraser have to be angry at her for getting upset? It wasn’t his first kiss that had been thrown away in front of so many witnesses. It wasn’t his 20th birthday that would forever be tainted by losing a game she’d specifically come up with to make EVERYONE ELSE look kinda trashy. As far as Lemon was concerned, Fraser had won the freaking lottery, He’d gotten to kiss her!

Lemon used all her strength to turn Fraser back around to face her. “What are you, a five year old? You don’t get to turn  around when I’m mad at you! I’m crying and it’s your fault because YOU couldn’t play a stupid game right, so now you have to look at me.”

He was glad to be facing away from her, because otherwise Lemon would've seen Fraser roll his eyes at her claiming he "ruined" her birthday. She still might've heard his huff, but to be fair, he wasn't trying to be quiet. She deserved to know she sounded ridiculous, and if she was going to stomp her little foot at him, then him huffing at her was more than called for. After all, what kind of party was made worse by kissing the hottest person in the room?

But then she tried to get his attention and got him to face her again and he couldn't hold in the annoyance any longer. "You're calling me a five year old?! Seriously?! You're the one sobbing because, what, you accidentally kissed the best guy at the party? The only reason anyone should be kissing after kissing me is because they didn't get to kiss me longer, so get over yourself. It was just a stupid game and you're the one deciding to cry about it, not me, so no, I don't want to look at you. In fact ---"

Fraser cut himself off and moved towards Lemon, picking her up and spinning them around so she was facing away. "Now just stay there for the rest of the seven minutes, fuck."

Lemon let out a loud scream of rage when Fraser picked her up and faced her away like SHE was the one acting like a poorly behaved toddler now. She turned right back around and put her hands on her hips angrily. “Quit it! You’re not the best boy here by a LOOONG shot! If anything you’re the WORST boy here and I couldn’t have gotten stuck with a worse first kiss if I TRIED! And considering the applications I got in January, that’s saying a LOT and that’s why I’m crying. Because You’re the worst!” Then because Lemon couldn’t think of a better way to end it, she turned right back around and crossed her own arms this time.

Fraser hadn't been expecting her to yell but people yelled plenty back home in his part of Dunbroch, and yelling back was how someone showed that they weren't backing down, which he wasn't, so he yelled back and didn't stop until she did. He was way too fired up to just roll over and take her weird ass breakdown, because he hadn't done anything wrong, so when she turned back around, he rolled up his sleeves, ready to roll with whatever dumb punches she dropped. Saying he was the worst was a terrible start on her part, because if there was one thing Fraser knew with all his heart, it was that he was truly the best at everything, kissing included. The more she prattled on, though, the more things started making sense.

"UGH!" he groaned, walking around Lemon so his back was against the closet wall and he could face her again without spinning her around. "What are you saying? That you, what, didn't kiss the short art kid?" The anger on his face dissipated for a moment as he took in the fact that Lemon lost her first kiss at a party, during a dumb game, which definitely wasn't on brand for her. But then he realized that she was disappointed about him as a first kiss when he was clearly a better option than anyone else she could find, and his forehead creased again. "I'm sorry your first kiss wasn't how you wanted it to go but I didn't know it was your first! And it's not my fault that you lied about that! And I know I should apologize, but I'm a hundred percent an upgrade to that guy, or any other guy who applied to your weird kiss resume thing! So just... quit crying, okay? Please?"

He let out a sigh and his shoulders crumbled forward. "It was just a game anyway. A lot of people don't even count games, so we could just say it doesn't count. Besides, it's not like I gave you a real kiss anyway."

“Yes! Obviously I didn’t kiss Myles. Why would I ever be this upset if I had kissed someone before!” Admittedly Lemon probably still would’ve cried in the closet if she’d kissed ten boys before this. She hated doing anything that she didn’t have written down to the minute in her planner. But still. “I know you didn’t know but that still doesn’t give you the right to yell at me for crying! I’m upset and you’re screaming at me! How am I supposed to stop crying!”  

Lemon sniffled hard, actually attempting to stop crying but at this point it was too late and her tears weren’t going to be stopping for a minute. She really hoped it would at least be before it was time to come out of the closet, luckily after years of watching her mother look like an absolute lunatic after crying jags Lemon had always made it a point to only buy waterproof eyeliner and mascara, so if she could get it together she probably wouldn’t look that wrecked when they left. “It was a game but I count games and so do a lot of other people so it counts to me. Lips touching like that is totally a real kiss, what are you talking about?”

Fraser snorted at the 'obviously', not feeling the need to point out once again that she'd lied about her whole insane kiss application thing and thus it wasn't 'obvious' at all. "I don't know, you're asking me to make sense out of a crazy woman's brain!" She did have a point though and so Fraser let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head. "Fine, fine, whatever, consider my screaming done. It's just..." He didn't know how to tell her how insulted he really was, so he just didn't. He let himself trail off and kept shaking his head, not sure what to say.

Besides, seeing Lemon all sniffly and sad did kind of send a solid, genuine pang of regret through him. He kind of wished he could go back and change what happened, but for all he knew, Lemon would've gotten upset and counted it as a kiss no matter what, just because it wasn't what she'd expected. "It's the people who don't kiss people outside of games who count them," he tried, his tone way softer than it'd been a minute ago. "Once you're out there in the real world, kissing the actual guy you want to be kissing, you'll realize this one didn't count at all. It can be erased from history then."

He couldn't help but crack a little bit of a smile at her last question and he shrugged a shoulder. "Lips touching is just lips touching; you wouldn't call hands brushing past each other 'holding hands', would you? Kissing is more than a brief graze. I mean, we weren't even touching each other anywhere, and we were standing way too far apart. A real kiss would've left you swooning, not crying. Especially if it was from me." He paused but then curiosity overcame him. "But uh, why didn't you kiss Myles? You did that whole application thing presumably to avoid situations like this and then you just... didn't?"

“I’m not crazy!” Lemon huffed, stomping her foot again. If she hadn’t been so genuinely offended by the insult she might have gotten smug about Fraser backing down from yelling at her, but at this point she felt like it was the least he could do to still be able to be called one of her best friends by the end of the night. 

Once Fraser softened his tone for her, Lemon genuinely tried to actually listen to him and maybe believe what he was saying. But she still wasn’t buying it, especially when he insisted that if it was a real kiss from him she would’ve been swooning but that was more best friend exclusive pettiness than an knock on his skills of persuasion. 

“It just didn’t feel right. I don’t know?” She shrugged, briefly glancing around the closet to see if there was something she could dry her face with before giving up and  delicately using the side of her finger to try and dab some of her tears away. “It was like how none of my plays have been working lately. I planned it all out so perfectly and got so close to getting it done exactly the way I wanted it, but I like knew it still wasn’t actually right so I didn’t actually end up going through with it.  Plus he really is kind of short so it felt a little stupid too. But don’t tell anyone I told you or it’ll make Romeo’s height difference kink sound valid.”

Fraser raised his brows at Lemon's huffing, as if she was just proving his point about the craziness, but he didn't delve into that deeper. He didn't think he needed to, especially since he got the feeling that he'd hurt her feelings with that comment and he'd done enough damage that night as was, even though he still refused to think of the kiss thing as his fault. In any other circumstances, Lemon kissing him wouldn't be a bad thing for either of them, and he was sure of that, even though they'd obviously never prove it one way or another.

He noticed her looking for something to wipe her tears on and he sighed, pulling a handkerchief out of his pants pocket and handing it to her wordlessly. It was the one he'd had in his jacket pocket earlier and he'd wanted to hold onto it, although he hadn't anticipated it'd be for this reason. He really did feel bad for Lemon the more she explained. It was the curse of the perfectionist, and that was a curse he understood well. She got him to laugh a little bit with that last comment though and he shook his head through the chuckle.

"Don't worry, that secret dies with me, mostly because height difference kinks are stupid in the first place. Men who need height to feel like a 'man' next to their woman are wildly insecure." Fraser cleared his throat and smiled awkwardly, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I'm sorry that your plans aren't as perfect in execution as they are in your head, both writing plans and kissing plans. That's what happens when your brain is better than the real world. Do you want... a hug?" Offering that felt a little weird but he also wasn't sure how else to comfort her and they probably had a few minutes left locked together in this torture chamber anyway.

Lemon gratefully took Fraser’s handkerchief with a small watery smile and dried her eyes as much as she could without rubbing them before folding it and awkwardly keeping it in her hand since she wasn’t sure what else she was supposed to do with it because handing it back seemed a little gross.

Lemon didn’t mean to laugh at Fraser’s response to her comment about Romeo’s height kink since she WAS in love with him and still kind of upset but a small giggle slipped out anyway since it was exactly the same thing she’d thought about it but had been mostly too nice to say. “You’re so right.” Lemon agreed before lifting an eyebrow at Fraser’s slight pause before the word hug. In a moment of either genius or insanity an idea popped into Lemon’s head in a flash. She pulled her flask out of her garter once more and took a big mouthful of the bourbon she’d only been using for sipping thus far before passing it over to Fraser. “Actually could you kiss me? Like for real this time? Well not for real real, but you know party real?”

The tension in the closet didn't disappear immediately at Lemon's giggle but it definitely dissipated enough for Fraser to take a small sigh of relief. So long as he hadn't totally ruined her night, or their friendship, they could make it through the rest of the party. "I'm almost always right," he added with a half-smile, glad she wasn't above admitting Romeo's  'you must be this short to ride this prince' thing wasn't weird. He'd never expect her to flat out badmouth the dude, but laughing at him was a good bonding moment, as was sharing a drink. Fraser took the flask grateful and raised it in tandem with his eyebrows before taking a big gulp.

The bourbon was still in his mouth when Lemon asked for a kiss and before he could perform a spit take which would be extra disgusting given their enclosed status, Fraser took a hard gulp to make sure all the liquid went down. "You've got to be shitting me," he said, shaking his head. "I mean, this is some sort of weird trick, right? Because your face is still slightly damp from me party kissing you before and I don't want to give you an excuse to hate me for longer than necessary." He expected her to burst out laughing, or admit it was a strange joke on her part making fun of him for wanting a hug or for fucking up so badly in the first place. It was the only reality that made sense, although his lips absentmindedly rubbed together for moisture as if his brain was preparing him for the slim to none chance that she was actually asking for what it sounded like she'd said.

Lemon’s nose scrunched up slightly in response to the rejection, she had of course expected it since it WAS a really strange thing to ask after the hissy fit she’d thrown barely minutes before hand. But their time in the closet was running out and now that she’d decided she wanted to do it, she wanted it done as soon as possible. “No, It’s not a trick! I mean it!” She insisted, using his handkerchief again to try and make her face less damp from crying. “You already got my first party kiss that may or may not have counted, so you might as well get the real one while we’re here?”

Fraser eyed Lemon suspiciously, his eyebrows furrowed as he tried to figure out whether or not he could trust Lemon's sudden shift. He didn't think she'd take it this far if it was a joke, but he also had a hard time believing she suddenly deemed him worthy when just a few seconds ago kissing him had been some sort of nightmare. The more he thought about it though, the more sense it made; after all, he knew he was better than just about any other guy she could find for this, and she already felt like she'd lost her first kiss...

The second he decided to take her up on her offer, he sighed, hoping it wasn't just the bourbon that made them both think this wasn't a bad idea. "Fine, fine, if it'll get you to shut up," he said, half-grumbling as if she'd asked him to do something far more tedious than kiss a beautiful girl. Before she could really say anything back to that, he took her cheeks into his hands and brought their faces together, some force behind it as he hastened to make sure this actually happened. Once they were in each other's space, he let his more experienced lips guide hers through an actual kiss, the kind he was sure girls wrote home about when they were lucky enough that it happened to them.

Lemon was all ready to tell Fraser that he didn’t have to kiss her if he was going to be a little bitch about it, but before she could even open her mouth it was already a little busy being kissed. Wide eyed, she instinctively wanted to push him back just for being so rushed about it, but she managed to resist the urge for long enough to realize that maybe it was for the best. She’d already backed out of one of her grand kiss schemes before, it would be even more embarrassing if she had the freedom to chicken out of the second one too. And even though she wasn’t at all sure what made someone a good or bad kisser, she could at least tell that it wasn’t an entirely unpleasant experience and a few seconds into it, managed to relax enough to close her eyes and just let it happen without trying to take control as she was wont to do with anything else in life.

Fraser's eyes had closed as soon as his lips had made contact with Lemon's, but he could still feel the hesitancy on her part. He wasn't one to pull back or quit though, especially not when he was doing this at her request in the first place, and when that hesitancy passed, it was almost like a sense of calm took its place. It was a calm that, ironically, excited him to his core, the kind of calm that, in his experience, only came with the really good kisses.

He was so used to Lemon fighting with him for the heck of it that it was weird that this felt so normal now, and he pushed some of her hair back as he deepened the kiss, lingering as long as he could and only pulling back when he needed some air.

"There. Happy now?" The snappiness he wanted in that comment was diminished significantly by the smile he didn't even realize he had on and the fact that he sounded a bit breathless, but beneath the sarcasm, he really hoped Lemon had gotten what she'd wanted out of that. If she hadn't, he'd actually maybe feel a little guilty, because he'd sure enjoyed it.

Lemon was surprised at herself when the first thing she wanted to do when Fraser finally pulled away was POUT.  It was a good kiss and kind of left her feeling a little dazed but was it good enough to allow Fraser to get a big head about and let him lord over her for the absolute rest of their lives? Not really!

Putting on her best unimpressed look, Lemon shrugged casually. “I mean, I guess I am. I’m not exactly swooning but if that’s what gets em going, okay.” She knew she was being a jerk by pretending that she hadn’t been at all moved by the kiss. But with the way she and Fraser generally operated, anything other than forcing herself to burst into tears again was absolutely unacceptable. “Merci beaucoup, for helping me get that out of the way, I guess.”

Fraser wasn't waiting for a swoon necessarily -- swooning at a kiss that happened in a closet of all places was so far from Lemon's brand that even he couldn't take it personally if she didn't -- but he was waiting for some sort of reaction to let him know she'd liked that as much as he did. It didn't feel particularly conceited to think of himself as a good kisser. After all, he'd gotten plenty of positive feedback in his day. However, when all he got in response was a shrug and an "I guess", that same feeling of rejection from when Lemon had originally burst into tears prickled around him like a particularly itchy sweater.

He shoved that down though, like one might shove down an adverse reaction to a particularly itchy sweater if it was a gift from a loved one, and just rolled his eyes at her. "It works on normal girls, so I guess I should've seen this coming," he shot back. "But yeah, yeah, you're welcome. Maybe now the next time you kiss someone, you won't turn into a freaking water park. In fact, let the next guy know he should send me a fruit basket as thanks." He smiled despite himself, clearing his throat as he heard a countdown starting on the other side of the door, probably marking down the time they had left in the closet.

Lemon rolled her eyes at the normal girls comment but smiled back at Fraser anyway. “I’ll be sure to let the next guy know.” Obviously Lemon was certain that the next guy would be her beloved Romeo, a theory that warmed her heart so much that before the count got too far down, she wrapped her arms around Fraser in a tight embrace.

“I do really appreciate you for kissing me again even though I cried and it doesn’t count. You’re such a good best friend to me.” Lemon admitted, pressing her cheek into his as she let all of her words come out in one big rushed blur to make up for how genuinely she meant it. Then she strategically waited until the countdown was done and the door opened before letting Fraser go, just so it looked like they’d been doing more than screaming at each other for most of the past seven minutes.

The hug that he'd originally asked for finally came and it nearly caught him off guard with how quickly it came to him but luckily Fraser caught Lemon in his arms in time and squeezed back. Them being the same height meant they were face to face again, in a much different way than a few moments ago though, cheek to cheek, and Lemon's words reached him quickly, privately, and unexpectedly earnestly. It made a weird lump form in his throat that he wouldn't be able to explain even if he tried.

"You're a good best friend too," he confessed in a near-whisper, as if saying it too loudly would make up for the fact that he didn't say 'I know' or something else like that. He wanted to add a cutting and inaccurate comment like 'even though you're a shit kisser' but not as much as he wanted to just stay in that moment a few seconds more, and then the door was open and he let go of her with a grin as they made their way back into the fray.

[psycho-slytherin]

Strangers ch. 44

You begin moving on, but Yoongi is stuck.

Pairing: Idol!Yoongi x Actress!Reader

Word count: 1.6k

Genre: fluff, angst, idk

Warnings: Strong language, I think that’s it?

|mlist|

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“Idiot. What were you thinking?”

“Oh, come on. Look, it all worked out, right?”

“This wasn’t part of the plan! Now everyone knows who you are!”

“They were gonna find out anyways. I just used it to my advantage.”

“Don’t you realize how careful we have to be?”

“You. I’m safe.”

“Have you forgotten our goal? We need to destroy her.”

“Yeah, but that was so he’d be safe. Haven’t we already won?”

“Not yet. But we will.”

~~~

“C’mon, D. I know you’ve got something for me.”

“Look, man-” D huffs in frustration. “I’m sorry, but ain’t the girl you’re trying to track down dead? It’s been a good month.”

“She’s alive.” Unless the photo is old, or doctored.

“Her phone hasn’t been on in any sorta way since the day she texted your girl. I’m tryin’ to locate her but I’m hitting a lotta dead ends.”

Yoongi bites his lip anxiously. Lisa is the only hold Seoyeon has over him– and the only proof he has that she’s a criminal. If he can find Lisa, Seoyeon won’t have any more leverage and Yoongi will be able to turn her over to the police. He’ll explain everything to Y/n, and finally be set free.

But he can’t do any of that until he has Lisa. 

“Yo, Gloss, hit me with that image description again?” D says over the phone. Yoongi can hear a mouse click several times as he closes his eyes, focusing on the photo in his memory. If only Seoyeon had sent it to him instead of just showing him, it might be easier.

“The walls were white. She was barefoot– her hair was short. Her hands and feet were tied.”

“What sort of knot?”

Yoongi clicks his tongue, thinking hard. “I- I can’t remember. It looked tight, the rope was pressing into her wrists.”

“That’s an oof. Did she look skinny, like she hadn’t been eating?”

“I don’t know, I can’t compare. I never met her in person, I only saw Y/n’s pictures of her.” Yoongi clenches his fist, frustrated that he’s so useless.

“Hey, hey, chill, man. We’ll find her. Now, what color were her hands?”

“Her hands? Uh… skin-colored?”

“Huh.” D pauses– Yoongi’s barely used to hearing his friend not talk.

“What?”

“I mean, you said the knots were tight. You’d think it would cut off her circulation.”

“Fuck, dude, I don’t know. Maybe I wasn’t looking. How is this going to help us find her?”

“I mean, I can already tell you that she’s probably not at Seoyeon’s place. There’s no way this chick can keep Lisa at her house without her family finding out, that shit’s just one story.”

“You’re kidding, she lives with her family?”

“Bruh. If she was stalking you enough to get away with what she’s done, do you really think she’d be able to keep a good enough job to afford that place? Nah, man, she lives with her folks and a sister.”

“We don’t know that she was stalking me.” 

“How else did she find Y/n outside of the hospital, then? You tell me.” 

Yoongi falls silent. He doesn’t want to dwell on the possibility that he so directly put Y/n into danger– it’s too destructive a thought. “Whatever. D, I really need you on this. The authorities have been useless.”

D sniggers. “Ain’t that the truth. Look, I’ve got an alert on her number and socials. If she so much as turns her phone on, or tries posting from another device, I’ll know.”

“Thanks, you’re the best.”

“Yeah, whatever, you owe me a collab.”

Yoongi grins. “Deal.” After hanging up, he sighs, leaning back in his chair. He’s been spending as much time as he can this week in his studio. Even the other members and their antics can’t lift his spirits, not when he has to answer Seoyeon’s constant summons for yet another photo op. And while he’s got her hanging onto his arm, Yoongi can think of nothing other than Y/n. 

He remembers how angry he was when he found out that you’d been an ARMY all along. It seems like ages ago, and yet the sense of betrayal is fresh in his mind. He can only imagine how you’re feeling now… 

~~~

“Miss L/n?”

You stand, taking the well-dressed man’s offered hand. “That’s me, hi.”

“Nice to meet you, you can call me Mr. Park. So, Avery Lee messaged me saying you’re looking to join our agency?”

You nod, fidgeting with the sleeve of your heavy coat. “Yes, until recently– well, I guess you could say I had a freelance manager. I can’t work with her anymore, and Avery said I should sign with an agency.”

“She’s right. Rising stars like you need guidance. So,” Mr. Park says, settling back into his plush leather chair and staring at you from across his desk. “Tell me about yourself. What makes you valuable to FYP Entertainment?”

You swallow. “I’m a third-year acting major at Seoul Arts University. I’ve been an active member of the theatre club and improv club, and competed in Central Seoul’s Improv Showdown twice. I was a featured extra in BTS’s Possible music video. I’ve modeled in Premier Bride Korea and for Beauty of the Seoul’s lipstick line. I recently appeared in a cologne commercial for Fierce, and I was an extra in Medicine of the Heart, a medical drama. Most notably, I play Kim Ji-Woo, a recurring character, alongside BTS’s Suga in Moon Over the Sea.”

Mr. Park rubs his chin. “That’s a long list for a pretty actress who’s never belonged to an agency. And I see an overlap– how familiar are you with Bangtan’s members?”

You fight the urge to laugh; has he not seen the tabloids? “Quite- quite familiar. We’re friends.”

“Just friends?” Mr. Park leans back. “I’ll be honest, Miss L/n, right now the only reason anyone knows your name is as Suga’s ex-girlfriend. Taking you on would be a gamble, and one I’m not sure would pay off for us. I need to know that you’re more than just a scandal– that you’ve got real talent.”

You inhale sharply, but instead of the overwhelming nervousness you were expecting, you feel only determination. They can’t hurt you anymore. “I’m talented. I’m experienced. And I’ll put in the work, sir– I always do. My relationship with Yoongi had no influence over either of my related jobs; I was scouted for the Possible video at a cafe, and Kim Seokjin was the original casting choice for Moon Over the Sea. I can’t deny that knowing Yoongi has helped my popularity, but I got my work, all of it, on my own. Sir.”

Mr. Park stares at you for a long while. “How are your grades?”

You blink. “Sorry?”

“You said you’re a student. How have you been doing in classes? I mean, all this work must keep you from school.”

“Fine,” you say hurriedly. “I, uh, haven’t let it interfere with my degree. I’m very efficient at multitasking.” A little white lie can’t hurt. You’re leaving to film in two days, you’ll check in with your professors tomorrow to make sure you’re good to go.

“That’s very admirable,” Mr. Park says. “And reassuring to hear. We like knowing our clients have the qualifications to continue in the workforce after retiring from entertainment.”

You nod, suddenly shivering at a chill you know isn’t real. 

“Well, I’ve received a glowing recommendation from Avery Lee, who’s worked with us for years. You certainly have more experience than many of our new stars. And a connection, even one like yours, with a group as big as BTS could help you go far. If you, as you said, ‘put in the work’,” Mr. Park smiles briefly. “Then I’d be willing to make this particular gamble, Miss L/n. Will you sign with FYP Entertainment?”

“I-” Yes! “I’d have to look at the contract first, Mr. Park. I’m sure we can negotiate a good outcome, and I’m very optimistic about my future with this agency.”

Mr. Park chuckles. “I see you know how to play the game. Your email is on the form you gave to my assistant– I’ll have her send you the contract today. And, Y/n?”

“Yes?”

“I’d stay in touch with those boys– maybe not Yoongi, if your relationship ended badly, but… They have more power than any of us know. If you really want to get big, stick with BTS.”

You furrow your brow. Now that you think about it, it’s been a minute since your last dinner together– after all, you were meant to see them on the night you found out about Lisa’s disappearance. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

When you leave the office, you pull out your phone and call Hoseok.

“Yyyyyyellow?”

“Hobi, it’s me.”

“Y/n?” Hoseok’s voice changes. “Uh, what can I do for you?”

“Listen, I was wondering if you wanted to have a Bangtan plus-one dinner again? It’s been a while.” 

“Yeah, um… What about Yoongi hyung?”

You feel a vague burning inside your chest. “He’s invited too, if he’s not busy with his new girlfriend. Our relationship was fake, remember?”

“Ah, yeah, right. How about tonight, then? Come over, Seokjin hyung’s making a souffle for dessert. We can hit a few clubs later? There’s some that are VIP enough that we can be safe.”

You laugh; Hoseok is so good at making you feel relaxed. Still, you don’t know if you’re hoping Yoongi does or doesn’t show. Either way– “That sounds excellent. See you tonight!”

~~~

"What do you want?” Yoongi growls into his phone.

“Don’t sound so grumpy, sweetheart.” Seoyeon’s voice in his ear is like poison. “I just wanted to let you know we’re going out tonight.”

“I have plans.”

Seoyeon giggles, far too happily for such a sadist. “Oh, but Suga-bear, you don’t have a choice! Let’s meet at Club Xyon at ten, okay?”

“I hate you.”

“You’re so silly! See you then. Oh,” Seoyeon’s voice turns dark. “And don’t forget what happens if you don’t show.”

A/N tysm for reading!!! <3

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

Official Not-Fake Date - Gerard Way x Reader

Request: basement Gerard asks you to be his date to aunt’s fancy birthday party, gee in suit, mikey loves you two together

Word count: 2 000 (wow, look at these beautiful three zeros in a row. Perfect.)

A/N: Yes, this is a gender neutral reader, even though they are wearing a suit. Because I, a female, would prefer wearing a suit over wearing a dress at most family parties. And I take no criticism for happy Mikey. AND: Happy Birthday to Mr. Gerard Way. Thank you for all the inspiration and strength to keep on fighting which you have given me and so many other people. I hope you never find this story bc that would be very embarrassing.

One more look in the mirror? Not like there was enough time to change anything anymore, so…? You turned around none the less, and looked yourself over in the huge mirror in your hallway. The suit you wore was of an elegant and very flattering cut, and sky blue. You had been hesitant about it at first when you had bought it, but now the blue was a lot more easy going on the eyes than black would have been. Not that you minded the black, in fact Gerard would turn up in a black suit, but for you, you felt the blue matched better, especially considering the wonderful spring weather outside. You ran your fingers through you hair and secretly wondered whether it would stay like this throughout the entire day, when the doorbell rang. Quickly you walked over to the coat rag, grabbed your jacket, and opened the door.

Outside Gerard was bouncing up and down on his heels, and when he saw you, his chin dropped slightly.

“Wow, (y/n), you look great,” he complimented, unable to take his eyes off you.

“Thanks, so do you!”

And you were not lying. You were used to seeing Gerard wearing ripped jeans and washed out band shirts that were several numbers too huge for him. But now he was dressed in the black suit he had told you about, a blue shirt, which magically matched the colour of your suit, and a tie. His unruly black hair was brushed and seemed to have been brought into some kind of order, but was already defying all the effort again. He looked more than just great.

Offering you his arm, he walked you to the car and held the door open for you, before quickly jumping in on the other side behind the wheel.

“Thank you for doing this,” he said, when he turned into the next street, “I really didn’t want to be the only one without a date, again.”

“It’s fine, anytime,” you shrugged.

Gerard had called you a week ago, asking if you were okay with being his date for his aunt’s birthday. The way he had phrased it had not made it clear if this was a real date, or just a fake. Since you were not dating, you assumed the latter. Not that you would have minded if it had been a real date. On the contrary.

The rest of the drive went by fast. You talked a little, about the usual stuff, music, friends, family, and listened to the radio.

The party was at a fancy restaurant with a huge garden. If you had worried about being overdressed earlier, these worries now were gone. Wearing your suit, you were pretty much the golden middle between all the other outfits the guests were wearing. Gerard had offered you his arm again, and guided you inside, where Mikey was the first one to spot you.

“Gee, (y/n), hey,” he laughed and came over, “you look great together.”

“I should hope so,” Gerard laughed, and quickly sent a glance to you, checking if you were okay with his statement.

“You don’t look to bad yourself, Mr. Way,” you laughed, and let go of Gerard’s arm to adjust Mikey’s bow tie.

“(Y/n), Gerard, you’re here,” Mrs. Way greeted, and politely you shook her and her husband’s hands.

You had met Gerard’s parents only twice before, and were not entirely sure if they knew you and Gerard were not together, but you did not bother to correct them, when they encouraged you to go over to the photographer who was currently taking pictures of all the couples.

Gerard did not seem to be bother either, because he just took your hand, and led you over to where his mother had pointed you.

On the way there you met Mikey’s girlfriend Kristin, who you knew from all the D&D evenings which the brothers loved hosting, and halfway to the photographer, you even found his aunt whose birthday it was.

After congratulating her, and Gerard handing her a box of chocolates he had been hiding in his jacket, she started asking about you.

“This is (y/n), we met in one of our college classes,” Gerard explained. He seemed to be ready to elaborate on it, but his aunt spotted someone else across the room.

“Ah, college, a wonderful place to fall in love. Good to meet you (y/n),” she mumbled, and left you standing.

“Okay-“ you laughed, and Gerard shook his head.

“She’s always like that. Her thoughts are never in one place for too long,” he grinned, “Shall we take that picture?”

The photographer had arranged a couple of flower as the background in front of a huge curtain, and patiently gave advice to the people he was taking pictures of.

“Stand a little closer,” he suggested, waving Gerard to step closer to you, “come on, you two, don’t be so shy!”

You tried to ignore the hammering heart in your chest, and moved your weight from one foot to the other, so you were leaning closer to Gerard. From this close up you could smell his deodorant. You flinched in surprise as you felt him place his hand on your waist, and pulled you a little into him. With big eyes you looked up to him, but he just focused on the camera, and smiled gently.

“Wonderful, perfect, that’s it,” the photographer cheered, “you’re done. You can pick up your pictures later. Next!”

Quickly Gerard and you stepped aside, making space for the next couple.

“Should we- should we go into the garden?” Gerard’s cheeks were dusted over pink, making you wonder if he had been as nervous about getting these pictures taken as you had been.

“Sure, let’s catch some fresh air,” you agreed, and side by side you stepped onto a huge terrace. The garden was truly gigantic. A huge field of flowers spread out before you, and in the distance huge trees reached up into the sky. Small tables with chairs were spread out across the lawn. Standing close to some rose bushes were Mikey and Kristin. They had stuck their heads together and were giggling, but when Kristin saw you, she pointed over to you, and the two met you halfway to them.

“Got the picture taken,” Mikey asked, and you could not help but wonder what he was up to. Judging by his wide grin? Something evil.

“Yeah, we- we did,” Gerard nodded.

“I really have to say, you two look so happy together,” Kristin smiled, “I mean, I knew you liked each other, but…”

“It’s good to see you finally had the courage to ask (y/n) out,” Mikey completed Kristin’s sentence, and playfully hit Gerard’s shoulder.

“We-“

“I know, I know,” Kristin interrupted you, “you’re not supposed to say that to people, but you two just have such wonderful energy together. And Mikey told me how much Gee loves you.”

“I-“

“I’m glad you’re happy now, dude, you really deserve this,” Mikey grinned even wider at interrupting Gerard, “come on babe, I think it’s almost time for the first course.”

And with that he took his girlfriend’s hand, and they quickly walked away, leaving Gerard and you in stunned silence.

“What just happened,” you asked weakly.

“I never- I never told Mikey how much I love you,” Gerard protested, “I-“ Helplessly he turned to you. “I don’t- he made that up- I-“

You did not know what it was but somehow Gerard had managed to completely ruin your day with these couple of stammered words. What had you been thinking anyway? That this was some stupid rom-com where you pretended to be his date and in the end he would admit to actually having been in love with you the whole time? Just because you wanted it to be that way did not mean it was that way. Trying to will the stinging in your eyes away, you swallowed hard.

“I think Mikey said food’s gonna be served soon,” you managed to choke out, and turned to walk away.

“Hey, (y/n), no, wait, that wasn’t- that’s not- shit!”

Quickly he grabbed your wrist, and turned you back around to him.

“Shit, I messed up, okay, whatever, fuck this,” Gerard mumbled more to himself than to you. Looking up into your eyes, he bit his lip, “I never did tell Mikey how much I love you, he made that part up, but-“

“It’s fine,” you shrugged, “You needed someone so accompany you, so your family doesn’t bug you about why you don’t got a date. It’s fine.” Damn it, how was your voice so steady and calm when all you wanted to do was cry and run away. Maybe you should try to get into voice acting instead of animation at art school?

“Let me finish please,” Gerard asked, trying to catch your eyes, but you avoided looking at him, scared you could not hold back the tears. “The point is that I do love you, or at least am totally in love with you, have been since basically the first time you set down next to me in class. That’s why I asked you to come today, I thought maybe I could ask you to be my real date and not just some pretend date, but it turns out I’m far too much of a coward to do that. But I do love you, and I want you to be my real date for this, but I didn’t tell Mikey. And now I probably messed up our friendship.”

He let go of your wrist, and stepped back. He looked sad and lost and scared, but there was a confidence in his eyes you had not expected. You knew that he meant every word he had told you, and if you would ask him now if he meant it, he would probably laugh in despair, throw his head back and exclaim that indeed he did. So you did not ask, and instead took the step towards him which he had taken away from you.

“Yeah,” you whispered, gently taking his hands in yours, “you totally messed up our friendship.”

You waited for Gerard to look into your eyes in confusion before you closed the small gap between you, and pressed your lips against his. You could feel him tense up for a second, before he under stood. His skin was cool from the spring air, and his lips still quivered slightly as he let go of your hands, and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into him, while kissing you sweetly.

“Hey, stop making out, the first course is on,” Mikey shouted from the terrace, surprising both you and Gerard.

“Shut up,” Gerard shouted back to his brother, who ran bent over laughing, and walked back inside.

Questioningly you looked up at Gerard.

“Where does that leave us,” you wondered, intertwining your fingers with his.

“Everyone in there already thinks we’re dating…”

“And I return your feelings,” you added, “just so that that’s clear.”

Gerard giggled quietly.

“Well, in that case I think I’d really like you to be my official not-fake date for the rest of the day,” he announced, “and even longer, if you want that.”

“I’d love that,” you agreed.

“Now that that’s cleared up, I think we definitely should see what kind of fancy food we can get in there,” Gerard laughed.

“We’re college students! We eat whatever free food we can get!”

Together you walked back to the terrace, but just before walking in, Gerard stopped you.

“Were Mikey and Kristin planning this?”

You thought back to how they had giggled when Gerard and you had stepped into the garden, and glanced over at them, sitting at the table, watching you two closely.

“Definitely,” you decided.

“Damn it, I owe them!”

“So do I, don’t worry,” you patted Gerard’s back, and together you walked over to your seats next to Mikey and Kristin, who were already grinning far too brightly.

Taglist (if you want to be added or taken off, please let me know):

General: @justawriterinprogress @robinruns  @jayloverthe3rd @lookalivefrosty @butterfly-writes @angelevansfalls @rene-royale @500240 @starduststyx

MCR: @deadlovers

[ericsonclan]

A Comforting Melody

Summary: Clementine wanders around Ericson with Maisy to find Louis who has a new song to show her.

Word Count: 1796

Read on AO3:

Clementine walked through the silent hallways of the dorms, her footsteps the only sound save for the muffled voices outside in the courtyard. She took a deep breath and enjoyed the peace of the moment before Maisy stirred in her sling. Her baby began to cry softly and Clementine rocked her lightly as she walked forward.

“Hey, it's okay. I’m right here,” Clementine smiled down softly at her daughter. Maisy looked up at her mom with large eyes and seemed to calm down a bit. Clementine gave a small sigh of relief, glad that Maisy had settled down. She continued down the hallway and noticed that the sun was setting which meant that dinner wouldn’t be too long from now.

Her eyes wandered back down to the sling and noticed that Maisy looked rather sleepy. Maybe she could sneak in a quick nap time for Maisy but Clementine also wanted to check in with Louis. Considering her options for a moment, Clementine opted to find her husband before settling Maisy down for a nap. Wandering towards the doors Clementine carefully opened them and was hit with the sounds of her friends happily going about their daily lives.

Aasim had just gotten back from hunting and immediately went over to Ruby after setting down the catches for the day. He always made sure to find Ruby first to reassure her that he was okay after a day of hunting. Aasim smiled softly at his wife and stole a quick kiss before holding out his hands to hold his son. Ruby handed Zachariah over and Aasim gently held his son and placed a kiss on his forehead before rocking him softly.

To the right of the happy family Willy was busy trying to learn how to braid hair from Violet and Prisha. Renata seemed just as intent on learning the special art of hair braiding. Allison sat before Renata and seemed somewhat reluctant about being her guinea pig for this but the small smile on her lips made it clear that Allison wouldn’t say no. Meanwhile James was busy helping out with dinner prep with Omar. The pair spoke softly as the faint sound of knives slicing through the vegetables filled the air around them.

“Willy! It’s your turn for watch!” AJ called out from the watchtower, cupping his hands around his mouth. Willy groaned in annoyance, his hands hovering over Prisha’s hair. He was just about to start the first few steps on his journey to becoming the best hair braider of all. .

“Don’t worry, you can always practice later,” Prisha smiled back at Willy who returned the smile.

“Okay,” Willy hopped up from his spot and jogged forward towards AJ who was already waiting at the base of the watchtower. “Any funny looking walkers today?”

AJ thought deeply for a moment at that question. “I think one was stuck in a tree,”

“Really?” Willy snatched up the binoculars from AJ and scrambled up the ladder to the watchtower. He immediately looked out to see a walker who had its hand stuck in a tree. With a groan the walker yanked on its arm, causing it to tear off as it continued after a rabbit that was far too speedy for it to catch. Willy laughed and continued to watch on. AJ watched his best friend for a few seconds before his eyes caught sight of Clementine.

“Clem!” AJ ran forward with a huge smile. His eyes grew large when he noticed his little sister sleepily blinking at him from inside the slink. “Shit. I mean, shoot!” AJ quickly corrected himself before he realized he was talking too loudly again. A look of frustration covered his face as his lips pulled into a pout.

“It’s okay, kiddo,” Clementine laughed and ruffled the top of AJ’s afro. “Maisy and I are just going to say hi to Louis before Maisy gets her nap time.”

“It’s Maisy’s nap time? I gotta grab my shiv and go on patrol!” AJ didn’t wait a single second for Clementine to respond and was off like a shot.

“AJ, where’s Louis?” Clementine called out but he was already long gone. With a soft chuckle she shook her head and continued forward. She’d just have to find Louis on her own. AJ tended to get like this whenever Maisy was settling down for a nap. He’d either insist on going on a patrol to make sure no walkers got in and there were no threats around or he’d sit on the bed nearby his sister and keep watch. Either way AJ was determined that no one ever hurt Maisy in any way. Clementine found the whole thing very sweet, how AJ always wanted to protect his family so fiercely and how deeply he loved Maisy. It warmed Clementine’s heart.

Clementine strolled forward, lightly bouncing Maisy as she walked. If Louis wasn’t in the courtyard and most of the daily chores were done, then there was only one place he would be. Clementine immediately made a beeline to the admin building and knew her hunch had been right. For as soon as she had entered she could hear the warm, soft melody of the piano. Clementine felt a smile pull on her lips as she wandered forward towards the music room. Peeking her head inside she saw Louis, lost in his music as his fingers danced upon the piano keys. He continued to play for a few more seconds before he felt Clementine’s presence. Glancing over, Louis’ face instantly brightened when he saw his wife. Sliding off the piano bench, he strolled forward and captured Clementine’s lips in a soft, tender kiss.

“Hello, my darling. What brings you here? Did my alluring music draw you in?” Louis grinned before his smile softened as he became lost in Clementine’s eyes.

“It definitely helped me find you.” Clementine reached out and gently squeezed Louis’ hand. Her heart felt calm and light like it always did when she was around Louis. The two shared a smile before Louis noticed the sling.

“And who is this a-Mais-ing bundle of joy?” Louis gently picked up Maisy and began to rock her. Maisy smiled and gave a small laugh as she reached up to try and grab one of Louis’ dreadlocks. “Damn, how did our kid turn out to be so cute?” Louis looked over at Clementine with a warm smile.

“I think we’re both pretty cute so it only makes sense. Plus she has some of our best features, like your freckles,” Clementine poked one of the freckles on Louis’ face before bopping his nose. Louis’ nose crinkled with joy and he leaned forward and kissed Clementine once more. He looked down at his daughter with pride and love.

“Well, she had your smile,” Louis felt his heart grow warm when he looked at his daughter. “Oh, how about Maisy takes her nap in here? She always loves the sound of the piano plus the rocking chair is in here,” Louis motioned with his head over to the rocking chair that Willy and Prisha had made during the months leading up to Maisy and Zach being born.

“I thought the rocking chair would be on the porch of the admin building,” Clementine commented as she walked side by side with Louis towards the rocking chair.

“It was but as it turns out Zachariah also finds piano music calming. So sometimes when Ruby or Aasim want a quick break from their kid crying they sneak in here with Zach and soon enough my music conks him out.” Louis smiled over at Clementine and gently placed Maisy back into her mother’s arms.

He pressed a quick kiss to Maisy’s forehead then was pleasantly surprised when Clementine captured his lips in a kiss. Louis’ heart soared and he felt like he always did around Clementine, filled with hope and joy. He gave a dorky grin then pulled on the sides of his coat. “I happened to be working on a special little piece for our family when you strolled in. I’ll have to play it again when AJ is around. Where is he by the way?”

“He’s out on patrol. I told him Maisy was taking a nap,” Clementine gently rocked back and forth in the chair.

“Gotta hand it to that little dude, he’s nothing if not protective. It's adorable, him being so protective of our family,” Louis smiled softly; the pride for AJ was clear in his voice. “Well, he’ll have to hear this song later but for now I can give you a sneak peek,”

Louis’ smile was infectious and Clementine couldn’t help but return it. “I’d love that. Let’s see what you wrote this time, Freckles,” Clementine watched as Louis spun around dramatically, causing his tailcoats to flutter lightly. Louis pushed the tailcoats back and sat down. Taking a deep breath, he began to play the song. It was a soft, joyful song. The notes slowly filled the air, complementing each other as the song progressed. His fingers brushed against the keys and fluttered around.

Clementine listened to the music, closing her eyes to soak in every single note as she rocked back and forth in the chair. Louis’ music had always been special; the emotions that he captured in them were always so strong and clear. The notes danced around the room, filling it with the passion that was poured into the song. The joy of it, the tender love, the feeling of comfort and safety. Clementine felt like she could listen to this song forever. Before she knew it the song had ended.

“There, first time played,” Louis spun around on the piano bench and gave his wife a loving smile. Clementine opened her eyes and looked over at Louis.

“I loved it. Does it have a name?”

“Shelter,” Louis awkwardly scratched the back of his head. “Not the most original name, I know.”

“It's perfect.” Clementine’s words made Louis’ eyes shine with joy. Without thinking twice Louis got up and quietly jogged over to steal another kiss from Clementine. Looking down, he saw that Maisy was fast asleep.

“Works every time,” Louis gently took Clementine’s hand and brushed his thumb on top of it. The two watched their daughter for a moment before Clementine spoke up.

“Could you play the song again?”

Louis’ smile grew and he placed a quick peck on Clementine’s cheek. “Of course, my darling.”

Giving his wife’s hand a soft squeeze Louis moved back over to the piano and began the song once more. Clementine closed her eyes and took in every single note. Her heart filled with peace and abundant joy. To think that she had a home and a family. Clementine couldn’t help but feel extremely lucky. She was home.